SuperDiamond

(this took me like a week so pls have mercy on me, after like the third one I started tweaking out so if there are mistakes, no there are not)

even when she’d moved in and complained about the black paint chipping off, how they didn’t even fulfill their purpose and seemed to be there simply for decoration rather than use he didn’t do anything. he’d initially waved her off, offered a teasing remark about how he’d do an adequate job at keeping her warm himself and there was no need for a slab of metal.

— “don’t make them too thin, they’re not supposed to look like flat stanley.”

she’d cut him slack at first and didn’t push the matter further. though after nearly two weeks straight of constantly being wrapped up in blankets and wearing four pairs of socks, she’d simply had enough and decided to resolve the predicament she’d found herself in. and naturally, what better way to counter the biting chill than blasting the oven on? it was so old it transferred most of the heat to the surroundings rather than actually use it to for its intended purpose anyways.

— “what, like this? or thinner?”

blue eyes lazily drifted to the side, his movements with the rolling pill coming to a halt as he waited for her to saunter over and asses his work. soft padding of feet against tile sounded throughout the space as she neared, drying her hands off with a tea towel. her shoulder brushed against his as she leaned over to peer down at the floured countertop.

— “…too big, too thick. roll it out a bit more. and put your back into it.”

— “that’s what you said at first, though you grew to like it.”

silence. a click of her tongue.

— “roll the damn dough out, fostman.”

— “yes ma’am.” he murmured back in response, a shit eating grin blooming across his face as he caught sight of the exasperated look she’d sent his way.

the counters were a mess of cooling racks, icing sugar and tubes of food colouring. the cookie cutters had been tossed off to the side once they were no longer deemed necessary and attention had been brought elsewhere. namely, the sugar cookies and piping bags full of coloured icing.

— “you’re not gonna believe how sick this is gonna look. don’t you dare look, it’s gonna be a surprise.”

lane’s words came out half garbled as he spoke between mouthfuls of a luke warm cookie he’d shoved into his mouth. she gently nudged him with her elbow, focus never drifting away from the sugar cookie she’d busied herself with decorating.

— “you don’t have a single creative bone in your body.”

— “i have a very vivid imagination, thanks. how the hell did you think i got through highschool? my hand alone? no way babe.”

an exasperated sigh slipped past her lips at his rebuttal, what seemed to be the fifth one in the span of an hour, as she slowly manoeuvred the piping bag downwards atop the cookie’s ‘head’. she swirled the icing before loosening her grip on the silicone bag, easing the metal tip off the delicate surface of the cookie.

— “…what goes on in that head of yours besides sex and boobs?”

— “none of that actually. i have visions of your beautiful face, that gorgeous smile… and okay, maybe that sweet pair-”

— “don’t you dare finish that sentence. you were being so tolerable for a change.”

— “you know you love me.”

a comfortable silence settled between them as they became engrossed in the simple act of piping icing onto sugar cookies, something so domestic and tooth rottingly sweet lane almost couldn’t believe he’d allowed himself to get dragged into something so soft. and although he wouldn’t ever dare to voice it out loud, to allow such words to slip past the confines of his inner dialogue, he found himself enjoying it. stood besides her - just far enough to not allow him to peek at her work yet just close enough that he could feel that familiar warmth radiating off of her - engaging in something so ‘couple-y’ as baking together.

until the soft lilt of her voice cut through the silence, the piping bag she once held now residing atop the floured surface.

— “i’ve finished lane. you?”

— “…uh, yeah. hold on… yeah. ‘m finished.”

— “great, let me see yours first!” she grinned, turning on her heel and pressing her body up against his side. she tilted her head to the side, eyes landing upon the work top where a few cookies were strewn around.

her expression faltered.

— “…oh my god. is that supposed to be ludwig?”

— “how’d you know?” he grinned, looking far too pleased at himself, “told you i’m an artist at heart. you see how good the resemblance is?”

there lay a pale beige ‘man’, the edges slightly browned as it had the misfortune of residing on the side of the oven where it happened to work far more efficiently. though that wasn’t what caught her attention, no, it was… lane’s own input that truly grabbed her eye.

random streaks of yellow covered the top half of its head, with big green dots crookedly piped onto either side of its face. right in the middle a long L shaped line was situated between its ‘eyes’, practically covering the entire expanse of the small circle it had as its head. and right below that harsh L shape, a straight line with a tiny triangle beneath it; a small, toothy fang.

— “why’s his…” she pointed a finger towards the sugar cookie, circling its head in the air with a fingernail, “nose so damn big? it’s covering half the damn cookie.”

— “because his nose is fucking huge. i stay true to the source.”

— “he looks so sad.”

— “yeah? for the record, he doesn’t. but look how happy we are.”

eyes darted upwards, landing on two more cookies above ‘ludwig’. she presumed the right one was lane himself - streaks of black icing as hair, two blue dots as eyes and a small, thin black curve serving as a smile. atop one of the blue dots of icing, two smaller dollops of white icing - a poor attempt an an eyebrow piercing.

it wasn’t anything special, though it was clear it was supposed to be lane. and then, her gaze shifted to the cookie besides ‘lane’.

it was her.

though almost immediately it was obvious he’d spent a good majority of his time and focus on her edible form. her ‘hair’ had been piped carefully and precisely, each strand clear as opposed to the smears of icing his other cookies had been on the receiving end of. two dots of coloured icing served as a representation of her eyes, and he’d even gone as far as to add 3 thin lines off each respective dot as eyelashes. the curve of her ‘mouth’ was almost perfect, the icing completely smooth as though he had been bestowed with the steadiest hands known to man.

he’d even gone as far as to give her a shirt - a luxury sugar cookie lane and ludwig hadn’t been able to afford. pink icing smeared across the body, other than her ‘hands’ and ‘legs’. ‘white boy’ messily piped atop the pink base, as though there wasn’t enough space for any further lettering. she caught on immediately - it was that god awful ‘white boy of the year’ shirt of his she sometimes threw on when lounging around the house.

he’d pushed their edible forms together as close as possible to make it seem as though they were holding hands. that alone was enough to cause her cheeks to pull taught, flashing him a toothy grin.

— “lane, that’s so adorable.”

he quirked an eyebrow upwards, eyes meeting hers as he stared back at her. chewing, as amidst her appreciation for his labour he’d taken it upon himself to taste test more of their bakes. his hand froze midway through the air, hovering over one of the sugar cookies that had remained un decorated. lane seemed almost confused, as though he’d completely forgot what the hell they had been doing for the past hour and the fact he himself had encouraged her to catch sight of ‘them’.

— “huh?”

he glanced down. paused, remembered.

— “oh, yeah. looks like us, doesn't it? edible version.”

she could’ve sworn she could make out a faint blush blooming across his cheeks. as despite the persona he fought so desperately to uphold, she was well aware he was just as capable of being flustered as any other person. the hand once hovering in the air now rose up to scratch at his neck, eyes averting away from her warm expression as he tried to calm his erratic heart and school his features back into their usual state.

she wasn’t having any of it.

she turned on her heels. warm, smaller palms clamped around his waist as a soft chuckle rumbled up from her chest. standing up on her tiptoes, she peered up at him with a smile tugging at her lips before landing a quick kiss to the side of his jaw.

— “you spent so much time on me. and you made us hold hands, and you gave me your shirt. lane, who the hell knew you were so soft at heart? have i told you i love you?”

— “…i’m not soft at heart,” he retorted, his voice uncharacteristically meek. though quickly he readjusted himself, cleared his throat before he quickly followed up, “it’s just you. you do this to me.”

total fail. he was supposed to play it off cool, she noticed his hiccup.

— “you’re so full of shit,” she giggled, “give me a kiss.”

— “yo, not infront of lub-”

— “shut up.”