#ovenmitts | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

Visit Blog

Explore Tumblr blogs with no restrictions, modern design and the best experience.

Fun Fact

Tumblr is available in 18 languages.

roxyrich · 1 year

Photo

Time to think about upcoming holidays! Bring art to your kitchen and pick up one for someone on your list. #thoughtfulgifts #prettygifts #artgifts #uniquegifts #kitchen #mom #ovenmitts #potholders #hands #shopping #home #dining https://www.instagram.com/p/CkdufLMLL1K/?igshid=NGJjMDIxMWI=

#thoughtfulgifts #prettygifts #artgifts #uniquegifts #kitchen #mom #ovenmitts #potholders #hands #shopping #home #dining

2 notes · View notes

kitchenbestreviews · 8 months

Text

Best Rated Oven Mitts – Super Durable Choices

Our selections of the best rated oven mitts are made of durable materials that are designed to withstand regular use over time.

0 notes

130-ichisanmaru · 2 years

Photo

💭🦖 ミトン🧤L (写真にはないですがRもあり〼) 手首まであって安心💮 オーブンで焼いたお菓子も取り出し放題♪ これまで同じメーカー🇺🇸のミトンを買い替えてきたけど柄アリを見つけられず、作りました!! あわせて小さな三角も作り替え▷▷🦖 #鍋つかみ #ovenmitt #ovenmitts #ichisanmaru #イチサンマルぼちぼち毛糸🧶出そう。 https://www.instagram.com/p/CjZeuVqP-qo/?igshid=NGJjMDIxMWI=

#鍋つかみ #ovenmitt #ovenmitts #ichisanmaru #イチサンマル

0 notes

7catonline · 2 years

Text

MIZZLES Oven Mitts Gloves Kitten, Quilted Cotton Lining- Cat Paw Design Heat Resistant Pot Holder Gloves for Grilling & Baking Gloves BBQ, Microwave (Cat Paw)

Heat-resistant oven gloves protect your hands and wrists from burns. You will not feel the heat of pots through the mitts which makes it perfect for handling trays when baking. The mitt features breathable and comfortable, has meticulous workmanship, is sturdy and durable. 3D cute cartoon design lets you have fun at work. The Kitten oven mitt is a fun and functional conversation starter; hang it in your kitchen or store it next to the oven. Full color, realistic, double-sided art is printed on quilted cotton; makes a great gift for themed kitchens or people that already has everything. Insulation and anti-scalding function for hands protection, insulation, and high-temperature resistance 200°C, filled with insulation cotton inside for good insulation effect. Ideal for light-duty use and very effective for warm dishes; Not intended for use with high heat or open flame Read the full article

#DoubleOvenGloves #OvenMitts

0 notes

littlegrrl7 · 1 year

Photo

Love mythology retellings? Check out this chapter one sneak peek about the original goddess of Sex and War--Inanna

Trapped in the underworld, Kurizan could be Inanna's only chance at freedom–if she's willing to pay his price.

(Intended for mature audiences. If you don’t like M/F sex with a side of sassy this isn’t for you. Preview chapter is clean.)

Queen of Heaven - Promises Kept

Chapter 1

I can’t believe I fell for this. Twice. My head thrums with a dull buzz as I stare through the solid metal bars of my cell. Somewhere down the long, cavernous hall, water drips. The unrelenting sound grates on my last frayed nerve. Rubbing my thumb along the bridge of my nose, I close my eyes. This is no way to treat a goddess of my standing.

Eons ago, I would have had enough divine power to walk myself out of here. Not anymore. The steady decline of mortals worshiping me has drained my abilities. Kicking some loose gravel across the cell, I sigh. I really hate the underworld. How I was stupid enough to be lured here again is beyond me. No, that’s not true. Deep down in my soul, I crave forgiveness—but it’s obvious my sister still clings to her fury.

I flex my wings until the bronze feathers brush either side of my cell. Seeking some warmth against the ever-present damp, I curl them around my naked body. The souls in this realm don’t feel anymore, I suppose. No need for creature comforts in this pit. A sharp pain shoots lightning across my eyes, and I squeeze them shut. I’m pretty sure the guard drugged me when I crossed through the main underworld gate. It’s the only explanation for why I woke up imprisoned and naked with an obnoxious headache.

I crumple the parchment in my fist. I’m surprised it’s still in my possession. A wedding invitation. My sister, Ereshkigal, queen of the underworld, is marrying again. I thought she’d forgiven me for her last husband’s death. It was an accident, and it happened centuries ago.

When my husband died, and Ereshkigal refused to let me cross the veil in the underworld to retrieve his soul, I figured we were even. She said souls beyond the veil were unretrievable, and to bring them back could leave a path open for unspeakably evil, mischievous things to enter the world above. Defeated, I moved on. Sure, I’ve had other partners since then. I am the goddess of sex and war, after all—I have needs. It’s no surprise that she’s finally remarrying, but I’d hoped her invitation was an olive branch.

I throw the wadded-up parchment through the thick metal bars, already feeling the drag of the underworld against my soul. Even a goddess like me can fade if stuck down here long enough. Ereshkigal is doing this to antagonize me—or entrap me. Here I am, stripped of my crown and other divine items of power. I’m trapped in this dank hole, like a weak mortal.

I jerk at the sound of footsteps against the hard stone. Metal clanks softly, and soon a familiar face appears at the door to my prison. It’s Neti, gatekeeper to the underworld. A rictus spreads across his lipless face. Ignoring the damp against my naked skin, I stand, sweeping my wings back in a regal gesture to fold neatly against my back. “You should return my belongings and free me before things go badly for you.” I throw what I hope is a haughty look at the god.

“There’s nothing you can do here, Inanna, Queen of Heaven. The light of the sun doesn’t touch this place, and without your raiment, you have no power.” Neti unlocks the door. “The wedding is about to begin, and your sister requires your presence.”

I bite the inside of my cheek. “Am I to attend naked?”

His lackluster eyes wander over my flesh. I’m not sure what infuriates me more—that he’s looking or that he’s uninterested. Holding back a growl, I glower. Neti was the one who took my amulet, crown, rings, breastplate, and scepter to allow me entrance to this farce. If I don’t get those things back, this could be my end.

Neti’s dark eyes roll in sunken sockets. “I suppose I can find you something. Come.”

I follow him up a twisting staircase to a musty storage room and stare at the back of his bony, hairless skull as he rummages through some boxes. He hands me a burlap sack, moth-eaten and a shade lighter than my dark-brown skin. The rough fabric abrades my nipples and chafes my neck as I pull it on. I tug the neckline, ripping a slit down the back to make room for my wings.

“Where are my clothes and my trunk? What I came with is certainly better than this.”

“I don’t know. She likely destroyed them.” Neti turns and drifts down the hall.

Anger burns hot through my veins. Why did I expect better treatment this time? As much as I long for a sense of family from my kin, my sister and I have never had a good relationship. The fact that I’m not in shackles doesn’t escape me. Neti is right—there isn’t a damn thing I can do in the underworld. A trickle of fear dances down my spine. My adopted brother made the amulet I wore when I entered this realm. It would have allowed me safe passage back to the land of the living. Now I’m unsure how I’m going to return.

A thin, undulating shadow glides along the wall to my right, making me skitter nervously to the side. When I turn, it’s gone. This is nothing like my realm. I already long for the warmth of the life-giving sun. Despair presses against my chilled skin, and I push it away. It would only rob me of my vitality.

“Here we are.” Neti pushes open a tall arched door gilded with archaic symbols.

I can’t help but glance across the grand hall at the wall where Ereshkigal staked my body the last time I visited. She left me to hang there for weeks, like a chunk of meat. That day, centuries ago, flashes back like it was yesterday. I trusted her. After my husband’s death, I was so damn confident that I could humbly come to my sister and request his return through the veil.

Brick-colored splatters still paint the dusky stone and floor below it, a grisly reminder that the queen of the underworld may desire a repeat performance. Phantom aches stab my wrists where the spikes pierced them so long ago. No, this time will be different. She invited me.

“This way.” Neti gestures to a large sphere-shaped cage resting on the dark-gray tile. A chain on a pulley connects the cage to the high ceiling.

My gaze skips over the multitude of curious eyes staring at me in this grand hall. Beings in outlandish clothing whisper behind painted fans. No matter how they try, the underworld still steals the color from them, making everything a faded shade of what was once brilliant. A rumbling murmur rolls against the arched ceilings. Refusing to be brought low by these circumstances, I raise my chin and step forward like the queen I am.

In the corner, eyes the color of the deepest red rose capture my attention. The contrast is so stark—a spark of life in this colorless world—that I stare. He’s easily the tallest man in the room, yet no one else seems to notice him. His skin is as gray as the dark walls but gleams like polished marble. Around his hips is a placket belt of heavy twisted gold studded with rubies. It holds up a long dark kaunakes—a skirted garment that wraps his solid, muscular form. More gold adorns his arms, and tendrils of smoke curl from his broad shoulders.

I frown upon seeing a red amulet gracing his bare chest—my amulet. He nods to me, almost a bow. The only deference anyone has shown me in the underworld.

“Inanna, I find it curious you chose today to visit.” The voice comes from everywhere and nowhere as the crowd parts in a rippling wave, and a black-veiled figure steps forth.

Ereshkigal. Queen of the underworld and my dear sister.

“I received your invitation. You’ll forgive me if I find your hospitality lacking.” I step forward, my wings flexing to arch around me. A spiraling shadow swirls past the corner of my eye, but when I look, there’s nothing but wide-eyed courtiers smirking with glee as this drama unfolds.

Cool eyes as dark as the blackest pools of the abyss gaze at me through the translucent veil. “I sent no invitation.” Her brow knots. “Nonetheless, I have a special seat of honor for you, dear sister.” She gestures toward the large spherical cage resting on the floor. With a start, I realize it’s a birdcage barely big enough for me to fully extend my wings.

“I am not getting into that.”

“You have no power here, little sister.” She twists the familial name into a curse. “You can walk in of your own free will, and no harm will befall you. Or if you prefer, I could always nail you to my wall again. Your rotting carcass made a powerful statement last time.”

I bend close to her. “Why are you like this? Can’t you let our past be past?”

“Why did you come?” she asks, turning me toward the cage. “I hate it when you meddle with affairs in my realm.”

I snort. “You invited me, and regretfully, here I am. Misplaced curiosity is to blame. Why take my divine regalia and throw me in a cell?”

“An abundance of caution. Your schemes killed my husband.”

I roll my eyes. She’ll never let that go. “He was an oaf. I did you a favor. Obviously, you’re over it, since you’re remarrying.”

Her gaze darts to the raised dais, where a man in wedding finery awaits her. My dead husband, Dumuzid. I cover a startled gasp. Dumuzid tilts his head at us curiously. I take in features I know so well, lips I’ve kissed a thousand times. His dark hair sweeps in many tiny braids down his muscular back. How can his soul possibly be here? She said last time that he couldn’t pass back through the veil.

My breath rasps in my lungs as my fury gallops out of control. “You’re marrying my husband?”

“Former husband. There’s a reason the vows are ‘till death do us part.’ You don’t own his soul, dear sister. Dumuzid doesn’t even remember you.”

The knife in my heart twists a little more. Realizing I’m gaping, I slam my jaw closed. This bitch. “I thought you said once he was beyond the veil, he was lost. All the souls down here, and you choose his—then invite me to witness it?”

“Again, I didn’t invite you. Anyway, as I’ve told you before, souls lose their memory past the veil.” She shrugs with a coy smile. “He seemed like such a nice man, and after spending time with him, I offered to make him my consort.”

“Why not find your late husband through the veil?”

She frowns. “I went in looking for him. He wasn’t there.”

I raise an eyebrow but say nothing. The veil is a mystery to me, and the souls beyond it should be out of reach, even for Ereshkigal. In the past, she made it very clear how dangerous it was for even a deity to cross the veil.

My sister maneuvers me into the metal cage as we speak. Having no desire to repeat getting nailed to a wall, I let her. “How did you move beyond the veil and come back?”

Ereshkigal scoffs. “I found a spell to split it open and stepped through.”

Appalled, I stare at her. “Are you sure nothing came back with you?”

“Dumuzid did—lacking his memory, of course.” She closes the door and locks it with an ominous thunk.

My gaze drifts over to my former husband, who now waits for his bride. He watches my sister in adoration, and my heart sinks. It’s like a stranger wears the body of someone I once loved.

“He’s a good man, Ereshkigal. Dumuzid and I had our issues toward the end of his life, but we were still friends. I hope you’re not just doing this to spite me.”

A dart of pain tugs at my chest. The sensation tickles my sternum and twists in my gut. It’s not that I still have feelings for my late husband. I just don’t want my sister to have someone who was mine. Sweet heavens, but that’s some misplaced jealousy. I grind my teeth.

Across the room, the stranger with the rose-colored eyes still watches me. He looks more solid, more alive, than any of the souls in the throne room. Curiosity gets the better of me as I return his stare. He can’t be a god. I know all of them. Maybe he’s the offspring of one—or a demon. His tongue flicks out along his lower lip, and for an instant, his eyes flash gold.

The ball-like cell lifts with a bone-jarring snap. I grip the bars, glaring down at my sister as she flutters her hand at me. “Enjoy the show.”

I spit at Ereshkigal. My aim is terrible, though, and it just makes her laugh. My gaze goes back to Dumuzid, but he’s smiling at his bride. Sucking in my lower lip, I hold back the venom I want to spew. He doesn’t remember us, and honestly, the last time I was here to beg for his soul, my efforts ended up as self-preservation after she tacked me to the wall to rot for my impudence. A friend resurrected my body to get me out of the underworld, and more concerned with myself, I quickly gave up the idea of rescuing Dumuzid.

I tilt my head as I watch them together. He seems well, at least. Maybe Ereshkigal really does love him. At least both of them won’t be alone anymore, and getting laid could improve my sister’s sour disposition. If I had to live in this dank hole for eternity, I’d be miserable too.

By the Seven Great Dragons, this is a mess. How am I going to get out? Rose Eyes has my amulet and my ticket out of the underworld. The living can’t just waltz out of here. It’s a one-way passage unless you have some magic token. I scan the audience below, looking for the mysterious man, but don’t see anyone remotely like him. His height should make him easy to spot.

The crowd settles into rows of seating, and the drone of the priestess reverberates from the arched ceiling columns. All manner of creatures are below me, with scales and tentacles, sharp horns and webbed wings. I sigh as I sit on the hard metal floor of my cell to endure the festivities, hoping she’ll let me go when it’s over.

“I’m happy to see you accepted my invitation, Inanna, Queen of Heaven,” a voice drenched in smoke and darkness rasps into my ear.

Quickly, I turn, but there’s no one in the cage with me. A spiral of dark mist spins around the bars. I squint at it, suspicion building. Below me, Ereshkigal and Dumuzid exchange vows.

I glance down at the couple with a disgruntled glare and grumble, “Dumuzid may no longer be mine, but if she hurts him…”

“You’ll do what? He’s still dead, you know. Only his soul survives. Without a body, Dumuzid can never leave this realm. He’s as stuck here as the rest of us.”

Startled, I look up to see Rose Eyes inside my prison, leaning against the bars. The long, smooth muscles of his abdomen flex as he pushes away from the hard metal and takes two steps closer. I rise, swallowing the apprehension that threatens to spill an undignified squawk from my mouth. Sweet heavens, he’s tall. I’m a statuesque woman, and he stands a head taller than me. I stare at my amulet. Framed by the magnificence of his bare chest, it hangs from a long, unfamiliar chain.

My wings pull tight to my back as a muscle in my jaw ticks. “Who are you?”

He eyes me for a long moment then drops something at my feet. It’s the gown I arrived in. I gnaw my lower lip as I scoop up the pile of dark-blue silk. With as much grace as I can muster, I drape the gown over the burlap sack currently annoying my skin then tug the offending garment off. Carelessly, I drop the burlap through the bars to the wedding party below.

“I’m Kurizan.” Darkness edges his smoky voice. It coils around me in this snug area, and the hum of the crowd below us fades.

I haven’t heard the name before—he’s not a demon down here or a god. “Do you have the rest of my belongings?” I stare pointedly at his chest.

Kurizan caresses the amulet. “I apologize for your treatment. That was never my intent. I don’t have all of your raiments of divinity. But I could retrieve them—for a price.”

“The amulet you wear is mine. It would be a kindness to return it.” I give him a speculative look. Is he aware of its power?

A seductive smile tugs the corner of his sensually shaped lips. “Let’s not get ahead of ourselves. A bargain has yet to be struck.”

A cheer goes up below us. The metal floor creaks as I take a step closer to Kurizan. His eyes aren’t just the color of rose petals—a golden vertical slit graces each iris, making me even more uncertain of what he is.

My gaze drifts admiringly over the breadth of his shoulders and back down his bare chest to where my amulet gleams in the low light. He certainly is a striking specimen. “What are you asking for?”

He twists one of my long dark braids around his finger. In his other hand, four golden rings tip agilely over his knuckles before disappearing into his palm. “I have your rings, Queen of Heaven. Let me touch your wings, and I’ll give them to you.”

Involuntarily, I back up. Gold bands sparkle as the rings flip over his knuckles again, bright against his dark-gray skin. Mesmerized, I watch until they return to his closed palm.

“Only my lovers have ever touched my wings.”

Kurizan’s tongue glides over his lips as he leans so close that his bare chest almost brushes my cheek. My heart speeds up—whether from fear or desire, I’m not certain.

His low chuckle caresses my ear. “Exactly.”

The full story will be part of the Celestial Awakenings Anthology on preorder now for 99 cents!

#inanna #anthology series #mythology retellings #Inanna fucks her way out of the underworld #wear ovenmitts when reading #clitature #spicy anthology #m/f romance #queen of heaven #poc romance

3 notes · View notes

raurusrightarm · 1 year

Note

tell me about how your wol/oc/muse feels about the ocean. Do they like to visit it? Are they scared of it?

For this, I'm going to talk about my OC, Pheodore Ovenmitts, and then since Nobu is our WoL, I'll let him answer for himself ahahah. Phoeodore! He's a toaster. I'll attach art of him later. He's never seen the ocean before outside of pictures on his wall calendar, but he wants to go see it in person one day! He's a little afraid of it and can't go swimming because he's a toaster, but he still wants to visit!

--Mettaton

I love the ocean! Spending nights on the beach is really relaxing for me. My father taught me to fish on a beach (I'm from Monzen in Doma, for anyone curious!) when I was a kid, and I've loved it since. Our in-game apartment is in Shirogane, and the beach there is one of my favorite places to idle.

--Nobukane

#recipe for a sandwich #about nobukane #pheodore ovenmitts #<- incredible set of tags

0 notes

tshirtla · 1 year

Photo

Thanks for the great review tahammell218 ★★★★★! #etsy #polyester #white #black #ovenmitt #teachergift #teacherappreciation #teacherspet #teacherovenmitt #backtoschoolgift #teacherChristmasGift #tutorgift https://etsy.me/3Pu9e5Z https://www.instagram.com/p/CmF4DCOrFkE/?igshid=NGJjMDIxMWI=

#etsy #polyester #white #black #ovenmitt #teachergift #teacherappreciation #teacherspet #teacherovenmitt #backtoschoolgift #teacherchristmasgift #tutorgift

0 notes

pineygir · 2 years

Photo

Need a little Piney #swag like @mikehayze here? Treat yourself to an #AlchemyHand oven mitt! Link in bio & here https://pineygir.bandcamp.com/merch/alchemy-hand-oven-mitten #quirkymerch #ovenmitt #kitchenstuff (at The Kitchen) https://www.instagram.com/p/Cd0a63DjCvo/?igshid=NGJjMDIxMWI=

#swag #alchemyhand #quirkymerch #ovenmitt #kitchenstuff

0 notes

thehollowwriter · 6 months

Note

Images from @simpingseafood

HELP these edits are so funny

So close

So close Kalim

How are you doing better than Jamil???

You just need to pull your hat down lower or find a way to tie your hair back, bb

Careful don't spill that it's hot

9.9/10 I'm impressed

Holy carp he actually tied his hair in a bun

However it's only a half bun and it's not covered

9.9/10 well done Cater hon you tried

SILVER WHAT IS THE POINT OF THE PONYTAIL IF ALL YOUR HAIR IS HANGING IN YOUR FACE

I'M GOING TO FIND HAIRS IN MY SOUP

But well done for using an oven mitt

3/10 there's hair in my mouth now

DEUCE COMB BACK YOUR HAIR AND COVER IT PLEASE IDK WHAT YOU'RE MAKIN IN THERE BUT IT'S FULL OF HAIR NOW

But also yay ovenmitt (why are the oven mitts branded with the dorm insignias HELP)

4/10 not as bad as Silver, keep trying bb

T r e y

@honey-milk-depresso LOOK AT WHAT YOUR BOYFRIEND HAS DONE

HE'S KILLED ME

TREY CLOVER YOUR HAIR FOR THE LOVE OF G O D HAVE YOUR PARENTS TAUGHT YOU NOTHING

9.9/10 but Mr and Mrs Clover are disappointed in you and so am I

MALLEUS THAT TINY HAT IS ACTUALLY USELESS I'M SORRY

Hats are meant to prevent your hair and perspiration from getting into the food and keep your hair out of your face.

There is- the ponytail is doing nothing-

Malleus we need to get you a big hat with holes for your horns

AND YOU ALSO AREN'T SUPPOSED TO BE WEARING NAIL POLISH FJTJFJFIF (unless your nails just look like that)

2/10 please get a new hat. Nevermind Trey, YOU'LL kill me

Ruggieeeeee

Sweetiepie

Say it with me ya'll

HAIR GOES IN A BUN AND UNDER THE HAT

Yes Gordon you tell him 😤

But yes oven mitts good

9.9/10 pls fix your hair

#malleus draconia #trey clover #deuce spade #cater diamond #ruggie bucchi #kalim al asim #silver twst #diasomnia #heartslabyul #savanaclaw #scarabia #twisted wonderland #quinn quips #ask game

96 notes · View notes

strangersmunsons · 5 months

Text

Eddie's making a pie for Thanksgiving. he's trying his best. eddie munson x gn!reader, ~1000 words

“Are you sure you can handle this?”

“Oh, c’mon.”

“Eddie…”

“Yes! You got nothin’ to worry about, sweetheart.”

Even he knows he doesn’t sound very convincing. He scans the array of ingredients laid out on the kitchen table — flour, sugars, assorted fruits, butter, et cetera — and winces.

You make a funny noise, something between a sigh and a chuckle. “I told you I can do it when I get home. Really, I don’t mind.”

Luck would have it that Eddie gets the day before Thanksgiving off instead of you.

You’ve always been responsible for bringing dessert to the big holiday feast; you’re a pretty skilled baker and like to make a few different pies so everyone can have their favorite kind. But working until 5 o’clock in the evening the day before leaves you with a pretty limited window to finish them all, especially since you’ll be dog-tired from the long shift.

Which is why your sweet, woefully-inept boyfriend volunteered to start the process for you.

“I got it,” he tells you firmly. “Let me do at least one for you, okay? The fruit one. You said that one takes the longest, so I’ll get it out of the way.”

He can practically feel your hesitation. But after a long pause, you cede.

“Alright. And remember I bought you pie crust so you won’t have to make one, okay? That’s half the battle, so it shouldn’t be too difficult.”

“You don’t trust me to make pie crust from scratch?”

“Frankly, I don’t. I do love you, though.”

He smiles.

“I love you too.”

The kitchen looks a mess. The recipe emblazoned Triple Berry Pie is stained and wrinkled, and Eddie keeps squinting at one particular line of direction:

“Gently stir mixture until thickened, 2-5 minutes.”

It’s bordering on twenty minutes at this point and Eddie is still stirring a very watery, fruity soup on the stove.

“Two to five minutes my ass,” he mutters, growing more annoyed by the second.

What is he doing wrong? He did what the recipe said to do. And he can’t lie, it smells pretty damn good, if he does say so himself. Warm sugar and a spritz of lemon juice coat the simmering berries and the scent has his mouth watering as he makes the would-be pie filling.

Would-be, if the cornstarch would do its damn job.

He stirs faster, face scrunching in frustration as he whips the mixture around.

A splash of liquid sloshes over the side, instantly sizzling as it makes contact with the hot burner.

“Shit!”

He lets out a loud groan, and throws his head back dramatically.

He glances at the phone hanging on the wall, wondering how bad of a boyfriend he’d be if he called you at work for help.

It’s tempting.

“It’s fine,” he says aloud to no one in particular, and grabs the box of cornstarch, shaking more of the powder into the saucepan without bothering to measure anything. He adjusts the heat and continues to stir for a few more minutes, all the while trying to resist the urge to lob the whole thing across the room.

When it finally starts to thicken to a more jam-like consistency, Eddie almost cries in relief.

He immediately pours the filling into the ready-made Pillsbury shell — the “Allow filling to cool for 15 minutes” direction going completely over his head — and dumps a fistful of crumble topping over it.

He feels like the proudest man on Earth when he finally snaps the oven door shut.

He feels less proud when he takes it out some forty-odd minutes later, and sees the final product.

“Nooooo,” he whines, ovenmitt hands flying up in distress.

He’s not too sure what happened, exactly, but it doesn’t look good — filling has leaked out all over the sides of the pie tin, blobs of congealed fruit completely obscuring the once-neatly crimped edges of the crust. He cringes when he sees that it’s dripped all the way to the bottom of the oven, leaving blackened puddles that are definitely gonna be a bitch to clean. And the ‘crumble’ on top? A pile of dust. Ashy. Unappetizing.

He heaves a shuddery sigh, brow furrowed in anguish.

You’re gonna be so disappointed.

He thinks of Thanksgivings past where, if anything you made had even the tiniest flaw, you moaned in dismay, wanting your family and friends to have the very best you could give them. How gutted would you be when you came home and saw this abomination?

He doesn’t have to wait long to find out, apparently — he can hear the front door opening as his mind clouds with panic.

“Eddie?”

You pad into the kitchen, greeted by the sweet aroma of baked goods and the sight of your flustered boyfriend clutching an over-full pie between two flowery ovenmitts. He looks so distraught that you immediately become concerned, and close the distance separating you.

“What’s wrong?” You stand behind him and wrap your arms around his waist.

“I fucked it up,” he replies quietly. “I’m sorry.”

“Oh, honey, it looks fine.”

Maybe it's not the exact product you would have come out with, but it's not nearly as bad as he seems to think it is. You know he gave it his best shot, and you love him for it.

You give him a squeeze. “There’s just too much filling, that’s all. When that happens and the oven’s really hot, then it can bubble over. It’ll still be delicious.”

“It looks like someone got cremated on top,” he complains.

He’s not totally wrong. Even you’re not sure how he managed that.

“It’s fine,” you reassure him. “We’ll just…spread it around or, um, scoop some off. Sprinkle some sugar on it. Then it’ll be perfect.”

He sulks. “I’m sorry,” he repeats.

There’s a pang in your heart. “Eddie. I know you’ve never baked in your life, so for you to do this for me was a huge help.” You press a kiss to the middle of his back. “I love you. It’s great.”

He softens a little. You teasingly pull on one of his curly tendrils. “Will you at least keep me company in the kitchen while I make the others? Or are you too traumatized to be in there?”

“No, of course I will. And I’ll help you.” He considers. “Although, I think you should probably take the lead,” he says sheepishly.

“Sounds like a plan.”

happy thanksgiving to anyone who celebrates! and if u don't have a wonderful regular thursday anyway <3 i do make this pie every year, with this crumble, if anyone is interested :^)

#wrote this for myself because i make four diff pies for thanksgiving each year and would give anything to have an eddie help me out lol #also i just finished this up while drinking margs and i'm mildly buzzed. so if there's any misakes. oopsies!#eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson blurb #eddie munson imagine #eddie munson oneshot #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson x gn!reader #eddie munson x fem!reader

64 notes · View notes

hootjiggle · 3 months

Text

Ok so decided to dip into Bleach: the Flame Bringer.

Probably won't talk about this one much, as it's all in Japanese. So I can not understand ANYTHING that's going on. Soooo I'll just have fun and make up my own.

Rukia arrives at a spooky deserted mansion.

And feels compelled to grab the EXTREMELY OBVIOUSLY CURSED SWORD...you know as you do.

And has herself a little screm. The sword was a little too toasty to be handled without ovenmitts.

I'm sure Rukia has learnt her lesson and won't be back in some kind of Fade to Black situation.

#bleach #bleach games #bleach the flame bringer #rukia kuchiki

11 notes · View notes

bastionbibi · 5 months

Text

THE OVENMITT FAMILY UPDATE CUTE AS FUCK YAALLLL!!!!!

8 notes · View notes

inkblot-inc · 1 year

Note

Skitch getting themselves a couple pairs of new welding gloves(you go through them pretty fast, it’s always good to have a few extra pairs around. Not to mention if they get wet at all they become useless till they completely dry -_-). Anyway Wanda is in full baking mode. Just in the zone you know. But the timer goes off and she can’t for the life of her locate her ovenmitt (it’s in the livingroom, she forgot it there when she went to grab her phone), but what does she see? A brown bag with some brand new welding gloves that will definitely protect her hands from the hot pans. Anyway; that’s how Skitch walks into the kitchen to see Wanda using welding gloves as ovenmitts. Wanda claims this pair cause she likes that they have fingers and she can actually grip the pan better, unlike ovenmitts where you just kind of hope you have it. (Based on a true story of how I lost a pair of welding gloves to kitchen use and had to get a smaller pair next time because “the fingers are too long”) XD

Wanda would.

I can't even defend this, she simply would.

the way Skitch is unfazed by this shit by now. Skitch's clothes have been stolen for however long, it was only a matter of time- 💀