#also i have not tried cinnamon on popcorn before! | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

bravevolunteer · 2 years ago

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𝐌𝐔𝐒𝐄 𝐅𝐀𝐕𝐎𝐑𝐈𝐓𝐄𝐒; 𝐏𝐑𝐄𝐅𝐄𝐑𝐄𝐍𝐂𝐄𝐒

𝐀𝐍𝐈𝐌𝐀𝐋: fox... unsurprisingly— beyond using the mask as a scare tactic, foxy was genuinely his favorite animatronic ( and if i'm self-indulgent, couuulddd have been inspired by him, but- ) and he's always like the animal itself. was probably also that kid who thought wolves were cool as hell ngl HGFHDHG

𝐅𝐋𝐎𝐖𝐄𝐑: i don't even think he knows this but he'd like before the storm irises and bat flowers ( emo ass )

𝐒𝐂𝐄𝐍𝐓: firewood, gasoline, the air after it rains

𝐂𝐎𝐅𝐅𝐄𝐄: he's not that picky honestly— will not hesitate to drink black if need be/he just cannot be bothered to do anything else, but he'll usually have it with a simple milk and sugar. will also sometimes just get straight up espresso shots.

𝐓𝐄𝐀: doesn't really drink tea, if he does he'd probably go for something spiced, like a cinnamon type. maybe with honey because it reminds him of what his mom would make when he got sick but that's embarrassing JHDFGHJKK

𝐃𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐊: ... he was probably an energy drink guy ESPECIALLY in his teens, okay battery acid

𝐀𝐋𝐂𝐎𝐇𝐎𝐋𝐈𝐂 𝐁𝐄𝐕𝐄𝐑𝐀𝐆𝐄: again, not picky— he can stomach pretty much anything: beers, shots, mixed drinks, whatever. he can sometimes be put off by the smell of whiskeys, but he can stomach it fine, with that said he was for sure a fireball guy lmao

𝐅𝐎𝐎𝐃: ... so i've already talked about how he doesn't have the BEST diet, it's a good day if he cooks himself a real meal period. definitely gets a lot of takeout, but also he's content if he makes himself a good sandwich... any meals that remind him of better times when he was a kid is when he has a preference for homecooked

𝐃𝐄𝐒𝐒𝐄𝐑𝐓: ... this might be more of a snack but of course my instinct is to say popcorn. it's a comfort after horrible shifts when he can still eat okay HGFKGF he's also a cookie guy i think, cupcakes and ice cream Not Allowed

𝐀𝐑𝐓𝐈𝐂𝐋𝐄 𝐎𝐅 𝐂𝐋𝐎𝐓𝐇𝐈𝐍𝐆: when he's younger? for sure his stupid "tank tops" aka shirts with the sleeves he cut off himself— he thought he looked cool. into adulthood he does keep a leather jacket that he really likes. bonus: he ALSO likes his piercings and a couple rings as accessories

𝐋𝐄𝐅𝐓 𝐎𝐑 𝐑𝐈𝐆𝐇𝐓 𝐇𝐀𝐍𝐃𝐄𝐃: left handed, tried to train himself to be ambidextrous as a kid because he got frustrated over smudging paper and failed ( pov william, probably Could teach himself if he hasn't already, finds this really funny )

𝐒𝐋𝐎𝐏𝐏𝐘 𝐎𝐑 𝐍𝐄𝐀𝐓 𝐖𝐑𝐈𝐓𝐈𝐍𝐆: mostly neat! it's not perfect or anything and can be a little scrawly but it's very readable

𝐂𝐋𝐄𝐀𝐍 𝐎𝐑 𝐌𝐄𝐒𝐒𝐘 𝐇𝐎𝐌𝐄: messy... always had a pretty messy room as a kid / teenager, and while he DOES try to put some effort in occasionally.... he is depressed AND lives alone ( in complete isolation post scooping ), he doesn't really have much motivating him to keep his place clean. if he's living with someone, he will try more, but old habits die hard

𝐒𝐇𝐎𝐖𝐄𝐑 𝐈𝐍 𝐌𝐎𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐎𝐑 𝐍𝐈𝐆𝐇𝐓: the thing about this is it's assuming he has a schedule like a normal person LMAO— he does struggle with the drive to do so making that already the first factor to handle. when he doesn't work night shifts, he'd usually shower at night. when he does, his regular system will be get home, either pass out or Sit And Deal With That, and THEN shower bc ew gross yucky restaurant.... so that would make it more like afternoon i guess!

𝐋𝐎𝐕𝐄 𝐋𝐀𝐍𝐆𝐔𝐀𝐆𝐄: quality time and acts of service— he is so prone to isolation and self sabotage that allowing himself to spend that meaningful time with someone is not only what he needs and won't let himself have, but a display of how much he cares for that person. michael's never been good at verbal communication, so he will tend to show his love through actions: doing things for others, defending/protecting them, helping instead of hurting. as for receiving? of course all options good but he is especially deprived of words of affirmation and physical touch ( though this very much hinges on comfort levels )

𝐁𝐄𝐋𝐈𝐄𝐕𝐄 𝐈𝐍 𝐋𝐎𝐕𝐄 𝐀𝐓 𝐅𝐈𝐑𝐒𝐓 𝐒𝐈𝐆𝐇𝐓: no— he has with struggled concepts related to fate and inherent qualities, but that's more in the personal sense, he's not interested in the idea of love at first sight. has everything to do with the fact that the idea of someone seeing the worst parts of him and loving him anyway appeals to him.

TAGGED BY: @moondevours TAGGING: steal from me i am so tired

#forgot i started this and then let it sit in my drafts for over a week LFHGHDFK #somehow he both has to make every answer so much more complicated than it should be AND is not really that picky about a lot of stuff?#idk if that's due to not really being much of a material person or being a Mess GHDFHFGF #some of these were so on the spot. the handedness one was Just me going 'yeah that's funny write it down'#⁂ ･ﾟ: none of us belong‚ everything i do is wrong‚ and soon there will be nobody left around ➛ headcanons

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jazzeria · 8 days ago

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Spicy Chili Crisp Popcorn has been one of my favourite homemade popcorn flavours since I found out about it ("pepcorn" by Brian David Gilbert).

After trying Gilbert's method, I made a few changes. Here's what I do:

Blend the Spicy Chili Crisp (I use an immersion blender and a jar that juuust fits it)

Pop in a wok: use a lid with a tea towel to absorb condensed steam that runs down the lid back toward the wok

Transfer the hot popcorn to a huge metal strainer (allow the steam to escape, and let the popcorn cool a bit). I also use this time to prepare my toppings because usually I haven't thought that far ahead yet.

Transfer cooled popcorn to a large vessel (large enough for mixing).

Drizzle a bit of chili oil (and other seasonings* if using), and mix.

Taste and repeat Step 5 until desired flavour intensity

Other ingredients I usually add:

Powdered salt (theatre salt)

Powdered prickly ash (Sichuan peppercorn)

Garlic powder

Powdered sugar (either storebought icing sugar, or normal sugar just run through a blender to make it finer)

Here's what the wok with a towel looks like:

I've been making chili garlic popcorn using Spicy Chili Crisp, but I wondered how it would turn out if I used my homemade chili oil.

My homemade chili oil is milder than SCC, doesn't contain salt or sugar, and doesn't have crunchy soybeans. The flavours are more subtle and aromatic (cinnamon, anise, all the lovely citrusy and floral notes from prickly ash) and definitely more numbing than SCC.

I put some homemade chili oil in the blender with some salt, sugar, and garlic powder. Then I made a batch of popcorn using the same method as before, but using my homemade oil. After tasting, I felt it needed a bit more something. In the pantry I had a jar of shichimi togarashi seasoning blend, so I gave that a try. The orange zest really tied it all together, and I was surprised at how different a beast this popcorn was!

My partner's coworkers often end up as guinea pigs for my kitchen experiments, so I thought I'd ask them for feedback in a more rigorous way, and created a little questionnaire they could fill out.

POPCORN FLAVOUR SURVEY Version A (2/5 spiciness) Features Lao Gan Ma Spicy Chili Crisp. Hotter spiciness level. More garlicky, more savoury. (Lao Gan Ma Spicy Chili Crisp Ingredients: Soybean Oil, Chili, Onion, Fermented Soybean (Soybean, Water), Monosodium Glutamate, Salt, Sugar, Pepper Powder, Sulfur Dioxide, Sodium Sulfite) Version B (1/5 spiciness) Features homemade chili oil, prickly ash (Sichuan peppercorn, gives numbing sensation), and orange zest. More sweet and aromatic than Version A. Milder. Uses Shichimi Togarashi seasoning blend. (Shichimi Togarashi Ingredients: Red Chili Flakes, Sea Salt, Szechuan Peppercorns, Black sesame Seeds, White Sesame Seeds, Poppy Seeds, Orange Zest, Wasabi powder, Nori Seaweed Flakes. May Contain: wheat)

I was honestly kind of shocked by the results. There was a definitive preference--which in retrospect, shouldn't have surprised me because most of his coworkers have low spiciness tolerance.

Science!

(Transcript follows the image below)

Question 1: If you’ve tried both versions, which one did you prefer? (Draw a checkmark in the column.)

Version A: no checkmarks

Version B: 4 checkmarks

Question 2: Any other feedback?

Version A:

packs more of a punch and the spiciness builds as you keep eating. I enjoy it also. But prefer the nuance of B.

Good flavou & enjoy the heat level

Version B:

more subtle flavour, nicely salted, slight sweetness, lovely little numbing sensation.

Nice variety of flavours & enjoy the hint of sweetness

Both good but this one seems more complex with good spice and other flavours

very good

Written between both columns:

I can't tell the difference; both excellent

#food #chili oil #popcorn #pepcorn #spicy chili crisp #popcorn survey #for science #AW's coworkers #recipe

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boy-in-a-flower-crown · 4 years ago

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notable people from my seven months of working the graveyard shift

- the regular who came in every day before 5 am to buy at least two lottery tickets and two scratch tickets

- on one occasion he came in while I was mopping the floor and he couldn't see me and i yelled "hi!" and he responded with "i wish I was"

- the surprisingly well dressed but still very exasperated man who came in at about three am asking for coffee creamer

- the 34 year old 5 foot tall woman who came in wearing hello kitty PJs at 4:45 in the morning and was incredulous that i asked her for ID when she asked to buy cigs

- the man with a smoker's voice who purchased four dollars worth of gas entirely with quarters

- the man who came in without a mask, ordered an extra large coffee, and when I started saying "because you're not wearing a mask i will have to dispense the beverage for you", he cut me off after "mask" and said "oh yeah I'm so sorry dude! i just had the most passionate kiss with someone..." while putting up a bandana. his credit card declined on $2.30 and he then ran away looking for cash. he never came back.

- the man with a heavy russian accent who was very upset that we didn't carry whole coffee beans

- the customer on skip the dishes that ordered five bottles of pepsi, a litre of milk and a bag of wine gums at 1 in the morning

- the person who left a mostly empty tub of Betty Crocker french vanilla frosting open and with a spoon on the counter

- the woman who came in at 1:30am asking to use the bathroom and when I told her no pubic access she said, verbatim, "I'm gonna take his head between my thighs, or what's left of them because I'm a skinny little chicken, and I'm gonna pop it off." no i don't know who "he" is

- the man who came in quite literally strutting at 4:30 am saying "cinnamon buns" over and over

- the kid who told me "have a good evening" at 5:30am

- the woman who asked me for cigs and rolled her eyes when I ID'd her, said "I'm 30 years old", and walked out. that's when I noticed that not only was she in her pyjamas, but she was also wearing slippers. like, in the house with a housecoat, bright pink and fuzzy kind of slippers

- the man who had to be at least in his 40s who was using what appeared to be a spiderman themed velcro clasped wallet

- the man who practically begged me to get the store to order more cinnamon buns

- the man who asked "where's your floss?" at 1:30am

- the absolute chaotic boys who asked me to sell them single cigs

- the Uber driver who told me "bless you and bless your family, you're doing a wonderful job"

- the person who ordered two packs of triple a batteries and nothing else at 1 in the morning

- the very spunky girl who came in at 2 in the morning asking if we sold caramels, and told me "it was a craving i got at 1am and i was like 'yeah let's make this!' and no. it didn't work. toxic sludge from hell." and left.

- the older woman who said "the luckiest married women become mothers, and the luckiest married men become motherfuckers."

- the boys who came in at 11pm and asked if we sold firecrackers

- the guy who straight up asked me if he could steal a taquito

- the people who made popcorn in our microwave at 2 in the morning

- the woman who told me to go masturbate after i ID'd her

- an entirely separate woman who came in wearing different hello kitty PJ pants, asked for cigs, and was incredulous when I ID'd her

- a man with an incredibly thick Irish accent who asked me why i was on the graveyard shift, and after saying "it's a pretty easy shift, especially as an introvert" he said "introversion doesn't exist" then as he was leaving he said, "you're adhd as fuck though, aren't you"

- the person who ordered two bottles of water and three packs of gum at two in the morning

- the woman who, as she was leaving, said "until next time, keep fit, and have fun."

- the man who came in at 4:30 am and told me he just had a really good date with a seagull

- the girl who asked me if her hair gave me a stoner vibe when it actively made me think of an anime girl

- the guy who was driving a bobcat

- the (definitely cis) guy who came in looking for oil and the like at about 4am. when he brought all his stuff to the counter he said, "this shit is getting too expensive" and i responded "this is why I don't drive," to which he said "well if it's got tits or tires it's gonna cause you trouble and it's gonna cost you a lot of money."

- the guy who came in, put two cans of red bull on the counter, then asked if we had twizzlers. upon hearing no, he said "forget it" and walked out without buying the red bulls.

- the man who, to pay for his items, pulled out a jar of coins that included pennies (I'm in Canada, where pennies have been discontinued for almost a decade)

- the man who came in and asked if any sex stores are in the area and open (it was 2 am). after telling him no he tried buying condoms, for which his card declined. he then proceeded to ask me if I wanted to hang out with him when my shift was over.

- the ridiculously drunk man who came in at three in the morning and when I said "hi!" he replied "good"

- the boys in their early twenties who came in at 3am and while waiting for me to grab the slurpee cup i overheard one of them say "look at how good his hair looks, i feel like i should be being fucked looking at it."

- the man who paid for a pack of cigs almost entirely in quarters

- *we'd started doing donations for covid relief in India* the man who after asking if there were sizes for the condoms, during the transaction i asked if he'd like to make a donation and he said "why would I donate to covid?" after his payment went through he said "would you?" and i said "donate to a covid relief fund?" and he said "yeah" and i was like "??? yes???"

- two people asked me if I said the donation was for chlamydia. the first guy said "if it's for chlamydia then I'm not donating" but the second guy said "i mean chlamydia sucks too, I'd donate either way"

- the three very drunk and very considerate girls who were all dressed as flappers

- the guy who asked for four tea bags for his 12oz cup and proceeded to make what I'm assuming was an attempt at a London fog

- the man who came in at about 3:40 after I'd already completed cash counts. he put a jug of chocolate milk on the counter and said "does it bother you that I'm buying this? like, can you keep it a secret just between us?" and i was like "i mean yeah sure" and then i noticed he was holding several rolls of dimes and i told him "i can't take cash right now as I've already completed the counts for shift change" and he was like "not even for gas?" and i was internally like "yeah duh" and then he goes "look man i can go without the gas but i have to have my chocolate milk" and i was like "there's nothing i can do" and then he said "do you drink chocolate milk?" and i said "not frequently, no" and he said "oh, not since you were six?" and i was like "I'm lactose intolerant" which shut him up for about three seconds before he said "you're really not gonna budge?" and then walked out

- the guy who asked for the bathroom and when I said there's no public access he said "what about friends, I've been here twice" and i said "unless you're staff you don't get to use it" and he said "i have a staph infection, does that count" and when my unimpressed look told him no he said "well i tried" and left

- the eighty year old man who was actively using a Bowser snap wallet

- the guy who had to change his tire directly in front of the store at two in the morning

- the guy who punched me in the face with a bottle of iced tea, causing me a concussion and ultimately causing me to quit my job

#funny #funny stories #night shift stories #night shift #work stories #this job sucked #flower boy text post #read all the way through #worth the read

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writing-blog-iguess · 4 years ago

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Do you have any headcanons about the insecurities fic you wrote about? I can't help but headcanon a lot, like:

both Harley & Ivy enjoys watching reader finishing her food, they also call her their mom since reader has been making them food since their first meet (Harley loves her egg sandwich, while Ivy was the baked potatoes bread)

Alfred always bakes matcha swiss roll with red bean paste or pastries that's easy too shallow with reader (so that she could shallow without feeling like choking and needs to drink a lot of water) whenever she stops by and keeps giving him hugs which he gladly return it everytime, the Alferd&Y/N's hug, is what everyone comments it

Dicks showing pictures he took of seven years old (a journey of Y/N's growing he calls) and then reader to all his teammates and the league as soon as he learnt the engagement's finally announce 'Look at this! Can't you imagine?! She's my little sister! This is when she seven years old! It's very heartwarming right blah blah blah... " and that's how the other superheros and older Teen Titans and Barbara knows how much Dick adore his future little sister-in-law who's s cinnamon roll

Sassy and baddass way to talk for so people won't dare mess up with her confidence (Jason help her built up, after he met her and quick into adoption of her, siblings!) Not that he would ever admit, Jason will sent glares to whoever who diss Y/N's like to children picture books (for example, The Guardians of Childhood aka inspiration of Rise of the Guardians movie) come on, his little sister had great taste in books!

Tim forbid her drinking coffee when they first met and even after (since he nearly caused a seven-years-old gone missing in the manor after the reader can't fall asleep decided to have a exploration situation) but will make it for her sometimes later after she used to it, made account for art websites she wants to register that so she can admire arts but underage back when childhoods, so he used it under his own only name (defiantly annoymus, and no, it's not illegal website) and every then and how

Makeover and dress-up with Barbara, Stephanie and Cassandra after they learnt of her (which they give Damian few lessons of 'how to treat the girl you like' with Dick who's extremely enjoy it, Jason and Tim who's enjoy the show all day), in the end, all heads to movie since it's sister bond time and apparently, the ideas of XL caramel popcorns and coke are the best choice!

Bruce pat or ruffle her hair softly everytime they met, a habit since the day he had ten years ago when she's seven, a touch of 'my daughter is growing up' feel will seldom appears in his heart

Damian from straightly ingored to slowly falls in love with reader after everytime he saw her sincere smile whenever she enjoyed Alfred's food heartily (like this, but a more faintly heartwarming one haha, at the very last pic, not sure if you could see it, so here's another link you could try out☺☺ )

Innocent, 'naive girl playing tough' charm whenever she and Damian together alone (first kiss, cuddling, hair massaging, teasing, which he finds not annoying because it's how really she is, and he enjoys keep on trailing and turn on her wildness)

How reader slowly felt left out though it didn't really occur me, just the thought of Batfam night activity and how we're isolating from each other slowly and inoccasionally when growing up just made me feel that way, you know, the feelings of it's not the same like it used to anymore😞😞

And once again, thank you so much for accepting my request at the beginning, I've been having this thought in my mind but I just couldn't write it, I'm so glad you accepted it and it's totally the way I want☺☺ (And about part 2 Talia which you accepted it too, I hope my words didn't scare you out lol... I'm too exciting that day...) Hope you have a very good day ahead, author!

Tumblr really needs to let me know when I have something in my inbox, I swear.

Of course! I loved writing it, and I’m glad you enjoyed it. No, your words didn’t scare me lol, I’m just outlining part 2 and I hope you love it just as much. With that said, and you don’t mind the wait, send in your ideas! I love reading them.

Okay, onto the headcanons! I love these! I put mine under the readmore, there's a bit;

Y/N didn’t have the best home life. Like I’m not saying abusive, just her parents neglected her a little. And it didn’t help that her whole life was planned for. So when she met Harley and Ivy, they basically went, you’re mine now no take backsies. And y/n just rolls with it, because through them, she finds out what it feels to be loved by someone who cares about you. This of course, she keeps from her parents and the day she turned eighteen, she moved out and it was a lot easier to hang out with those two.

Ever since knowing Harley and Ivy, y/n’s been slowly getting out of her shell. When she starts to hang out with Jason, she becomes more confident. She has Jason wrapped around her finger without even knowing

The girls love her, everyone loves her and Damian’s just, why

She loves cooking, and she even swaps recipes with Alfred. (even from the beginning of the whole arrangement) she became fast friends with Alfred first before everyone else.

y/n has known Damian since his first day of school. But I’m not going to lie, y/n was kind of scared Damian.

She got so offended when Tim took away her coffee when she wanted to try it. And when she became a regular coffee drinker, they would talk about different coffees they had tried and compare notes.

When the arranged marriage was first brought up in conversation, there was a lot of protests. Especially from Dick and Damian, but Bruce just shrugged saying that it was a good match. And if they don’t get married in the end, than that’s fine. Everyone was very confused but stopped bringing it up

They have theories though about the whole thing, the most popular one in the manor is that Bruce is looking for the next Robin when Damian hangs up the Robin cape to be someone else

When Bruce announced that, everyone did their own research about y/n. Everyone but Damian agreed but she must be protected, though it kind of blows up when they kind of cast her aside when she started hanging out with them at the manor, (but that’s not until later)

She and Damian have lunch together everyday at school, much to Damian’s displeasure. And he’s mean to her at the beginning, ignoring her and whatnot. She doesn’t do anything cuz she hates this setup just as much

But slowly, she starts to catch feels but keeps it to herself.

As you said, Damian takes longer to fall in love with her. And its one of those moments when she looks at peace within his family and it just hits him like ‘oh. Oh no I’m in love and I can’t tell anyone this’ and he doesn’t. So up until they confess to each other, their just pinning after each other and people who aren’t family sees that their in love but no know says anything

However, they do get more cuddly when they’re alone. Like, they don’t kiss or anything. But when they have movie nights, y/n’s curled up on the end of the couch with Damian’s head on her lap. And she’s always plays with his hair, of runs her fingers through it and Damian has discovered that it feels nice and helps him to de-stress

She knows when he’s stressed about something, so her just pats her lap and he grumbles about it but is secretly happy (they have been caught on multiple occasions by his brothers and they chooses to ignore them

She’s been so use to feeling alone, that being with people who care feels foreign to her

When she starts to feel like she’s alone again, she doesn’t see it until it’s too late

It starts off slowly, the fam is to busy with missions and saving the world that they kind of forget they she doesn’t know, and when she comes over, their not there or just brushes her off when she is. And she’s tried to talk to them, cuz she’s spend years being a part of their family but then one day it stopped.

But they just brush her off and she’s reminded about her parents so she stops pushing and then altogether stops going to the manor.

No one really realizes at first, only Alfred, and when they do, y/n had already broken off the engagement.

#damian wayne x reader #damian wayne x fem!reader #batman #arranged marriage au #headcanons #robin #damian wanye #i answered a thing #anonymous

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confused-as-all-hell · 4 years ago

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where would each of the court members be in the court, if the coc was real?

i would presumably spend my days everywhere, reading on the couches, sitting cross legged on the kitchen table, sprawled across the floor of the library, i just like being around my court and my castle of chaos

@investmentofmyheart would be sitting in the living room, trying to read a book but really getting distracted by whatever movie's playing on the tv, and then she inevitably tries to fight ash for the remote, this is canon

@twelve-kinds-of-trouble would be outside in the gardens, tending to the roses and reading poetry aloud like the aesthetic she is, making everyone fall in love with her fucking beautiful voice (//gen)

@saltyfortunes would be working on some project or another, maybe in the kitchen while someone else is baking, and then she wanders out to the gardens with a snack to take a nap

@ghafascortana is sprawled out on an infirmary bed, eating chocolate and trying to think of remedies for a paper cut, generally panicking but also the best healer we have

@22herondale is watching gossip girl on the sofas, maybe eating popcorn, probably fighting lizzie over the remote, definitely updating the court on the latest gossip in the parlor

@ahecktonoffandomsinoneblog is also sitting in the garden, listening to lyra read, eating a fuckton of sugar and making crowns of lavender and pearl

@sankta-chaosqueen meant to watch over the gardens incase somEONe came back to run it over, but really she got lured to sleep and can now be seen slumbering like a faerie amid the flowers

@counting2zer0 is in her room with books and music piled up like a fortress, with a few cats we have no clue how she acquired, but she always shows for every single meal

@claremcnt is in the infirmary, helping lucie with all the patients, because they actually know what they're doing, and probably stealing some food from the kitchens at any given moment

@alonlyfangirl is playing the ukulele while chaos unfolds behind her, like gina listening to music while terry fights off three criminals at once (b99 reference)

@nevada-the-pirate is wearing a crown of flowers that lyn made her, running through the library, (she's turned it into an obstacle course) and challenging us all to duels

@theglassphantom has taken court in the dining room, where she screens all the food ry makes to check for poison, and steals half the sugar from our cabinets

@thebonecarver is reading in the library and helping nev set out obstacle courses, generally taking care of us dumbasses, and making the best dinners ever

@dreaminginvelaris hides away in a corner of the library with her books and pens, the scholar, we lower ourselves before her for advice like in lotr, she's so smart and we're all chaotic

@ratabrasileira is up in her room listening to music, but every once in a while, she comes downstairs to help make breakfast and recommend songs that are simply wonderous

@im-someone-i-guess is in a spare room, drawing out the floor plans, recreating the whole castle, or sleeping in the movie theatre while everyone else squabbles over whose turn it is to pick

@kazoo-the-demjin sits in the living room with ash and lizzie, she's hidden the remote, they toil in vain, she eats handfuls of popcorn while they fight to the death

@iambecomeyourvillain is our resident hacker, she knows how to bypass every rule and company ever created, and she makes fantastic waffles on fridays

@warmachinerox-with-an-x-all-caps doesn't interact very much, but she stops by every so often with chocolate and chaos, and can be glimpsed scheming on monday mornings

@jurdan-my-beloved reads in the living room, oblivious to the war going on, drinking carmel coffee that only she knows how to make, eating waffles that she begged jes for

@wafflesandschemingfaces sleeps in the garden, sunshine in the shape of a girl, a book beneath her hand and light smudged across her face, the only peaceful one-

@nightshade3465 is the executioner, she stays in the dungeon to make herself more threatening, but really she's turned a cell into a literal pillow fort

@herondalesunsetcurve is burning down something, the gardens, the kitchens, and constantly eating either soaps from her bathroom or candles from the dining area, we dont know whY

@cressjacquine is watching everything from the turret of the castle, a bow and arrow in hand, but since we live in the middle of nowhere, she likes to shoot at the gardens for sport

@sapphossidechick reads peacefully, halts our inevitable wars, generally ensures we murder our enemies instead of one another, tg for her

@naz-yalensky can be glimpsed running over the royal gardens, setting fire to the library, or serving time in the dungeons for her crimes

@brekkercookie is a literal cinnamon roll, she just makes everyone happy by being there, and fulfills her given role as lady of this chaotic court

@neilperryisalive is usually with me; when the castle is awake, we scheme, when they slumber (or pretend to smh) we dream impossibilities. also tv.

@idkwhatthehellisgoingonrn is ever bewildered by the chaos of this court, and can often be seen in their room with chocolate and books and notebooks of looped writing

@echos-of-ages-past is the only reason we’re still sane, they’re the court fool but the smartest person here, it’s probably thanks to their counsel the castle stands still

lmk if i missed you-

#court of chaos #castle of chaos

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you-cant-spell-subtext-without · 4 years ago

Text

The Adventurous Eaters Club

Hi buddies! Welcome to the first post of yet another project I have chosen to take on because I apparently don’t enjoy sleep in any form.

To make this even more FUN, let’s do a THING (just in time for #RACultivatingKindness and the Random Acts Food Equity initiative)

One hundred percent of author proceeds from Misha’s cookbook go to charity, including the following: The Edible Schoolyard The Garden School Foundation Whatcom Farm-to-School Fund

One week after each blogpost I do for this little adventure, I will count up the notes on that post and donate $1 per note to one of the above, or to @randomactsorg.

If you make a donation to any of these (in any amount!) or buy Misha’s cookbook and send me the receipt in my asks I will match your donation AND you can pick the next thing I cook!

[I say this like I have clout here, but hey why not feed some people, do a little good, and make this interactive!]

With all the preliminaries aside, let’s cook some chicken, under the cut!

(warning: the photos below the cut contain pictures of raw chicken in case that is a “ew” trigger for anyone. just warning ya)

Mix ‘N’ Match “Fried” Chicken (page 169)

This is a baked fried chicken tender recipe with three different spice mixtures (for those with children, the intent is to introduce them to diff flavors and also make them less fearful of food with ‘specks’ (or speckles, as L calls them)).

**The first thing I said reading this was “Dammit Misha! Am I just casually supposed to own a meat mallet?” (does everyone? have I missed out on the meat mallet trend? fallen behind the curve of cool culinary utensil ownership? *hangs head in shame*)

First things first, I’m going to go rogue and tell you that after you cut your chicken breast into tenderloins (or open the package of pre-cut ones), you should salt your meat for at least an hour before cooking it.

Like so:

pre-salting meat allows it to be seasoned from the inside as well as the outside (the salt will absorb), and also helps lower the risk of overcooking. I promise it makes a HUGE difference.

While the chicken is salting, set up your dredging station.

This is the point in the process where I realized I am out of eggs. However, I did have the following substitutes: 1. mayo and 2. half and half. So what did I do? I mixed them (Misha I’m SORRY).

I am also sorry to you who is reading this post for having to look at photos of mayonnaise and half and half on this fine day.

But! this does work in a pinch. You basically need something runny enough to dip but thick enough to stick to the meat.

Also, here is another place Mish and I diverge - he kept the “wet” pan as a single one on the station, but I know how messy I am (in both cooking and life), and due to there being three separate spices in the recipe I divided it into three, so as not to mix it.

[somewhere Jake Abel has been summoned to make a few, um, jokes about this...composition]

Next, the “dry” station - i.e. your flour/spices. The book uses pie pans for all of this, I - a prepared individual who did not assess not having ANY uniform cookware before starting this cooking blog journey - only had one pie pan, so these are what I used:

team free will 3.0

here they are with spices for each separate one. do not fear the cinnamon. I too, was once afraid. trust me when I say you will no longer be shackled by your doubt once you have tried this.

also, I went rogue again on the last spice mixture which should just be paprika but I did not have paprika (OP check your pantry before you do the next installment of this challenge), so that is the combination I recklessly replaced with it (and I recommend it!!!).

spices plus flour plus salt (for the love of Jack always add salt at each step, I cannot re-emphasize enough that this is so very important, like Sam and Dean hotel room warding important).

Mix ‘em up.

sigh I can already tell my colors will not be as vibrant as the book’s (I know you, you’re thinking ‘OP you just mixed mayo and half and half, and THIS is the crime you are sad about?? but. here we are).

Next, Misha says to wrap your chicken in plastic wrap.

no, I don’t know why mine is green. let’s pretend its for Soldier Boy.

time to use the meat mallet which I do not have. however, in a pinch - a cast iron skillet will do. (the book also very much advocates for owning one of these and I too am a Cast Iron Truther. the only pan(s) I use).

meat mallet cosplay.

now,“smash that meat until it’s 3/4 of an inch thick.”

this takes approximately 30 seconds to a minute with the cast iron (longer if you have pent up aggression). it’s not a REQUIRED step, but nice for an even cook.

take your flat chicken and start dredgin’ - flour first, just a thin coat

on each side

now take it for a trip to the half and half mayo hot girl summer pool party (or, if you are a real adult unlike yours truly, the eggs you have and previously whisked together for your “wet” pan)

[stop that thought this is a blog for a children’s cookbook]

let the excess run off before sticking this back in the dry mixture for a second coat, then put it on your pre-greased pan.

like so.

what my kitchen looked like at 1:00 a.m.

final touch = the moment I knew Misha, Vicki, and I were kindred spirits as I too like to drizzle melted butter over everything and anything.

drizzle this liquid gold on top of each piece and

pop those babies in the oven at 350 for 20-30 minutes while you write bad fan fiction sentences (well, what I did then anyway)

then slice ‘em up and put them on this plate.

Yes I added popcorn for garnish as a treat.

My colors as predicted are not as good as the professional food photographer’s Misha’s:

But the flavors were definitely there!! Especially the cinnamon. Would 10/10 recommend.

Happy cooking! Asks are open if you have questions or want to yell at me about the mayo thing. SORRY AGAIN OK

#adventurouseatersclub #longpost #spn cast #Misha Collins #cooking #tw: food #let me know if you want me to do a taglist for this and I will #supernatural #spn

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snowe-zolynn-rogers · 3 years ago

Text

Pairings: None

Word Count: 4,120 Words

Summary: Atsushi finds a small friend in the store. Chaos ensues as usual.

Warnings: Age Regression, Food Mention, Cursing, Past Injury Mention, Fighting Mention, Immunocompromised Character, Xenophobia Mention, Overworking Mention, Fainting Mention, let me know if I should tag anything else.

Translations: Ofitsiant?: Server?; Ni, yo tse vzhe znav.: No, I knew it already.; Brechun.: Liar.; Comment vont les chatons?: How are the kittens?; Ils font du bien. Irina a essayé de se battre à nouveau contre mes cheveux.: They're doing good. Irina tried to fight my hair again.; Ce chat vous teste, il suffit de lui aspergé d’eau.: That cat is testing you, just spray her with water.; Et tirer sur mon bébé ? Je ne pourrais jamais!: And shoot my baby? I could never!

BSD Little Oneshots: Chapter 5: Little!Nikolai x Caregivers! Atsushi & Sigma

Atsushi liked to think he did the Agency's shopping well, he was the most effective at least. The quickest was Kunikida, though he messed up frequently. Dazai was the most incorrect, not shocking.

Ranpo was the slowest, Yosano forgot things, Kyouka only remembered her things, Jun'ichiro usually didn't have time, and Kenji was no longer allowed after purchasing only beef once. Their three new members, Sigma, Poe, and Mushitaro, weren't given the opportunity yet to do the shopping.

But, however, finding a familiar person's smell in the market wasn't a new experience for Atsushi. He'd found all sorts of friends and foes in markets before. He'd run into Poe getting fruit for Karl, Chuuya doing his shopping, even Mushitaro once back when he worked for Fyodor.

But this smell, it smelled like popcorn and peppermint. It was weirdly unique and he'd only ever smelled that odd combination once, during the Decay of the Angels incident, made by one Nikolai Gogol. A certain someone who had been avoiding the police for a year now.

He wanted to check, it could be false, his nose wasn't always correct when he wasn't actively looking for someone. Once he'd even followed Sigma's normal smell of cinnamon and ginger to find it was just Dazai's who had been near Sigma earlier in the day and Dazai, that asshole, his scent was hard to pick up, even when he was actively trying.

So he made a sharp turn into the the frozen aisle and saw him looking over the freezers like they'd offended him. He was quite inconspicuous, for Gogol at least. White hair down but kinked like he'd had it up for a while.

He was hidden away inside a jacket, face obscured by a space-themed mask. He supposed it being Winter, he was also hiding from the cold as well as the police. He saw that he was obviously very tired as he got closer, dark marks under his eyes.

"Gogol." He addressed, getting big eyes to look up at him as he grabbed Ranpo's frozen waffles from the freezer next to where Gogol was standing. Now that he was closer, he could also see that it had been ice cream the clown had been looking at before. "Are you stealing that?" Atsushi asked quietly, getting Yosano's fudge bars into the cart.

"No, I..." He sounded oddly quiet, he supposed hiding from police would make one change their voice. "I can't find it." He looked at him and to the ice cream.

"Find what?" Atsushi asked. He'd decided long ago that markets were peace treaty areas, he wouldn't fight someone in a store. Even if that someone was currently evading police, had stabbed him, planted his leg in the ground like a tree, tore the agency apart, and helped start a worldwide vampirism pandemic.

"Peppermint." Gogol sounded odd still but he spotted said ice cream and directed him to it by the arm. He practically lit up and, with the way his eyes held that same look, Atsushi realized he was regressing much like some of the other kids at he orphanage would.

"Hey, come on. Do you need anything else?" He was abiding his 'no market fights' rule but he also was worried. It smelled like Gogol was alone. Who let someone regressed go out alone without supervision? Gogol tried to take his arm away, trying to shake him off.

"No, you'll arrest me." He looked scared. That was the opposite of the effect he wanted.

"No, I don't arrest people when I'm shopping. I have a rule against detaining people in markets." He assured him and Gogol silently stuck by his side, eventually holding onto his arm with desperate hands as he helped him get the rest of the things on his list.

Whilst they were shopping, Gogol had told him of how he'd just got off from working a fourteen hour shift, he could see his shaking, actually, one he mentioned his shift. It had sent him into high alert because what bullshit was that? Fourteen hours without a break to where your employee was so stressed that they regressed in the middle of a frozen aisle.

"And then I'm done. Thank you, Gogol." He smiled at him, getting a giggle in response that let him know he'd made him smile. Nikolai certainly warmed up to him quickly, he was almost cute. "Do you need to grab anything else? I can bring you home." He offered.

"Dinner. I need dinner." Atsushi realized it was nearly eleven at night. Could Nikolai even cook if he was as small as he seemed?

"What do you need for it?" He asked.

"Want." Nikolai grabbed a pre-made bento with assorted sandwiches from the deli and Atsushi led him up to the counter to pay. "I can pay." Nikolai tried to hand him money.

"Keep it. My treat for helping, the list would have taken me hours. It only took about twenty minutes." Atsushi assured him.

"Thank you." Nikolai still seemed so shy, even for a child. Once they were outside, they moved Nikolai's items into one bag while Atsushi held his own.

"We're out of the market." Nikolai reminded him softly, showing him his hands, trembling wrists held together. He expected Atsushi to arrest him now?

"I've gotta get you home still. You need to eat and I need to get these groceries to the agency after I get you home." Atsushi reminded him.

"I'm not bad? Because I'm little?" Nikolai asked.

"No, you're not in a state where arresting you would be right. And I'm in no state to get you to the Agency even if I did arrest you." Atsushi told him.

"I can go?" The clown asked softly, almost disbelieving he would hold to this. He'd done the same for Chuuya once, after a guy followed him around the store. He smiled kindly at him and Nikolai seemed like he was smiling back under his mask as he nodded.

"What's with the mask, by the way? It know it's winter but there isn't any flu yet." Atsushi asked.

"I can't leave the house without it, my immune system doesn't work, I'd get sick." Nikolai was walking with him, letting Atsushi take him home.

"You're immunocompromised?" He asked.

"Yeah, I get sick a lot. I've been sick twice the last three weeks."

"Why?"

"Because my boss doesn't let us wear masks at work. He says they're unsightly." Nikolai admitted.

"Sounds mean to me. You should be able to wear it if it helps you." Atsushi felt slightly angry at that. someone was practically forcing their staff to get sick to appease themselves only? It boiled his blood.

"He is mean. Mister Aoki doesn't like me."

"What? Why?"

"Well, Mister Aoki bought the restaurant I work for almost four months ago and, when he did, the old owner made him sign a contract saying he wouldn't fire anyone the old owner hired for a full calendar year. I'm one of the only five people left that Miss Minami hired, I've been there for eleven and a half months now. Everyone else quit when he began upping our hours and took away our breaks." Atsushi looked over the way Nikolai looked tense. He didn't like it.

"He's convinced HR that I'm lying and I'm just looking for payout because of Miss Minami's contract. The contract said charges would be pressed on behalf of any employee that got fired and the money from the lawsuit awarded to the employee. That's what happened with Annette when he told her to leave last month, at least. Miss Minami did her best to make sure her staff was taken care of when she retired." He looked a little happier, he guessed, less tense thinking about his old boss.

"He doesn't like foreigners but Miss Minami liked having people who could speak to her patrons in whatever language the customer spoke if they were visiting Japan. We used to have these mini-sections based on who could speak what, so we could make sure anyone travelling could speak whatever they were comfortable with." Atsushi would have liked to visit this place back when Miss Minami was running it from how it sounded. The woman sounded like a saint.

"Can't you contact corporate or anything?" He asked.

"I wish. I'd have to be on the phone for hours and I've been working every day for fourteen hours a day for months now. He made sure none of us had a way to contact corporate unless we stayed up all night and came in again the next day. Because he'd give us a write-up if we called out without a doctor's note, which nobody would have time to get."

"But I get more money out of him overworking me, so, at least, I can save up money for now so I have something when he fires me eventually." He sounded resigned to it, actually, like he was used to being overworked. Atsushi could only imagine the hell Fyodor found this guy in.

"He sounds like he shouldn't own that place if he won't run it correctly." Atsushi assured him.

"I'll probably need to quit soon if it keeps up, I can't handle it much more." For regressed, Nikolai knew how to talk very well. Maybe he was fluctuating since he was with someone? He'd only be able to assume but it was likely Gogol never regressed around others before.

"Where do you work?" He asked.

"Minami Café. Four blocks from my apartment. Some of your Port Mafia friends come through sometimes. That dark one? Your partner, I think? Dazai's boyfriend, Chuuya, comes in a lot too, he likes sitting in my section so I'll speak French with him." Nikolai remarked.

"I think I've been there, almost a year ago I think, with Sigma too. My server was Catalina."

"Catalina quit three months ago. I was probably off the day you came in, Catalina used to be my opposite when Miss Minami was there. If I was off, she was working. We shared a section."

"Ah, Atsushi! There you are! Hi, Atsushi's friend! Kunikida sent me to tell you we forgot to put milk on the list!" Dazai reminded him.

"I know, I got it anyway." He showed him the bags.

"And who's your friend? All bundled up and oh, what a cute space mask!" Dazai poked Gogol's mask, making him buzz back to get the finger away from him. "You look so familiar but I can't put my finger on it." Dazai hummed.

Nikolai had stopped moving. Atsushi was sure he stopped breathing, he was scared. He understood it, he was regressed and hungry and stressed. He was overwhelmed with the amount of interaction, he just wanted to get home. Atsushi, of all people, understood that.

"Hmm. It's not cute enough to hide you, Gogol." Dazai's tone went dark and a pair of cuffs were suddenly on Nikolai's wrists.

"Hey!" He protested, trying to get Nikolai away but Dazai was dragging Nikolai to the Agency.

"You get to explain to Fukuzawa why you pinned the Agency for the Decay of the Angels incident. I want it from your mouth, clown." Dazai roughly moved him, Atsushi was following them, growling at Dazai to stop it, that he was just walking him home and they could talk to him later.

But Dazai, instead, dragged him into the Agency and tossed him into Fukuzawa's office, landing on his hands, shaking still. Atsushi had handed the bags to put away to Jun'ichiro on he way to follow Dazai.

"Dazai!" Atsushi roared now that they were behind closed doors, away from the prying eyes of the public. Gogol looked ready to cry and Atsushi wouldn't blame him if he did.

"Tell him." Dazai demanded. Nikolai looked up at the president, who had stood from his chair to look at him on the floor. He looked at Dazai.

"I wanna go home!" Nikolai bit out.

"Dazai, why did you bring me a fake Gogol?" Fukuzawa asked, sitting back down.

"It's the real one. Look at his eyes." Dazai requested.

"Hm. Yellow and white. The same mark on the left one too. I suppose you're correct. Take him to the holding cell down the hall until we can get confirmation and then we'll contact Ango."

Atsushi wasn't fast enough to grab Nikolai to protect him so Dazai grabbed him by the handcuffs and dragged him off to the holding cell, taking the bag off the Ukrainian's arm before locking him in the ability-blocking bars. It wasn't but a few seconds later that Nikolai collapsed, shaking and breathing seeming hard.

"Open it!" Atsushi snapped at Dazai.

"He's faking, Atsushi. He's a criminal." Dazai reasoned. Atsushi yanked the key from his hand anyway, unlocking the door and taking Nikolai from the cell. He was clammy and clung to him, beginning to cry now that he felt safe again.

"It's okay, I'm sorry." No doubt he'd just dropped even more into that vulnerable headspace and he wasn't well now.

"Dazai? Did you get Atsushi?" Sigma came in asking. "Nikolai?" Sigma asked.

"Atsushi, why are you helping him? He could escape!" Dazai snapped.

"Shut up, Dazai!" Atsushi growled.

"Atsushi, why is he here?" Sigma asked.

"He's regressed, he's not in the right mental space to handle being an adult. I was taking him home so he could eat because he probably hasn't eaten since breakfast and Dazai arrested him." He calmly explained.

"Niko." Sigma crouched with them. Nikolai looked up at him with teary eyes. "There you are, huh, Kolya?" Sigma smiled for him.

"Sima." Nikolai sniffled and hugged tight to Atsushi.

"How old are you?" Sigma asked.

"'M two now. Was six." Nikolai whispered, confirming that he'd dropped more when Dazai arrested him.

"It's okay to be small, Kolya. Me and Atsushi are here, you're safe now." Sigma's soft, gentle voice seemed to calm him, Atsushi was grateful.

"What, are we going to let him go too?" Dazai snapped.

"I need to speak with you. In fact, I'm calling an Agency meeting." Atsushi handed Nikolai off to Sigma, who took the clown with little hesitance.

"Hello, baby bird." Sigma greeted him, hugging him close. "Let's eat, huh, your belly sounds hungry." Sigma offered him.

"Okay, Sima." Nikolai happily smiled, letting Sigma take care of him as Atsushi dragged Dazai out of the room and into Fukuzawa's office.

"I'm calling an Agency meeting. We need to talk about Gogol's arrest before we decide anything." Atsushi requested.

"Alright." So Fukuzawa rounded the other Agency members up and off to the meeting room they went. "Alright, Atsushi, what did we need to talk about?" Fukuzawa gave him the floor to speak.

"Dazai brought in Nikolai Gogol today, Sigma is with him, that's why he's not here." The room went quiet.

They'd been looking for Nikolai for a year, he remembered, since the Agency had been reestablished a year ago, four months after defeating Fukuchi and a month after Dazai was released from Meursault on dropped charges. He was reminded that Sigma, Poe, and Mushitaro had been hired on three months after their reestablishment.

"Yes, you were with him, Atsushi." All eyes buzzed between Dazai and Atsushi.

"I was doing the shopping, as you can tell, the fridge is full again and someone had to do it. I found him in the store but you know my rule about causing fights in markets, they're a neutral ground." He reminded everyone.

"Gogol has been here, in Yokohama, for the last eleven and a half months working at a café. he hasn't done anything wrong and certainly, we'd have heard if he did. I was walking him home, I had full control of the situation and I'd know both where he works and where he lives by now if Dazai hadn't interrupted." He reminded the brunette, who huffed.

"Why did you interact in the first place?" Kunikida asked.

"At first, I had found him by scent. I wanted to confirm, I wasn't planning to interact. But he's regressed, he needed help and I couldn't let him walk home alone regressed. Regression is a coping method, some of the other kids at the orphanage did it, it's to help with stress and stuff. You aren't in an adult mindset, you're in a child's mindset. Gogol said he was six before, when I was taking him home. He's now two, he dropped more due to the introduction of more stress." He explained.

"So Dazai effectively arrested a six year old?" Ranpo asked.

"Yes." Atsushi confirmed.

"You two were talking beforehand, what were you talking about?" Dazai asked.

"His job." Atsushi looked at him. "He was talking about how his new boss is xenophobic and overworks him. We started talking because I asked why he was wearing a mask, he's immunocompromised and he's been getting sick a lot lately because his boss doesn't allow him to wear his mask at work."

"That's discrimination!" Kenji whined.

"Yeah, well, I didn't say his new boss was a good one." Atsushi reminded them.

"So what? We let him continue?" Dazai asked.

"I suggest we keep tabs on him instead of arresting him. It would build trust with him should we need a strong ability like his to aid us at any point, while still allowing us to make sure he isn't a threat anymore." Atsushi suggested.

"It does make sense. If he were in a prison, he could easily break out with that ability. Plus the ability is very powerful and useful if we had access to use it." Ranpo announced happily. "I agree with Atsushi's plan!"

"It would be helpful." Kenji agreed.

"Keeping an eye on him would be quite useful, he sounds like he's assimilated back to standard society again from how it sounds." Kunikida shockingly agreed. He expected he'd have to sway both Kunikida and Dazai.

"Alright, if Kunikida trusts this, then I'm for it." Jun'ichiro agreed.

"I agree with Ranpo. He could easily get out of a prison, keeping him monitored and in a controlled environment is a much better solution." Kyouka agreed.

"It sounds like it could be a good idea." Yosano agreed.

"I agree." Mushitaro told them.

"It couldn't hurt to see first before arresting him." Poe agreed.

"I don't like this, but I agree we should monitor him first." Dazai pouted, like he usually did when he was outvoted.

"Alright, so it's agreed, we'll have tabs on Gogol for now instead of arresting him. If he goes out of line, we can arrest him if we need." Fukuzawa announced.

"Hey, guys, Nikolai says he needs to go home and feed his cats." Sigma poked his head into the meeting room.

"He's free to leave now. Dazai, get him out of those cuffs." Fukuzawa told him.

"Niko, honey, here." Sigma held Nikolai, who looked much less pale and shaky now, Sigma must have made sure he ate, and guided his hands out toward Dazai, who unhooked the cuffs.

"Now, let's go home? Huh? Go feed the cats? Get some sleep?" Sigma asked, Atsushi smiled at them both.

"Okay!" Nikolai squeaked out, latching onto Sigma's arm and letting the other lead him, Atsushi following them to Nikolai's apartment so he could help Sigma take care of him. They were greeted to six little kittens awaiting their owner, who sat with them on the floor, distracting them enough to get said kittens food as per Nikolai's instruction.

"Here, kitties." Sigma called the kittens away to eat.

"Annette's cat had kittens and nobody else wanted them since her cat used to be a stray. There's Irina, Viktoria, Zoya, Sichi, Anastasia, and Vladimir." Nikolai smiled showing off his kittens, who seemed to have little to no reaction to him showing them off.

"Well, you trained them pretty well already." Sigma smiled.

"Sichi is named after you. Sigma, Sig, Sichi. I call her baby bird, like I used to call you. And Sticky, because she needs baths a lot because she likes getting into trouble."

"Well, it looks like you're the baby bird now." Nikolai smiled at him, giggling, as Sigma poked his nose.

"I'm six, birdie!" Nikolai whined.

"Still a baby bird." Sigma told him. "And baby birds should get some sleep. What time is your work tomorrow?"

"Job starts at 8:30. The alarms are set for 7 in the morning so I can shower and get ready." Nikolai told them, letting Sigma pick him up and giggling as he poked at Sigma's arms. "Birdie's strong."

"Always have been. You just never asked to be picked up before." Sigma reminded him, carting him off to bed, helping him get comfortable and Nikolai was out before either of his two companions knew what was happening.

Sigma ended up being the one to stay the night and Atsushi went home to sleep. The next day, showing up to Minami Café with Poe and requesting to be sat in Nikolai's section was fun. Nikolai lit up seeing him and smiled at Poe.

"Any specific way to make your coffee?" He asked Poe once the other had requested coffee.

"Surprise me." Atsushi laughed, Ranpo's influence was rubbing off on poor Poe again.

"So make it how I like it, got it. Four creamers, three pumps of marshmallow syrup, four chocolate espresso shots, with nutmeg. Tastes like hyper Christmas." Nikolai's smile was cute, Atsushi liked seeing it, especially when it wasn't forced.

"And just sprite for me." He told him.

"I know you two are watching me." Nikolai let them know, smile not faltering in the least bit, he appeared friendly still even in his body language. "I don't plan to do anything, but don't get me in trouble, I'd rather not lose money getting pulled into a two hour long lecture again."

"Ofitsiant?"

"Learning Ukrainian for me, eh, Chuuya?"

"Ni, yo tse vzhe znav."

"Brechun." Nikolai laughed. "I'll be back with your drinks." He went to see what Chuuya wanted.

"Comment vont les chatons?"

"Ils font du bien. Irina a essayé de se battre à nouveau contre mes cheveux."

"Ce chat vous teste, il suffit de lui aspergé d’eau." Nikolai put his hand over his heart.

"Et tirer sur mon bébé? Je ne pourrais jamais!" He feigned mock offense, making Chuuya laugh a bit.

"I want to take home the most annoying, toddler-looking meal you can manage. Akutagawa's asking me to bring him food when I come into work today and I plan to bother him while helping him." Chuuya asked the Ukrainian.

"No problem. That would probably be the cheese and garlic soup, mashed potatoes, and the flower and star cut steamed vegetables from the kids menu." Nikolai seemed to take a glee from assisting Chuuya in his torment of poor Akutagawa.

"That sounds perfect, Nikolai, thank you." Atsushi held back a laugh at thinking about Akutagawa eating food meant for a baby. Poe was laughing quietly.

"Nikolai, we'll take the same thing Chuuya asked for back to Dazai after we're done." Nikolai held back his own laugh now, as did Chuuya.

"Getting your toddler to eat is difficult." Chuuya teased. The banter between their two tables continued for all of lunch and both of them getting their to-go orders at the end and Nikolai waved them off before they left.

Eight months later, Nikolai's contract with Miss Minami was up but Chuuya had bought the restaurant two months prior from one Aoki Kenzou once he learned of the conditions that Nikolai was working in. Atsushi was very grateful, so was Sigma when he found out.

Nikolai and all the other workers got a full paid two weeks off after he took over and Chuuya had Nikolai help him send out letters to the workers who had left due to Aoki, both letting them know the restaurant was under new management and inviting them to take their old positions back, no questions or interview necessary, if they wanted.

Atsushi was surprised that half the old staff came back and Nikolai happily welcomed his friends back as Minami Café went back to how it used to work before Aoki came into the picture. Chuuya was running it well if Nikolai not being so constantly stressed was anything to go by.

Nikolai finally had free time and shifts that weren't fourteen hours long without breaks. With his new free time, Nikolai was finally able to help the Agency part time and he finally seemed happy and actually well-rested and not constantly tired.

Atsushi and Sigma still got to 'babysit' him sometimes, which was always cute, Nikolai showing up usually with a kitten or stuffed animal and coloring books to either the Agency office or one of their apartments.

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hufflautia · 4 years ago

Text

The Boyfriend

Dedicated to the anon who came up w this idea and to @eatacrackerandstop <3. There's a small Shadow and Bone reference; if you find it, you get a high five✨

Summary: Slytherin and Hufflepuff meet their daughter’s boyfriend for the first time, and Slytherin has a few concerns.

Hufflepuff closes the door behind her daughter, who stepped out to privately wish her boyfriend goodbye on the front stoop, and turns to Slytherin.

“He seems like a sweet kid,” she smiles. Slytherin follows her into the kitchen with a disgruntled expression. He leans against the countertop as she begins washing the dishes.

“What’s taking her so long,” he eyes the door. “It only takes a couple of seconds to say goodbye to someone.”

“They spent the entire night with us. They probably just want a little alone time,” Hufflepuff replies. She glances at him when he sighs and crosses his arms. “Do I sense a little disdain for our daughter’s boyfriend?”

Slytherin scowls.

“I don’t like him,” he states plainly. “He gives me...bad boy vibes.” His scowl deepens when she laughs incredulously.

“Bad boy vibes?”

“Yes,” he says indignantly. “Bad boy vibes! Did you see his smirk when she laughed at his joke?"

"You smirk a lot,” she points out, to which he grudgingly admits. “Besides, is it bad that he can make her laugh?"

"'Course not," he huffs. "But did you see how he put his arms around her?”

"I'm pretty sure that's called a hug, honey."

Slytherin steps between her and the sink. She shoots him a look as water drips on the floor.

“Please get out of my way, Slytherin. You’re acting like a child.”

He takes her hands into his own, not caring that they’re wet. “Honey, you’re not listening to me.”

“I am! I just don’t agree with you.” She continues before Slytherin can object. “You’re worrying over nothing. Our daughter is old enough to make her own decisions on who she hangs out with and what she does with her time."

“She’s only in her seventh year—”

“Slytherin," she says sternly. “Our baby is grown now, believe it or not. I trust her judgment. You should too.”

His brows furrow, and he doesn’t respond right away.

"It's not that I don't trust her," he finally says. "I just don't want her to get hurt."

Hufflepuff softens in this rare moment of vulnerability—his grumpiness and frustration often mask his fears.

"We can't control what happens," she says gently. "We can't control who does what or who hurts who. But what we can control is what we do and how we act." Slytherin remains silent as he considers her words. "I think the best thing we can do is support our daughter. And if things don't end well in their relationship, she will know who to come to: the people who have always been there for her."

Her words sink in, and Slytherin nods.

"You're right."

"'Course I'm right."

He smiles somberly. "I’ve only ever wanted to protect her."

"You will," she assures, pulling him into an embrace. "But you will do so at a healthy and reasonable distance. No threatening the boy."

Slytherin snorts and says, "I'm not that type of dad." He rests his chin on top of her head. "But if he breaks her heart, I keep no promises."

"Good," she murmurs into his shirt. “I'll be right behind you.”

Their moment of peace is interrupted by the sound of the front door opening and closing. They see their daughter, Giselle, standing by the doorway with a flushed grin.

"Hey kiddo," Slytherin smiles.

She makes a face. “I'm 18, Dad. I'm not a kid anymore."

"Alright." Hufflepuff notices a familiar gleam in his eye and tries not to smile as he continues. "Do you prefer muffin? Sweet pea? Or perhaps cupcake—"

Giselle covers her ears. "Dad!" she groans. "Eat a cracker and stop."

He holds his hands up in defeat as he chuckles. "Okay, okay."

"So," Hufflepuff says once things settle down. "What did Dorian think? Did he like us? What about the food? Was my cooking okay?" A look of horror washes over her face. "Oh shoot, should we have given him some leftovers to take back to his family? He probably didn't get too far, I'll go get the food from the fridge and—"

"Honey," Slytherin laughs, resting his hand on the small of her back before she can scurry off in search of tin foil and plastic containers. "It's fine."

"Yeah," Giselle assures. "The food was great, and he loved meeting you guys."

"And we loved meeting him,” Hufflepuff says warmly. “Tell Dorian he's welcome to come back at any time."

"Okay," she grins. "Can we start our movie night now?"

Slytherin nods. "I believe it's Mom's turn to choose the movie."

"I know exactly what we should watch tonight," Hufflepuff beams. They pile onto the couch, and when she puts the disc into the DVD player, everyone but Hufflepuff's face falls when they see the title.

"Aw, not this movie," Giselle complains. "We watched the trailer last week, and you said it yourself that it looked like trash."

"Wha—I didn't say trash!"

"I think you did," Slytherin interjects. He stifles a laugh when she shoots him a look.

Hufflepuff purses her lips. "Ravenclaw and I watched it at the movie theaters a few days ago, and it was a cinematic masterpiece!"

He arches an eyebrow. "So you're gonna watch it again?"

"Yes! Because it’s that good. And I want you guys to watch it with me. The movie has adventure and plot twists and romance—I mean, what hurts more than a broken heart?"

"A severed head," Giselle replies, to which Slytherin snorts a laugh.

Hufflepuff scoffs and shakes her head, but a smile tugs at her lips. “You’ll see what I’m talking about after we watch it, but I need to use the bathroom first. I’ll bring back some popcorn.”

“Can you also get some Sprite?” Giselle calls after her.

“Okay.” Hufflepuff lingers by the doorway. “Do you want anything, sweetie pie?” she says to Slytherin.

“No thanks, snuggle bunny.” He snickers when Giselle visibly cringes. He and Hufflepuff liked to call each other outrageously sweet pet names in front of their daughter for the sole purpose of grossing her out.

“Yes,” Giselle says in a deadpan voice. “This is the exact spot I want to be in right now.”

Hufflepuff laughs and winks at Slytherin before leaving. He watches her walk away before whispering to Giselle, “How likely is it that she’ll accidentally trap herself in the bathroom and we get to pick another movie?”

“Extremely likely,” she replies. “If we put a rubber item underneath the door to act as a door stopper, she won’t be able to open it from the inside…” Slytherin is looking at her weirdly, and she swallows her words. “...I mean, I don’t know.”

Slytherin smiles but doesn’t say anything. Giselle may have inherited her mother’s looks, but she has her father’s mischief.

While they wait for Hufflepuff, Slytherin speaks. “Can I ask you something personal?”

“Sure,” she says cautiously.

“Do you love him?”

Her eyebrows rise—she didn’t expect this question. She takes a moment to think.

"Not yet.”

He nods. "But you're happy?"

"I am," she smiles.

His eyes crinkle. If she was happy…well, that was good enough for him.

“I’m glad, kiddo.”

This time, Giselle doesn’t roll her eyes at the term of endearment. Instead, she takes his hand and squeezes it three times. Slytherin, who taught her the gesture, squeezes her hand four times in response.

“Who’s ready to start the movie?” Hufflepuff walks in with popcorn and sprite, unaware of the father-daughter moment she just missed.

“As ready as I’ll ever be,” Slytherin sighs, scooting over to make space for her. She plops down beside him and settles the bowl between them.

“Oh,” she perks up. “Before I forget. Accio tissue boxes!”

Slytherin looks bewildered as tissue boxes come flying their way. “Do we really need tissues?”

“Absolutely,” she scatters the boxes over their laps. Slytherin raises an eyebrow and glances over at Giselle, who also looks perplexed.

“My teen angst bullshit is about to have a body count,” she whispers as the movie begins playing.

A/N: This fic is somewhat connected to Different Love Languages, another one of my fics. Is the slytherpuff couple in that fic the same couple in this one? That's up to you, dear reader😌

I lowkey hate the title, but I couldn't come up w a better one. Also, this fic was longer than I planned. I originally decided to write something like this:

“Why don’t you like him?”

“Because I used to be a bad boy, which is exactly why I don’t trust him.”

Basic dialogue, plain and simple. But the darling anon who told me their idea deserves a full-length story <3

Let me know what you thought of this one-shot. Feedback makes me happy <3 If you prefer to stay anonymous, the anon option for asks is available! Be safe and well, everyone.

Tag lists are open✨ Let me know via ask/messages/comments if you want to be added or removed.

@slytherpuff-shenanigans @axieleration @sunnniiee @just--another--bean @determinedpines @zenobiagrace @asterinflower @cinnamon-roll-unicorn @mossy-axolotl @dumbbitch11 @hitchhiker-of-the-galaxy @notsowiseravenclaw @arianatorpotterhead @eatacrackerandstop @luciferswife16 @walkinganomaly @asunshinepuff @lewispoolerpayton @adreameratdawn @thewitcheswords @oncergleekpotterhead @princessstoopid @stardustzainy @flvrqnce @multi-fandom-nutjob @eunnieah @iamahufflepuff @1hufflepuff @introvertedrae @princessstoopid @jasminedayz @magnoliamermaid @HOPEFUL-HUFFLEPUFF-PEEVES @peanut-in-the-goal @pufflehuff929 @sophiexteresa @da-fox-rangerrr @dawinehouse @shipping-book-keeper @xxavaloraxx @silverhetdanes @im-a-solanum-lycopersicum @elegantcroissantplaidpony @theoriginaljohnwatsonsblog @theoriginalsherlockholmesblog @vickeyunicorn @arianatorpotterhead @hmilkwhoney @simpering-simpleton @grandcyclecreation @sweetinvisiblewriter @marvelenthusiast10 @mvlpksvthisht @qiaopa @beardedhumanoid @jadefox05 @justanotherperson @inkedintothepaper @minty-malfoy @trippy-morgan @fangirlgeekandfreak @boilyourteeth @absentmindeduniverse @colettedelaurel @halfelven1 @happy-puff @coloring-bud @in-love-with-remus-lupin @autumnpleaves @crakencc @flyme--tothemoon @hedgepuffgirl @littleemotionalpanda @pancakes-and-sugar @korra4321 @aquietkindofthunder @qixnsriess @porksoba @thatfann @hellounicorn @i-have-a-bad-feeling @aasa2102 @zuko-28 @annie-mcl @clementines-x @writtenfoxscreams @randomwriter23 @cryingabtwandavision @coolninjavoid @urfaveslytherin @malfoys-demigod @tumlbr-trasher @violayaxley @wolfpack-arts-industries99 @zainieees-stuff @blueberry-9-pancakes @stressy-depressy @royalelusts

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bloodypapercut · 4 years ago

Text

f.w. headcanons (part ii)

here it is! you’re all too kind to me so i truly hope you enjoy! <3 (I apologize if this headcanon is a bit redundant)

word count: 2.1k

@somekidinacoma

(if you’d like to be tagged just ask, i’d be more then happy to!)

-he talks about you so much, molly and arthur practically know everything about you. as for the other weasleys you all get along and they make you feel like you’re part of the family

-he’s so excited to show you everything around the house, like his room, the backyard, the small fort all his siblings made together in the woods, the treehouse, and all the little trinkets that litter every available space. he’s practically shaking when he meets you at the train station because he can’t contain his emotions

-he can’t wait for the people he loves the most to be together. the thought of you, his siblings and his parents in the same household just excite him so much and fills him with joy

-when you arrive molly has already made all of your favorites because she knew from all of fred's letters about you and arthur is already asking about how your ride was and if you saw anything interesting (his letters are mostly about you, they only contain 2 sentences about him)

-you get along with molly and arthur very well, they treat you with so much kindness and love. molly lets you cook with her and she shows you old photos of fred. you and arthur have conversations about muggle things he finds interesting and about all the fun experiences you’ve had while art hogwarts

-when fred leads you to his room he shows you his first inventions that he made with george many years ago, seeing his eyes fill with pride is one of your favourite sights

-his side of the room is covered with pictures of you and him, letters and doodles from you and it’s so cute “george says it’s creepy like it’s some sort of shrine.” “i wouldn’t expect any less from you.”

-he lets you rummage through the old clothes that are too small for him and keep them. they still smell like him, a mixture of cinnamon, ash, pine, and orange

-sneaking down to the kitchen while everyone sleeps and eating cake outside

-baking 4am cookies with fred, trying your hardest not to laugh and make a lot of noise, but it just ends up with the two of you feeding each other the cookie dough then getting stomach aches the next morning

-throwing popcorn at him, him diving to try and catch it, probably leading to his head banging against a table (pouty fred trying to ignore you but ultimately failing when you kiss him all over his face)

-sitting around a fire with his entire family as they all laugh and tell stories, his arm around your shoulders and your head leaning against his

-water chugging competitions, you always win

-staring competitions, he’ll always pull odd faces in an attempt to get you to crack or tickle you with strands of your hair

-stargazing in his old treehouse, holding hands and falling asleep in that position. (imagine fairy lights everywhere, there's a record player in the corner playing si tu n’etais pas la, you’re both under a blanket and you’re tracing words onto his palm making him guess what your message is)

-he comes up from behind you and drapes a blanket over your shoulders while hugging you and talking into your hair, his speech being muffled

-refusing him kisses before class if he’s the reason you’re late, to which he’ll reply by lightly pulling your hair when you try and walk away from him. he doesn’t show any signs of relenting so you quickly turn around and kiss him hard while gripping on his collar, but as soon as he tries to deepen it you turn and rush through the classroom door quickly

-while walking down a corridor together he’ll twirl you around

-sometimes he’ll just hold you up because he wants to admire you. or he’ll prop you on a desk or dresser just so you’re face to face, so he can look at every feature on your face

-i cannot stress enough how warm his hugs are, they completely engulf you and all you can smell is his jumper and you can feel his heartbeat, his hands gripping at the ends of your sweater then slowly running up and down your back in your jumper and he’ll nudge your leg with his knee as an indicator for you to step into him so there's practically no space between the two of you

-slow dancing, he’ll hold you tightly to his chest with his arms wrapped around your waist and your head will be on his shoulder while you play with the strands of hair at the base of his neck. you’ll have hushed conversations about what you want to do in the future, all the places you wanna travel to together, and all the domestic things you can’t wait to do together (while the catfish and the bottlemen cover of read my mind plays in the back)

-pretending to have mini-concerts in his dorm, using random objects as microphones, screaming, jumping around on every surface that will allow it (in my mind fred dances like jarvis cocker)

-if you’re both singing he’ll claim that you’re outshining him so he’ll try and cover your mouth, which leads to you covering his mouth, which ends with him just him licking your hand and you rubbing it off on him “you did not.” “yes, and i’ll do it again.” he’ll take off running, causing you to chase him

-the two of you sitting next to each other while listening to music and you’ll start to head bop, then he’ll start to head bop together in unison

- during lessons he’ll slip little sweets into your hand

-he’ll nudge your ribs while you’re trying to pay attention to class and whispers to you “i’m so in love with you darling.” to which you’ll just grin and hold his hand under the table, tracing shapes onto the back of it

-he definitely throws things at you randomly, at any given location, nothing that would hurt you obviously

-sometimes he’ll just stop mid-sentence and look at you in awe, his mouth slightly agape and eyes wide. his smile is so bright and genuine, his dimples are so prominent and his eyes crinkle and it’s so contagious, you can’t help but hold his face and kiss his forehead lightly

-he admires you so so much, you motivate him to work as hard as he can because one day he hopes that his business will be enough to sustain a life that he wants to give you, he wants to give you the world and he wants to encourage you to follow your dreams as much as you do for him

-very specific compliments “your earlobes are a really nice shape” “i really like the space between your eyebrows” “ahh your nose is just so cute i just wanna poke it all day”

-he gave you a locket and it has a picture of you and him on your first hogwarts train ride together. and whenever he gets the chance he’ll put it on for you, he loves sweeping your hair out of the way and softly putting the necklace around your neck

-matching rings

-fred definitely knows how to make bracelets and rings, i feel like he’d always make them for ginny and molly on holidays. he’d make you so many, and on your birthday he gave you a really ornate silver jewelry box

-he loves brushing your hair

-whenever you’re staying up whether it be studying or writing an essay he will not allow himself to sleep until you’re done, he says people who suffer together stay together. he’ll also try to shovel food in your mouth and make you drink water or tea to assure sure you’re not depriving yourself. in return, you stay up with him while he’s trying to perfect the products he wants to sell. you’ll sit side by side bumping knees and rubbing his back while he scribbles into his notebook

-sometimes he’ll ask for you to lean your back against his because he still wants to be able to work and be around you, but he gets distracted by your face because he just wants to kiss you every time he sees your eyebrows furrow as you reread a paragraph, or your tongue dart out of your mouth, or a tendril of hair slip from your ponytail and onto your face

-he’s not one to be very hard on himself about attendance, but if you are he’ll wake you up and remind you that you have a test to get to, or you have to attend practice. he’ll help you get ready but as soon as he drops you off he’ll go back to sleep or go to the kitchens to get food for you and him for after your class or practice

-he’s so good at comforting people, he takes it after molly. it may seem at times that he’s insensitive due to his playful nature, but if he sees that you’re frantically flipping through pages, nibbling at the end of your pen he will hold your face tenderly between his hands and reassure you in a soft and sincere voice “why’re you being so hard on yourself? can’t you see how hard you’re working and how accomplished you are?” “take a rest, beautiful, you deserve it.” “i’m so proud of you, you have no idea how much you push me to work harder.” “you’ve got a stunning mind, but i think you should give it a break okay?” “you’re so resilient, angel, you can do this okay? i’m right here.”

-if you have a headache he’ll massage your head. if any part of your body hurts he’ll try and soothe it. he’ll pause occasionally to kiss whatever part is in pain

-(for any female, male or non-binary angels that get their period)he’ll keep his hands over where you’re cramping and he’ll let you curl around him. he even bought you a huge body pillow because he’d want you to use it when he couldn’t be with you. he’ll feed you whatever you crave and he’ll read to you or sing quietly to you (fred with an acoustic ahhh). he’ll constantly reassure you, saying that you only have a couple more days left, and if the pain is really bad he’ll try and soothe you to sleep. fred also keeps track of your period, he’s surprisingly really really good with dates

-he likes humming you to sleep while he pushes the hair out of your face, rubs your back, and kisses your forehead lightly

-if you’re about to do something you’re really nervous about he’ll look you in the eyes, grab both of your hands and encase them in has after leaving kisses on them. then he’ll place them on his chest and give you a reassuring grin

-when he gets hurt from quidditch you stay next to him the entire time he’s in the hospital wing, the two of you playing cards or helping him plan a future prank

-he holds your chin between his thumb and index finger and kisses you softly. you two have to stop occasionally because one of you will giggle, causing you to nudge your noses together

-he’ll wake up randomly in the middle of the night and nudge you until you stir “go to sleep fred.” “nooo let’s talk, i wanna have a conversation.” “can’t we talk tomorrow, it’s your fault i’m so tired.” “but love, all these thoughts, amazing beautiful one of a kind thoughts are ripe in my mind now, if we talk tomorrow i won’t remember.” “isn’t that a relief?” “c’monnnnnn.”

-a lot of back and forth bickering “wow, i’m speechless.” “finally.” “shut up freddie.” “look who’s talking.” “you are.” “no you are.” “no now you are.” “you. are.” “shut up.” “we’re back at square one i see.”

-the two of you reeling over in laughter, tears slipping down your cheeks and gasping for air (all. the. time.)

-during the train ride to hogwarts he leans against the wall of the cabin while you lean on his chest, then you’ll take everyone's jackets and use them as blankets and pillows. you’ll cuddle, eat random sweets, and nap throughout the entire ride

-he constantly takes pictures of you and he has an entire box filled of them, the box also has tickets from shows you went to together, receipts from random dates you’ve been on and little notes you’ve passed during class. he plans to keep all of these to decorate the flat he hopes he can live in with you

-he will randomly run into your room, drop a bag and rush out as quickly as he came. usually there are your favorite sweets, socks, candles and a new book. in return you try and spoil him as much as spoils you because he deserves the world

#fred weasley #fred weasley imagine #fred weasley headcanons #fred weasley x reader #fred weasley fanfiction #harry potter #weasley twins

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sneezefiction · 5 years ago

Text

apple pie & ice cream

Kenma x Reader - Scenario

desc: gloomy days can always be brightened with sweet smells, cinnamon sugar, and a homemade apple pie from yours truly: Kenma Kozume

a/n: to the anon who requested this a little while ago... happy birthday, love!! i hope you’re okay that i switched things around a little bit & had Kenma make you something sweet instead <3</i>

warning: slight language

wc: 1580

---

Some days are longer than others.

You’ve never had a good explanation as to why, but there are at least some telltale signs.

Like when red lights seem endless, your favorite song doesn’t sound as pretty as it should, and you just can’t keep your tired eyes open. Even with a cozy mug of hot tea in hand or the gentle stream of sunlight filtering through your office’s window, the warmth on your fingertips and face simply refused to reach you on the inside.

It also doesn’t help that you were flipped off not once, but twice, by some shitty drivers when you clearly had the right of way.

So you determine that the faster you can get home to Kenma, the better you’ll feel.

You take every short-cut and any back road, impatiently awaiting the moment that you can kick off your uncomfortable shoes and step out of those constricting work clothes. To turn on the air-conditioning and crash into a couch that proves to be far more welcoming than the outside world. Even just a nice, long stretch would do your aching back and heavy arms some good.

But most of all, you long to sink into Kenmas chest and lazily breathe in the comforting smell of home that rested on his well-worn hoodies. To run your fingers through his silky, soft hair and make messy braids out of it while sighing heavily to relinquish the day's grip on your tight shoulders. You can’t wait to bother him until he sets aside his black and red headphones to kiss your forehead and pull you into a soul-catching hug.

Most crappy days call for extra love from your gamer-boyfriend… but today Kenma has really gone out of his way to shower you in sweetness. Literally.

You’d sent him an awfully lengthy text about the number of crazy drivers on the road, the dreary weather overhead, following it up with a recap of your teary-eyed breakdown in a fast food chain parking lot... and you topped it off with just how much you missed him.

So he did the one thing he knew could lift anyone’s spirits.

Kenma got to baking his world famous apple pie.

Countertops were covered in white and brown sugar, apple peels, and other various, scattered ingredients. A store-bought pie crust was preheating in the oven, because only God knows how long it would take for Kenma to learn how to make that from scratch. Spices plumed in delicate, little clouds throughout the kitchen. Everything was coming together beautifully.

Kenma mumbles to himself quietly, a little miffed that he’s missing his weekly streaming session...

But secretly, he’s been meaning to do this for you for a long time.

He’s been dying to thank you for putting up with his incessant live shows and never-ending computer gameplay. For living with him in his rental house even though he could probably (definitely) afford something far more luxurious. And you deserved luxurious. You should be decked out in diamonds and fancy cashmere, lounging on a sofa atop some rooftop garden oasis that overlooks the entirety of Tokyo, and dancing the night away at clubs and galas.

But you chose him.

Simple Kozume.

A smaller-framed boy with a knack for video-games, patterns, and strategy. The one they jokingly called “pudding head” in high school. That kid who used to hide behind his own hair because the world around him was far more daunting than he thought he could handle.

Kenma would rather stay in and binge a series on netflix than spend a night out on the town. He invests himself in playing an overly-competitive tournament of Mario Kart with you over flying out for a highstakes game of poker in Vegas. He prefers nights surrounded in fairy lights when you collaborate on videos with him, throw popcorn at his long hair, and drink a bit too much just because you both compliment each other more when you’re a little tipsy.

You love all of this about him and you’ve reminded him time after time that you wouldn’t trade him for the world… yet Kenma is still determined to at least have this apple pie done by the time you get home.

But as luck would have it, you’re early.

The lock to the door clicks and twists as you slide it open with a few squeaks.

Your senses are instantly delighted by the blooming fragrance of cinnamon and nutmeg. An ambrosial wafting of warm apples and pastry dough permeates the airspace while the added ginger and lemon cut through the sweet scent.

As if the room had just handed over a fluffy blanket and set you in front of a crackly, wood-burning fire, you’re filled with that much needed comfort.

You’re home. And it smells so damn good.

If heaven had a scent, this was it. And you might as well be wearing a halo and angel wings.

“Kozume…?” You call out, wondering if it was really your boyfriend in the kitchen creating that mouth-watering aroma.

“...yes, y/n?” He replies slowly, trying to clean up the countertops, a little frustrated that the pie wasn’t finished in time for your arrival.

“Is that you? Or did Gordon Ramsey break into my house and take over my kitchen?” You giggle, waltzing into the kitchen, the stress of the day being alleviated immediately upon seeing those speculative, gold-speckled eyes.

His hands are in his hoodie pockets, but when your form turns corner into the kitchen and makes its way toward him, Kenma draws them out and sneaks his hands up to your cheeks, cupping them gently.

He leans in, his expression a tad quizzical and somewhat mysterious, and whispers…

“You’re an idiot sandwich.”

A laugh bubbles up and out, shaking your whole body as you wrap your arms around his frame. You’d seen him just this morning, but wow you’d missed him and his extensive knowledge of meme culture. Now Kenma has his arms draped around your waist, hands squeezing at your hips a little. Your flustered but smiley expression spurs on a soft chuckle, a gentle yet deep rumbling in his throat.

“I thought you’d be back a little bit later, but I’m glad you’re here.” He murmurs out, voice tired but so soothing to your ears.

“Mmm, I’m glad to be back… now are you gonna tell me what that magnificent smell is? Or should I open up the oven and check?” The cheeky tinge to your voice causes him to pull away from you for a moment to look you in the eye.

“If you want it to turn out well, I’d keep your pretty little hands away from the oven for the next few minutes.” Kenma quips.

You playfully stick out your tongue but then proceed to place a teasing peck between his eyes, making him crinkle his nose cutely.

“So, when you sent me those texts earlier, I might have accidentally made an apple pie.” Kenma admits, looking away.

“Accidentally?” A grin slowly spreads across your face, eyes glinting with humor.

“Yep. Accidentally.” He shrugs, “I found some ingredients and a pie dish and I just accidentally threw it all together. So yeah, how convenient is that?”

You sigh, rolling your eyes.

He’s really something else. And to think your day had previously been wrought with misery and disappointment.

“Mmm I don’t know, Kozume… it doesn’t sound like an accident to me. I think you did it because you wanted to be sweet.” You whisper softly into his ear.

Leaning back to brush away a strand of his hair from his face to get a full visual of his cat-like gaze.

“And why would I do that?” He teases gently.

“Oh, I don’t know… maybe because you love me?” You poke at his shoulder.

“Huh? Love?” He gives you a goofy look, raising both eyebrows in mock confusion. “...Is that some kind of sauce?”

He tries to keep a straight face, but the quirk of his lip gives him away.

You just stare at him before giving in to another fit of rolling giggles. The hearty, unrestrained laughter overtakes the both of you, causing you to double over and clutch your middle in an attempt to hold yourself up. Kenma has his back up against the counter-top, holding the edges of it with both palms to keep himself steady and from falling to the floor.

As you both recover from aching lungs and that cloudy, euphoric feeling, you can’t help but let a smile plaster itself on your face.

Kenma has done many things today.

He gave you a reason to come home with hope in your heart. He’d drawn you into a heartfelt, soul-refreshing hug. He had made you laugh like nobody ever could. He’d even baked you an apple pie.

But best of all, he‘d held you together.

Like he always did.

Every single day, without a doubt in your mind, you could celebrate and smile. Because you would always have this cinnamon-covered cutie to smile and crack up with. He would always brighten the most mundane of weekdays and find the loveliest of ways to match your moods.

You two are like apple pie and vanilla bean ice cream.

And speaking of ice cream…

“Hey, Kozume?” You bring him into one more bear-like hug.

“Yeah, babe?”

“Did you get ice cream to go with the apple pie?” You ask, your face preciously tucked into the crook of his neck.

No reply. Had he heard you?

“Kozume? Did-”

Cue a huge sigh from Kenma.

“...Where are my car keys? I need to go to the store immediately.”

---

tags: @cherryonigiri, @yams046, @miss-rin, @shou-kunn, @senkuwu-chan, @super-noya, @stcrryskies, @holaaaf, @sugacookiies, @vintgicals, @moonlightaangel

(comment, dm, or send an ask to be added to my general tag list)

#haikyuu!!#haikyuu x reader #kenma x reader #kenma kozume #kenma #nekoma #haikyu #haikyuu fluff #hq #hq x reader #hq scenarios #haikyuu scenarios #kenma scenario #kenma imagines #haikyuu fanfiction #haikyuu kenma #sneezefiction

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hobbitsetal · 3 years ago

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Tagged by @bektheimaginative and @starwarmth~

are you a morning person? Not really, but my son thinks I am.

ideal breakfast? Ideal breakfast? Eggs benedict, coffee, and buttered cinnamon toast.

favorite warm drink, and how do you take it?

Coffee with half and half, or tea! I like all kinds of tea, though I usually gravitate towards herbal, and frequently towards mint

sit in the sunshine or the shade? Sunshine!

favorite baked good? Brownies might be it, but I have a sweet tooth

a song or album that makes you feel at peace? "Woodland" by the Paper Kites, "Samba Nights" by The Peter Pupping Quarter

take a walk with your friends or read a book next to a friend on the sofa? Both! I like to walk and talk with friends and I like to sit and read with them << stealing Stell's answer

what tasks do you gravitate to when making a meal with others? Cleaning around them; I love to finish a meal with all extra dishes clean

a chore that if someone completed it for you you’d love them forever? Cleaning the stupid fridge

favorite board/card game to play with friends? Lol my mom collects European games, so things like "Istanbul dice" are quite fun. I also love Uno and Bananagrams

what kind of snacks/candy do you want at a movie theater? Popcorn and Icee if we're going that route, m&ms and Junior mints if we're going the other

bar with live music or bar with a pool table? Live music, if it’s not too loud << again with Stell

go-to compliment? I tend to compliment people's outfits. It's a quick visual if I don't know them well, and it's something they control

hang out on the couch, the bed, or the kitchen chairs? I roam between couch and kitchen chairs

are you tending the fire, looking at the stars, or singing campfire/folk songs? Tending the fire!!

a favorite Scripture verse or prayer? Oohh...I love all of James, 1 John, that verse from Zephaniah that says God rejoices over us with singing...

are you the person begging to go to just one more bar/sing one more song, the person staying up late talking about love and the universe, or the person who fell asleep hours before anyone else? Usually the person who fell asleep XD

Let's see, tagging @tsfennec aaaand Tumblr won't let me tag anybody else

Scarvenartist and Stealingmyplaceinthesun, I tried to tag y'all ;_;

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nobodyfamousposts · 5 years ago

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Runaway: Roommates AU

For @a-marlene-s and the contest, for the prompt: Runaway

A Harry Potter-based Miraculous Ladybug AU. With roommates.

_________________________________

Marinette was a big believer in luck. She came by it honestly, as there was something of a family belief regarding the unknown force that impacted their lives.

Her Uncle’s luck helped him work his way to becoming a world famous chef.

Her Mother’s luck led her to her husband.

Marinette’s luck gained her a strange roommate and his equally strange cat.

...If there really was a universal force directing fortune as her family believed, she had some questions for it.

It was just Marinette’s luck that the day she met Adrien, she was in the market for a new roommate. She had been sharing her flat for the last five years with her best friend, Alya, and they got along well. But Alya had a boyfriend and they had recently chosen to take the next step in their relationship and get a place together. Marinette understood, of course, but it still left her now as the sole resident of a flat that was outside of her budget and forced to choose to give it up or find some other way to make ends meet that wouldn’t involve giving up food and end up causing Alya and Tikki to stage an intervention.

The choice should be obvious, but Marinette loved her flat and was loathe to leave it. Sadly, she had only been able to afford it previously because she had shared expenses with Alya. On her own, it was more costly than she could afford and more room than she really needed.

But oh...what other place had an extended balcony that was perfect for a garden? Or such wide windows that were positioned to let in light but avoid the sun’s glare? Or had a built in desk and a space she could use as a crafting nook?

She was already having to say goodbye to Alya, she wasn’t ready to say goodbye to her home, too.

But it seemed that Luck pulled through for her, albeit in a rather...unusual way.

When the blond cinnamon roll appeared in her bakery, looking so lost and confused with no idea what to do or where to go, and nothing with him but a suitcase and an equally unhappy cat...she hadn’t known what to think of him.

Well, that’s not quite right. Her immediate thought had been to take the poor boy in and hug him until he stopped being sad.

Then he tried to pay for a single croissant with an overabundance of a strange type of coin. And it became clear that the man was very much not from around here. And had no idea how money worked.

Or how anything worked apparently, given his multitude of strange reactions to things.

Admittedly, she had been a bit hasty in her offer of letting him stay with her. After all, inviting a complete stranger to live with you was...generally not the brightest idea. If anything, it was usually the setup to a horror movie. But Marinette still went through with it anyway.

To this day, she still didn’t know what made her do it. Desperation, perhaps? Attributing it to her luck and not wanting to let an opportunity pass her? Or maybe it was the way something about him had drawn her in...

Regardless, he had no place to go. And she had a place he could use. It seemed like a mutually beneficial arrangement.

She just hadn’t realized just how lost Adrien was when they first met and introduced themselves to each other. Not until after he first moved in and it became abundantly clear how unfamiliar he was with...well...everything. It was no wonder he had been so overwhelmed when she first met him.

She couldn’t help but want to help him.

She just hadn’t realized what all that would entail...

____________

“Marinette! What is THAT?!”

“That’s the microwave.”

“WHY IS IT BEEPING? ARE WE GONNA DIE?”

“No, Adrien, it’s just popcorn.”

“What are these words?!”

“Do you really not have popcorn in the country?”

“Why is the bag big now? Is it magic? Are you magic? Because—”

She just shoved a couple of the popcorn pieces in his mouth at that.

_____________

"Wait, you mean you don't know how to use a washing machine?"

He shrunk in on himself. "No."

She blinked in surprise. She could have sworn…

“But...then how have you been washing your clothes?"

A long pause.

He simpered. “Can I choose not to answer that?"

She sighed.

_____________

“Marinette! Your morning wake-up box is beeping. You need to get up.”

She mumbled and turned away from Adrien and the offending noise.

He frowned. “Marinette, it won’t turn off unless you do the thing.”

She pulled a pillow over her head and continued to ignore him.

Undeterred, he approached her bed. Against better judgement, he poked at her to get her attention.

“Mari—”

A hand suddenly made contact with his face. In an all too similar manner to how she would normally try to subdue the ringing wake-up box.

It would take two days worth of apologies and make up gifts of hot chocolate and pastries for him to forgive her.

_____________

She frowned, looking at an expanse of wall and empty space on one side of the den.

“That’s weird…didn’t we have something here before?”

Adrien stilled at that.

“No.” He answered tersely.

“I could swear there was something.”

“Nope.”

She tilted her head, thinking. “I thought this flat had a fireplace? Didn’t we use it sometimes?” She could have sworn...

“You must be imagining things.” Adrien told her, taking hold of her shoulders and trying to guide her to the couch on the other side. “There hasn’t been anything there since I moved in.”

“Oh. Maybe it was a shelf or something Alya took with her.”

“That must be it.”

“Hmm…maybe we could set up a television there…”

“Yeah, sure.” He replied automatically as he drew her away from the area.

So caught up in her thoughts, she never noticed the dirty glare Adrien shot towards the now blank wall.

_____________

She had thought the introduction to television would be the biggest thing.

And she was right.

“What is THAT?” He asked in wonder, staring in shock at rectangular box with moving images inside.

“It’s a television.” She explained, gesturing to the screen as Romero confessed his love to Julia in the Spanish soap opera her cable had somehow allowed her access to.

She bit back a laugh when Adrien attempted to touch the screen. “Are they stuck in there?”

Omg, he was so adorable.

“What? No! It’s…well…it can play sounds and images from somewhere else. Things that were pre-recorded and are replayed for entertainment.”

He perked up at that. “Like a radio?”

Okay, good. So wherever he was from, he wasn’t THAT far behind on technology. Only early 1920’s instead of the nineteenth century like she’d feared.

“Yes! It’s just people pretending.”

“Oh.” He sighed, still enraptured by the TV.

“Yeah, and there are all different types of shows and movies. Different genres and different styles.”

“Styles?” He asked, finally tearing his eyes from the television to look at her.

“Sure. There’s live action, CGI, animation—”

He blinked. “Animation?”

“Yeah, like cartoons and anime.” She frowned, considering. “Actually, I think there’s…what channel was it on again?” She used the remote to flip through channels until she reached one particular network that was currently playing some anime she vaguely recalled.

Adrien gasped, his eyes even wider than she had previously thought possible. And there was a particular shine to them as he stared at the TV like it was the holy grail. He barely noticed Marinette anymore, now standing in front of the TV and completely enthralled.

Marinette chuckled softly to herself as she lightly took his arm and pulled him back so they both sat back on the couch. Adrien let her, his gaze never straying from the screen as the teen magical girl protagonist transformed to fight the monster of the day.

That was the day Adrien was first introduced to anime.

It was also the day Marinette inadvertently created an otaku.

_____________

One day, he had called her in a panic while she had been at work.

“Adrien?! What’s going on?” She asked.

“It…this thing just came out and it’s crawling the floor! IT ATE PLAGG!”

She balked. “WHAT?”

“He tried to attack it and—wait. Plagg? You’re alive! What are you…NO WAIT PLAGG, NO!”

Marinette had practically thrown her apron to Tikki and rushed home. Within minutes, she had reached the flat and slammed the door open to what could only be chaos.

Or at least the sort of chaos that comes with Adrien huddled with his legs held up on the couch and glaring in betrayal as Plagg proudly sat atop the Roomba that was still making its way across the floor.

And…

Yeah, Marinette couldn’t.

She just couldn’t.

It took a good five minutes for her to stop laughing.

Adrien pouted the whole time, muttering about traitorous cats and roommates.

And Plagg continued to ride the Roomba. Looking for all purposes like a king, even when it knocked into the counter at one point and an empty can of Camembert fell on his head.

Marinette just laughed harder.

_____________

She had slowly been introducing Adrien to the world. Bit by bit. One lesson at a time. And with each day that passed, he seemed to become more comfortable with her and the world at large. And while he never said much about his life before, what he did say (and what he didn’t) was more than enough to paint a picture. One that Marinette didn’t like and made her silently swear to herself she would be having WORDS with his family if she ever met them.

But Adrien had been getting better. Happier. More outgoing as time passed.

He had even gotten a job at the coffee shop as a barista. Which was kind of amazing, to be honest. He didn’t know anything about coffee, but he seemed skilled at mixing things. When she had asked, he made a comment about “potions” being his best class.

Funny guy. Though she wasn’t sure she understood the joke.

There was also just…something about him that seemed to draw people in. Whenever he was working the register (after he had finally learned how to work the machine and count money, and wasn’t THAT an experience in itself?), the number of customers seemed to grow exponentially compared to other days. It just didn’t make sense. Adrien just smiled and said it was part of his charm.

Another joke she didn’t understand.

Tikki seemed to get it though. Her friend was also a bit weird, but she and Adrien seemed to get along rather well. It was like they shared a bond of some sort.

To be honest, Marinette was a little jealous.

But she was happy for him. He was really growing over the months they spent together. Wherever he came from, it didn’t seem to be the healthiest place. Adrien certainly never wanted to talk about it, so the best she had to go on were his behaviors and conjecture.

He seemed happy, at any rate. He was able to leave the apartment now. He was making friends, and seemed to be getting rather popular even. He had a job—not that he seemed to need it given how much money he had…even if he had no idea how to use it.

Who tried to pay for a pastry in gold coins anyway?

Ah well. It didn’t matter.

Whatever happened, he was her weird roommate.

And she wouldn’t have him any other way.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Adrien liked his “roomie”. Marinette was…nice. She was patient and took the time to explain things when he didn’t understand. She didn’t yell at him for making a mess—which he did…often. She smelled like cookies.

And most importantly, she didn’t ask questions.

Oh sure, she gave him weird looks fairly regularly. And she was clearly confused by his lack of knowledge about things that were normal to her. But she never ridiculed him for it. If anything, she was teaching him, and he had to thank her for it—especially for anime. Because this? This was awesome!

She was the best roommate he could have asked for.

Even if she was a Muggle.

He shouldn’t be with her. Or here at all. How could things have possibly worked out this way? Or even half as well as they have?

Adrien Agreste was a Wizard. The son of Gabriel Agreste, a high-ranking official of the French Ministry and personal friend of the French Minister of Magic. He came from a long line of powerful Wizards and no blood pollution.

At least…not until his mother, whom had been a half-Veela.

Gabriel hadn’t known at the time when he chose to pursue her. And it remained questionable to this day whether it had been her Veela charm that had driven him to her in the first place. But he had been furious when he had realized it, and it was considered a dark mark on the family line.

Maybe that was why she was gone? It was certainly why Gabriel had kept Adrien isolated for most of his life. At least until Beauxbatons. But even there, things had been…stifling.

A private room. His classes carefully chosen for him. Personal tutors. And his interactions with other students were kept limited to avoid anyone falling under his charm. But even then, his heritage gave him an aura of some sort. One that made people in awe of him, but only further increased the distance between him and everyone else.

Sure, Chloe was there, and she had been his childhood friend, but the Minister’s daughter did not endear herself to anyone. And when it became known he was her friend, it hadn’t helped matters.

It was little wonder that a number of the other students avoided him.

Other than ones who wanted to use him.

Like Lila Rossi.

He hadn’t known what to think of the girl. She was popular enough, sure. But her stories rang false to him and she tended to treat people around her like helpers rather than friends. He knew from the start that there was something about her that was untrustworthy.

Lila…had an unusual interest in him. One he didn’t like. It made him uncomfortable.

And yet somehow, she wormed her way into his father’s good graces. So much so that of all people, Gabriel had decided to arrange a marriage for Adrien to her. Because of course it just made sense for the two to get together.

Not that Adrien’s opinion had ever been consulted on the matter.

Gabriel was nothing if not stubborn though. Once he had set his mind on something, that was it. Adrien had never won an argument against him. And he knew he wouldn’t win here either. Even when it was his own future on the line. Even when it was his life being decided for him.

So he ran.

It was quite possibly both the best and worst decision of his life.

He had been completely lost and overwhelmed at first. And almost immediately questioned his sanity. But he just couldn’t let himself back down on on this one. Sure, his father had always been somewhat overprotective of him and controlling of his life. And he had been fine with it. Mostly. Kind of. Not really.

But an arranged marriage was just…too much? He ended up gathering his more important belongings into his trunk and taking off with Plagg before he had even realized what he was doing.

Adrien had kicked himself afterwards. He had always given in to his father’s orders before and it turned out…well, not “fine”, but all right, at least. Surely…surely this wasn’t that big of a deal right? That his father was selecting his wife for him? That his future would be set in stone before he even really had a chance to figure it out for himself.

He was an adult now. Surely…he could choose what he wanted to do, right?

Well, he was an adult, sure, but he knew nothing about the world. And especially not the Muggle world, where he had escaped to in a rash bit of insight. Because surely his father would never think to look for him there? His father didn’t know anything about the Muggle world, after all.

Except then Adrien had realized all too late that he hadn’t even known anything about Muggles, either. His father wouldn’t let him take the Muggle Studies class, so he knew nothing about what they were like or how to fit in. He had money on him, of course, but what currency did Muggles use? How did he convert it? Where could he even look to for a place to stay?

Within two hours, he was regretting everything. He was debating giving in to his fate when Plagg had seemed to get an interest in something and ran off, resulting in a chase that led Adrien to a quaint little coffee shop.

If nothing else, he could take a break here and regain his bearings.

But…

Everything had smelled so wonderful. And the pastries looked heavenly. He had known it was a bad idea, but…well, maybe they could accept Galleons here?

How many Galleons were one of these pastries worth?

Well, a dozen should be enough, right?

The strange look that the girl gave him only made him want to duck his head in shame.

It wasn’t enough, was it?

But as if she was proficient in Occlumency and could tell exactly what he was thinking, she instead took him aside and talked to him. And despite himself, he told his story.

Well…half of it.

A third?

A little, at least. Just enough to give the basics of what she needed to know.

And it turned out to be enough, as she made him an offer he’d had to have been a fool to refuse.

That was how he ended up sharing a home with a Muggle. A sweet and strong woman whom, for all of their differences and completely separate worlds, he had felt closer to than anyone he had known in the Wizarding world.

She didn’t understand where he came from. And he certainly couldn’t tell her. Wizarding laws and secrecy and all. But she was still trying to help in her own way. And he could tell her…some things, at least. About his feelings. About his wants. Things he had never been able to tell his father. Things his father had never cared to listen to.

But she listened. And she cared. And she offered shelter. For him and Plagg, regardless of how much a of a pain the cat could be.

He had his own room, sure. But it was a quarter of the size of the old one and somehow all the better for it. While bare at first, the walls were eventually covered in silly posters from his favorite anime. The shelves were filled with books and toys, little knick knacks that actually made him happy to see. Some things Marinette helped him picked out. A lot of which were just things he saw and wanted. All sorts of things he had never been able to get back…there.

And he wasn’t stuck in the room either. He could leave it whenever he wanted. Spend time in the living room and watch the “television” and feed his growing love of anime (once he had gotten rid of the fireplace because he wasn’t about to risk someone trying to get in through the Floo Network, even by accident). Play “video games” with Marinette. Go on the balcony and enjoy the sun. Even just go out into the city whenever he wanted.

It was…a truly marvelous experience for someone who had been isolated for so long.

He even had a job now, working at the very shop where he had met Marinette. He knew nothing about coffee or the machines, but Potions was his best class and one he enjoyed. Mixing and cooking things to create something new was a rather amazing thing. And while coffee weren’t potions, he had come to realize that certain things he had learned in his class could translate over. A difference of heat and changing the length of time the coffee was allowed to roast resulted in a different flavor. Though he did have to fight for the position with another coworker by the name of Tikki, a friend of Marinette’s whom she introduced him to.

And that was the other thing…

“You’re a Wizard, aren’t you?”

He had admittedly not expected to run into anyone from the Wizarding world at all. But the short red-head with twinkling blue eyes caught him off guard completely.

Even as she smiled sadly at him.

“Marinette doesn’t know, does she?”

Dumbly, he could only shake his head in response.

He hadn’t wanted to be discovered. Not by anyone.

It turned out to be for the best though. Tikki was a huge help in getting him more acclimated. She explained to him more about fitting in as a Muggle. She even led him to the nearest Wizarding Bank where he was finally able to change his Galleons to the correct currency.

As a Witch herself, he knew she wouldn’t reveal him. And it was nice…having someone else who knew, even if she didn’t know the full story. She was still in touch with the Wizarding world and could help him. Giving him news or updates, point him to the nearest hidden shops for anything he might need. And yes, even laugh with him over his latest failures.

“It’s not funny!” He pouted as Tikki was practically howling after hearing the latest story about King Plagg the Roomba Rider.

“Yes, it is! YES, IT IS!”

“I even have video.” Marinette added cheerfully, much to Tikki’s pleasure as both women proceeded to look at her cellphone and chortle over the recording. Adrien was simply ignored and left to sulk.

He would never live it down.

It had been months like this, and some embarrassment aside, he had thoroughly enjoyed it. All of it.

He even enjoyed working. Though he admittedly felt a little guilty that his Veela charm seemed to draw in customers to the point where there would often be a pretty long ling just to order coffee. But Marinette and the other workers just laughed it off.

He was…really starting to consider this home.

The coffee shop. The city. The flat.

Tikki.

Plagg.

Marinette.

Rooming with Marinette was probably the best thing to happen to him. He had been trying new things. Learning so much he hadn’t known previously. Seeing things. Doing things.

Living.

It was...nice. It was home. It was everything he wanted in a home. Even if he was banned from activating anything besides the television when Marinette wasn’t there.

He was ever grateful that Plagg had led him to her.

#ml fic #ml prompt #adrien agreste #marinette dupain cheng #tikki #plagg #plagg no #ml au #harry potter au #roommates au

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the-black-birb · 5 years ago

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scars [kuroo]

Pairing: Inked!Kuroo Tetsurou x Tattoo artist!Reader

Summary: Kuroo still holds on to the memories of his high school romance.

A/N: I wanted to write this piece as a birthday gift for @heccingdead bc she writes some of the best angst I’ve read!! But I feel like it got a little out of hand ahflashfslfakslfk also this was highkey inspired by @allywritesimagines and the idea of philophobia

Warnings: implied abuse, minor Kuroo x Daishou, strong language

Kuroo had always been proud of his tattoos, dancing over his body like a mosaic. In the year following high school, he’d gathered so many that at times he wondered if he had more ink than skin.

It was almost addicting, the feel of the needle buzzing over his skin leaving his senses numb. At parties they kept him grounded, always a topic of conversation. He’d trained himself to recall the stories of each – just enough that it wasn’t too personal – without even thinking about it.

He was always delighted to talk about his tattoos – in part because it meant talking about you. At first, it was just normal praise for the artist. “She’s amazing!” he’d tell his friends. “I definitely recommend her; she’s done all of mine.” Of course, he’d gush and fawn over the person who helped him garner so much attention.

But recently, his commentary was becoming a bit different. “She kicked my ass at mario kart,” he told Kenma, who just groaned. Beating Kuroo at mario kart didn’t mean much.

“Her rice cakes taste amazing,” he beamed when him and Bokuto got their weekly brunch. “She taught me how to make them but I can’t get them quite right…”

Bokuto nodded solemnly, taking in all of Kuroo’s excitement. “So, you’re whipped?” was his conclusion after the fourth brunch in a row Kuroo brought up his escapades with you.

“Huh?” Kuroo looked up from his omelet to Bokuto’s owlish eyes. “Nah, man,” he laughed. “She’s just a cool person, you know? Not many people can be artists and bakers and-“

“Gamers,” Bokuto finished, smirking at Kuroo. “You’ve said.”

Before Kuroo could protest once again, Bokuto (to his friend’s relief) changed the subject to ease Kuroo’s discomfort. But the words still lingered in his mind.

You were a lot of things to Kuroo. A business acquaintance at first (and the only tattoo artist near him that he could afford fresh out of high school) but recently a friend and confidant as well. It couldn’t be helped; if you were to hand draw each and everyone of his tattoos and hear his stories full and uncensored you were bound to become close with him.

But he knew there was more to it than that. He’d been drawn to you from the start.

“So why do you want to get a tattoo?” you’d asked him when he first went to consult you. At the time he had no idea who you were, or rather what you would become to him, and he had nothing to lose, really. Assuming this tattoo would be his last and he’d never have to worry about you again, he gave you the honest truth.

“I wanted to cover this up,” he pulled up the sleeve of his shirt to reveal his forearm and the large scar that adorned it. He expected you to wince at how ugly it was or at least show some sort of pity (people usually did, it was why he covered it up), but instead you stared at it like a painting. You didn’t have to say anything to him, for your eyes screamed beautiful as you gazed upon him like a miner finally striking gold. He wanted to shrink under your gaze, to become smaller and smaller. But you were so passionate he couldn’t look away.

“I’ve never done a tattoo over a scar,” you admitted (which wasn’t particularly surprising considering you were his age). “But I’d like to give it a shot. If you don’t mind me asking, how did this happen?” You didn’t miss the way Kuroo flinched away from you when you asked, but were polite enough not to bother him over it.

“Well, I got into a knife fight…” he started teasingly, deflecting the question. If he came up with enough funny stories, usually whoever asked would stop bothering him.

“Hilarious,” you cut him off with a straight face. “Give me the real story or don’t bother,” you asked, cleaning your supplies. There was certainly no fooling you. Kuroo swallowed, chest tight at the memory. Well, it wasn’t like he had anything to lose, except pride.

“There was an incident with a clothing iron,” he explained slowly, thinking back to it. “I got into an argument with my ex…” He tripped over his words. The scars was old news but his relationship status was still fresh in his mind. “…while I was doing laundry and lost track of the iron.” His voice trailed off as he gulped. You’d probably laugh at him or pity him or say something that made him want to get up and leave immediately, all ideas of a tattoo forgotten.

Instead, you kept rummaging through your supplies without faltering. “Must’ve hurt like a bitch,” you hummed, unfazed.

“So what tattoo were you thinking of?” you inquired, sitting in front of him with a blank paper and pencil and an excited smile that Kuroo would never forget. “Let’s talk.”

It was the start of an unlikely friendship. His first tattoo (a beautiful chain of red flowers, each representing one of his teammates from his old volleyball team) was gorgeous, so much so that he found himself coming back for more. To his surprise, you always asked him why he wanted a tattoo (although he supposed you already had to know the meaning in order to draw it so there wasn’t much use in asking) and he never hesitated to answer.

Except for one time, when he asked for a small semi-colon on the area behind his ear. He’d asked you for it out of the blue, knowing it was simple enough for you to sit him down and do it quickly. But his pale face and blown out eyes had you skipping the usual questions and consultations, choosing instead of make him wait until after you got off work to drag him back to your apartment where you could listen to him in the peace and quiet of a home.

He supposed that was when you two become more than just an artist and customer. You were eerily perceptive and so you’d already known plenty about Kuroo; you’d etched his whole identity into his body after all, but this was the first time the two of you allowed it to leave the workplace.

At such a brutally slow pace he hadn’t even realized it, you had seeped into all the cracks in his perfect exterior. In all his ramblings to you about this tattoo and that tattoo and what they all meant, you’d somehow become his crutch to hold him up while he fell apart.

It was his fault, after all, that he’d trust you with so much information. Every tattoo had a story, and he knew most of them weren’t pretty. Yet you always took them in stride, never making him feel like any less of a person.

He wanted (read: wished) that were reason enough to love you, but he knew that wasn’t true. He was a sob story in the making and you were electric. Your eyes made him feel like he was on fire, as if the world he’d been living in was a shitty blockbuster movie and you were about to make it an award-winning novel. You were addicting and loving and you made Kuroo hopeful. But he’d long given up on waiting for a happy ending. Even if Bokuto was right, you deserved better than him.

Still, that didn’t mean he couldn’t indulge in your friendship (or your rice cakes). A casual friendship was safe; he could laugh and joke and pretend you didn’t know why he still covered his arm with the scar even after covering it up or why he’d never quite see volleyball the same way again. As friends and away from your workplace, none of that mattered.

And so, he hadn’t hesitated in welcoming you into his home that same night even as Bokuto’s words bounced around in his head (he couldn’t skip out on movie night, after all. It was tradition!).

“What’d you bring tonight?” he asked teasingly. It was routine: after you’d found out Kuroo had yet so see a single one of your shitty rom coms, you took responsibility to make sure he saw every single one. You’d supply the movie; he’d supply the snacks. It was normal for you at this point.

“Ten Things I Hate About You,” you grinned, smile so infectious he felt the corners of his lips tugging upwards.

“It better be than the last one,” Kuroo quipped (the last one was pretty in pink and Kuroo just couldn’t wrap his head around why Ducky didn’t get the girl), but before you could retort he was off to his kitchen to prepare the popcorn.

Without invitation, you made quick work of setting his living room up for movie night. This, too, was part of your unspoken agreement, especially when he started leaving extra blankets and pillows out for you to work with. When he entered back in with cinnamon-coated popcorn (it was your favorite), you’d already had everything up.

He whistled, settling in beside you. “You’ve outdone yourself,” he observed. As always you grinned up at him, curling up into his side as he held the bowl for you to share.

“You gave me more to work with,” you responded, grabbing the remote to set up the movie.

Kuroo tried his best to relax next to you, but Bokuto’s words were still swarming in his head. He couldn’t like you, it was too dangerous. You were already everywhere, all over his body and in the food, he ate and the shows he watched. If he were to fall for you and if anything were to end badly, he’d be heart broken.

Too soon Kuroo’s mind was brought back to the end of high school, talking with Nohebi’s captain. Deciding to never talk to him again, covering up all traces of him from his body. Getting tattoo after tattoo to forget him and rid his body of all traces of him.

“You should leave.” Kuroo was speaking but he couldn’t hear his own voice.

You turned towards him, looking hurt but unsurprised. “What’s wrong?” you asked, hand squeezing his forearm supportively. He hated the look way your eyes looked at him. He wished you’d look at him with pity like everyone else did. It would’ve been so much easier if you looked at him like he was only a ghost of the past, the same way Kenma and Bokuto did whenever they stopped themselves from mention “taboo topics.” Like volleyball and Daishou and clothing irons.

But you didn’t pity him or baby him. Your eyes weren’t scared at his sudden outburst or worried to approach him. All he saw was understanding. You knew. Of-fucking-course you knew. You, who helped him cover up all his scars. You, who let him stay at your apartment whenever his started to feel too big for one person. You, who suggested he got a tattoo to remind him to breathe (4-7-8, written in your handwriting) and he took it.

Kuroo wanted to be proud of his tattoos, that covered his body as his own personal shield. He wanted to admire your handiwork and relish in the way he could forget about who he had been before them. But he knew they were simply reminders of unseen scars. He swore he was healing while he bled out, haunted by memories of the past.

“Whatever’s wrong, you can tell me,” you told him, voice like a promise. He knew it was true, that he could tell you and you’d coddle him while he cried and make him feel like the only person in the entire world. He knew you were magic; you could tell by the way his muscles tensed that something was wrong. Your electric eyes saw him.

But all he could think about was a steaming hot iron and the apologies that followed. He pictured empty apology after empty promise and letting it excuse pain and tears too many times. He could barely recall how difficult it was to unwind himself from a web of being loved only when it was convenient, how it took him months to realize something was wrong.

Kuroo knew being with you would make him feel loved, but he was so damn scared he couldn’t love you back. He couldn’t bare the thought of using you in the same way he had been used.

“You should leave,” he repeated, pulling his arm away from your touch. He wished he could linger in it, but he was certain too much and he’d be addicted.

He wanted (read: hoped) you would argue with him just a bit. Tell him you wouldn’t leave him alone like this and pull him towards you like they always did in your shitty rom coms. But they were actors who knew what came next, and you were real. So real that he could reach out and hold you close and so selfless that you knew when it was time to leave.

You didn’t say anything to him as you backed away, grabbing your things. Kuroo was frozen in place, worried if he moved that he would forget the warmth of your hand on his arm. He knew he fucked up, but he could handle that. He made mistakes all the time. It was easier this way, he was sure.

Until you were one foot out of the door, looking back at him. “You know,” you whispered, eyes looking somewhere far away from his apartment. “You’re not the only one with baggage.” Your voice trembled. “Even if you were, it’s lighter to carry it together.”

Kuroo wished you had slammed the door shut behind you so he didn’t have to sit up straight, only to see you were gone. Even without you in the apartment, your presence was everywhere. All over his body and in his damned pillow fort and in the cinnamon spread over his popcorn. Even when you were gone, he was still with you.

He rolled his head back, not sure what to do. Numbly, he found his way to his phone to send a quick text to Bokuto.

You were right.

Right about now he’d usually think about getting a new tattoo, maybe text you to spitball an idea. He sighed as he leaned back into the blankets you had so gleefully set up for them to share. “I guess that’s not an option anymore.”

None of it made sense to Kuroo. His last breakup was liberating, like a breath fresh of air, and here was on a Saturday night about to watch a romcom to forget about you. He was certain it was some sort of cruel irony that it was only now he was starting to realize how hurt and in love he’d been.

He wondered (read: prayed) if he’d find salvation in you yet again.

#kuroo x reader #haikyuu kuroo x reader #kuroo tetsurou x reader #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu angst #haikyuu fanfic #haikyuu kuroo tetsurou x reader #haikyuu x you

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shoutosteakettle · 4 years ago

Text

black laced panties • shouto todoroki

⤷ genre: angst

⤷ word count: 1777

⤷ warnings: cheating, mentions of drunk sex, maybe ooc shouto, the use of the word ‘whore’, also an excessive use of the word fuck

⤷ a/n: alrighty!! if the title for this fic looks familiar it’s because i’ve actually posted this fic before,, but back when i posted this fic the first time i wasn’t really happy with it, so i decided to go back and work at it,,, if you look hard enough on my page you might find the original version of this fic and if that happens i’m truly sorry, but i think that it’s crazy how you cann see how much i’ve grown as a writer in five months,, it hasn’t been that long but at the same time it has and i just feel like we’re moving in hyperspeed omg,, okay that’s it for my rambling, i hope you guys enjoy >:)

☆彡

It wasn’t the feeling of the warm sun on your face that stirred you from your sleep or the earth-shatteringly loud snoring in your ears. No, it was the warm weight of someone else in bed with you, something you had not felt in weeks thanks to your boyfriend’s hero job that kept him from home most nights, but the large arm around your waist suggested something different. You laid in the bed, basking the bliss of the moment, enjoying the overwhelming smell of cinnamon with vague hints of smoke.

“G’ morning Princess,” the greeting drew you from your thoughts. The nickname was familiar, though not one of Shouto’s go tos, but the voice– the voice was not one you heard every day. It took you a minute to recognize it, but when you did, you swore you felt your heart drop into your ass. “Katsu?”

“Mmmm,” Katsuki groaned, his voice laced with sleep and his nose pressing deeper into your hair. With that confirmation, you removed his arm from your body, then yourself from his bed, nothing but Katsuki’s thin bed sheet and an equally thin bra shielding you from prying eyes.

“What the hell, Bakugou! What am I doing here?!”

“Stop with all the fucking yelling. It’s too early in the morning for you to make my ears bleed,” he yelled back at you.

“Why am I here, in your bed,” you hissed at the blonde. “And why am I naked.”

“Cut it with the fucken innocent act. You’re the one who showed up at my doorstep last night, drunk off your ass and talking about how lonely you were,” Katsuki [], the details helping your brain begin to shift through the fog, trying it’s best to decipher between memories and dreams.

“Shit. How could you let this happen again, Katsuki? I told you last time that was the last time,” you sighed, “On top of that, you know I’m with Shouto.”

There was silence for a moment, not that you could hear anything aside from the blood rushing in your ears while you tried your best to come up with a suitable lie about where you were to tell your boyfriend. “I didn’t know you were still with him,” Katsuki mumbled, almost an apology. Reaching over on his side of the bed, he picked up a t-shirt and threw it to you. “Find the rest of your clothes and get out.”

“What the hell do you think I’m doing,” you hissed, turning around to throw your shirt over your head, doing your best to ignore Katsuki’s presence completely.

“You don’t get to be fucking angry with me. This is your fault,” he reminded you. “And now you’ve dragged me into whatever drama you have going on with your boyfriend, the same one you told me you ended things with.”

“Well, I wasn’t the one who thought it was okay to take advantage of a drunk woman, so get off your fucking high horse. And where are my fucking underwear,” this was the last thing that you needed right now; there was no need for the universe to rub it in your face as hard as it was.

“Fuck it,” you said, abandoning your search for the missing panties pulling your jeans from off the carpet and over your bare legs, the feeling of the scratchy denim shaking any remaining bits of sleep from your system. “Don’t say anything about this to anyone.”

“Didn’t plan on it. Your keys are on the coffee table, don’t let the door hit you on the way out,” Katsuki called out, watching you smooth out your shirt as you made your way out of his bedroom.

“Fuck,” he groaned to himself, laying back down on his bed and pulling his blankets up to his chest. Katsuki laid his head down on the silk of his pillowcase, placing his hand on the underside, feeling his fingertips brush against the soft cotton of your panties.

ミ☆

“Y/n?” Shouto called out when he heard you open the door to your shared apartment. You took off your shoes and slid on your slippers before walking over to the living room. When you came within a foot of your boyfriend, he reached out and took your hands in his.

“I know I’ve been a bit distant lately, and I apologize. I would never want to make you feel like a second priority. I took a couple of vacation days, and I would love nothing more than to spend them with you,” he smiled, nodding toward the television, which had your favorite movie on stand-by.

The guilt building in your stomach increased tenfold, spilling onto your tongue, tasting bitter. You sent Shouto a small smile before letting go of his hands and making your way to your bedroom. “Just let me hop in the shower real quick,” you chirped, thinking that your scandal had ended before it ever really started.

“Where were you this morning,” Shouto asked, noticing the way you flinched at his question, and you were sure he could see the cold sweat glistening on your forehead- unless he suddenly was blind in both eyes.

“Ochako and Zu’s,” you lied, “I was feeling a little lonely last night, so I called, and they said it was cool if I third wheeled on their date.

“Right… I’ll pop some popcorn while you’re in the shower,” Shouto said, changing the subject but watching skeptically as your body relaxed at his less interrogational words.

☆彡

“Back with the mail already…” your voice trailed off when you saw what he was holding in his hand.

“Hey, Y/n,” Shouto began, reading from the note in his hand not occupied by back panties– your missing panties, “I meant to send these to you a while back, but you’re getting them now, deal with it. Katsuki Bakugou.”

Shouto looked up from the evidence of your obvious betrayal that he help in his hands, his glossy eyes meeting yours. The tears that fell from your eyes fell for a completely different reason than the one fallen from Shouto’s. You were scared. He was hurt. “I only asked you once because I trusted you, but one more time. Where were you the morning you came home late?”

“Shou, this isn’t what it looks like–”

“You spent the night with Katsuki, doing and saying all the things you promised to me. You kissed him. You slept in his bed. You fucked him. And then did the same with me,” he groaned, and you watched as he physically shuddered. “Why? Was I not good enough for you, or are you just that much of a whore?”

The words he spat burned like acid on your soul. You knew there was no excuse for what you had done and that you had hurt him, and all those things made it so much harder for you to defend yourself. “I was lonely, Shou. I was barely seeing you. I- I thought you had forgotten me,” you cried, being painfully honest while trying to save whatever was left you your relationship.

“Is that why you did this, to get in a quick fuck while I was out risking my life to protect my city- to protect you,” he asked, his anger blocking out anything that didn’t support his case. Finally, he let go of your underwear and the note that accompanied it, and you watched as they fell to the table beneath him. Shouto pushed himself off the table he was leaning on and made his way to the coat rack by your front door. You watched, unable to form words, or do anything other than cry as he put on his jacket and opened the front door.

“I’m going out. I want you and your stuff out of my apartment by the time I get back,” was the last thing he said before turning around and leaving your home, slamming the door behind him. Shouto would be a liar if he said he didn’t want to go back and remind you of all the reasons you loved him, the reasons why you picked him, but he couldn’t get past the fact that you didn’t wait for him.

ミ☆

“Fuck off, Katsuki,” you giggled at his joke as he passed by you to get the couch.

“You’re starting to sound more and more like me every day,” Katsuki smirked, keeping his eyes focused on the mail he was shuffling through. “When are you getting your own place anyway? It’s getting pretty annoying having to see your face every day.”

“I’m seeing some apartments later today, so I’ll be out of your hair soon enough. Though I can’t promise that you won’t miss me,” you teased, pushing at Katsuki’s chest and waiting for him to laugh with you.

“This is for you,” he said, leaning over from his seat on the sofa to hand you a smaller sized black bubble envelope.

“Who is it from,” you asked. No one ever sent you mail, for the same reason no one ever called, your best friend broke up with you and took all the important people in your life with him.

“Icy Hot,” Katsuki answered.

“Oh,” you tried your best to ignore the feeling of Katsuki’s eyes boring into you as he watched you open the envelope. You reached inside to pull out a pair of black laced panties with a note attached that read, “You forgot this.”

☆彡: Extra Scene

Shouto picked up his phone, scrolling through his contacts, coming to the last number on the short list of people in his phone. He pressed the name and waited as the phone rang in his ear. Once, then twice, and then a third time. “Hey, Shouto. Is something wrong,” the voice on the other side asked, his voice groggy with sleep.

“Hey, Midoriya. Have you seen Y/n? She’s not home, and it’s late. I’m a little worried,” Shouto groaned, bringing his hand up to rub at his temples, trying his best not to let his darker thoughts get the best of him.

“No, I spent the night with Ochako. Let me get my coat. I can help you look for her,” Izuku said, sitting up in his bed and pulling his blanket from over his legs.

“No. No, it’s fine, I’ll wait a little longer to see if she shows up,” Shouto sighed, hanging up his phone and cutting off Izuku’s ‘Goodbye.’ With another stressed sigh, Shouto threw himself back on the bed, taking one last look at the candles he had lit, the rose petals he had laid out, and listening to the quiet music playing in the background before dozing off.

#shouto x reader #todoroki x reader #shouto todoroki x reader #todoroki shouto #Writing?

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