everyone_takes | (no subject)

"We can do this," Kate says, standing at the kitchen counter, ingredients spread out around her in a haphazard manner. There's too much stuff here, she thinks, she can't remember Marshall ever using this much stuff just to bake, but she's got all the ingredients the recipe calls for.

Of course, she's really not the type to bake, normally, but lately she feels like she wants to do things that she normally doesn't do. No matter what, she feels shitty. Marshall's still gone. There are people around her, people who love her and who are trying, but she doesn't know how to feel better. What she wants, more than anything, is to just sleep for a week, but if she does that, she doesn't know who's going to take care of the two of them.

"Right?" she asks, looking at Effy. She's coaxed her into the kitchen today with the promise of brownies, although now that she's here, she isn't sure they're going to be any good. This is really Marshall's area of expertise and she's pretty sure she's going to butcher them. But maybe that's why she's doing it, just to remind her of all the things he did for her, all the things she can't do herself.

Because she can't. She's really lost without him and she doesn't know how to say it or how to ask for help, because she's never needed help before. She's always had Marshall and he's always had her. It's how they've gotten through life. Now she's alone.

"So there's butter and flour and, uh... baking soda? Or baking powder? Fuck, I can't remember." And she'd consult the book, but her hands are already covered in crap. She really has no idea how he managed to do this so well and always stay clean. Probably why he always wore those super gay aprons.

Threaded | Flat

The last time Effy baked brownies, Panda got mad with her. Not for the brownies themselves, not exactly. That was Katie's idea anyway, drugs sprinkled into the mix like sugar, meant to perk up a birthday party that wasn't exactly taking off the ground. Not one to argue, not one to put up resistance, Effy took from the party what she could, the chance to fuck off and enjoy herself, the warmth that spread through her body and the music that sifted out of the air, seemingly out of nowhere. But it was Panda's birthday, and all she wanted was a normal birthday, a sleepover with handmade pajamas and a game of Twister. She cried in the bathroom, yelled at Effy, and only one question stood out in the brunette's mind at the time.

With everything at home, parents caught in the middle of a messy divorce, a smile permanently ironed on her face for her brother's sake, everything doubled back to one question: when would Effy ever get some time for herself? When did she get to be her?

It's not an answer that she has even now, momentarily staring down at the brownies, remembering the anger which flashed in Panda's eyes when she looked Effy's way. Remembering the knot in her heart that never quite came undone upon seeing Cook kiss her, kiss Panda Pops, like Effy was invisible.

Slowly, the details are coming together. Her hair is bound in careful braids, hanging over either shoulder. An apron has made its way around her small waist, tied in a crooked bow by the small of her back. And she remembers, of all things, the recipe Panda's mom used for those brownies, knows that it's baking powder Kate needs now. With immaculately clean hands, Effy silently measures out the powder, teaspoon held out over the mix as she glances Kate's way, waiting for the okay.