cookie scones

Crazy

Bucky Barnes X Reader

A/N: The song is Patsy Cline’s ‘Crazy’. I sang this at a karaoke bar, recently, and it’s been stuck in my head… so I figured this would be the song I would use for this fic… Hope you like it! ALSO I do the same thing as her… I totally stress bake LOL

Y/N = Your name. Y/M/N = Your middle name.

Not really a song-fic, just includes the song for the plot… unless that still counts… I DON’T KNOW!!

Warnings: She swears, a lot…? Fighting, blood, etc.

Word count: 3,340ish… oops.

Originally posted by nothingbutcuddles

Finally, some peace and quiet, I thought to myself, sitting in the empty Cryo lab that held the frozen Winter Soldier.

Things had been hectic in the last couple years. My sister, Sharon, had recruited me to sit in Wakanda with her “we don’t talk about what we are, but we are” boyfriend, Captain-fucking-America, and I was less than pleased. Before all of this, I was a 23 year old who was just starting training to become a SHIELD agent. Then, things went to shit. S.H.I.E.L.D disbanded, and I was forced to lay low, because I was another Carter associated with them. My sister had joined the CIA as a cover, and I was stuck trying to figure out what else I wanted to do with my life.

I had just started classes at a community college when the Sokovian Accords caused a Civil War. Sharon had made me go into hiding, because she was worried that I was going to get hurt. As if I didn’t know how to defend myself. Then she had to go and get herself fucking involved. She had decided it would be a great idea to help Steve, who was a fucking fugitive at the time. When that shit was over, she sent me to Wakanda to be protected with King T’Challa.

So, here I was, two years later. Sitting in the lab, again, doing online college work under an alias, with my headphones in, trying not to let the frozen soldier freak me out.

Crazy, I’m crazy for feeling so lonely. I’m crazy, crazy for feeling so blue. I knew you’d love me as long as you wanted, and then someday you’d leave me for somebody new.”

Singing along with the beautiful voice of Patsy Cline for the hundredth time, I tapped my pen, trying to mentally prepare myself for my upcoming paper due.

Worry, why do I let myself worry? Wondering what in the world did I do? Crazy for thinking that my love could hold you. I’m crazy for trying and crazy for crying, and I’m crazy for loving you. Crazy for thinking that my love could hold you. I’m crazy for trying and crazy for crying, and I’m crazy for loving you.

I stared at the wall of windows, deciding that procrastination was my best bet, since I couldn’t focus. I hit repeat on my phone, singing the song again. Halfway through, I felt someone tap my shoulder and jumped, ripping my headphones out, “Jesus Christ!”

It was Steve. “What are you doing in here?”

I rolled my eyes, “It’s the only place that is quiet enough for me to do homework. Everywhere else, I feel like I am under constant surveillance.”

He smirked, “It looks more like you are singing and daydreaming, rather than doing homework.”

“What, you don’t like my singing?” I gasped, hand on my chest, feigning hurt, “And I wanted to try out for one of those TV shows. You crushed my dream, Cap. Crushed it.”

This time he rolled his eyes and crossed his arms over his broad chest, “You know I like your singing. I just think you should do your homework. Education is important.” He stopped his lecture, grinning, “Somewhere else, though, because guess what?”

I raised an eyebrow, “What? Is Sharon coming? That’s usually the only reason you get that pearly white smile.” I wouldn’t mind seeing my sister

“Nope.” He crossed his arms, proudly, “Today is the day that Bucky gets out of Cryo.”

_____

Bucky had a difficult time coming out of Cryo. He came out abruptly in Winter Solder mode, and ended up tossing Steve through the wall of windows. I was walking in the hallway when he busted out of the lab, in attack mode. I had immediately defended myself - since he decided walking with just a coffee in my hand was threatening - but his strength was too much for my mediocre training. That was, until I yelled, “Bucky, goddammit, snap out of it.” He hesitated. I had my legs wrapped around his upper arm, with his hand around my throat, but he stopped squeezing, a look of confusion on his face. In his moment of hesitation, they shot him with a tranquilizer, and he collapsed on top of me. Thank god I was flexible, because that was uncomfortable.

That was three months ago. I never told Steve that he hesitated. Bucky didn’t remember attacking me, nor did he even know who I was. Didn’t matter. I had very little contact with him, anyways, because Sharon ripped Steve a new one about Bucky trying to choke me out. I had to remind her that I had been in training with S.H.I.E.L.D before it collapsed, I was a fucking adult, and a Carter who could take care of her goddamned self.

Bucky’s room was down the hall from mine, but I barely saw him. I barely saw Steve, anymore, either. We used to eat dinner together, unless he was on a mission – but he was nowhere to be found, anymore. I had sort of relied on those dinners for human interaction, because I really didn’t know anyone in this compound. He had stood me up on at least six pre-planned dinner dates, and I was starting to get really lonely. I wasn’t allowed to leave, I wasn’t allowed to communicate with any of my old friends or go on social media, and I wasn’t allowed to call anybody. Sharon was too worried that I would be traced to Wakanda and they would find Steve. The only interactions I had were on some discussions for my online classes, and that was school topics.

One of the things that I always did when I felt lonely was bake stuff. Baking calmed me down. I spent an entire day in the kitchen. I made muffins, pies, cakes, cookies, scones, and even tried making Divinity. I was bored out of my fucking mind. It was about 9 O’clock at night before a single person walked into the kitchen, and it was Bucky Barnes.

I didn’t notice him at first, because I was bent behind the counter, looking in the window of the oven, checking on some cookies. Until I heard someone humming a familiar tune. I turned around and saw him sitting at the kitchen table with a book in his hand, munching on one of the muffins that had been on the counter. “Oh, hey, Bucky!” I said cheerfully.

He jumped, knees hitting the table, whipping his head over to where I was standing. I laughed, “Did I scare you?”

He nodded, “I didn’t think anyone was in here.” He took another bite of the muffin, “You made all these?”

I glanced at the counter, “Yeah, I went a little overboard. I had nothing better to do, today, and decided to make some sweets.”

He smirked, raising an eyebrow, “Some?”

I shrugged, turning around to take the cookies out of the oven and add the next batch. “It was either this, or continue working on my paper.” I moved the cookies to the cooling rack, “I’m procrastinating.”

He grabbed another muffin from the over-flowing counter, “Education is important.” Sitting back down, he grabbed his book, again, “From what I gather, education has gotten better over the years. You should utilize that.”

“Jesus, you sound like Steve. He gives me that lecture all the time.” I rolled my eyes, “If it isn’t education, it’s my health. He lectures me about making and eating all of these sweets, then secretly eats half of them.”

“I do not.” Speak of the Devil. “You’re the one who eats all of the sweets you make. You’re lucky you have the metabolism of a humming bird.” Steve grabs a cookie and sits across from Bucky, giving him a small smile before taking a bit of the cookie.

“Oh, my God. He is alive.” I say, crossing my arms over my flour covered tee shirt, “Captain A-fucking-merica finally has time to grace me with his presence.” I raised an eyebrow in annoyance, “Six cancelled dinner dates makes a girl very unhappy, you know. Thankfully, I’m not your girlfriend or this would have been one violent conversation. You’re lucky I don’t call your girlfriend and tell her that you have been neglecting her poor little sister to the point of stress-baking.”

“That might be my fault.” Bucky cut-in, soft blue eyes filled with guilt, “I’m sorry.”

I smiled sweetly at him, “Oh, Honey, don’t apologize. You aren’t the one who cancelled six dinner dates.” I glared at Steve, “Well? Anything to add?”

The giant shit-head was smirking at me, “If I didn’t know any better, I’d say you missed me.”

I narrowed my eyes, “I don’t miss you.” Yes, I do. “I just hate being stood up. Makes a girl feel unwanted.”

He frowned, standing up and walking over to me, “I’m sorry I neglected you, and made you feel unwanted.” He wrapped me in his giant arms, but I refused to hug him back. He looked down at me, “You really aren’t going to hug me back? Do I need to grovel?”

“Yes.” I pouted, even though I had already forgiven him.

“Fine.” He sighed, hugging me again, but picking me up this time, “Y/N Y/M/N Carter, I am so sorry for being a terrible best friend, and standing you up for our amazing dinner dates. Can you ever find it in your loving heart to forgive me? Please?”

I squealed, “If you put me down, consider yourself forgiven!” Jesus Christ he was suffocating me!

He laughed, putting me down and sitting back at the table. Bucky was chuckling, eyes back on his book. The kitchen was quiet, again, as Steve read a newspaper and Bucky read his book.

I finished baking after about an hour and started packing everything into Tupperware, when I heard Bucky humming that song, again. It sounded familiar. I couldn’t place it, though. “Hey, Bucky, what are you humming?”

He looked up, embarrassed that he had been caught humming, “Uh… I don’t actually know. It’s just stuck in my head.” His eyes went back to his book. “Sorry. I won’t hum anymore,” He said, quietly.

I walked over to him, handing him a cookie that wouldn’t fit in the Tupperware, “I don’t mind your humming. It’s relaxing.” Walking back over to put the last piece of Tupperware in the pantry, “I’m going to go to bed. Night, boys.”

“Night, Y/N.” Steve said, eyes still on his paper.

“Night.” Bucky said, still quiet.

           ________

               I woke up to a man screaming. It was an agonized scream, and made my heart pound. Jumping out of bed in a panic, I ran down the hallway and followed the screams to Bucky’s room. The screaming had abruptly stopped when I reached the door, and I threw it open, flipping the light on. Bucky was crouched next to his bed, breathing heavy.

               “Bucky?” I called softly from the doorway, “Are you okay?”

               His head snapped up, and I realized that I was not looking at Bucky. I was looking at The Winter Soldier. His eyes were the same hard blue that I had seen the first time he was out of Cryo, not the soft blue ones that I had seen earlier that evening. His eyes flicked around the room, calculating, before they landed back on me, “Who the hell is Bucky?”

               My heart rate picked up, and I tried to appear as non-threatening as possible. I probably shouldn’t call him Bucky, again. He might attack me. “It’s Y/N. I live down the hallway. I was worried when I heard yelling, that’s all.” I tried to keep my breathing even, looking as small as possible, but ready to defend myself if he attacked.

               His eyes narrowed, but they appeared a little confused. He stomped over to me quickly, pulling me into the room and slamming the door shut. “Why do I know you? Who are you really?” He shoved me roughly against the wall – cold, metal hand pinning me by the neck – his eyes scanned me for weapons.

               I kept my hands at my sides, trying not to move as I felt the panic shoot through my veins. Where the fuck is Steve? “I live here. I am just a neighbor who heard you yelling and came to check on you, nothing more.” Don’t look at him. Don’t look threatening. “Are you okay?”

               “Why do you keep asking me that?” He growled, hand tightening a little. I panicked a little bit and brought my hands up to his wrist, but didn’t squeeze. “Why do I know your voice?”

               My voice? I looked up at his eyes, confused, “What?”

               He threw me onto the floor, my head hitting the bed frame. I yelped, crumpling into a heap as black spots danced across my vision. I felt something trickle down my face. Shit. I was bleeding from a gash on my head, hot pulses coming from that spot down my head. “Bucky, please!”

               “Who the hell is Bucky?” He yelled, pinning me to the floor. Both of his hands were around my neck, squeezing hard enough that I couldn’t catch my breath. I grabbed his wrists with my hands, pulling my legs up to knee him between the legs as hard as I could. His grip loosened, and I wriggled and thrashed my way out from under him, choking on my breath as I scooted myself back. I tried to yell for Steve, but he was advancing on me, again. Using the momentum from his tackle to roll us so I was on top, I tried punching him in the face. His flesh hand came up and blocked the hit, and I used the distraction to bring the heel of my other hand to his nose. He swore, grabbing my ankle as I tried to crawl away, but I cried, “Bucky, goddammit, snap out of it!”

He froze, eyebrows pulling together, and I used that opportunity to kick him in the face, stunning him. I backed up to the other wall as he sat there - with a bloody nose - looking at his hands, confused. I took that opportunity to bring my hand to my pounding head, hand coming away sticky. My breath was coming out in pants, but I was able to talk to him calmly, “Your name is James Buchannan Barnes. Your friends call you ‘Bucky’. My name is Y/N Carter, and I live down the hall from you. I do not intend to harm you, okay? Please stop attacking me!” It came out as more of a croak, but it was calm enough.

He looked up, hair in his face and eyes shining, “Y/n? What happened? Did I… I hurt you?” Tears fell from his eyes, and he backed up to the bed, hand slipping in a few droplets of my blood from my head. “I’m so sorry.” He brought his knees to his chest, wrapping his arms around them and rocking back and forth. He kept whispering “I’m sorry” over and over again, as the tears dripped down his face.

I crawled over to him slowly, trying not to scare him. I pulled myself up to my knees next to him, placing my hand on his knee, gently. “It’s not your fault, Bucky.” Leaning towards him, I wiped the tears from his face, “It’s not your fault.” I brushed his dark hair out of his face, saying it again. He grabbed my hand, gently pulling me towards him and wrapping his arms around my waist. I shifted so I was straddling his thighs, and his head was buried in the groove between my shoulder and neck. His tears were sliding down the skin on my chest and I realized how little I really was wearing, with my boy-short underwear and tank top. I paid no mind, though, as he kept his arms tightly wrapped around my middle and continued to cry into my shoulder. I brushed one hand through his hair, the other along his back, and did what my sister used to do for me when I was upset: sing.

Crazy, I’m crazy for feeling so lonely. I’m crazy, crazy for feeling so blue. I knew you’d love me as long as you wanted, and then someday you’d leave me for somebody new.” Patsy Cline’s Crazy was the first song to pop into my head. He visibly relaxed as I continued to sing quietly, still running my fingers through his hair and along his back. His arms were still tight, but he was no longer crying. He just needed some gentle human contact. When the song was finished, I pulled back, cupping his face in my hands, “Are you okay?”

His red rimmed eyes didn’t meet mine, but he nodded. We sat like that for a moment before he looked up at my head, “We should clean that up.”

“There is a first aid kit under all of the sinks,” I said, pulling myself up and holding out my hand, “Come on. Let’s get cleaned up.” I pulled him into his bathroom and dug under the sink for the first aid kit, motioning for him to sit on the edge of the bathtub. “Let me check out your nose, then you can clean my face.”

When we were both cleaned up, I gave him a moment alone in his bathroom, cleaned the blood off the floor, and fixed his bed. Then, I ran to my room to grab my phone and put on some pajama pants. He was just walking out of the bathroom as I walked into his room, again. I smiled at him, “I’m not leaving you alone, so get comfy.”

He shook his head, “I don’t want to have another nightmare and hurt you, again.”

I held up my phone, “If it makes you feel better, Steve is on speed dial. I will call him if it happens, again.”

He nodded, too tired to fight me on it. He got into his bed, and I shut the light off. The glow from the window lit up the room enough for me to navigate to his bed, setting my phone on the night stand and slipping under the covers. I shifted so I was facing him, “If you want to talk about it, you can. Otherwise, goodnight, Bucky.” As I closed my eyes, I felt him shift closer to me, reaching out and pulling us together. My back against his front.

               He was silent for a moment, arms around my middle again, and head resting between my shoulder blades. Then, he murmured, “That song you were singing… that’s the one I was humming. It’s been stuck in my head since I woke up.”

               I frowned, “When you were in Cryo, I used to do my homework in the lab, but I would usually sing and procrastinate, instead.” I ran my fingers gently along his arm, “I sang that song over and over again for months. I wonder if you heard me.”

He shrugged, “It calms me down. I hum it when I start to feel too stressed or anxious.”

I clasped my hand in his, lacing our fingers together, “Well, if you want me to sing it to you, all you have to do is ask. Anytime, anywhere.”

“Will you sing it, now?” He asked, voice strained with exhaustion.

Crazy, I’m crazy for feeling so lonely. I’m crazy, crazy for feeling so blue. I knew you’d love me as long as you wanted, and then someday you’d leave me for somebody new. Worry, why do I let myself worry? Wondering what in the world did I do? Crazy for thinking that my love could hold you. I’m crazy for trying and crazy for crying, and I’m crazy for loving you. Crazy for thinking that my love could hold you. I’m crazy for trying and crazy for crying, and I’m crazy for loving you.”

The end.

9

I hosted an impromptu Pride and Prejudice tea party! Kind of went on a baking craze here with what was supposed to be just a simple movie night, but I made a bunch of things I’ve never done before so it was really fun! The raspberry jam was from a jar, but other than that I made everything by hand! Super happy with how everything turned out!

Sugar on Top - Chapter 1

Summary: When baking prodigy Phil Lester finally manages to enter the prestigious culinary school of his dreams, he doesn’t account for the fact that one very famous, very rich, and very pretty heir named Dan Howell will become his culinary rival.

Genre: Baking, AU, School, Rivalry, Enemies-to-Something-Else

Warnings: swearing? (it’s Dan), rich people being rich

A/N: Hey guys! I am so excited for you to read the beginning of this story! I love the idea of this AU so much. I don’t know how often updates will be yet, but I hope you enjoy it and let me know what you think! Based on this post.

Read Chapter Two >>


Keep reading

fake ah crew ryan finally starting to take murder breaks seriously, but realizing somewhere around the second or third week that the thing about murder is that it’s a really, really great stress reliever

and so suddenly he’s got a lot of stress that he has no outlet for, and he’s on the verge of punching people, like, all the time and gavin practically breaks the sound barrier trying to get away from him every time he walks into a room

and then one day geoff’s alone in his penthouse and there’s this loud, insistent knocking, and he pulls the door open and ryan blows past him without even saying hello, and geoff is like, “um.”

and ryan growls go away and shuts himself into the kitchen (”you know this is my house, right?” geoff says, bewildered and a little insulted.)

and then he hears horrifying crashing noises coming from the kitchen and he’s like, nope, i’m out, i’m gone, i don’t know what he’s doing in there but i’m not sticking around to find out

and four hours later he comes back and cautiously heads for the kitchen—and there’s ryan, absolutely surrounded by baked goods, like literally every surface is covered with brownies and cookies and cakes and scones and there’s flour and eggshells everywhere and ryan’s sort of staring at the delicious carnage like he’s not entirely sure how it happened

“so,” geoff says, unable to decide whether to be amused or deeply, deeply unsettled, “you’re a…stress baker.”

and of course ryan’s like no absolutely not this was clearly the work of baking gremlins— well okay maybe i had something to do with it— well okay maybe i have a problem, shut up, stop laughing, tell no one, tell no one

Scones and Cookies

Summary: Phil, a resident in a manor, keeps requesting for scones to be brought up to his room, which Dan brings. (This is set in the mortal instruments universe [and the infernal devices time] and Dan’s a servant and Phil’s a shadowhunter.)

TW: none

Word Count: 1.8k

Genre: Fluff

(actually this whole oneshot if based off a scene with sophie and gideon but dw you don’t have to have read the books to read this oneshot)

Keep reading

Kiss The Chef
  • Remus likes to bake during the holidays
  • Cakes, scones, muffins, cookies, pie, tarts - you name it, he’s made it.
  • He bakes so much that it isn’t uncommon for him to come bursting through the common room doors with a tray full of delicious treats and a trail of house elves parading in behind him carrying more with broad smiles on their faces, attempting to bow and balance at the same time.
  • It’s this sight that Sirius adores
  • Not the house elves with their large eyes and flappy ears
  • No, what’s far more adorable to him is Remus.
  • Remus with his flushed cheeks, and messy hair that’s powdered white in a section with flour and a smear of chocolate frosting on his chin.
  • Remus who’s still wearing his ‘kiss the chef’ apron and slippers.
  • Of course, the common room loves the treats - one girl even claimed she stayed at school over the holidays just to have Remus’ peanut butter sugar cookies
  • Well… the treats are nice and all… but Sirius really just loves Remus.
  • He watches with a soft smile on his face as some Gryffindors practically fling their things off the table to make room for the trays and greedily snatch up their favorites.
  • He watches how Remus stands straighter, pride written all over his face
  • How he glances over to the corner and then plucks up a strawberry jam cookie and brings it over to the timid first year who looked too afraid to approach the hectic table.
  • As Remus turns away from the small girl, his and Sirius’ eyes meet.
  • And they just look at each other for a moment, before Remus is moving forward and Sirius is pushing off from his place against the wall and meeting him half way, in the middle of the room.
  • “Hi.” Remus breaths, breathless and grinning, “Want a cookie? I made the disgusting shortbread ones you love so much.”
  • And usually, Sirius would have defended his beloved shortbread.
  • But he was more interested in something else right now.
  • Because Remus’ lips were pink and inviting and he couldn’t help it when he just leaned forward and pressed his own lips against them.
  • He felt Remus’ hands curl around his hips and an appreciative hum escape from his throat.
  • He was grinning again the moment they parted, “What did I do to deserve that?”
  • And Sirius just smirked, lips pressing against the smear of frosting on Remus’ jaw, and tugging a little on Remus’ apron, 
  • “Just doing what I’m told.”

CHRISTMAS IS SO SOON I HAD TO. I just love Remus in his apron.

 (Also in celebration of almost being done studying for the next week !!!!)

flower crowns and pastel boots- chapter eleven

pastel punk au

tw: homophobia, fighting, lots of swearing

thank you @carryonbazpitch for giving me the idea for this chapter <3

chapter one, chapter two, chapter three, chapter four, chapter five, chapter six, chapter seven, chapter eight, chapter nine, chapter ten, chapter eleven, chapter twelve, chapter thirteen, chapter fourteen, chapter fifteen, chapter sixteen, chapter seventeen, chapter eighteen, chapter nineteenepilogue


simon’s been friends with baz for over a month before his old group decide to speak up.

they’re lounging in an empty room for lunch, and everyone’s been on edge all day. there’s nervous energy practically crackling in the air.

“snow,” says gareth, finally, “why’re you talking to the pitch-bitch?”

the rest of the group stiffens immediately, muttered conversations ceasing. 

“what?”

it’s like a dam has broken loose- gareth takes a deep breath, then explodes. “why are you talking to him? and why the fuck have you dyed your hair?”

“is that any of your business?”

“yes, it is.” his voice is sharp and frustrated, and simon sneers.

“is it? really? because it’s-”

“are you two together?” gareth’s voice is dripping with disgust, and when simon’s eyes widen he jeers. “you are! you dyed your hair for him-”

“shut the fuck up,” says simon, voice practically a growl. “we’re not-”

“then why are you going over to his house? why are you dying your hair? why are you acting like you’re best friends? fucking hell, simon, he’s a fairy- he’s a whore, you said it yourself.”

simon’s cheeks match his hair, and he’s practically shaking with rage. “don’t you-”

“don’t i what? you’ve called him this yourself, and worse! and now- fuck, simon, you- if i didn’t know better, i’d say you liked him. i’d say you had a crush on the pitch-bitch.”

simon stands up abruptly, knocking his chair over. “don’t be fucking stupid- of course i don’t, i would never-”

gareth jerks up too, and they stand nose to nose. “you’re fucking pathetic, snow, you-”

simon snaps, swings a fist into his gut and gets a square blow on his cheekbone in return. it feels strangely good- he’s been tiptoeing around his problems for over a month now. he can vent now.

and then he’s being yanked off gareth, and they’re both glaring at each other and yanking at the restraining hands on their shoulder.

(he fucking doesn’t.)

jesus, snow, what’s happened to you?”

baz’s voice, coming from across the table, is familiar; tired, and posh, and not quite low enough to be called deep. it’s more concerned than anything else right now, but simon feels some of the tension melt out of his shoulders.

he’s fucked.

“i’m fine,” he mutters, and baz frowns.

“you’re not fine, simon, your face is bruised.”

the indignance in his voice makes simon snort, against his will. baz rolls his eyes.

“what happened?” he asks again, worrying his bottom lip between his teeth. simon smiles tightly.

“oh, you know, just talking with some friends.”

baz looks up sharply. “they did this to you? why?”

“someone’s got to protect your honor,” says simon teasingly. baz groans.

“simon snow, if you’re not joking-” he sees simon’s face go serious, and glares. “you are! simon, i don’t need you to play the fucking hero or whatever you’re doing-”

“jesus fuck,” moans simon, “not you too. i came over here because i thought you would be nicer to me.”

“i came to you,” baz points out huffily.

“you scooted a seat down!”

“still counts.” he reaches out, tentatively, and touches the bruise on simon’s cheekbone; he hisses quietly, and baz snatches his hand back. “simon…”

“i can take care of myself.”

baz rolls his eyes again. “i know you can, but do you really have to take care of me too?”

“yes,” says simon seriously, and baz’s cheeks turn a light pink.

“my point,” he mutters, “was no, you don’t.”

simon grins. “c'mon, baz, i’m fine.” at least he’s not still upset with him about the whole drinking incident.

“you’re not,” says baz, but it’s more defeated than anything. “actually, wait, which part of my honor were you defending?”

simon’s face turns stormy and his jaw clenches. “doesn’t matter.”

baz pouts, but simon knows he’s got that immobile look on his face. he can’t be argued with.

“why do we never go to your house?” complains baz, sitting upside down on his bed. (he likes to sit like that, simon’s found. it’s a little weird, but mostly endearing.)

“because my house is awful.”

“why?” baz is genuinely curious, so simon does his best not to brush him off.

“i just… i don’t like it.” he frowns. “it’s almost always empty, like. besides me. and sometimes dad, but i never know he’s there until he’s just leaving, you know? your house is much better.”

“is it?” baz’s nose wrinkles.

“well, yeah,” says simon. “you’ve got all your sisters running about-”

“one’s only crawling,” interjects baz, and simon flaps his hands at him.

“and your mum’s the nicest lady in the world- her cookies are the best, and-”

“simon,” says baz, lips turning down at the corners, “do you have a crush on my mother?”

“what? no! of course not. i’m just saying- the cookies, and the scones-”

“yes, that’s enough about mother,” says baz, voice thick with repressed laughter. “i suppose i see your point. i was only curious, after all.”

“mmh,” hums simon. “plus your room always smells nice. like oranges.”

“that’s- kind of a weird thing to say, snow.”

simon shrugs. it’s true, anyways.

it smells like him.

anonymous asked:

Why don't people ever write stories about Bitty's bad baking days? When he's bought everything he needs and cleared his schedule for a whole day, and he's going to try the new recipes that he's been gathering. Fun! But then the bread dough just doesn't rise. And the cookies burn. And the scones are half raw inside. And then he's like "Hey, I'll make a pie. At /least/ I can do that," but the dough is melting because the room's too warm from all the baking. His scream can be heard down the block.



1. im so sorry that i left this buried in my inbox/drafts forever. for some reason it just fought me every step of the way.

2. heck yeah i stole an idea from the replacements.

3. ‘liza’ is short for elizabeth (which is long for ‘betsy’). bitty is very particular about his oven names.

4. i hope you enjoy this ;n; im so sorry it took me forever


Bitty doesn’t know what’s wrong with him. He’s no stranger to baking accidents–but it’s usually a lid not being all the way on when he goes to add a dash to the bowl, or maybe being in such a rush that he leaves a pan far too close to the edge of the counter and bumps it with his hip later on.

But he can’t explain what’s happening to him now. It’s like he’s been cursed and everything he touches is doomed to an inedible fate. He can’t blame it on trying out a new recipe (though even that would be a reach, Bitty hasn’t been bested by a new recipe since he was thirteen), because everything he’s tried to bake so far today has been tested, tried-and-true for months if not years.

First, the bread that Jack requested for his games next week doesn’t rise.

Then, the cookies Bitty promised Alicia burn. Burn. Bitty can’t remember the last time he has honest-to-god burned something. He has to sit down and focus on breathing for five minutes before he can gather up the courage to apologize to Liza for putting her through that.

Finally, Bitty tries to make scones for breakfast the next day. At first, they look perfect. The ideal shade of golden brown and the smell in the kitchen is heavenly.

Then he bites into one.

He spits out the half-raw dough and lets out a noise of pure frustration before throwing the entire plate of scones into the sink, ready to tear his own hair out.

Fine, he thinks. Fine. He’ll just make a pie. Pies are easy. Pies are simple. Pies won’t betray him in his time of need.

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anonymous asked:

can you share some cake and sweet related au's? bakery ones would be cool too! thanks!

  • Character A works at a bakery, and Character B is a very loyal customer who always has their dog wait outside while Character B goes through the shop. In order to impress Character B, Character A uses their free time off to experiment with baking dog treats…but Character B misinterprets the gift and eats them in front of Character A.
  • “I only joined the Confectionery Club because I thought it would look cute on a college resume, but you guys are really dedicated to what you do and I’ve been given the spot of ‘Main Taste Tester’ so I think I’ll stick around.” AU
  • Sleepover AU where Character A is a major baker, and they try to teach their friends how to make brownies/cake/cookies/etc. from scratch. Shenanigans ensue. 
  • Character A is an aspiring baker that’s been making and selling specialty birthday cakes out of their apartment, since they can’t find a bakery that will hire them. Character B is a instagram/tumblr/youtube/etc. star, and after seeing one of Character A’s cakes, immediately hires them to make Character B’s birthday cake.
  • Whenever Character B is sad, they tend to drown their sorrows in baked goods. Character A is Charter B’s best friend, and after hearing that Character B was dumped by their significant other, Character A goes over to Character B’s apartment for a long night of crying, movies, and freshly baked sweets.
  • “I ducked into this tiny bakery to get out of the rain, but oh my goodness, it smells so good here that I might just have to stop for a bit and try just one cookie…” AU
  • Character A works at a coffee shop, and they also take care of baking the cookies/brownies/scones/etc. fresh every morning. Character B is a writer who is always at Character A’s shop, and they secretly have a crush on Character A.
3

So, With all the good qualities that lilac brings- and my cousin who is about to have a baby soon, it was hard not to resist the temptation of making Lilac cordial. Luckily lilacs are in full Bloom, a short trip up to the in-laws house Next door, With their and the plants permission, I came home happy With at least 8 bunches of flowers. The left overs are put into the jar With sugar, for future love spell, memory spell, easing of grief spell, exorcism and blessing.

Also the sugar would taste good in teas and scones and cookies..and the list goes on…

The Lilac cordial would be done in 3 to 4 days and I wil post Pictures up when it is done!

flickr

(via Tea Time)

🎁 21 FUN sorority sister gift basket THEMES! 🎁

I LOVE creating and giving gift baskets! Have fun, theme your items and put together a one-of-a-kind sister gift. Save money too by shopping smart and putting inexpensive things together that look lush in a group. Then add some sorority specific gifts to your basket to make it the ultimate greek girl gift experience!  xoxo ;)

🎁 21 FUN Sorority Gift Basket THEMES: 🎁

  • Pamper Basket: bubble bath, soap, shampoo, lotion, puff, candle, sorority towel, pillowcase, or cozy socks.  
  • Mani-Pedi Basket: emory boards, nail polish, cuticle cream, lotion, buffer., manicure supplies. 
  • Book Basket: best sellers, bookmarks, Amazon gift card, painted wine glass, list of favorite books. 
  • Movie Night Basket: popcorn, candy, sorority throw blanket, movie tickets, DVDs, soda, recommended movie list, sorority pj pants/shorts.  
  • Italian Dinner Basket: pasta, sauce, bread, napkins, wine, wine koozie. 
  • Craft Basket: jewels, paint, mod podge, brushes, craft flowers, markers, wood sorority plaque/paddle (blank ready to paint.) 
  • Fun in the Sun Basket: sorority beach towel, suntan lotion, paperback book, sorority tote bag, flip flops, sorority tumbler and cap. 
  • Baking Basket: cupcake and cookie mixes, frosting, spatulas, oven mitt, sprinkles, baking pan, timer, greek cookie cutters, cookie recipe.  
  • Coffee Basket: bags of gourmet coffee, Starbucks gift card, sorority coffee mug, coffee flavored candies, travel mug, flavored creamers.  
  • Tea Basket: specialty teas, sorority mug, cookies, fancy tea spoon, scones, tea cakes/cookies. 
  • Apple Basket: fresh apples, apple cider, apple snacks, apple chips, apple gum, sour apple candy. 
  • Work Out Basket: towel, sorority shorts or yoga pants, sorority headband, tank top, gift card to sporting goods store, small hand weights, sorority water bottle, healthy snacks. 
  • Cupcake Basket: assortment of different cupcakes, cupcake themed trinkets like ornaments and magnets, cupcake napkins, lemonade. 
  • Gameday Basket: team sweatshirt, team earrings, snacks, foam finger, koozie, pom pom, mascot plush toy, team and sorority tattoos. 
  • S’mores Basket: all the fixings for s’mores, plus hot chocolate packets, sorority mug, napkins, throw blanket, sweatshirt.
  • Adult Coloring Basket: several “adult” coloring books (Michael’s sells them), nice set of colored pencils, tasty snacks, pencil sharpener. 
  • Happy Hour Basket: drink mixers, nuts, chips, cute cups, bottle/wine opener, wine koozie. Theme your basket to a particular drink such as Margaritas, Bloody Marys, wine, or beer. 
  • Game Night Basket: board games, sorority deck of cards, candy, snacks, popcorn, dice, cute cups.
  • Chocolate Lovers Basket: chocolate candy in all forms, chocolate sauce, hot chocolate packets, chocolate themed ornaments, candy bar pillow. 
  • Fruit Basket: fresh fruit, healthy snacks, dried fruit, organic juices, smoothie or frozen yogurt gift card, fruit flavored gum, fruity lip gloss.  
  • Peppermint Basket: peppermint candy, peppermint gum, peppermint cocoa mix, peppermint lip balm. peppermint bath & body, peppermint candle. 
4

Threw a tea party for my 22nd birthday!
Me on the left, and my sister on the right. We both work at the same tea house, so we made all of these yummy treats!
I made my speciality, macarons: raspberry and pistachio.