#Continuous Fryer Machine

[gulabsinghcompany]

Continuous Fryer Manufacturers in India | Gulab Singh and Company

The food industry in India has seen remarkable growth over the past few decades. With changing consumer preferences and an increasing demand for ready-to-eat snacks, manufacturers are continuously seeking innovative solutions to streamline their processes. One essential piece of equipment that has revolutionized snack production is the continuous fryer. As a leading player in the food machinery sector, Gulab Singh and Company proudly stands as one of the top continuous fryer manufacturers in India, catering to the diverse needs of snack producers across the country.

What is a Continuous Fryer?

A continuous fryer is a high-capacity frying machine designed to operate without interruption. Unlike traditional batch fryers, continuous fryers offer a steady flow of food products, ensuring consistent frying and enhanced efficiency. The food items move through the fryer on a conveyor belt or similar system, allowing for uniform cooking and a streamlined production process.

At Gulab Singh and Company, we specialize in manufacturing top-of-the-line continuous fryers that cater to a wide range of snack products, including chips, namkeens, nuts, and more. Our fryers are designed to offer precision frying, energy efficiency, and durability, making them an ideal choice for snack producers.

Why Choose Continuous Fryers?

Increased Efficiency: One of the biggest advantages of continuous fryers is their ability to handle large volumes of food in a short amount of time. This is especially beneficial for high-demand industries such as snack manufacturing, where quick turnaround times are essential.

Consistent Product Quality: Traditional batch frying methods can sometimes result in uneven cooking, leading to varying textures and flavors. With a continuous fryer, each piece of food is exposed to the same conditions throughout the frying process, resulting in uniform cooking and a consistent end product.

Energy Saving: Continuous fryers are known for their energy efficiency. Since the system operates without stopping, there is minimal energy loss. Additionally, advanced designs help in optimizing oil usage, reducing overall operational costs.

Automation and Precision: Modern continuous fryers come equipped with automated controls that allow manufacturers to monitor and adjust parameters like temperature, frying time, and oil levels. This ensures that the product is fried to perfection every time while minimizing human intervention.

Why Choose Gulab Singh and Company?

As one of the most reputable continuous fryer manufacturers in India, Gulab Singh and Company takes pride in offering cutting-edge frying solutions tailored to the needs of Indian snack manufacturers. Our continuous fryers are built to last, ensuring high performance, safety, and efficiency.

Customizable Solutions: We understand that every snack product has unique frying requirements. That’s why we offer customized continuous fryers that cater to specific product needs, ensuring optimal frying results.

Durability and Reliability: Our fryers are built with high-quality materials that ensure durability, even in demanding industrial environments. With robust construction and state-of-the-art technology, our fryers guarantee long-lasting performance with minimal maintenance.

Commitment to Innovation: At Gulab Singh and Company, innovation is at the heart of our manufacturing process. We continuously strive to integrate the latest technological advancements into our fryers, ensuring that our clients stay ahead of the competition.

After-Sales Support: We believe in building long-term relationships with our clients. Our dedicated after-sales team provides ongoing support, ensuring that your continuous fryer operates smoothly for years to come.

Visit our Website: - https://www.gulabsinghandco.com/continuous-fryer-manufacturers/

+91-8340521544 +91-9953108079, vishal@gulabsinghandco.in

Visit our Website: - https://www.gulabsinghandco.com/continuous-fryer-manufacturers/

+91-8340521544 +91-9953108079, vishal@gulabsinghandco.in

[ultronmachine]

Basket fryer with automatic discharge for testing video|continuous frying machine 

Applications of basket frying machine It is suitable for all kinds of vegetable, fruit, meat, snacks, etc. Wechat/whatsapp:+86 13213203466

[joyshinemachinerycompany]

Basket fryer with automatic discharge for testing video| continuous frying machine

Applications of basket frying machine It is suitable for all kinds of vegetable, fruit, meat, snacks, etc. Wechat/whatsapp:+86 13213203466

[cnyazhongmachinery]

Bean frying equipment for sale|peanut continuous fryer price| snacks frying machine

Broad bean frying machine is used for frying all kinds of food, such as flour products, meat, chicken, beef and so on. Capacity:50kg/h -500kg/h Wechat/whatsapp:8613213203466

[nameless-ken]

Bucky Barnes x Reader - part three

The Stranger That Knows Me Best is a heartfelt story about connection, vulnerability, and taking chances on the unexpected. Two introverts discover that sometimes, the person who understands you best is the one you’ve never met.

part one | part two

Word count: 5.4k

Warnings: lots of angst, mentions of drinking

Masterlist

The bar is faintly lit and alive with the various conversations and the occasional burst of laughter from the happy drunk patrons. You step inside with Bucky, a bluesy guitar riff spilling out from a corner where a live band plays, instantly aiding a laid-back atmosphere.

Sam waves you over from a booth near the corner, a broad grin on his face. “About time you two showed up! I was starting to think Barnes was going to keep you all to himself.”

Bucky rolls his eyes, his hand lightly grazing your back as he guides you toward the table. “Relax, Wilson. We’re here, aren’t we?”

Sam’s eyes flick between the two of you, his grin widening. “Oh, I see how it is. Keeping me waiting because you’re too busy whispering sweet nothings to each other.”

You feel your cheeks heat up but you play it off with a laugh. 

“Yeah, sure, Sam. Because that’s definitely what we were doing.” Bucky remarks.

Sam winks. “Hey, no judgment here. I’m just saying, I’ve never seen Bucky willingly spend this much time with anyone who isn’t me.”

Bucky groans, sliding into the booth across from Sam. “Can we not do this right now?”

You scoot in beside him, hiding a smile as Sam leans back, clearly enjoying himself.

A server stops by and takes your drink orders—Sam goes for a beer, Bucky sticks with whiskey, and you pick something light, wanting to pace yourself.

As the night progresses, Sam keeps the jokes flowing, dragging stories out of Bucky about their time working at a fast food place together when they were sixteen. You laugh as Sam recounts the story of Bucky accidentally setting the fryer on fire during their second week on the job.

“I swear,” Sam says between bursts of laughter, “he tried to play it cool, but the man was freaking out. And don’t even get me started on how he tried to convince the manager it was faulty equipment.”

Bucky groans, pinching the bridge of his nose. “Okay, first of all, it was faulty. Second, you’re leaving out the part where you spilled an entire milkshake machine.”

Sam waves his hand dismissively. “Details. Besides, I wasn’t the one who got banned from ever touching the fryer again.”

You lean into Bucky, grinning. “So, no fry duty for you, huh?”

He shakes his head, his lips twitching into a reluctant smile. “Nope. I was stuck flipping burgers for the rest of the summer. Sam, on the other hand, got promoted to register duty because the manager thought he was charming.”

“Charming is one way to put it,” you shoot Sam a playful look.

“Hey, don’t hate the player,” Sam quips, raising his beer in a mock toast.

As the drinks continue and more stories are shared, Sam leans forward, his gaze flicking between you and Bucky again. “So, when are you two gonna stop pretending this is just casual?”

Bucky chokes slightly on his drink, shooting Sam a glare. “Wilson—”

“What?” Sam says innocently, though his smirk betrays him. “I’m just saying. You’ve got this whole broody, mysterious thing going on, and she clearly doesn’t scare easily. It’s a match made in Brooklyn.”

You’re about to say something to deflect Sam’s relentless teasing when the door to the bar opens. Out of the corner of your eye, you notice the way Bucky’s demeanor shifts. His posture stiffens, the easy smile he’s been wearing vanishes and his jaw tightens.

“Uh-oh,” Sam mutters, his expression sobering as he follows Bucky’s line of sight.

“What?” you question, glancing between them.

Sam leans in, lowering his voice. “Looks like trouble just walked in.”

You turn toward the door, your eyes landing on a woman weaving her way through the bar. She’s striking, the kind of person who turns heads without even trying. Her confidence is palpable, but there’s something sharp about her presence, something that instantly feels out of place in the warm, easygoing atmosphere of the bar.

The moment she spots Bucky, her lips curve into a smirk and she heads straight for your table.

Sam mutters under his breath, “Here we go.”

Bucky doesn’t move—he just watches her approach, his face unreadable, though you can feel the tension radiating off him.

“Bucky Barnes,” she says when she reaches the table, her voice smooth but laced with something malicious. “Of all the places to run into you.”

Bucky’s grip tightens on his glass as he addresses her. “Natalie.”

Natalie tilts her head, her gaze sweeping over him before briefly flicking to you. Her eyes linger for a second before she looks back at Bucky. “Didn’t expect to see you here. What’s it been, a year? Two?”

“Closer to three,” Bucky’s voice is devoid of the warmth you’ve come to know.

“Right,” her smirk widens. “Time flies, doesn’t it?”

Sam clears his throat, drawing her attention. “Hey, Natalie. Long time no see.”

“Sam,” she acknowledges, though her focus quickly shifts back to Bucky. “You look good, Buck. Brooklyn’s still treating you well, I see.”

Bucky doesn’t respond. The tension is thick enough to cut and you feel like an intruder in a conversation you don’t understand.

Natalie crosses her arms, her tone turning softer but no less sharp. “I heard about your mom. I meant to reach out, but…” She trails off with a shrug that feels anything but sincere.

Bucky’s expression darkens and you notice the way his hand tightens into a fist at his side.

“Don’t,” he states, his voice low but firm.

Natalie raises an eyebrow, her smirk faltering for the first time. “Alright. Just thought I’d say hi.” She glances at you again, her smile colder this time. “Nice meeting you… whoever you are.”

Without getting to introduce yourself, she turns and walks away, her heels clicking against the floor as she disappears into the crowd.

The table is silent for a moment, the air stale from her presence. Sam is the first to speak. “Well, that was fun.”

Bucky sinks back into his seat, he rolls his shoulders back as if he’s trying to expel the tension, his gaze stays fixed on his drink.

You hesitate before leaning closer to him. “Are you okay?”

“I’m fine,” he answers but the clipped tone tells you otherwise.

Sam, trying to diffuse the awkwardness, offers a quiet out. “We don’t have to stay, you know.”

Bucky shakes his head, exhaling sharply. “No, I’m not letting her ruin the night. Let’s just… forget about it.”

Sam nods, though he still looks uneasy.

You don’t press further, but as the night wears on, you notice the way Bucky stays more withdrawn, his usual quietness taking on an edge of distraction.

Later, when the three of you step outside into the chilly night air, you fall into step beside him.

“Bucky,” you grab his arm gently. “If you want to talk about it… I’m here.”

He doesn’t respond right away, his gaze fixed ahead. But after a moment, he looks down at you, his eyes softer than they’ve been all night. “Thanks,” he murmurs, the single word carrying more weight than you expected.

After you say goodbye to Sam and promise a happier redo of your interrupted night another time, you continue walking. The streets are quieter as the night grows and the sounds from the bar fade. Suddenly, Bucky stops walking, looks around for a second before grabbing your hand in his. 

“I have another place I want to show you.” You don’t ask where–you trust him as he leads the way. 

Eventually, you reach a tucked-away rooftop garden atop an old industrial building. It’s quiet, peaceful, with fairy lights strung along the edges of the space and a breathtaking view of the city skyline. The East River glimmers below, reflecting the lights of Manhattan.

Bucky gestures toward a bench near the edge of the rooftop. “Figured you could use a breather after all that.”

You sit down, taking in the view. “This is beautiful.” 

Bucky leans against the railing, his gaze distant. “This place used to be more popular but now not many people know about this spot. It’s… kind of my escape.”

You watch him for a moment, noticing the tension in his jaw and the way his fingers tap restlessly against the railing. “Do you come here often?”

He nods. “Whenever it feels like the walls are closing in. It’s easier to think up here. Or not think at all.”

You tilt your head, studying him. “Were you thinking about her tonight? Natalie.”

His lips press into a thin line and for a moment you think he’s going to brush it off. But then he exhales, running a hand through his hair. “Yeah. She’s… a reminder of a lot of things I’d rather forget.”

He sits beside you on the bench, his gaze fixed on the skyline. “After my mom passed, I wasn’t in a good place. Natalie and I broke up right before it happened. She didn’t know how to handle it—hell, I didn’t either. But instead of trying to be there for me, she… bailed. Made me feel like I was too much. Like my grief was too heavy for her.”

Your heart aches, wondering how someone can have so little compassion. “That’s not your fault, Bucky. She wasn’t strong enough to be there for you, but that doesn’t mean you were too much.”

He glances at you, his blue eyes reflecting the city lights. “Maybe. But it still messed with me, you know? Made me wonder if it’s even worth letting people in.”

You sit quietly, letting his words settle between you. After a moment, you speak up, “I get it. It’s scary to open up, to risk getting hurt. But you don’t have to go through everything alone. You don’t deserve to carry all that by yourself.”

Bucky looks at you then, really looks at you. He leans in, his face inches from yours, his eyes flicking briefly to your lips. For a heartbeat, it feels like the world stops—like the city has gone silent, leaving just the two of you in this rooftop oasis.

But then, he pulls back abruptly, shaking his head. “I’m sorry,” he mutters, standing and turning away from you.

You blink, the moment shattered. “Bucky…”

“It’s not you,” he says quickly, his voice strained. “I just… I can’t.”

You stand, stepping closer but keeping enough distance to give him space. “It’s okay,” you say gently. “We don’t have to rush anything.”

He turns to you, the conflict in his face evident. “I don’t want to hurt you,” he admits, his voice barely above a whisper.

“You won’t,” you say simply, holding his gaze.

For a long moment, neither of you say anything. You sit back on the bench, and after a moment’s hesitation, he joins you again. The two of you sit in silence, the city stretching out before you, the skyline holding everything left unsaid.

You wake up early to the weight of the previous night pressing down on you, making you a little nervous to see Bucky. 

The memory of the bar, of Bucky pulling away, of the almost-kiss, plays over and over in your mind. After the rooftop, after the vulnerability, after feeling like you’d both connected in a way that felt real and intense... there's a disconnect now. A distance between you two that wasn't there before.

You sit up in bed, trying to shake the haze of sleep, your mind still replaying the conversation. The way Bucky opened up about his ex—just enough to let you see the cracks in his armor—and the way he’d pulled back, retreating into himself. You understand the walls he’s built around his heart, but it doesn’t make it any easier to accept.

You rub your eyes, standing up from the guest bed and walking out toward the kitchen. You can hear Bucky moving around in the next room as you walk down the hallway, the sound of water running in the bathroom.

When he emerges, he’s in his sweatpants, hair still tousled from sleep. He gives you a quiet nod but his eyes don’t quite meet yours. 

“Morning,” you greet tentatively, unsure how to break the awkward silence between you.

Bucky responds with a soft grunt, opening the fridge and pulling out a bottle of water. He doesn’t look at you as he takes a drink.

You take a deep breath, trying to steady your nerves. “About last night…” you begin, but you don’t know where to go from there. You want to reach out but you don’t want to push him away further.

Bucky finally turns to you, but his expression is guarded, his eyes distant. “I’m not ready for this. For whatever this is between us.”

Your stomach drops and you swallow hard, the words stinging more than you expected. “I know,” you whisper, your voice barely above a breath. “But I don’t understand why you pulled away. I thought we were getting closer.”

He clenches his jaw, looking torn. He paces slightly, running a hand through his hair in frustration. “I do want it. More than I’ve wanted anything in a long time. But I’m...I don’t know how to be that guy. Not after everything.”

The vulnerability in his voice makes your heart ache for him, but his words hurt just the same. You can feel him pulling away from you, emotionally. There’s an invisible wall that wasn’t there before.

“I know you’re scared, Bucky,” you say softly. “But I’m not asking you to be perfect. I just want you to be honest with me.”

He meets your gaze, his eyes filled with turmoil, but then they flicker down to the floor. He takes a deep breath, his chest rising and falling with the effort of holding himself together. “I don’t know how to let anyone in like that again,” he admits quietly. “Not after everything with Natalie. I let myself get hurt... and I don’t want to do that again.”

You move closer to him, cautiously but he takes a step back, shaking his head. The distance between you feels like an abyss now. “I get it,” you say, your voice trembling a little. “I do. But you don’t have to push me away. I’m not her, Bucky. And I’m not going anywhere.”

He finally meets your eyes again. “But you are,” he says, his voice barely a whisper. “You’re leaving next week.”

You reach out, your hand hovering near his, unsure if he’ll let you touch him. When he doesn’t pull away, you slowly place your hand on his arm. It’s a simple gesture, but it feels like a lifeline.

“I’m here, Bucky, right now.” you whisper, your eyes never leaving his. “I know it’s been hard. It’s hard for me too. After all these months and finally meeting in person, I’ve never felt this connected to someone before. Yes it’s scary and terrifying. We all have a past but why let that ruin what’s right in front of you?”

Bucky stands there for a long moment, his eyes searching yours, a battle raging inside him. You can see the conflict. Finally, he sighs, his shoulders slumping as he steps back and runs a hand through his hair. “I’m not sure I’m ready. I’m sorry.”

You nod, though your heart aches from the distance between you. “Okay,” you whisper. “I understand.”

The silence stretches as Bucky turns away to grab his jacket, you realize that despite all the progress you’ve made, there’s still so much he needs to heal from—so much that he hasn’t let go of yet. You want to be there for him, but you also wonder how much longer you can wait for him to come to terms with his past.

Bucky walks through the streets of Brooklyn, hands shoved deep into the pockets of his jacket, a pensive expression taking over his face. The city is alive around him—cars rushing by, people moving with purpose—but he feels detached from it all.

His thoughts are a tangled mess, looping endlessly between the past and the present. His mother’s face flickers in his mind, her warmth, her kindness. The way she always believed in him, even when he felt like he wasn’t worth believing in. Losing her had been the beginning of everything unraveling. And then there was Natalie—her presence had been a wildfire in his life, bright and consuming, but in the end, it had only left him burned.

And now, after three years of silence, she’s back.

Seeing her again last night rattled him more than he wanted to admit. The past always finds a way of creeping up when he least expects it and Natalie is living proof of that. He thought he had buried that part of his life, convinced himself he was better off alone.

But then there’s you—the one person who he let slip past all his defenses.

Seven months. That’s how long you’ve been in his life. And in those months, through nothing but words and carefully chosen gifts, you had found your way into the parts of himself he had sworn to keep locked away. Last night on the rooftop had been the closest he’d come to letting someone in again. The way you looked at him, the way your hand had hovered over his, waiting for him to decide—it terrified him. Because he wanted it. He wants you. And wanting someone meant opening himself up to be crushed all over again.

He wasn’t sure if he could survive that a second time.

The more he walks, the more suffocated he feels by the weight of his own emotions. So he does his usual routine when things get too heavy.

He runs from them and drowns himself in his sorrows.

Bucky slouches at the bar, the soft lighting casting shadows over his face. His fingers wrap around another glass of whiskey, the burn sliding down his throat. He’s lost count of how many he’s had, but the haze creeping into his mind tells him it’s been enough.

The alcohol numbs the storm raging inside of him, dulls the sharp edges of his thoughts. But it doesn’t erase them. He wishes it did.

The bartender eyes him warily, probably wondering if he should cut him off, but before anything can be said, a familiar voice cuts through the noise.

“Didn’t think I’d see you here again so soon.”

Bucky tenses. He knows that voice. 

Natalie.

He doesn’t turn right away, staring into his half-empty glass, as if he can will her away by ignoring her. But she doesn’t take the hint. She slides into the seat next to him, ordering herself a drink like she belongs there. Like no time has passed.

“You look like you’ve had a rough night,” she muses, stirring her drink with the tip of her straw. “Or is it a rough life?”

Bucky exhales sharply, finally turning to her. His vision is blurry, the whiskey having done its job. Natalie’s face is softer than he remembers, her dark eyes studying him like she can still read him as easily as she used to.

“What do you want?” His voice is rough, tired.

Natalie tilts her head, giving him that same playful smirk she used to. “Come on, Bucky. Can’t I just want to talk?”

He huffs out a laugh, shaking his head. “Since when have you ever just wanted to talk?”

She leans in closer, the scent of her perfume hitting him all at once. It’s the same scent from before—a ghost from a life he’s tried to forget. The alcohol makes his head swim.

She touches his arm, her fingers light and familiar. “You know, I’ve missed you.”

He doesn’t answer. Doesn’t move.

And then she’s kissing him.

At first, he barely registers it. His body feels heavy, his mind a fog. He doesn’t push her away. Maybe because he doesn’t have the strength to. Maybe because, for a second, it’s easier to give in than to keep fighting against everything crashing down inside his mind.

And then—

“Bucky?”

A voice. Your voice.

Bucky blinks, the world tilting slightly as he pulls back, his lips tingling from where Natalie’s had been. He looks up and sees you standing there, eyes wide, hurt etched into every part of your expression.

Beside you, Sam stands stiffly, his jaw tight with disappointment.

Shit.

Natalie smirks, sitting back like she just won something.

Bucky doesn’t know what to say. His mind is too fogged with whiskey, his body too slow to react. But he sees the way your face falls, the way you swallow hard, like you’re forcing yourself to keep it together.

“I was looking for you,” you say, your voice quieter now. “I thought—” You stop yourself, shaking your head. “Doesn’t matter.”

Sam steps in, exhaling sharply. “Come on, man. Let’s get you home before you make more of a mess of things.”

Bucky doesn’t resist when Sam grabs his arm, hauling him to his feet. His legs feel unsteady beneath him. He chances one more look at you, but you’ve already turned away, blinking rapidly like you’re trying not to cry.

And it hits him, then—he’s fucked up.

Getting Bucky back to his apartment is a quiet affair. He barely remembers the walk home, his mind swimming between the whiskey and the weight of what he’s done.

You don’t say a word. You don’t look at him.

Once inside, Sam guides him toward the couch, sighing as he helps him sit. “Sleep it off,” he mutters, clearly pissed. “And when you wake up, figure out what the hell you really want before you hurt her more than you already have.”

Bucky doesn’t answer. He just stares at the floor, stomach twisting with guilt.

You, on the other hand, disappear down the hall. You don’t check on him. You don’t ask if he’s okay. Instead, you close yourself off in the guest room, the sound of the door clicking shut feeling final.

Inside, you collapse onto the bed, burying your face into the pillow. The tears come before you can stop them, silent and hot against your skin.

This wasn’t how this trip was supposed to go.

You thought you were here to connect. To build something real. Romantic or not, you thought this was important. That you were important to him.

But tonight had shown you that no matter how much you wanted to be there for Bucky, you couldn’t let him hurt you in the process.

And as you cry yourself to sleep, you wonder if maybe... maybe this trip is already falling apart.

Bucky wakes up to a pounding headache, a dry mouth, and the unmistakable feeling that he’s done something really, really stupid. His memories from the night before are hazy, but flashes of the bar, the whiskey burning his throat, and then—Natalie. His stomach churns as he sits up in bed, trying to piece it together.

The apartment is silent. No sign of you.

Then he hears voices—Sam’s voice, low and firm, from the kitchen. Bucky rubs a hand over his face, bracing himself as he stumbles out of bed and into the hall.

Sam stands in the kitchen, arms crossed, looking unimpressed. “You look like hell,” he says.

Bucky groans, grabbing a bottle of water from the counter. “Thanks.”

“You remember what happened last night?” Sam asks, and his tone tells Bucky all he needs to know.

He swallows hard. “Not...everything.”

Sam scoffs. “Well, let me remind you. We found you at the bar—making out with Natalie.”

Bucky’s grip tightens around the bottle. His stomach drops. “Shit.”

“Yeah. Shit.” Sam shakes his head. “She saw, man. She saw everything.”

Bucky looks toward the closed guest room door, his chest tightening. “Where is she?”

“Locked herself in there after we got you home.” Sam sighs. “She was upset. Hurt. And I don’t blame her.”

Bucky looks away, shame settling deep in his bones. “I didn’t mean to…”

Sam raises an eyebrow. “Didn’t mean to what? Get drunk and let your ex suck you back in? You’re the one who keeps saying you’re not ready for anything, but that girl in there—she’s been trying. She’s been patient with you.” He shakes his head. “And you go and do this?”

Bucky stays quiet, guilt gnawing at him.

“You need to fix this,” Sam says simply before walking past him, leaving Bucky alone with his thoughts.

You wake up feeling hollow. Your eyes are heavy from the restless night, your body sluggish as you force yourself out of bed.

You face the day anyway, pulling yourself together as best you can. You quietly slip out of the guest room, careful not to make too much noise. The last thing you want is to run into Bucky. But as soon as you step into the living room, you freeze.

Bucky is already there, sitting on the couch with his head in his hands. The sight of him—his slumped shoulders—makes you feel sad for the way he is feeling, wanting to help him through it but you can’t shake off the sadness in your own body.

The moment he hears your footsteps, his head snaps up. His eyes meet yours, his blue eyes popping against the redness surrounding the beautiful irises. 

Your pulse stutters, but you force yourself to keep moving. You hastily grab your jacket and shoes, fingers fumbling more than they should.

Bucky stands up slowly, hesitant. “Can we talk?” His voice sounds rough from the after effects of the alcohol. 

You shake your head, keeping your gaze firmly on the floor. “Not right now.”

He exhales sharply, like he wants to fight it, wants to make you stay. But he doesn’t. He just nods and sinks back down onto the couch.

You don’t say another word as you step outside, the cool air hitting your face as you shut the door behind you.

You don’t know where you’re going, only that you need to walk. To breathe. To clear your head.

You make it a few blocks before the weight of everything threatens to crush you.

Without thinking, you pull out your phone and call the one person who will understand.

Wanda.

She picks up on the second ring. “Hey, you! How’s the city? Tell me everything—” Her voice is warm, excited, and it makes your chest tighten painfully.

“I—” Your voice breaks before you can even get the words out.

Instantly, her tone shifts. “What happened?”

You swallow hard, sitting down on a bench near a small café, gripping your phone like it’s a lifeline. “It’s Bucky,” you admit, your voice barely above a whisper.

Wanda’s quiet for a beat, then she sighs. “Okay. Tell me everything.”

So you do.

You tell her about the bar, about how Natalie showed up, about how Bucky disappeared afterward. About how you searched for him, only to find him tangled up with his ex in a dark corner of the bar. How Sam had to help you get him home. How you locked yourself in the guest room, crying yourself to sleep, feeling more lost than ever.

Wanda, who has been silent the entire time, finally speaks. “That absolute idiot.”

Despite everything, you let out a weak, watery laugh. “Yeah.”

“I mean, I knew he had some emotional walls up, but this?” Wanda scoffs. “That’s next-level self-sabotage. What the hell was he thinking?”

“He wasn’t,” you say quietly. “That’s the problem.”

Wanda sighs again, softer this time. “Are you okay?”

You close your eyes, leaning back against the bench. “I don’t know.”

“That’s fair,” she says gently. “But listen to me—you didn’t deserve that. You have been there for him for the past what, like seven months, and he just—he just threw it away.”

“I don’t think he meant to,” you murmur, feeling the need to defend him. “He’s just… scared.”

“Scared or not, he still hurt you,” Wanda says firmly. “And that’s not okay.”

You nod, even though she can’t see you. “I know.”

A pause. Then—“Do you want to come home?”

The question catches you off guard. Do you?

You swallow hard, considering it. You could leave now, book an early flight back to Oregon. Escape this mess before it gets any worse.

But then you think about Bucky. About the past seven months. About the way he looked at you last night, like he wanted to reach for you but didn’t know how.

You shake your head. “No. Not yet.”

“Are you sure?” Wanda’s voice is laced with concern. “Because if you say the word, I’ll book you the next flight myself.”

You let out a small breath, touched by her unwavering support. “I just… I need to figure this out first.”

“Okay,” she says, though you can hear the hesitation in her voice. “But promise me one thing?”

“What?”

“If he keeps breaking your heart, don’t stick around to let him do it again.”

You close your eyes, nodding. “I promise.”

Bucky hates the silence between you. He hates the way you won’t meet his eyes—the way the air between you feels colder than it did when you were hundreds of miles apart.

For the first time in a long time, he realizes what real fear feels like. Not the fear of getting hurt, but the fear of losing someone who actually matters.

Natalie doesn’t matter like this.

You do.

And he’s afraid he’s already ruined it.

That night, after pacing the length of his apartment, after running through every possible thing he could say, Bucky finds himself in front of the guest room door. His hand hovers over the wood for what feels like an eternity before he forces himself to knock.

There’s a pause. A hesitation. Then, the door cracks open.

“Please,” he says, his voice barely above a whisper. “Just talk to me.”

You hesitate, your expression unreadable as you lean against the frame, arms crossed tightly over your chest. There’s no warmth in your posture, no hint of the connection you once shared so easily.

“What is there to talk about, Bucky?” Your voice is calm, but he can hear the hurt beneath it. And it kills him.

He sighs, running a hand through his hair. “I messed up.”

“Yeah,” you say, sharper than you intend. “You did.”

He exhales, the weight of your words settling deep in his chest. “I don’t have an excuse. I was drunk, I was an idiot, and I—I let my past mess with my head.” His voice falters. “But none of that changes the fact that I care about you.”

You flinch at his words, and he sees the way you tighten your grip around yourself, like you’re holding yourself together.

“Funny way of showing it.”

Bucky’s face falls, and you hate how much it hurts to see him like this—how much you still want to reach for him.

“You don’t trust yourself to let someone in,” you say quietly, forcing yourself to meet his eyes. “But do you really have to hurt me in the process?”

Bucky swallows hard. “No,” he says, his voice rough and ragged. “And I’m sorry. I’m so fucking sorry.”

You take a breath, trying to steady yourself, but your emotions are too raw. “I don’t know if that’s enough, Bucky.”

There’s a moment—a heartbeat—where it feels like he might reach for you. Like maybe he’ll finally step past his own fear and just try.

But he doesn’t.

And that tells you everything you need to know.

Your grip on the doorknob tightens. You take a step back.

Then, without another word, you close the door.

Leaving Bucky standing there, his past and his regrets pressing down on him like a weight he may never be able to lift.

And for the first time since you arrived in Brooklyn, you wonder if this whole thing was a mistake.

Thank you so much for reading <3 please reblog or comment below, I love hearing your thoughts and feedback!

part four

[atommadly]

𝐇𝐨𝐫𝐫𝐢𝐛𝐥𝐞 𝐏𝐢𝐜𝐤 𝐔𝐩 𝐋𝐢𝐧𝐞𝐬

Pairing: Harry Wells x Reader Warnings: Heavy pick up lines

𝘞𝘩𝘦𝘯 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘸𝘦𝘯𝘵 𝘭𝘰𝘰𝘬𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘧𝘰𝘳 𝘉𝘦𝘭𝘭𝘺 𝘉𝘶𝘳𝘨𝘦𝘳𝘴, 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘥𝘪𝘥𝘯'𝘵 𝘦𝘹𝘱𝘦𝘤𝘵 𝘵𝘰 𝘧𝘪𝘯𝘥 𝘢 𝘴𝘵𝘳𝘢𝘯𝘨𝘦𝘳 𝘣𝘰𝘮𝘣𝘢𝘳𝘥𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘸𝘪𝘵𝘩 𝘊𝘩𝘳𝘪𝘴𝘵𝘮𝘢𝘴 𝘱𝘪𝘤𝘬-𝘶𝘱 𝘭𝘪𝘯𝘦𝘴. 𝘓𝘶𝘤𝘬𝘪𝘭𝘺, 𝘏𝘢𝘳𝘳𝘺 𝘪𝘴 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘳𝘦 𝘵𝘰 𝘴𝘢𝘷𝘦 𝘺𝘰𝘶.

Masterlist

The car’s heater purred softly, filling the otherwise quiet interior with warmth as you mentally ticked off the items on your Belly Burger order. The streets of Central City were alive with holiday cheer—twinkling lights strung across shop windows, an occasional “Merry Christmas!” called out by bundled-up passersby, and the occasional carol from a street performer’s corner. It was beautiful, really, though the biting cold made you grateful for the heated seats.

Harry Wells sat in the driver’s seat, engrossed in whatever data he was analyzing on his tablet. His brow furrowed, a classic Harry expression, as he muttered something under his breath about algorithms.

"You sure you don’t want to come in?" you asked, glancing at him. "It’s not as bad as you think. People are happier around the holidays."

He didn’t even look up. "Happier doesn’t mean quieter, Y/N. I’d rather wait here and let you brave the chaos." Finally, he glanced over at you, smirking slightly. "Besides, you know what I like. I trust you with my order."

You rolled your eyes with a grin. "Yeah, yeah. God forbid I bring you a double cheeseburger instead of a triple."

Pulling on your coat and scarf, you stepped out into the cold. Snow crunched softly under your boots as you made your way toward the brightly lit Belly Burger. Before opening the door, you turned to give Harry a mock glare.

His smirk widened as he leaned back in his seat, pretending not to care.

Inside Belly Burger, the warm air hit you immediately, a sharp contrast to the chill outside. It smelled amazing—burgers sizzling on the grill, crispy fries fresh out of the fryer, and just the faintest hint of peppermint from the milkshake machine. Christmas decorations were everywhere: wreaths on the walls, garlands draped over the counters, and a twinkling Christmas tree by the door.

The place was packed. Families were squeezed into booths, friends laughed over milkshakes, and kids darted between tables in an impromptu game of tag. You made your way to the counter, squeezing past a group of teenagers debating their orders.

You gave your order to the cashier—a seasoned worker who didn’t even blink at the chaos—and stepped aside to wait. The festive energy of the restaurant was nice, but the crowd was a bit overwhelming. You shifted on your feet, glancing out the window to where Harry was parked. His silhouette was barely visible through the fogged-up glass, but you knew he was watching you.

"Hey there," a voice interrupted your thoughts.

You turned to see a tall man standing beside you, his smile a little too wide and his posture a little too casual. He was wearing a bright red sweater with a cartoon reindeer on it, complete with a tiny, blinking LED nose.

"Uh, hi," you said cautiously, offering a polite smile.

"I couldn’t help but notice you over here," he continued, leaning closer. "You’ve got this glow about you. It's like… there is no need for Christmas lights, you’re already shining so bright."

Your polite smile froze. Was he… serious?

"That’s sweet," you replied stiffly, taking a small step back.

The man didn’t seem to notice your discomfort. If anything, he looked encouraged. "It’s the season of giving, right? So maybe you should give me your number."

You sighed quietly, glancing toward the counter and willing your order to be ready.

"Listen," you started, trying to sound firm but not rude, "I’m just here to pick up some food—"

"Perfect!" he cut in with a grin. "We can eat together. What do you say?"

Outside, Harry had been watching the whole thing. He couldn’t hear what was being said, but your body language told him everything he needed to know. Your stiff posture, the way you glanced around like you were looking for an escape—it all made his chest tighten with annoyance.

Setting his tablet aside, Harry opened the car door and stepped into the cold.

The bell above the entrance jingled as Harry walked into Belly Burger, his long coat sweeping behind him. He spotted you instantly, still stuck in conversation with the persistent man.

"You know," the guy was saying, grinning like he’d just thought of the cleverest thing ever, "I must be a snowflake because I’ve fallen for you."

Harry’s jaw tightened.

He strode over, slipping into the space beside you with a confidence that made the man falter. Before you could say a word, Harry casually draped an arm around your shoulders, pulling you close.

"There you are, darling," he said smoothly, his deep voice cutting through the other man’s next attempt at a pick-up line. "I was wondering what was taking so long."

The man blinked, his confidence deflating like a balloon. "Oh, uh… I didn’t realize you were with someone."

Harry gave him a tight-lipped smile that didn’t reach his eyes. "She’s my wife," he said, the word rolling off his tongue with a practiced ease that made your heart skip. "And I’d appreciate it if you kept your terrible pick-up lines to yourself."

The man stammered, his face turning red. "I—I didn’t mean any harm."

"Of course not," Harry replied coolly. "But you’re done here. Aren’t you?"

Without another word, the man muttered something under his breath and shuffled away, disappearing into the crowd.

You let out a long breath, feeling the tension in your shoulders finally ease. "Thank you," you said, your voice soft. "He was…"

"Annoying," Harry finished for you, his arm still resting on your shoulders.

You glanced up at him, suddenly very aware of how close he was. His presence, usually so commanding, felt oddly comforting now.

"You didn’t have to do that," you said, though you were secretly relieved he had.

Harry tilted his head, giving you a pointed look. "Yes, I did. No one gets to make you uncomfortable like that."

Before you could respond, the cashier called out your order. You stepped forward to grab the bags, grateful for the excuse to escape Harry’s sharp eyes.

Back in the car, the two of you settled into a comfortable silence. The heater hummed softly, and the smell of freshly cooked burgers filled the air. You glanced at Harry out of the corner of your eye, wondering if you should say something about what had happened.

"So," you said finally, trying to sound casual, "my ‘husband,’ huh?"

Harry’s lips quirked into a faint smile, his eyes flicking toward you. "It got the job done."

"Yeah," you admitted, your cheeks still warm. "But you didn’t have to keep your arm there for so long."

He shrugged, his smirk widening. "Did it bother you?"

You hesitated, biting your lip. "No," you said quietly.

Harry’s smile softened, and he turned his attention back to the road. Outside, the city sparkled with holiday cheer, but inside the car, it was quiet, the air thick with something unspoken.

"Y/N," Harry said after a long moment, his voice softer than usual, "Merry Christmas."

You turned to him, a genuine smile spreading across your face. "Merry Christmas, Harry."

And as the car drove on through the snowy streets, you couldn’t help but wonder if maybe, just maybe, this Christmas had brought you a little closer to something more.

[demon-shark]

Percy got Lost Part 9

12-year-old Percy Jackson tries to leave Camp Half-blood before Mr. D decides whether or not to kill him. Only Percy gets so lost he ends up in a completely different universe where a man in green finds him.

Warning: Graphic Depictions of Violence

[previous] [next]

Everywhere they looked there were statues. Qingqiu could recognize some as monsters from legends he read during his time as a disciple, others he didn’t have a clue, but most of them were people. All were in different poses, different outfits, and with different expressions, but every last one of them was clearly made by a skilled sculptor. A sculptor who was capable of capturing even the tiniest of details. It was actually unnerving how life-like they looked, the itch to grab his sword getting worse. As they walked deeper into the dimly lit warehouse the smell of what had been called food got stronger. Whatever it was it had to be meat based. When Qingqiu looked down at Percy he could tell that his head was completely gone, consumed by his hunger. 

Grover was the only preteen not taken up by the promise of food, his nervous whimpers clear as day in the echoey warehouse. They eventually found a counter with grills, two strange machines, and a clear box with shaped and salted bread hanging inside behind it. In front the counter were a couple iron tables with backless chairs attached to them. As Qingqiu continued to observe this strange room, Aunty Em entered, “Please, sit down,”. Percy didn’t hesitate, a quick, “awesome,” leaving his lips as he ran over to the counter. Grover then reluctantly spoke up, “Um, we don’t have any money, ma’am.” Aunty Em simply looked down at him as she said, “No, no, children. No money. This is a special case, yes? It is my treat.” Qingqiu squinted his eyes in suspicion at that, nothing in life is ever free. 

Annabeth looked up at her and gave a polite “Thank you, ma’am,” which caused Aunty Em to stiffen. She quickly relaxes again and says, “Quite alright, Annabeth. You have such beautiful gray eyes, child,” unknowingly sealing her fate as Qingqiu knew for a fact that, in a rather smart move by the children, no one had given her their names. As he looked over at the hungry kids in his care though he decided to bide his time until after they had eaten. He watched Aunty Em prepare the food carefully, keeping an eye out for anything that might be poisonous. When she carried the food out however he was unable to act as poison tester before Percy started to wolf it down like he had been starved, nearly forgetting to breathe in the process. 

It was when Aunty Em passed behind him however that Qingqiu heard it, the hissing of snakes. He wasn’t the only one either as Grover perked up next to him, “What’s that hissing sound?” Annabeth and Percy however only gave him a look of confusion as Aunty Em asked, “Hissing?” She then gave a slight perk as if coming up with something before saying, “Perhaps you hear the deep-fryer oil. You have keen ears, Grover.” She’s lying. Qingqiu’s hand twitched for his blade, to question the woman about what she was and how she knew their names. To cover up his own non-human status Grover said, “I take vitamins. For my ears.” Qingqiu could hear the fake smile the woman put on as she said, “That’s admirable. But please, relax.” The cultivator couldn’t help but roll his eyes, that was no longer possible with the monster before him and the eyes at his back. 

It wasn’t helped when Aunty Em sat at the other end of the table from him, her fingers laced together as she watched them eat. As a silence fell upon the group and the children ate themselves into being tired, Percy tried to start up small talk, “So, you sell gnomes.” The woman slowly turned to Percy, something that nearly caused Qingqiu to lash out though he wasn’t certain why, “Oh, yes. And animals. And people. Anything for the garden. Custom orders. Statuary is very popular, you know,”. Something about the way she talked about her work set him off, Qingqiu stepping in to remove her gaze from Percy, “You must be rather skilled. Would it be possible for me to see you in action?” The woman twitched ever so slightly, “I’m afraid I prefer to keep it private. Can’t have rivals learning my secrets, now.” Qingqiu’s eyes sharpened, his fan brought up to his face, slowly fanning him, purely out of habit as pushed, “I doubt anyone would be able to capture such skill by watching.” The woman became strained as she said, “You’d be surprised.” 

Sensing the rising tension, Annabeth shook Percy who was about to fall asleep in his seat, “Maybe we should go. I mean, the ringmaster will be waiting”. The action unfortunately got the attention of Aunty Em, “Such beautiful gray eyes. You know, I used to know a woman with such eyes. A bad woman. My, yes, it has been a long time since I’ve seen gray eyes like those.” As she said that, Annabeth’s face dropped and urgency seemed to fill her. She stood up suddenly, dragging a startled Percy along. “We really should go.” Grover quickly stood up as well, but as Qingqiu stared at Percy he noticed something was off. He shouldn’t have let them eat the food. “Please, dears, I so rarely get guests. Before you go, won’t you at least sit for a pose?” The woman pleaded, causing Annabeth to raise an eyebrow, “A pose?” 

“A photograph. I will use it to model a new statue set. Children are so popular you see. Everyone loves children.” Annabeth shifted awkwardly as she tried to politely decline only for Percy to disagree, “It’s just a photo, Annabeth. What’s the harm?” The woman then purred, “Yes, Annabeth, no harm.” Qingqiu then put an end to it, “I’m afraid we have wasted too much time already.” When Percy looked to disagree with him, he gave a sharp look causing the boy to shut his mouth. “That is a shame. Afterall, the faces are the hardest part.” The woman then reached for her face covering, removing it as Annabeth yelled, “Look away from her!” Not trusting Percy to understand in his hypnotized state, Qingqiu blocked the boy’s view, tucking him away as he shut his own eyes. He could hear Annabeth pulling out her hat and putting it on as Grover scurried away blindly running into things as he yelled, “Run!”. 

Grover clicked his heels, which suspiciously sounded like hooves, as he yelled, “Maia!”. Flapping sounds filled the air and Qingqiu could only assume he was in the air as he could no longer hear his footsteps. With his eyes closed and Percy tucked into him, Qingqiu drew Xiu Ya, having to trust his other senses to defeat whatever Aunty Em was. “Such a pity to destroy a handsome young face. Stay with me, Percy. All you have to do is look.” He could feel Percy stiffen beside him causing him to hold the boy tighter to make sure he couldn’t. “The Gray-Eyed One did this to me, Percy. Annabeth’s mother, the cursed Athena, turned me from a beautiful woman into this.” It was then Annabeth’s voice echoed through the warehouse, “Don’t listen to her!” The woman snarled, “Silence!” But as quickly as it had turned monstrous the woman’s voice returned to a comforting purr, “You see why I must destroy the girl, Percy. She is my enemy’s daughter. I shall crush her statue to dust. But you, dear Percy, you need not suffer.” 

Percy gave out a shaky, “No,” clearly trying to fight off the monster’s hypnosis. Qingqiu listened as the woman slowly approached, waiting for her to get into striking range. He couldn’t afford to miss. “Do you really want to help the gods? Do you understand what awaits you on this foolish quest? Do not be a pawn of the Olympians, my dear. You would be better off a statue. Less pain. Less pain.” It was then he heard it, hissing. Qingqiu took a single step forward and in a fluid motion cut off her head. He was about to open his eyes when Annabeth yelled, “Wait! We need to cover her head!” Qingqiu cursed at that; whatever this woman was, she was clearly dangerous if her ability lasted after death. He heard some rustling and was eventually given the all clear from Annabeth.

 “Man, I wish we found you sooner,” Grover grinned as he looked at Qingqiu. Annabeth gave an affirming nod as she adjusted the monster’s head, now safely tucked away in the black cloth she had worn in life. Qingqiu felt strange, good, but strange. People usually hated his presence, especially kids. But here he was with three kids who were happy he was here, happy that he was the one protecting them. He could only hope that their opinions wouldn’t change. Annabeth then turned to Percy, her voice trembling as she asked, “Are you okay?” Percy breathed for a moment before answering, “Yeah.” He then focused on the head tucked under her arm, “Why didn’t… why didn’t the head evaporate?”. Qingqiu focused on the head as well, his thoughts returning to the furies. Monsters were supposed to turn to golden dust here, but the head remained. “Once you sever it, it becomes spoils of war. Same as the minotaur horn you’ve been carrying. But don’t unwrap the head, it can still petrify you.” After she said that Qingqiu sheathed his sword. 

Spoils of war… What a dark thought.

[cult-of-husbandos]

toji fushiguro [☯︎] - Himo Romance

synopsis: toji fushiguro takes you on a romantic date to the most fanciest place on earth.

genre: hella crack, angst(?), fluff(?)

word count: 4.9k

warnings: cursing, if you care

The scent of incense lingered in the air, mingling with the warmth of the setting sun as you waited in your small Tokyo apartment. It was a modest space, cluttered with polaroid pics and random shit from either thrift stores or shady internet dealers. Why spend $90 on an air fryer when NutCrusher2378 will sell you one for the low, low price of one feet pic?

Inhale. Exhale.

You once read an article that stated that meditation can decrease stress, pressure, and homicidal tendencies within a person. You glanced at the clock for what felt like the hundredth time, your patience waning as the minutes ticked by. Clearly, fifteen Blood Dragon Mango Orange and sitting in silence for 30 minutes wasn’t doing much for the overbearing burden that is your life. Now, why would a well-balanced person with their own apartment, car, and a source of income need to destress. Despite what your parents tell you every text, call, and holiday you were actually doing very good for yourself. So, why do you have the urge to burn down your apartment building and start smashing every building within a 25 mile radius?

One man.

One incredulous hot as fuck piece of shit man.

Toji Fushiguro, the enigmatic man who had become an unpredictable fixture in your life. You are currently dating a sorcerer that can’t even afford getting a Twix from a vending machine. To be honest, you wouldn’t even really call what you two have a ‘relationship’. Your so-called relationship was nothing more than a precarious balance of convenience, a twisted dance of give and take where you supplied the resources and he… well, he took. The more appropriate name for this would be a ‘situationship’. You cringe any time you or your friends bring up your relationship with him. Like a gross, oozing pimple on prom night, you just want to cover it up and pretend it doesn’t exist. Except the gross, oozing pimple is a 6’1, 190 lbs., lazy, overconfident, sex machine that kills and bums money from everyone just to bet it on a horse named ‘Lucky McCock’ because “with a name like that, he fucks the competition”.

The sound of keys jingling outside your door broke the concentrated silence, and you inadvertently flinched and felt your heart sink as Toji’s unmistakable footsteps echoed through the hallway. Without so much as a warning, he barged into your apartment, his devil-may-care grin lighting up his face. Why in the name of Kwon Ji-yong did you ever think giving him a key would be a good idea?!

“Hey there, sweetheart,” he greeted casually, tossing his dirty musty jacket that you bought for him onto the couch. “Miss me?”

You rolled your eyes, the familiar blend of annoyance and resignation settling over you like a thick, suffocating fog. “You were only gone for three weeks this time. Hardly long enough to miss you.”

Toji shrugged nonchalantly, his gaze wandering around the room before landing on the half-empty bag of potato chips on your coffee table. “Hungry,” he declared, making a beeline for the kitchen without waiting for your response.

You sighed inwardly, resigning yourself to yet another evening of Toji’s impromptu visits. As he raided your fridge with the same energy as an ungrateful college student that drops off his laundry and eats your food, you couldn’t help but wonder why you continued to tolerate his antics. Perhaps it’s his gorgeous face that even when nothing but bullshit and snarky remarks come out of it makes you want to sit on it. Or it’s his amazing daddy body that can go round after round with you, but can’t be bothered to move two feet to pick up the remote. Or maybe you have an undiscovered broke as fuck boyfriend kink that makes you dummy stupid.

“Why does it smell like a bunch of temple bastards took a shit in your living room?”

Or maybe, just maybe, you died long ago and this is your eternal hell.

*****

The weeks passed in a blur of half-hearted promises and fleeting moments of intimacy. Toji’s presence in your life remained as unpredictable as ever, his disappearances becoming a twisted routine that you had grown all too accustomed to.

‘Are we even dating?’

A thought suddenly popped into your head. You felt as if your stomach had hit the brakes hard after going over 90 on the interstate. What was really the point of this relationship? Well, it’s not like you both don’t get anything out of it. You both get amazing, mind-blowing sex and he gets a place to crash, food to eat, and money to spend on whatever dumb shit he likes.

…

You know, after laying it down like that, there’s obviously a clear winner that benefits from this in the long run.

However, just when you thought you had reached your breaking point, Toji dropped a bombshell that caught you completely off guard.

“I’m taking you out,” he announced one evening, his expression unusually earnest as he met your gaze. “A fancy date, with all that romantic shit you always bitch about.”

You quirked your eyebrow skeptically, crossing your arms over your chest. “The words ‘fancy’ and ‘romantic’ don’t fit your vocabulary. Your idea of fancy is wearing a button up shirt and your idea of romance is wearing a condom and buying flavored lube.” You sighed as he laughed obnoxiously. “What fancy place do you even know? Aren’t you, like, banned from almost every restaurant, café, dive bar, and soup kitchen within 50 miles of here?”

Toji grinned mischievously, a spark of excitement hinting in his eyes. “It’s a surprise,” he teased, his lips curling into a smirk. “But trust me, you’re gonna love it.”

You honestly doubt that. You know better than to get your hopes high when it comes to Toji’s promises. He either doesn’t deliver or doesn’t show up. Either way, you end up looking like a dumb bitch at the end of the day in your friend’s group chat. Yet, for some unknown reason, you found yourself getting excited.

*****

“Why do I have to be blindfolded for this?” you groaned as Toji guided you throughout the crowded sidewalk. The city buzzed with life around you, its neon lights casting an otherworldly glow as you navigate your way through the labyrinth of alleyways and side streets. You felt the slight breeze of people walking past you and felt the questioning gazes burn into you.

“Wouldn’t be a surprise if you could see where we were going, would it?” he whispered into your ear. “We’re almost there anyway…”

You felt anxiety and interest build in the pit of your stomach, your curiosity piqued as you drew closer to your destination. What sort of extravagant affair had Toji planned for you that you need a blindfold to go there? An underground Michelin-starred restaurant? A moonlit stroll along the riverbanks? An eyes-wide shut party?

As Toji finally came to a stop, you felt your stomach drop and heart race as he reached up to remove the blindfold from your eyes, his lips curling into a triumphant grin.

“Voila!” he exclaimed, gesturing grandly at the dimly lit building in front of you.

Your eyes widened in disbelief as you took in the scene before you. You both stood outside a familiar chain restaurant, its red gaudy mascot sign illuminated in garishly bright white letters against the night sky.

Red Lobster.

You blinked in confusion, struggling to process the sheer absurdity of what was happening.

“Red… Lobster?” you echoed incredulously, your voice laced with disbelief.

Toji shrugged nonchalantly, his grin widening into a boyish smirk. “Told ya it was fancy as shit.”

…

“WHAAAAAAAAATTT?!!!”

*****

Words could not describe the unbridled rage you were feeling right now. You could power a small village for 5 years with the amount of fury emanating from you. You sat slumped in the booth with a furious scowl stuck on your face as you stared fiercely at the lying moron currently stuffing his face with Cheddar Bay Biscuits. After gulping down three of the biscuits, he finally looks up at you.

“‘s matter with you?”

“You know damn well what’s the matter with me, Toji.” you seethed.

A few seconds of silence passed as he gulped down the rest of the biscuits. His face remained stoic as he looked you in the eyes.

“You gotta take a shit or somethin’?”

You slammed your fists against the table, sitting up straight and leaning over the table, the jarring sound of the utensils and cups on the table shook people from their conversations and turned their attention towards your table. You could care less what those slack jawed NPCs thought of you. Your attention was focused solely on your smug ass boyfriend.

“Toji,” you breathed harshly, “what the fuck am I wearing right now?”

“Huuh?”

“What the fuck do I have on right now? What kind of clothes do I have on?” You were shaking at this point.

Toji grinned at you smugly. “Whatever it is, it’s hot as fuck.”

“Of course it’s hot as fuck, Toji. And you wanna know why I’m wearing this hot as fuck outfit in this building of impending salmonella poisoning? Because you told me that we were going to a fancy and romantic place. Where people, oh I don’t know, don’t need to take a Pepto Bismol before and after dinner, where waiters speak in a posh accent but you know deep down that they only make 12 dollars an hour, where the food is served relatively fresh and not sitting in a deep-freeze for half year and warmed in a fucking microwave! But no! Here I am, looking like a 100 out of 10 sitting in a stained red booth, at a sticky table, sitting across from a man who looks like I just dragged a homeless man off the street just so I don’t look like a desperate loser coming into a fucking Red Lobster by myself!”

You ended your rant, panting and dropped back into your booth and cradled your head in your arms on the table. You knew this would happen. You just knew it! Leave it to a man with no concept of child support or how a garbage disposal works to take you anywhere relatively nice. The soft chattering and murmurs of the other patrons around you continued on, but you could feel eyes on you specifically. You groaned, not even bothering to raise your head.

“Jesus Christ… you couldn’t even pick a fucking Papadeux? Fucking Red Lobster…”

“Hey, don’t knock it till you try it,” he quipped, his mouth full of Cheddar Bay Biscuits.

“I have tried it, Toji. Everyone and their great-grandmother comes to fucking Red Lobster at least once for a birthday-anniversary-graduation-bullshit.”

“Well, it’s the thought that counts, right?”

“Toji, your “thought” doesn’t count for shit.”

You didn’t see it, but Toji flinched at your words. A pang of dejection flashed across his face, but just as you rose your head he turned his face back to stoic.

“Where’s the damn waiter?” he muttered, looking around. “AYO! Can we get some damn service?!” Toji loudly called, snapping his fingers.

Your eyes widened and you quickly grabbed his arm. “Oh my fucking… Toji!”

Before he could say anything, a nervous looking waiter walked up to your booth.

“Hello guys, my name is Tommy and I will be your waiter today. Can I get you guys started with anything?”

“Uh, yeah, lemme get a mufuckin’ uuuuhhhhhhhhh…” This went on for a full two minutes. “Lemme get the unlimited oysters.”

You quirked your eyebrow at Toji with a perplexed look as the waiter jotted down his order. “Really? The oysters?”

He lazily nodded.

“Are you sure you wanna lock that in, baby?”

He nodded again, looking disgruntled that you would question his choice of food.

“Like, 100%? Are you really, really sure that’s what you wanna get?”

Toji tilted his head at you. “You questioning me?”

You raised your eyebrows passively and opened your menu. “Alright…” you remark, “It’s your funeral…” You muttered the last part under your breath.

The waiter sensing the tension amongst you two, hurried along the order conversation. “And what would you like to drink?”

“All your drinks are boring, so nothing.” he answered in dismissal, tossing the menu at Tommy who barely managed to catch it.

“And what would you like to order?” He directed his attention towards you.

“I’ll have the grilled half lobster with lemon butter, a tomahawk steak, and a bottle of Gin, please.” you answered, handing the menu to him.

“A-A bottle…?” Tommy the waiter stuttered. “We can mix it into a drink if you preferred–”

“I said what I said.” You looked at the basket on the table. “And can we get some more cheddar biscuits please?”

Tommy nodded with a bow. “Of course. I’ll be back with your drinks and some more biscuits for the table.” And with that, he scurried off.

Toji threw you a smug grin and whistled cheekily. “Wooow, babe. I didn’t know I was dining with royalty.” he chastised and you groaned. “Don’t expect me to pay for your share.”

“Pssh. Please Toji. With what money? It’s so obvious that I’m paying for this meal.”

“Wait, really?”

“Duh, Toji! Of course I’m paying for it! It’s practically routine at this point.” You groan out, annoyed and rolling your eyes. “It’s the main thing you use me for anyway…”

The air is immediately coated in awkward tension between the two of you. It’s not like you said anything wrong. This is Toji Fushiguro you’re talking about. The man only wants three things out of life: sex, money, and to sail through life never paying for anything. You fiddled with your fingernails to fill the dead air when you heard Toji smack his lips at you.

“Can’t you go one fucking second without bitchin’ at me for something so worthless?” he muttered. “What the hell’s wrong Red Lobster? Red Lobster is the epitome of sophistication. The ambiance, the seafood… it's all about setting the mood, babe.”

“Sophistication?” You scoff and look your boyfriend dead in his eyes. “Toji… you eat at fucking Burger King.”

“What the fuck’s wrong with Burger King?!”

“Oh! Hmm! Let’s see! Lemme think! Ummm! Ummm! How about, fucking everything Toji!”

“Do NOT disrespect the King!” Toji's smile faltered slightly, a hint of defensiveness creeping into his tone.

“The King is dead, Toji! Deeeaaad! He OD’d 25 years ago just like everyone else who eats at Burger King!” you shout, no longer caring about raising your voice. “People only eat Burger King because they have to! Never because they want to! Because if that were the case, then everyone would go to McDonald’s! Their food is leagues better!”

“Their Whoppers are a culinary masterpiece.” he seethed at you.

You snort. “Oh yes! You’re so right, Toji. Mm-mm! Yummy! Because nothing turns my appetite on more than a soggy burger and a 72% chance of food poisoning! Or you could just spend the extra dollar and get a Big Mac like the rest of society! And chicken nuggets with actual chicken!”

It was now Toji’s turn to scoff. “You just don’t understand the peak gourmet culinary complexities that is Burger King.”

“I would rather lick the inside of a Taco Bell bathroom toilet than eat a single chicken fry from Burger King. At least with the Taco Bell toilet there’d be remnants of edible food! It’s bottom tier, Toji. Where else in the world do you get “buffalo nuggets” for $3?! And why would you pay for that?! 10 piece chicken nuggets for $2?! What’re you, suicidal?!”

“It’s cheap and delicious!”

“It’s rat meat and smells like something threw up in a deep fryer and you fucking know it! It’s right there next to Arby’s.”

“Oh! So, now you’re dissing Arby’s?!”

“You bet your beautiful chiseled ass I’m dissing fucking Arby’s!”

“And what’s fucking wrong with Arby’s, huh?!”

“It’s rat food, Toji! It’s all rat food!”

“What the hell are you talking about?!”

“Have you ever been inside an Arby’s, Toji? Hmm? The people that eat there are either tasteless morons that think Jack in the Box is ‘too expensive’ or using the spot waiting for their Fentanyl dealer. It’s just like Burger King. You only go there because you have to, not because you want to.”

Toji leaned in, eyes dark. “You wouldn’t know good food if it came up to your doorstep with roses, wiped its feet off at the door, and fucked your throat.”

“Oh, is that right?!”

“Um! Excuse me…” a meek voice spoke up. You both whipped your heads to see your waiter trembling with a bottle of Gin and basket of cheddar biscuits in his hands. You both leaned back in your seats as he hurriedly placed drink and food on the table. “Your food will be here shortly…” Before he could dash off, you grabbed him by the sleeve.

“Hold on there, Tommy. Settle something for us, would’ja?”

“Oh, please don’t incorporate me in whatever this is–”

“Arby’s, Burger King, or McDonald’s? Which one would you eat?”

Tommy stood in silence for a few seconds before whispering a tiny scared “what?”

“The fuck you asking him for?!”

“Because unlike you, he has a job and doesn’t live off of gambling tickets and random women to buy his meals! Now Tommy, choose!”

“U-U-Ummm… well, considering I’ve gotten food poisoning from all three restaurants, I’d still choose McDonald’s any day…”

“What?!”

You smirk at Toji victoriously. “Thank you, Tommy. You just earned yourself a 80% tip.”

And with that, Tommy scurried off again.

“God! You can never just be fucking grateful for anything, huh?! You just have to whine and nag and complain about everything in that pissy little condensating tone of yours!”

“Tell me, Toji. What should I be grateful for? Hm? Sh-Should I be grateful that you put in the bare minimum for a date or that you even remember my name at all?”

“…”

“Should I be grateful that you even came back to me at all and not dead somewhere, shanked and killed in the street, like an overlooked hooker that the cops don’t give a shit about?”

Toji remained silent.

“You know what, Toji. You’re right. I should be grateful. I’ll be grateful knowing that when this dinner ends I can go back home and not have to deal with you for another 4 months. Maybe around that time you’ll find someone else to be a wallet for you.”

You reached into your bag and pulled out your phone, ending the conversation dead in the water. Again, you missed the pain in Toji’s eyes as he furrowed his eyebrows and slowly continued chewing. Not too long after, Tommy came back with your food. Staring down at the shiny, plastic-looking food before you, you grimace. The overpowering smell of the oysters churned your stomach and waned your appetite with each passing second. Pushing past your mixture of disgust and resignation, you begin to eat your food.

This dinner is the definition of ‘absolutely donkey dicks’. You couldn’t even consider the food you were eating as actual “food”. Plastic toy food from a child’s playset looks and smells more appetizing. The only thing that you can swallow without gagging is the bottle of Gin which is slowly asking for a refill. You sighed as you looked up from your plate and saw Toji slurping down oyster after oyster. You pushed the food around your plate with little enthusiasm.

Toji attempted to start a conversation multiple times, but his efforts fell flat in the suffocating silence that hung between you two.

Toji cleared his throat in an attempt to once again start a conversation causing you to look at him downcast. “So, uh, how’s the food?” he asked tentatively, his voice tinged with unfamiliar uncertainty.

You glanced up at him with a weary sigh, your disappointment written plainly across your face. “The lobster tastes like those bouncy balls you get from quarter machines drenched in garlic and butter and the steak is both ice cold and boiling lava hot.” You look back at your food. “How’s your oysters? Good?”

“Delectable. Like slurping down The God of Lust and War’s plump pearls.”

“Ugh…”

The silence stretched on between you two, the weight of your unspoken frustrations hanging heavy in the air. Toji let out a heavy sigh bringing your attention back to him.

“Look, uh… Y/N…” Toji started fidgeting. “I know this date is total shit. Worse than shit probably. Nobody likes fucking Red Lobster. Being in this place makes me want to set fire to the building trapping all these wrinkly white-haired fucks and servant dicks to burn. Agonizingly. But I would save you! And the Cheddar Bay Biscuits fuuuck that shit is amazing!”

You raised your eyebrow, but let him continue.

“You were right. I am… banned from most places. Fuck, I mean did you know that I was banned from Chili’s AND Applebee’s? Like, why the fuck would I even be in those shitholes?”

“That… probably has something to do with you setting fire to their parking lot and spray painting ‘FUCK YOUR TAXES’ on their windows respectively at multiple locations.”

“Oh yeeahh… damn. That was a great Halloween.”

“Yeah… it was interesting… watching you eat an entire 5-pound chocolate peep marshmallow and utterly lose your mind in what I can only describe as a hellish sugar rush.”

“Whatever. The point is… I… I really tried, y’know?” he grumbled, rubbing the back of his head. “I said a lot of shit and promised a whole fucking thing, but in reality… this is all I can do… Like, legally or whatever…”

You stared at Toji in somewhat disbelief. You were witnessing something striking and shocking. Were you actually seeing Toji being… remorseful? The Toji Fushiguro?

“So… not to be all… stupid and pathetic… but… y’know… I’m…”

“You’re?”

“I’m… thmrrry…”

“You’re what?” You leaned in.

“Mm mpfrrf!”

“Toji, I can’t understand you. Get your hand away from your mouth.”

“I’m sorry!” he shouted. “There. I said it.”

Your eyes widen in surprise. You bit the inside of your cheek just to make sure you weren’t dreaming. “Woah, Toji…” you mutter, stunned. “I didn’t think those words were capable of forming. I always thought that if you even tried saying it you’d vomit up blood and your intestines would explode.”

“Fucking… whatever, okay! Don’t make a big deal outta it. I only said it ‘cuz I wanted to…!” He was blushing and fidgeting more. “But that’s not all.”

Toji reached into his sweatpants pocket and pulled out a small velvet black box, his expression awkward and face slightly red as he pushed it across the table to you.

"I,… uh…, got you something," he grumbled, his cheeks flushing with embarrassment and avoiding meeting your eyes. “Just— don’t make a big deal over it…”

You raised an eyebrow in confusion. Your skepticism warring at the unfamiliar genuine tone shift as you opened the box. You gasped softly. Inside the box, a beautiful arctic blue shone brighter than all the dim lights in the restaurant. You looked at Toji then back at the necklace. You were honestly speechless and your heart immediately softened into soft serve ice cream.

“Happy anniversary…” he muttered just loud enough for you to hear.

“Toji, this is…” you began, at a loss for words as you struggled to adjust to the sweet gesture that was foreign to Toji’s entire personality. “This is the sweetest and most beautiful thing you’ve ever done. Thank you, Toji.”

Toji softly frowned bashfully, scratching the back of his head in embarrassment. “Good,” he stated firmly. “But, uh… just don’t wear it outside. It’s stolen.”

“Stolen?” you echoed.

“Yeah. An old buddy owed me a favor after getting rid of a few… pests for him. He said I could take anything as compensation so I took The Tears of Benzaiten. I was gonna pawn it, but then I thought of you and… shit y’know…” he trailed off, the blush growing on his face. “Then a few days later, he put a bounty on it and got all fucking weird about it. So, just… don’t wear it anywhere, got it? I like your face and I wouldn’t want a bunch of scars and bruises ruining it.”

“Toji. Are you seriously telling me that I’m holding a Japanese national treasure with a big enough bounty that I could be killed just for holding it and you are just giving it to me in a Red Lobster for our anniversary?”

Toji shrugged nonchalantly. “Y/N, you’re much more beautiful than some stupid necklace made from the tears of Goddess worth 90 billion Yen. And you know that if anyone came within 20 feet of you, I’d rip out their esophagus and crumple their pathetic human bodies into nothing.”

You sat in stunned silence trying to process all the information that was just thrown on you. You looked down at the necklace. Suddenly, you started to giggle. Then, your giggles turned to laughter. You put your head down as your laughter grew louder and louder. After a few moments and murmurs from other patrons later, you raised your head and leaned your cheek against your hand.

“Toji Fushiguro, you’re so…” You tried to find the words to describe the absurdity happening right now. “Impossible.” you remarked fondly, a smile tugging at your lips. “But I love you for it.”

Toji smirked proudly.

“But, I hate to break it to you baby… today’s not our anniversary.”

Toji's smirk immediately diminished. “What?! Yeah, it is!”

You shook your head, still smiling. “Afraid not, baby. You see… we don’t have an anniversary.”

“Yeah we do! We had our first date and everything!”

“We met at the track, went to a bar, and then had sex. Then, you disappeared for a week then you came back and we had make up sex. Other than that, you’ve been gone for about 75% of this relationship. This is technically the only date we’ve been on that didn’t end with me getting drunk and us having loud sex in the bathroom.”

“So… it’s not our anniversary?”

You shook your head again.

“FUCK!” Toji shouted, slamming his hand on the table with a loud crash and groaning into the booth.

You slightly giggled and put the necklace in your bag. You gently grabbed Toji’s hand and he flinched slightly at your sudden touch.

“If this were our anniversary, it would be the best anniversary ever.” You kissed his hand and stood up, looking down at his flushed face. “Come on.” you gestured, throwing some money with a big tip as promised on the table. “Let’s go home.”

Toji smiled and took your hand as you both left the restaurant, much to the other patrons' relief. As you both made your way back to the apartment, you had a small flicker of hope. For the future. For the relationship. For Toji.

It started out as a really shitty date, but turns out, deep down, Toji can be romantic. In his own way, of course.

When you both entered the apartment, Toji grabbed your hips and kissed you deeply. You melted into arms and moaned into the kiss. He pulled away with a smirk.

“You taste like garlic butter Gin.”

“And you taste like oysters.”

You stepped away from him and walked towards the living room.

“And where the hell are you going?” Toji asked, following close behind.

“Well, we’ve had makeup sex, angry sex, drunk sex, bathroom sex, and Scandinavian Yeti sex. But I don’t think we’ve had “anniversary” sex yet.”

Toji grinned smugly as he rushed you and threw you over his shoulder. “Fuck yeah! I’m not gonna let ya sleep tonight!” Toji roared, giving your ass a smack. You let out a gasp and laugh.

You hated this man sometimes, but you couldn’t deny the amount of love you had for him too.

This truly was the best anniversary ever.

~Omake~

“Urrreeegh…! Urg… fuck…”

“I told you not to eat those oysters, baby.” you soothed, rubbing Toji back gently.

Halfway through sexy time, Toji jumped off of you and started to feel the horrible after effects of Red Lobster oysters. You cringed as Toji continued to retch, groan, and spit all of his dinner in the toilet bowl.

“I’ll kill those bastards…! I’ll slit their throats and dance on their backs! I’ll get those– ugh! Oh god… bleerghh!”

You sigh and smile softly at his very real threats. You stepped out of the bathroom and put on some clothes.

“Where you goin’! We’re not… urgh… done yet!”

“Well, we’re gonna be here for a while, baby. I don’t know much about sorcerers, but I’m pretty sure I can recognize the symptoms of food poisoning.”

Toji groaned. “Fucking Red Lobster… making me miss out on anniversary sex…”

“I’ll be back in a few. You’re gonna need some water, Pepto Bismol, soda, crackers, and light snacks to keep down.”

“Nooo… don’t go…” he wearily waved at you to come back.

You leaned against the door frame of the bathroom, smiling gently at the sick man. “Do you want anything? I can get you some scratch off tickets. Dragon Stars Lotto. Those are your favorite, right?”

Toji smiled weakly. “You’re an angel, baby.”

You kissed the back of Toji's neck and smiled as he shuddered against your lips.

“When you get back, I’m gonna fuck the memories of anyone else outta you.”

You laughed, grabbed your bag, and left the apartment. Smiling and hopeful for what’s to come next.

—

a/n: yo. sorry i've been gone for so long. been trying to find a new job and then suddenly decided to learn blender animation for some reason. (if anyone can give me tips it would be much appreciated) so i started working on this in February for like a valentine's thing then looked up and saw that is April so... happy april fool's! or whatever... enjoy a not so serious toji fic. more to come soon.

[mikanlardyclinic]

Okumura foods disposal unit...

Those words resonated in the back of the empress's mind.. They needed something to dispose of the extra stock.. And the empress offered herself.. Why..? Because what was disposed off was way too much.. It was too expensive for her company and it would put a dent on the budget..

Month 2

"y..you c..can d..do it.. Haru.. J..just.. 4 more bags.. Hbngh.. W..why couldn't they send me a salad.."

2 months had passed she only ate big bang burger breakfast lunch dinner.. Her snacks it was all her extra stock.. She needed to continue it was all gonna go to waste otherwise... The foods made her stomach growl.. And groan from sickness.. She was tired but she shoved it in her maw.. Chomping and moaning..... She wanted to puke...

Month 8..

Mementos.. She needed a workout mementos was perfect but.. She kept shoving those meals down her mouth even there.. She couldn't stop.. She could let it build up... But all this movement... It messed her stomach..

Frrrpfflbltt frrt.. Brrraaaaap!!

"I..im s..sorry.. Munch. Gulp! Everyone.. Ahh.. I..i haven't been of much sniff.. U..use.."

The empress's eyes wete filled with tears as she shobed another greasy burger into her mouth.. Most girls were keeping their distance not because they. Weren't worried about haru but because of the lack of space and her awful stench everyone minus makoto keeping the empress bag near her..blushing..

"it's okay haru we understand.. We can help you deal with your.. Predicament later.. But you won't be able to join us for mementos.. Y..you're not doing much.. Okay?"

The council president watched her fluffy friend shoved the burger harder down her throat.. It hurt her to say that and it hurt haru to hear it she needed to lose weight.. Thankfully makoto seemed eager to help..

Year 1...

The help the other thieves gave her wasn't enough... She just kept growing and growing chugging and chugging... A slave to her own company a trash disposal.. But she had someone atleast..

Beeeeeeeep.... Beeeeeeeeeeeeeeep............. Beeeeeeeeeeeeeeep

"m..mahku-chan.. Ulp ulp ulp ulp Wheeeezee!!.. Chan't. Gulp gulp gulp B..breashe..help..p..pleashe.."

The okumura blob kept chugging her used fryer oil, puke and lard on her cheeks her pink panties covered in her waste and buried in her asscheeks machines surrounding her to keep her stable and an oxygen tank and its valve being spun by a plump pale hand covered in grime and oil..

"ahh.. Ahh.. S..sorry haru.. F..forgot about it.. Scarf chomp gulp!

"thaaaanksh.... Wheeeze maahkoo.. - chaaan.."

Makoto nijima trying to lower the burden of her friend tried to help her eat.. Only ending up as an obese pug herself.. She hadn't eaten fast food in forever.. And now she ate it non stop... Slowly ballooning up like the empress drinking lard.. Wearing Sweat stained clothes.. That were starting to rip.. Her chest hurt...her gut hurt she wanted to puke.. But she needed to help haru with her burden.. They would, both lose the weight... That's for sure.. They had to.. Right?..

These will be muse variants if you want an in denial makoto or a blobby haru they are available for asks right now!~

[businessmarketreports]

An Overview of UK Home Small Domestic Appliances Market: Trends and Insights

The UK home small domestic appliances (SDA) market has seen significant growth driven by evolving consumer lifestyles, technological innovations, and a growing focus on energy efficiency and sustainability. From kettles and toasters to handheld vacuums and smart kitchen gadgets, SDAs are becoming indispensable in UK households.

Buy the Full Report for More Category Insights into the UK Home Small Domestic Appliances Market

Download a Free Sample Report

Here’s an analysis of the key trends and insights shaping the market in 2024.

1. Market Size and Growth

The SDA market in the UK is expected to grow at a CAGR of 4-6% from 2023 to 2028, driven by post-pandemic shifts in home-based lifestyles.

Rising disposable income and increasing interest in premium and smart appliances are fueling demand.

2. Key Consumer Trends

a. Smart and Connected Appliances

Voice control integration (via Alexa, Google Assistant) and IoT-enabled SDAs are gaining traction.

Popular products: Smart kettles, Wi-Fi-enabled coffee makers, and robotic vacuum cleaners.

b. Health and Wellness Focus

Growing interest in air fryers, blenders, and juicers as consumers focus on healthier lifestyles.

Increased demand for air purifiers and humidifiers due to rising concerns over indoor air quality.

c. Sustainability and Energy Efficiency

UK consumers are prioritizing eco-friendly appliances with lower energy consumption, such as energy-efficient kettles and low-wattage irons.

Brands offering repairable and recyclable products are seeing stronger loyalty.

d. Compact and Space-Saving Designs

Urban living and smaller households drive demand for multi-functional and compact SDAs, such as 2-in-1 steamers or combination microwaves.

3. Product-Specific Insights

Kitchen Appliances

Coffee Machines:

Premium brands like Nespresso and De’Longhi dominate, with demand for bean-to-cup and pod-based machines increasing.

Air Fryers:

Brands like Tefal and Ninja lead as air fryers become a household staple.

Consumers prioritize larger capacities and multi-functionality.

Cleaning Appliances

Robotic Vacuum Cleaners:

Growing adoption of smart robotic vacuums from brands like iRobot and Eufy.

Consumers value mapping technologies and self-emptying features.

Handheld Vacuums:

Brands like Dyson continue to dominate the cordless vacuum segment, driven by innovations in battery life and suction power.

Personal Care Appliances

Growth in electric toothbrushes, hair dryers, and grooming kits, driven by brand diversification and targeted marketing.

4. Retail and Distribution Trends

E-commerce Boom:

Online channels like Amazon, Argos, and Currys are witnessing robust growth, fueled by convenience and competitive pricing.

Omni-Channel Experiences:

Retailers are integrating digital and in-store experiences, such as AR demos for products.

Subscription Models:

Brands offering subscription plans for products like coffee machines and vacuum filters are seeing higher customer retention.

5. Competitive Landscape

Key Players

Dyson:

Leader in cordless vacuum and air purifier segments, with a focus on cutting-edge design and functionality.

Ninja:

Dominates the air fryer market and continues to expand into other SDAs like blenders and multi-cookers.

Philips:

Strong presence in personal care and kitchen appliances, with a growing focus on energy efficiency.

Breville:

Known for kettles, toasters, and sandwich makers, with a strong mid-market appeal.

Market Share Dynamics

Premium brands like Dyson and Nespresso dominate the high-end segment.

Mid-range brands (e.g., Tefal, Morphy Richards) maintain steady growth by balancing affordability and quality.

New entrants offering smart or niche eco-friendly solutions are gradually gaining market share.

6. Challenges and Opportunities

Challenges

Economic Pressures:

Inflation and rising energy costs may deter discretionary spending on premium SDAs.

Supply Chain Disruptions:

Component shortages and logistical issues continue to affect manufacturing and delivery timelines.

Opportunities

Sustainability:

Brands investing in energy-efficient and recyclable products are likely to capture eco-conscious consumers.

Customization:

Offering customizable products (e.g., personalized coffee settings or modular vacuum components) can differentiate brands.

7. Future Outlook

Smart Home Integration:

Growth in smart home adoption will drive demand for IoT-enabled SDAs.

Health and Wellness Products:

Continued interest in products supporting healthy lifestyles, such as air purifiers and low-fat cooking appliances.

Sustainability Leadership:

Companies embracing circular economy principles will gain a competitive edge.

The UK small domestic appliances market is poised for steady growth, underpinned by consumer preferences for convenience, sustainability, and technology-driven innovation. Players who align their strategies with these evolving trends will be best positioned to thrive.

[petermorwood]

@dduane's tags:

don't need a separate rice cooking appliance

as our household already has @petermorwood

who makes absolutely perfect rice every time

one of his many superpowers

:)

...oh yeah:

Ireland

Heh.

We've got a small enough kitchen that getting an air fryer / slow cooker / bread machine / rice cooker have all been considered, then abandoned for lack of space.

TBH, they're also not needed.

We don't deep-fry stuff often enough to need a dedicated device (the long-ago deep fryer was used just twice in 12 months, after which it was carefully cleaned and passed on to a charity shop); our oven has a slow cook setting; we make bread with a mixer or processor and that oven; I do the rice.

I searched "Why use a rice cooker" and got more or less the same info from several different sources. The writer of this Huffpost article said:

I tried cooking rice over the stove and ended up with a soggy mess, then tried making it with an Instant Pot and got uncooked grains. ... Instead of having to boil water over the stove, stir in the rice, cover it and simmer (all while keeping your eye on a timer), all you have to do is put the rice and water in the cooking pot, place it in the cooker, and press a button. There’s no need to peek under the lid to make sure your heat isn’t too high or low, or worry about babysitting a pot to keep the rice at the bottom from burning.

This is from Tom's Guide:

Anyone who cooks rice regularly knows it can often be tricky to get it right each time. Much like a science, if the water levels in the pot are not precise, or the stove temperature is not adjusted carefully, you’ll end up with either soggy, crunchy or worse still, burnt rice. ... After all, who has time to stand by a pot of boiling rice, constantly stirring, and having to scrub it clean at the end?

Here's my response.

I get it right every time.

Once, very early on, I ended up with soggy rice, but I've never had crunchy or burnt rice.

I don't have to stand by the pot constantly stirring, in fact my method doesn't involve doing either.

I don't have to peek under the lid, in fact my method says Don't Do That.

I don't have to keep an eye on the timer, it's got a loud beep.

My saucepan is as easily cleaned as the pot of a rice cooker.

Here's my method:

Put 2 containers of water in a saucepan & bring to the boil (control dial Full On).

Add 1 same-size container of rice, stir, return to the boil.

Reduce to low simmer (turn control dial to one stop up from Off), cover and wait 12 minutes.

Do Not Peek.

Preheat oven to 120°C. This is optional, see (7)

After 12 minutes, check if water is absorbed.

If it's all absorbed, fluff the rice with a fork, cover again & transfer the saucepan to the heated oven for about 30 minutes. Turn the oven off; residual heat is enough. Rice CAN be eaten straight away, the oven stage just improves things from Great to Excellent.

If it isn't all absorbed, put the lid back and wait about 2-3 more minutes, then continue as (7).

I've been cooking white long-grain and Basmati rice this way for years, and It Always Works. Conclusion: even if we had room for a rice cooker, we don't need one.

More Here.

A Lot More Here.

ok I’m curious so put in the tags what country you are from and whether or not you own/use a rice cooker

[sw33tpotatoh3ad]

Back to the Gym.

Friday, February 7, 2025

What did I do today? I slept about ten hours, according to my Whoop. I woke up kind of late and ended my no-masturbation streak. I probably jerked off like three times when I woke up, then I played Splatoon 3 on and off for a while. I was procrastinating a lot; I didn't feel like doing much. I let the dogs out to pee, but they didn't like the rain. It was sprinkling, and they just stayed on the front porch. I ate the leftover beef from yesterday, and I realized it was too salty, or maybe it was the Tostitos sauce I poured all over it. I did a couple of chores, nothing big, and I got ready for the gym. I got my gym bag ready and got dressed. I realized Vanessa would be home in just a couple of hours. I managed to apply for two jobs at a hospital and posted some stuff online. I visited my parents for just a minute to steal some coconut cookies while talking to Vanessa on the phone. Vanessa had a late lunch and was at a meeting, driving back to the office, and we spoke a little. I continued to procrastinate some more, but for the most part, I was ready for the gym. I kept having to poop a lot; I sure used up a lot of toilet paper. Vanessa called me when she got out, complaining about traffic. She said she would be late coming home. I told her it was okay, don't worry about it. She got home around 6 PM, and I grabbed the protein shakes I made earlier, and we were off to the gym. We started with leg day; it's our preferred way of working out. We did about twenty minutes of lower body stretches and then performed some hip thrusts, about six sets, which absolutely drained us. One of the straps popped loose, and we put it back and let the staff know that a screw came loose on the machine. We then did some deadlifts, lunges, and squats. My legs were about to give out when I was about to start the squat, and we ended our workout around 8:15 PM. We took a few pictures before taking off. At home, I took another dump and put the chicken in the air fryer before taking a shower. Vanessa kept an eye on it while I showered. When I was done, I went to the bedroom to relax, and when I came out, Vanessa was already eating the chicken. I came out in the nude and told her to serve me. She fussed, so I served myself. "Wench!" I yelled at her for not eating with me. While eating, I almost choked on the chicken! I told Vanessa I was choking, but she yelled that I'm always shitting and choking! All I do is shit and choke! I got ready for work, and Vanessa groomed me before I went. She sure did fuss a lot today about everything, even while grooming me and watching The Office on her phone. The end.

Lunch:

Lean Ground Beef (2 servings): 400 calories, 45g protein

Tostitos Salsa (small jar): 90 calories, 0g protein

Orange Juice (1 cup): 120 calories, 2g protein

Snack:

Coconut Cookies (2): 350 calories, 5g protein

Milk (1 cup): 120 calories, 8g protein

Protein Shake:

Protein Powder: 120 calories, 24g protein

Collagen: 45 calories, 9g protein

Milk: 60 calories, 1g protein

Dinner:

McDonald's Chicken Nuggets (10): 470 calories, 27g protein

Air-Fried Chicken Breast (large): 275 calories, 45g protein

Totals:

Calories: 1950

Protein: 166g

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CHEF ILONA: EASIEST HAWAIIAN MUSUBI SUSHI

My air fryer & rice cooker are the real heroes for this banger of a meal!

Hawaiian musubi with egg is a delightful fusion of island flavors and Japanese culinary tradition. Rooted in Hawaii’s multicultural food culture, this variation of musubi combines simplicity, bold flavors, and convenience, making it a beloved local treat. Rooted in Hawaii’s multicultural food culture, this dish combines the simplicity of sushi with tropical charm, offering a satisfying snack or meal that’s both flavorful and portable. At its core, Hawaiian musubi with egg is built around a base of sticky, seasoned sushi rice. The rice is lightly seasoned with rice vinegar, sugar, and salt, serves as the foundation of this dish. Its subtle tanginess complements the rich toppings while keeping the flavors balanced.

One defining feature of Hawaiian musubi is its iconic rectangular shape, achieved using a mold or formed by hand. Layers of rice are pressed into this shape, often topped with a slice of spam, which has become a beloved staple in Hawaiian cuisine. The spam is typically pan-fried with a sweet soy glaze, giving it a savory, caramelized flavor that pairs beautifully with the rice. The addition of egg elevates this musubi to a whole new level. The egg adds a touch of sweetness and a soft texture, creating a satisfying contrast to the chewy rice and crisp edges of the spam. Some variations might include seasonings like furikake (a Japanese rice seasoning blend) or a sprinkle of green onions for added flavor.

To complete the musubi, a sheet of nori seaweed is wrapped around the rice and toppings, securing everything together while adding a salty, umami flavor. The nori also makes it easy to eat on the go, a nod to the dish's origins as a convenient, portable snack. Hawaiian musubi sushi with egg is more than just a tasty treat; it’s a symbol of Hawaii’s unique culinary identity, which embraces diverse cultural influences and local ingredients. Whether served warm from a local shop or lovingly prepared at home, this dish offers a taste of aloha with every bite.

EASIEST HAWAIIAN MUSUBI SUSHI

Serves 2-4 ppl

1 can SPAM, sliced into 8 slices --- KEEP THE CAN!!!

Musubi Sauce Glaze for SPAM:

4 teaspoons soy sauce

4 teaspoons sugar

4 teaspoons mirin

---or---

4 Tbsp store bought teriyaki or honey garlic sauce

Cook SPAM in the air fryer or a frying pan for 2 minutes on each side.

Brush the SPAM with the glaze and continue to fry an additional minute per side.

The SPAM should have a bronzed, glazed appearance

Sushi Rice:

4 cups cooked short grain rice, tossed with sushi rice seasoning after sushi rice is cooked and still warm, (optional, but very strongly recommended):

4 Tbsp unseasoned rice vinegar

3 Tbsp sugar

2 tsp salt

2 Tbsp mirin (Japanese cooking wine)

Air Fryer Eggs (can also be done in a frying pan)

Preheat air fryer to 350

6 eggs, cracked open and whisked for 30 seconds until the mixture is homogeneous

Line the basket with double air fryer parchment liner or other square dish that fits into the machine sprayed well with pan spray

Pour egg into liner or another non-stick square vessel

Cook for 12 minutes or until cooked through

Cut egg into 8 equal rectangles (should be the same length and width of the spam

Furikake (optional)

To Assemble:

Add ½ cup of cooked rice to an empty spam container lined with plastic wrap.

Firmly press it down with the back of a spoon; aim for 1⅔ inch height.

If using, sprinkle furikake on top. Repeat with the remaining rice for a total of 8 musubi.

Place the egg slices over the rice and then top with the spam slices and wrap the musubi with strips of nori, placing it seam side down.