#plain sugar donut

[tokutony]

Took this photo to show kinsey I was watching kamen rider wizard the right way with the perfect snack and the frame ended up being perfect too 🤣

[vaguedoctor]

“You and I are nothing alike.”

Kamen Rider: Wizard, Episode 35 - The Other Side of Sora

[kulemii]

i need to know..

[falseroar]

I wouldn’t say I’m a picky eater, but I will admit to being the kind of person who finds one thing they like at a place and sticking to it to the point I only ever seem to try anything new is when my order gets messed up.

On an unrelated note, trying iced coffee for the first time this morning.

[tonoiho]

i have to stop eating ramen noodles it makes everything after taste like weed

[telomirage]

LMAO chine's go to gas station snack is the literal gas pump. of course

[patriciahandschiegel]

Maple and Oreo Donuts

Maple and Oreo Donuts. Milk, Vanilla Extract, Milk, Powdered Sugar, Unsalted Butter, Granulated Sugar, Baking Soda, Baking Powder, All-Purpose Flour, Maple Syrup, Plain Yoghurt, Oreos, Salt. These Maple and Oreo Donuts are a delicious sweet treat for any occasion. The combination of maple and Oreo cookies results in a deliciously unique flavor that everyone will enjoy.

[blowwboston]

Recipe for Donut Holes with Chocolate Sauce

Made with All-Purpose Flour, Unsalted Butter, Plain Yoghurt, Semisweet Chocolate Chips, Salt, Heavy Cream, Vanilla Extract, Granulated Sugar, Baking Powder, Milk, Baking Soda. These tasty donut holes have a crispy outside and a fluffy inside. They're ideal for a sweet breakfast or dessert. The chocolate sauce adds another layer of decadence.

[luveline]

hello might i ask for sassy badass reckless reader who is the #1 leading cause of aaron's gray hairs pls 🤞🏻 he is SO exasperated with her like he is TIRED™ but also tweaking bcs he's horrendously down bad for her he's gna throw up

Good morning. I hope you slept well, honey. Can you come to work early, say 6.10AM? I’d like to see you and talk about something in person. 

You squint at the text that’s just come through. Another follows as you’re finishing, lighting the dark of your room.

I love you. Sorry, I know you don’t like when I forget to tell you in the mornings. 

Your own response is sent without propriety. I love you too handsome. 6.10 is not gonna work.

Can you make an effort for me? he asks. 

You do your very best. 

“It’s almost seven,” Hotch says when you finally get there that morning, his frown audible and plain to see. 

You hold up the bag of sugar donuts you’d purchased from the truck on the square just outside of Quantico’s endless parking lots. “Necessary delay.” 

“Unnecessary. I asked you nicely to come early and you’re barely on time,” he grumbles. 

How adorable. You put the bag of donuts on the desk and ignore the paperwork laid out waiting for you in favour of his side of the desk. He smells like cedar, his suit sleeve starched under your hand. You lean back against the lip of his desk and pretend you hadn’t been thinking about climbing into his lap —he’s formidable and lovely and that’s the best combination for lounging about atop someone, especially when that someone is very good at pressing you backwards, and better at kissing your neck. 

He knows what you’re thinking. “You’ve woken up in a mood,” he murmurs. 

“A good one,” you promise. 

You take his coffee and steal a sip. Hotch, resigned, lays a hand on your thigh. “I have important things to talk about, you know? I thought I made that clear this morning.” 

“You made a couple of things clear.” 

“Don’t say it like that.” 

“Like what?” 

“Like I…” He tilts his head to the side. “Like I’ve been sending you dirty texts or photos.” 

“Is that an option? I don’t think I’ve subscribed to those emails.” 

“You make me out to be this salacious lark–”

“Aaron, I don’t do anything of the sort.” You can hardly hold back a laugh. “I’m sorry I implied you were sexting me, okay? I wish you had been.” He sighs a long-suffering sigh as you carry on. “But you were very formal. I’ll be sure to tell HR the same thing.” 

His hand slips between your thighs. Nowhere it shouldn’t be, just trapped between soft flesh. “Don’t tell HR anything.” 

His coffee is lukewarm and unsweetened on your tongue. Would it kill your uptight love to add just a dash of cream and sugar? Wrinkling your nose, you set aside the mug and press your mildly heated hand to his cheek. Just quickly, brushing a thumb up to the skin below his eye before you let it fall. “Tell me what you wanted me to come in early for. And, for the record, I’m sorry for not trying to get here before, just I didn’t sleep well, and my neck hurt too much to rush.” 

He looks like he wants to ignore your apology. He doesn’t ask you for much, and showing up when he’d wanted you to would’ve been the kinder thing to do —he can be annoyed as both boss or boyfriend. 

But he doesn’t have it in him. 

“Why didn’t you sleep?” he asks softly. 

“Thinking too much about my nice boyfriend.” 

“Really?” 

You slouch a little. Cover his hand where it rests between your legs. “I don’t know. It was really hot, and my mattress is getting old, probably.” 

He ushers you down for a sympathetic kiss. He’s always so sorry to hear about your minor ailments, he must like you too much. 

You attempt to crawl into his lap, curling an arm behind his head. He, disgruntled and yet far from reluctant, lets you take a seat. 

[raven-at-the-writing-desk]

quaso tier list

I noticed that croissants are a trendy food now…? There’s many different variations of it on social media and many eateries doing their own creative spin on it. I thought it would be funny to make a croissant tier list (from Rollo's perspective) on what does or does not qualify as a "real" croissant.

This is dedicated to you, quaso king 🥐

DISCLAIMER: This is just for fun and in no way reflects my own opinions!! I don't mean to be rude or to talk down to the establishments who make and/or serve any of the croissants pictured here. I think they should make whatever they want to (get your coin) and salute them for their innovation! o_o)7

And now, without further ado...

The reasoning (again, with Rollo's perspective in mind):

"as god intended" = Rollo has very conservative and plain tastes, so I firmly believe he would place a normal ass croissant in the top tier and nothing else.

"socially acceptable but still sinful" = In this tier are common variations of the regular croissant but have some addition(s) that Rollo may deem "too much". This may include sweet (chocolate, cream, fruit, nuts, powdered sugar) or savory (cheese, vegetables, meat) fillings/toppings.

"abomination" = This tier includes croissants that still retain the "croissant" (crescent) shape but have 1-2 elements that are... off... somehow. For example, miniature croissants (that you are encouraged to dip into your drink), whole spears of asparagus stuffed inside the pastry, carving out the middle of a croissant and filling the cavity with other things, and... frozen croissants *shivers* Also here is the "crookie" or combining cookie dough with a croissant.

"blasphemy" = This is when the croissants start fucking with the shape or the form (which Rollo does NOT approve of). Both examples in this tier are just slightly twisty variants, which (while still offensive) is not as offensive compared to what's to come. Also here is a giant croissant, which got downgraded from "abomination" tier despite being the correct croissant shape due to the sheer excess of size.

"contrition" = Here we have flat, crispy as heck croissants and these fat... round... wheel-like stuffed croissants with a LOT of filling. Rollo would call the former basically a potato chip (it only ranks this high because it technically keeps the crescent shape) and the latter too indulgent and being slightly off from the original crescent.

"damnation" = These are not even croissants anymore, it's literally a muffin, a waffle, a donut, and burger buns made with croissant batter.

"eternal damnation (to hellfire with you)" = Rollo voice) WE HAVE GONE TOO FAR, IT IS TIME TO STOP. Yes, you are looking at croissant BOXES, croissant ONIGIRI (with strips of nori and toppings/fillings characteristic of actual rice balls), and some... croissants of a churro-like shape...) The last item here is a rice paper croissant... which, while resembling the shape typical of a croissant, is completely different in composition and is therefore messing with tradition. It is deemed worthy of eternal damnation.

[cosmerelists]

Rock Reviews Food From Across the Cosmere

As requested by anon. :)

Somehow, Rock has gotten access to all of the Cosmere food I could find on Coppermind! Let's see what he thinks...

1. Pop'ems (fried donuts, basically, from Komashi)

Rock: Fried dough, fried, covered in this sticky sugar? Rock: Is what Airsick lowlanders would call women's food, yes? Rock: Too sweet and too soft, I say! Could use some spice and some crunch. Rock: Put some spicy cremling claws on this, and it would be a banger!

2. Design's Noodles (from Komashi)

Rock (to Design): I see that you are a fellow cook, worthy of admiration. Rock: The seasoning is masterful, and though it's a bit thin, I cannot deny taste! Perhaps we should cook together sometime? Design: Thanks! I measure all of my spices by counting out individual grains! Rock: ... Rock: Never mind I think we are natural enemies. 

3. Kulunut bread, steamed (Lumar)

Rock: For a bread made when all other ingredients are rotten, this is not bad! Rock: Is not good, but also is not bad. Tress: Here is what we were all eating before that. Rock: ... Rock: I would like to revise previous statement--you are an airsick genius. Tress Thanks I guess!

4. Tektees spiced rice (Nalthis)

Rock: Yes! Classic, warm, spicy--no complaints! Rock: I would not be ashamed to serve this to my friends!

5. Tinkfans (small sweet pastry, eat a piece of bread in between) (Nalthis)

Rock: Eh, is too sweet again. Rock: And what's the point of the plain bread in between? There's nothing I want to clean my palate for!

6. Baywrap (bay leaves stuffed with barley & veggies) (Scadrial)

Rock: Ah, it is like chouta! Rock: Only there is no meat. Rock: Or much in the way of spice. Rock: Or sauce. Rock: ... Rock: Is like a sad, unhappy chouta!

7. Logshine (beer that Wax likes) (Scadrial)

Rock: (shrugs) Weak, but what else can you expect from airsick lowlanders?

8. RaiDomo Mai ("meat with fiery skin" meat & veggies, peppers, in red sauce) (Sel)

Rock: Now THIS is a food! Rock: You can tell is good by the scary color!

9. Weed Soup (healthy & bad) (Sel)

Rock: So...this one is a punishment, right? Sarene: I think it's to lose weight. Rock: Yes--is what I said.

10. Garha (hot caffeinated drink) (Sel)

Rock: Ah, I think if I served this to my friends, they would fly much faster and higher! Rock: Looping all over the sky, playing with the sky eels... Rock: We gotta import this one!

[cupofsapphics]

The Coffee Shop

[ melissa schemmenti x reader ]

warning(s): none

summary: a new coffee shop opened near abbott and something, or rather someone, keeps a redhead coming back

a/n: feeding you guys one fic a year is so generous, right? right?? also forgive me you guys, it's been a while since i wrote... so mel might be a bit ooc

word count: 1.7k

Mondays were always a pain for the staff at Abbott. Work to catch up on, plan lessons, and more. Just like every other morning, Janine walked into the room with a bright smile. “Guys, did you hear about the new coffee shop that opened down the road?” 

Barbara gave her a glance and shook her head. “I’m satisfied with my regular coffee.”

Ava suddenly bursts through the door. “Girl, no wonder you always be lookin’ so miserable. That new place serves one hell of a coffee, y'all should try.” She grins as she puts countless spoons of sugar into her coffee.

Barbara and Melissa shared a skeptical look before getting up to go set up their classrooms for the incoming kids. Undeterred, Janine turned to Jacob “I’m thinking of checking it out tomorrow, do you wanna come?” 

“I’d be happy to, I’ve been planning to go over there anyway.” Jacob gushes. 

The next morning, the two pulled the door open to the shop and were taken aback by the sight before them. Compared to the frigid air outside, the cafe felt welcoming. The walls were plain white, but many paintings adorned them. Strings of warm lights hung from the ceiling, inviting passersby to sit and relax. You just opened the cafe a mere 15 minutes ago and the ring of your doorbell caught your attention as you were cleaning the counter.

“Hi! Welcome to my cafe, what can I get you?” You beamed as you leaned on the counter with both of your arms. Business has been slow ever since you started the shop, so it was nice to see people come in.

“Just a cappuccino, please,” the woman says excitedly and moves to sit down at one of the tables. You nodded and turned to her friend to find him staring at cookies, donuts, croissants, and muffins through the glass. You clear your throat and his attention redirects back to you as he orders quickly to join his friend at the table. You quickly get to work and start preparing.

You approach them, with the two drinks and snack in hand. Putting them on the table, you ask, “Are you guys from the school across from here? I don’t get a lot of customers, so it would make sense if you guys work nearby.” They take a sip as they listen to your inquiries and their eyes widen as they drink more. 

“Yeah, we’re from Abbott, the school just across from here. I’m sorry, but I just got to say, this coffee is absolutely amazing,” Janine rapidly finishes as she drinks more. You hear a muffle from her companion, which you could make out was along the lines of, “I know right.” You let out a light chuckle. The woman sticks her hand out and says, “By the way, my name’s Janine, and my friend over there is Jacob.” At the mention of his name, Jacob pauses from eating to give you a small wave. 

“Nice to meet you guys, I’m Y/N.”

Janine and Jacob talked to you for a few more minutes before they had to go back to prepare for their classes. They promised to come here as often as they could for their coffee. Over the course of a few weeks, you became good friends with both of them and often joined them for meetups outside of work.

--

You got a call from Janine about a week ago about having some drinks and snacks out for the staff at Abbott to enjoy. She asked if you could provide them and bring them over. “I’m sorry if this is kind of last minute,” she says nervously. “It’s okay, Janine. I’ll bring them over next Monday,” you replied reassuringly.

Monday came quickly and before you knew it, you found yourself in front of Abbott Elementary with armfuls of coffee and food. Scrambling to the counter, you ask the person in the front for a pass (Janine said you needed one) and made your way towards the staff room. There were already a good amount of teachers chatting amongst themselves. Janine made her way up to you as she took the boxes off your hands and set them on one of the tables. “Everyone, this is Y/N. She owns the coffee shop across from the school and was kind enough to bring us some coffee and food to get through the morning!” Janine rambles eagerly. 

Everyone’s eyes were on you as you gave a small wave and started to hand out some coffee. You let your eyes drift to a redhead with glasses focused on grading some papers. Noticing no coffee next to her, you made your way toward the table and gently put down a cup next to her. The sound made Melissa look up, preparing to give a cold response. However, she was surprised to find a sweet and unfamiliar face. 

Not expecting her eyes to look so mesmerizing, you practically stutter out, “Hi, I noticed you didn’t have any coffee cup next to you, so I just wanted to give you one.” Melissa blinked for few times, not used to kind gestures from strangers, let alone pretty ones. She didn’t reply until Barbara elbowed her side and she jolted back into reality. “Thanks for the coffee, sweetheart,” she murmured. You could feel your face turning beet red at the nickname as you nod slowly and make your way back to the table where Janine sat. 

Melissa smirked at your reaction, watching you turn and walk toward Janine’s table. In the corner of her eye, she saw her friend shaking her head. “Melissa Schemmenti, you sure are something,” Barbara states as she returned to her morning crossword. The redhead shrugged. She already had her coffee for the morning, but she wouldn’t mind another one if it came from you. 

Taking a sip of her new coffee, Melissa paused, licked her lips, and turned to Barbara. “Oh my god, this coffee is unbelievable.” Her friend raised an eyebrow as she took another sip. Melissa thought that it was about time she paid a visit to the coffee shop across the street. 

--

It was a busy morning for you. Your alarm didn’t go off and when you got to the cafe, you found the sink in the back having some issues. You were scrambling to fix the pipes somehow when you hear the doorbell ring. Panicking, you quickly made sure there would be no leaks and stood up, moving to wash your hands. “Hi, welcome to the cafe! Give me one second and I’ll be right with you,” you said promptly. You came out to the front but slowed down when you recognized who it was waiting to order. There she was in all her glory with her leather jacket and fiery hair. Realizing you’re still at work, you snap out of it. “What can I get you?” You lean on the counter waiting for her order.

Approaching the table, you handed the captivating woman her coffee and felt the redhead’s hand brush against yours. Your face was painted with a light blush, causing the woman to grin. “What’s your name, hon?” God, this woman was going to kill you. 

“The name’s Y/N. Nice to finally know the name of the gorgeous lady I saw the other day,” you replied. You weren’t sure where this confidence came from, but those questions disappeared when you witnessed her eyes widen at the unexpected answer. The moment was quick though, for she recovered and quipped back, “Well, nice to meet you Y/N. The name’s Melissa. What’s a pretty girl like you doing working in a coffee shop?”

From then on, Melissa came every morning before her classes started. It didn’t matter the circumstances: rain, hail, shine, snow, she would still be there every single morning chatting away with you. She said that it was because the coffee there was just unmatched by any she’s had anywhere else. You’d like to believe that if it weren’t for the fact that you two exchanged flirtatious remarks every single day. 

--

Another dreaded Monday came for everyone and it became a regular sight to see Melissa walking into the staff room with a coffee from the shop across the street. The redhead sat down in her usual place next to Barbara who glanced at the coffee but said nothing. Everyone was wondering the same thing, but no one wanted to say it. Janine, brave as ever, decided to break the silence. “So… you must really like the coffee from the shop that Y/N runs right?” Melissa looks at Janine and then proceeds to look at the coffee cup. A soft smile appears on her face as her thoughts drift to you and all the moments the two of you shared over the past month or two. “Hello, earth to Melissa!” Janine says with a confused expression. 

Melissa looks back up at Janine. “Yea, she makes the best coffee I’ve had in a while,” she says hastily as she goes back to her grading. Jacob turns away from Melissa to mutter to Janine and Gregory. “The coffee’s not the only thing that Melissa keeps going back for..” Gregory snorted as Janine tried her best not to laugh. 

Melissa heard what Jacob said and she thought about it for the entire day. Sure, the coffee was amazing, but it definitely wasn’t the real motivation for coming to the cafe every single day. Melissa finally came to the realization that Jacob was right. The next morning, the redhead practically barged through the door and walked towards you. The sudden impact of the door startled you as you see Melissa coming towards you with an unreadable expression. You couldn’t help but feel nervous as she rounds the counter and kisses you. To say you were caught off guard would be an understatement, but not wanting to give the wrong impression, you kissed her back. After what seemed like forever, both of you pulled away and a comfortable silence filled the room. 

“Not that I’m complaining, but what was that for?” Melissa let out a light chuckle before deciding to respond. “What do you say to dinner at my place tonight, hon?” The smile you offer her gives Melissa the answer she’s looking for.

[ohworm-writes]

I NEED TO HEAR ABOUT STATION 141. PLEASE. for a friend definitely not for me thinking about how fucking FINEEE good they would be.

「✰」 ━━ STATION 141

RATING PG-13 - Parents strongly cautioned [ Content warnings : light cursing, depictions of a vehicle accident, fires, mentions of injuries, references to and depictions of smoking, peer pressure (?), depiction of a house fire, mentions of and references to 9/11, implications to alcoholism, brief mentions of guilt and insecurity ]

SYNOPSIS Character explorations for the members of Task Force 141 in the case that they opted towards working for the fire department instead of the military, expanding on what the roles they play are, their backgrounds before pursuing the profession, and a few headcanons, here and there.

WORD COUNT 4.9k

Station!141

Firefighters are known for being dorks and pranksters outside of their profession when they’re trying to relax and ease the tension that comes with the job, and Station 141 is no different. Gaz and Soap are the resident pranksters, of course, and perhaps that comes with being the youngest out of anyone employed at the station. But, unfortunately, that leaves Price and Ghost to deal with their tormentation, both the acts and the aftermath of it.

Soap and Gaz do simpler, more tame pranks. Something like dumping water over someone’s head, pieing someone in the face when their backs are turned, or if they’re dozing off, switching the salt and the sugar—that kind of stuff. Simple, annoying pranks—those are elementary. Ghost and Price are evil when it comes to pranking, or, more accurately, getting people at people for pranking them. They’ve replaced the water in the ice cube trays with hotdog water, put cling wrap over the toilet bowl, replaced shampoo with hair dye, and done other things that you wouldn’t even dream of. The two of them get really creative with it. 

Gaz very quickly stopped pranking the two after Ghost snuck into his house and hid those really loud alarm clocks with the bells everywhere, setting forty of them up to go off in the middle of the night. When they went off, he screamed so loudly that he swore he had a heart attack because of it. Soap’s a masochist, though, and he keeps on pranking the both of them without any sign of stopping. He’s never able to one-up Ghost or Price, though, that’s for certain. It’s a challenge for him, though, and it’s fun (sometimes, not often, though). 

Granted, most firefighters already do this, but making fun of, taunting, and mocking cops is a given, and the 141 boys are no different. Soap hooked a donut onto a fishing line once, positioning himself on top of the firetruck, staying hidden, and dangling it above a cop when they were visiting the station one time. They locked onto it quickly. Another time, he did the same sort of thing but left a donut on the floor attached to a fishing line, pulling it closer towards him any time a cop tried to come close to it. Also, plain and simple: making pig sounds. 

They do have a fire dog of their own at the station, actually! And, of course, ever the classic choice, it’s a Dalmatian. In terms of technicality, it’s the Chief’s dog, given that he bought the thing... but, ever the generous man, he allowed the station to adopt the dog as their own. They all fought over the name for days, with some individuals actually getting heated about the matter. Price eventually got sick of it, went down to a pet store, and printed out a tag for the pup, a circular tag that reads the name ‘Ozzie’ with the station’s address printed on the back. Nobody argues against it. 

Soap isn’t the biggest fan of dogs as is, but Ozzie loves him, trailing after him and following his lead without hesitation, the others often joking about how the animal played his shadow better than his own did. Ozzie’s the only dog he likes, but he won’t admit it aloud, giving the dog a playful rub on the head here and there when someone’s around and roughhousing and playing freely with him when they’re alone. Gaz and Price are unabashed in their affection for the canine (Price has bought everything for this dog, he swears it), while Ghost is more or less neutral about his presence, but he won’t deny him a good rub behind the ears if he barks enough.

Let’s spend a moment talking about and appreciating the uniforms that firefighters wear, yeah? Station wear is typically worn around all the time, even under their PPE uniforms when out on calls. It consists of a short or long-sleeved button-up shirt, sometimes as simple as a t-shirt, which is navy blue in color and often sports the insignia of the department or the station or something of the like or any relevant patches. They’re matched with navy blue or black pants, giving the whole outfit a formal yet equally comfortable look.

As for PPE uniforms, the bunker pants are held up by a set of suspenders and matching jacket, often being either black or tan in color with long yellow or red reflective strips stretched out along the fabric at the chest, waist, shoulders, wrists, shins, back, and legs, with knee pads visible from the front of the uniform. The color can depend on either the rank the firefighter holds or, simply, what’s in stock.

But, just to state it, each and every one of the boys within the station looks good in their uniforms. They fit snugly in just the right places and loosely in others, especially the station wear—not to say the PPE doesn’t do the same, but rather, it looks good in the sense that we can all appreciate a man in uniform, now can’t we? PPE uniforms are designed to not fit snugly, providing more mobility that way, and they’re rather bulky. This, however, doesn’t at all negate the fact that the men within Station 141 look fuckin’ good in them.

As a matter of fact, the boys often get a lot of people who come up and flirt with them shamelessly. Sometimes, it can be a bit of a nuisance, with civilians watching from the sidelines as they respond to a call, making flirtatious and lustful remarks—it's distracting, in more negative ways than positive, in complete honesty. Though, when they’re off duty, maybe dressed in a tee with the station’s logo, they can be entertained. 

Gaz was shell-shocked the first time he was flirted with by someone for nothing more than his profession (and, honestly, it pissed him off a little, but he wouldn’t say that aloud), and he was turned into a confused, awkward mess, trying to get himself out of the interaction. Soap will entertain them as much as his attention can handle, but after that? He’s giving polite nods and hums here and there, but he isn’t listening all that much. Ghost just tells people he’s married, even though he isn't—he isn’t all that fond of getting flirted with on the basis of solely his job, much like Gaz. Price, honestly? He could care less. Have at him. 

One of the scariest moments that the station went through where one of the boys lives’ were at stake was in the case of a methanol fire that had broken out on the highway as a result of a crash. A car had run head-on into a truck that carried a methanol chemical tank, which had been damaged and spilled. Nothing bad happened until the car involved in the accident caught fire, lighting the methanol and causing an invisible flame to spread. While all of the boys were on scene, Gaz was busy helping one of the civilians out of their car from the wreck when the fire started. 

Obviously, immediately, he jumped away from the civilians, not wanting to catch them on fire too—they didn’t, thankfully—but Gaz was left screaming and yelling for help as the fire began to burn through his PPE equipment. Ghost put out the flame with a CO2 ABC extinguisher, realizing what the cause was immediately, but Gaz still suffered through some heavy burns along his back, legs, and arms and rushed to the hospital sooner after being put out. 

The first time Soap tried to go down the fire pole during the fire academy, he sprained his ankle, not knowing how to descend it properly and just shooting straight down onto his foot. He was fine, thankfully, but nobody ever let him live it down. Ghost tells him to be careful with this big, smug grin spread out across his face anytime Soap rushes through the fire house to go towards the fire pole to descend the floors (he flips him off each and every time, rightfully so). 

Price tries to call out sick every time he thinks it’s going to rain. For anyone who knows anything about first responders, it’s that they hate it when it rains. It’s a guarantee for more accidents, more calls, and, put simply, more work. Price has been working long enough in the field to know this, so he just so happens to catch the cold or the flu any time he sees it’s going to downpour—unless, of course, someone calls in sick before him and he can’t get out of work, or if he fails to check the weather. He’s pissed off for the rest of the day, and he makes it everyone’s problem. 

Soap is the one who's driving the truck, obviously, with Price sitting in the passenger’s seat. Behind Soap sits Ghost, and Gaz sits across from him. It’s lively whenever they go on calls together; most of the conversation in the truck is devoted to work, but there are more than a few occasions when they’ll just talk comfortably together. Especially on the rides back to the station from calls, usually when it’s getting late at night. That’s when the most heartfelt conversations happen. 

Overall? A dorky yet hardworking group of firefighters dedicated to their professions, sharing a bond like no other. 

Firefighter!Price

He, of course, plays the role of ‘Captain’ at the station, primarily due to the fact that this role does actually exist as a role within the profession; while I would have made him the ‘Chief’, the ‘Captain’ plays a way more present role as the commander of a company and overseeing the daily operations of a station. Chiefs, typically, only supervise and view the situation as is, not often actually being a part of the process of resolving an incident.

Firefighter!Price, who, contrary to popular belief, does not, in fact, smoke. It’s not as if he’s prohibited from smoking, per se, especially given that around 13.6 percent of firefighters smoke, but it’s more of a moral thing for him—his job is to fight fires, and cigarettes and other smoking materials make up a huge percentage of top fire causes, so it seems, to him, like a stupid decision to make to smoke. Also, it would affect his ability to do his job, and it just looks bad to have someone that people are supposed to look up to doing something like that, so he doesn’t.

Firefighter!Price, who, okay, yes, has smoked a cigarette and cigar at one point in his life, maybe once or twice, or a few more times than that, but never consistently. It’s not a habit that he has or ever indulges in, only having ever taken part in it thanks to a friend or two offering him a cigarette or cigar, outstretched hands taunting him, and teasing “c'mon, one puff ain’t gonna kill ya’, mate”, to which he relents. He hates the taste of cigarettes, and he refuses to go anywhere near one again, but he can entertain a cigar around the right company. 

Initially, he had intended on joining the military straight out of secondary school; however, a few months before he intended on joining, he bore witness to a violent house fire within his neighborhood. The house had been completely engulfed in flames, with smoke pluming into the sky and the flames spreading to a few nearby houses. He watched on with awe as the fire department showed up with swiftness and took care of the situation with ease, resulting in no casualties whatsoever. 

Although, yes, the job was far from being a proper equivalent to the military, it still provided a similar sense of fulfillment, and he would still be protecting innocents. (On a morbid note, his life would still be consistently on the line and threatened.) Thus, he joined the profession when he was around nineteen, working as a volunteer firefighter for a few years before eventually taking on the job full-time. He’s worked with numerous different stations and companies for the past ten years, give or take a few, and he’s made a number of different connections throughout different departments. 

Firefighter!Price, who toys with his suspenders when he’s clad in uniform like it’s a second job. It’s an unconscious habit he’s developed with the elastic straps, and there’s a certain progression it follows—it's like clockwork. It’ll start off with him simply hooking his thumbs into the belt loops of the trousers of his bunker gear, holding himself there comfortably as he stands and walks around the station—casual, if anything. But then, it slowly starts to progress further, with his hands wandering, his fingers gently trailing up and down the straps, and his calloused fingers brushing over the material in a repetitive up-and-down motion.

Firefighter!Price, who holds onto his suspenders near his chest in a loose grip, his thumbs grazing back and forth over them, pulling them not even an inch away from his chest, just holding them there. That is, of course, before he starts to snap the elastic against his chest, gently or not, it doesn’t matter; the sound muffled by the fabric of his shirt as he repeats the action over and over and over again—it's something to do with his hands; he’s restless, and who can blame him?

Firefighter!Price, whose natural scent is simply smoke, the acrid redolence of sulfur clinging to his skin like a parasite, a second skin that he’s come to call his own. No matter how many times he washes his clothes until they start to fade into a lighter shade, no matter how many times he scrubs his skin until it blotches into harsh, raw, red patches, that scent still clings to him. It’s, in a sense, becoming a part of him, molding in with his natural musk effortlessly until it becomes it, a scent identifiable to him, whether that’s for better or for worse, he wouldn’t know.

Firefighter!Ghost

Again, of course, Ghost plays the role of ‘Lieutenant’ at the station, which is a role that falls directly under ‘Captain’, leaving him tasked with typical daily operations, readying their crew for emergency situations, and supervising the Engine or Rescue Company and the personnel within it, reporting directly to the Fire Captain or Chief, acting as a temporary captain, should they be absent from a scene.

Firefighter!Ghost, who kids absolutely adore. He can come off scary and intimidating, sure, given the fact that he’s, put simply, a huge guy, not to mention the balaclava he often sports that conceals his identity. But kids still think he’s the coolest guy in the whole world. Being a firefighter already has its own charms; several kids are asking him about his profession and how their dream job is to become a firefighter when they grow up, like him. He’s a bit awkward, unsure of how to respond to all of the compliments and praise, but takes it in stride.

Firefighter!Ghost, who has to deal with the fact that nearly every kid he comes across adores him, soon decides to just embrace it, honking the horn on the engine any time he passes by kids who wave at him or whose eyes light up when they see the truck, relishing in the way they let out loud, excited yells. Whenever kids come by the station, either for field trips or to simply ask if they can have a tour, he takes up the task of touring them around, lifting each and every one into the truck, watching as they giggle, laugh, and smile so brightly at him. 

A close friend of his who became a firefighter from secondary school was the one who eventually got him into the field, the friend in question having joined a little more than half a year after the two of them had graduated, though he didn’t immediately and solely join due to his friend’s encouragement. He still worked as an apprentice butcher for nearly two years after graduating at a local grocery store; that job kept up most of his focus, though instead of joining the military after September 11th, he chose to join the fire department.

(Because the fire department played such a large role in this event, I thought it would match more appropriately than him joining the military, like his background states in his biography.)

His friend was the one to tell him everything he needed to have before joining: his certifications, his license, his CPAT, et cetera. He completed each task without any hesitation or reluctance, and he was even willing to get a degree in Fire Science if it meant he would get into the profession. He passed the academy with ease and, soon after, was offered a volunteer position working at the same station his friend was positioned at, transferring, unfortunately, without him to Station 141 a year and a half later, though the two still keep in touch regularly. 

Firefighter!Ghost, who comes back to the station after a long day of rough calls, be it mentally or physically grueling, likely both, hops off the truck with deep, guttural breaths, beginning to strip himself of his PPE as he makes his way towards the locker rooms, hanging and folding everything up, his SCBA first, then his helmet, then his bunker gear, before he finally tears off his balaclava—his hair’s completely damp with sweat, beads dripping down his face, splayed across his forehead messily, letting out an exhausted sigh, running a hand through his hair, slicking the blond strands back across his skull.

Firefighter!Ghost, who takes a seat on one of the benches in the locker room, leans over with his elbows on his knees, his hands falling limp in the space between them, his back slumped over, and his shoulders dropped. His station wear is stained with sweat; the skin around his eyes and across the bridge of his nose darkened from the smoke that had penetrated through, dirt clinging to his body like a second skin. His suspenders hang off around his waist lazily, clinking against the bench as he shuffles around, letting out a long, drawn-out groan before standing and moving to rid himself of the day’s events with a well-deserved shower.

Firefighter!Ghost, whose vice falls to liquor. It’s nothing close to an excessive extent, but it’s enough to take the edge off and ease his mind from the horrors that come with the profession. It's a heavy task to fulfill, and having worked in the field for so long, enough so that he’s become an officer, that means he’s seen his fair share of shit, so who can blame him? After a particularly rough day, he’ll take a seat in the common room or his dorm, hand gripped tightly around the neck of a bottle of Bourbon, mask pulled up to his nose, drinking until his head spins and he can’t think. He'll wake up with a hangover that bashes against his skull, wash his face, and prepare himself for the day, only to repeat this cycle over and over again—maybe it is a bit excessive.

Firefighter!Soap

In a more unique aspect, Soap, instead of simply being a firefighter, works as a Firefighter Engineer, his primary focus being directed towards maintaining and driving firefighting vehicles and performing maintenance tasks on the vehicles. Though, still, he does play his role as a firefighter all the same, his specialized position not interfering or making it so that he has to do one or the other. He’s still put in his time to become a firefighter and accomplish the tasks that come with the profession, and he does his job well; all it is is that he plays a specialized role in addition to that fact. 

Firefighter!Soap, whose dorm is positively filled with the drawings and doodles he’s received personally when he and his crew visit local primary schools to teach them about fire safety and how to properly act during a fire drill, spends a significant amount of time telling the kids all about their careers and what they do, giving them a tour of the truck and everything. And, by the end of the day, three or four separate kids had given him drawings they had made of him and his crew. One little girl in particular gifts her drawing to him, and it’s just of him and her, holding hands, his mohawk overexaggerated, with a message written out sloppily, stating, 'I want to be just like you when I grow up!!!’.

Firefighter!Soap, who tapes each drawing he receives to the mirror in his dorm, the one he gets ready in front of each and every day without fail, fingers gently grazing over the different people within the pictures, each messy stroke of crayon, colored pencil, and washable marker. It’s a reminder to him of why he does what he does. Of why he puts his life on the line each and every day without fail. When the job gets tough and unbearable, the weight of it laying heavy on his shoulders, guilt and insecurity eating up at him, he looks at the drawings, memorizing them, committing every detail to memory—he has to make those kids proud by keeping on. And so he does. 

He dropped out of university to become a firefighter. He initially majored in the field of Military Technologies and Applied Sciences, specializing in the fields of Explosive Ordinance and Bomb Disposal, but after spending nearly five semesters in school, he concluded that the field and higher education weren’t something he was willing to pursue. So, he applied to become a firefighter when he was twenty-one, spending the first year and a half working towards getting his EMT certification and taking his CPAT, already having his driver’s license, and spending the next six months in the fire academy before he was eventually employed as a volunteer firefighter.

He spent the next two years working as a volunteer firefighter, not yet deciding to take on the role of a full-time firefighter, given he had a bit of apprehension and worries about taking on the job for longer hours. However, it was soon after he first became a volunteer firefighter that he learned about the career path of a firefighter engineer, which garnered his interest, which eventually led him down the path of driver training before ending up with the position and taking on the job full-time. 

Firefighter!Soap, who can’t even help the way his muscles flex as he works, which is most visible when he’s in his station wear—that short-sleeved button-up shirt hugging onto his biceps with ease, his pants holding onto his thighs snugly—it's the perfect combination of loose and tight. It leaves nothing and everything up for the imagination to think of. Especially when he’s sweating through his top, the fabric clings to his skin like a glove, showing off every inch of him without shame. 

Firefighter!Soap, who is so unconscious of how strong he actually is, regularly wearing equipment that can weigh up to seventy-five pounds (34.01 kilograms), not to mention the weight of the hose and the pressure it exudes, the way he has to control it, or all of the other equipment he uses while on the job. Because he’s so unaware of it, this just leads to him picking up some of the heaviest things—people, too—and acting as if they were nothing, because, to his credit, it isn’t anything to him. 

Firefighter!Soap, who is an earlier riser. He wakes up the earliest of anyone who works at the station, being the first one to arrive at work if he’s sleeping off site. He tidies up what he sees, maybe goes out and grabs some coffee or pastries for his co-workers, and just relaxes and basks in the silence of the station—that is, before the others begin to arrive, of course. If he’s sleeping on site? Same thing. The only difference is that he doesn’t have to rush around like he typically would; driving to work takes up the most of his time, so he can work at his leisure if he's already at the station.

Firefighter!Gaz

Gaz, arguably the coolest of them all (it’s not an arguable statement whatsoever; it’s just a fact), gets the job, plain and simple, of just being a firefighter. Responding to emergency calls, performing search and rescues, providing aid with traffic accidents, and educating the public on fire safety are just some of the tasks he completes each and every day. The job is both physically and mentally grueling. Yes, the horrors that can come with the job are unlike any other, but god, is it such a rewarding profession to be able to see the direct result of your actions 

Firefighter!Gaz, who actually really enjoys having new recruits shadow under him their first few months on the job. Even in meeting them for the first time, he has such a welcoming and warm personality, not at all shy to introduce himself, how long he’s been working in the field, the ups and downs of the job—everything! He spends a lot of time getting to know the recruit, not just in a professional sense but a personal one, too, and it fosters such an accepting environment that the recruit can become comfortable in, which is the whole goal!

Firefighter!Gaz, who can be stern sometimes when it comes to teaching newer recruits, but those occasions come far and few between, favoring a gentler, kinder approach of encouragement and redirecting and teaching the recruits on how to properly hook up the truck to a hydrant or operate the pressure controls for the water on the truck as opposed to yelling and barking out orders with a firm strictness. The Chief typically sends all of the new recruits over to Gaz for this exact reason, and, as you might have guessed, these recruits become professionals in no time. 

Unlike the others, Gaz actually had the intention of joining the fire department since he was young. He was one of those little boys who had a number of different toy trucks and cars and played with them obsessively, and his favorites were the firefighter trucks. His dream of becoming a firefighter was solidified when they came to his primary school one day. One of the firefighters present gifted him one of those crappy plastic helmets, letting him sit in the truck and telling him everything he wanted to know. 

From that point onwards, he dedicated himself to becoming a firefighter, spending years getting himself into the ideal physical shape required for the job, taking medical and health courses throughout secondary school to prepare himself for the EMT training program he’d apply to take once he turned eighteen, obtaining his license as quickly as possible—he's devoted to the career path, and he fully intends to push every ounce of his being into fulfilling the role to the best of his abilities, and then some. The day he graduates from the fire academy, in addition to actually receiving an offer to join a station as a volunteer firefighter, he swears up and down, is single-handedly the best day of his life. 

Firefighter!Gaz, who's almost always the first one to rush inside a burning building, given that it’s still structurally stable and will remain that way for the duration of time that he’s inside, holds a hatchet in both hands, firmly grasped, kicking the front door inwards before making his way through the interior. He’s completely composed, not an inch of doubt taunting him as he sweeps the area, finding civilians and immediately working to usher them out of the building, barking orders in a way where it sounds less like a command, so softer and so much more filled with care. He can easily sling anyone over his shoulder, hold them in his arms, or lift them on his back if need be, rough grunts resounding from him, strained at times from both the heat and the weight of carrying another human being.

Firefighter!Gaz, who doesn't ever complain or tell the other person to move and fend for themselves, because that’s his job, and he’ll be damned if he doesn’t fulfill it to the fullest. Given he doesn’t have any civilians to worry about, he’s rushing through flames, heat nipping at his PPE, trying its hardest to penetrate the fabric, failing while he comes out of the building, fire trailing after him, smoke and dirt caking his body beneath his uniform, and labored breaths wracking his body. All he can do is rip off his SCBA when he's at a safe distance from the smoke, mask off, sweat dripping down his skin, soak his hair, and kick his head back as he breathes the smell of anything but smoke.

Firefighter!Gaz, who always walks around the station in his bunker gear, is ready to go at a moment's notice. He's rarely seen in something as simple as his station wear, complaining that the uniform is unnecessary to be seen in if he’s going to change into his bunker gear anyway. In reality, the weight of the gear is comforting to him—it's heavy, yes, and can leave him sweating until he’s certain he’s drenched if he’s in it for too long—but the weight, feel, smell, and overall “vibe” of the bunker gear is something he’s spent his whole life dreaming of. Why be out of it if he’s dedicated his life to becoming the person to wear it?

[magical-characters-tourney]

Magical Boy Tournament: Round 4

Entrant Propaganda:

Stormy

“When you stare into the void, the void stares back”

pollrunner’s son

he can probably teleport

purrmachine 9000

the most loyal cat in the world (according to pollrunner, who is biased)

He followed Haruto home and is now an ESA for a kamen rider. he's doing well. he likes to ride around on Haruto’s shoulder like a parrot.

Haruto Souma

VOTE FOR HARUTO. he is so special and so fucking cool

haruto casts 'gun'

this is so funny. you are all falling for his act. promote him more like this hed fucking LOVE it. sometimes i forget what peoples perception of haruto is like when they DONT think about him for hours every single day. like i would never say 'he is so cool' about a first impression more like 'he is the most mentally ill bitch ivr seen in my life'

HE IS COOL HE'S JUST USING IT TO DEFLECT [so] vote haruto he's such a nerd

plain sugar donuts strong enough to kill a god

Love Kamen Rider “Do as I Say not as I Do”, drives around all day telling people to get therapy, refuses to get therapy himself

Tadase Hotori

My dear son boy with a magical egg that turns him into a king.

[amyyythestarry]

DONUTS FOR TBHK CHARACTERS

Strawberry icing donut with sprinkles.

Cake batter donut.

Plain cake donut.

Glaze donut with raspberry filling.

Glaze donut.

Apple fritter donut.

Strawberry icing donut.

Cake donut with chocolate icing.

Chocolate icing donut with custard filling.

Glazed cruller donut.

Blueberry cake donut with glaze.

Chocolate icing donut with cream filling.

Powered sugar donut.

Glaze donut with cream filling.

Chocolate chip cookie donut.

[asknarashikari]

Shouma trying the many donuts at Donut Shop Hungry, including the specials

Shouma produces a Gochizou when he eats a plain sugar doughnut (themed after Wizard, ofc) and Haruto is beside himself with joy, using it to prove that plain sugar is the superior doughnut flavor...

Then he eats one of the stranger concoctions... and it makes a Gochizou based on Infinity. RIP