#fandom paprika at least

[heyclickadee]

If there’s any argument for Tech dying or needing to be dead that I’m tired of—and I’m tired of all of them—it’s the idea that he must have died because he fell a long way. (Obligatory disclaimer that I’m still arguing that Tech is alive and was never actually killed off in the first place, and that that wasn’t dropped but just hasn’t played out yet before moving on):

Now, if Star Wars were a documentary? Sure. I’d buy it to some degree. I’d think that whoever was responsible for the documentary was remiss in not sending out a search party, since real life people have survived falls from upwards of 30,000 feet before, but on balance I’d think that he was likely, though not certainly, dead.

But Star Wars isn’t a documentary. It’s fiction, and genre fiction at that—a caricature of reality which abides by its own internal rules, shifting from story to story, and where both injury and likelihood of death alike are determined by narrative need rather than real world fatality. Short falls kill main characters in fiction all the time. Not always, there’s a degree of plot armor in many cases, but when they do, we see (or “see,” if it’s a written work) the immediate result. Perhaps not as graphically as it would appear in real life, perhaps with some artistic license and discretion depending on who’s watching, but we see it all the same.

Long falls, however, almost never kill any named characters in genre fiction. Not unless we immediately see the body afterwards. Even George Lucas—who, bless his heart, has some good ideas and some understanding of storytelling but has never thought a single implication all the way through and isn’t actually a very good writer—knew that. That’s why he cut Maul in half before throwing him into a pit. And that still wasn’t enough to keep him dead when Lucas changed his mind a decade or so later.

The utility of a long fall where you cut away before impact is that anything can happen in the gap the audience doesn’t get to see. In fact, the higher the fall, the more time the character falling has to do something about it. And what could they do? Well, the story of the bad batch, if we start from where it began in season seven of TCW, actually presents us with a number of different options for a character who found themselves in that position, including:

1. Use their collection of animal calls to summon some giant flying reptiles and ride them to safety (On the Wings of Keeradaks, Tech’s idea)

2. Just use the force to jump to safety and hope someone lies about them falling to their deaths dying (Aftermath, Caleb, can we talk about how “Where’s X?” and “X didn’t make it,” combo happens in exactly two places in the script for the whole show and one is Hunter lying to Cross about Caleb and the other is Hunter talking to Omega about Tech?)

3. Fall a long way in something that’s going to roll around and take most of the impact for them (Reunion, Tech’s idea again)

4. Just don’t die. Or I guess hit a bunch of things on the way down and hope their special armor protects them (War Mantle, Hunter, who doesn’t even break a rib, listen it would actually be flat out stupid for Tech to die in a fall in a situation that’s directly parallel (the terrain, Omega screaming at everyone to go back) to the one we watched Hunter walk away from. We watched it happen once; why should we believe it this time? The only difference is that we didn’t follow Tech all the way down.)

5. Hope the box they’re falling in has emergency thrusters to slow them down (Spoils of War, Omega’s idea, Tech was impressed and I’m sure remembers it, I mean seriously are we actually thinking Tarkin’s secret gondola doesn’t have some kind of safety back up in case it malfunctions with him inside? *Maybe* it doesn’t, but it very well might.)

6. Hope there’s water at the bottom after they fall through the mists (The Crossing, Omega and Tech. Funny how at least some of these involve Tech. Funny how there’s mists like in Plan 99.)

7. Have someone catch them on the way down before they hit the ground, which may be lava (Hunter catching Omega, Retrieval. You can almost count Phee catching Hunter and Hunter catching Phee in Entombed, I just don’t because they don’t fall first)

8. Grab onto something on the way down into the void (CX-2, Extraction)

9. Fall into water again (Also CX-2, Extraction)

This isn’t about actual survivability, by the way. The characters involved in most of these would have likely died if it happened in the real world, especially the ones with a water landing, but Star Wars doesn’t care about that. It will blow people up and light them on fire and decide they’re fine. Physical reality and how any of these would actually go (badly, they would go badly) is irrelevant.

The point here is about establishing audience expectations. We’ve got a situation in which a character whose body neither we nor his family ever see supposedly dying via a method the story itself—not even the conventional rules of the genre, the specific story being told—sets up as survivable. Never mind that “no body, no death” is a genre convention, never mind that “Faster” goes out of its way to set up that Tech works in milliseconds and that if anyone can find a way out of it, he can.

People watching are handed a set of survived long falls which set up the expectation that this fall could have been survivable, too, even if they’re not picking up on it. It’s just enough for people to go, hmmm, that’s weird, and not fully accept it. Which makes it more likely for people to accept that he survived instead if he should come back.

tl;dr: This is the implausible survival franchise. It’s a feature, not a bug, and any arguments about gravity or what would kill someone for real don’t matter.

[tennessoui]

girl your hanahaki au is absolutely wrecking my shit i--- I don't ever read ongoing fics and this is why. I just cannot wait?!? But the waiting somehow makes it better too?!? I'm literally dead bro I can't I love it so much

hahah omg thank you !! I’m really happy to hear you took a chance on this wip and that you like it so much!

not to get on my soapbox or anything but you have given me a great corner to shout from

as a disclaimer I totally understand why people will choose not to read wips and I truly think you know your mental health and what you can stand to wonder about/think about/obsess over/NEED to know a conclusion for better than anyone else

BUT as a writer who almost exclusively posts in wips, people reading them before they’re finished is my life blood and I am so grateful and it makes the writing process so much more fun for me because I know at least someone else is invested in my brainworm of a story?? someone else is enjoying it and thinking about it and I’m putting a small amount of good into the world??

the best analogy I’ve been able to come up with is like:

when you read a finished fic you’re eating a whole meal and that’s great that’s so amazing (especially if you tell the cook you liked it after you’re done). and you’re literally always welcome to eat that meal whenever you want. finished fics are like standing dinner invitations: I am always happy to have you and I mean that very genuinely

but if you read a wip, you’re keeping me company in the kitchen while I cook. and that’s sort of priceless. in some instances, you can even tell me the food needs more spice and I’ll think about it and listen!!! you’re sitting on my kitchen counter as I bustle around my space and we’re talking about what I’m doing and also how I’m feeling and maybe how you’re feeling and it just feels like community more than anything else I’ve experienced in any fandom. like you’re with me in my space as I’m creating food I hope you like. we’re both invested and it’s amazing

and I think in general that’s why wips are a lot of fun and also maybe why the waiting between chapters is fun for you - you’ve suggested that I add paprika to the pot and you’re waiting and wondering if I will, and I’m laughing and hoping you like the soup either way but also wondering if paprika will work with the recipe, and if I can add a bit to it just for you while staying true to the dish I envisioned at the get go.

[aaajaxolotl]

Feast Your Eyes: Fandom Cookbook Recipe Review #9

The Stars are A-Lime-Ing - Avatar: The Official Cookbook of Pandora

Tonight's menu: sourced from Avatar: The Official Cookbook of Pandora

Main Dish: Warrior Wings, pg 56

BONUS Main Dish: RDA Corn Ribs, pg 58

Full review under the cut!

Aurum Leuci’s Log:

[Begin recording.] Visiting the Terran outpost on Pandora. Not much to report, but they’ve done some great things with vegetables on this planet. It seems like Earth plants grow way better here- who knew? Anyway, I hope to have something more to report on my next log. Aurum Leuci out. [End log.]

Please see this post for my full review scale!

Main Dish: Warrior Wings

RATING:

Difficulty: 5/5

Ingredients: 5/5

Immersion: 5/5

Time: 5/5

End Result: 5/5

TOTAL RATING: 25/25

I was very skeptical of this dish. I hate cauliflower (don’t @ me) and was worried that I would probably just not end up eating any of it. Turns out I don’t hate cauliflower prepared like this. Both these and the ribs were baked rather than fried, which— while time-consuming— was absolutely great. While it’s weirdly “earthling”, for a Pandora cookbook, since it’s in RDA rations, I’ll give it a pass. The cajun lime glaze was too good for me to want to take points off!

(Bonus) Main Dish: RDA Corn Ribs

RATING:

Difficulty: 2/5

Ingredients: 5/5

Immersion: 3/5

Time: 5/5

End Result: 5/5

TOTAL RATING: 20/25

These “ribs” were good… but honestly, they were just fancy corn on the cob. While I think most corn on the cob should be prepared this way (you don’t need to get a plastic handle or anything, it’s great!) the corn isn’t really the star of its own dish. The lime and paprika “ranch”, on the other hand… delicious. I ended up using it on both the corn and the wings, and I feel like it really elevated both. I think this recipe could’ve used a glaze similar to the wings, applied after it came out of the oven, because it felt like the corn was a little under-seasoned (at least in my opinion). My family didn’t seem to think so, though. I may just be biased against corn. Either way, I would definitely make it again… if someone was cutting the corncobs for me. (My dad helped with that this time, and it was hard even for him. I really wish they’d just sell it like that in the store…)

[midnights-wish]

thank you for tagging me, @ableedingpromise! <3

rules: answer & tag 9* people you want to know better and/ or catch up with!

*ahem ahem, let's just pretend that doesn't exist, yes?

› favorite colour: green & purple!

› last song: 'linger' by the cranberries ♡ › currently reading: 'the mill house murders' by yukito ayatsuji

› currently watching: 'undead murder farce' (kinda, at least; i haven't watched an episode in months, but i'm still very determined to finish it; it's really good), & i've started the last season of monk

› currently craving: halloumi. halloumi, grilled, with some oil and garlic. also, grilled on a schaschlik with onions, paprika, champignons, zucchini and little potatoes. maybe throw some mozzarella on some of the schaschliks, too. i know that one probably won't work very well, but i'll find a way by using brute force & sheer desperation

› coffee or tea: coffee, in any of its variations

i'm tagging: @rains-melody; @saikoma; @lalectoracaimitena; @fandom-star-gazer; @playingwrongnotes; @bunnihearted; @sora9x

[purpleyin]

Fun Stuff!

Thank you @sunshinebunnie for the tag!

✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨

What fandom currently holds your fixation?

Definitely Six of Crows and Shadow and Bone. Though I've been thinking about Fringe, Free Rein, and Stargate Atlantis more lately too

Write, read or draw?

Write, but I hadn't had energy to do more than plan things lately. I'd love to get back into reading fanfic again too, but I don't have focus for anything more than slightly long. I have read a bit more for books lately though. Would love to learn to draw better but again, where is the time/energy

Favorite color?

This varies and I have multiple anyhow. I've been feeling forest green more this year

Favorite snack foods?

How to pick...Reese's cups are high up there but I don't have often. Paprika crisps. Crunchy seaweed snacks but I can't eat that too often because I worry about getting too much iodine. Can raspberries count?

What show are you currently watching?

'The Law According to Lidia Poët' and 'Spinning Out'

Currently reading?

I'm slowly reading RWRB right now

If you could be a character for one day in a TV show you love - who would it be?

Someone with a nice life, have a bit of a luxurious break. But I can't think who really since I mostly know angsty characters and all the millionaires seem to be vigilantes with far too much trouble going on

And last but not least, what is the one place in the world you wish you could visit?

Japan. I'd love to go see the cherry blossoms, Mount Fuji, the architecture and cultural sights, eat lots of sushi, try more Japanese sweets (mmm doriyaki)

Tagging but no pressure to do: @sophiainspace @starstruckpurpledragon @takeunknownroadnow @mrdcoolblue @battys-home

[firstprince-ao3feed]

Chef's Kiss

by aforgottennymph “What’s this?” “My dad said it’s for you.” She shrugs, “I didn’t read it. He said it’s for grown up eyes.” He takes it carefully, glancing between the girl and the piece of paper as she looks at him expectantly, gesturing for him to open it. 3/10, it reads, appreciate the effort sweetheart but dear god please invest in some paprika at least. looking forward to whatever you manage to cook up today. personally i have a hankering for tamales. ;) - alex It really is a testament to how painfully single he is that a note from a faceless lawyer is enough to make him blush, while said lawyer’s daughter stares at him with her arms folded, foot tapping impatiently against the tiles. “Well?” Thankfully, when he was googling dishes, tamales was one of the most frequent answers, so he has enough to pull it off, “Looks like we’re making tamales.” The girl Pez babysits from the shelter should be completely intimidating, utterly terrifying. Instead he finds himself completely under her spell as she takes on the utterly Herculean task of teaching him to cook. It helps that he may be falling in love with her dad at the same time. Words: 12182, Chapters: 1/1, Language: English Fandoms: Red White & Royal Blue - Casey McQuiston, Red White & Royal Blue (2023) Rating: Mature Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings Categories: M/M Characters: Alex Claremont-Diaz, Henry Fox-Mountchristen-Windsor, Percy "Pez" Okonjo, David the Beagle (Red White & Royal Blue) Relationships: Alex Claremont-Diaz/Henry Fox-Mountchristen-Windsor Additional Tags: Texting, Bad Cooking, Cooking Lessons, Friendship, Fluff, Domestic Fluff, Getting Together, Falling In Love, Friends to Lovers, Single Parent Alex Claremont-Diaz, Writer Henry Fox-Mountchristen-Windsor, Fluff and Humor, No Beta We Die Like Henry's Pancakes, Schmoop, Mutual Pining, Henry Fox-Mountchristen-Windsor Loves Alex Claremont-Diaz, POV Henry Fox-Mountchristen-Windsor via https://ift.tt/41jVlwt

[navree]

Get to know the blogger

Tagged by my dearest @lemonhemlock

Share your wallpaper: my phone lock screen and home screen are me with my boss joe and me meeting ethel kennedy respectively. my old laptop's (that i still use for work stuff because it's the one that has word downloaded on it) wallpaper is a picture of alone together by maria kreyn, my current laptop's wallpaper is a detail of il bacio by francesco hayez.

Last song you listened to: i can't go on without you by kaleo.

Last Show: i'm rewatching the originals, i honestly could not tell you the last new tv show i consumed, closest i can get is that i recently finished a complete re-binge of all four seasons of wolf 359.

Craving: honestly just good ciabatta with some homemade mayo that my mom makes (it's more acidic than storebought because i like things acidic and we tend to eat it with asparagus). also a roast chicken.

What you are wearing right now: i'm feeling lazy cuz i'm done with school until the fall so i'm honestly in my loungewear, which is basically black cashmere sweatpants and my pajama top (it's beige).

How tall are you: 5'8.

Piercings: none, i have a horrendous pain tolerance.

Tattoos: none, see above.

Glasses or contacts: i am the only person in my immediate family who doesn't need glasses at all, i've got perfect vision. i lord it over my little sister constantly cuz she's basically blind as a bat.

Last drink: tap water with ice.

Last thing you ate: chicken rubbed in smoked paprika, onion powder, garlic powder, a bit of famous dave's, and olive oil, cooked in the pan with a bit of olive oil, a modified version of toum, leftover baguette, strawberries, and then a chocolate chip cookie. i'd planned on making rice but then i forgot.

Favorite color: red i think.

Current obsession: adhd means i've got twenty thousand on a given day that are all cycling through my head at top speed and have been for at least a year, but this week it appears to be batfam (bruce wayne was little amelie's very first blorbo) and an asoue resurgence due to the recent fandom gift exchange and all the subsequent content i've been consuming.

Favorite fictional character: right now, victor frankenstein.

The last place you traveled: my family splits our time between seattle and carmel, california, and as i'm in seattle right now, that means the last place i traveled was carmel.

Gently tagging (no pressure): whoever wants me to learn all of their secrets <3

[miksblog28]

Fandom Cookbook

'Drake's Culinary Chronicles,' is a cookbook I created that combines the flavors of Drake's music and his favorite dishes. In this cookbook, we explore the fusion of music and food, just like Drake's music combines different genres and emotions. Each recipe is inspired by a Drake song, album, or personal favorite, creating a dining experience that's as diverse and unforgettable as his discography.

Recipe: "Hotline Bling Spicy Chicken Wings"

Inspiration: The song "Hotline Bling" is all about those late-night calls and dance moves. These spicy chicken wings are perfect for a late-night gathering with friends or for dancing the night away, just like Drake does in the music video.

Ingredients:

2 lbs of chicken wings

1/4 cup of hot sauce

2 tbsp of honey

1 tsp of paprika

1 tsp of garlic powder

1 tsp of onion powder

Salt and pepper to taste

Vegetable oil for frying

Instructions:

In a large bowl, combine the hot sauce, honey, paprika, garlic powder, onion powder, salt, and pepper. Mix well to create the marinade.

Place the chicken wings in a separate bowl and pour the marinade over them. Make sure the wings are evenly coated. Cover and refrigerate for at least 2 hours, or overnight for best results.

Heat the vegetable oil in a deep fryer or large pot to 350°F (175°C).

Carefully place the marinated chicken wings into the hot oil and fry until they are golden brown and crispy, about 10-12 minutes.

Remove the wings from the oil and drain on paper towels.

Serve your "Hotline Bling Spicy Chicken Wings" with your favorite dipping sauces and enjoy them while dancing to Drake's music.

Note:

These spicy chicken wings are sure to be a hit at your next gathering, and they pair perfectly with Drake's music. Just like Drake's songs, they have a mix of flavors, a touch of heat, and a whole lot of charisma.

[anaid-queen]

thanks for the tag! ^^ as usual i won't be tagging anybody but i'll try to answer without spiralling or rambling :'D

last song listened to: no idea honestly and my phone doesn't show me, but i'll claim Home by Dotan as my answer because i've been listening to it a lot lately

currently watching: (thank fuck i am actually currently watching smth for a change) Vampire Diaries! on S3, only semi-enjoying it but i love an ensemble cast and do want to see where this is going lol

three ships (reading this as "three ships currently on my mind"): Armandiel, Cecilos, Wyllstarion tried to pick from three different fandoms

favorite color: i love green to wear or to decorate with (or generally for most things), but my favorite color is red

currently consuming: just had breakfast! breadrolls, tea, cheese, paprika :3

relationship status: just rejected a really sweet guy and feeling like shit ahem, single still 🤷🏻‍♀️

last movie: i... honestly don't remember. i think it was Resident Evil: Death Island ?? but i only skipped through it a bit (i'm not a movie person)

currently working on (i assume this is about writing): too much and nothing at all. last thing i touched was my greatest passion project, Redshirts, but i SHOULD be finishing up at least some of my near-done WIPs for various other fandoms 🙈🙈😅

thanks for the tag @julyzaa!

Last Song: Hold My Hand by Hottie and the Blowfish

Currently Watching: Magnificent Century (Suleyman Arc), GoT Season 2, and The Last Promise (Fantasy C-Drama on Netflix)

Three Ships: oooooh! Jon x Sansa, Jace x Helaena, Fjord x Jester

Favorite Color: Blue, Purple, Pink

Currently Consuming: Cool Blue Gatorade and a quest chocolate bar

Relationship Status: Single and Loving It

Last Movie: Sleeping Beauty (Animated)

Currently Working On: Chapter 15 for Maiden

no pressure tags: @acrossthesestars, @corporalicent, @mihrsuri, @theladyelizabeth, @selfproclaimedunicorn, @murmel-malt, @mimikoflamemaker, @stannisfactions, and anyone else who would like to! (and just say I tagged you!)

[whattheheckmidoriya]

Ok i thought of something adorable, y’know how theres that one picture of Aizawa in the back seat of the car with Eri in the manga? And how when they were going to visit the prison Present Mic was the one driving the car and not Aizawa, so none of us have seen him drive and now half the fandom assumes he can’t, ok so wait, and you know how you shared that one of your biggest headcanons for Aizawa is that he’s a hand holder? Or he loves holding hands. OK OK so imagine that the time he chooses to hold your hand the most is when you drive him. Because he’s not a huge PDA guy, but in the car its like private. So he gets very clingy holding your hand whenever you’re in the drivers seat so you have to use one hand on the wheel and the other is holding his hand while you’re stopping for a red light. And when you take your hand away to drive again he does his signature pout. AHHHH 😭🥺 -Paprika.

THIS IS ADORABLE I—🥺🥺💖

I genuinely love the idea of Aizawa not being the driver!

Chances are he does know how to drive, but chooses not to because having to focus so intensely on the road strains his eyes too much. So, you're the designated driver. Always. He feels safe when you're behind the wheel, he trusts you enough to not be a passenger-seat driver like he would with Hizashi.

It's no secret you're a couple— that secret was out when Mic accidentally slipped up in the teacher's lounge one day. However, that didn't mean Aizawa would magically be open to physical affection in public. He's still getting used to the fact you're together; he's afraid to mess up the one good thing in his life. So he keeps his expressions of love subtle for the most part. A hand to your waist keeping you close in a crowded place. The shy tangling of his pinky finger around your own. That's as far as he can go in public, at least for now.

In private, though? He's bolder with his gentle expressions of love. Soft kisses to your knuckles. Scarred fingers gently tracing the shape of your eyes. In the car, he loves holding your hand. He likes tracing circles over the palm of your hand, adores how you bite back a giggle at how his touch tickles you

Touch reassures him you're there, helps him realize that you're there with him. Touch comforts him in knowing you're safe. Touch means he can feel your rhythmic pulse under the tips of his fingers whenever he caresses the skin of your wrist.

[honey-milk-depresso]

Love Unholyc: S/o is a Coder

Heyyy~ so- I’m also kinda new to this fandom, and it’s quite a small one. I hope people come to know more of this game and I know it’s like a little...spicy..so, play at your own risk if ya don’t do spicy. But this is purely fluff (Okay, with some paprika spice. But it’s only a teaspoon-). Hope you enjoy!

Jung Hi

Oooh-

That’s so cool!!

When he first heard that, he thought you must be like some under agent hacker spy or something-

And we he saw you just coding and reading the python script,

he thought he saw some alien language on your computer.

That looks really complicated!

You must be really smart being able to crack codes, program them, and frickin’ read them.

From my personal learning experience,

learning coding from scratch, is definitely no easy tasks.

It requires a shit ton of patience and dedication to even continue your learning in coding.

So he thinks you’re such a strong and dedicated person!

Idk why, he would find it cute, but yeah he thinks your cute.

And I like to think you would most likely stay in an air conditioned room,

just wearing a poofy jacket cuz it’s super cold-

and he thinks you look cute in it but-

YOUR HEALTH MY DEAR-

LEAVE YOUR ROOM,

GET SOME FRESH AIR-

YA CAN’T JUST STAY IN THERE FOREVER-

he’s dragging you out of your room at least after 3 hours.

Aren’t your eyes soar????

He’s going to make sure you get all the hugs, the food, some exercise maybe, and of course the kisses.

Obviously-

He’s gonna pepper you in kisses in a cute manner cuz that’s who he is.

He loves you for who you are.

And it hurts him when you overwork yourself.

So please let this dear precious boy love you <3

Han Sol

Oh?

A coder?

I think during his mafia days, he must have hired coders and hackers to carry out searching secret information,

and like carry out blackmailing or something-

Idk-

But it doesn’t matter-

Cuz he thinks your python scripts are just-

like-

Holy frick what is he seeing??? Alien language????

Especially when there’s like, what-

3 screens your handling,

one with Atom , the interpreter-

Geez dude

It’s a bUnCH OF FRICKIN MATH-

And like I said, coding is very hard,

and takes a lot of patience and dedication from an individual,

you being able to master a very complex skill, shows how dedicated, willing and mentally strong of a person you are.

And he thinks it’s the most attractive thing about you-

I mean the big bonus is that you’re dead drop gorgeous obviously,

but personality is what is truly shows the real beauty of a person.

So he really admires and loves you for that.

Oh damn, pansexual Sol??? Count me in-

Ok but,

Like for Hi, I can see you stuck in your room 24/7 just coding-

Surviving on canned drinks, chips and leftovers.

So leave it to him to treat you real food.

Fresh, baked sweets, just cooked fresh, baked fresh, everything fresh fam-

He let’s you eat all his sweets and chocolates.

Okay but not too much.

He’s bringing you to go walk with him in a park,

and maybe give you a haircut once a month.

He will treat every one of your physical pain-

Even if your shoulders only feel slightly stiff,

he WILL massage you.

Lie back down.

He will give you love and care, s/o. <3

[ofwraithsandwords]

Ok, hot take time...

There needs to be more intimidating Hellsing OCs. Like just imagine Seras and Integra in a room and see the furniture just starting to shake a little bit as an OC just struts in and says, "Hey do you two want anything from the store when I go?" and they see a massive himbo that's as tall as Alucard and built like a tank and has a few scars on his face but he's smiling and dressed in colorful clothes. Like that would be so jarring in a good way.

I was just talking about OC stuff with a friend lol.

Yeah, honestly, I feel like it doesn't make a whole lot of sense when someone makes an OC for Hellsing and they're NOT intimidating in some way. I honestly can't think of a single character in Hellsing that isn't twisted, either in appearance or their actions. Maybe Schrödinger, but him jabbing himself with a knife to the jugular was pretty unsettling. And The Major is just pathetic, but he doesn't count lmao.

Another hot take though: it seems like a lot of the OCs in the fandom are...basically the same. It's the same thing over and over again. And what I mean is: skinny, conventionally attractive white girl. And please don't be mistaken: it's not the fact that the OCs are white, female, and good-looking that is the problem. The problem is just as I said: they're all the same—at least in appearance. No noticeable flaws, no disproportions, no defining traits that make them stand out and dynamic. Just...plain.

Now, here's the thing:

I'm no authority on OC creation. My own OCs always have room for development and, honestly, some of the design and power choices I've made for them are kinda bullshit. Which leads me to my next point.

It's not lost on me that OCs are made for fun. Admittedly, I'm pretty hard-core when it comes to making OCs and writing, but I know that this is just a hobby for most people. Something to enjoy and pass the time. I'm not going to tell anybody how they should live their life, for Christ's sake. Especially when it comes to imagining up fictional characters.

This is just my opinion. It's certainly criticism, but no one is obliged to take it. And it's certainly not my intention to discourage anyone from making an OC that might fall under this category. I mean, shit, I'm just some random bitch on the Internet. My opinion only matters as much as you're willing to have it matter.

But if you are worried about your OC now (because I know a lot of you have anxiety like I do too tbh), you don't have to change your OC fundamentally and rewrite the whole character. Start small. Things like freckles, a big nose, a little scar, a gold tooth, a birth mark, etc, etc. There's nothing wrong with making an attractive OC or even making your idealized self. Just sprinkle little details in there, ya know?

Like...Hungarian paprika. Something that would make Jonathan Harker love you.

[fandom-necromancer]

I’m only human

This was prompted by an amazing anon! Enjoy!

Fandom: Detroit become human | Ship: Reed900 (Warnings: gun related injury)

‘Gavin! Duck!’ The human let himself fall immediately and only due to Nines advanced preconstruction software he had made it in time. The hail of bullets pierced the wall behind Gavin a second later. Nines had taken cover behind a wall and waited for the immediate fire to subside, then turned around and emptied his magazine, before dropping behind a counter to reload. He heard Gavin shoot his own gun and turned to see what was happening. With shock he noticed that the man was about to leave relative safety to pursue the attackers that had decided to make a run for it. Normally, Nines wouldn’t have worried so much as Gavin was well trained, but they had just been caught whilst investigating the place and the man didn’t wear a bulletproof vest. This was too much of a risk.

Cursing, Nines hurried to reload and stepped out of cover to follow Gavin. He sprinted after the man that had already made it to the next room. It was the large kitchen of the restaurant they were in, but still the door they had entered through had been the only one, so he had the attackers cornered. And they knew it. Maybe it was panic, maybe it was them thinking to have the two detectives outnumbered, but they began shooting at them once again and this time, Nines wasn’t fast enough. He leapt for Gavin to make him fall to the ground next to the middle isle, but Gavin had already been shot twice in his arm. ‘Stay down!’, Nines ordered unforgivingly and took Gavin’s hand to show him how to press on the wound. Then he stepped out, both their guns in hand and made them pay for shooting his partner. As they laid on the ground groaning, Nines decided not to go through the procedures and arrest them all. Not when Gavin needed his help.

‘I called the DPD for backup as soon as we met them, Gavin’, he reassured the man as he knelt down next to him. ‘They will be here soon. I also called an ambulance. You will be fine, trust me.’ ‘Yeah? Because it hurts like a bitch, I can tell you that.’ Nines nodded, taking over pressurizing the wound as he could scan for damage. Gavin had suffered multiple fractions from the gunshots and was in severe pain. That he was awake at all was a miracle. But that also meant he couldn’t move him. Nines had to wait until the paramedics came to them. He already hated waiting under normal conditions, but this was outright torture.

Thankfully it didn’t take too long and when the police stormed the place to find all presumed members of the drug ring neutralized, the paramedics rushed in to treat both Gavin and the persons Nines had shot down. But the RK900 didn’t care what happened to their suspects, he was solely focussing on Gavin, telling the paramedics what he had already diagnosed and watched them closely as they stabilized Gavin’s arm and transported him outside. Nines had to stay at the scene to explain what happened and oversee the transport of their suspects, but more than anything he had wanted to stay with Gavin on the ride to the hospital. At least he was linked to their feed because of a sympathetic android on the team, but that was little comfort when he knew his love was hurt.

At least Connor understood as he offered to take over the case as soon as possible. So, six hours later, when everything was documented and the restaurant had been searched to the last corner, Nines could finally leave to meet his human at the hospital. Gavin had already been discharged when he arrived, the bullets themselves removed, his arm bandaged and in a cast. Nines opened the door for him and helped him sit down. Then he drove them back home. The whole way back, he was entirely silent and ignored the careful glances Gavin threw his way. He just parked their car in front of their house and helped Gavin inside. The man kicked off his shoes and struggled with his leather jacket that was only on his uninjured arm and draped over his shoulder on the other side. Nines took it from him to hang it up and then walked over to the kitchen. His human had lost a lot of blood, he needed energy to produce new cells. Also Nines was angry and if he didn’t do anything else to distract him, he would shout at Gavin and that was the last thing he wanted to do at the moment. He had furiously grabbed a paprika to cut it, nearly crushing it in his hand. His first cut already had far too much strength in it as the knife got stuck in the cutting board.

‘Nines?’ The voice was careful, and the android closed his eyes, sighing and hoping the anger would subside. He had to keep calm. Gavin didn’t have a preconstruction software. He had to try and hope for the best. And although he knew to rely on Nines in those situations, the heat of the moment could get to his head. This was normal for humans. He hadn’t gotten hurt on purpose. Still, he could have died and then… And then… ‘You are pissed’, Gavin stated. ‘What’s wrong?’ ‘What’s wrong?!’, Nines asked, turning around. He had forgotten he still had the knife in hand and distributed the few pieces of vegetable all over the counter. He tried once again to breathe deeply, but it didn’t work as good for androids as it did for humans. ‘Gavin, you could have died. You got hurt because of your stupid stubborn wish to… I was scared, Gavin. I’m scared still. I could have lost you. Had I not been there in time…’

Gavin stepped closer to him and loosened his grip on the knife, instead taking his hand in his free one. ‘But it worked out. I’m here. You were there in time.’ ‘And what about next time?’, Nines asked, looking into Gavin’s eyes. ‘You can’t promise me this is how it ends every time you run to do something risky.’ ‘No, I can’t’, Gavin nodded and smiled at him. ‘But what should I do? I can’t change who I am. Can’t change what instinct dictates when it takes over. If I could preconstruct every eventuality like you, love, then I could. But I’m only human.’ He let go of Nines’ hand to reach up and cup his cheek instead and smiled when the android closed his eyes and leaned into the touch. ‘You could quit’, he whispered quietly. ‘You could stop being a Detective. I could work for both of us. I’m mostly bulletproof.’

Gavin actually laughed. ‘Me? Quit being a detective? Nines, that’s out of the question. Why should I do that?’ ‘To stay safe? To keep living? To be with me longer?’ The android had opened his eyes now and looked directly at Gavin. The man swallowed at seeing the raw emotion in them. The android had really been scared to shits when he had been shot, hadn’t he? And he still worried for him and hoped to convince him. Unfortunately, that really was impossible. ‘Nines, I can’t. I can’t just… No, I can’t quit my job!’ ‘I will already lose you!’, the RK900 spoke up louder this time with more vigour. ‘I know the day will come that I will lose you. But I want it to be in many years when you are old, and your body just can’t keep up renewing your tissues. I want it to be in peace after a long life lived together. I don’t want it to be now, not today, not tomorrow, not even in ten years. Can’t you understand that?’

‘I understand’, Gavin sighed and took a step back, trying to look as collected as possible. ‘I understand that this is what you want. Hell, I want the same thing. But I also want to keep doing what I do. What is a long life worth if you haven’t lived a day of it, huh? I like being a cop. Hell, it isn’t a job with good reputation and one half of the population hates you and the other half pretends not to. But phck it, I feel like I do something. Like I move something and do something good. I’m proud of being a Detective. I worked hard to get where I am and I won’t just drop it because you say so, no matter how logical the reasons might be. No matter how right you are, okay? This is my life.’

Nines blinked at him twice, then looked to the floor, all strength gone from his pseudo-muscles. ‘But it’s dangerous. You will get hurt again. I don’t want to see you in pain. I don’t want to lose you.’ Gavin cursed and stepped closer to pull Nines in a half hug, keeping his injured arm and shoulder out of it. ‘But you will be by my side whatever happens. You have my back; you will always be there to warn me.’ ‘I can’t be always there.’ Gavin sighed. ‘Okay, then how about this: You are in pain right now. Do you think I want to see you like this? All worried and close to tears? No. I learned my lesson today. Nines, I will try my best. I promise. That’s all we humans can do. I will try to be more careful and listen to you. And not always run after the next criminal just because maybe I get one more to arrest. I will try to be better. But I won’t quit my job. Okay? A compromise?’ Nines pressed himself closer against Gavin.

‘Okay’, he caved in then. ‘But promise me one thing: If you try your best and it doesn’t work and you get injured on the job yet again, you quit. Without wriggling out of the deal again. That’s the only way I’ll accept your compromise.’ Gavin nodded against the android’s shoulder. ‘Okay. You can record this to have proof: I, Detective Gavin Reed, promise that if I ever get hurt on the job again, I will quit my job the very next day.’ ‘Recording saved’, Nines stated and smiled at his human. ‘Wait, you actually-‘ ‘Yes. And now sit down on the couch, I will clean up the mess I’ve made and cook you something. At least now we get to spend some more time together.

[journalofimprobablethings]

a recipe for home

Author: journalofimprobablethings

Fandom: The Adventure Zone: Balance

Summary: 

Taako tries to cook for the first time since Glamour Springs. When things go awry, Lucretia is there to lend a hand.

Full fic under the cut, but this you can also find me on AO3!

Preview:

Living in the headquarters of the Bureau of Balance makes Taako nervous.

It’s not just the giant brainwashing jellyfish, or the weapons of mass destruction they're hunting, or the fact that it’s a literal moon base floating in the sky--that’s all weird, sure, but he’s Taako. He can deal with weird.

It’s the sense of deja vu he gets just walking around the place, the feeling that he’s been somewhere like this before. It’s the fact that so many things about it feel so damn familiar. The details of the place that feel right in a way he can’t explain. 

The deja vu is constant and sometimes overwhelming. He knows he's never lived anywhere like this--he’s pretty sure he would remember living in the sky--but he still can’t shake the feeling. If he tries to think about it too hard, his head buzzes like the beginning of a hangover and the thin needle of a headache starts to pierce his skull. So he doesn’t look at the feeling straight on. But he worries the edges of it sometimes, as he’s lying in his bunk listening to Magnus and Merle’s snores. 

He’s never had a place like this, never been part of a team like this. He’s always been alone. So why does this place--why do these people, Magnus and Merle and the Director and even, weirdly, Davenport--why do they feel so much like home?

-

The kitchen in the residential wing is the worst--or the best, depending on how you look at it. It’s small, just a tiny galley kitchen for the Bureau members to use if they don’t feel like going to the mess hall, and everything about it feels right. He’s never felt so immediately comfortable in a new kitchen before. He finds himself reaching for a spoon or a pan without thinking, and there it is, exactly where he expected. It’s as if somehow his body already has muscle memory for this place he’s never been. It’s the strangest thing.

Maybe that’s what makes him decide to actually try cooking again.

He hasn’t made anything more complicated than a peanut butter sandwich since Glamour Springs. Every time he thinks about trying, about cutting and assembling ingredients, about transmuting anything, his hands begin to shake, and the echo of forty people choking and gasping for breath sounds through his head. Before he came here, he’d barely set foot in a kitchen in six years.

But for some reason, this damn kitchen calms his fears, at least enough to pull out a pot and prepare himself a packet of instant ramen. Even he, he reasons, can’t mess up noodles and a flavor packet. He only ever cooks for himself, though, never for the others. He plays it off as selfishness-- get your own food, homie, I gave Garfield good elf hair for this shit --and hopes that Merle just thinks he’s an asshole for knocking the spoon out of his hand when he tries to steal a bite. Even he can’t mess up noodles and a flavor packet--but he had thought garlic chicken was a simple enough recipe, too.

--

Now, he’s standing at the stove, testing the waters in his mind. It’s late, Merle and Magnus long asleep, but after hours of lying in his bunk staring at the ceiling and trying not to think about all the questions this place raises in him, he’d given up on sleeping himself and made his way down to the kitchen. If he’s going to try, the middle of the night is a good time: no one around to disturb him, or ask for a taste.

Taako pulls a pot from the cabinet to the right of the stove, just where he thought it would be, and sets it on the burner. His heart is pounding in his ears, but his hands are steady, the ghosts of Glamour Springs so far silent.

Rice, he thinks. Rice is simple, easy. He’ll start with rice.

After a quick survey of the food stores he's found bacon in the fridge, pigeon peas and capers in the pantry, a container of cubes in the freezer labeled “sofrito” -- who in the Bureau cooks enough to make and freeze sofrito? he thinks. But he’s not complaining, because now he knows what he’s making: arroz con gandules, Tía Elsa’s recipe, a recipe engrained in his bones. There are enough spices in the cabinet to approximate sazón--no banana leaves to cover the pot, but Titi Elsa only did that half the time anyway, maybe if we had a banana tree in the front yard, mijo, but I’m not making a special trip just for leaves. Foil’s fine.

He assembles the ingredients on the tiny square of counter next to the stove, pulls out a cutting board and a knife. Takes a deep breath. 

And begins.

He heats the pot, cuts the bacon into thick dice and adds it in. The motions are easy, practiced, the tension in his shoulders relaxing as he falls into the familiar recipe. While the bacon crisps he turns his attention to the army of spice bottles he’s pulled from the rack. He starts mixing them in a small bowl, measuring them by eye in his hand. Garlic powder, onion powder, cumin, coriander. He’s missing annatto seeds, but there’s paprika, easy enough to transmute one to the other--

He stops, staring into the bowl, his hand smudged with red powder.

He did the magic without thinking, a simple shift in flavors, but now he’s staring at the bowl and the smudge on his hand and he’s thinking of elderberry and nightshade and the sound of a town choking to death on his mistakes--

“Taako?”

The voice is distant, he can barely hear it over the ghosts crowding his head.

“Taako, are you alright?”

A hand touches his shoulder, tentatively, and he flinches away from the touch but it pulls him into the present enough for him to open his eyes and see who's talking to him.

The Director is standing in front of him, a blue shawl wrapped around her shoulders and concern in her eyes.

Of all the people to find him like this, it had to be her.

“Peachy keen, jelly bean,” he says, trying for nonchalance, but he can’t stop his voice from shaking. “No worries here, Taako’s good--”

He reaches out to steady himself on the counter, but he misses and catches the edge of the spice bowl, tipping it over the edge. It shatters at their feet, spilling its contents across the floor in an aromatic slash of orange and red and brown.

"Shit," Taako says. "Fucking shit."

He reaches down to clear up the mess, and the world tilts and he almost falls over. Then the Director’s hands are on his shoulders, no longer tentative, catching him before he can fall. She steers him to the table at one end of the narrow kitchen, and guides him, gently but firmly, into a chair.

“Sit.” 

He does, and the world tilts again.

“Breathe,” the Director says, and yes, that’s why the world is tilting, because he’s not breathing, but how does he do that? He leans forward and puts his head between his knees, and manages to suck in a shaky breath.

“That’s it,” she says, “Just breathe.” She’s somewhere nearby but now that he’s seated she’s no longer touching him. He can hear her breathing, though, slow and even, and he tries to focus on that, to match his breath to hers.

It takes a few minutes to even out his breathing, and another few to silence the ghosts whispering in his ears. But finally he lifts his head and looks up at the Director. She’s crouched next to him, a small furrow of concern between her brows, and Taako has the strange urge to reach up and smooth the furrow away. He clenches his hands into fists.

He should probably say thank you, but he's angry with himself and embarrassed that she's seen him this way and so what comes out instead is,

“What are you doing down here?”

It’s a rude question for an employee to ask their boss, but she doesn’t seem to mind. 

“I was working late and came down to make some tea." She studies him. “You were cooking.” She says it so carefully, and not for the first time, Taako wonders just how much the Director knows about their pasts.

He’s afraid she’ll ask what set him off, ask if he wants to talk about it , and he doesn’t think he could handle that. He’s had enough of being vulnerable in front of her for the moment. So he straightens in his chair, pulls his nonchalance back over himself like armor.

“Yeah, you know, sometimes you just need something better than the crap we get in the dining hall.”

He waits for his words to provoke her, for her to stand and say something kind but brusque and leave. But she doesn’t. Instead she just sighs and looks back at the kitchen, surveys the ingredients on the counter, the spilled bowl of spices on the floor. "Gandules?" she asks, and Taako raises his eyebrows in surprise.

"Yeah."

She hesitates, and then says the most remarkable thing.

“Would you like some help?” 

He stares at her. Of all the things he might have expected her to say, that wasn’t on the list. She sounds different, somehow--less distant, less lofty. She sounds younger. 

“Listen, not that I don’t appreciate the offer, but don’t you have important Director-y things to do? Or you know, sleep to catch?”

She smiles thinly. “Sleep is a lost cause tonight, I think,” she says. “And even administrators have to eat sometimes.”

Maybe it's because of that change in her voice, or the fact that she didn’t try to make him talk about the spell he just had. Maybe it's because, against all odds, the Director's presence in this kitchen is strangely comforting. Whatever the reason, he doesn't push away her help the way he normally would. Instead he just shrugs and waves a hand.

"Sure. Knock yourself out."

The Director smiles, drapes her shawl over a chair out of the way, and gets to work. She clears up the spilled spices and shards of bowl, removes the now overly-crisped bacon from the pot, drops in cubes of sofrito to melt and fry in the drippings, and soon the kitchen is full of the mouthwatering smell of cooking onion and pepper and cilantro. It smells like Titi Elsa and home, and the band of anxiety around Taako’s chest begins to loosen.  

Taako watches the Director as she measures out the rice and adds it to the pot to toast, then mixes the spices in a new bowl, measuring them in her hand just as he had. She cooks slowly, like she’s having to remind herself of what comes next, but she goes through the steps of making the arroz exactly as he would.

Deja vu, he thinks.

“Where’d you learn to cook this?” he asks. “You spend some time in New Elfington or something?”

The Director doesn’t answer right away. Her hand pauses in its stirring, as though she’s considering what to say, and when she does answer her eyes are far away.

“My brother taught me,” she says quietly.

The answer surprises him. The Director is one of those people who is so private, so self-contained, that it’s hard to imagine her with a family, a life outside the Bureau. Taako tries to picture the Director younger, more carefree perhaps, standing side by side with her brother in the kitchen. But something about the image makes his head hurt, so he stops.

He wonders what her brother was like, and where he is now.

He thinks it must be nice, to have a sibling, someone to teach you to cook, to be at your side through good times and bad. Someone who would miss and mourn you if you were gone. The thought makes his chest ache with something like longing and something like grief.

So much of this place and these people make him feel this way, this confusing mix of longing and sorrow and comfort. He hates it, because he doesn't understand it, doesn’t know why it’s happening at all. These people mean nothing to him. He just met them. He doesn't care about them, he certainly doesn’t need them. He has never needed anyone.

This is what he tells himself, but as he leans back in his chair and watches the Director cook, he can't help but admit that it's the most at home he's felt in a long time.

---

Lucretia knows that this is a stupid risk.

She's supposed to be keeping her distance. She's supposed to be the Director: professional, dignified, distant . She's not supposed to let them catch her wandering to the kitchen late at night, and she's certainly not supposed to be in said kitchen cooking one of Taako's aunt's recipes for him--one of the ones that he absolutely forbade her to ever write down. (She'd watched him make it until she'd memorized the steps well enough to make it on her own. She's tried it a few times, since the redaction, and it has come out fine, but never as good as his.)

She's breaking all the rules she's set for herself, all the boundaries she's put up to keep her story in place, to keep them safe. She's putting everything at risk.

But when she came into the kitchen and saw Taako staring blankly at that bowl of spices, the smudge of paprika on his palm, helping him wasn’t even a question. She knows what happened at Glamour Springs, and she knows how hard cooking is for him now. She'd hoped the kitchen might help. It's modeled after the one on the Starblaster, laid out just the same, one of the places she couldn't bring herself to let go of.

And now it seems it's just made everything worse.

Maybe it's the guilt that makes her offer to finish the dish, so at least Taako can have a taste of home, even if it's not as good as his or his aunt's. Or maybe, she admits to herself, it's pure selfishness. Standing here in this kitchen with Taako, surrounded by the smells of his cooking, she can almost pretend that nothing has changed.

Until Taako speaks.

"Where'd you learn to cook this?" he asks, and her heart constricts in her chest.

She considers, and when she finally responds, it feels like the closest thing to truth she’s given him in weeks.

She remembers the first time she watched him make this dish, in that tiny galley kitchen on the Starblaster. They had lost Lup early that cycle, a venomous snakebite that acted too fast for Merle to be able to help. Taako retreated into himself the way he always did when Lup was gone, but when she offered to help out preparing the meals, he didn’t say no. He was prickly and short, and half the time he would take the knife out of her hand to finish chopping something himself if she was moving too slow. But he let her stay, and watch, and she soaked up everything he was doing as well as she could.

The last day of the cycle, she and Taako were in the kitchen early, and Taako made his aunt’s arroz con gandules, one of the dishes she had always made for Candlenights. He wouldn’t let Lucretia help at all. She stayed with him anyway, as the sky darkened with the coming Hunger and the light dimmed, and by the time Davenport flew them out of that plane and the threads of light pulled them apart, the pot sat covered and ready on the stove. Lup returned to a tackling hug from Taako, and a bowl of rice that tasted like home.

It was several cycles before he actually taught her how to make it, and several more before she cooked it on her own. Of all the things that he taught her to make, it was always one of her favorites, and she made it at the Bureau because it reminded her of that day, that feeling of reunion.

She only hopes they'll get there again, one day.

Gods, she misses him. She misses all of them. She hadn’t realized how peculiar a grief it was, to miss someone who is sitting right in front of you. To look in the eyes of someone who you’ve known for a century and see nothing but wariness and disinterest.

Every time she thinks she's become accustomed to it, something new appears; they do or say something that leaves her shattered.

Every time, it feels a little harder to put herself back together.

--

“Your rice is burning,” Taako says from the table.

Lucretia comes back to herself and realizes he’s right: the nutty smell of the toasting rice is now tinged with bitterness, and when she stirs there are dark flecks of the grains that have caught at the bottom of the pan.

She curses softly and grabs for the tomato sauce, which hisses and bubbles immediately as she adds it.

It’s been a long time since she let herself wander down those back paths of her memories. She’s avoided it for good reason: it hurts too much, and no good can come of it. For a moment, here, seduced by the familiarity, she allowed herself to drop her guard. 

And worse, she let Taako see.

The empty tomato sauce can clatters as she drops it too quickly onto the counter.

“You all right, there, Madam Director?”

She shouldn’t be here. It’s too dangerous, for him, for her, for the plan. She’s supposed to keep them at arm’s length so that they don’t ask questions, don’t try to follow her down those back paths to places their minds can’t go right now. She’d seen Taako wince when she’d mentioned her brother, because of course that would make him try to think of things that the voidfish has erased, and yet she'd continued on, losing herself in the comfort of the moment and ignoring the danger.

How could she have been so stupid?

She'll finish the dish, because she said she would. What comes next? Toast the rice, tomato sauce and then--what? She stares into the bubbling pot, trying to tamp down the panic clawing at her throat as it always does when she forgets something from the century. She knows this, it's--

"Here."

Taako's voice cuts into her thoughts. She blinks and he is standing next to her, holding the bowl of spices. She hadn't even noticed him get up.

He doesn't ask what's wrong, doesn't even tease her for forgetting what comes next. He just holds out the bowl to her. She takes it, and he doesn't comment on the fact that now it is her hands that are shaking.

"Thank you."

She pours the spices in, and by the time she's done he already has the next ingredient in hand.

They finish the rest of the recipe like that, together, Taako handing her each ingredient in turn. Then she adds just enough water to cover the rice up to her knuckle, and the heat is turned high to bring it to a boil. She and Taako tidy the kitchen without discussion while the water heats, and Lucretia wonders if Taako notices how easily they move around each other in this space, how familiar the dance of dishes and drying and putting away.

The water boils, and they reduce it to a simmer and cover the pot with foil, nesting the lid on top. And then it's done, nothing left to do but wait while the pot bubbles quietly away.

“I should go,” she says quietly. “It’s late.”

"I thought sleep was for the weak, or whatever," Taako says.

"There's always work to do," she replies. She picks up her shawl from the chair and surveys him. "Will you be alright?" 

He flashes a peace sign at her. "I think I know how to tell when rice is done. I'm golden."

"You know what I mean."

Their eyes meet, and for a moment there is a connection there, an understanding. It's not what they had before, of course, not even close. But it's not nothing, either.

"I'm good," he says.

She nods and turns to go, but his voice stops her before she gets to the door.

"Hey, Director?"

She turns. "Yes?"

He starts to say something, then stops, and his shoulders go up in a sort of helpless half-shrug. 

“Thanks.”

She smiles at that.

"You're welcome, Taako."

--

The next morning, Lucretia comes into her office to find a covered bowl sitting on her desk. Next to it is a note, and she recognizes the looping scrawl instantly.

Not bad, Madam D.

She smiles and uncovers the bowl. Even though it must have been hours since he placed it there, the rice is still steaming.

[ao3feed-bakusquad]

I didn't leave it there...

I didn't leave it there... by Seasoned Paprika

Bakugou keeps losing various articles of clothing, he doesn't get mad. At least not at first, until one of his favorite band T-shirts went missing. Whoever took it was asking for it. What he didn't know is that he'd been leaving them in Todoroki's room.

(Prompt because I didn't feel comfortable putting it in the tags: Lost item.)

Words: 1046, Chapters: 1/1, Language: English

Fandoms: 僕のヒーローアカデミア | Boku no Hero Academia | My Hero Academia

Rating: Teen And Up Audiences

Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply

Categories: M/M

Characters: Bakugou Katsuki, Todoroki Shouto, Kirishima Eijirou, Kaminari Denki, Sero Hanta, Ashido Mina

Relationships: Bakugou Katsuki/Todoroki Shouto

Additional Tags: Fluff, Attempt at Humor, I'm so not funny lmaoo, Bakugou Katsuki is Bad at Feelings, Bakugou Katsuki Swears A Lot, Bakusquad, Quirk Shenanigans, Pining Bakugou Katsuki, Pining Todoroki Shouto, Pre-Relationship

Read Here: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28763796

[coffeestainsandcashmere]

Hey. I hope you're feeling better. Ehm can you write a Theo Draco and Hermione singing. I mean idk if there's something like magical karaoke but the three of them singing uwu

Much better, thank you! Sorry I’ve sat on this for so long. Life got crazy busy. It’s not karaoke, but it does involve them singing together... I hope you enjoy it!

Set just after finishing Hogwarts, perhaps as Hermione starts her first job at the Ministry, but she’s dating Theo and Draco. It feels as though it would fit with my All That’s Best of Dark and Bright universe as a ‘later’ fic, but it stands alone well enough I think! 

___

“Oh, my poor heart, where has it gone? 

It's left me for a spell…”

.

Hermione stood by the stove and stirred the garlic, orzo, paprika, sweetcorn and tomato into the already cooking chorizo and onion in the pan, humming softly to herself and swaying in time with the song in her head.  

The boys weren’t due for another fifteen minutes at least, and she wanted it all perfect for their first time over at her flat. Admittedly it wasn’t the fine grandeur they were used to with their respective mansions and upbringings, but she hoped they’d feel comfortable there all the same.  

She’d adjusted her wards on the floo to let them come and go, but so far they had yet to take her up on her open door policy. For some reason they had both proved skittish about pushing her or invading her privacy.  

  “But I don't mind, 'cause with you I find 

I'm always feeling well...

.

  — two, three, four! 

You charmed the heart right out of me” 

  She shuffled the contents of the pan around as she started the second verse, hair swinging wildly in its ponytail as she bobbed about, and nearly leapt out of her skin when hands closed on her waist and Theo crooned the next lines softly over her shoulder. 

.

“Don't need no broom, I'm flying free 

I think by now it's plain to see 

I'm nothing without you… ” 

.

He finished with a chuckle and planted a kiss on her cheek. “Hello, love,” he said. “We’re a bit early.” 

“So I see,” she said archly, looking over her shoulder to find Draco standing behind him by the fireplace. They were both wearing muggle clothing, which was odd but very welcome. Draco had light blue and still extremely expensive looking jeans on and a smart white shirt that made him look like a model, and Theo sported a darker pair of jeans and a slate grey, round-necked jumper.  

“Celestina Warbeck?” Draco drawled. “Really?” 

She quirked her lips at him and brandished the wooden spoon as if about to start a duel with him. “Judge not, Malfoy. Or no supper for you.” 

With an answering twitch of his mouth, he bowed his head theatrically low.  

Hermione turned back to the stove but went still when she heard his rough, musical baritone as he approahced from behind her. 

.

  “Your every wish is my command 

My fragile heart is in your hand 

And now, at last, I understand 

The magic about you…”

.

She swallowed and as he set his hands on her hips and nipped playfully at her ear, she breathed, “I didn’t know you could sing, Draco…” And he really could. His voice was beautiful.  

In answer, he took up the next part of the refrain, with Theo’s slightly less secure warble for support, and he punctuated the lines of the song with a succession of kisses further and further down her neck until she was shivering and leaning back into him.

  “I'm losing all control 

My chest is one big hole 

Inside you'll see my soul 

Happy as can be 

'Cause, babe, you charmed the heart right out of me!” 

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writing masterlist | Ao3