#there’s a grease fire on the stove

[ivanttakethis]

*taps mic*

If MiziSua and IvanTill’s storylines are meant to be foils of one another, I think Ivan should live to continue the theme of opposite arcs/outcomes—

*dodges rotten tomatoes as the crowd starts booing, someone throws a folding chair*

[dykedvonte]

Mouthwashing AU where they work in a fast food place

corpirate wouldn't let them close down during a hurricane and now they're shut in for the forseeable future

instead of mouthwash it's a massive shipment of expired special sauce

Curly gets horrifically burned by the deep fryer after Jimmy dumped an entire bag of ice in it

I like normal real life aus because I treat it like Curly is just mildly injured/incapacitated (like sick leave) as their boss/manager and Jimmy takes over because like, no one is gonna die but when he wakes up or comes back it’s basically this:

Like there is no reason working at a Pony Express themed Waffle House should lead to death and destruction of that magnitude but Jimmy finds a way. He likely caused the fucking hurricane.

[eulaliasims]

Character growth. 😔

Jack: Daddy, guess what I've been reading? This book has all sorts of fire safety tips!

Martin: Oh thank the watcher--I mean, that's great, sweetie.

Jack: Did you know you shouldn't throw water on a grease fire? I just learned that!

[painted-bees]

Can margritte cook worth a shit?

NO HAHA no she can't

Girl dinner consists of untoasted poptarts and a fruit rollup.

[motherhenna]

ADHD / Depression Cooking Update

Hey all just wanted to share that I am now making my own chicken quesadillas! Finally getting comfortable whipping out the pan and turning on the stovetop, and it's a lot easier than I remember it being once upon a time. (Helps that it's an electric stove, as I still have a lot of anxiety around gas.) Cleaning pots and pans in my tiny sink is annoying but I'm sure it's worth the effort. I think the hardest part--ie using my apartment's stove for the first time--is behind me now, and I'm finally going to start experimenting with some of the meal ideas you guys sent me as well as some of the ones I found on my own.

[gexavery]

Wow.... just had a really incredible first experience... im learning so much about life ever since coming out as a girl

[miniseokminnies]

the subtle art of stirring the pot —- l.sm

⭑.ᐟ pairing: lee seokmin x fem!reader ⭑.ᐟ theme: coworkers to lovers, annoyances to lovers, sous chef!seokmin ⭑.ᐟ w/c: 9k ⭑.ᐟ warnings: 18+ MDNI, mentions of food, stressful work environment, insults, jealousy, switch!seokmin, switch!reader, semi public make outs, protected sex (that's a yes yes), marking, fingering, multiple orgasms, slight angst, miscommunications ⭑.ᐟ a/n: written as part of the Lonely Hearts Café collab put on by @camandemstudios - make sure to check out the full collab masterlist here send over some love! (haha get it) thanks a million to my lovely beta readers: @tomodachiii and @lovetaroandtaemin and a special shoutout to @seungkw1 for betaing and overall keeping me sane

Ring ring ring

The chaos of a kitchen is only aided by the sound of orders being put in.  Saturdays are statistically the busiest days of the week, and being a restaurant in New York City, Quartz and Serenity is no exception.  You had been frantically chopping carrots for the better part of an hour.  

“Y/N!” The head chef called out to you, “Go get more mushrooms, chicken, and sherry for me please.”  Without another word you jogged toward the walk in refrigerator to retrieve the ingredients.  The last few years you’ve spent in this kitchen has allowed you to map it all out to a science, which in a way it was.  You felt like a part of this well oiled machine and you handled the pressure with ease.  

You piled the ingredients in your arms and pushed out of the walk in.  You began to unpack the items on the counter next to the chef.  He instructed you to take them out of their packages and begin chopping them for him.  While the dinner service ran smoothly, there was an air of stress that always comes with being short staffed. You always pulled it off though, and tonight was no different.    

The moment you crossed from the hallway into your apartment, you dropped your bag to the floor and kicked off your shoes. You smelled like grease and sweat.  The apartment was bathed in the yellow light above your stove you left on this morning.  There were dishes in the sink and cook books stacked up around the kitchen.  

Sighing, you dragged yourself to the bathroom.  You dropped your chef’s coat into the laundry pile and waited for the water to get warm.  Once hot, the water ran over you, loosening your tight muscles.  You stood in the stall staring at the wall for several minutes, mind wandering to what ingredients you had in your refrigerator and whether or not you should just order something.  

The water sputtered and threatened to turn cold all too quickly.  You rushed through your routine, savoring the last few drops of warm water.  It went straight from warm to ice cold in seconds as you were rinsing your conditioner out of your hair.  

Clad in pajamas, you stared into the boiling water on the stove.  You dumped probably too much pasta into the water and turned to the other burner.  You mixed together ingredients in a pan over the fire to make a sauce. This was a typical meal for you after manning the kitchen at Quartz and Serenity because it was easy and not on the menu.  

No matter how much you enjoyed cooking, you always tended to get tired of the food that you worked around all day.  Customer complaints and repetitive pressure did that to you.  You wouldn’t change a thing though, this is what you loved.  

“Everyone!” You heard the booming voice of the head chef call through the kitchen, “I have someone to introduce you to!” The staff and yourself meandered to the center of the kitchen where Chef Choi was standing with a man you didn’t recognize.  He was around your age, maybe a bit older.  His features were so striking, you almost missed the chef’s coat he was wearing.   

“This is Chef Lee,” your boss smiled, clapping the man on the back, “He is our new sous chef!” You didn’t hear anything he said after that, you felt like the walls were closing in on you.  You could feel eyes on you but you stared straight ahead.  You could feel your jaw tighten as you bored a hole into Chef Lee’s stupid head with your eyes.  

Once you were dismissed back to your stations to prepare for dinner service you saw him hovering near your station out of the corner of your eye.  

“Can I help you?” 

“Oh!” He smiled sheepishly.  “I just wanted to introduce myself to everyone individually! You can call me Seokmin.” “Okay, can I get back to what I need to do, Chef Lee?” You looked back to your knife.  

“Uh, sure…what is your name first?”

“Y/N.” You gestured to the nametag pinned to your coat.  He nodded and wandered away towards the wait staff.  You rolled your eyes.  

Throughout the night you were tasked with showing your new coworker the way things run at Quartz and Serenity and much to your displeasure, he was very excited to be there.  Every so often he gave you room to breathe by floating around the kitchen, observing everything.  However, everytime he returned to your side you thought you might punch him.  

Somehow you made it through the dinner service.  It wasn’t your turn to clean up the kitchen tonight so you bolted to the bus station as fast as possible.  You didn’t say goodbye to anyone, knowing that you might get sucked into doing something with your coworkers.  

Once on the bus you check your class schedule on your phone, only to realize with horror that you have a test tomorrow.  Your stomach turned with the dread of having to be up all night studying, again.  

—-

“Need any help with anything?” Seokmin’s sickly sweet voice offered at your side.  

“No.” You were already on edge today, you made it through your test by the skin of your teeth and your professor made that abundantly clear.  You had no time, or patience, for him right now.  

“I saw you prep yesterday, I could do part of that for you,” he pushed.  

“No thank you, Chef Lee.” You asserted through gritted teeth.  “I would ask Chef Choi if I were you.” He slinked away like a kicked puppy while you continued chopping vegetables.  It’s not your fault that he is completely out of his element and didn’t know what he was doing.  

However, when orders came pouring in you noticed that his confidence seemed to double from last night.  He was able to keep up with different elements, even without knowing the recipes very well yet.  

The kitchen was louder than it had been in months, the new addition to your team taking it upon himself to fill the room with music, from his own mouth, to your dismay.  You weren’t sure how much of his relentless optimism you could take, especially today.  He floated around the kitchen with a carelessness that you would never be able to comprehend.  

To your horror, at the end of the night Chef Choi announced that tonight was the most efficient night the restaurant has had in several weeks.  

“You’re singing.” You deadpanned without looking up from the vegetables on your cutting board.  

“Y/NNNNN” Seokmin mused, “How was your dayyy?”

“Don’t ask me how I’ve been.” You forced your knife through a carrot, “Just do your job, and stop singing.” There were exactly three seconds of silence before Seokmin moved from singing to humming.  You slammed your knife down onto the cutting board.  “I’m taking a five!” You huffed and turned toward the walk-in. Seokmin stopped humming.  

The tears started as soon as the door closed behind you. Your back slid down the wall, the coldness biting through your clothes.  It was stupid to cry, but you couldn’t help it; he was so infuriating.  You had no idea what Chef Choi saw in him.  The tears sliding down your cheeks smudged the swipe of mascara you put on this morning? Yesterday? Couldn’t have been more than two days ago…

The door opened. 

“So, what’s up?” Seokmin asked softly, leaning against the wall next to you.

“Oh my god!” You cried, “Can’t you leave me alone for a single second?”        

“I did,” he blinked at you, “If I had it my way, I would’ve followed right away.”

“I’m in here because of you!” Your voice cracked, a new bout of tears threatening to spill, “I would have loved it if you didn’t come in at all!” 

“Well….technically, I’m…kind of your boss.”

“God, ew, no not really,” you scrunched your face in a look of disgust, “Chef Choi is our boss.” 

“Y/N, what did I ever do to you?”

“The kitchen ran smoothly without you!” You informed him, “Everything was fine without you!” 

“Now wait a minute,” there was an edge to his voice that you had never heard before, “I have never messed anything up.” 

“Well–” 

“No,” he cut you off, “Seriously, you may not like how I operate, that’s fine, but you aren’t going to sit here and tell me that I’m a problem in this kitchen.”  His words were firm but it was hard to miss the tears swelling in his eyes. 

“This is serious to me.” You hardened your gaze.  

“And it isn’t to me?”   

“Doesn’t seem like it.” 

“God,” He sighed.  “Y/N, maybe this can be a lesson for you.  No one is ever going to do things exactly as you expect them to.  That doesn’t mean they’re wrong.” He stood up to leave.

“You can’t just walk away after you talked down to me!” You shot to your feet. “You think I’m some dumb kid!” He turned to look at you, you chose to ignore the glimmer of a tear on his cheek. “I’m at the top of my class! I know what I’m doing!” 

“What are you trying to prove?” His voice rose now too, “I never said you didn’t know what you were doing! Do you want me to?” You blinked at him.  “You couldn’t even julienne the carrots today! Why? All because I was singing?”  He wiped the tear away from his skin angrily.  He moved toward you and crowded you against the wall.  The proximity forced you to look up at him, his face was stone.  “What’s your problem with me, Y/N?” He whispered, looking down his nose at you.  The cold of the refrigerator made the warm breath fanning across your cheeks even harder to ignore.

“We have a kitchen to get back to…” You tried to avoid looking at his lips.   

“You don’t think I’m serious about this,” he planted his hand on the wall next to your head, “So does it matter if I get back to that kitchen?” 

“You said I didn’t know what I’m doing! So I guess the kitchen doesn’t need either of us at this point!” You jutted your chin up defiantly.  He chuckled sarcastically.  

“You’re being so ridiculous right now, are you like this with every new hire?”   

“No, only the ones I find irritating,” and incredibly attractive, your thoughts wandered.  Rookie mistake, your eyes flit to his lips before you had time to think.  When your eyes returned to his he was looking at you, absolutely bewildered.  Then, in one swift motion he smashed his lips to yours.  The way he kissed you was just as angry as the way he was talking to you moments ago; his lips moved with a fervor that was almost malicious.  

Your fingers found the front of his chef’s coat, you attempted to pull him closer.  He whined into your mouth at the feeling of being wanted.  The sound awakened something in you and heat settled in your stomach.  You shifted your weight trying to ignore it.  Seokmin nudged you with his knee until you parted your legs slightly for him to slot his thigh between.  He was firm and muscular pressed against your core and it took everything in you to not rock against it.  

With a jolt you remembered where you were and who you were with.  You pushed against his chest until he moved away from you.  Eyes wide and cheeks flushed, Seokmin seemed as though he realized the same thing.  

“Come out when you're ready,” he nodded and left the walk-in without looking back.  You tightened your ponytail and took a deep breath before following him out.  You returned to your station and picked up the knife you abandoned before the ordeal.  “Thin as matchsticks, Y/N.” Seokmin reminded you through kiss-bruised lips.   

“Table 13 sends its compliments to the chef!” Soonyoung comes barreling into the kitchen carrying plates to deposit into the wash.  

“That was the last table right?” Seokmin breathed a sigh of relief.  

“Yup!” Soonyoung popped the “P” and punctuated the exclamation by dumping the dishes he was carrying into the sink.  You had the day off and Seokmin felt the pressure of your absence throughout the entire day.  

The encounter he had with you was heavy on his mind all day, the first day he’s spent in this kitchen without you by his side.  He still couldn’t figure out what it was that he could have possibly done to you in the short time you’ve worked together.  

“Hey Soonyoung?” He called without thinking.  Soonyoung turned to him with a questioning look on his face.  “You’ve been here a while right?” “Yeah, why?” Soonyoung reached around Seokmin and grabbed at the carrots, earning him a slap on the hand.  He winced and pulled his hand to his chest.  

“Can you think of any reason Y/N would dislike me?” 

“Hm? Y/N?” Soonyoung mumbled, “Oh! The scary one.  Yeah I try not to talk to her much.” 

“Because she scares you?” “Because she scares me.” Soonyoung nodded.  

“She wanted your job.” One of the waitresses, Jeongyeon, asserted from the doorway.  Seokmin switched his attention to her, almost begging her to clarify.  She sighed and adjusted her bag on her shoulder.  “She’s about to graduate, the position was vacant for so long that she was under the impression that Chef Choi had decided to hold it for her.” Seokmin moved across the kitchen to beg her to tell him everything.  

“Why would she assume that?” He pleaded.  

“You have no idea how long your position was vacant, do you?” She turned to leave, “She was acting as unofficial sous chef for almost a year.  In her opinion there’s no reason she shouldn’t have your job by now, diploma or not.”  He looked down at the floor. "Oh, and stop looking at her with those puppy dog eyes, she'll chop your fingers off."

Eventually, Seokmin dragged himself home.  His apartment felt too big, too empty.  He wished he could stop thinking about you, if he was honest.  He stared into his pantry and quickly decided he had no desire to actually cook.  He popped an instant ramen into the microwave and went to go change his clothes.  

The microwave was beeping four minutes later, he pulled the cup out and narrowly avoided burning his hand on the outside.  He set the ramen on the counter and dug through the refrigerator in search of something to drink.  There was not a lot to be found, besides a full pack of wine coolers he bought weeks ago in hopes he could invite some people from work over to celebrate working together, clearly that never happened.  

About two hours later, Seokmin was crying to the credits of Dear Evan Hansen with five empty wine coolers on his coffee table and a sixth to his lips.  Whether he was crying over the movie or something else entirely, he wasn’t sure.  

He still couldn’t stop his mind from wandering to you, he had new information to mull over, but he still couldn’t understand why you hated him.  He would’ve talked it over with you if you just came to him with the issue instead of giving him the silent treatment.  Even worse, he couldn’t stop thinking about the feeling of your lips on his.  

Your lips and the warmth of your body against his had been running through his mind since it happened.  He continued to sip from the bottle as he thought about you.  He admired you in a way, so headstrong and willing to go after what you wanted, even if that got him yelled at.  He didn’t really care, he realized you were pretty even when you were insulting him.  

Soon the bottle was empty and Seokmin’s eyes were closed thinking about your mouth.  He knew he would never live it down if you knew, but that didn’t stop him from delivering the soft initial touches over his shorts.  Eventually pulling them down, letting his semi hard cock spring free, and pumping himself until he was stiff.  

His voice surprised him, sounding foreign to his ears, whispering your name to his empty apartment. Everything became muffled as he heard the blood rushing in his ears, he felt his own hips sputter and he picked up his pace, fucking up into his hand.  He thought about the pretty way you said his name with an edge to your voice and he was quickly undone.       

You pushed the french fries around in the basket, the parchment paper soaking up the grease they left behind.  You barely got three bites into your burger before you felt sick again and resorted to just pretending to eat.  Maybe an entire bottle of wine to yourself last night and sleeping until 1 pm was not your best idea, but desperate times call for desperate measures.  

You checked the time, you have to be at work in a little over an hour, and you knew you had to eat something for your stomach to stop swirling.  You sighed and picked up the burger again, and took a bite.  Your body tried to protest but eventually you felt your stomach calming, thankful to have food.  You laid your head back onto the back of the booth and closed your eyes for a moment, taking deep breaths.  

“Rough night?” You cracked an eye open to see Seokmin standing over you, a basket matching yours in hand.  “Me too,” he lifted his basket in a gesture of comradery.  “May I sit?” You nodded, not having the energy to argue with him over it.  You sat up and studied his face briefly.  He had bags under his eyes like you, his hair was more askew than normal, and he was wearing the biggest hoodie you had ever seen.  

“What got you so hung up?” You asked, selecting another fry from your basket.  

“Oh,” he didn’t look at you, “I just have a lot on my mind, you?”

“You.” His eyes snapped to you, clearly surprised by your boldness.  

“What?” He sputtered around a mouthful of his burger.  

“I’m sure this isn’t the first time you’ve annoyed someone to the point of drowning in alcohol.” 

“I mean, maybe,” he dropped the burger into the basket, “but no one has ever been so bold as to tell me outright…” 

“Are you pouting right now?” Seokmin crossed his arms over his chest at your words, once again refusing to look at you.  “See!” You scoff, “this is what I mean, you get everything you want and when someone calls you out on your bullshit you can’t handle it!” You pushed your food away from you with a huff.  

“I get everything I want?” He raised an eyebrow at you.  “You know I graduated from culinary school, just like you’re about to?” He leaned his elbows on the table, getting closer to you.  “I worked hard to get where I am, and I was hired because I come highly complimented from previous bosses.” 

“What is this? Your resume?” 

“Let me show you, come to dinner with me on Thursday, we both have the day off” 

“So you can brag?”

“No,” he cracked a smile. “So we can get to know each other better, and maybe put this behind us.”

You stared up at the facade of the restaurant.  This building had been your dream for years, since you moved to the city.  Now, because of Seokmin, you were able to dine here? It almost doesn't seem fair. 

“Hey!” Seokmin’s voice pulled you out of your thoughts. “Sorry I’m late; I hope you weren’t waiting long!” You turned to him and shook your head.  “Oh good, shall we?” He ushered you inside, lightly touching the small of your back.  You tried to ignore the feeling in your stomach at the small gesture.   

Once inside, he let his hand drop but stayed close to you.  He leaned around you to speak to the man at the host stand.  “Table for two, the name Lee should be on your list?” The man flipped through a few sheets of paper before stopping to read through a short list of names. Seokmin’s hand returned to your back, pushing you to follow the man through the restaurant.  

The decor was almost enough to distract you from the warmth of Seokmin spreading through your body as he pressed his hand against you more firmly.  The ornate light fixtures bathed the room in a soft light, making everything feel more dreamlike and romantic.  

Seokmin pulled out your chair for you as the host was informing the two of you that a waiter would be with you soon.  As Seokmin took his seat, you had a moment to take him in.  You had never seen him wearing anything besides his chef’s coat.  He had the sleeves of his collared shirt rolled up, showing off his watch and his toned arms.  

“See anything you like?” 

“What?” Your eyes widened, and a blush creeped up your cheeks.  He pushes a menu towards you.  

“Anything?” He smiles, choosing not to bring attention to your obvious staring.  You shoved your face into the menu and began to study it intently.   After a few minutes of silence the waiter provided glasses of water and a promise to return in a few minutes to take your orders.  You laid your menu flat on the table and looked up at Seokmin.  

“What do you like?” You asked sheepishly.  He chuckled to himself and set his menu down.  

“Well,” he pointed at the wine selection, “I was going to order us wine. Do you like white or red?” 

“White, usually,” 

“Okay, so,” he looked at you over his glasses, “you know enough about wine pairings to know what dishes a white wine rules out.” You nodded. “They have a lovely creamy pumpkin penne dish that pairs nicely with chardonnay, and we could share a brie sampler for an appetizer?”  

“Honestly, that sounds wonderful,” you smile at him. You let him order everything for the two of you.  He lets the silence linger for a few minutes while you wait for your wine.  Once the glasses are poured, and he’s confident no one will bother you for a while, he breaks the silence he crafted.  

“You’re much more shy outside of the kitchen,” he observed.  

“I’m out of my depth,” you admitted quietly.  He raised an eyebrow and took a sip of his wine, inviting you to go on.  “I’ve been waiting to eat here since I moved to New York, and you just happen to have your name permanently on the list?”  

“I know the chef,” he muttered into his wine.  

“I know how highly qualified you are,” you informed him, “you’re experienced out of the ears and I’m just some kid in culinary school.” 

“Well,” he tipped his glass forward to clink it with yours, “you can legally drink, so you’re not a kid.” He watched you smile, “And for what it’s worth, I think you’re really talented.” 

“Oh don’t say stuff like that to me,” you rolled your eyes and picked up your wine glass, “You might get me to come around to you.”

“Oh God forbid, we can’t have that.”

“Where’s Y/N?” Seokmin was frantically moving through the kitchen.  “Dinner service starts in 40 minutes, why aren’t any of you telling me where Y/N is?” 

“She’s in the dining room, damn…” 

Seokmin knew that you closed the restaurant last night, opened this morning, and the two of you were closing together tonight.  So, when he found you asleep in a booth in the dining room, he wasn’t surprised.  You often used the few hours Quartz and Serenity was closed between breakfast and dinner to catch up on studying.  

Your head was resting on your arms, your ponytail was loose and strands of hair were falling in your face.  He reached to brush them away from your eyes but stopped short when he read the papers under your hand.  Application for Employment. He read it over and over with his hand hovering above your head.  He felt his stomach drop so fast he was afraid it would fall out of his ass.  

Taking a deep breath he let his hand settle on top of your head. He rubbed your hair softly with his thumb for a few moments, hoping that you would wake up.  When you didn’t stir, he moved his hand to your shoulder and shook you lightly.  

“Y/N,” he leaned closer to you.  Your eyes opened slowly.  “Hey,” he smiled, “dinner service starts in 30. I would let you sleep, but we need the table.” You jolted upright at his words, knocking his hand back to his side.  

“In 30?!” You began to shuffle your papers back into the folder and snapped your book closed, “why didn’t anyone grab me sooner?”  Seokmin didn’t have time to answer before you were breezing past him toward the kitchen.  He watched you until you disappeared into the back room, agonizing over what he would do if you actually left Quartz and Serenity.  

The entire dinner service was spent the same way, Seokmin becoming flustered when you assisted him.  If he was being honest with himself, he would be impressed with how easily you were able to bounce back to routine.  It was almost as if the hiccup from before didn’t even happen. 

You moved through this kitchen like you’ve been in it your entire life, Seokmin truly could not imagine this place without you.  He didn’t want to think about the fact that he didn’t want this kitchen to run without you.  But you deserved to run a restaurant in his opinion.  He wanted you to call the shots and to be successful, even if that meant he and Chef Choi would be competing against you after your graduation.  Then it hit him; he also wanted to be selfish and hide you away for himself.  

“Can’t you move any faster?” You shoved a soapy dish towards Seokmin.  The two of you were the only people left in the building after a successful Sunday.  You were eager to get home and sleep after the worst lineup of shifts.  You picked up a shift from a coworker because you desperately needed the money, but you didn’t think ahead to how your bones would ache after it all.  

“If you would rinse the soap off I could,” he sighed.  He pulled the faucet head toward the dish in your hand, spraying you lightly with the water.  

“Seokmin!” You squealed in annoyance. Grabbing the faucet back from him, you angled it towards him.  The water rolled off his exposed forearms, his coat sleeves long pushed up over his elbows.  He raised an eyebrow at you, almost like a challenge.   He plunged his hands into the sink filled with soapy water and splashed it up onto your coat. 

It wasn’t like you to sink to his level. Any other day, you would put a stop to this, get the dishes done, and go straight home.  However, you’re not stupid and didn’t miss a single look in your direction through the entire day.  Seokmin looked at you like a lovesick puppy everytime.  Something about those looks lit a fire in your belly, and you didn’t care to find out if it was anger or interest. 

So, you followed suit. You cupped your hands around a gaggle of bubbles, lifted it high above your head and smoothed the soap into his dark hair.  He stood motionless for a moment, looking down at you in disbelief as his hair dripped onto the floor.  Finally, he swiped his hands through his wet hair, slicking it back and exposing his forehead.  Somehow it seemed like his features became more sharp and striking with his hair pushed away.  Your eyes followed the sharp slope of his nose down to his lips and back to his dark eyes.  

He moved toward you quietly.  The tension hung thick in the air. He cupped your jaw with his wet hands, eventually moving to thread suds through your ponytail.  Any part of him that thought he might kiss you was dampened by the water you suddenly hurled out of the sink at that exact moment.  He yelped and moved away from you. 

“We have dishes to finish, Chef Lee.” You smirked.  The dishes in question were finished and dried in complete silence.  The water and the clattering of the glass were the only sounds in the room.  

“Let me take you home,” Seokmin broke the silence.  

“What?” You gaped at him.  

“No…” A blush creeped up his neck, “not like that.  You take the bus, right?” You nodded at him.  “You’re all wet, just let me drive you to your place.” 

“You don’t have to do that…” 

“I know,” he smiled sheepishly, “but I want to, please?” 

Somehow, he convinced you.  You were panicked, too panicked to even make fun of him for being the kind of person who lived in New York City and owned a car.  He passed his phone over to you and instructed you to put your address into the maps app.

The ride was silent, your leg bounced as you watched the location get closer and closer. You nearly threw yourself out of the car when he parked in front of the building.  

“Bye! See you Tuesday!” You blurted as you ran towards the lobby of the building.  Seokmin waved, confused, at the back of your head. 

“You need to stop telling people you live here.” The front desk attendant deadpanned.  

“I know, Jane,” you ducked to spy out the window.  

“Who is it this time? Bad date?” Jane was used to you showing up in her lobby every few weeks at this point.  You were lucky that she loved to gossip or else she would have banned you from the building months ago. 

“Ugh, no,” you watched Seokmin’s car pull away from the curb, “My coworker.”

“Why do you care if your coworker knows where you live?” 

“Honestly?” You stood up and moved toward her desk, “I’m not sure…”

“Hm,” she holds out a lollipop to you, “might want to unpack that.” 

“Yeah, yeah,” you unwrap the candy and pop it into your mouth, “whatever.” You exit the building with a wave and begin the short walk to your actual apartment.       

“Red wine this time.” Seokmin declared as you slid into your chair.  

“Feeling bold today are we?” 

“Well,” he chuckled, “It’s a steakhouse, so we have to pair correctly!” This was the second installment of what Seokmin had started calling Seokmin's Surely Spectacular Suggestions .  You were starting to realize that he knows a lot more than you thought he did.  He always seemed to know someone at every restaurant, if not multiple people.   

“Oh my god!” A woman’s voice pulled you from your thoughts.  You looked up and the waitress was smiling at Seokmin. “It is so nice to see you!” 

“Oh!” Seokmin smiled widely at her, “I didn’t think you worked on Thursdays!” 

“Ugh!” She put her hand on her hip, “I don’t usually! Dosie needed the day off and as a good friend I took the shift.” She laughed and rolled her eyes.  You watched Seokmin’s face contort into a laugh.  Something panged in your chest watching them laugh together.  Suddenly, you were extremely interested in the menu in front of you as you tried not to think about what that could possibly mean.  Seokmin and the waitress chatted for several more minutes before she bounced away.  She never looked in your direction the entire time she was at the table.  

“Ordered us wine, hope that’s okay.” Seokmin knocked on the table in front of you to get your attention.  You hummed affirmatively. “What’s wrong? Have you decided you hate me again?”

“No,” You didn’t look at him.  You felt him stare at you from across the table, you held strong and did not look up from the menu.  It didn’t matter that you had read the words 8 oz wagyu beef steak and garlic potatoes six times, you couldn’t look at him.

The same waitress from earlier came back with your wine and a basket of bread. She placed everything down on the table and turned to Seokmin again.  

“Are you ready to order?” She smiled.  

“No, we need a few minutes.” You snapped before you had time to stop yourself. Seokmin shifted his gaze to you.  

“Oh, uh…okay.” The waitress blinked at you and turned on her heel without a second look.  

“What was that?” Seokmin was looking at you like you had grown a second head at some point in the last thirty seconds.  

“Nothing, she was pushy.” You shrugged, feigning nonchalance.  

“No she wasn’t.”

“She was!” You finally looked at him, he looked like a confused puppy, “You just didn’t see it because she was flirting with you.”   

“What are you talking abo–” His face contorted into a smirk, “Are you jealous?” He dropped his voice to a whisper.

“I’m going to the bathroom.” You declared, pushing out of your chair.  You all but stomped all the way to the bathroom, mentally cursing yourself for being jealous in the first place. A hand encircled your wrist as you turned the corner to the hallway that housed the bathrooms.  You turned to find Seokmin latched on to you.  He pulled you into the bathroom and locked the door behind you.  Looking him up and down he looked almost as shocked at his own actions as you felt.   

“Were you jealous?” He whispered, “I have to know, because if you don’t tell me it’ll eat me alive for the rest of my life.” You couldn’t help but think he was being just a little dramatic. You slotted your hand into the hair on the back of his head and pulled his lips to yours anyway.  

It took him a few moments to respond properly.  When his brain caught up to what was happening he kissed you back hungrily.  His lips moved roughly and he wrapped his arms around your waist. He pulled you as close as possible and swiped his tongue along your bottom lip.  You deepened the kiss and allowed him to explore further with his tongue.  

Seokmin had a way of putting every emotion he was feeling into his actions, it was evident when he kissed you angrily weeks ago, and it was evident now.  It felt like weeks of anger and bickering had melted off the two of you and now what was left was want and attraction that was left unsaid.  

He detached himself from your mouth and moved to kiss over your pulse point.  You squeezed your eyes shut and threw your head back to give him better access.  Experimentally, he sucked gently on the skin below your ear, earning him a quiet moan.  He did it again. 

“Let’s go home,” he panted into your skin. “Please.”  

“Seokmin we’ve only had wine,” you whispered  

“I’ll make you pizza at home, I don’t care, I just need you.” He whined.  

—-

Seokmin fumbled with the key to his apartment, his thoughts were elsewhere at the moment.  Finally, he unlocked the door and ushered you inside.  You tried not to think about the fact that his apartment was about double the size of yours.  He kissed you again once he had the door locked and you both inside.  His hands found your hips and he pulled you closer as he was licking into your mouth.  He tasted like wine, the same one you knew was on your lips as well.  

“You owe me pizza, Chef Lee..” You whispered, breaking away from his desperate mouth. 

“Oh my god, Y/N,” he groaned, “I can make pizza with my eyes closed.” His confidence was attractive, it was rare for him to be cocky like that.  

“You didn’t buy me dinner, and I’m a lady.” He scoffed and rolled his eyes before grabbing and lifting you up, forcing you to wrap your legs around his trim waist.  You yelped in surprise, you had no idea he could do that.  He plopped you down on the kitchen island and moved to the other countertop.  You watched as he rolled out pizza dough.  His arm muscles bulged as he put in effort to flatten it.  “Not even homemade dough?” You teased, “Some chef!” 

He sent you a glare out of the corner of his eye, but the blush creeping up his neck gave him away.  Suddenly it clicked, “oh my god, do you get turned on when I’m mean to you?” You smirked.  

“Shut up…” Seokmin muttered while opening the pizza sauce.  

“Well…better hurry that prep…” You smiled wickedly, spreading your legs.  Seokmin glanced over at you and nearly moaned at the sight of your panties under your dress.  He frantically pressed the buttons to preheat the oven.  Once the pizzas were ready to be put in the oven he slotted himself between your legs and captured your lips once more.  

You guided his hand to your breast and encouraged him to squeeze.  He placed his other hand on your exposed thigh.  He trailed his fingers slowly up and up towards your center until the oven beeped.  He groaned and ran over to place the pans in the oven and set the timer. 

“Take your pants off.” You stated simply when he turned back to you.  He nodded and stumbled out of his jeans, the thin fabric of his briefs left little to the imagination as he was hard by this point.  He moved toward you and you ran a hand over his clothed cock, he hissed at the contact.  

“One second,” He blurted before disappearing down the hall.  You contemplated touching yourself while he was gone, but he returned in a rush before you had the chance.  He wiggled a small foil package in his fingers to show you why he left.  

“Who said you could hit?” 

“I–well I just figured…”

“I was about to start without you just now, I could still do that.” You could tell that Seokmin was weighing his options, knowing it would be so hot to see you get yourself off, but needing the feeling of being inside you.  

“No, no!” He sputtered, “I got you!” You grabbed his wrist and moved his hand to your clothed cunt.  

“Prove it.” 

He started slowly, the pads of his fingers circling your clit through your panties. His lips attached to the sensitive skin below your ear.  He kissed the skin slowly, letting his teeth graze your neck every so often.  He hooked his thumbs under your underwear and pulled them off gingerly, letting them flutter to the floor.  

He ran his fingers through your folds, savoring the wetness there just for him.  Experimentally he slipped a finger inside, earning him an arch of your back and a sound so delicious it could be the only thing he heard for the rest of his life and he would be happy.  

“C’mere,” he grunted, his voice deeper than you had ever heard it.  He moved you to the edge of the counter and inserted a second finger.  You couldn’t help but rock your hips against his ruminations.  He reached that delicious spot inside of you and you felt yourself hurtling off the cliff.  “You talk a big game, but you’re so desperate for me.” Seokmin snaked his free hand over his cock, teasing himself as he finger fucked you into an orgasm.  

Once you came back to Earth he slowly removed his fingers.  Before he had the chance to wash them off, you took his hand and guided his fingers into your mouth.  He watched with wonder as your tongue swirled around his digits, cleaning them.  You pulled them out, a string of saliva connecting you to him.  

“Who’s desperate now?” You breathed watching him continue to tease himself over his briefs.  

“Can I please fuck you?” He whined.  You helped him out of his briefs, you watched his cock spring free, the tip red and angry.  You leaned down and thumbed his leaking slit, earning you a delicious moan.  You spread the mess down his shaft.  

He opened the condom with his teeth, you watched as he rolled it down.  He pulled you to the edge of the counter again and lined himself up with your entrance.  He pushed himself inside of you slowly, allowing you time to adjust.  The stretch was delicious.  He slowly began to thrust, whining in the process.  

“You’re so warm,” he cried.  You felt every inch of him as he slid in and out of you. His hands anchored you to the countertop as you draped your arms across his back.  Seokmin found his rhythm once you wrapped your legs around his waist, he felt so surrounded by you.  He swore he could live with you wrapped around him for the rest of his life.  

“Why didn’t you fuck me in the restaurant?” You breathed.  His hips stuttered for a moment.  

“In public?” He bit his lip.  

“Yeah?” You swiped a hand through his hair and gave it a tug.  He moaned into the crook of your neck.  

“I uh-” He whined, “I didn’t think-I don’t know?” “Oh you really can’t think when your dick’s busy, huh?”  He whined into your neck again, the vibrations and the warm air fanning against your skin left goosebumps behind. Seokmin’s hands trailed down from your hips to your thighs and he began to knead your soft skin with his nimble fingers.  

You leaned your head back, enjoying the feeling of him all over you, inside of you.  With better access to you he experimentally captured your skin between his teeth.  Your sounds spurred him on and encouraged him to begin sucking and biting a bruise into your skin.  With this your hips bucked up to meet his thrusts.  

The idea of being marked by Seokmin would have appalled you just a few weeks ago, but now you couldn’t bring yourself to hate the idea of people knowing you have had him like this.  Like that stupid waitress.  “She wanted you.” You muttered between moans.  

“What?” Seokmin breathed into your skin.  

“That waitress, she wanted you.” 

“Oh well.” Seokmin bit you again.  He was marking you, even after you told him that another woman wanted him like this.  The coil in your stomach threatened to snap at that alone.  You could envision yourself falling off the edge soon.  Seokmin was still massaging the underside of your thighs, pinning your legs around his waist.  Suddenly everything was overwhelming, everything was him.  You felt like fireworks were setting off inside you.  He continued rolling his hips into you through your orgasm.  Shortly after he was releasing into the condom, moans rattled your throat the entire time.

He pulled back to look at you, his eyelids were heavy over his eyes, his lips puffy.  Before either of you had the chance to say anything the oven beeped.  Seokmin’s eyes grew wide, both of you obviously forgot about the pizza.  

“Get your dick out of me and turn that off!” You laughed.  He nodded and slowly pulled out of you.  You watched him slap the off button on the oven, trying not to laugh at him being naked from the waist down.  

Once both of you were cleaned up and clothed, Seokmin cut the pizza and put it on plates.  You were waiting on his couch, dressed head to toe in his clothes.  To him you looked like a dream.  

“Stay the night.” He handed you your plate and sat down next to you.  

“No.” You stated simply, picking up a piece of pizza.  After several seconds of silence you looked up at him, he was looking at you dumbfounded.  “We have work tomorrow.” 

“I’ll drive you!” 

“And walk past Jeongyeon after showing up with you and smelling like sex? No thanks.” 

“You can shower here, I’ll even walk in ten minutes later, please?” He looked like a puppy again.  

“I don’t have my work clothes, and no yours won’t fit me.” You gestured towards his clothes that were far too big on you.  

“There’s extras, you know that.” 

“Fine…” You wouldn’t mind showering in a nice apartment for a change. “You walk in fifteen minutes after me, and you shower with me.” “You have a deal!”               

Finals week was upon you.  The only week out of the year that work came second to school, you were so close to graduation you just had to make it through a week of practical exams.  You were confident in your ability to pass but your mind was elsewhere most of the time.  

You wondered how the kitchen was fairing without you, how Seokmin was doing without you.  As much as you hated to admit it, he did know what he was doing, but being absent was eating at you.  You flipped through the pages of your textbook without reading a single word wishing you could pick up your phone and hear about the days you’ve missed.  

Across town Seokmin was doing just about as well, he knew your name wasn’t on the schedule and he was dying to know where you were.  He was chopping carrots to have for dinner service when he decided to go straight to your apartment tonight.  He didn’t care if he had to get on his knees and beg the woman at the desk to tell him your apartment number.  

He all but sprinted out to his car once the kitchen was clean for the following day.  He parked on the curb in front of the building after the short drive.  He practiced what he was going to say to the woman at the desk on his way into the lobby.  He took a deep breath and approached her.  

“Can I help you?” 

“I’m looking for Y/F/N Y/L/N!” He blurted.  “She hasn’t been to work in a few days, she isn’t scheduled but she didn’t tell me she wouldn’t be here and I wanted to make sure I didn’t do anything wrong and I–” The woman was laughing.  Sure he went off script, but how would she know? He looked at her, confused.  

“She doesn’t live here.” Now he wasn’t expecting that.  

“What?” 

“I told her this would happen eventually, somebody would come looking for her and I would have to be the one to break it to them.” She sighed.  

“She just…lies to people?” 

“Yeah all the time.” She began digging in her desk for something.  “You said you worked with her?” “Yeah, I dropped her off here after work once…so I just thought..” Seokmin rubbed the back of his neck with his hand.  

“Oh you’re the one she was weird about!” “What?” “What? Nothing.” She began scribbling something on a slip of paper. “Here, this is her address, tell her Jane sent you.”  She handed him the paper and two lollipops.  

—-

A cautious knock rang through your apartment, which was confusing considering no one knew where you lived.  You unfolded yourself from the couch and padded to the door.  Seokmin was standing in the hallway and you almost slammed the door in his face.  

“What are you doing here?” You almost shrieked.  He held up two lollipops silently.  “Fuck, okay, uh…come in.” You stepped to the side allowing him entrance.  He shuffled past you, seeing another person standing in your tiny apartment was odd to say the least.  

“Hi,” Seokmin offered quietly while you were intently staring at the ground.  “It’s nice to see you.”

“I’m sorry my apartment is gross and cluttered and small.”  You muttered.  Seokmin looked around the apartment.  The cookbooks in the kitchen were piled almost as high as the refrigerator, the pink throw blanket on the couch made him smile, seeing a softness that no one else gets to see.  The living room was bathed in lamp light that made the shadows in the room look exaggerated and long.  The apartment was uniquely you and he loved it.  

“What?” He chuckled, “I don’t care what your apartment looks like, is this why you lied?” Your head snapped up at him calling you out so directly.  

“I never lied, I told you to drop me off there, not that I lived there.” You pointed out.  He gave you a look.  “I didn’t lie.”   

“Sure, maybe not,” he sighed.  

“I’m sorry,” You whispered, Seokmin had never seen you at a loss for words like this.  

“Look,” he took your hand, “that’s not why I’m here, it doesn’t matter.” You led him to the couch, moving the open textbook so that he could sit down.  Seeing him sitting on your couch was strange, seeing him here was not something you thought you would ever see.  “Are you okay?” He blurted out.  

“What?” You were taken aback, “of course, I’m fine.”

“You just haven’t been to work in a few days and after…the activities at my apartment I thought maybe you hated me, and–” “Woah!” You smiled, “why would I hate you? Seokmin, I took the week off to focus on finals week.”

“Oh.” He looked at you sheepishly. “Uh, well, how are they going?” You rolled your eyes.  

“Fine, I’ll pass, I miss work though.” You shrugged.  

“Just work?” “No, I miss the way Soonyoung runs out of the kitchen when he sees me.”

“Oh…” He dropped his gaze dejectedly.  ���Hey!” He exclaimed as your fist connected with his arm.  

“I miss you, dumb ass.” “So you didn’t quit?” “No,” you looked at him, confused.  “You know you could have asked literally anyone where I was, right?”

“No one was talking about it! I thought we were all super sad about you quitting! I don’t know!” He gestured wildly with his hands.  “And…ugh, okay, you remember that one day like a month ago? When you were asleep in the dining room and I woke you up?”

“Yeah?” “I, uh, I saw what you were working on…the job applications.” He lowered his volume as if he was afraid you would explode.  “I thought you might’ve just up and left, you never liked me anyway, so you didn’t really have any reason to let me know.” 

“Oh,” you sighed.  “I’m sorry…” “Tell me you’ve changed your mind, you’re not leaving us.” “Seokmin….” 

“Is it because of me?”

“Maybe at first,” You started, you could see the tears well up in his eyes. “But now…if anything you’ve made it harder to leave.” 

“Where are you going?” He met your eyes again.  You reached out to swipe the tears that managed to escape.  

“I have a few offers, I don’t know yet.” 

“Of course you do,” he laughed sadly, took hold of your wrists,and rubbed the back of your hands with his thumbs.  “You’re so talented any restaurant would be stupid to not offer you a job.” 

“That’s not what you said a few months ago.” You pointed out. 

“Well, you know how to julienne the carrots now.” 

“Hey!” You tried to push him away but he held you in place.  He glanced at your lips before leaning in to kiss you.  He kissed you softly, his lips tasted vaguely of salt and honey chapstick.  He let himself linger without deepening the kiss until he suddenly pulled back, looking panicked.  

“Those offers are for sous chef positions right?” 

“Of course they are, watch out, Chef Lee.”    

Three years later

You stretch out on your couch after making the most of your day off.  With your recent promotion to head chef at Diamond you haven’t had a lot of time to relax.  With your new hectic schedule you were shocked that you were able to make it the entire day without getting a single call about the restaurant.  

A hand squeezed your calf gently.  You hummed at the contact.  

“I’ll make dinner tonight, love.” Seokmin mumbled sleepily from the other end of the couch.  

“No.” You stated simply.  

“Um, why not?” 

“‘The only thing worse than the tacky decor at Quartz and Serenity is the incompetence of the kitchen. If you’re looking for the exact opposite of what you asked for, this is the restaurant for you.’” You rattled off.  

“What are you doing?” Seokmin sat up, knocking your legs off the couch. 

“‘I would give them zero stars if I could!’” You stared at him, “‘I ordered a steak and it came out barely cooked at all! Will not be returning!’”

“Okay! In my defense on that one, she ordered a well done steak!” He threw his hands up.  “Who does that?” 

“MichelleJo1965, obviously.” You deadpanned.  

“When did you have time to dig through our Yelp reviews?” Seokmin scoffed, “I didn’t realize dating the competition meant I would have to defend myself at home.” 

“Step up your game, Head Chef Lee.” You shrugged.  “But seriously? She ordered a well done steak?” 

“She did! It’s not my fault she has no taste.” He shrugged.  “By the way I have plenty of great reviews, and I seem to remember my girlfriend really liking my cooking.” “You’re alright, I guess.” You shrugged.  “When are you going to ask me by the way?” 

“What?” He tried to stay calm, you could be talking about anything, certainly not the ring that has been staring at him from under his underwear for the last six months.  

“You really need to figure out where to hide things where I won’t find them” Wordlessly Seokmin got up from the couch and stomped into your shared bedroom.  For a split second you thought you might have pushed too far until he returned with the small velvet box.  

“I hope you at least left me one secret, you didn’t look at it did you?” He smiled sheepishly.  

“No, Min, I have no idea what it looks like, swear.” 

“Good,” to your surprise he sank down to one knee, right there in the living room. “You never were good at leaving well enough alone, I had a grander plan, but this seems much more our speed, huh?” You laughed.  “Will you marry me, even if my Yelp reviews suck sometimes?” He popped the small box open to reveal a ring.  

“Of course I will, you idiot.”   

[lowkeyrobin]

Heyyy hope you’re having a wonderful day! I wanted to request a Sparrow Ben Hargreeves one shot where like Y/N is oblivious to his feelings while he’s trying to drop hints?? (but failing because something always happens)

If not that’s totally fine!!! No pressure :3

oooo okay okay I can definitely try!! ; thanks for requesting, hope you enjoy 🫶 ; alsonsorry this is so bad idk y I flopped on this 😔

SPARROW! BEN ; damnit

summary ; ben's always being cockblocked

warnings ; language, mentions of alcohol

disclaimers ; takes place post s3 - pre s4

word count ; 881

masterlist

You stand in the kitchen with Luther, making dinner with him for the family. Everyone, aka the Hargreeves and Lila plus their kids, had come over for a little reunion for their birthday. You weren't a Hargreeves, nor did you have powers, but they were your only friends, and they each saved your life at least once.

Ben approaches, leaning on the counter where you chop up some green onions, a pot and pan on the stove behind you.

"Hey" He smiles. "Whatcha up to?"

You shrug. "Chopping up some onions. What's up?"

"Nothing, really. Allison picked out a really dumb movie to watch and I can't stand it anymore" He answers.

You'd tuned out the family in the living room just a few feet away, focused on your meal prepping / creating. You look up at the TV, seeing the family sprawled around the furniture, kids playing with toys on the floor.

"Ben, stop, this movie is so good" You reply, turning back to your cutting board.

"It's some cheesey Hallmark movie?"

"Hush"

The two of you are silent for a moment before he speaks again.

"Your hair looks really nice today-"

"Fuck!"

The siblings quickly shoot up from their spots, Ben jumping a bit as you rush to the stove.

You'd accidently lit the chicken on fire. Somehow.

You quickly slam a lid over the pan of chicken, not wanting to fuel the grease fire any more than you had. You quickly shut off the burner, slowly looking back at Ben.

"Could you go get me more chicken from the store? I'll give you the money, I just need to look over all this stuff, sorry for asking on your birthday-"

"Yeah, sure!" He quickly replies. "Anything for you"

"Hey, Y/n" Ben smiles, "I brought you flowers"

"Awe, thank you!" You reply, accepting the gift as he enters your home.

"I kinda wanted to talk to you about something-"

Your phone rings, the number being the one of your workplace. You grab it, looking to him before accepting the call.

"I gotta take this really quick, sorry"

He nods, watching you trail into the other room, flowers still in hand. He stands by the door, unknowing of what to do in the moment. He soaks up his own silence, listening to your unintelligible speech behind the walls.

You return swiftly, a sorry expression on your face.

"I'm so sorry, Ben, I need to go in, it's urgent. Uhm, we'll talk later, yeah?"

"Uh, yeah, sorry. Be safe"

As he quickly exits your home, he mutters to himself.

"Damnit"

"I dunno, maybe I'm crazy," you chuckle, picking up another piece of food with your fork.

"I don't think you're crazy." Ben shrugs. "I think you're overworked and tired"

You both sit in a booth at a restaurant, a bright light shining over the table, warm food on your plates. You were eating out because you both didn't want to cook dinner at home tonight. Being alone sucked for both of you. If only you both had the balls to talk to each other.

But that's your problem, you oblivious fuck.

You shrug at his response. "I dunno, I think being alone, living alone, is slowly driving me insane."

"I mean, you could live with me," He mumbles, picking at his food.

"Hm?" You hum, having not heard him.

"Oh, nothing"

"...You sure?"

"Yeah"

The silence blankets you once more as you listen to the nearby commotion. The other families eating, the bustling workers, the music over the speakers.

You listened to everything but him, didn't you?

Today was the day. Ben was going to ask you out and he was not going to let himself or anything else get in his way.

Well, maybe red wine ruining his shirt would.

Why did he decide to take you to a bar in the first place is what we're all wondering. It didn't take much for him to get at least buzzed, which was his current state.

You decided to walk him back home, not wanting him to walk in the dark all by his lonesome. The walk is quiet, considering his slightly bruised ego. Jesus, he'd never get the chance to ask you at this point.

He slumps onto his bed as you lead him into his home, yelling into his mattress. You stand behind him, silent, finding this normal, because it was.

"What're you mad about now?" You sigh, throwing a pair of pajamas on him which you'd gotten from his dresser.

"I wanted to ask you out, and I have for a while, and every time I try it gets fucking ruined!" He slurs, yelling into his mattress once more.

You blink, confused. "What?"

"I like you, Y/n, Jesus," He groans, rolling over to look at you.

"Oh"

"'Oh' what?"

"I didn't realize" You shrug.

"I know. That's why I was trying to hint at it and even tell you, but you're oblivious, and things always have to go sideways at the wrong time," Ben speaks.

"I mean, I'd go out with you"

He raises an eyebrow. "Actually?"

"Yeah" You shrug. "Why not?"

"Oh my God, that took the biggest weight off my shoulders." He rolls off the bed on accident, landing on the floor.

You laugh.

"Damnit"

[theowlburrow]

Grease fire 🔥

PSA: Do NOT attempt to put out a grease fire with water! Water on a grease fire can cause an explosion. Instead, turn off the stove immediately and smother the fire with a metal pot lid, metal pan or cookie sheet. It cannot survive without oxygen and will soon burn itself out. If it is a very small grease fire and no metal lid is available, baking soda can also smother the fire. If the fire grows too large to smother, leave the house immediately and dial 911! Don't be like Vap! Be a smart cookie and stay safe! 

[fanfics-i-find-here]

Do I Know You? Part 4

Jason Todd X Reader

Synopsis: A dinner is shared.

Notes: I think I’ve gotten lost in the sauce of POV’s. This kind of bounces between both of them. I also thought the last chapter’s events would add drama to this chapter. It did not but I think it will on the next one. Please enjoy!

Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 5, Part 6, Part 7, Part 8, Masterlist

For the first time in two weeks, you don’t see Red Hood. Not a shadow, not a peep. You're a little disgruntled about it. He “stalks” you for two weeks and then finally comes into your apartment and speaks to you and then just vanishes. What’s that about? You hadn’t taken him for the shy type but maybe that was it. Or he was truly just monitoring you after Scarecrow to see if anything was wrong and finally talking to you proved that there wasn’t. All the options swirled around your head as you cleaned your kitchen the next day. You were mostly peeved because you had made a bigger dinner than you usually do so you had more to offer than just tea when he showed up. Now you were going to be eating the same leftovers for days. Great.

You were so lost in your thoughts and focused on your frustrated scrubbing of the stove that you didn’t hear the quiet thud on your fire escape nor the tell-tell squeak of your window opening. For someone who had recently been kidnapped, you weren’t very observant. At least that’s what Jason thought as he stepped close to the kitchen, watching you over the island as you mutter and scrub harder at the stove.  Clearly, you hadn’t been expecting company. You wore a baggy t-shirt and a pair of ratty basketball shorts, hair clipped up and away from your face. You hadn’t worked today, and he knew because he had gone to see you. Instead, he got sucked into a conversation with the older woman that worked there. Some gossip about the couple that was sitting in a corner booth. He didn’t stay for long.

You sigh at the forever permanent grease stain on your stove. You move sideways, still not turning around to rinse and squeeze water from the sponge you were using. You finally turn around to collect a rag from the small island and let out a screech, “What the -?!” you stumble back and hit your lower back on the counter. Your hand moves faster than your brain, grasping the sponge from the counter and chucking it at him. Your aim? Not so great. The sponge soars across the island and barely hits his shoulder. Your brain finally catches up as it watches the sponge. Brown leather, red bat, red helmet.

“Red Hood.” The relief seeps out in your voice as your whole body relaxes. To Jason’s credit, he doesn’t outwardly laugh, resisting the urge, not wanting to embarrass you. He wants to laugh, oh, does he want to. Between your squawking and terrible throw, he was very entertained.

“You’re a terrible shot” his modulated voice again throwing you off. Despite the robotic voice, you can hear the humor behind it.

“I never claim to be an athlete,” you will your fingers to let go of the countertop, “You’re here.”

It takes Jason a moment as he hears the surprise in your voice and still present on your face, considering you had invited him in two days ago. He worries that maybe he overstepped, should have knocked on the window instead of just coming in. A silence lingers between you two, so you add on.

“I thought you weren’t coming back.” You say and cringe. Your abandonment issues really knew when to peek out. He was gone one day, not a week or a month but you got used to seeing that red outside your window. It was a comfort knowing someone was watching over you. Jason resists the urge to say I’ll always come back to you. It might be a little too forward all things considered.

“Sorry for making you worry.”  He finally speaks up and brings his hands up to pop the latch on his helmet sliding it off his head and setting it on the counter. You stare, how could you not? He must have been moving quite a bit, his black hair wet with sweat and his face shining. You bring a hand up to stifle a laugh at the domino mask. Despite knowing it would be there, you still think it’s hilarious that he wears two masks. Jason takes in your hidden grin and wills himself to be normal about it.

“I'm trying to apologize and you're gigging about it.” A smirk growing on his lips

You drop your hand and neutralize your face, “I'm not, it's just…” you gesture to his face, “Your mask” you say timidly. He knows exactly what you're talking about. You had laughed about it before, but he can't understand why you think it's so funny, he's just protecting his identity.

“Okay,” he says, placating you. You roll your eyes and shrug as you turn towards your fridge. Maybe you can get rid of leftovers after all.

“Want something to eat?” You ask as you struggle to pull the containers out of the fridge. The way you offer so easily makes Jason’s heart jump. You were awfully trusting.

“Sure”

“You’re not allergic to anything are you?” you ask pausing before you put the dish into the microwave.

“No”

You shove the container into the microwave and set it. Instead of turning around, you stare at the dish spinning in the microwave. You really are losing it. You invite him in for tea, and then you’re sad when he doesn’t show up for the dinner you made (not that you would tell him that). Now you're not even too startled that he had come in through your locked window. His voice pulls you from your thoughts.

“Busy day at work?” he asks mostly because he doesn’t want to seem like an actual stalker stalker, even though he already knew you didn’t work.

You glance at him over your shoulder, “Oh I didn’t work today. Hence my cleaning” You move your hand to show off your clean home. And your home was clean but normally you wouldn’t have done it all in one day. It had given you something to do while you overthought instead of sitting and staring at a wall to overthinking.

“Looks nice,” he says as the microwave pings. You nod, pull the Tupperware from the microwave, and set it on the island between you two. You turn to grab two clean plates, silverware, and a serving spoon and set them on the counter.

“Please eat,” you say as you gesture to the food. Noting the two plates, Jason shakes his head.

“Ladies first.” You’re pleasantly surprised at his chivalry. You tilt your head back and forth as you contemplate whether you should argue that he’s the guest and he should go first. You look him over for a moment and decide he probably wouldn’t let up on the matter. You quietly dish up a small portion having technically already eaten dinner but not wanting him to eat alone. You set your plate and silverware at the small dining room table and go to the fridge to collect two water bottles (you learned very quickly not to drink tap water when you first moved to Gotham). By the time you return to the table, Red Hood sits in the same spot he sat in two nights before. He waits for you to sit and thanks you when you set the water bottle down, before finally eating.

He seemed starved if you were honest, although running around beating up criminals probably works up quite the appetite. You pick at your own food, eating a few bites here and there. As he’s distracted you stare again. That weird aching familiarity flairs up again but you choose to ignore it. You stare at the mask covering his eyes and wonder what color they are. Your eyes trail down his face at those scars and you push your thoughts about them away. It's Gotham, everyone’s got a scar or a few, mental or otherwise. But your eyes follow the scar on his cheek to his lips as he drinks water from the bottle. You’re momentarily stuck staring at his lips as he pulls the bottle away, they move, and his voice follows.

“Your staring,” he says smugly. You quickly drop your gaze to your food and take a bite, like that would hide the warmth on your cheeks. You don’t know why you get so distracted and flustered around him. Pull yourself together.

“Busy night?” You change the subject and offer the same question he asked you earlier. You look back up to meet his mask again. His skin was no longer wet with sweat, but his hair was still a little damp and sticking up in weird positions. You think you see a glimmer of white on his roots at the crown of his head. You wonder if he would mind if you just brushed your hand through… no, you’re supposed to be pulling yourself together.

“Just a few muggers and a robbery.” He says it like it’s whatever, happens every day. And in Gotham it couldn’t be truer. But he carried no pride in it, like it was just a job and that was it.

“Just?” You ask, you attempt a tease, but it comes out warbled by an emotion you’re not sure about.

He nods, “Just. I’m sure there will be plenty more before the nights over.”

You decide he sounds tired like he is carrying the weight of Gotham on his back, even though you know there are about a million other vigilantes in the city.

“Well, it’s a good thing you’re out there then. I know I’m grateful.” You try to push a prideful tone into your sentence, hoping that it would transfer to him. So he knew what he did was important. He doesn’t say anything, just nods curtly before scooping up the last of his food and sliding it into his mouth. He quietly chews and you try not to stare again. A weird tension settles over you, and you hope it’s not entirely your fault.

He stands with his plate and deposits it in the sink rinsing it off. You still pick at the food on your plate when he comes up behind you. For such a large man he’s quite quiet but you can feel the hairs on the back of your neck rise at his presence.

“I should head out if I'm really supposed to be out there,” he says quietly. You want to turn but you're worried about how close he is, so you just nod.

“Right, of course.” You hesitate before you murmur, “Thank you for coming back.”

It's so quiet Jason almost misses it. He doesn’t wait for you to turn around, nodding even though you can't see it as he turns to pick up his helmet. You finally stand from your seat to watch him, hand gripping the back of the chair. He slides his helmet on and with one foot at the window, he turns to you.

“I'm getting you new window locks. These are awful.” He’s out the window and gone as you say, “What?”

You still don’t move where you stand for a moment before you start cleaning up the leftovers. You slide what you didn’t eat back into the Tupperware dish, put the lid on and place it back in the fridge. You finally come back over to the window, sticking your head out and glancing around as if you would see him hiding somewhere. You lean back in closing the window and locking it. You stare at the locks. They don’t look awful, but they were also locked before he got in so maybe he was right. You glance around your apartment. Nothing to do, nothing to clean. You decide to take a shower and then sleep. Maybe you can figure out how you're supposed to act around a gun-toting vigilante in the meantime.

Once Jason had made it out of your apartment and to his usual spot on the roof across the street, he sat down and just breathed. You were something else. You definitely had no survival instinct, at least when it came to him. And the locks on your windows? Don’t even get him started. Hed start there and then a new door lock as well as a security system. Eventually. Yeah, eventually. If you let him stick around that long.

His heart ached in a way he wasn’t used to. You had expressed such surety in your statement about his nightly job. That it was a good thing. It was rare that people were outwardly grateful. And for him, saving people happened every day. His own emotions had almost gotten out of hand, resting like a rock in his throat, knowing how you felt.

And despite your staring and anxious picking at your food, there was a weird sense of…domesticity to the night. Something he only got when he would help Alfred in the kitchen and on some “Movie night” one of his siblings requested. Which is to say far and few between. He took off his helmet and set it down beside him. He peeks over the ledge of the roof to glance at you sticking your head out of your window. You were pretty despite your disheveled state and he's happy to know that you weren’t too flustered about looking a mess around him. Although to be fair you had looked much, much worse when he saved you from Scarecrow.

He did hope you'd let him keep coming around, eating your food and drinking your tea. Cass was right though. He needed to get you first. The issue lay in which persona should he get you in. Jason Todd or Red Hood. He’d have to stress about it later as you finally close and lock your window. The sound of sirens wail in the distance. Back to work, it was.

Additional note: So fun fact, I desperately wanted to include Jason's white streak of hair but had to Veto it because a person can only be oblivious to a certain point and would instantly match these two people up. However, I saw someone had a Headcanon (and I don’t remember who) that Jason had the white streak but dyed due to the identity issue. I loved the idea so much that I just had to include it. Jason’s white streak may or may not come up in conversation later. We’ll have to wait and see. Again, thank you for reading!

Tag List: @little-miss-naill, @nikilolo787, @joonunivrs, @uzxotic, @qardasngan, @stormz369, @g4bbi3xx 

[mistyorchid]

Breakfast For Dinner

Old Man!Logan x fem!reader

warnings: MDNI, no use of y/n, established relationship, love makes logan sappy + corny, age gap, reader is 21+, some suggestive actions/dialogue, logan calls himself old man, pet names (bub, baby, princess). wc: 730

an: I love the sweet housewife/partner fics but this is for the girlies that can't cook. aka me

Logan scrunches his nose. He picks up the familiar scent that tangled in the sheets you shared and lingered in the living room, where he reads the morning paper.

Another sharp inhale sends notes of bacon and burnt flour into his adept nostrils. His back aches after the hellish shift he endured, but the alarming thought of a grease fire destroying the home you share propels his body forward.

He senses your panic the second he steps inside the door. The chemical calling cards of fear—pheromones released from sweat—trigger a hollow throbbing in Logan's heart. His claws sink back into the tender flesh between his knuckles when he realizes you're not in immediate danger.

Your lame attempt to hide the charred remains of the dish forces an embarrassed laugh to tumble from your chest in short bursts. Hands on your hips, flour on every kitchen surface, including you. It was a stupidly endearing sight.

Logan loosens his tie, pulling open the collar of his dress shirt. He sighs, content with how beautifully mundane life has become. "Hey, bub. What's cookin'?" He asks with a teasing quirk of his brow.

He walks towards the kitchen island, slowly taking up more space until all you can feel are the hard plastic stove top knobs digging into your lower back.

You indulge in the broad plane of his chest, pulling Logan in by the front of his dress shirt. "I missed you," You admit, sighing as you run your hands over the garment.

A sly grin spreads across Logan's face. "Yeah? Enough to make me—?" His eyebrow quirks, questioning what culinary treat was filling the kitchen with smoke.

"It's supposed to be a quiche. Figured you'd be hungry after your shift. . . sorry it's burnt." You're suddenly captivated by a crack in the concrete floor. Insecurity seeps into your brain, unraveling the work you put into fostering your independence.

A gentle caress on your cheek disrupts your negative thoughts. Logan's voice is firm, yet tender. "Stop that. I know what you're thinkin'."

Shit. He could always see right through your bullshit. It was tough indulging in self-deprecation when you had the world's most menacingly protective man for a partner.

You find your way back to Logan's eyes. You always do.

"Nothin' to be sorry about, baby. I don't expect you to make me anything, you know that." You can feel the pleasant hum that ricochets against his chest, inviting you deeper into his embrace.

"Hey, wanna ask you somethin'." Your lashes flutter against your cheeks. Logan's mouth stretches into a subtle grin.

"Can I get a quiche?" He quips, indulging in the way your nose twitches and the corners of your eyes crease with crow's feet.

A lighthearted laugh bubbles within you. "Did you just make a joke? You? The Wolverine?"

"Mhm. Anything to see that sweet smile on your face," He admits. A soft sigh leaves your mouth as you kiss Logan's; the feeling of him physically showing you how much you were missed while he was at work makes you dizzy with love.

He pulls back slightly before swiftly untying the dirty apron from your neck and waist, fastening it around himself.

Logan then forces himself to pull away from your body, allowing you to move off the range. He notices you soothing the sore indents on your back and orders you to rest on the couch.

"You look so pretty waitin' on me, princess. Let your old man cook dinner, and then we can have dessert."

He busies himself with slicing ingredients using his claws, feeling satisfied when he hears the sound of a horror movie playing in the adjacent living room.

An abrupt pause in the film causes Logan's ears to perk up. "Oh, we're out of ice cream!" You shout, worried about yet another error on your part. You fantasized about taking care of him, about embodying a picture-perfect role as his partner.

You could never be a Stepford Wife.

You start toying with the hem of your shirt as the silence that lingered after your confession seemed to stretch forever. Logan whips his head away from the kitchen island, promptly sheathing his claws.

A wicked smirk spreads across his face. "Not exactly the kind o' cream I was thinkin' of, baby."

taglist: @pointyxsole @th3mrskory @fairiebabey @bratscave @elflutter @scorpiosaintt

[nina-ya]

Synopsis: Kid's attempt to cook nearly leaves the ship in flames, and you are there to save the day. Pairing: Eustass Kid x reader CW: None, Fluff • ficmas masterlist • ko-fi • discord server •

The acrid stench of smoke tickled your nose before you even stepped in the hallway, your senses immediately going on high alert. The curls of gray wafted from the direction of the kitchen, curling like ominous fingers into the still air of the ship. You quickened your pace as you followed the trail, your mind running through a checklist of potential culprits. When you rounded the corner, your suspicions crystallized into reality: smoke billowed from the kitchen, cascading in heavy waves from the open doorway. 

Coughing and waving a hand in front of your face, you stormed in, greeted by the sight of Kid’s hulking frame hunched over the stove, the flames beneath the pan leaping higher than they had any right to. The pot on the burner was a charred ruin, its contents indiscernable beneath a layer of blackened ash. He swatted at the fire like it had personally insulted him, cursing under his breath. 

“Kid,” you rasped through the thick smoke, your eyes watering. “What the hell is going on in here?”

He shot you a quick glare, his crimson eyes flooded with irritation as he grabbed a towel to smother the flames. The fire sputtered out reluctantly, leaving behind a smoky, scorched mess that could hardly be called food. 

“I don’t think you’re supposed to burn that,” you quipped, leaning against the doorway and watching as he slung the ruined pot into the sink with a clang. 

“Gee, thanks,” he snapped, the sarcasm dripping from his tone as he turned to face you. His hair caught the light of the remaining embers, giving him an almost feral appearance. “Real helpful.”

You crossed your arms and raised an eyebrow, your lips twitching into a smirk despite the seriousness of the situation. “What exactly was that supposed to be?”

Kis grumbled something incoherent, rubbing the back of his hand with a grease-streaked hand. HIs pride was clearly taking a hit, but there was no hiding the evidence. The entire kitchen looked like it had been through a war-- spices scattered across the counters, utensils abandoned mid-use, and the faint char marks on the wooden counters suggesting that this wasn't his first attempt. 

“It was supposed to be dinner,” he admitted grudgingly, voice a low rumble. “For you.” 

The confession caught you off guard, since the idea of him voluntarily stepping into the kitchen for anyone's sake was laughable. But it was for you. And your heart softened despite the smirk you were attempting to suppress. 

“Well, I’m flattered,” you said, stepping further into the chaos and surveying the damage. “But I think we have just reinforced that cooking isn’t one of your strong suits.”

He bristled, his jaw tightening as he crossed his arms. “I could’ve handled it,” he shot back defensively. “It wasn’t my fault. I turned my back for one second, and the damn thing caught fire!”

Your laugh escaped before you could stop it, the sound only seemed to rile him up further. “You almost burned the ship down. Whatever that was, you need some sort of divine intervention to help.”

His eyes narrowed, the sharp lines of his face hardening in response. “I don’t need any help,” he growled. “I can fix it.”

“Fix it?” you repeated, gesturing to the blackened mess in the sink. “There’s nothing left to fix! Let me help you before you turn this kitchen into a pile of ashes.”

He hesitated, his pride warring with common sense. The stubborn set of his jaw suggested he was ready to argue, but then a tiny trail of smoke puffed up from the pot as it moved him. Finally, he relented with a muttered curse, stepping aside just enough to allow you to approach the stove. 

“Fine,” he grumbled, his voice low and begrudging. “But don’t think I can't cook because of this!”

You rolled your eyes, grabbing an apron from the hook and tying it around your waist. “Yeah, yeah,” you said lightly, shooting him a teasing smile. “Let’s just hope that this time, we won’t need a fire extinguisher.”

[hometoursandotherstuff]

The first thing you notice about this home is how posts appear to prop the upper sections up at a tilt. The 2002 contemporary home in Vershire, VT is perfect for the art lover. It's not old as far as houses go, but the 4bd, 3ba home needs some TLC and a good cleaning. They're asking $499K, and you get 14 acres of property.

What a lovely entrance.

These glass doors open directly into the living room. 2 steps and a stone structure to the right are the first things you see. You may know by now how I feel about glass doors- they give me the heebie jeebies.

There's a large rounded sofa that's built-in and next to it is a wood burning stove. It's not a very big living room, but it's a cozy sitting area.

To the left of the living room there's more seating and built-in sculpted tables made to look like trees. Two more stairs come up to the dining area and kitchen. Look at the bar in the curved blue shelving on the right.

The kitchen is colorful and cute. Look at the wall of storage. Are you seeing what I mean about a good cleaning? I think that's grease on the ceiling.

There is also a half bathroom with a bit of a dizzying array of mirrors and mosaics on the walls. The blue sink vanity is also interesting.

Coming in this back door, there's a foyer set up as a mudroom.

A full bath on the main floor has an industrial kitchen drainboard sink, a shower, and a tub. The tub has a great window for watching the kids or chatting with the neighbors. And, there's also a pantry or storage area behind this room.

Whimsical stairs with artsy sculpted railings and just look at that little hobbit door.

The floors look like stained cement and the walls in this large primary bedroom have some bamboo with orange accents.

This spacious bedroom is currently empty.

This bedroom is a nice size and looks like it opens to a terrace.

Wonderfully colorful bath.

The stairs to the 2nd level and bedrooms actually lead to the pool room first. Look at all the trees and that window on the right.

The pool room has steps to a fun loft.

Look at how cute the loft is.

Looking down.

You can get to the loft this way, too.

And, here is a wonderful art studio.

A patio with a fire pit.

The mountain scenery is just stunning.

And, here's another patio on the other side.

Looking out over the beautiful acreage from the terrace.

Colorful barn with a silly moose head above the entrance.

The road to the property.

https://www.zillow.com/homedetails/148-Private-Road-7-Corinth-VT-05039/304032263_zpid/

[solitaryearthperson]

Monster Prodigy

(The reader is gender-neutral and is 18+. The ethnicity/race is preferably black/person of color.)

Hannibal was a man who usually was able to train his face to show a range of emotions whenever he wanted.

If the situation called for a show of sympathy, he could perfect it to a T. If a situation called for a show of anger, frustration, happiness, he could do them all. But right now, as much as he tried to, he couldn't control the way his lips began to turn up in glee as you prepared the meat for your meal of the night.

"This one, right," you asked, pointing to the cooking grease on the counter. As a person who was extremely experienced in the fine-arts of cooking, he was strict on what exact ingredients to add to the preparation of a meal, including certain brands of cooking oil.

Clearing his throat as nonchalantly as he could, he answered with a neutral "Yes," and watched in admiration as you picked up the bottle and squeezed the right amount of oil into the pan.

After adjusting the fire on the stove, you were about to reach for the meat, when the doctor placed a hand on your shoulder, and you turned to see him with a small grin upon his face. "Have you properly washed it? And your hands?"

"Absolutely," you nodded, happy to have already remembered and followed his directions before he even asked.

"Then proceed, darling," He told you, feeling pride grow in his chest at how good of a student you were.

Trying to ignore the fluttering in your stomach, you picked up the meat and placed it in the pan, watching as the small drips of blood that were still inside began to pour out on the side.

"Now we must begin chopping the vegetables," he said, moving away and picking up a cutting board, placing it on the counter, then moved to the fridge to grab the carrots, onions, and celery.

"How long does it take to properly cook," you asked, mesmerized by the sight of the meat sizzling on the pan.

"Depends," he replied, bringing the veggies over to the counter and placing them on the board. Opening a nearby drawer, he pulled out a knife, carefully inspected its sharpness, then proceeded to chop them all. "Some people have bad hearts, others good. Their diet determines how long it will cook and whether or not, it'll taste good."

Curious, you looked closer at the organ, fascinated by the aorta and pulmonary veins. It had just gotten on the pan, and already the scent of it cooking had your mouth watering.

"Can you tell if this one will be good or not," you questioned, looking back to him. You felt your cheeks become warm as he looked at you with what looked to be fondness.

He paused his chopping to look past you to the pan, watching as the heart was beginning to dark slightly. "It'll be good. I have faith you'll do a good job."

Smiling proudly, you turned back to the meat and watched, fascinated, while Hannibal continued his chopping again, stealing glances at you every now and then. Every glance he made, he felt his cold heart begin to slowly warm.

He knew he finally found his match. His perfect match. My monster. He just needed to teach you a little more so you could reach your full potential.

You'll be his monster prodigy.

[lottiesboy]

mother’s day!!

pairing: cg!agatha harkness x little!masc!reader

summary: you try to make agatha breakfast, but it doesn’t go as planned.

tags: sfw, fluff, age regression, mama!agatha, reader is big in the beginning of the fic but later regresses, mama agatha is so sweeeeeetttt :3

it was mother’s day and you wanted to cook agatha a special breakfast. you got out of bed super early, planning on bringing her breakfast in bed. all you had to do was make pancakes, eggs, bacon, and toast all at the same time.

how bad could it be?

you tried to be a big boy while cooking, not wanting the little boy in you to touch a hot stove. everything was going well so far, until you forgot about the toast. it was extremely burnt. you just shrugged it off and put two new slices in the toaster.

then you forgot about the pancakes. you try to flip them but you realized you forgot to grease the pan before putting the batter down. you groaned frustratingly, tears blurring your vision.

you tried to plate your eggs but they half of it completely missed the plate, splattering on the floor. you whined, starting to cry a little. you thought you could handle making breakfast for you mama, i mean, agatha. you make it all the time!

you didn’t even realize the kitchen was filled with smoke from the bacon and pancakes. and you burnt the toast again! all the smoke made the smoke detector start beeping loudly, making you cover your ears.

agatha came almost running down the stairs in her robe with a scared look on her face, turning on a fan and letting all the smoke blow away. the smoke detector stopped beeping eventually, making agatha talk to you.

“i thought there was a fire! what happened?!” agatha wrapped her robe around her, tying the belt. she sounded angry, which made you start crying again.

“was gonna,” you sniffled. “make breakfast for you, mama. for mama’s day.” you looked back at the kitchen in shame. “but i messed it up.”

agatha pouted, tsking. “oh, baby…. you’re such a sweet little boy. c’mere.” she gave you the biggest hug, adding a kiss on your nose. “you’re so sweet, cooking for mama.”

her cheeks were flushed, thinking it was adorable that you went out of your way to cook for her. your lip quivered, and agatha felt so bad. “ohh… don’t be sad, baby boy. it’s alright!” she smiled, trying to calm you down before you fully bursted into tears.

“bu, was tryna be big!” you rubbed the tears out of your eyes, laying your head on agatha’s shoulder. “oh, i know.” she pouted, bringing you over to the couch and pulling you into her lap. she cradled you, bouncing you on her lap like a little baby.

“i know, bunny. you didn’t have to give mama a gift for mama’s day.”

“why?” you sniffled, looking up at agatha. she smiled, rubbing your back. “because you’re already my gift, silly. you’re the best gift mama’s ever gotten.”

she pinched your cheek a little and you couldn’t help but smile. “dropped egg.” you pointed at the scrambled eggs splattered on the floor, making agatha chuckle a little. “we’ll clean it up, don’t worry. then after that, what if… mama got pancakes delivered to the house instead?” she gasped.

you eyes went wide and you nodded eagerly, making agatha smile. “oh, i love you, silly boy.” she kissed your cheek multiple times.

[runawaymun]

I need to let you guys in on some knowledge ok.

if you want donuts. Buy yourself a tube of biscuit dough and separate it out and use a cookie cutter to cut out the centers (or just tear a hole with your thumb. become ungovernable). Get yourself a good sized pot with about an inch or two of your favorite flavorless oil. Make sure it has a lid (let's not start grease fires).

Heat it up on medium or medium low, depending on how hot your stove is. Then fry yourself some donuts. they are so fluffy it feels like it should be illegal. then roll them in powdered sugar or cinnamon sugar or make yourself a glaze with a bit of milk + powdered sugar + flavoring. you can be responsible and let them cool down or you can do what i did and hoover them straight into my mouth sizzling hot. way too many. im so full of fried bread.

it's like a couple bucks and the cost of feeling like you've seen god. it's so good. you get so many donuts and u can fry the donut holes too. You're unstoppable.