Summer Smith (
somethingwithturquoise) wrote2022-12-18 12:38 pm
Entry tags:
MHA #8; Sunday Afternoon [12/18].
Soooo, a lot had happened last week, and don't even get Summer started on the multiple Summers of it all. In fact, she was quite ready to breeze right past that (and a little further back, too, while she was at it), generally pretend nothing had happened, and head on upstairs with a armful of baking supplies and very specific cookie cutters and baking molds to go knocking on Stark's door.
Because there were supposed to be cookies today, and cookies there would be. Like she was one to let a very weird week stop her from blatantly ignoring any awkwardness that might have occurred and just move on with her damn life.
[[ for he that lives there! ]]
Because there were supposed to be cookies today, and cookies there would be. Like she was one to let a very weird week stop her from blatantly ignoring any awkwardness that might have occurred and just move on with her damn life.
[[ for he that lives there! ]]

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Except for any weird things that might have happened. He stressed about those. That was how he lived his life.
He definitely wasn't expecting any knocks on his door so opened it with a quizzical look on his face.
"Oh. Hello, Summer. Are you... what's going on?"
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Not that he had her!
"We're making cookies?"
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Not that anything had happened in the past week that may have sort of left that lost in the weeds, or anything.
"We were talking about putting crab in cookies, and then we were all, 'okay, but what if they were just shaped like crabs' and I was all 'something about the party maybe because, hilarious, it would be crabs but kkosher'"
Or something like that.
A lot had happened since then.
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"Sorry. Come in," he said,
stepping back so she could get through the door."
"Crab shaped cookies sound good. Much better than cookies made of crabs."
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He tried to avoid making people angry as a general rule if he could help it.
"What did you bring? I should have most things for baking, I think. You're sure you're not a robot?"
Look, that was a very normal segue.
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Look, a Summer was a Summer was a Summer.
"And, yeah," she set her things on the counter, "I figured you'd have plenty of the basic baking shit on hand, so this is all mostly decoration things. God knows I've got way too much that hanging around my place anyway."
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"Are we going to make the cookies red or use icing to decorate?" he asked, looking over what she'd put on counter. "Or will they just be crab-shaped? Icing is good, I think."
Even if it had the possibility of becoming very messy.
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"And I definitely came prepped for icing," she said, holding up containers of red, pink, and blue, "as well as sprinkles."
There were too many different sprinkles to actually bother listing.
"But I like the idea of making some of them red, too."
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"We can use food coloring, for the red ones. Some of them are going to be pink? I think sugar cookies are easy enough to make vegan. I have butter that isn't really butter."
"I like the sprinkles," he added, grinning at the assortment of them.
As long as there wasn't edible glitter. Which he had in a cabinet somewhere.
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"Of course there's going to be pink ones," she said, extracting from the bag some white frosting as well. "And you haven't really met that many other Summers, either."
Also, there was a good chance her perspective might be a bit skewed, since most of their homicidal tendencies tended to be very....self-focused.
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And that she'd notice if he wasn't himself.
Nodding to himself he started opening cabinets for mixing bowls and ingredients. When he opened a drawer he pulled out a handful of gold-wrapped chocolate coins. "Those aren't mine."
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"Oh, yeah, I had some of those in my utensil drawer. Also, check your shoes. I had to switch to my secondary flags because I just mashed an unsuspecting doughnut into the toe of my favorite pair."
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"There were doughnuts in your shoes? I haven't gone outside today so I haven't put any on. I hope the doughnut comes out of yours."
He turned to open the fridge then for the non-butter butter.
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"Unpleasant. I'm sorry. I'll have to check mine if I go out. I don't think I'm going out. No reason to."
Stark already had company and something to do!
"Flour, butter, sugar, vanilla," he said, nodding at each container. "And so many sprinkles."
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Stark didn't make cookies that had shapes often at all.
"So it's a good thing you have so many. We'll have options, once we make some dough. We should start that. Butter and sugar first."
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"And you're right," he said, nodding as he started on creaming the butter and sugar together. "The nurses and Stabby might never forgive me if they knew." And Stabby might get, well, stabby.
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"I'm trying to avoid needing medical attention. People get upset with me when things happen like getting shot a little."
Was Stark grinning a little down at his bowl when he said that? Yes.