#bbpc

[mostweakhamlets]

Brown Butter Peach Cobbler Chapter 6

If someone were to listen in on the activity in the flat—say a government or supernatural agent with very up-to-date tech and strange abilities—they wouldn’t be able to guess that four people were currently packed inside, doing very important things.  

The only sound was Anathema’s gentle shuffling of papers and then a few rapid beeps. For the first time that week, there was only silent chaos. No screaming baby. No adults talking over one another excitedly. No demon threatening to send anyone to South Africa. Just silent panicking.

Crowley slipped the thermometer out from under Aziraphale’s arm. “Is 38.8 bad?”

Newt cringed from across the room. “It’s not… great. It’s probably less great for a baby.”

Crowley pulled Aziraphale’s arm back into his sleeve and buttoned it up over his chest. Aziraphale didn’t seem to mind as long as he wasn’t forced to exert any energy himself.

After another messy accident and bath that morning, Crowley had noticed a flush to Aziraphale’s cheeks. He was suspiciously quiet and refused to eat—which Crowley thought was most alarming. Within an hour, he was quietly crying in Crowley’s arms and his eyes were fever-bright.

They had suspected that Aziraphale’s malaise didn’t spawn out of the blue. At this point, they had to believe that everything was related, but they had to pull together the evidence to prove so. If only to let them sleep better knowing Aziraphale had a human bug rather than an incurable supernatural disease.    

“So, what do we do?” Crowley asked.

All of the children he had ever known miraculously avoided any serious illnesses. There was a stomach bug or a cold here and there but never anything that warranted serious care.

“Do you want to take him to a human doctor?”

“Of course not. Can’t we give him a pill or something?”

“I don’t think you can give a baby a pill. Morally and physically, it doesn’t seem right.”

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[coffincritiques]

BookBud's April BPC

April 11th: Favorite of the Year So Far

I couldn't pick just one 🤷‍♀️

[indiefic]

Peggy looped her arm through Steve’s leaning into him. “Oh my God,” Barton said, staring openly at them. Peggy rolled her eyes and shook her head, leading Steve back toward the couch. She made him sit in the middle, between her and Maria. “So you two are - “ Maria started, shaking her head. “Yes,” Peggy said with a finality that warded off additional questions. “Okay,” Maria said, throwing back the rest of her drink. Clint was still just staring at them. “Barton, seriously,” Steve chided.

Haha!  This is from Through Dangers Untold and Hardships Unnumbered.

This was the first Steggy fic I started writing and I am inordinately pleased that everything sort of came together in the end.  I had NO IDEA where this story was going when I started writing it.  I thought maybe I could squeak ten chapters out of it. (It ended up being 34).

It was so much fun to write.  And the scene above ESPECIALLY was a blast.  On the surface, it’s not much.  Tony throws a party.  Steve and Peggy go as a couple.  But the back story around it made it so enjoyable to write.

I love, love, LOVE the idea that most of the Avengers know who Peggy Carter is.  Pretty much all of them have some complicated history with her.  And they all have a very certain idea about who she is.  They are very certain of 2 things.  1. Peggy Carter is very scary. 2. Peggy Carter is not prone to human emotions.  Sam calls her the Dragon Lady, which sort of encompasses it all.  Peggy has crazy resources, doesn’t seem to answer to anyone, knows everything, and is generally untouchable.  Nick Fury treads lightly with her.

(Anyone reading the story knows there’s a whole lot more going on with Peggy than the Avengers are necessarily privy to.)

At this point in the story, the Avengers already know that Sharon Carter is Steve’s daughter (I wrote this one before Civil War was released, tyvm). They think that’s weird, but not too weird.  Steve and Sharon are both maybe a little too serious (and nerdy), and they’re both very dedicated to the cause, and earnest.  So while they’re sort of shocked that Steve has a kid at all (and by extension, obviously had sex at some point), they don’t think it’s too strange.

They all think Steve is just a really good guy.  Wholesome, a little corny.  They mistake his reserve for being naive.  All in all, they see him as very G rated.

Steve takes Sharon as his +1 to the party.  Everything is going okay.

And then Peggy shows up, in a red dress, because she likes to make an entrance.

And all of the Avengers suddenly realize that Peggy Carter is the woman Steve had a kid with.  And now Steve and Peggy are together together.  Maria Hill starts drinking.  Barton almost has a stroke.  Tony is first in denial, and then gives them hell about it.  Sharon is about to die from embarrassment.

Meanwhile, Steve and Peggy are having a hell of a good time.  And they quickly excuse themselves to go spend some time together in Steve’s office.

Thanks for the ask!

From the DVD Commentary Meme

[mostweakhamlets]

Brown Butter Peach Cobbler: Chapter 4

Crowley didn’t know the first thing about car safety for babies, but he did believe that strapping Aziraphale into a car seat (in a car not designed for modern child laws) was enough to keep him safe. And so it did.

But it didn’t make Aziraphale enjoy it. He kicked his legs and flailed his arms as Crowley tried shoving them through the appropriate holes in the straps. He protested with a word Crowley assumed to be “no” and other shrieks so loud they could nearly shatter the Bentley’s windows.

“Alright,” Crowley huffed as he finally clipped the buckles in place in front of Aziraphale’s chest. “There we go. Stay like that, and we won’t have any problems.”

Aziraphale wiggled, tears beginning to spill out of his eyes and down his chubby, rosy cheeks. He let out one, heartwrenching sob as if nothing in the world was fair and he was the sole victim of all of life’s most cruel tricks. And with it, the buckles unclasped, and he was free.

“No.” Crowley stared at the straps. “No. No. No. You can’t have your full facilities.”

Aziraphale glared, most likely feeling betrayed that the nice man with the cakes and breads would imprison him.

Antila cried out from her carrier on the ground, unamused with being left alone for so long. She had had a hard week, dealing with a baby pulling her tail and trying to pet her with a harsh hand before Crowley could intervene. The food was also less than ideal with Crowley putting overcooked eggs in her food bowl for breakfast. She had tried telling him that Aziraphale didn’t let them get so rubbery, but he, unfortunately, did not understand. And now she was being taken to London in a cramped carrier with only a few treats to sate her with a baby taking priority over her.

“How did you do that?” Crowley asked, beginning the process of wrangling the angel back into his straps anew. “You haven’t used a miracle before now.”

Aziraphale, as an adult, had developed the habit of having Crowley perform miracles for him rather than do them himself. All he had to do was give Crowley a smile or a little pout and Crowley was weak. Everything from stains to emergency ingredients for a new cake was handled by him, and he received a chipper “Oh, thank you, dear” as a reward.

As a baby, Crowley supposed he had given the spoiled brat everything he wanted, eliminating the need for Aziraphale to use a miracle.

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[mostweakhamlets]

Me, writing the new chapter of the vlogger fic: is there anything better than happy baby noises when they have a bottle

[mostweakhamlets]

Brown Butter Peach Cobbler: 5

Crowley shoved the last piece of cake into Aziraphale’s mouth, scraping in the frosting that had covered his cheeks along with it. He hummed in appreciation and waved his arms as if it was the first time he had ever had sponge cake with strawberries.

“Is it a good idea to only give him junk food?” Anathema asked. “I haven’t seen him eat a vegetable since you guys have been here.”

She was right. In the two days that they had been back in the bookshop, Aziraphale had only eaten cakes and crepes and a little bowl of dry cereal with fruit neatly cut by Newt. Anathema had tried coaxing him into eating a singular piece of broccoli, but he simply turned his head away each time it got close to his mouth and eventually looked to Crowley for help. Crowley told her that he was nervous about a witch fattening him up to cook.

“He’s fine,” Crowley said. “He doesn’t even need to eat. He’s just spoiled.”

Aziraphale squirmed in his high chair. Newt stepped up with a damp towel to wipe his face and hands clean.

“And who spoiled him?” Newt asked with a cheeky grin.  

Crowley glared. “Who destroyed our most valuable resource?”

Newt cleared his throat and ducked his head, scrubbing at the cake on Aziraphale’s fingers. Crowley had forbidden Newt from directly helping with the research and instead had placed him in charge of babysitting. But since Aziraphale would pitch a fit any time he couldn’t see Crowley, babysitting always took place in the kitchen where Anathema and Crowley worked, which led to Newt chiming in every time either of them brought up a question.

He had proven himself to be helpful. He had a good mind, Anathema said, when he connected information to each other. Books referenced one another and scrolls, written in a tongue only Crowley knew, gave only vague information. It took their collective brainpower to apply everything to the bigger picture: what made up summoning rituals and pacts, and how do they affect a corporation.

It felt like a large jigsaw puzzle, and Newt’s eyes weren’t yet tired of staring at the pieces.

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[mostweakhamlets]

Excerpt and lil doodle from chapter three of my fic Brown Butter Peach Cobbler

[mostweakhamlets]

Brown Butter Peach Cobbler Chapter 3

Fifth Installment of the Vlogger AU Series (early updates on patreon!)

–

Just like he did for Aziraphale almost every week, Crowley set up their camera and laptop in front of the kitchen island and tidied up the background. He straightened the plants on their countertops and spent too long arranging their pot of utensils and hanging pots over the stove.

Aziraphale sat on the floor, happily shoving a piece of cake in the general direction of his mouth. Crowley hadn’t managed to get him to find interest in any other food. He only wanted desserts and since they didn’t exactly need nourishment, Crowley figured that it couldn’t be so bad to give in. It might give the brat a bit of an attitude to appease him at every chance, but Crowley would deal with that later when he gathered his bearings.

“Alright,” Crowley said, looking down at the messy child. “You need to be quiet while I do this.”

Aziraphale cooed. He shoved the last of his cake in his mouth, smearing frosting on his cheeks and dropping sizeable crumbs on the floor. Crowley wrinkled his nose. A bath would come later.

“I’m serious,” Crowley continued, hoping that his Aziraphale was still in there, able to understand what he was saying. “No little baby sounds. And don’t start crying.”

Aziraphale looked away, turning a chubby, messy cheek to Crowley. So much for the adult angel being in there somewhere (though perhaps the adult Aziraphale would also react like that).

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