Headcannon where you're having the worst day and Severus asks if he can help you and you end up cuddling together (if that's not too hard as a prompt, thank you <3)
It’s pouring outside and you are drenched to the bone. It has been a horrible day, and it’s only going to get worse. After all, Severus has been working late all week long and leaving before you’re fully awake in the morning. Apparently, a new patent is coming through for one of his potions, so he’s been forced into the drudgery of legal bullshit.
But you accidentally chose mismatched shoes in the dark and didn’t realize until you reached your office. Your boss chewed you out because you missed one typo on the memo and he embarrassed himself by tripping over it during the meeting. Your friend from the Unspeakables sent you an announcement to her baby shower via interdepartmental mail, which isn’t really bad, per se, but you’ve been dealing with a particularly bad bout of the baby crazies lately even though you know it’s a bad time to start a family and Severus has never really wanted to talk much about it.
Then they were out of avocado at the cafeteria, so you had to suffer through a turkey avocado sandwich without half of what makes it great.
If all of that wasn’t bad enough, you were forced to walk home because they ran out of floo powder just as you reached the fireplaces.
“With my luck,” you grumble at yourself, fidgeting with your keys and swearing when they drop onto the muddy ground, “I’ll probably start my period as well and come down with dragon pox.”
The door opens quietly as you turn and bend down to grab your keys, but you are too busy grumbling and nearly fall forward into the mud. Two arms grab you from behind and pull you into the house just as your fingers grasp onto your muddy keys and you yelp with surprise as the door slams closed, trapping you in the gloomy darkness of the entrance hall.
“Well, hello there, you,” Severus purrs, pulling you into his arms from behind.
“Meep!” You drop your keys and your bag abruptly and melt into him, your startled squeak changing into a contented cry of surprise.
“Looks like you need a little…change of clothing, yes?” He spins you around in his arms and kisses you on the forehead, pulling his wand from his robes and casting a silent spell with a flourish. Suddenly, your cold, soggy clothing is gone leaving you wearing your favorite comfy pajama set, complete with bunny slippers.
“The slippers are a nice touch,” you remark, giggling.
“I aim to please,” he replies with a knowing smirk, bowing theatrically at the waist.
“You know, if you ever released that spell to the public, it would improve nearly every relationship in Wizarding Britain,” you continue, wrapping your arms around him and letting him lead you into the front room, where a tea tray loaded with goodies sits on the table across from the couch.
“Ah, but I prefer to keep the best for the one I love the most,” Severus replies, sitting down and pouring you a cup of tea exactly the way you like best. “Do try the jam thumbprint cookies. I used current and raspberry this time.”
You look at the freshly-baked cookies hungrily. You know that Severus always cooks to relieve stress, but he’s always had issues with baking.
“They look perfect, Severus.”
Severus obviously preens at the praise, even though you can tell he’s trying to avoid doing so.
A single bite and your eyes go wide. “This is amazing!”
“Not as amazing as you are,” he replies, placing his head on your shoulder.
“What’s wrong?” You can tell that there’s something on his mind when he gets this clingy.
“I…had an epiphany today,” he says slowly. “Let me preface this by saying that I don’t want to lose you, but after this week…I’ve begun to think that…maybe…we’re drifting.”
Your heart sinks into your belly and you put down your tea with a loud clatter.
“Are you…breaking up with me?” Your voice is disturbingly even.
“I just had the absolute worst day at work, you know,” your voice wavers as you hold back tears, “and I’ve missed you terribly all week and…and you tell me….”
You hate how you begin to sob, but his warmth as he wraps his arms around you is still comforting, even though you keep telling yourself that it will only make things more painful in the end.
“Shhhh, nobody is leaving anybody, my love. Now, I know I’ve been rather absent lately, but I wanted to tell you some good news. The patent is in place and I received a bonus in addition to the advance payment from the supplier. Finally, I…can do what I’ve been waiting so long to do.”
You blink, looking up at him as you wipe the tears out of your eyes. “What?”
“I finally have enough. I…oh, this isn’t coming out the way I imagined, but…”
He pulls back and rifles in his robes before pulling out a small golden box.
“Please,” he says, breathing heavily, “do me the honor of becoming my wife.”
Your eyes widen and you nearly fall backwards, suddenly feeling so stupid for having doubted him.
“I look silly,” you say, because you can’t think of anything to say.
“You look lovely, as always,” he replies. “Don’t feel like you have to answer right away. I understand if you…have to think about it.”
“No!” you cry, feeling bad when he flinches, “I mean, yes, YES, good lord, of course I want to marry you! I’d have to be crazy not to!”
Relief fills his face and his smile is something of beauty as he beams at you.
“Some people might say that you’re horribly mistaken,” he quips, finally, handing the ring to you.
“Some people are idiots,” you reply, slipping the ring onto your finger.
“Can’t argue with that,” he laughs, his eyes opening with surprise as you hug-tackle him and kiss him deeply.
“Hey,” he says softly when you both come up for air, “that was my line.”
“Oh, don’t worry,” you reply softly, poking his nose gently before nuzzling him gently, “I’ll let you return the favor tonight.”
“Bugger tonight, how about now?” Severus replies insistently, kissing you deeply until all you can think of is how happy you are lying in his arms.
A-Z Vegan food ideas and recipes for when you can’t think what to eat.
I’ve collected my personal veg recipe list. I haven’t tried every
recipe so I can’t guarantee all of them. If you want to add to this list
or take it and add to it, that’s awesome. I’ve used *s to mark the
recipes I’m particularly in love with.
A Apple (apple fries) (apple slices w/ pb) (dipped in caramel) Avocado (avocado fries)
There is so much to say about this down-home, comforting, mmm-inducing, sweet-savory melding gem of a cookie that I hardly know where to start. Modified from a recipe by Ann Gentry, I added a signature K&C sprinkle of flaky sea salt on top of the jam, and finished the peanut buttery masterpieces off with finely chopped, roasted and salted peanuts.
The result? OH EM GEE THEY’RE JUST SO FREAKING GOOD.
Recipe of the Day: Ina’s Jam Thumbprint Cookies When a cookie recipe has 400 top reviews and counting, you know it’s one worth baking. Ina’s buttery thumbprint cookies are rolled in shredded coconut and baked with a drop of your favorite apricot or raspberry jam in the center.
Oh my giddy aunt, but these cookies are flipping fab. I admit, I’m something of a slut for taking baking recipes and “ruining” them by spoiling the fun and making them considerably less unhealthy, yet deceptively every bit as delicious as their waistline-ruining counterparts. This is a rare recipe that didn’t actually require any healthy tweaking from me (notwithstanding a few substitutions based solely on what I happened to have in my kitchen storecupboards) and is wheat-free, vegan, and absolutely glorious. Though I might go crazy and add a little flaxseed to the mix next time to see what happens. *insert diabolical laughter here*
(loosely adapted from Gwyneth Paltrow’s mum kinda)
Makes exactly 43
1 cup white spelt flour
1 cup whole spelt flour
1 ½ cups raw whole almonds, blitzed in a food processor until smallish powdery chunks (it’s ok to leave some bits in, as this makes life more interesting)
½ teaspoon salt (DO NOT fuck up and put a whole teaspoon in by mistake. If you do, carefully scoop half of it back out. This will in no way affect the overall fabulousness of your cookie. Trust me. *whistles innocently*)
½ teaspoon ground cinnamon
½ cup canola oil
¼ cup agave syrup
¼ cup maple syrup
some jam: just about any jam will do, as long as it’s not too runny. I used a crabapple blend my grandmother made recently, but it works beautifully with apricot or raspberry, and now that I’m thinking about it, I bet prune butter would be drool-inducingly gorgeous in these as well.
Here’s how they’re done:
Preheat oven to 350°F. Combine everything but the jam in a large bowl and stir until the dough comes together nicely. Place in tablespoon-sized balls on a cookie sheet, and use your thumb to make a well in the centre of each cookie. Fill each of these wells with a little jam. Bake until the cookies are beginning to brown, about 15 minutes or so. Place on wire racks to cool. Tuck in voraciously.
Luke’s keys jingle as he turns the knob on the front door. He takes in a deep breath as he opens the door. The smell of apples and cinnamon and freshly baked bread invades his senses as he steps inside and removes his jacket. Your cozy flat looks nothing like it did a few days ago at your Halloween party. All the cobwebs are gone, there are no more pumpkins littered about, and any remnants of all things spooky have been removed. Instead, there are miniature snowmen on the mantelpiece, a countdown to Christmas sits on the table in the front hallway, and there’s a subtle feeling of warmth radiating around the entire space.
“(Y/N)?” Luke calls as he drops his keys in the dish by the smallest snowman.
“In the kitchen!” You reply before going back to humming along to the Christmas carols coming from your laptop.
Luke makes his way to the kitchen. He rounds the corner to find you wearing your favourite Christmas apron, your hair tied on top of your head in a messy bun, flour splattered all down your front. He chuckles as you pull two mini loaf pans from the oven.
“You do realise that it’s only the first week of November, right?” Luke comments as he comes up beside you. He reaches over to a plate of oatmeal chocolate cookies sitting on the counter.
You swat at his hand, causing him to withdraw his fingers. “No, sir. Those are for your mother. And yes, I am perfectly aware that it’s the first week of November.” You wipe your hands on a tea towel before tossing it on the countertop. “And now that you’re home, you can help me with the spritz cookies.”
Luke rubbed the back of his neck. “Are those the ones where I get to use the little gun or the ones that always get stuck in my teeth?”
A giggle escapes your lips as you remember the memory to which Luke is referring. The two of you were making cookies for your work’s annual Christmas party last year. You were trying a new recipe for thumbprint jam cookies, and Luke had to sample a minimum of three cookies from each batch. But something had gone wrong with the jam mixture in the first one, and raspberry filling somehow managed to glue the inside of his lips to the front of his teeth.
“The one where you get to use the little gun,” you smile.
“Oh, thank God.” Luke mutters.
“Yeah, I think I’ve retired the thumbprint cookies for awhile. Wouldn’t want anything to happen to that winning smile of yours.”
Luke cheekily smacks your ass, causing a small yelp to fall from your lips. He grins at you as you reach behind you to grab a rolling pin, an equally sassy smile forming on your face.
Before you have time to offer an empty threat to your boyfriend, the sound of “All I Want For Christmas Is You” comes drifting through your small kitchen. You and Luke exchange a knowing glance. In a matter of moments, Luke has reached across the counter, turning up the volume on your laptop, and you’re belting out the lyrics into your rolling pin microphone.
Luke grins as you prance around the kitchen, enjoying watching you sing as much as you’re enjoying making a fool of yourself. You serenade your boyfriend, trying your very best to get him to dance with you. It isn’t until your plea to have him ‘holding on to you so tight’ that he takes you in his arms and spins you around the kitchen, laughing and singing right along with you.
The song finishes, leaving you and Luke a giggling mess in the middle of your baking wonderland. Luke’s arms are still wrapped around your waist, your hands pressed against his chest.
“You know, as cheesy as it may sound,” Luke looks down at you, “you’re the only thing I actually want for Christmas this year.”
“Your cheesier than Auntie Caroline’s famous cheese ball, Luke.” You stand on your tiptoes to leave a kiss on the tip of his nose. “But I wouldn’t want you any other way.”
Luke lets out a laugh that rumbles deep in his belly. “Did you really just compare me to Auntie Caroline’s cheese ball?”
“Maaaaaaybe.” You laugh right along side him.
“You’re such a mess.”
As your giggle fits die down, Luke presses a sweet kiss to your lips. He pulls away with a wide smile on his face.
“Someone’s been sampling her own baked apples,” Luke comments having tasted the combination of apples and cinnamon on your lips.
“Mmm. Would you like to try some?”
“I’d love to.” Luke grins as he leans down for another kiss.
Rose was right. Mac-and-cheese and a riotous round of aliens vs. dinosaurs was more than enough for a three-year-old reveling in a night spent with his idolized big sister and basically brother-in-law. There was a reason the double-fudge cookies were kept on the highest pantry shelf. Multiple reasons, among these a second game of time-traveling extraterrestrial warfare which ended in plastic pterodactyls chucked at his head and a mile-high stack of picture books that must be read till his voice grows hoarse and Rose offers to take over, shooting him a smile that was more than a little smug.
The Doctor can’t resist hovering in the hall, watching the pair of them. Warm and soothing, Rose’s voice washes over him, recounting the oft-told tale of The Lonely Dinosaur. It’s one of Tony’s favorite stories and, anachronisms notwithstanding, one of the Doctor’s favorites, too. Everyone loves a good happily-ever-after.
Rose wets her finger to pry apart two stubborn pages, the culprit a strawberry-jam thumbprint on the corner of page fifteen. She picks at it with her thumbnail and shakes her head, lips twitching before rolling her eyes very obviously toward the half-open door. Reluctant to disturb Tony in response to the Doctor’s expression of wide-eyed perplexion, she mimes the pouring of a kettle and he nods his understanding.
“He’s asleep,” is the gleeful whisper she greets him with some ten minutes later in which time the Doctor has set out two cuppas and the remaining cookies, cleared a path through the clutter of pointy plastic army men and velociraptors, and started an (electric) fire in the hearth. Jackie and Pete refuse to invest in the real thing till Tony stops seeing anything forbidden as an invitation to unparalleled adventures. With the Doctor and Rose as role models, Jackie is fond of preaching, this could take a long time.
He doesn’t bother bragging, not when it all pales in comparison to Rose’s accomplishment.
“Rose Tyler, I don’t know how you do it.”
“Not giving in to his puppy eyes helps,” she says, rather dryly. Still, she wraps her hands over his, round the steaming mug of tea he offers, so she can’t be that mad.
“Especially when he asks for just one more cookie.”
“They remind me of yours a bit,” he wheedles. “All big and pleading - he can even squeeze out a little tear. Makes you want to do anything to make him smile again. Cookie?”
He hands her the package and she takes a couple, dunking one in her tea. Even with her eyes focused on the bobbing chocolate crumbs, Rose’s lips twitch in the shadow of a smile that he knows she won’t admit to if he prods her.
“Just trust me next time, yeah?”
“You’ll have ruling power of veto,” he promises.
“I’d better,” from over the rim of her mug she flashes him a tongue-touched smile, “else you’ll be stuck with bathtime and bedtime stories.”
Chuckling, the Doctor wraps an arm around her shoulders, drawing her close. Mug clasped tightly in her hands, she eases back against him. “Oh, I can think of worse things. Tony’s a good boy.”
“Mmm,” agrees Rose. “I was worried, when he was a baby, that he’d turn out like my cousins. He used to cry whenever I held him …”
“Tony loves you,” says the Doctor, tone brooking no room for argument.
“No, I know,” she angles her head to kiss the piece of chest visible between mismatched shirt buttons. “Think he just knew something was wrong, that I wasn’t - all the way here, yeah?”
“And are you? Now?”
“You’re here, aren’t you?” she says, and that’s answer enough. “I think Tony might be even happier than me. You know he asked Mum to get him a suit for Halloween?”
“You’re kidding.” The Doctor’s voice goes high-pitched in flattered disbelief. He can’t stop the pleased smile that spreads across his face, crinkling the corners of his eyes.
“Who else’ll watch old Star Treks with him?”
“And pause it every two seconds to answer every single question he has? Or play a dozen games of - whatever this is, in a row?”
“Aliens versus dinosaurs,” says the Doctor. “Then the army men were abducted by the aliens and allied themselves with the dinosaurs. Bit cliche, that. I’ll attribute it to overstimulation. His questions on Star Trek are usually very profound. You’re staring at me.”
“It’s sweet, Doctor.” He wrinkles his nose at the endearment, if only because he knows it will make her laugh and kiss him again. “Alright. Manly, then. S’pose I just thought - it’s different, seeing you like this. Good different,” she adds quickly.
“But different,” says the Doctor. “How?”
“We’ve never been around kids much, you and me. There was Chloe and Nancy and them, but that was never - and I know you were a dad once …”
“That was a long time ago.” The Doctor stares into the artificially crackling flames. “That was different.”
“I know.” Rose’s head drops to her own chest, leaving him incongruously cold and confused till he tugs her back, shaking his head against her hair in self-recrimination.
“Good different,” he echoes her. “Very good different. My people were telepathic, Rose, but we were also very practical. The familial bond, say, between a mother and daughter was more like - like a business partnership than what you and Jackie have.”
“Or like Tony with you?”
“Yes.” She cranes her neck to face him as he nods, chin colliding with her forehead. Worry lines are forming there and he runs a tender thumb along their length. “I’ve never had anyone look up to me like Tony has. Emotions only complicated things.”
“Is that why you ran away?”
“That’s … part of it.” He pauses, carefully measuring his words. “But it still followed me. I let some antiquated ideals rule my life for the longest time, dictate how I was allowed to feel for you, how close I could allow myself to get to you. What we have now we could have had ages ago.”
“But you’re here now.”
“I’m here now,” he agrees. “I’m with you. We’re sitting in front of a fake fire and our biggest worry is what Jackie will say over how many artificial flavors those cookies were full of. It’s still the realest thing in my life.”
“I think they’re organic, actually.” Rose shifts in his hold to read the bright foil packaging. Snorting, the Doctor pokes her ribs, then wraps his long fingers round her waist to pull her into him again; the other places her half-finished mug on the coffee table.
“Fine, ruin my romantic declaration.”
At least the granules of sugar that coat her bottom lip are reassuringly real, as is the way she moans his name when he sucks it into his mouth.