#I’m still gonna try this recipe probably if I have the ingredients but like

[sputnikscock420]

How many loaves do you think I can make with these lmao

Banana Bread with Streusel Topping

[fuck-customers]

i love when the resident kitchen idiot that everyone hates, who everyone has been complaining about for months, who kept getting bumped between sections because he wouldn’t do the work expected of him, who only still had a job at all because we didn’t have a body to replace him with, decides to come in at 9:30a for a brunch shift drunk enough that people can smell it on him and gets fired before he can punch in.

it was our last shift before a four day weekend for thanksgiving, you couldn’t give it an extra 4-5h?

the hilarious thing is that we’ve been in a temp chef shuffle since he got hired and every. single. one of them. has immediately fucking despised this guy. the first chef (who hired both me and the kitchen idiot) had probably the lowest standards of quality for our style of venue and would put up with a lot more bullshit than was definitely reasonable but left to go start his own restaurant. then it was our sous chef (who had been hired shortly before me) who would baby him through everything like he’s helping a pre-k’er figure out his letters and left to get his trade journeyman’s—leaving me as the person with the longest tenure in this kitchen and foisting the idiot onto me as his “trainer.”

thing is, i do not have the patience to train someone who refuses to be trained. if i can tell at a glance that it’s not simple misunderstanding due to language barrier, but malicious willful ignorance, i’m not gonna be fucking nice anymore. i’m gonna start actually calling out the bullshit that everyone else had been dancing around for two months prior and the more i have to repeat myself the less happy i’m gonna be and the more aware of it i’m going to make you.

the temps who came in after the sous left agreed with me btw. which included first chef’s boss and another temp. idiot got himself fired less than a week in to our new permanent chef’s tenure and even HE came to me in private to ask if there was anything he could do to get the guy to give a fuck, and i just told him “there’s nothing you could say to him that nobody else already tried” which he sympathized with.

i shouldn’t have to tell you every time you slice meat that you need to wipe down, sanitize, AND reassemble the slicer AND sweep the floor under around the station afterwards as part of completing the task. i shouldn’t have to tell you every time you plate desserts that the point of the toothpick is to keep the plastic wrap OFF the cakes, so it’s not peeling up the frosting/glaze, so that it’s presentable for the customer, and thus punching a hole through the wrap to spear the toothpick through and press the wrap flush to the cake is completely counterinfuckingtuitive. i shouldn’t have to tell you every time you use the food processor that you 1. need to mix all of your ingredients in a separate bowl BEFORE trying to blend them, and 2. need to make sure the blade is in position BEFORE dumping in a bunch of shit that’s going to gum up the works otherwise. i shouldn’t have to reiterate to you and have you repeat back to me three times in quick succession that you only need to follow up to a certain step in the recipe with only a certain collection of ingredients, almost literally draw you a fucking diagram, and then turn around to find you’ve fucked it up so badly it’s clear you didn’t even look at the recipe at all and just the ingredients list (despite having made this recipe before) and have simply proceeded to waste an hour of everybody’s time and the better part of a week’s worth of product—and then fuck it up AGAIN somehow when told to redo it, so that i, AS USUAL, have to waste prep time coming back through behind you to make sure we actually have any usable fucking product.

it got to the point where he was literally turning to me and the girl who still works cold line with me and asking why we weren’t doing the tasks we (as his superiors in the section) kept assigning to him, or at least the part of the task that comprises like 80% of what needs done, and he outright told the latest temp chef that he doesn’t like being expected to do what’s asked of him when he got confronted about it. if not for the fact he got himself fired i would’ve had full clearance to tell him the next time he asked some dumb shit like that “because it’s your job, and if you’re not gonna do the work you’re being asked to do, you can clock out and go home, because otherwise why the fuck is anyone paying you to be here?”

oh well! good riddance to bad rubbish. love it when the trash lets the door hit it on the way to taking itself out.

the funniest thing was when he tried to come back in today, the first day after that four-day holiday, like he expected to still have a job. bro you came in drunk before 10am lmao you don’t have a job anymore you just have a fucking problem. and i have one less! goodbye, i wish you a very harsh wake-up call and a hearty go fuck yourself! get better soon, far the hell away from me ❤️

Posted by admin Rodney

[afkenma]

bakings never been so chaotic: karasuno first year drabble.

A/N: HEY HI HELLO AGAIN!! For my second piece I decided to exclude a reader and try to work on my biggest enemy; dialogue. it probably won’t be as sweet as the first one but I think it’s the grind that counts, kita said something similar, didn’t he? Either way your gonna see my perception of each character here, and I’ve come armed for criticism!!

“Alright, here’s our plan,” Yamaguchi declared with a toothy grin on his face and and a rolled peice of paper in his hands. Gathered around him were the rest of the first years, each seated on brown dining chairs circling a round, simple dining table. He begun to spread out the paper on the table, for everyone to lean in and take a better look at, except Tsukishima, who’s already seen the pictures. (“your overdoing it.”)

The paper was a simple comic, coloured and sketched in black ink, and using stick figures to narrate the plan. Yamaguchi assertively points to the first one. “…As you can see, everyone is gonna go into the kitchen and use these cups to measure the ingredients, and Hinata, Kageyama, flour is a white powder here, not the plants.”

“Yes, sir!” The oddball duo exclaimed, as Yachi timidly nods out her agreement.

“And then—” He dragged his finger to the second sketch, “We’re gonna add everything into the bowl in order, and mix.”

“Yes, sir!” They repeat, with more passion that suggested they were more exited to start than before. Tsukishima reluctancly nods with Yachi. Yamaguchi excitedly glances around the room in a smile, before finishing.

“Then finally, we’re gonna bake and decorate the best cake ever!” He then neatly folds the paper, as the freak duo spring out of their seats like slinkies with a loud “Yes, Sir!”, bolting to yamaguchi’s kitchen to start first, yachi in tow.

“They’re too exited. I can’t imagine how many mugs, cups and dishes are going to be destroyed by the end of this.” Tsukishima scoffs, taking in his arms a small audio speaker Yamaguchi was shoving at him.

“It’ll be fine, I think. You just focus on good music.” Yamaguchi hushed, flailing a limp rist around to undermind the very possible reality. He leaves Tsukishima in the dining hall, where the taller realizes that the speakers in his hand look an awful lot like the ones he tragically lost last year.

Concerning bangs and unidentified noises greet Yamaguchi at the doorframe, which leads him to wonder if he’ll even be able to take a ‘told you so’ when paying his parents for the damages, but upon turning a knob and opening a door, he’s subjected to an eerily-underestimated scene. The twins in orange and blue are carefully measuring out all-purpose baking flour in translucent measuring cups, attentively following Yachi’s instructions to them. They toss snide remarks at the other’s performance, but it’s enough to relieve his worries…until he watches them continue to siv in the flour into metalic bowl even after he’s certainly already seen them add four cups.

“G-guys, your overdoing it, too.” He steps in. Yachi keenly leans into his attention and smiles.

“Don’t worry, they haven’t reached the nine cups yet.” She hesitantly assures.

“H..huh? The recipe didn’t say to add four?”

“Four!? But…I just read—” Her voice instantly dies in her throat as her eyes scan, then frantically re-scans the first handwritten line of the instructions, panicked over her mistake. “Ah…What!?! I’m sorry, I-I’m sosososorry!! Here!” She slurs out as she swoops the measuring cup off kageyama’s hand and aggressively shoves scoops of flour back in. Yamaguchi catches her contagious fears, but profusely re-assures her that it’s okay and to take no mind to it, and Hinata smugly scolds Kageyama on how he knew he was right when he “…Said it looked like too much! Mom never adds this much into her pancakes”

“That’s because it’s flaming pancakes, of course it’s gonna have less flour, dumbass!”

“Oh shut up, I’m still right!”

“You’re right as you all tall.”

“W-what’d you say to me?!”

Four minutes was enough for any sense to be completely disposed of and ten screaming children would look like angels put next to this kitchen, which were the exaggerated thoughts of Tsukishima cautiously entering through the kitchen door into the unsheathed chaos, handling the speaker that sung a default playlist from Spotify. Yamaguchi hastingly scurries toward him, shamed and about ready to cry. “Please don’t say I told you so, but—”

“Told you so.”

(they never finished measuring the ingredients, or baking anything at all. Instead, they were all subjected to the harsh scolding of Yamaguchi’s mother once she stumbled home and into the flour-bombed room)

[pocket-sized-nightmare]

here's my (slightly late) fic for day 5 of @mcyt-yuri-week! today's prompt is "rose/thorns" :D

Katherine knows what she’s doing is cliché.

Nothing screams “tired romantic tropes” more than giving your crush a rose. Katherine is fully aware it’s a silly idea. Still, she’s nothing if not a gardener. Flowers are her love language. Shrub’s empire is nature-themed, too, so Katherine hopes her closest ally will appreciate a gift from the Overgrown’s garden.

Besides, it’s not like it’s a red rose. Katherine has been working on growing rainbow roses for the last several months, and they’ve finally begun to sprout. They’re still a bit too small, but she thinks she might have figured out a way to fix that, too. Her potion-making has gotten worlds better recently, and she’s ready to use her new skills.

She takes out a bottle of sparkling green potion. “Ta-da!” she announces to the universe. “My very own recipe for plant growth serum! It looks a little too sparkly, but that’s probably fine.” With a flourish, she pours the potion onto the roses.

Nothing happens right away, so Katherine wanders back to the cauldron she brewed the potion in. All the ingredients look right – she’s laid them all out next to it, and there aren’t any extras. Although, now that she thinks about it, she isn’t sure where her glowstone dust is.

A brief check reveals that the container is upside down inside the cauldron. Something must have knocked it over when she wasn’t looking. Every grain of dust is now mixed into the potion. Katherine buries her face in her hands and laughs. “Oh, no!”

She’s interrupted by an odd crackling sound from the rosebush. Katherine runs over and leans closer. “Wait, did it work?”

Suddenly, the bush doubles in size. The roses’ stems crackle and stretch, then shoot up to ten blocks tall. Some of the roses grow in at strange angles, trapping Katherine in the middle. She can feel stems, vines, and branches pinning her wings and arms in place. She shrieks. “Nope! It did not work!”

The growth slows to a crawl, then stops. The rosebush stands tall – literally overgrown – in the middle of the garden. Katherine is trapped.

Katherine wriggles and squirms, but the roses refuse to budge. She sighs. “This is the worst.”

A wolf trots over to the rosebush and sniffs one of the stems with a confused expression. Katherine tries to wave at it. “Hey, friend! Be careful of the thorns.”

The wolf looks up, tilts its head at the sight, and barks.

“Yeah, I know,” Katherine chuckles. “I made a mistake.”

The wolf crawls between the stems and bites the hem of Katherine’s dress. Katherine looks down in confusion. “Hey, that’s my dress! What are you doing?”

To her surprise, the wolf tugs at Katherine’s dress, almost as though it’s trying to pull her free from the rosebush itself. When it fails, it whines, barks again, then turns and runs off in the other direction. 

Katherine shakes her head. “What the heck?”

It only occurs to her a few minutes later that wolves are loyal to the Undergrove.

—

Shrub is peacefully eating lunch when a wolf runs up to her and flops down at her feet, panting for breath.

“Hey, buddy,” Shrub giggles as she pets its head. “You’ve been out playing, huh?”

The wolf licks her hand and flops down for belly rubs. 

Shrub gladly obliges. “Where’d you even go, anyway?”

The wolf tilts its head, thinks for a moment, then remembers. It barks a few times, sharp and anxious.

Shrub gasps. “Katherine’s in trouble?”

It barks affirmatively one more time.

“Okay. I’m gonna go get her now.” Shrub hops to their feet with determination. “Thanks for letting me know.”

—

When Shrub reaches the Overgrown, Katherine is nowhere to be found. “Katherine? Are you here? My wolves told me you were in trouble. Is everything okay?”

“Shrub?” Katherine’s voice calls from somewhere nearby.

Shrub looks around. “Yeah? What’s going on?”

Katherine chuckles awkwardly. “I’m kind of stuck.”

“Oh, no!” Shrub scans the garden area, but she can’t see Katherine anywhere. There’s just strawberries, herbs, and a particularly large rosebush–

Oh.

They race over to the rosebush and peer through the stems. Sure enough, Princess Katherine is trapped in the middle of it. Two stems keep her wings firmly pinned in place, and a pair of vines tie her arms down next to them. She gives Shrub an embarrassed smile and her best attempt at a wave.

Shrub bites back a laugh. “Katherine, how?”

“I may or may not have accidentally dropped an entire container of glowstone dust into some growth serum.” Katherine looks at Shrub sheepishly. “At least now I know the recipe works.”

“That doesn’t look like a ‘working recipe’ to me,” Shrub laughs. “Here, let me get you out of there.”

He tries to push some of the stems out of the way, but one of them sways back towards him. Katherine winces. “Wait, look out for the–“

A large thorn pokes Shrub in the side. “Ow!”

“Thorns,” Katherine finishes, a moment too late. “Look out for the thorns. They’re sharper than they should be.”

“I’ve noticed.” Shrub gives up and lets go of the rosebush. She takes out her axe. “Alright, time for Plan B.”

Shrub swings their axe at the bush, but the hits don’t even leave a dent in it. Shrub stumbles backwards. “Katherine, you’ve created indestructible plants.”

Despite herself, Katherine grins. “Cool! I have to do some research on that. Maybe I can stop the rabbits from eating my garden!”

Shrub shakes his head affectionately. “You’re the best, you know that?”

Katherine blushes. “Aw, thank you…”

Shrub sits down next to Katherine’s strange cage, wrinkling her nose in annoyance. “Okay, then. So if we can’t move or break the rosebush, how can we get you free?”

Katherine sighs and struggles against the vines, to no avail. “I’m not sure. Thanks for trying, though.”

There’s a moment of silence between them. Suddenly, Shrub jumps to their feet. “Nope. Absolutely not. I am not leaving until I get you out of there.”

Katherine blushes again. Her heart races. She isn’t used to people protecting her — she’s usually the main guardian of the Overgrown. Besides, even if she was accustomed to receiving help instead of giving it, the fact that Shrub of all people is here to save her is enough to fluster her beyond words. All she can do is nod.

Meanwhile, Shrub inspects the rosebush. “Hmm. You said you were making a growth serum, right?”

Katherine nods. “As you can see, it worked a bit too well.”

Shrub’s eyes suddenly light up with an idea. “That’s a potion, right?”

“Yep! Although you probably shouldn’t drink it.”

“So then…” Shrub tugs curiously on one of the leaves. Sure enough, it sparkles with green particles. “This is kind of a silly idea. It probably won’t work. But what if…” He reaches into his inventory. “What if we gave the plants milk?”

“That’s…” Katherine can’t help but giggle. “That is a really weird idea. But I think it might actually work!”

“Aha!” Shrub triumphantly takes a bucket of milk out of her inventory. “I knew I had some. Alright, here goes nothing.”

Katherine crosses her fingers as Shrub pours the milk onto the ground.

The plants shudder for a moment, then start to shrink.

Katherine wiggles her wrists until the vines snap. Shrub reaches between the roses, dodges a few errant thorns, and pulls Katherine through an opening between the stems. “Gotcha!”

“I can’t believe that worked.” Katherine looks at Shrub in amazement. “I wouldn’t have thought of that in a hundred years.”

“I also can’t believe that worked.” Shrub laughs. “My ideas usually don’t.”

Katherine scoops Shrub up in a hug. “My hero.”

Shrub’s freckle-studded face turns bright red. “I do my best.”

Katherine kisses Shrub on the forehead, spins them around, and then puts them back down. Shrub looks at the rosebush. “They’re so pretty! I’ve never even thought of growing rainbow roses before.”

“Yeah, but they’re too small. That’s why I tried to make the potion for them.”

“I like them! They’re just my size.” Shrub giggles.

Katherine smiles warmly, then picks a rose and tucks it behind Shrub’s ear. “You’re right. They’re perfect for you.”

They stand there for a moment, both blushing furiously. A wolf runs over, nudges Shrub, and barks. Shrub sighs. “I have to go back to my empire.”

Katherine picks Shrub up for one more hug. “It was nice seeing you. Thanks for the rescue!”

“Anytime,” Shrub says with a grin.

Even after Shrub is gone, the blush doesn’t fade from Katherine’s cheeks. She sighs, laughs to herself, and sits down next to the rosebush. At least I got to give Shrub a rose in the end.

[writer-and-artist27]

Tumblr Story: Two Robins

Note: For @dollya-robinprotector. Because the writing urge hit and I wanted to send you something to destress. Also inspired by this comic you made on your other blog.

An informal sequel to “Reformed Bully,” basically. Because when life throws lemons, I make lemonade out of them. While listening to the song titled, My First Friend. 

Stories for friends work like that. :)

-----------------------------

“Another world through a magic door, huh…?” 

Vy couldn’t help but sit up in her place at the guest couch and slowly open her eyes at the sound of Robin’s voice. Even if he wasn’t her Robin, Lya’s Robin looked contemplative while taking off his apron in the now-cleaned kitchen, wiping some peanut butter off his hands with a napkin with a quiet hum. “Considering you were able to find a cookie recipe this easy to make,” he said with a soft laugh, “I probably shouldn’t be surprised at magic doors considering my sweetie’s habit of getting involved with a lot of people.”

“And…” Vy internally cursed herself for her low social battery, forcing her voice out as much as she could for Robin to notice, “who says… that habit is… a bad thing when… she still has… you, Robin?”

The brunette man turned to look at her with wide green eyes, the freckles on his face twitching before he smiles. “…That’s true,” he said in a softer voice, hanging his apron up on a nearby rack before opening the refrigerator and pulling out a water bottle. “But if you’re tired, Vy, you can use the couch to rest. You’re the guest here and you didn’t have to play with the kids.” The smile on his face widens to a grin once he walks over to place the water bottle in Vy’s ungloved hands, sitting down next to her soon after. “Though as one of their dads, I’m really grateful for your help.”

“Whitney looked… tired, y’know?” Her grip is shaky on the bottle cap once Vy twists at it to open the beverage, lifting the whole bottle carefully to drink the cold water inside for some energy. “Baking… cookies for the kids… is something I can do… considering they were curious… and I started it… by giving him some…” And sure, Chaldea didn’t have toddlers in its large roster of Servants (baby Caren notwithstanding — she was a unique case) — but her experience with kids thankfully wasn’t null and void. Plus their reactions to the “magic” of the three-ingredient peanut butter cookies were so so cute. Even recapping the water bottle in her hands after drinking half felt like an effort worth doing as she said, “So I… I wanted to help… besides…”

Robin leans forward to rest his chin against his palms, peering into her face with a curious expression. “Besides…?”

“It’s what…” Vy smiled, doing her best to ignore the urge to cough from how weak her voice felt in her throat. “It’s what… my Robin… would’ve done.”

Robin’s green eyes widened again — reminding Vy of Chaldea, of her Robin — before his brows furrowed against his forehead. “…You said that before,” he said in a quieter voice, one of his hands leaving his face in favor of reaching out towards her. Not nearly enough to touch, but close enough to the point of nearly patting her hair. “What is your Robin like, Vy? You said you saw some of him in Whit, which led you to us.”

How to respond… Vy turned her head to look at her lap, fidgeting with a hem of her skirt from the Chaldean Decisive Battle uniform. Her pockets still had some markers and her whiteboard, so—

“Vy…?” Lya’s Robin paused, a hand hovering close to hers once she put the half-full water bottle to the side and subsequently pulled out her writing set, carefully trying to uncap the nearest marker — pink this time, it seemed — to start scribbling a response.

“Energy… low…” Vy said hastily to fill in the silence, shaking her head. “Gonna have to… write to you… Robin… so excuse me.”

Past the shade of her low ponytail, it thankfully didn’t hide the understanding look that dawned on Robin’s face, his newest smile sympathetic towards her as he nodded. “You’re excused.” 

“Th-Thankie…” With one grateful gulp of air, Vy wrote as quickly yet as neatly as she could, the words coming naturally to the forefront of her mind. My Robin is my hero.

Turning the board over to let Lya’s Robin read the words had his green eyes widen yet again. “Your hero…?”

Forcing energy into her next nod, Vy turned her whiteboard back to write more. I grew up with him, she “said,” doing her best to school the incoming blush on her face with a tiny cough. Whenever I was sad, whenever I needed to get away, he was there. In his green cape, whistling a tune, and hiding one eye away with his hair. Just by being himself and staying with me.

Vy wasn’t surprised to hear Robin chuckle at the word “hair” on her board once she turned the words toward him. “If your Robin has one eye hidden by his hair, I can understand why you reached out to Whit, then.” 

They’re similar in some ways, Whitney and my Robin. Behavior, looks, and voice, aye. Pasts are definitely different. Vy could tell even when having known Whitney for only half of a day. They both were rough around the edges, self-proclaimed “cowards,” easy to cover up their insecurities with lies, but— In the end, Robin inspires me. He makes me feel safe. He helps me keep going. That's why he’s “Big Robin” to me. 

“…Does he now?” Lya’s Robin says softly, glancing at the whiteboard before looking at Vy with a sad look to his green eyes. “Is that what a hero is to you, Vy? Someone who can be big and protect you?”

Not even the fatigue stopped Vy from hearing the longing in Robin’s voice, the lingering regret lacing his words, and she immediately turned her whiteboard back to herself to scribble a response.

I didn’t look up to my Robin just because he was big and protected me. Sure, he’s taller than me, and yes, he’s protected me, but he did more than that. Some of her “o”s looked loopy to her tired eye, but she still pointed them to Lya’s Robin for the man to read, tapping the underlined “more” with a face. Being a hero for someone can just be as simple as making sure there’s a home to come back to. A safe place to tuck away and be fine in someone’s arms. And if you’re worrying about that with Lya and your kids, Robin, I think you don’t have to. 

“...Huh?” The brunette blinks at her response, and Vy smiles, lowering her whiteboard to the lap of her skirt. She knew if she spoke up, she might not be able to do the same for the rest of the day, but—

“You’re… like my Robin too…” Vy eventually croaked, keeping as much cheer as she could once Lya’s Robin gaped at her. Her hands felt a bit like lead had been injected into them, but it didn’t matter. “You both… worry about… doing enough… for the people you love… and I wanna say… you’re okay.”

“Vy…” Robin whispered, his green eyes betraying his experiences and concerns. Living as an orphan, trying to make ends meet under cruel circumstances, hoping Lya could be happy… A soft choking noise made his voice wobble once he said with shimmering wetness characteristic of tears in his eyes, “You really think so?”

Vy knew that her Robin could and would make that exact same face (especially when she pushed herself too hard). It was why she smiled at Lya’s Robin, raising one shaky gloved hand to pat his frozen outstretched one. 

“I… know so. Because… because my Big Robin… taught me small kindnesses… like baking and hugging and helping… matter. So Robin… I think you’re plenty big… for Lya, Whitney, Alex… and your kids too.” A note of longing came out to grace the air between them, a cursory glance at the living room around them confirming to Vy that she was almost envious. “Having a farm like this… being able to safely have a family… not a lot of people can say the same. So… give yourself more credit. You can… be ‘big’ in your own way too. Cooking… and games… and being you.”

Especially when I know how hard it is to fight for the home you want. When the home I want is still out of reach.

It was why Vy decided not to mention the plight of Humanity back in her world, what with the Foreign God and all of her fucking bullshit, in favor of grabbing a wad of tissues from her other skirt pocket to offer to the man sitting next to her. The tears in Robin’s eyes only grew in size against his lashes, but he was smiling once he took the tissues to wipe at his face. “Th-Thank you,” he choked out after a moment, a few droplets falling to the couch cushions between them as he laughed. “I-I didn’t know I needed to hear that before I heard it.”

Vy smiled, vaguely making out a silhouette of pink starting to emerge from the hallway behind Robin before nodding her head. “Aye. That can… definitely happen… and if you can’t believe it… why don’t you ask your sweetie?”

As if on cue, flowers seem to burst open in the air. “Of course, my gentle songbird!” Lya announces her sudden entrance with a tight hug to Robin from behind, falling to her knees and winding her arms around her husband’s neck enough to make the man squeak. “Vy has the right idea!”

“L-Lya…” Robin sniffles, but he looks happier once she’s in the picture, enough for relief to spread throughout Vy’s chest as she slowly scooted a foot or so away to give the happy couple some space. “I… I really am doing enough for you?”

“Of course you are! You’re my Robin!” Lya pouts when resting her chin atop Robin’s brown hair, shaking her head. “I love you more than anything, sweetie!”

“Sweetie…”

Vy closed her eyes to the sight, already feeling a little awkward if not for the lingering fatigue still in her systems, and thus debated stepping out. It didn’t feel right to say anything with Lya already reassuring her hubby better with lots of hugs and kisses beyond her closed eyelids, so…

“Muu…?”

Her back and legs suddenly weren’t on the couch anymore. Vy slowly blinked, feeling mana carry her up into the air and barely hearing Robin’s surprised “whoa” along the way. Her half-full water bottle, whiteboard and assorted markers were floating up with her, highlighted by — by purple runes? It would certainly explain why the floating was very much gentle, but if runes were here—

The corner of her blurry vision past her glasses let her see a single glimpse of violet and green before toned, muscular arms wrapped themselves around the backs of her shoulders and the undersides of her knees, holding her in a princess carry. “I look away for five minutes,” said a familiar voice above her head, “and then I find you’re pushing yourself again, little sparrow. Past another magical door too.”

“All in… good intentions, Big Robin…!” Vy still didn’t stop her Robin from holding her close enough for their foreheads to touch, a weak giggle leaving her lips once the tip of his nose rubs hers. Mint tickled the insides of her nostrils as she said, “Didn’t use… any mana… and was… able to bake… magic peanut butter cookies…!” 

“Which, little one,” Skadi interrupted with a soft clapping of her hands to dispel her wand into a flash of light (just so that Lya and her hubby wouldn’t notice, maybe?), chuckling while plucking the floating bottle and whiteboard materials out of the air to keep close to her chest for safekeeping. The smile on her delicate features looked wry and exasperated to oddly match the fond sparkle in her red eyes as she went on with, “you could have done that after taking your daily nap. I may be the last goddess of my original world, but what is it with your luck in finding other worlds without fail?”

Vy glanced up at her Robin — Robin Hood, the May King, her Big Robin — and smiled once he gave her a raised eyebrow. “I just… do?”

Robin sighed and bumped his nose with hers again. “…You worry me too much.” 

“I’m… sorry.”

“Don’t apologize for that, little sparrow. Just wander off with me next time.”

A quiet Ahem is what breaks Vy out of the growing warmth and surrounding mana — out of seeing two of her Grailed come through the same door that brought her to Whitney — and turning her head reveals Lya, her Robin, and a faraway Whitney all staring at her with wide eyes. Of course Robin Hood and Scathach-Skadi would stare back.

No one said anything for a good second. The toddlers could’ve woken up, Alex could’ve walked in, and yet no one would speak. That was the kind of stare-off it was.

“…Well,” Lya’s Robin starts first after the sound of a singular water droplet falling echoes from the sink, glancing at Chaldea’s Robin before awkwardly scratching at some of the freckles dotting his nose. “If this green-clothed man is your Big Robin, Vy, I can see why you love him so much. He is tall and has hair that makes me think of Whit.”

“He’s supposed to look like me?” Whitney said in clear disbelief from his place standing a few feet away in the hallway, his crumpled T-shirt and wrinkled sweats making it look like he just helped Alex in putting the toddlers to bed for their daily nap. “He’s green and… glowing.” 

“Excuse me for glowing,” Robin Hood bit out past Vy’s head, and Vy did her best to raise a shaky hand to his chest to pat sympathetically. “Being magical makes me sparkly. Not like a vampire, thank god.” 

“And I’m the goddess, yet can recognize the Twilight joke. Those books were not the best in regards to late-night reading.” Skadi chuckles again, and Vy glances at her just in time to catch the softer look that brushes her features as she bows her head towards the farm denizens still standing in front of them. “Excuse us for the late introductions. My name is Skadi, and the man carrying Vy next to me is our Robin. We just came through the nearest door together to take Vy home.”

“So she does have a home,” Lya muttered, enough to make both Robins and Whitney stare at her. “Was the ‘magic’ in the peanut butter cookies real, then?”

“Who knows?” Robin shrugs, but Vy knows he’s relaxing once he bounces her a little in his arms, just to adjust his grip and let her rest her head against his shoulder. The No Face May King was soft in feel against her ear, enough to be a borderline pillow and nearly make her forget him saying, “Vy — our little sparrow, has a habit of making magic. Still gotta take her back to recharge, though. So thanks for holding onto her until we could show up.” 

Whitney scoffs under his breath, muttering something that Vy can’t hear, but she can see the brunette Robin lightly elbow him just past the No Face May King’s shadow as Chaldea’s Robin turns on his heel to face the door that started this little journey. Compared to its visage from her room, the magical entrance wasn’t glowing as much as before, the silver handle appearing muted to contrast the bright green grass outside and the glowing of the Grailed beside her. But—

Skadi barely gets a chance to say her name before Vy reaches out towards the nearest thing she could reach — that being Robin’s mantle collar, to tug at and eventually gesture back towards the farm denizens. “Let me…” she croaks, “say bye?”

Robin stares at her. Vy stares back. It’s not even that long, but she tries, and after a few seconds, Robin sighs, turning on his heel one more time. “Just this once,” she hears him murmur softly. Skadi opens the door behind him once he does, but it doesn’t matter.

Even with her blurring vision, Vy can still make out the primary colors of Lya’s pink hair, of her Robin’s green eyes, and Whitney’s black tattoos. And with the rest of her strength, Vy raises one shaky gloved hand to wave at them. 

“Bye bye… thankie for the conversations… Whitney… Robin… if the kids ask… I’ll be back… with more cookies for them… and Lya… and Alex…! Soon soon…!” 

Chaldea’s Robin scoffs softly above her head, but he still carefully walks her back into Novum Chaldea through the doorway Skadi kept open for them. And once the door closes behind them and darkness starts to overtake her vision in favor of sleep, Vy can do nothing but lean against her Robin and wonder if Lya’s Robin and Whitney ever waved back.

It was a nice dream to ponder about if they did.

[roosterbox]

October Almost-Drabbles 10/8: Bat and Witch

Pairing: Steddie

Word Count: 582

Additional tags: alternate universe, witches and witchcraft, animal transformation, witch!Steve, bat!Eddie, established secret relationship that’s about to be not so secret

Side note: here, have a combination of two prompts to make up for skipping a day! Eddie would make the cutest bat ever. Also, do I even need to tag for fluff at this point? Y’all know me, you know what I’m about.

———

The little creature perched on Steve’s shoulder seemed quite entranced by the man’s motions as he stirred the cauldron. First clockwise, then counter, then back again. The mixture inside grew darker, and thicker, with each full rotation. Before too long, it was as black as the night itself, with sparkles of celestial light. Or a close enough approximation. Honestly the tiny bat didn’t know for sure. He just liked hearing Steve talk, and watching him work his magic. Literally.

“It’s ready,” the man said, carefully ladling out a small amount and pouring it into a glass vial. He looked at his companion. “Whenever you want to change back, you can.”

The bat shook his head, long curly fur bobbing, and snuggled himself closer. His tiny, leathery wings were surprisingly warm against Steve’s neck.

“Alright, alright,” Steve laughed, and cupped his hand around the little bat. He gently scratched at the downy soft head with his finger, eliciting a contented chirp. “But the kids are gonna be here soon. Probably with a lot of questions. Namely why their favorite DM is currently a bat.”

Eddie drew back a little, eyes wide but somehow still so expressive even as a bat. He chirruped again, though it was more pointed this time.

“You want me to tell them?”

Chirp.

“Everything? Honestly?”

Another chirp, then the bat rubbed his head against Steve’s neck again.

He sighed, and gave Eddie’s head another quick scratch. On one hand, it was probably good to get things out in the open. On the other… ugh. They were good kids, smart kids, and not altogether unused to the realm of the fantastic. Maybe they would take things well.

He looked around their house, at the various ingredients and potions and tinctures he’d had to mix and strain and struggle with before finding the proper recipe for Eddie. At his cauldron, still bubbling merrily away. And, lastly, at the bat that had until recently been his very human boyfriend. Yeah, it was a lot.

“At least let me turn you back so we can talk to them together?”

There was no answer. Eddie was trying his best to feign sleep, though the strong grip of his clawed feet in Steve’s shirt gave him away somewhat. That simple act - pretending to sleep to avoid a more serious conversation - was so adorably Eddie that Steve couldn’t help but smile.

There was a knock at the door. Muffled voices. The first of their little nuggets had arrived. Probably Max and the Sinclairs if he had to guess. Good. Out of all of them, those three would probably take the triple whammy of ‘Steve’s a witch, Eddie’s (currently) a bat, and they’re also dating by the way’ the best. Relatively speaking, that is.

“Coming!” Steve called out. He lifted the cauldron off of the fire and, after briefly considering dumping the rest of the mixture, decided to simply set it aside for now. With the way they’d been dabbling in spells lately, there’s no telling how useful a de-transformation potion might be.

Another knock. Impatient little brats.

“Yeah, yeah, yeah, keep your pants on,” muttered Steve as he reached for the doorknob. There was a squeak of what was probably meant to be encouragement from his shoulder. Steve rolled his eyes, but nudged his head against his at the moment diminutive lover. Then he straightened up, squared his shoulders, and let out a calming breath.

“Here goes nothing,” he said, and opened the door.

[kalliasandi]

03: Set up for failure | Wrongfully arrested | “I warned you”

Drarry :’)

Note: I wanted to do something very fluffy, so I did. It is still whumptober so obviously later in the fic is where the fluff sort of disappears …

Word count: Roughly 5,200

Today, the atmosphere surrounding Malfoy was one of bleakness, and Harry began to wonder what it was that made him dispirited almost daily. They were not that close though, Harry could never straight up ask him what it was that was bothering him. Or who it was. He knew many students despised Malfoy for his past actions. Though Harry tried talking to many people that Malfoy was not who he was, that he was changing and needed support in becoming a better man, no one listened. After the war, trust was not really there for those who were even forced upon the actions they did. There was nothing Harry could do or say to stop them from hating on those who have been trying to change.

Harry didn’t know how to help Draco, he didn’t want Draco to feel horrible all the time. Looking at him now, only focusing on his notes from today's classes, he was hunched down, head resting on one knee whilst sitting on his bed. Hair blocking his eyes that constantly wander off into space. Harry wanted to sit beside him, to study his face and body till he knew it like his own.

As an excuse, Harry fumbled through his bag, finding his potions workbook and textbook. He approaches Draco slowly, wanting to back down now but it was too late, Malfoy paused and looked up at Harry, question lingering in his eye as to what Harry’s intentions were.

“You’re much better at potions than I, though I was wondering if we could study together again?” Why was Harry so scared? They studied together before. Though it hadn’t quite felt like this.

“Sure.” Draco’s tone showed no emotion, Harry couldn’t read if he actually wanted to or not. But Draco moved to the other side of his bed, allowing room for Harry to sit next to him. On his bed.

“Well, you're gonna stand there all day Potter?”

Harry shakes his head and goes to sit on Malfoys bed. It was soft, much softer than his, probably due to the blankets. This made Harry wonder if he gets cold a lot. He feels like he knows he would. Harry wanted to test that himself, he wanted to reach towards Draco's pale hand that held the pencil, delicately writing notes.

They sat sort of quiet for the first few minutes, and during this Harry couldn’t even focus on his potions homework because he was hyper aware of his breathing and posture this close to Malfoy. But then Malfoy nudges Potter back to reality.

“I thought you wanted to study?”

“I do, sorry.” Harry didn’t know why he was sorry, he also didn’t know why he wasn’t brave at that moment. He was Harry bloody Potter, he should be brave. Especially at this moment, sitting on the bed of his erstwhile rival.

Malfoy moved towards Harry, pointing his pencil at an answer to a question in Harry’s textbook. “This is the answer. Looks like I am smarter than the one and only Harry Potter.”

“Oh shut it Malfoy, you wish.” Harry smiles when he looks up at him, blonde hair falling into Malfoy's eyes. Harry wanted to reach out and push aside the loose strands of hair. It took a lot for Harry not to. He knew he couldn’t, they were once sworn enemies. Ex-deatheaters and Auror’s were not supposed to be friends. If Harry even wanted that anyways. “I’m confused, how is that the answer?”

“It is a simple recipe the potion calls for, how dense can one get?”

“Well, still. Isn’t that supposed to cause a chemical reaction with the other ingredients? According to its compounds, it should blow up!” Harry did not understand potions at all. The only year he had been good at it was 6th year, and that was because of the textbook he had, Snapes textbook.

“It’s called balance.” And that was all Malfoy responded with, not explaining any further. If he did, Harry thought, would he be able to understand what he says? The chances are slim, potions is just a hard subject for Potter, and no amount of help could squeeze all that information into his brain.

Harry continued, hearing his own heartbeat too loud. He had hoped Malfoy wouldn’t be able to pick up on it. All Harry could do was try to distract himself by submerging his head into all of the notes and questions for potions.

Though after a while, Harry began to feel very tired, he tried all he could to stay up and do his work like Malfoy was, but at one point he couldn’t take it. Whatever, he had written and studied enough already, Hermione would help him if all else fails.

“Done!” Harry lies and packs up his notes from Malfoy’s bed as fast as he can.

“Pfft, yeah right.” Malfoy stays still though, continuing reading whatever textbook he has open. Malfoy either thought Harry was too dumb to finish that quickly, or he paid too much attention to Harry’s notes. Each of those possibilities had Harry feeling a weird tightening in his chest. Of course, Malfoy being himself, two of those at the same time were very probable. Malfoy needed to pay attention to Harry in order to find any flaw to mock him with, that had to be the correct answer. Of course. Harry could never be that interesting to Malfoy, never.

— — —

The next morning, Malfoy awoke before Harry, like always. When Harry put on his glasses the figure became very clear. Malfoy was forlorn, staring down at his left arm. He knew only a fragment of what Malfoy was thinking about, and it didn’t take much at all to guess. Malfoy, hunched forward with loose blonde hair blocking his furrowed eyebrows, looked ashamed. Possibly not wanting to be in the present at all. Harry dealt with that feeling almost everyday in fifth year. He vaguely knew what it was like, and if Malfoy had known that it would’ve been able to calm him.

Instead, Harry turned away, pretending like he didn’t see anything despite every bone in his body aching to comfort Malfoy. Harry just assumed that would take their progress in friendship back twenty steps, if that's what you even call their relationship. It was rather confusing.

After Malfoy abruptly got up and put on his waistcoat then left, Harry went to the showers to clean himself up. Malfoy already has, he gets up earlier than Harry every single day no matter how hard Harry tries to beat him at this. One time Malfoy caught on to this, and when Harry had gotten up after him like always, he teased him. It was now a recurring joke every so often that they had turned into a game, Malfoy winning every time. Harry pretended to be angry, but he loved it, he loved seeing Malfoy’s face light up every time this happened.

As the water warms up, Harry tries brushing his hands through his messy hair before getting in to make it easier to wash. Though as everyday, his hair was too fussy to go the way Harry liked. He wondered how soft Malfoy's hair would feel. He definitely would be able to run his hands through it without getting caught.

The now hot water ran across his rough body, and this is why Harry loved the showers at Hogwarts. Unlike the Dursleys, time was pretty much unlimited, as well as the heat. He was only allowed to take cold, short showers there. But here, here he could really enjoy his time, soaking in the shower, allowing the heat to relieve tense muscles that were always there, even after the war. He thought peace promised him to stop being so tense, but he was wrong. Wrong about many things.

—

Pansy and Malfoy were awfully close. Yes, Harry has mentioned that to Malfoy so many times and Malfoy said, ‘We are just friends Potter, you pervert!’ though for some reason this didn’t settle Harry’s stomach. His friends used to call this obsession, but this year there was no reason for that. None but one, and Harry didn’t like to go thinking about that. What would Hermione and Ron think, if he ever got the chance to speak to them.

Blimey they’d tell him he’s obsessed! Harry’s not obsessed, just curious about the people around him and their lives. Yes, with Luna he was curious about who had her blushing within the letters she received, maybe not as much interested as he was with Malfoy’s life, but that was because he was a bloody bully for every year at Hogwarts. No way Harry could be jealous. If he was, it was best to blame it on the fact that Malfoy had more of a love-life than Harry had. That was it.

Though the more Harry stares at Malfoy sitting with his group, he picks up details that make blood rush to his head, he knows he is blushing as he thinks this. As he does, he cannot stop staring at his light eyelashes, his grey eyes and his pink lips. Harry wonders how it would feel, he assumes it would be soft.

Ron started waving his hand in front of Harry as he was talking. He had to redirect his attention and focus back to the present. “Harry, are you going to touch your food? Class starts in ten minutes and I’ll bloody need you in there as my partner. I am sure you finished the assigned questions he had given us.”

“Oh Ron, you didn’t finish it? At this point why do I even bother putting faith in you that you learned to do your work.” Hermione placed her palm on her forehead, sighing as she did as Ron frowns and shrugs his shoulder.

Harry hurries with his breakfast, practically inhaling it before Hermione pushes him up to head to class with Ron. Hermione hadn’t come to potions today, as she and only a few selected others had a field trip to an excellent wizarding contest in arithmancy, why she was excited Ron will never know. Though he tried to, for Hermione’s sake. He was happy at this opportunity for her, it would look good to anyone looking to hire. With this she could practically be guaranteed a nice job in the future, after Hogwarts.

“Goodbye Hermione, goodluck I hope you win!” Harry says enthusiastically before giving her and Ron some space. “Meet you in potions. By the way I hadn’t finished the work either so we’re both going down.” Harry pats Ron’s back before turning away, leaving Ron’s jaw agape. Harry smiles to himself.

Just before the professor gets there, Ron sneaks in right beside him. “It’s okay Ron, she will be back for dinner.” Though Harry knew he didn’t look upset for that reason.

“Bugger off, I wish Hermione was here with her potions workbook.”

“Me too.” Harry just nudges Ron, and everyone silences as Slughorn comes through the door. The class goes on but Harry looks at Malfoy every now and then, making sure he is okay after the state he saw him in this morning.

Malfoy stared ahead, looking at nothing in particular and this seemed to make Harry’s heart drop. He hated this sight, not of Malfoy, Malfoy was a handsome bloke, though the distressing part was that Malfoy looked plagued, and he wanted to make Malfoy feel better.

He tried paying attention in all of his classes, but he couldn’t. He just kept thinking of Malfoys troubled state and by lunch time, he was happy Ron, Seamus, and Dean talked about an upcoming event, Hallowe’en event. Ron begged Harry to agree to coming, so finally he succumbed to agreeing. Seamus thought of doing many games, and lots of drinking. They were all eighteen at this point so going to Hogsmaede and visiting Aberforth sounded like a very fun idea. Harry wondered if Malfoy would come if he asked him to.

“Will any Slytherins be coming?” Harry said abruptly, while Ron and Seamus were in a discussion.

“It would be splendid the more people come! Ask Malfoy and see if his friends would want to come.”

Ron just groans at this but, nonetheless, agrees that it would be a great chance to see any of Malfoys friends get pissed. Harry laughs along, glancing again at Malfoy. He was quietly eating with Parkinson, Zabini and Greengrass. They all were speaking except Malfoy, and at this Parkinson nudged him. Immediately Malfoy stares up at Harry, and at this Harry has to lower his grabby eyes. Harry could feel the blush hit his cheeks, and at this Harry just says he swallowed the tea wrong. Coughing to make it believable.

As Harry leaves his last class, transfiguration, and heads down a secluded, hidden stairwell no one really went to. As he did, he saw Malfoy on the ground as another, younger student was whispering to him, harshly. The child then proceeds to kick Malfoys stomach while Malfoy just sits there, doing nothing.

Harry knew he shouldn’t be there, so he turned back, feeling guilt poke at him for whatever reason. Though, he instantly regrets it a few minutes later. He didn’t want to keep ignoring Malfoy’s pain. And right now he stops thinking so much and cares no more that it’s Malfoy and he shouldn’t be running after him, so right after classes he rushes into their shared room as he knows Malfoy mainly only studies in there rather than the library. He prefers less of a crowd.

“Potter! What are you doing here so early?” Malfoy looked up in confusion at Harry, who was breathless.

“I have stopped caring so much about what I am expected to do instead of what I want to do. I care, Draco, even if you don’t think I do, I do. Even if I am not supposed to, I care. I care too much if anything!” He pauses, Harry doesn’t know what he is really saying, just that his heart is beating too damn fast. He was here to comfort him, not admit to whatever feelings Harry had that even he himself did not know what those feelings were. “I don’t want anyone to come after you, you don’t deserve it. You’ve changed. I saw what that kid did, why didn’t you do anything back?”

Draco just stays still for a while, searching Harry Potter's eyes. He stared at Harry as if he were stupid at that moment. “I think you know what will happen if I do. I will be right beside my father in Azkaban,” Draco carried on bitterly, "and what made you suddenly care for my well being?”. Harry ignores that question, because truly he doesn’t know why he started caring so much. Has he always cared like this?

“Then you should at least tell someone! The headmistress will be happy to help, I am sure of it.” One thing was for sure, Harry’s feelings for Draco were complicated and confusing, but at this moment he never wanted to hold him so badly. “Please, at least tell me if anyone bothers you. They shouldn’t.” Harry steps forward, to Draco as he sits at the edge of his bed. Draco doesn’t stop him. He goes further, and sits right next to Draco.

“Look at me, if this ever happens again I want you to talk to me, to tell me, to call me immediately before anything further happens. I want you to go to the Headmistress tomorrow morning.” Harry reaches for Draco's hand, and Draco allows him to take it. He unravels his palms and accepts Harry’s hand and even squeezes it.

“I will.” They sit there for a few minutes, not moving. Harry pays attention to his own breathing, trying to calm down. He was holding Draco’s hand, it was no big deal.

“Stay with me.” Harry catches his breath. Did he hear that right?

“If you seriously care about me you’d stay here in my bed tonight.” Harry looks up, blushing and taken aback by what Draco had just said. When he saw his face, his smirk, he knew Draco was mainly teasing.

“Fine, just because your bed is so soft and you are practically begging me too.” Harry responds, quickly gaining his confidence back. He reciprocates Dracos smirk, and at that Draco rolls his eyes.

“I want to see you keep that statement after dinner.” Draco gets up after this, pink lining his ears. Harry wondered if Draco was actually serious, and at this moment he thought he wasn’t just joking. He’ll see tonight, he just has to be patient.

—

When Hermione comes back right before dinner, she can clearly see that Harry is not paying attention to anything. It’s almost as if Hermione could look right through him. All Harry could think about is tonight, if Draco was serious, how would Harry be calm, how could he even focus on anything right now?

“Did Slughorn beat you for not completing your work or what?” Hermione towers over Harry as he coughs and tries to get out of his thoughts.

“Actually, Harry has been quite distracted all day. Though even more so now.” Ron replies for Harry.

“I have not been distracted! I’m just tired.”

“I would be too if I had to room with Malfoy. Has he hexed you yet?” Ron looks over at Harry, raising his eyebrows as if he expects Harry to be hexed at that very moment.

“What? No. Malfoy has nothing to do with this!” Draco had everything to do with Harry’s distractions. He just could not stop thinking about him, no matter how hard he had tried.

“It’s just, you acted similarly in sixth year, I wouldn’t be surprised Malfoy had been root to your focus.” Hermione just shakes her head. “You need to get your potions work finished pr Slughorn is actually going to punish you.”

Hermione was right, he had to get it done, even if he was thinking of Draco the whole time. There were fifteen minutes left for dinner, but Hermione made him start working now anyways. Because ‘time is valuable’ or whatever sort. Harry just rolls his eyes then laughs at Ron because he is also being forced into this by Hermione.

By the time dinner comes, Harry is actually almost done with his workbook for potions. Hermione made sure he kept focused on it, and she did a good job too. Helping him out whenever he was stuck. Though every few moments his mind would wander to studying with Draco. He wanted to study some more with Draco after dinner, if he could face him without the embarrassing thoughts of sharing his bed due to Draco possibly being serious.

Throughout the whole dinner, like lunch and breakfast, Harry continues to keep glancing at Draco, and sometimes he glances back and smirks so slightly that no one except Harry could have possibly noticed.

Harry attempts to pay attention to the topic Hermione and Ron were discussing, one of Hallowe’en. Hermione tells Ron not to have as much firewhiskey as he had last time they went drinking, and Harry hardly remembers that night, only remembering the morning Ron complaining and swearing he will never drink again. He forgot how horrible that hangover was, and was definitely planning on getting pissed again. Hermione just sighs at this before smiling at Ron.

Harry leaves Ron and Hermione to whatever they were going to do, and heads for his own room. If Draco wasn’t there, he would start on his other work, leaving the last bit of his potions for a reason to ask Draco for help. Harry wasn’t sure why he did, but Draco was extraordinary at potions and it was a good way for Harry to excel at that subject. Or, at the least, pass with an exceptional mark.

To be honest, he hadn’t cared so much after all. He didn’t necessarily want to become an Auror, contrary to many people's expectations. He actually didn’t know what he wanted to become afterall.

Like Harry thought, Draco wasn’t there quite yet so he sat on his bed, beginning other assigned work. Once he got into focus, everything else was pretty much drowned out. He barely registered when Draco came in, until he had spoken up.

“I am assuming now that I am here you are going to ask stupid questions about the work on potions.”

Harry finally looks up, a little surprised, and before he can respond Draco sits on his bed with his notebooks and motions for Harry to go over there. He does, bringing his work along with him, and sits down next to Draco. As usual, he helps him with potions, whilst discussing other classes. When Harry asks Draco for some of his notes on herbology, Dracos cold hand brushes against Harry’s, making Harry’s breath catch.

As the time passes, and Harry gets sleepy, he remembers Draco's words earlier. Right before he asks Draco about it, he saves him the embarrassment.

“You still care enough to actually sleep in my bed?” Draco challenges, whilst smirking.

“I am a gryffindor after all, and a sucker for how soft this mattress is.” Harry wasn’t going to back down on Draco after he made it a clear challenge to see if Harry actually went through with it or not.

Harry changed into his sleepwear, actually self-conscious about it, the whole thing. But Harry was not going to back down first, Draco would have to be the first in order for Harry to win this challenge.

Harry returns to Draco already in his nightwear, silk dark-green of course. He moves to allow space for Harry. So Draco was not backing down. Harry was fine by this. So there he went to lay down next to him, and immediately was set with relaxation and comfort at Dracos soft and silky bed sheets. He now knew why Draco must get up so early, great sleep was guaranteed. Though this set another question, how could Draco get out of bed so easily.

Harry lay stiff, turned away from Draco and aware of every bone and muscle in his body. He wonders if Draco can feel his heartbeat. Beside him, he feels Draco move. Wordless spell to get rid of the light.

Now they lay in the dark, and Harry is conscious of everything around him. He feels Draco shift. He clears his throat.

“You meant what you said? You care?” Malfoy’s voice is unsure, even shaky.

“No I don’t care I said all that stuff for no reason,” Harry breathes sarcastically, then turns to Draco. “Of course I did, why else would I be here? Your past doesn’t define who you are now, and you should know that Draco.”

Draco's eyes widen before he speaks up, “You’ve been saying my name.”

It was at this point, Harry realized Malfoy had turned to Draco.

“Yes, I have, Draco.” He repeats, smiling as Draco lays there, jaw opened. “Do you have a problem with it?”

“No I don’t, Harry.” Draco tries out his name, and it sounds surreal coming from Draco’s mouth. Harry liked it. Without thinking, Harry moves a strand of hair in Draco’s eyes, pausing hesitantly before pulling his hand away.

Before Harry has the chance to pull away, Draco’s hand goes up to his, and he grasps Harry’s hand, intertwining their fingers. Harry knew where the jealousy arose, he knew why he got so flustered around Draco, why he had cared so much about him. Harry was falling in love, too fast.

All their studying together, games, jokes, teasing, Harry was too far in to ignore these feelings by now. So he swallows his cowardice, and leans in tentatively. He pauses, to see if Draco’s eyes hold the answer to Harry. Draco then leans in the rest of the way, lightly pressing his soft lips onto Harry’s. So that’s how it feels to kiss him.

Harry’s free hand moves up to Draco’s hair, combing through the softness. He pulls Draco in more, as their kiss turns from tenderness to passionate. Draco grabs onto Harry’s hips under the cover, whilst still holding hands. It felt surreal.

It held more feeling than with Cho or Ginny’s, which is why Harry wanted to hold onto this moment for so long. But he knew air was important, and that they both needed to sleep. Which is why he pulls apart, slowly.

“Was that okay?” Harry asks, between breaths.

“Yes, welcome anytime scarhead.” Draco teases before messing with Harry’s already messy mop of hair. He smiles at him, and it might’ve been the most genuine smile he ever saw Draco give. “Goodnight, Harry.”

“Goodnight, Draco.”

—

The next morning Harry woke with Draco clinging onto his arm, still asleep. Harry woke up first, and this felt rewarding. Harry glanced at Draco again, imagining the look on Draco’s face when he will see that Harry woke up before him. He looked so peaceful when he was asleep, face rested and no muscle tension. It was perfect, seeing Draco there, holding onto Harry’s arm. Harry was practically panicking inside, what would happen when Draco wakes? He knew he should wake him up now.

Harry attempted pulling his arm away, but sleep Draco was holding onto it hard. He wouldn’t be able to move away without waking him. Also the fact that Draco took up the majority of the bed, leaving Harry no room to back away anyways. Forget waking up first, he needed to calm his breathing and get away from Draco so he could recollect himself.

“Draco.” Harry tries whispering, when that doesn’t work he shakes his arm. “Draco, wake up.”

Finally, Draco stirs, and wakes up. At first, he pulls Harry’s arm in, clinging to it even more before regaining consciousness. Then he pulls away and moves down the bed. His face turns shades darker, and he clears his throat.

“We won’t speak of that. Ever.” Draco says only that before burying his head in the pillow. At this, Harry chuckles and throws the other pillow on top of him. Draco lays still, till Harry gives up and puts his guards down. Exactly what Draco wanted, as now he took this moment to bombard Harry not only with a pillow, but his own body weight.

“Gotcha now scarhead.” Draco says while looking down on Harry.

“You’re only upset I finally woke up before you.” Harry smirks, eyes squinting at Draco. As he reaches for his glasses to get a better view Draco moves in and suffocates him, with his lips.

—

“Harry, you look like you’re far away from this dimension. As if Merlin took you.” Hermione states as Harry secretly passes Draco another smile this breakfast.

“What, no!” Harry shakes his head as Ron sighs.

“Bloody hell what’s with you this morning? Finally got snogged this year?” Ron’s face is mocking but his guess is not far-fetched, Harry could say.

“What? That’s absurd, where did that come from?” Harry tries to regain his heartbeat as he gets utterly embarrassed.

“You look like Ron did after we finally kissed,” Hermione says matter of factly, “who was it?”

“What? It was- it was no one.” Harry tries his hardest to get himself out of this situation, but he practically just dug himself his own grave when he looked right at Draco after denying that. To help Harry’s case, Draco smiled at him and Hermione and Ron saw this.

“Oh bugger me, Harry.” Ron looks physically ill, and Hermione just snorted in shock.

“No, it’s not-”

“We can tell when you lie Harry.” Hermione interrupts Harry, then just shakes her head while chuckling.

“As long as you’re happy mate.” Ron says, still visibly ill.

Their laughs and conversation had come to an end as classes began, day carrying on as per usual. Though when Harry got back to his dorm to see Draco, he wasn't there.

—

Harry waited but still, no Draco. Dread started to fill Harry, and the only thing Harry could do was go to headmistress.

—

Harry felt like all the happiness got sucked out of him by dementors. Ron and Hermione accompanied him to Wizengamot, but Harry felt alone and out of it. Draco did nothing wrong, there was so much proof he did nothing wrong! There were witnesses to attest to that!

The ministry of magic didn’t care. Draco Malfoy was a death-eater, his father was locked away in Azkaban, his grandfather followed evil as well. They thought it was in his blood and that Draco never felt sorry. He did, and Harry knew that, and was mad at anyone who didn’t know that.

As soon as he heard that Draco was arrested and taken to court, Harry rushed after him. He was going to testify, surely they would listen to him because he was the damn one who saved the world from voldemort!

When Harry entered, he saw Draco chained up and the rest of the room washed away. It was just Draco there, in Harry’s eyes. He tried running up but something stopped him from doing so, he focused in. He shouted.

“Let me testify!” And so Harry went on and on, trying to explain the situation to everyone there in the courtroom. Harry couldn’t even hear his own words come out of his mouth. He just hoped everyone else could.

In the end, Draco was put in a cage till the court decided what to do with him. No matter how hard Harry pleaded, they would not let him go tonight.

Now Harry sat on the cold hard floor in the cold dark room in front of the bars keeping Draco in. He was able to hold Draco’s cold hands through the bars, and that was all that mattered at this moment. This small contact.

“I told you to tell someone, to go to me! You didn’t tell the headmistress when you said you would. I tried to warn you, and you didn’t listen.” Harry searched Draco’s eyes for anything.

“I was going to, but I felt like a coward. Like no one would care” Draco looks down helplessly at their interlocked fingers through the bars.

“You are anything but a coward Draco, and I know that. Look,” Dracos grey eyes meet Harry’s at once. “I wouldn’t be here if I did not care for you, Mcgonnagal wouldn’t have taken me here if she didn’t care. Hell, Ron and Hermione even!”

A tear fell to their hands, Harry didn’t know if it was Draco’s or his own. It didn’t matter. All Harry wanted was to hold Draco in this moment.

Note: I was super sick while writing this, and it took over the span of many days and discarded work that I still have yet to do. And don’t worry, they agree and set Draco free again, after Harry’s multiple pleads. I honestly should’ve started writing for whumptober in the first week of september but oh well, a challenge isn’t a challenge without blood sweat and tears :’)

[lander64]

Finished reading the Wings of Fire guide book! Gonna give some overall thoughts.

I went in knowing it was going to be a lot of information we already knew with a few new story’s here and there. So I wasn’t personally disappointed as others were. Pretty much all of the old information was expanded upon enough for it to still be interesting, however the new information is the absolute highlight of the guide.

For the most part, each section is roughly the same in quality. Thankfully, that quality was quite high. I’d rather read the main books ofc, but the guide is still good. However, there were a few weaker moments. The Sandwing section started out strong, but fell off by the end and the Rainwing section was pretty dull overall. I also wish there was less of a focus on the lives of royal dragons and more on the lives of the commoners. The Seawing section particularly suffers from this. Not that there weren’t good stories in there focused on royalty, the Mudwing section has a great one at the end, for instance.

The art is phenomenal. It’s absolute eye candy, even the small drawings in some of the stories are super cute. Id recommend going to look at some of the art even if you have no interest in the book itself.

Overall, I’d say that the guidebook is a stronger whole then the sum of it parts, but a high recommendation if you’re a WoF fan. If number ratings mean anything to you, then it’s a solid 7/10.

Under the read more is some specific details that I thought was interesting. Quite a few spoilers in there so be warned.

- Sepia is funny definitely a new favourite

- the Mudwing succession story was really good. I liked the expansion of Mudwing royalty it presented and It had a nice twist at the end

- Queen Coral sections are surprisingly funny, I loved reading the blurbs of her stories gave me a good chuckle

- the font used in Fin’s letter (as well as Fierceteeth’s later on in the book) was super hard to read for me. That’s probably because I read a scan on my phone screen, so I’ll see how it looks in the actual book

- Kinkajou’s story was, interesting. Makes me happy we didn’t get a book about her in arc 2, I cannot imagine myself still liking Kinkajou if we did tbh

- honestly the Rainwing section as a whole was pretty lacking for me. Really only the last bit with Queen Jackranda got me intrigued but not as much as other stories in other sections

- Mastermind interview was neat, but could of been better

- Despite being a hassle to read, the Fierceteeth letter was really cool. I hope we see more of the small village they’ve set up in future material

- Getting some more information on Burn’s weirdling collection was pretty neat. I like the confirmation that the wing seen there was a Silkwing’s. It’s pretty intriguing how just the wing washed up to shore, I would of thought it’d be parallel to how Luna arrived. But instead of being helped, this unfortunate Silkwing would of be murdered

- Unfortunately over half of the Sandwing section was taken up by Smolder’s diary of taking care of Flower, which I wasn’t interested in at all and only read the first bit before skipping. Shame cause the Sandwing section was shaping up to be my favourite part of the book

- Mink’s letter was cute

- Was expecting the Icewing section to only focus on royalty like the Seawing or Sandwing sections, but Caribou’s letter was a pleasant surprise

- Super cool how there’s an actual Skywing anthem that you can play. I’m not really a musician or anything of the sort, and I did admittedly skim through it, but still very cool

- Skywing section should of been renamed the Queen Scarlet section. Tailwind’s story was great and a real highlight of the guide, might even my favourite story

- I wish less of the Silkwing section was about the rules that Silkwings follow. I would of preferred more parts akin to the Queen Monarch message

- I wonder if the honey drop recipe is good, I’d try it myself but I don’t think I have the ingredients for it

- The list of the Hives was neat, it’s nice to have a little paragraph of information on each of them

- Book of Clearsight excerpts was cute, I could see a small book just detailing more of the future reading

- Leafwing’s detailing their favourite books was charming

- I’ve realised I don’t really have much to say about the Pantalian sections. They aren’t bad at all, I’m just not as invested in them

- Very happy the Scavenger section was so small. I don’t think I could of forced myself through that

- Favourite section was the Skywings, least favourite was Rainwings

[flutteringfable]

cake recipe jumpscare >:3

my current favorite dessert to make!! its super easy and very yummy

you’re gonna need:

probably a hand mixer, depending on the cake base you make. i usually use a store brand one which requires beating the ingredients, which is why i mentioned the mixer XD

pan (any size, i usually use a 9x13)

boxed strawberry cake (or if you’re feeling fancy you can make the base yourself >:3)

whatever ingredients you need to make said boxed cake (usually eggs, water, and oil, but it’ll tell you on the box if you need something different)

condensed milk

whipped cream (in the tub thing not the can, though i guess you could use the can? i haven’t tried it)

and frozen strawberries. usually just one bag will do!

steps:

make the boxed cake/cake base. that’s literally all the first step is XD, just follow the instructions on the box and make it as usual. i like to set out the strawberries to thaw a bit while i’m mixing the ingredients and baking it.

let the cake cool for a few minutes (not completely), then poke holes in the top (i like to use the end of a small wooden spoon, but anything small-ish will do. we need the holes to be large enough to soak in the condensed milk, but not super big)

pour condensed milk over the top of the cake, making sure to fill the holes you made. it’ll soak into the cake and make it super sweet and soft!

let the cake cool completely, then add whipped cream on top. you don’t have to cover the entire top, but cover as much as you can. if you do this when the cake is still warm, it’ll melt, so make sure the cake is cool enough before adding it lol.

put the frozen strawberries on top of the whipped cream

and tada! cake time!! :3 it usually tastes best the next day, after the condensed milk has completely soaked in, but it’s still yummy regardless!

if you have any questions, let me know! i try really hard to be as detailed and helpful as possible, but i may have explained something weirdly idk lol.

[kahayaya]

04/07/2023

Wow its been a while since almost a year ago.

A lot has changed the past year and there’s lots of ground to cover that I don’t think I can encapsulate within this post. So I’ll do my best to highlight what is on the top of my head today.

Why diary now?

Well figured do a little check with myself and I wanted to jot down my thoughts. Its kind of random but felt like today is a good day to write down my updates.

Work

Big things with work. As of December 2023, I have converted Full Time with my job and no longer under contract. I would say a huge thing as I did technically get a pay raise but since I’m now working under California, I get taxed. So roughly I take home the same amount from my contract, with slightly more. Work overall is not bad. Definitely feels like I’m doing my job and ever so slowly learning new things. I’ve gotten the understanding of what I should be doing and I can do it quick without asking for much help. So now I’m just working on another project that is related to ETL work and my work is a lot quicker than last year. I feel very competent at what I’m doing but looking forward, I want to see how I can progress within the software engineering world. For now I have planned to finish the project I’m working on and do a self check in on if I can move either forward with another project that is more lead by me or find another medium for a job. So time wise, i’d say another year.

Social Life

Life has been good to me recently. I took a quick peek at my last post and the title was loneliness. Through that rest of the year, I was lucky to stumble across friends that are mutual with Daniel from USF. I’ve played a lot of video games with them and got to know them better. They are all LA based and are from there. There have been numerous times where I have went to LA that had raves that we went to or a little hangout spot before I went to Vegas. Last december I went to Lake Tahoe with some of them. Last week some of them came up to SF to hangout and we also went to Napa for wine tasting. I’ve also hung out more with Carmen and her little, Josh. They are probably the closest thing to having people in proximity that I can ask to hangout with. I’ve also got to meet some of Josh’s mutuals and they are pretty cool to hang with. Kass has also left to HK for her work and this happened in October. We still keep in touch every now and then but she is coming back for her birthday in September. Looking forward to that. Aside from that, I’ve also learned to find new things to do own my own so I don’t rely on others to have my social fun. Recently I’ve been cooking at home, which is really fun and takes my mind off of the boredom. With the cooking, I have brought it to friends to try and that also revolved around my social meetings with friends. It makes me feel cook to cook for myself and for others to try my cooking. They really like the cooking so it makes me feel good. So as of today I’ve been exploring new recipes to cook and have been making Joshua Weissman’s recipes. A very fun way to cook and the recipes make me understand ingredient use and ways of cooking. There still more for me to explore and sometime this week I wanted to try making tiramisu. 

Family:

My dad recently got surgery. That went well and I went back to vegas to help around. He’s walking around and he said the pain is not there. But now my mom is going surgery and its p big. My brother is planning to go back and assist with my family. So I hope all goes well with my mom’s surgery. My brother is also expecting a child, so Im going to be an uncle. Exciting. Weird to think but looking forward to being an uncle. 

Also gonna wrap up as I have to do things but thought I’d note of things in life but today is going well. IDK when I’ll post again but maybe a big life change.

Cheers

[wearethepotemkin]

Julia Child's Aigo Bouido [Garlic Soup] from Mastering the Art of French Cooking

Today I’m going to make Julia Child’s Garlic Soup from Mastering the Art of French Cooking. Mine is the 40th Anniversary Edition. They’re into the 50th now.

Julia says that

because the garlic is boiled, its after-effects are at a minimum, and its flavor becomes exquisite, aromatic, and almost indefinable. Along the Mediterranean an aigo bouido is considered to be very good indeed for the liver, blood circulation, general physical tone, and spiritual health. (40th Anniversary Edition p 46-47)

Well, I could use some tone and spiritual health, so let’s get going.

With the garlic, the actual first listed ingredient, I run into my first big question – yes, the garlic part of the garlic soup throws the first wrench. She says “one separated head or approx. 16 cloves of garlic.” So I haven’t counted a store bought head of garlic in a while, and I’m using homegrown. Store bought will be softneck, I’m using hardneck, looks like a Chesnock Red or Russian Red, but my row markers all washed out. And my cloves are ENORMOUS, like one head of garlic will be 5 cloves, and they’re all quite big. So I’m using 1-1/2 heads, it’s 9 cloves, and weighs 2.8 oz (before peeling). Or maybe 3 more making it two whole heads? Julia says “A head of garlic is not at all too much for 2 quarts of soup. For some addicts, it’s not even enough” (47) so maybe I should do 2 heads?

Julia, how big was your garlic??

Ok, I’m doing 2 heads, 12 cloves, 3.7 oz. Am I gonna regret it? Probably, I regret most things. Have I ever regretted using too much garlic? Not to the best of my recollection, your honor.

I have to assume that the changes in quality, type, clove size, freshness of the garlic itself could have a huge impact on the flavor of this recipe. This is probably a great tester of garlic harvests and varieties, so if you’re growing your own garlic, or buying from your local growers or farmers markets, this could be a good first recipe to try to assess a new variety.

Julia wants me to drop the cloves into boiling water, boil for 30 seconds, drain, run under cold water, and peel.

Done.

Other ingredients have been gathered.

Added all of the following: water, salt, pepper, cloves, sage (mine is old, so I’m doubling what Julia says) bay leaf, parsley sprigs, first 3 T olive oil to a 3-quart saucepan (I’m using my big ole dutch oven, though Julia says use a 3-quart saucepan, but mine is ugly and non-stick, and the coating is failing, plus I think it will be prettier in the white enameled lining.)

Bring to a boil, and simmer slowly for 30 minutes.

By which time the gigantic cloves of garlic were still very much not soft, so I would say simmer until your garlic is cooked through, because you’re going to have to push it through a sieve, and you can’t do that if it is still crunchy, needs to be something where you can, like, smoosh it easily with a fork.

Taste, burn the fuck out of your tongue, wonder why you are this way, sulk, ice tongue. Keep simmering.

And here I had to let the soup sit in the pot for several hours because Luke’s saxophone repair tech called, and he had to go pick up his horn. But I think that’s ok because Julia said “when you are ready to serve…” you do the part where you beat the egg yolks and dribble in oil like you’re making mayo, which suggests that the soup can wait at this stage until it is ready to serve. So it did. But it also meant I could taste it for seasoning without burning my tongue, and make a cocktail that uses one of the egg whites I didn’t use.

Maybe I’ll do a Mr Boston Bartender’s Guide drink-along series. Tell me what you think in the comments. Oh wait, no one is reading this. Drink I shall.

The cocktail was a disappointment.

Ok, so the next step is to essentially make a mayonnaise in your serving bowl. Whip the egg yolks, then slowly add the remaining olive oil, just whip whip, dribble dribble, until you’ve added 3T (which was plenty). Then add a ladelfull of the soup into your fine mesh strainer over your tureen or serving bowl. You need to do the first ladelfull then whip it up a bit still to stabilize it. After that you you can add the rest of the soup, pushing it through the sieve, mashing up all that good garlic, and use a bowl scraper to get all the bits that have pushed through the sieve.

Served with the cheese and toasted baguette slices. Luke buttered ours, and added Maldon salt, which was a nice touch. Undersalting the soup a little, and letting the salt on the bread compensate was perfect.

The soup is smooth and lovely, a light buttery yellow, and what I ended up using was not too much garlic by any means. If you’re a fan, I would say go with two heads of garlic, or 3-4 oz, but mileage will vary depending on variety or type of garlic. I can see cutting the olive oil in the soup to 2T, esp considering you’re adding another 3 for serving, but 3 in the soup plus another 4 in the egg emulsion may be too much for some.

Toward that, and moving forward, Julia says of the cookbooks in her introduction to the 40th edition:

You will note this indulgence here, especially in sauces, where you can reduce them with cream or where you swirl in fresh butter a generous tablespoon at a time to render them smooth, shining and luscious. I have not changed any of these original proportions or directions, because this is the way the dishes were conceived. However, do use your own judgement as to how much or how little of the enrichments you care to use, since the amounts will not interfere with the basic recipe. In my case, for instance, I have been known to substitute a modest teaspoon for the generous tablespoon. (xv)

So I don’t know what mixing an extra Tablespoon into the “mayonnaise” mixture would have done, but it was not necessary for the soup to hold together. As you can see in the pic of the finished spoonful of soup at the very bottom, the droplets of fat are well dispersed and plentiful. I suspect that is an area in which one could skimp.

Plan for at least 2T of cheese per bowl, and a bit more could be offered. Is the cheese necessary at all? Probably not.

(Confirmed, heated up 2 days later gently in the microwave. The soup did not separate, and I served it with no cheese, just some crumbled stale ass leftover baguette, and it was still delicious.)

This is a lovely, bright luncheon soup, on a rainy day, or a delightful starter course. I can see adding potatoes or poached eggs to bulk it up and make it a more substantial meal. It’s a lot like the buttery broth you soak up from the bottom of a bowl of steamed mussels or clams.

Also, this soup was incredibly inexpensive and simple to make. This really felt like making something out of nothing. Getting it going on the stove took almost nothing, and the only real labor was whisking the egg emulsion in the end, so a bit of energy right before serving, and a very warming and satisfying reward.

Julia Child’s Aigo Bouido [Garlic Soup] from Mastering the Art of French Cooking

For 6-8 people (makes 2 quarts of soup)

Ingredients

1 separated head or about 16 cloves whole, unpeeled garlic (3-1/2 oz was not too much)

2 quarts water 2 tsp salt Pinch of pepper 2 cloves ¼ tsp sage ½ bay leaf 4 parsley sprigs 3 Tb olive oil

3-4 Tb more olive oil (a candy squeeze bottle made this easier) 3 egg yolks

Rounds of hard-toasted French bread 1 cup of grated Swiss or Parmesan cheese

Equipment

3-quart saucepan, or bigger (my dutch oven was fine) wire whip soup tureen (or 2+ quart serving bowl if, like me, your tureen was too small) fine-mesh strainer strong-ass wooden spoon bowl scraper candy squeeze bottle for olive oil (optional)

Instructions

Blanch the unpeeled cloves of garlic in boiling water for 30 seconds, drain, run under cold water and peel.

Gather water, salt, pepper, cloves, peeled garlic, parsley, sage, bay leaf (just half a bay leaf now, don’t go crazy unless you’re driving (I see you, Jaime), and 3T olive oil, and simmer gently for 30 minutes — or until garlic is softened. (If your garlic cloves are GIGANTIC, like mine were, it may need more. I left mine on a gently simmer for 60 minute.) Taste, and correct seasoning as needed.

Beat the yolks in [your serving vessel] for a minute until they are thick and sticky. Drop by drop, beat in the olive oil as for making mayonnaise.

Just before serving, beat a ladlefull of hot soup (it’s soup now!!) into the egg mixture by droplets. Gradually strain in the rest, beating and pressing the juice out of the garlic.

Serve immediately, accompanied by the bread and the cheese. (It’ll be 2-2.5T of cheese per serving. We floated a couple slices of bread in each bowl, and served another 2 on the side. Worked quite well.)

 Citation

Child, Julia, Louisette Bertholle, and Simone Beck. Mastering the Art of French Cooking. 1961. 40th Anniversary ed., Knopf, 2009.

[galactic-magick]

Hey dear! I really love your works on dmitri❤️

Can i request headcanons where: reader and dmitri living together in america (yeah I'm getting inspired by this post of yours) and some Hawkins dude discriminates against Dmitri for being Russian or the reader who has "a communist in their house", during their usual outing together. But the reader is immediately ready to take Dmitri's defense and give that dude a piece of their mind.

((so sorry in advance if I accidentally got the grammar of gender-neutral pronouns wrong, unfortunately English is not my native language))

First of all thank you so much! Glad to see I'm attracting other Dmitri fans to my blog haha!

This will basically be a part 2 to my first headcanon fic about him :)

Have a Stranger Things request? Read this!

you still haven't admitted your interest in each other officially, but there's definitely something there that you can both feel at this point

even though it's still unspoken, Dmitri really wants to do something for you to show you how thankful he is for everything you've done for him

so one day he offers to make dinner for you, suggesting he could make a family recipe from back in Russia

you enthusiastically except the kind offer and you both head to the store to get ingredients

some of the stuff he needs there isn't an exact equivalent to what's available there but you try to get the closest thing

he uses a lot of his native language when pointing to the ingredients on the shelves and mumbling to himself when recalling what he needs

unfortunately one of your nosy neighbors who also happens to be in the store overhears your conversation, you've noticed him watching you and Dmitri from his front porch whenever you're outside lately so it's not surprising he comes up to you

"I knew something was going on!" he exclaims. "Did you really think you could bring a commie into your house and nobody would notice?"

"Leave us alone, George," you roll your eyes and try to walk away.

"You're a traitor to our country. I don't want someone like him living anywhere near me,"

"Then move away," you give him a passive aggressive smile.

he keeps following you even when you try to get away, so you grab Dmitri's hand and turn back around.

"You know what?" you point a finger at your ridiculous neighbor. "You can shut your fucking mouth. Dmitri is one of the kindest men I have ever met in my life and I don't give a shit where he came from, and you shouldn't either. I know you're too much of a coward to actually report him anyway, so you're gonna leave us alone, got that? And maybe face the fact for once that your hatred for others makes you such a blinded asshole that you can't see how good the people you hate can be,"

he doesn't say a thing after that, and you storm off with Dmitri towards the checkout

Dmitri has probably never been as attracted to you as he is in that moment

his heart is warm because you stood up for him so ferociously

he wonders if he should tell you how he really feels tonight over dinner, but he’s still scared

your house has become a true home, and he doesn’t want to mess that up

he makes you the meal and you love it of course

but he still hasn’t properly thanked you for what you did

“You did not have to say all of that for me today,” he says. “I do appreciate it,”

You smile, “You’re very welcome. I’ve been waiting for a reason to go off on that guy anyway, he’s always been a jerk,”

“I do not understand why you have been so kind to me,”

“Oh, shush, Dmitri. I’m so happy I met you and you’re the best roommate I could ask for. There’s literally no reason for me to not like you or be kind to you,”

“So...you enjoy having me around?”

“I love having you around!” you take his hand across the table. “Do I not act like I do?”

“I just wanted to make sure before I...” his gaze bounces around your features.

“Before what-”

he then leans in and gives you a quick kiss, cutting off your question

he didn’t think he was going to make a move right then, but he just went for it

you gasp a bit, but it quickly turns into a grin

“Well if you keep doing that then I’m going to like having you around even more,”

letting out a sigh of relief from your positive reaction, he doesn’t hesitate to kiss you again and again

[moonstrider9904]

These headcanons were requested by a lovely anon in my askbox—I’m sorry for the technical difficulties leading to the ask being eaten up, I just hope you can see these (and that I remembered the actual request properly) :3

The bad batch making dinner for their SO

Hunter

He learned to cook for this occasion. He’s used to having to worry about pretty much anything except cooking for leisure, so he went around asking anyone he could find who remotely knew how to cook.

Hunter’s a romantic, and his top priority is making sure you enjoy this meal. He investigates what your tastes are. 

He thinks he’s being suave and subtle while doing it, but he’s painfully obvious.

So by this point you already expect he’s cooking dinner for you but you act surprised to please him.

And he nailed it. The dinner smells amazing and it tastes incredible, everything is super tidy, he does the whole three courses, you have a lovely candle-lit dinner, even the kitchen is squeaky clean.

Turns out he made Wrecker clean the kitchen in exchange for a taste of the food.

Crosshair

I will die on the hill that Crosshair loves cooking and that he’s a fantastic cook.

This man doesn’t even have to ask you what your favorite food is. His capabilities of observation allow him to figure this out barely a week into knowing you.

“My place tonight, don’t eat before.”

That’s when you know he’s doing something nice for you and you don’t let him live it down because let’s face it, why date Crosshair if you’re not gonna tease him when he gets soft-

So when the dinner comes: take your favorite food, literally the most delicious thing you’ve ever had.

Multiply it by 1000. That’s how good a cook Crosshair is.

And he can see the way your eyes sparkle as you eat, he knows you love it, and to be honest, he’s just happy that he could do something for you and that he could make you happy.

But of course, he’s a smug little prick about it.

Tech

Research 1000.

He straight up tells you he’ll be cooking dinner for you and asks you what you want. Once he has his answer, he’ll look for at least three different recipes of it, compare and contrast ingredients, and defines a few different formulas.

He will test out the different formulas—he will implode before he wings anything.

Like a true scientist, he calls for two different volunteers to test. These two volunteers are, of course, Wrecker and Omega.

However, they were only there to eat, so in the end he goes to Echo and Crosshair for a valid opinion.

What Tech doesn’t account for is that you’ll love whatever he makes no matter what, so he’s blown away when you share dinner and you love it.

Throughout the dinner, Tech is fascinated by telling you the procedure of how he achieved the dinner.

He’s so happy that you listen to him <3

Wrecker

Wrecker is the master of good tastes in food.

He finds a good way to blend your favorite foods with his favorite foods, and you both wind up with a banquet.

Unlike Hunter, however, the house is a frigging mess by the time he’s done cooking.

But of all the batchers, Wrecker is the only one who includes dessert—also made from scratch, thank you very much.

And after dinner and dessert, prepare for the cuddles.

You both fall asleep on the couch because you ate way too much.

You don’t wake up until the day after and the house is still a frigging mess, but as Wrecker said, “nothing like some leftovers the morning after”

It’s like Mexican Christmas with recalentado

Echo

He’s probably the most romantic man ever.

But he’s also a bit nervous about cooking dinner for you—he wants it to be perfect and he just wants you to have a good time.

He knows Crosshair has experience in the matter, so he asks the marksman to tutor him.

Everything goes smoother than Echo expected, and when the dinner arrives, he’s trying his best not to stare at you to get a look of your reaction.

You tell him over and over how much you love it.

It’s truly the most wonderful thing you’ve ever tasted.

As a little bonus, Omega volunteers to pretend to be a waiter for your fancy dinner. But it’s not for free—Echo agrees to let her eat as much as she wants.

If you’re thinking that’s not something Echo would do because he’s one of the few responsible ones in the batch—it was Crosshair who told her that.

But back to you and Echo, he’s just so happy and grateful that you liked what he cooked.

You spend the whole night holding hands and thanking him.

[justlookfrightened]

Can I Ask You a Question?

Because I was thinking today about how questions that seem settled and hurts that seem healed sometimes come up again, even in loving healthy relationships.

“Hi, honey, I’m home,” Jack chirped as he pushed the front door open.

Sometimes he couldn’t believe this was his life: a berth on a team that welcomed him even after he blindsided them with his coming out last year, a condo that felt more like a home than ever since Bitty moved in permanently, Bitty making something that smelled delicious in the kitchen …

When he was 18, he never thought he’d be allowed to have this.

“In here,” Bitty responded unnecessarily.

Jack headed that way, pausing to drop a kiss on Bitty’s head where he was bent over his laptop on the counter. The laptop, the three saucepans on the stovetop, the mixing bowls stacked in the sink all added up to Bitty trying to perfect a recipe for the cookbook. There were probably three pies in the oven, each with minuscule adjustments in their ingredients. Good thing Marty had that barbecue tonight.

“I’m gonna go shower,” Jack said. “Maybe watch something in the den.”

“Mmm,” Bitty hummed, before he pressed a key and looked up. “I’m sorry. How was the workout?”

“Good,” Jack said. “Back to skating next week.”

“That’s great, sweet pea,” Bitty said, eyes already shifting towards his notes.

“I’ll let you get back to it,” Jack said, hefting his bag on his shoulder.

Once he was clean and comfortable in sweats and a threadbare Samwell T-shirt, he flopped on the couch and started flipping through his streaming queues. It still felt weird to sit and do nothing in the middle of the day, but everyone — the athletic trainers, his personal trainer for the summer, even his therapist — agreed that rest was important.

His stomach rumbled and he remembered food was important, too, but he didn’t want to get in Bitty’s way. Maybe he should get a mini-fridge for the den? That way he could keep some protein shakes in here.

Before he could make up his mind to go look for food, Bitty was coming in with a plate piled with chicken tenders and corn and tomatoes salad.

“I did them up in the air fryer,” Bitty said. “I know you’re hungry after training.”

“Thanks, Bits,” Jack said, accepting the plate and taking a bite out of the top tender. It wasn’t quite the same as a real fried chicken tender, but Bitty used some spice blend that added a little flavor, and they were healthy enough to eat a couple of times a week.

Jack was profoundly grateful that Bitty and Nate had come to an understanding this year.

“Uh, Jack? Can I ask you something?”

Jack set the plate on the coffee table and looked at Bitty, standing near the door, hands twisting in a dish towel. This might be more than wanting him to decide whether the apple pie was better with a half teaspoon or a full teaspoon of nutmeg.

“Sure, bud. What’s up?”

“Promise you won’t be mad?”

Jack took a breath. The first time Bitty was afraid to say something after he moved in was when he took Jack’s car to the market and came out to find a scratch on the door. Jack had been confused; it wasn’t even Bitty’s fault, but even if it had been, it was simple to fix. It had made Jack angry a little — at Bitty’s parents, because he had to learn that fear somewhere, right?

“Of course not,” Jack said. “Whatever it is, we can figure it out.”

“And you won’t laugh?”

“I don’t think so,” Jack said. “Unless you’re going to tell me a joke?”

That weak attempt at humor fell flat, as Bitty’s gaze fell to the towel in his hands.

“It’ll be fine,” Jack said. “But you have to tell me what it is.”

“That’s what Lindsey said too,” Bitty said.

“Lindsey?” Jack repeated. “Is this something you talked about in therapy?”

“Sort of,” Bitty said. “Yes. I made a joke, then she asked what I meant and … yes, we talked about it.”

“Okay,” Jack said. It didn’t sound too serious if Bitty had joked about it, but Bitty did use jokes as deflection. “Why don’t you tell me what you said?”

“She asked what I was doing this weekend, and I said I was going to hit the gym,” Bitty said.

Jack nodded, because he and Bitty had spent time working out together almost every weekend since Bitty moved in. Jack always felt calmer in his skin after physical effort, and Bitty seemed to as well. And, well, they both seemed to like the way the other looked when they were sweaty and flushed. Post-workout sex would have gone a long way towards making the effort worth it even if Jack hadn’t enjoyed the exercise.

“Okay,” Jack said. “What was the joke?”

“I said I had to make sure to keep my athletic physique so you would still like me,” Bitty said, now looking at the sofa cushion to the left of Jack’s thigh.

Jack took another breath in, then settled himself back against the sofa, consciously letting his arms fall open at his sides. He’d promised not to be angry, and he didn’t want Bitty to think he was.

“Do you really think that?” Jack said. “Do you think I would lose interest — that I only love you — because of your body?”

“No, of course not!” Bitty said, stepping more fully into the room. “Don’t be silly. It’s not like my body could ever even compare to yours!”

“That’s not the point,” Jack said. “I love you, and I love your body, and, yeah, I think you’re hot. But that’s because you’re you. I thought you liked working out together.”

“I do, really,” Bitty said. “I just should have said that to Lindsey. It was just a joke.”

“It’s never ‘just a joke,’ Bits.” Jack leaned forward and put his elbows on his knees. “There’s always something behind it.”

“I know that’s what Shitty says,” Bitty said.

“But it’s true,” Jack said. “Do you really think I only love you for your body?”

“When you put it like that, no,” Bitty snorted and finally sat down.

“You do have a beautiful body,” Jack said.

“Not like yours,” Bitty said.

“I need to be strong for my career,” Jack said. “It’s not vanity. And you and I both know chances are my body will be damaged in some way by the time I’m retired. Will you love me less?”

“Of course not.” Bitty sniffed. “You’re gorgeous, you know that, but that’s not why I want you. And I know it’s your job. Until a few months ago, it was kind of my job too, if I wanted to keep my scholarship. But I don’t know how long I can keep it up, not with the job and the book and my YouTube channel.”

“I never said you had to.”

“No, not in so many words,” Bitty said. “But look at you. Look at your family. Your mom is an icon, your dad looks like he could still play. … You don’t want someone who looks like the ugly duckling.”

It was Jack’s turn to stand up.

“First, you could never be an ugly duckling,” he said. “No, first, my dad could not still play. His knees are shot. But even if he could, you wouldn’t be the ugly duckling, and I’d never make you feel that way. Neither would my parents. I don’t care if you lose all your muscle or gain 50 kilos or whatever. I was the ugly duckling — that’s what gossip magazines called me when I was a kid, and my parents always loved me because I was me. I love you because you’re you. And I’m not angry, but I guess I am a little hurt that you think I wouldn’t love you as much because you don’t have an NCAA athlete’s conditioning schedule anymore.”

“So you’re saying you’d never body-shame anyone?” Bitty asked.

“I’d hope not,” Jack said. “People come in all shapes and sizes.”

That’s what maman had told him when the other kids teased him about his weight.

“You sure about that, Mr. Eat More Protein?”

“What?” Jack sat heavily on the sofa again. “That wasn’t about you … about your body. That was about hockey.”

“About my body … me … playing hockey.”

Shit. Jack knew he’d been an asshole to Bitty when Bitty was a freshman. If he’d had any doubts, Shitty had been pretty clear on more than one occasion. But whenever he apologized, Bitty always waved it off, said it wasn’t necessary.

“Are we doing this now?” Jack asked, when he found his voice.

“What do you mean?” Bitty said.

“I mean, will you finally let me apologize for the way I acted at first?” Jack said. “It wasn’t about you —”

“You said, it was about hockey.”

“And me, and my anxiety about whether I’d ever make it.”

“And now that you have it’s all fine?”

Well, no, Jack knew his anxiety would never really be fine. But before he could say that, Bitty continued.

“I know that in your mind, it was about the team, and about you,” he said. “But what you said was about me, when I was new on the team, the smallest guy there, with Ransom and Holster calling me a fainting goat and saying they should make a play of it. But at least they acted like they liked me off the ice.”

“Do … do you think I don’t like you?” Jack asked, because this was a rabbit hole he has not expected to fall down today.

“No, of course not,” Bitty said. “I know you love me.”

Jack breathed a sigh of relief.

“But I know you didn’t like me at the beginning,” Bitty went on. “You didn’t like me until I became an asset to the team.”

“No,” Jack said. “I mean yes, you did become an asset to the team. But that’s not when I started to like you.”

“No?”

“No. It was checking practice,” Jack said. “You hated it. You’d nearly faint if I pushed you, even when you were in full pads and I didn’t even have a helmet on. But you kept getting up, you kept showing up. You were so determined, even though it was clear that you probably should have been in therapy then. You were — you are — so strong. And then when you voted for me for captain, even after your concussion — that was so generous.”

“As if anyone else could be captain,” Bitty sniffed.

“You did pretty well,” Jack said.

“Hush, you.”

“No,” Jack said. “You need to know what an incredible person you are. I’ve told you before, I am sorry for the way I treated you. It was wrong. And I’m sorry I never realized that it might make you feel insecure about your body.”

“C’mon, Jack, we both know I don’t have the usual body type for a hockey player,” Bitty said. “Just like I wasn’t much of a football player.

“No excuses, Bits,” Jack said. “It’s good you’re getting therapy. I know I’d be in a lot worse shape without it. But please know I love you. I love your body because it’s part of you. I’ll always love your body no matter what, because it will always be part of you.”

“And I’ll love you when I have to help you off the couch, old man,” Bitty said. “Sorry for — ” he waved his hands — “all this.”

“No, I’m glad you told me,” Jack said. “You still want to go to the gym tomorrow? You don’t have too.”

“Are you crazy?” Bitty said. “I wouldn’t miss it.”

Or read on AO3

[lampmanliveblogs]

Hejsan skurkar! It’s time for episode nine.

Aaaand we’re not wasting any time, I see. Just keep dumping new things on me.

In some deep dark room of the castle, probably either the throne room, the portal room or some other well-guarded, private room, Emperor Belos has decided to shed his mask for the moment. There is a schematic of… something. Some long rod or pillar with a round shape on it. The round shape, with the wings, kinda reminds me of the portal. The pillar beneath it might be some structure we haven’t seen yet, maybe power supply or something. Alternatively, it could be some kind of staff. Maybe another staff to contain artificial magic, like the Golden Guard’s.

More interesting though is the open book. On the left page we see what appears to be a diagram of some humanoid figure as it develops throughout life. There is also an emphasis placed on its eyes. I can’t tell if the figure is supposed to be human, witch, demon… or something else entirely.

For example, it might be the Grimwalker, a name we can read on the right page of the book. There also appear to be some kind of ingredient list. The galdorstones (which we saw in episode five… even if I misspelled the name), represents Heart and Power. The Palistrom wood (which there is a shortage of) represents keratin (hair and nails/claws). We also see that whatever this recipe is, it also needs Stonesleeper lungs, Selkidomus scales (hey, what was that thing I said in episode one about the Emperor needing something from the Selkidomus?) and… some kind of bone. I’m not sure what it says there.

I dunno for certain, but it seems to me like Belos might be cooking something. Some kind of homunculus maybe? 

As it turns out, I am an idiot and didn’t look close enough on the blueprints above, because that was obviously a key, not a staff.

Anyways, it looks like Belos is trying to activate his new portal. This involves pumping it full of some green ooze. This might be some of that pure magic they supposedly managed to gather thanks to the Coven system. Next, he’s gonna insert the key he’s made. Lemme guess, it’s not gonna work, because the door requires the key that Luz still has?

Called it.

Hejsan Hunter. I see that little rascal palisman is still following you around. I’d maybe not bring it too close to your uncle, but that’s just me. Lemme guess, Belos is gonna send you to get the key from the Owl House?

Hejsan Emperor Belos.

Olay wow, I guess we’re seeing his face. Already. I… give me a sec, I wasn’t expecting this.

First off, there is a green mark or scar with dark spots running across his face. Probably caused by whatever curse of affliction causes him to turn into a violent monster unless he gets his fix of palisman juice. More importantly though, it distracts you from his teeny tiny little ears. Ears that look different from how most witches ears look. In fact, they look like a humans ears that are starting to grow into the pointed elf shape that most witches have.

This is because Emperor Belos is, in fact, Philip Wittebane. it looks like prolonged exposure to the Demon Realm’s magic has some interesting effects on human biology.

Also, yes, I really want to see how the portal works.

[misasimagines]

cooking with the jjk characters!

included characters: Yuji, Megumi, Nobara, Maki, Gojo, Nanami rating: sfw warnings: food focused hcs, mentions of minor injuries but nothing graphic

Yuji: He can cook! He’s been taking care of himself for a while, so he can definitely cook enough to get by. It may not be fancy, his omelet may come out looking a little ugly, but it tastes good. He will bring you a lunchbox if he’s already making one for himself, and he does put the sauce on in a little smiley face or something but it’s still a little lopsided. He’s used to more routine, easy to put together, cheap ingredient meals, but if you wanted to try to cook something fancier with him, he’d agree to try! He would cut veggies Super Fast but they would not be consistently sized or shaped. He’s also the type to accidentally cut or burn himself because he he got distracted talking to you or trying to read the recipe at the same time and ouch! You put a bandage on his finger and he’s just heart eyes at you because aw, you care. But if you got hurt?? Nope, you’re now on couch duty reading the recipe to him from afar. He doesn’t care if it’s just a little burn from hot oil jumping from the pan, you’re basically on death’s door. You can fight him on this and he’ll put oven mitts on your hands for the rest of the cooking “for protection.” The meal comes out good, but visually...Well, it’s endearing that you both tried so hard.

Megumi: He can cook a few practical things, meals that don’t take long to put together and ideally can use substitute ingredients based on what he has. They’re also all Healthy. Nothing is fried or breaded or covered in a calorie filled sauce. He probably doesn’t love cooking. He doesn’t hate doing it, but he doesn’t dream of spending hours in the kitchen standing over a hot stove caramelizing onions. He’s also not so into garnishing and plating things, claims its a waste of time, but then he brings you lunch one day for the first time and it’s very obvious he tried to make it look appealing without going overboard. Cooking with you, he kind of ends up wanting to do everything himself so you’re gonna have to snatch the recipe out of his hands or sneak a peak at his phone when he sets it down so you can figure out what to do. The more you try to force your way into helping, the funnier he thinks it is, so there will be an unspoken game of him trying to keep you from helping and you trying very hard to help. He’s not likely to hurt himself while cooking because, surprise! he’s not a complete spaz, he’s pretty aware of what he’s doing. If you get hurt, he takes care of you and he’s very gentle but he says something like, you really can’t do anything without me, can you? while running your burned fingers under cold water. He might admit to liking something more because you made it together than he would if he had to buy it or make it himself, and that’s very cute of him, but if you bring it up around anyone else, he’s like I Never Said That. It Was Gross. >:(

Nobara: She prefers takeout or going to a restaurant or even just sitting on the counter in the middle of everything while someone else cooks for her. She will agree to cook with you but she’s picking an incredibly complicated and fancy dish because it can’t be THAT hard. Yes, it can. And you guys are going to fuck it up because she is a whirlwind in the kitchen and not in a good way. It’s hard to keep up with the ten tasks she’s trying to complete at the same time. She’ll cut half a carrot before giving up and burning sauteing the garlic, she forgot to preheat the oven but a pot is boiling over on the stove, she’s snacking on tortilla chips the entire time and about 5 minutes before you’re ready to plate the food, she’s like hmm... I’m full... Even so, by the end she wants to make it look as nice and gourmet as possible, even if something is burned or overcooked and you had to substitute an ingredient or two so it doesn’t look anything like the picture on the recipe. She’s a little disappointed when she sees how it came together but will cheer up if you tell her it’s a great first attempt, better than either of you could do alone, and you just liked spending time with her! She’s not super likely to get hurt when cooking, but if she does she’s either like it’s fine it’s just a little blood it’ll add Flavor or she’s like this is it for me. I’m not gonna make it. If you get hurt she’s like lmao couldn’t be me but she’s already kissing you on the cheek and putting a bandage on your hand.

Maki: Like Megumi, she’s practical and has a small list of things she can cook well. Unlike him, she does have more comfort food type dishes that take a little more effort or are a little less healthy than her normal meals. Shes also very efficient and consistent, she cleans as she goes, she uses as few dishes as possible, and she’s kind of annoyed by having someone else in the kitchen with her disrupting her flow. If you’re in the way, she will just pick you up around the waist and move you so she can get to where she needs to go (um maki call me) and she’s silently smug about it (um maki hello call me please). She isn’t big on garnishing and plating and making things look good, but they turn out okay anyway. If you want to make something a little fancier, she’s pleased! She thinks its cute and does fall to the idea of it tasting better because it looks better. She might consider being more open to the idea in the future. She’s not one to get hurt in the kitchen, just don’t really expect it to happen. She probably could grab a hot sheet pan from the oven with her bare hands and be fine though honestly. If you get hurt, she’ll take care of you, but you’re not getting coddled for a teeny burn. If you ask for a kiss to make it better, she sighs but she’ll do it.

Gojo: People go to culinary school for this, shouldn’t we pay them to cook for us? <3 He doesn’t really want to because he’s spoiled and he’s used to just buying food. He’s a man-child who pretends that he can’t boil water without causing a mass inferno but also his ego is so large that he would claim to be able to make a souffle on the first try with no assistance, so take this how you will. Mostly though, he’s not much help. He’s snacking on the ingredients and suggesting additions or substitutions that would be disgusting. Oh, I ate all the cucumber, I guess we could put lime peel in for the same effect. No! You Freak! He also waits until after something is burned to be like hmm? Should this be black? He’ll set the timer for 2hrs instead of 20 minutes. Get ready for a 6′2 man to be twirling and dancing around your kitchen like the living embodiment of those dancing tube guys outside of car dealerships. He doesn’t get hurt because of his infinity thing, but he might pretend he got hurt so you’ll feel compelled to give him kisses. Then he takes it a step further by being like oh, god, I’m so weak, I have to rest from this wound, you have to cuddle me, or I’ll die- If you get hurt, he’s carrying you out of the kitchen and pulling out the entire first aid kid like you cut off an entire limb and didn’t just let lemon juice touch a scratch on your hand. Even with all of this chaos, it manages to come out edible! He pretends to be incompetent at this and he can’t stop messing around, but he didn’t want you to be upset about a wasted effort.

Nanami: Canonical foodie, so he does like being able to go out and try things, but he also is good at cooking and tries to recreate things he’s had at restaurants (and improve on them if possible). If you’re not interested in cooking, he doesn’t mind cooking for you as long as you sit nearby and keep him company and maybe be a taste tester along the way. He makes fancy and unusual things and plates them so they look appealing. If you do want to cook with him, he’s not overbearing about what you do. If you cut something into cubes when it should be slices, he’s not going to be bothered in the slightest. He doesn’t mind taking the less favorable jobs in the kitchen like dropping things into hot oil or cutting sweet potatoes and maybe I’m just too weak and think that sweet potatoes are impossible to cut through but whatever I’m writing these hcs <3. He pretty much never gets hurt in the kitchen, and even if he does, he barely reacts and just deals with it without you even really realizing. If you get hurt, he won’t overreact, he just tells you to clean it and then grabs a bandage for you. He will put it on you and kiss the top of your head in consolation for your war injury, though. Whatever you end up cooking with Nanami always ends up tasting amazing and looking like it comes straight from a foodie’s instagram.