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beomboomboom · 2 months

Text

Recipe for disaster

genre: fluff, established relationship

pairing: Soonyoung x reader

summary: You should've known better than to leave Soonyoung alone in the kitchen to make some pancakes. After all, everyone knows that Soonyoung + kitchen makes a recipe for disaster

warnings: a little bit of a cooking fire

note: This fic has genuinely made me laugh so much, and I hope it'll make you laugh too. Enjoy reading <33

Soonyoung is good at many things, but cooking is definitely not on that list.

In fact, you've learned (the hard way) that if you leave him alone in a kitchen, there's a 50 percent chance something will end up on fire (most of the time it's food, but you swear one day it's going to be your house).

So, when you woke to the sound of clattering coming from the kitchen paired with the empty space next to you on the bed, it was easy to put two and two together.

Hurriedly shuffling out of bed, you make your way to the kitchen where you're met with the sight of a singing Soonyoung clad in your tiger-print apron that he gifted you for Christmas, as he gets out a big bowl from the cabinet.

"Love, what are you doing?" you ask with a tense smile, interrupting your boyfriends' cooking and singing session.

"I'm cooking breakfast for you! Pancakes!" Soonyoung exclaims with a smile. "Surprise!"

You feel your heart melt when you hear Soonyoung's loving intentions, but that fondness quickly turns into fear when you see him beginning to measure the ingredients.

Or to be honest, It shouldn't even count as measuring, it was more like eyeballing.

Eyeballing, but he wasn't really using his eyes.

You watch in horror as he attempts to pour a little bit of salt from the bag into the bowl, but ends up tilting the salt bag a bit too much, causing a huge amount of salt to end up being poured instead.

"Oops." Soonyoung says with a sheepish smile. "It's okay though, I'll just add more of the other ingredients so it'll cancel the salt out." Soonyoung says with a confident smile, assuring you everything is fine.

"You can just take out some of the salt-" you begin to suggest before becoming speechless at the sight of Soonyoung pouring half a bag of flour into the bowl, then squinting and pouring a bit more for good measure.

"Soonyoun-"

"Wait this breakfast needs to be a surprise," Soonyoung interrupts you at the realization as he starts to gently push you out of the kitchen.

"I think I could help you out a little-" you start to protest.

But your boyfriend quickly pushes you back into your room and assures you everything will be alright. "Rest a little more, I'll tell you when things are ready." He says while tucking you back into your bed. "And don't worry, I got this all under control. Nothing will go wrong."

It only took 15 minutes for things to go wrong.

"AHHHH—FIRE!!!"

You jolt up from the bed the second you hear Soonyoung's hysterical scream from the kitchen.

"THERES A FIRE! HOW DO YOU MAKE IT GO AWAY."

Quickly jumping to your feet, you hurriedly make your way to the kitchen. When you reach the kitchen you're met with the sight of a panicked Soonyoung as he frantically tries to fan out the smoke that's coming from the stovetop.

"I was going to the bathroom but then I forgot the stove was still on so I—AHH" Soonyoung begins to explain before yelping at the sight of another bright orange flame appearing.

"No, don't fan the flames you're making it worse," you say with a groan as you quickly run to the sink to wet a cloth and throw it over the flames.

As you and Soonyoung watch the flames slowly subside, you both let out a sigh of relief. Coughing because of all the smoke, you slowly stand up and begin to clean up the mess.

"I'm sorry. I was just trying to make you a nice breakfast and now it's all ruined—" Soonyoung says, the disappointment evident on his face.

"It's okay, you tried your best. Let me help you cook next time though," you say with a reassuring smile as you give Soonyoung a small pat on the shoulder. "How about we order some carry out for breakfast instead?"

"Okay! Let me get my phone," Soonyoung says with an excited smile as he gives you a small peck on your smoke-covered cheeks and runs to his room in search of his phone.

You let out a small laugh before shaking your head. Needless to say, you wouldn't be letting Soonyoung anywhere close to the kitchen anytime soon.

#seventeen fanfic #seventeen fluff #seventeen imagines #seventeen scenarios #seventeen x reader #soonyoung x you #soonyoung fluff #soonyoung imagines #soonyoung x reader #soonyoung scenarios #soonyoung x y/n #hoshi x you #hoshi fanfic #hoshi x reader #hoshi fluff #hoshi x y/n #kwon soonyoung x reader #kwon soonyoung fluff #kwon soonyoung imagines

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aphroditesmoon · 11 months

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hello! i have a request for you, but first i wanted to say i’ve enjoyed reading your wednesday/wenclair works :)

may i please have gn reader x gwen relationship details? like cute things you notice about her, how she shows affection, or anything else you want to include? thank you in advance!

gwen stacy x reader fluff hcs #2

a/n: omgggg tysm for reading my wenclair works🥹 I've found that writing is one of the only ways i could express myself as a queer person in a very hom0phobic country, im glad other people also find enjoyment in them!

warnings: none, fluff.

♤♤♤♤

- she was very awkward having you come yo her band practise at first, at least in the early stages of your relationship.

- she ended up playing badly because she couldn't focus with you around.

- it all gets better when she realizes you can't tell the difference anyways and still tell her you think she did great💀

- cuddling with her is never really a "whos the big spoon" question, she prefers to have her face buried in the crook of your neck, so if she's hugging you from behind, or from the front, it doesn't matter.

- when she's feeling protective of you in some days, she'll definitely have your face planted on her chest, trying to hide your body in her arms.

- bad cook gwen !! 🗣🗣 she can make a neat instant noodle though, take it or leave it.

- you took on to learning how to make simple recipe foods when your started dating her, banana pancakes, a decent omelette, and a good ol' fashion pasta. she really loves how much you love making her food, like it's your love language.

-she has a picture of you in her wallet, from your first date. hobie absolutely destroys her with embarrassment while announcing to everyone that gwendy has a special someone she's hiding

- you two lovw thrifting together, theres a pretty crowded and known city in her universe with lots of tourism spots and cool trinket shops, and yet the two of you will always find yourselves in a thrift shop there, choosing clothes for eachother.

- teaching you to play drums (you lasted a week and gave up, neither of you ever mention it again)

- her first tattoo is on the back of her neck, a lyric from a song in the playlist you made for her.

- you have a spider tattoo on your back too, something to remind you of her.

- late night burger dates at the same burger stall by the corner of her apartment, the dude already memories yalls orders too.

- she always loses her jacket or hoodie but never worrying bcs soon enough she'll see that you're wearing it.

- she likes to buy you random things she thinks you'd like, like a sun shaped keychain, a book you've mentioned once, a cat mug that costed her 70$

- she also likes it when you'll randomly intertwine your hands together, you'll be walking together or simply talking and sitting, and you'll have the urge to hold her hands, she'll immediately leane into your touch.

#gwen stacy #gwen stacy x reader #ghost spider x reader #ghost spider #atsv x reader #atsv #across the spiderverse #spiderman across the spiderverse #miles morales x reader #pavitr prabhakar x reader #hobie brown x reader

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pearlywritings · 7 months

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Sunday's deal

synopsis: you just want your husband to stay in bed with you on your day off.

prompt: 5

requested by: a lovely anon

pairing: Zhongli x fem!reader

tw: fluff, established relationship, domestic moment, modern AU

word count: 1.1k+ words in total

a/n: check my Token of appreciation writing event!

Sundays are both long-awaited and despicable.

Sundays are the only days when you and your husband get to spend entirely together.

Sundays are just like any other day when Zhongli wakes up disgustingly early (without an alarm clock!).

Sundays are full of reading together, occupying the kitchen to try out new recipes, laughing at the stupid jokes in one of his newspaper’s pages, going grocery shopping for the week where you get to pick the stuff and your beloved to push the cart until there is something you can’t reach.

Sundays are the days when your man sees and hears the most of your pouting, your playful glaring, your dramatic and exasperated sighs and huffs.

All because his dignified ass doesn’t laze around in bed on a day off.

When your eyes crack open and a palm smacks against the mattress - where he is supposed to be - your mood immediately turns sour. You love your husband, you absolutely, heart-clenchingly and gut-wrenchingly do. But would it kill him to drop his prim and proper habits once a week?

Ah, right, those qualities were part of the reason why you fell for the charming gentleman in the first place.

With a quiet groan you force your body to roll onto the back and lay in a starfish pose with eyes once again closed. You know he’ll eventually return to the room, because breakfast in bed is an every Saturday tradition and you can smell the fine brew of the tea and fresh pancakes from the kitchen. So, you stay just like that, savoring the last remnants of drowsiness while plotting the ways to get him back in bed for more than just eating breakfast.

Now that you think of it, Zhongli actually let go of many of his ‘prim and proper’ antics. For you. He no longer shakes his head at the probability of crumbs getting onto the sheets when you share the morning meal or the evening snack in bed. He stays up late on nights before days off just to spend extra time with you, which was foreign to him a couple of years ago when he stuck to the same schedule every day. Despite having so much to tell you, he learnt to simply stay silent, basking in the communication through touch and fond gazes rather than words (oh you remember the times when it was impossible to shut the knowledgeable history professor up).

And there are so much more of the little things he’s done for you. You have been having this conversation with yourself almost every Sunday for years, always debating between “It wouldn’t hurt him to drop one more habit, right? My morning embraces should be tempting enough” and “He is already so perfect, why am I being so harsh on him for something so silly?”

That is why it’s always a guessing game for Zhongli in which mood you will be when he eventually comes back to the bedroom with hands full of your breakfast.

“Are you awake already, my gem?” The silky voice interrupts you mid-deciding the verdict for your upcoming attitude, making your eyes snap open and blink owlishly. “Awake, I see. Wonderful.”

There is a smile in his tone, and there is one on his face when your head turns to look at him putting the tray down on the bedside table and then digging his knee into the mattress. He reaches to where you are still sprawled and leans down to press a soft kiss to your nose, chuckling when you scrunch in cutely.

“‘Wonderful’, you say? Is there really anything wonderful in waking up and not witnessing the face of my husband?” There it is, the first huff of the morning. How many there are to come, the man thinks in amusement.

“But you’ve just witnessed it, no?” He is still hovering over you with slightly squinted eyes and a content smile. You scoff. Ah, here is another one.

“Not the same,” you mutter, but allow him to kiss you on the lips, not being mad enough to rob both of you of your every morning ritual. You never truly are. “I’ve been waiting for this Sunday, you know.”

“Oh?” He draws himself back when you start sitting up, averting his eyes, trying to remember if you made an agreement to go somewhere. “Did we have something planned today? Pardon my forgetfulness if that’s really the case.”

Straightening your back, you lift your arms high and give yourself a good stretch, squeezing your eyes shut and letting out a pleased yawn. Zhongli can’t help but stare at you, enamored, wistful and lowering his guard.

“Mmm, no, nothing, my love. In fact…” Abruptly turning to him, you throw your outstretched arms around his shoulders and fall backwards, pulling his body with you. Zhongli unceremoniously slumps on top of you with an obscene groan, face tucked into your neck and ass sticking out. You nearly laugh at the sight of that.

“In fact, let’s think about it in bed.”

Your husband sighs against your shoulder and accepts his defeat, folding his legs to the side and lying down more comfortably, still in your embrace.

“What were you waiting this Sunday for though, dear?” His fingers bury into the fabric of your pajama. You hum, running yours through his dark hair, coaxing a pleased gasp from his lips, provoking the eyelashes to tremble in the eyelids’ attempt not to slide close.

“To spend the day with you of course. Hoping that I’ll get that rarest, basically non-existent moment of you lazing in bed upon waking up.”

“You’ve been at it for years, Y/n,” his chest vibrates with laughter to which you roll your eyes.

“Could’ve succumbed at least once.”

“How about this,” he rolls onto his side, bringing you with him, so you both could hold each other in your arms and look directly into each other’s eyes. “Since we don’t have any date planned, don't need to fill the fridge and all the other activities can be transferred here - how do you look at spending the whole day in bed?”

“You mean it?” The gleam in your eyes is contagious and his shine with adoration upon gazing at your elated expression.

“I mean it. But first we’ll eat breakfast. Then I am all yours, you can cuddle me to suffocation if you so desire.”

“Don’t complain if I actually do.”

“Wouldn’t dream of it. So, do we have a deal?”

You kiss him. Slowly and delicately, your lips move together, sealing the unwritten pact with a supreme seal, meeting in a couple of more dances just for the good measure, until there is no breath left.

“Yes, Li,” you murmur, pecking his chin and sighing happily. “We have a deal.”

#pearlywritings appreciation event #token of appreciation #genshin impact #genshin impact x reader #zhongli x reader #zhongli x fem!reader #zhongli #genshin impact fluff #modern au

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daenysx · 10 months

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i can't explain how much i love the idea of modern!aegon and sunfyre as his dog, it's just perfect. anyway, i hope you like this!

my masterlist

lost piece

modern!aegon tells you he loves you for the first time.

aegon is late.

he promised you that you'll only wait 15 minutes for him and not a minute more.

well, he couldn't keep that promise thanks to aemond. he spent the entire car ride cursing his younger brother. your voice sounded sleepy when you called him and he told you he would come home before you fall asleep.

he would fight aemond if he'd believe he could beat him.

he rushes to the door, finds his keys and steps inside. there is no sound in his apartment besides the quiet mumblings coming from tv. what's weird is that sunfyre doesn't come to his side to greet him. aegon frowns slightly and walks to the living room.

he looks at the sight in front of him and takes a deep breath.

you are fast asleep on the couch with sunfyre cuddled comfortably on your chest.

the sight is exquisite.

it strucks him then, how it feels to be in love. a feeling he never thought he'd feel.

he can only stand there, looking at you, his lips parted slightly, and his eyes teary.

he doesn't know how to live this feeling, the feeling of loving someone. sure he loves his mom, his sweet sister helaena, and daeron. he even loves aemond even though they don't get along and argue all the time.

but he has never loved a stranger before.

you were a stranger once, thinking of it makes his heart clench now. you came into his life, changed the things he has grown to accept. he can feel, you love him too. it's just the confession of it that has never been spoken between you two. nevertheless, he can feel your love in your touches, in your soft voice, in your little actions that makes his heart flutter.

he wishes to confess like a desperate man. like the feeling will burn his heart and his mind if he doesn't tell you.

but no, you're sleeping right now, and sunfyre sleeps too. it would be unfair. he should wait until the morning. he can wake up earlier than you and prepare breakfast for you. maybe those pancakes you like. he doesn't even know the recipe but who cares, he can do it.

he blinks and a sudden awareness comes, he has been standing there for at least 10 minutes, just thinking. he walks to you slowly, careful not to make any noise. he takes the remote and turns off the tv first.

then he reaches the couch and kneels. sunfyre opens his eyes and looks at him, still sleepy and warm from your arms holding him lovingly. aegon puts his hand on the dog's head, stroking the soft fur.

"hey, pretty boy. not happy to see me?" aegon whispers.

sunfyre blinks, he looks too comfortable in your arms, lying on top of you as you cuddle him. aegon understands his dog, of course he would prefer cuddling you over being cute with aegon.

sunfyre adores you aegon knows, and you adore him. you sometimes divide your attention between aegon and his cute, little dog. this could make aegon sad, sharing you with someone else but thank to gods his inner voice helps him. come on dude, he is your fucking dog, you can't possibly be jealous of your dog.

he keeps stroking sunfyre's fur and his other hand moves to your head. you must be really tired if you don't feel his fingers stroking your hair now, he thinks. he is quite content with his position, on his knees and looks at his two little loves. he smiles then, happy with himself.

finally feeling his gentle fingers on your hair, you slowly open your eyes, it's too hard to wake up but you want to see aegon. you blink, a little smile makes your lips curved. he leans in and presses a kiss on your lips.

"hi, baby."

you greet him back with a sleepy voice. he kisses you again. "sorry, i'm late."

"it's okay. are you hungry? we can make something really quick-"

he shakes his head then, but feels a wave of gratefulness wash over him. "i'm not hungry. let's go to bed, you should sleep."

you hum softly, your one hand cups his cheek as the other one holds his hand on sunfyre's head.

aegon takes sunfyre gently in his arms to help you stand up. he holds his dog securely in his arm and leads you to bedroom with his free hand. your steps are unbalanced, your eyes probably half closed from sleep.

he helps you lay on bed first, and then quickly puts sunfyre on his own little bed, kissing his head. he comes back to your side, his favorite place. it only takes a minute to take off his clothes and lay next to you in bed.

he takes you in his arms, and smiles when you put your head on his bare chest. your hair tickles his neck, he adores the feeling. you are in between the lovely stage of staying awake and falling asleep with closed eyes and unclear mumblings. he kisses your hair, tries to reflect all the endearing actions you always do for him.

"aegon-" you whisper.

his lips stop moving on your hair. "what happened, sweetheart?"

you snuggle even closer to his chest, your lips pressed tightly on his neck. you lift your head slightly. "just- love you."

his eyes are teary again because how perfect it feels to hear these words come out of your mouth. you fall asleep on him after your little confession but he kisses your hair once more.

"i love you too, baby."

you probably don't hear the words but that's okay. he still has the breakfast plan. you will hear those words from him tomorrow morning, he will blush slightly and his heart will beat for the pretty laugh you'll gift him.

he feels completed now that he has heard the words from you and said them back. it was like a lost piece of a puzzle, now the piece stands on the spot it belongs to.

and now, as he lays in his bed with you pressed against his body, he takes a deep breath. the lovely sentence carves its way in his heart, makes him feel warm and happy. he thinks, he can learn to live like this. all safe, happy, and a good man. with you by his side.

#aegon ii x you #aegon ii targaryen x reader #aegon targaryen x you #aegon targaryen x reader #aegon ii targaryen x you #aegon x reader #aegon ii fic #aegon ii fanfic #hotd #aegon targaryen #aegon ii targaryen #aegon ii fluff #aegon x you #house of the dragon #modern!aegon #sunfyre #sunfyre as a dog

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wosoluver · 8 days

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I have a request for Lena Oberdorf x Bayern Reader.

On the topic of her transfer to Bayern. This request is full on fluff with maybe a little angst of them being apart.

Reunited

Can we please get one about Obi loving domestic life with Reader when they see each other (cooking together, cuddling while watching movies & even versing each other at video games). But misses it dearly when the two have to be apart for months on end due to their commitments with their respective clubs. Sure the two see each other during the national break but that’s not enough. So Obi decides to transfer to Bayern to be with Reader 24/7.

Reunited.

Lena x reader

"Finally reunited!" you said as you put your seatbelt on.

"Only for a little bit though." she said turning on the engine, to drive to her apartment from picking you up at the airport.

"Don't say that, we have a couple of days." you grabbed the hand she had in your thigh, intertwining your fingers and kissing the back of it.

"Sorry schatz. I swear, I'm very excited to spend time together."

You were a Bayern Munich player, and your girlfriend, well, she was one of your best rivals. She played for Wolfsburg.

You can say it took a lot of concessions, to make the relationship work.

"Okay love, I'm going to shower. Can you order dinner for us?"

"Yeah. Movie night or game night?"

"Game night!" you said disappearing into the bedroom's in suite.

"How does it feel to lose for the third time in a row?" she asked as you pouted your lips.

"You cheated this last round!"

"Well, all is fair in love and war." she tried to reason.

"And which one was it? Love or war?" she had distracted you, by removing her sweatshirt, staying in only a pair of shorts and a sports bra.

It would've been fine if she did it because she was hot. But she did it exactly to distract you. Flexing her muscles at any chance she got.

"Both. I wanted to win the game and I love to see you drooling." she said teasing you.

"I didn't drool!"

"You so did." she said pulling you to sit on her lap.

"Fine. How could I not? I'm dating the embodiment of a goddess."

That would have been enough, if she wasn't already turned on by you naturally.

"I think it's time we go to bed." she said with a naughty look on her face.

"Good Morning my love." she said kissing your temple. You opened your eyes, taking in Lena's sleepy and puffy face, as a ray of light came through the window.

"Good morning liebling. Slept well?"

"The best I have, since the last time we slept in the same bed." she would always bring up the fact you guys were separated by over 400 kilometers, constantly.

"In a couple of years, this will be our lives everyday." you reassured her, the best you could every time.

"I'll die of happiness when that happens."

This woman made your heart feel like it was about to explode.

"How about we cook some breakfast? I can make your favorite."

"Yes! I've been craving it." giving you a kiss before getting up. "Let's go."

"I've never seen you get up so fast in my life." as you followed her to get cleaned up.

"I don't know how you make this taste so good. Usually healthy versions of things taste like cardboard." as you prepared the pancake batter.

"We can't really break our diets, so. Also it's just a good recipe."

"Don't play it on the recipe. It's all you. Take a complement please."

"Thank you, schatz. How about we make a smoothie to complement it?"

"I'll start cutting the fruits." but before she could turn, you grabbed her attention.

"Hey..." you said dabbing a finger in the liquid and tapping it on her nose.

"Oh, it's on." letting out a mischievous grin.

You had the day all to yourselves. Not wanting to waste your time with anyone that wasn't each other, you decided upon watching movies. Only movies ever allowed to play by your girlfriend, was Disney movies. Not that you would ever complain. And you had chose the first one. Tangled.

Cuddling up to her. She was almost always the big spoon, only setting for other option when she felt extremely needy. So you laid on your back, as she placed her head on your chest, cuddling to your side the best she could, since you were a bit smaller than her.

You spent your time focusing partially on the movie and partially in gently combing her hair through you fingers and massaging her scalp.

"They are just like us. I'm obviously Flynn, good looking, funny, has a hot girlfriend."

"And I look nothing like Rapunzel."

"No, but you would probably defend yourself with a frying pan, if someone broke into the apartment."

She never failed at making you laugh. You loved that about her.

Every time you spent more time around eachother, she was more and more sure, of wanting to marry you. Of taking the decision to ask for a transfer.

She hadn't brought up yet. She was waiting till it felt like it was the right moment.

While you held each other under the blankets, you noticed she wasn't paying attention at all. So you brought up what you thought was bothering her.

"Aren't you supposed to be looking for a new apartment? I thought your lease was ending this summer."

"I've looked at some but, not one of them felt right." she mustered all her courage for her next words. It was now or now.

"It will only feel like a home, if I have you with me."

"What do you mean?"

"What if I moved to Munich?"

"That would be amazing! Are you planning to leave Wolfsburg next year?"

"Actually, I'm asking for a transfer over the summer."

"Are you messing with me?"

"I'm serious. All is fair in love and war, I want to move into a more competitive club and I want to be with you, close to you, not having to take a plane just to kiss you."

"You are?" You instantly jumped up on the bed.

"Yes." she said laughing as you jumped on the bed.

You landed on top of her. Pulling her into a hug.

"Love, I can't breathe properly." she said under you.

"Sorry, right, you have to be alive for that to happen." she pulled you back to her.

"I love you." she left a kiss on your forehead.

"And I love you." you said placing a kiss on her lips.

Hope you like it! Thanks for sending this in 🩷

#woso x reader #lena oberdorf #lena oberdorf x reader #dfb frauen #futfem

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lowkeyrobin · 2 months

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Headcanons for mcyt x reader doing a cooking/baking stream together??

I love your writing!!!

ooooo okay okay!!! yes of course bro ; also thank you!! I appreciate it sm 🫶🫶🫶🫶

MCYT ; cooking/baking stream

includes ; tommyinnit, tubbo, ranboo, badlinu, nihachu, quackity, & foolish gamers

warnings ; language, grease fires

masterlist

TOMMYINNIT

you guys were making lasanga

Garfield jokes every five minutes

there's pasta sauce and cheese everywhere

he's constantly screaming to the viewers because you keep slapping him with the lasagna sheets, cooked or dry

"y/n! help! I'm being assaulted with lasagna sheets!"

he stained his shirt with pasta sauce 💀💀

almost set the house on fire bc he somehow left shit in the oven before preheating it

you turn on music halfway through and it turns into a karaoke stream

"CALIFORNIA GIRLS WERE UNFORGETTABLE-"

TUBBO

what was once a nice cake baking stream turned into making your kitchen a biohazard

somehow, you both went on a spree dropping everything to the point the frustration got too much for you, and you nearly screamed, while tubbo was trying to joke around about it to make you feel better

eating the remaining batter after putting the cake pan in the oven was a must

"aren't we gonna get salmonella?"

"that's only for Americans"

"really???"

the next 40 minutes consist of karaoke and reading dumb tweets/threads and AITA Reddit stories

"no, you are not the asshole because you were accustoming to a customer's needs, the fuck?"

"fire the manager"

"if they could've I feel like they would've"

cake was a 10/10

RANBOO

you were making soup because you found a good recipe you wanted to try

you accidently spilled the broth and covered your legs in it

he cut himself chopping up the celery (very minor cut dw)

"cooking stream? more like we injure ourselves for two hours stream"

"cooking stream? I hardly know her"

very chaotic but very good soup

during the intervals where you guys were just waiting for things to cook, you started a hashtag on Twitter to ask you guys stuff

and you answered them while keeping an eye on the food

afterwards you guys watch TV and eat your food while still streaming

"normalize eating on stream 2024!"

FREDDIE BADLINU

you were making breakfast for dinner on stream

you had to go use the bathroom while the bacon was cooking and left Freddie to tend to everything for less than a minute

and he started a grease fire.

after he got it extinguished he kinda just stood there waiting for you

meanwhile chat was exploding with panic and laughter

"Hey, y/n, I don't think we're having bacon tonight!"

"What the fuck happened???"

luckily no damage to anything other than the meat

the rest of it was really good though, and the stream had enough action for tonight 💀💀

NIKI NIHACHU

you guys were making cupcakes

you dropped like two eggs 💀💀💀 so while she was getting new ones you were cleaning up all the eggshell fragments and the insides

you got the camera to show stream your fucking mess and someone sent a dono saying "butterfingers ass"

the cackling after that 💀

you're able to get them into the oven though

and while you're waiting for them to cook, you watch dance moms and discuss everything wrong with it

commentary youtubers? I hardly know them

she begins making the icing while you pull the cupcakes out to let them cool

10/10 cupcakes they're amazing

you guys had a pride flag theme so lmao

ALEX QUACKITY

you were supposed to be making pancakes as a little challenge

his are literally raw and he put chocolate chips from the freezer straight in them

"that banana isn't gonna help anything"

"how do you know that??"

flour is everywhere. it looks like a war started

you put to much non-stick spray on the skillet and started a little fire

but Alex to the rescue dw

he couldn't even figure out how to use it and almost sprayed himself in the face!

goes on Twitter later to update that your kitchen was completely fine but the underneath of your microwave is a tiny bit melted

you blame him every time after that 💀💀

"my microwave melted a bit because you don't know how to use a fire extinguisher!"

"youre the one who used too much spray!"

chat always sides with you, too 😭😭

FOOLISH GAMERS

you thought making fried rice was a good idea? wrong

he literally has no idea what's happening

"can you make the scrambled eggs for me while I tend to the vegetables?"

"how many?"

"they're literally on the cabinet"

chat clipping every single funny moment too

"is the rice cooker even on? holy shit you left it on warm"

"I thought that meant it was on!"

"dude you've used this thing before, how long did it take for you to cook it?"

"like, forever"

"oh my god"

fried rice 10/10

he's complaining about the vegetables like he didn't have like two hours to say something about different veggies

#lowkeyrobin #mcyt x reader #mcyt preferences #mcyt oneshot #tommyinnit x reader #ranboo x reader #quackity x reader #badlinu x reader #freddie badlinu x reader #niki nihachu x reader #nihachu x reader #foolish gamers x reader #tubbo x reader

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interpolanticssuperfan · 9 months

Text

nothing natural | ken x fem!reader | part 3 | 18+ only

hii everyone! thank you SO much for the incredible kindness youve shown me and sweet words so far! and thank you all for reading. i accidentally made this chapter longer than i intended to.. oops. i hope i am doing a good job at slow burning because ive struggled with that in the past. warnings: reader goes outside to smoke a cigarette. lol. enjoy and as always feedback fuels me!!

also, i wanted to let you all know that you can listen to the playlist i have been listening to as i work on this fic which is sort of a mix of stuff that reminds me of ken and stuff i think he'd like. idk i love when authors share what they listen to, so you can check that out here.

you can also reply to my posts or message me if you want to be tagged for updates. i am posting a masterlist today for ease of access.

tags: @heyareyoulistening @itsametaphorbriansblog @alyeria

In the span of one hour, you absorbed more information and somehow became more confused the longer Ken spent investigating every inch of your apartment. You explained to him that you did not own this entire building, and that only one unit was allotted to you, but this still impressed Ken.

“Are you friends with all your neighbors?” He asked, squinting closely at the magnets on your fridge, touching them and flipping frantically through the notepad you used for grocery lists, like he needed to see more of your handwriting, more of the things you used every day. Ken murmured to himself as he took in the words: flour, one dozen eggs, croissants.

You’d reinstated yourself at your dining table with your work laptop, creating an elaborate lie for your supervisor as to why you missed the weekly team check in. My cousin’s dog was assaulted by a rabid possum and we had to take him to the emergency vet, please excuse my brief absence… I’m happy to work overtime to accommodate this inconvenience… He was only a puppy…

So on and so forth. You were confident you could schmooze your way out of a write up. Ken couldn’t stand still, couldn’t contain himself – had whizzed through the front door when you unlocked it, bouncing off the walls with questions and comments that flowed freely.

“No, I’m not friends with all my neighbors. There’s gotta be at least forty other people that live here. Are you?”

“I know all the Kens. We are not all friends. But I know all of them.”

“You’re all named Ken.”

“No. There’s Allans.”

“Right.”

Ken gleefully picked up each cookbook stacked on top of a low hanging shelf, tearing through each one and making tiny astonished faces at each new dish he was introduced to. Recipes on the sweeter side piqued his interest – cinnamon rolls, pastries, cookies. You had suspended disbelief long enough to just let Ken do this, let him touch everything even if he moved your belongings out of place. It wasn’t typical for you to have a man over, let alone one who was learning how the natural human world worked. (And had to ask you with stars in his eyes what ovens were for.)

“These pancakes look divine. They’re putting all kinds of stuff in these. I didn’t know you could put blueberries in them. They taste good, right?” You craned your neck to get a look at the recipe he was referring to.

“If you’re a decent cook! You just have to pay attention to what you’re doing, measuring, how long things stay on the stove. It’s like that for anything you cook. I’m not great with pancakes, for some reason I always tend to burn them.”

“So what’s your favorite food?” Ken asks, setting the book down and taking to the fridge, flinging the doors wide open and surveying each salad dressing, bottle of water, every can of cold brew coffee. He ran his fingers along the labels, as if reading braille, receiving telepathic information about these products from just handling them. It was an odd sight. Everything he held looked so small in his hands.

“Er… I guess I really like sushi. But I haven’t had it in awhile. Trying to save money, make a habit of eating at home. And I just like to make simple things.”

“What’s in sushi?” Ken’s rotating a banana in his hands, picking at the stem to see what it does.

“A lot of things. Usually raw fish. Rice that sticks together to make a shape, seaweed, different kinds of sauces.” It’s making you laugh, seeing Ken size up this banana with a puzzled look on his face. “Do you want to try eating that?”

He shifts uncomfortably, placing the fruit back down on the counter like it had offended him. “We have these in Barbieland but they are not nearly as squishy. Ours are rock hard. And not brown!”

Ken was right – that banana was probably past its prime, but you hadn’t cleaned out the fridge in a few days. You’d gotten sick of refreshing your inbox waiting for a reply from your supervisor, so you got up and pulled a knife from the drawer, setting the squishy banana on a paper towel to cut it.

“Here. Try this,” you cut through the peel and divide up a small end slice into two pieces, holding one out to Ken who seems frightened by it, squares his shoulders.

“There’s something inside that peel?”

“Go ahead, just take a bite! You might like it, how else will you find out what you like?”

“But (Y/N), I’m not… hungry.”

“That’s okay. It’s a very small slice, I promise it’ll be alright, Ken.”

His eyes flash with trust at the promise you’ve just made him, so he abandons his apprehension and plops the bit into his mouth. It’s like watching a baby bird clamor for its mother’s offering of regurgitated seed and berry mix. Ken doesn’t instinctively chew, he just lets it sit in his mouth like he’s waiting for the fruit to do something. You raise up the other banana slice, catch his eye and show him how to chew, slowly, and then swallow.

Ken nods, although his movements are strange and exaggerated, but eventually allows a smile. “That was pretty good. Mushy.” He searches your face to see if he’s given the correct answer, which is even funnier to you than him trying food for the first time.

“Did you like it? Bananas are on the sweet side.”

“Definitely. I think I really like them. Can I have the rest of it?”

“So you can taste!”

Ken grins to himself, gives you a proud stance and swaggers to the side, popping his hip out as he starts cutting up the rest of the fruit.

“Oh, yeah. I can taste everything. Nothing I can’t taste.”

“When I go to the store next I can get you some more sweet foods. But you can’t just eat sweets. Fruit is naturally sweet, but for example, you can’t just have ice cream and brownies all the time. Your body will hate you for that.”

“And I can make you pancakes with bananas.” Ken adds, cocky as ever, already physically spreading himself out in your kitchen like he owns the place, thighs open and easy and confident as he leans back. He adjusts quickly to new situations, you’re discovering, with none of the social anxiety most people might feel.

“Let’s save the cooking and… turning on the stovetop… for when I can teach you. It can be dangerous if you’re not familiar with what to do.”

“But what if I want to surprise you, (Y/N)? You wouldn’t want to ruin it, would you?”

“I’d rather ruin the breakfast than have you accidentally catch my apartment building on fire.”

Ken considers this, starts chewing at the rest of the banana slices while still committed to looking cool as he does so. “You’re so right. So, where do you think I should sleep?”

You put some distance between the two of you, since proximity to the blonde had begun to make you feel inexplicably self conscious, and sit back down at your laptop. You hadn’t gotten this far, hadn’t decided where Ken could stay and if he was even going to stay. Stay for what? A crash course in becoming a member of society? Turn him into the perfect roommate who’s convinced you’re dating now? And how in the hell were you qualified to teach him anything about life, fulfillment, health or success when you were far from the epitome of any of those?

“I thought you said you didn’t get tired.”

“There’s something I need to tell you about,” the sudden change in Ken’s tone caught you off guard, so after taking a brief glance at your emails again and confirming nothing of substance had arrived, you folded your hands in your lap and turned your body towards him, anticipatory and patient.

“When Barbie went to the real world, almost everything about her changed. She still looked like herself, but… it was different. She told us that she got a cold.” Ken gestured to his nose, crinkling it up in dismay. “Sniffling. She had to use tissues.”

“You’re worried about getting sick?”

“No, not… right now.” Ken tried again, attacking it from a different angle. “Barbie said the longer she was here, the more she kept changing. Barbies never got sick before. But she had to see a human doctor, and she started making her own food and eating it. Sandwiches. And her flat feet never went away.” Ken’s distress was evident, but you weren’t sure what he was getting at, couldn’t see what panicked him so much about this topic.

“I don’t understand. What are you saying, Ken?” You tried to keep yourself casual, so as not to freak him out even further; he’d already begun pacing, boots clacking against your kitchen tile with each step.

“I’m saying that the longer I stay here, the less I’m going to be like… how I was.” He sounded so unsure, on the precipice of a conclusion, fearful of what he might learn. “Don’t you get it? I’ll have to brush my hair. Call the dentist. Pay taxes. Wear deodorant. I might get a breakout on my chin, just like Barbie did.” The last part sounded like the nail in the coffin for Ken, who looked weak just recalling the memory.

“Taxes? But you don’t have a job, do you? For all the city knows, you don’t even exist.”

“That’s not the point, (Y/N)! I’ll have to get a job.”

“Sorry, I’m sorry. So… it sounds like you’ll become less like a doll?”

“Exactly. And I’ll have to do it alone.” Ken was silent, pensive as you let his confession settle. Perhaps it wasn’t the changes that he dreaded.

It was doing it without any support.

“I see. So you’ll have to sleep. You’ll have to eat. Is that scaring you?” Your intention was to minimize these facts of daily human life, shrink them down to manageable tasks, not to trivialize his valid concerns.

Ken hollowed his cheek, bit the skin in between his teeth and looked around for something to focus on while he reflected on what you asked. Noticing the cage you had set up for your guinea pig, Ken crouched in front of it without so much as a knee crack, raising his eyebrows up inquisitively.

“Who’s this?”

“I should’ve introduced you to her earlier. She’s my guinea pig, her name’s Willa. See her long hair? It’s really beautiful, but she’s pretty high maintenance.”

Sounds like someone else in this room.

Being so close to Willa appeared to calm Ken down, and you watched his shoulders drop slightly, saw the veins in his neck depress, growing less agitated. “Does she have to brush her hair?”

The cookbooks, grocery lists, the banana had inspired Ken to ask countless questions, but meeting Willa, Ken merely watched in quiet awe.

You couldn’t help but laugh at his purported jab. “I help her with it every day. She’s got a special little brush.”

“Hers is longer than mine. At least she gets some assistance.”

Ken sighs deeply, not taking his eyes off tiny caramel colored Willa, who has no idea what’s happening, just lounges in the paper substrate fleece and wiggles her nose up at the blonde staring her down. He rubs meager circles on his knees as if to soothe himself, then sighs again, long and dramatic. From minute to minute, Ken’s moods shift so drastically – he could be lovingly describing his newfound obsession with bananas and then just as easily pivot to jealousy over a guinea pig receiving grooming services from its owner. Decoding him was like whiplash.

“Ken?”

“I’ve been putting off thinking about this part.”

“You mean losing your doll-ness?”

“Yeah.” Ken’s voice is small, terrified, unbefitting of how he presented himself. Put together, well dressed, toned, tanned, oozing with charm. It all dissipated with his answer.

With your foot, you push out the dining table chair adjacent to you, the scrape spooking Ken as he jumps. “Why don’t you come sit here and talk with me? You can bring Willa, she likes making friends. Just be mindful of her.” Nervous, Ken obliges, sticks a hand into her enclosure and waits for Willa to crawl over to him.

To your shock, she comes without a moment’s hesitation, nosing at his palm and blinking at him. Willa ardently disapproved of your last boyfriend, and she never seemed to like the odd hookup you’d bring over after your explosive breakup. She’d ignore any man in the apartment for the most part, but you couldn’t believe how easy it had been for her to warm up to Ken, snuggling up to him already.

“Wow. She normally doesn’t like strangers.”

“Looks like she prefers your friends. She’s so soft,” Ken notes, temporarily forgetting about the needling anxiety he’d been expressing to you, and sits down. At your table Ken seemed larger than life, so full of color and irresistible personality. The most interesting irregularity you had ever entertained. He flattened the backs of his hands on the placemat and smiled down shyly at Willa, gentle like he was convinced the tiniest movement could hurt her.

(A smile that had the power to devastate – could ruin your life, could make you want to throw it all away just to know him; a smile that Ken saved specifically for a defenseless creature that nibbed at his thumbnail.)

“Go ahead and pet her! They like that,” you encouraged Ken, denying the lump in your throat, who obeys and brings a steady forefinger to Willa’s back, warily petting her in one stunted action. Willa rustles, but doesn’t flee or make any noises contesting his presence. “She might try to run away, so just make sure you keep an eye on her.”

“I promise I will, (Y/N). How old is she?”

“She’s two and a half.” You raise your eyes to Ken, who’s entranced by the small animal and her lustrous coat, indifferent to his surroundings now that he’s connected with this hairy comrade. “How old are you?”

“I have no idea. How old are you?”

This shouldn’t have surprised you at this point. Nothing could catch you off guard now as you went down the list, dedicating yourself wholly to figuring out what to do with this guy. Given how unadjusted he is to the world, is Ken your responsibility now? What would happen to him if he went out, unprepared, unassimilated, and tried to do things like get a job, buy something from the store? Had he ever seen currency before?

Would you have to teach Ken math? You failed calculus. More than once. This wasn’t boding well.

“I’m twenty five. You don’t have a birthday?”

“What’s that?”

“It’s how you keep track of your age. Could you look at me for a second? Maybe I can try and guess.” Ken’s reluctant to stop looking at Willa, but does as you say, and it strikes you to admire him overtly like this, free from the guise of contrived modesty, not hiding how strongly you want to see him. He’s open, almost tranquil, those wide eyes continuously following yours, every single aspect of his demeanor softening the more you drink him in.

You couldn’t help but freeze. Pinning him. You could hear the robins chirping outside on the patio. Buses shuttling along on the road outside. Your blood pumping in your fingers, the hot curl of desire in your stomach. At once, everything felt vibrant, felt… exceptional.

Because of him.

Blonde angel, almost porcelain. Kind with your pet. Enthralled with the simplest items you owned. Eager to assist you with any task, however minor. Naively trusting.

Blind to the ways this world could twist and chew you up. Brand new.

You wouldn’t ever be the source of pain for Ken. In that moment, searching his stark blue eyes for an answer to a question you couldn’t articulate, you wrote it on your heart, that no matter what happened – whether Ken stayed in your life, as a friend or something more – you would never hurt him.

You don’t even remember what you were trying to do with him. Mesmerized, you simply just enjoyed the sight, at a loss for words. What was there to say that wouldn’t fizzle out and die on your lips?

How are you real? (He wasn’t.)

How did you get here? (He’d waited for you.)

Do you have any idea how beautiful you are?

“(Y/N)? Did you calculate it yet? Maybe it’ll be easier if I unbutton my jacket. Willa, stay put, I need to do something,” It flew over your head, you couldn’t hear what he said, just gawked and felt your pulse thrum as Ken started to undo the top of his denim jacket. Deft fingers working, you had to be aware of how affected you looked. You couldn’t hide it.

To see more of Ken’s chest physically pained you – it hurt to look, hurt to squirm and act like it wasn’t overwhelming, burning you up. He showed off his defined, carved muscle, smooth and enticing like a joke or something.

Willa sniffed the salt and pepper shaker, not moving even a millimeter away from Ken as he undid the last button with a muffled pop.

Where wisps of blonde hair would’ve led down to the tip of Ken’s waistband, there was nothing, just more of that milky white skin, blameless and pure and teasing. Where ribs should have anatomically been, his chest expanded then deflated, ripples of flesh rolling, then relaxing.

All of him on display. All of him so… bare.

Well – not all of him. Not yet.

You hadn’t felt anything like this before, not ever. You were experienced – you weren’t uneducated when it came to sex, or… pleasure. Yet it was impossible that you’d felt true desire in the past, even for the man you’d fallen in love with and been betrayed by, because those memories shriveled in comparison to what you felt in this moment, seeing Ken like this, expectant and unrestrained and so fiercely magnetizing. You saw your future, you saw his body, you saw Ken’s long eyelashes fluttering and pretty like a girl’s, and it was too fucking much, louder than your heart slamming inside your chest.

You began to question if you were even real. If this was happening. Maybe you were the lifeless doll. Harsh stings peppered out along the slope of your neckline – for the second time since meeting Ken, did that really just happen today? – and you made the horrible mistake of telling him the truth just as he was starting to visibly fidget, awaiting your reply.

“(Y/N)? Is this helping? If not, I can –”

“You’re so goddamned gorgeous. Fuck.”

“What?” Ken blinked, taken aback. He looked like he wanted to say more, to press you, but he couldn’t form a response.

“I’m. Jesus. I am so sorry, Ken. That wasn’t appropriate at all. I’m… supposed to be helping you. I’m sorry.” Dizzyingly, you shot to your feet, dug your heels against the floor just to feel grounded, and reached over the table for your purse.

Weren’t you the one supposed to be in charge of boundaries? Teaching Ken how to act, how not to rush things when you met someone you wanted to get to know?

Ken had flushed a deep shade of peach, an obvious blush that mottled his neck and spread out to his clavicles, nearly reaching his shoulder tips.

“Did I do something wrong? Can you please tell me what it was?” Ken urged, pupils the size of saucers and still dancing to follow your every move. His face was frantic, lips parted revealing more of his perfect teeth, just another element of his perfect face, everything so perfect about him, and your headache threatened to return in full force.

“No – no, you didn’t, Ken. I promise. I just need to go outside and smoke, it’s not your fault, okay? Can you please stay here with Willa? I’ll only be a minute.”

Ken clearly didn’t know what you meant, or what smoking entailed, but he stayed fused to the chair, biting at his lip again in fragile confusion and not daring to abandon Willa. Fumbling for your lighter through the fabric, you caught the unmistakable downturn of rejection swimming across his features, and the notion that you might have inadvertently let him down made you sicker than the intense wave of lust that had just crashed over you, almost crumbling you, reducing you to nothing but a star cursed to orbit a bigger, more important planet.

#ken #ryan gosling #ken barbie #barbie movie #ken x reader #ken x fem reader #ryan gosling ken #female reader

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just-j-really · 2 months

Text

Unsolumates, part five:

Masterpost

“Have you found your person yet?” Morpheus asks. “Your- not your soulmate?”

It’s been a little over two months, since Hob and Audrey broke up. Somehow ‘getting dinner with Morpheus just after’ had turned into ‘additional drinks’ had turned into ‘brunch, a few days later,’ and now Hob doesn’t think a week has passed since the breakup that he hasn’t seen Morpheus, at least briefly. Morpheus has carefully avoided the subject of soulmates, of romance entirely, for the entire nine weeks, and Hob is a little ashamed and a lot grateful.

They aren’t… whatever they were, before. Hob still isn’t sure if ‘whatever’ was ‘experiment and mad scientist.’ He’s doesn’t really care, though, because whether or not he used to be Morpheus’ monster, he doesn’t think he is anymore. Not after two months of regular, friendly pleasantries and coaxing Morpheus into talking about the play he’s working on and Morpheus listening to him wax poetic about his new flat and its in-unit laundry and actual decent heat.

So it feels perfectly easy to say, “Haven’t really been looking for ‘em,” even if it aches a little. Morpheus looks a little startled by the admission, so Hob adds, “Morpheus. I just spent fifteen minutes explaining what I had for breakfast yesterday, I would have mentioned if I were seeing someone.”

In his defense, it had been a good breakfast. A breakfast worthy of fifteen minutes of conversation. He might have to steal Gwen’s soulmate solely to get her pancake recipe.

Morpheus stares at the table, twisting one cuff of his coat in his opposite hand. “But you’re certain,” he says to the table. If he were anyone else Hob would say he sounds hesitant. “You will look for them. Eventually.”

This means something to him, Hob realizes. Something more than research, or mad science, more than curiosity. Means something on a future-altering bone-deep soul-defining level.

The thought drops into Hob’s mind, like a dead bird dropped into his lap by a pet cat that genuinely thinks it’s being generous, that Morpheus’ soulmate may be dead. It would explain the coat, which he hasn’t taken off even though the White Horse is boilingly warm tonight. Would explain why Hob’s only ever seen him in sleeves that go down to, often past, his wrists. Scarred-over soulmarks don’t look terribly different from ordinary scars, at least not at a quick glance, which means that any suspiciously soulmark-shaped scar tends to draw prying glances and effusive pity, and people with actual soulmark scars do their best to hide them.

It would explain a lot about Morpheus, actually, from the distant intensity with which he’d approached the whole soulmate thing to his complete ignorance of how even normal dating works to the delicate way Will had gone about inviting him to his wedding, asking if Hob thought he was overstepping at least six times in the process.

And oh, god, Hob’s been staring at Morpheus’ arms like an asshole, hasn’t he? He consciously draws his eyes away from Morpheus’ sleeves, which means he ends up looking into his eyes instead. His eyes are so blue, a shade Hob isn’t sure how to describe as anything other than ‘pretty,’ somehow light and intense and warm all at once.

Mesmerizing, maybe. Hypnotic.

The truly off-putting combination of the disarming blue of Morpheus’ eyes and Hob’s own scramble not to think about dead soulmates is, possibly, why he says, “I’ll make you a bet,” before his brain has caught up with his mouth, or even finished trying to come up with synonyms for ‘blue.’

“Hmm?” Morpheus asks. His expression is cool, but there’s a teasing glint in those ultramarine eyes that goads Hob on.

“That you can keep asking me that, as long as you want, and one day the answer will be ‘yes, and we’re very happy together.’” Hob finishes off his drink, sets his glass down with just enough force to punctuate the challenge. “I’ll even stake something on it. You could shave my head.”

“Why would I want to shave your head?” Morpheus asks. His expression is still entirely bland, but his eyes- azure- are dancing.

“That’s not the point,” Hob informs him, leaning in. He might be a bit too enthusiastic about the idea, but he’s a little giddy for no specific reason, just a good day and good company. “The point is that I don’t want you to, and I’m still willing to bet on it because I’m going to win.”

“Fine,” Morpheus says, rolling his eyes, “I’ll take the bet.”

Hob can see right through him, though. More to the point, he can see the way Morpheus is biting at his lower lip, completely ineffectively hiding a smile, and he’s powerless not to smile back.

At first, Hob thinks Morpheus is going to take this bet as seriously as their initial Whatever That Was. The first thing out of his mouth, the next time he and Hob meet for drinks, is so have you met your person yet? And Hob says not yet, and Morpheus asks if that means he’s won, and Hob informs him that a ‘not yet’ is not a ‘no’ and also did Morpheus expect him to find the love of his life within a week? He is not the lead in one of Will’s plays, why would he do that.

For someone who looked so smug when he asked Hob if he’d won the bet, Morpheus looks- almost equally satisfied when he learns Hob hasn’t experienced a whirlwind six day long romance.

But he lets it drop, after that, and they fall back into their new-old pattern, and all is right with the world.

“You know I nearly drowned once?” Hob asks.

In hindsight, it’s not a thing he should have asked while leaning out over a large pond because he swears that’s an ancient, sunken paddleboat in the middle of it and he wants a better look. Morpheus grabs him by the shoulder and yanks him backwards almost as soon as the words are out of his mouth, as though past near-drownings make Hob more susceptible to a watery grave.

“In a wave pool, yes,” Morpheus says, steering Hob away from the water’s edge. They’d been on their way to a museum, but Morpheus, for unknowable and mysterious reasons, had decided they should detour through this park on the way.

“Oh, no, after that,” Hob says, still craning his neck for a look at the sunken maybe-paddleboat. “I was like- sixteen? Got stuck under a boat when it flipped.” They reach the gravel path leading away from the water, and Morpheus lets Hob’s arm drop with noticeable reluctance.

“Just how many times have you nearly drowned?” Morpheus asks, as they trudge back toward the main path through the park.

“Uh. Two?” Hob replies. “The wave pool doesn’t count.”

“The fact that you think that is not reassuring,” Morpheus informs him, and will not budge on the issue no matter how much Hob tried to convince him that it doesn’t count as drowning as long as no one calls an ambulance.

The argument lasts them the rest of the way through the park, on a meandering route that doubles back on itself at least six times, across city streets to the museum, and through the queue for tickets. At that point Hob concedes. Not because he is wrong. He is not wrong, the other times didn’t count, but he has accepted the reality that he cannot possibly convince Morpheus of this fact.

Besides, the lure of keeping up a stupid argument shrivels and dies the moment Morpheus directs them out of the lobby area, past signs for the Theater Through the Ages exhibit, his eyes practically glowing with excitement. Hob doesn’t know what could have withstood the thrall of watching Morpheus stare at an old manuscript, a soft smile on his face. He wants to see Morpheus look this happy every day. He wants to be the reason for it.

He wants to soak in that expression for as long as he can, and that one he manages, trailing Morpheus through the exhibit like a lost puppy, absorbing exactly nothing of the room they’re in or the helpful signage or the contents of the cases. The windows could look out on the surface of Venus and there could be a sea monster in the corner giving directions and Hob would be none the wiser.

It takes Morpheus a while- Hob’s not keeping track of a stupid thing like time- to stop being dazzled by the exhibits and notice that Hob is dazzled for other reasons, but when he does he- crumples, just a little.

“You’re bored of this,” he says, as though this is an established fact Hob’s been politely not mentioning this whole time.

“No!” Hob says, “I’m not bored at all, just-” and then, thankfully, his mouth grinds to a halt before it can say any of the things his brain wants to. “A little lost?” he finally mumbles, once he’s managed to shove aside oh god please smile at me again and or climb me like a tree and actually have a conscious thought.

If nothing else, ‘lost’ has the benefit of being true, if not The Truth.

“Oh,” Morpheus says, somehow crumpling even further. A nauseous wave of self-loathing washes over Hob, for causing the light in Morpheus’ eyes to shrivel in on itself, he should have said all the stuff about oh god please smile at me again because at least that would be better than this-

“What’s that one about?” Hob says, a half step too loud, pointing at the nearest old book in a glass case.

He is, in hindsight, extremely lucky that he managed to point at a display and not a fire extinguisher.

Morpheus looks startled- Hob isn’t sure if that’s due to the words themselves, or just the volume- but turns to the case, Hob mirroring him, and begins to explain that it’s one of the few surviving volumes of a medieval playwright’s work. The explanation is stilted at first, Morpheus glancing over at Hob every few seconds as though expecting him to have turned away in disgust, but the smile slowly creeps back onto his face as Hob nods along, occasionally nudging at him to explain more.

It's Hob’s accomplishment of the year, maybe, coaxing that smile back to life, and he hangs onto Morpheus’ words like they’re oxygen as they meander through the rest of the exhibit.

The why of it all doesn’t phase him for the next several hours, because he doesn’t have time for intense self-examination. Not with Morpheus’ presence turning his mind into a dizzy slush, like his brain is made up of sunshine and honeybees and a persistent, thrumming notice me notice me notice me. Not with Morpheus failing to look aggrieved as they wander through a gallery of paintings, Hob critiquing each of them based on the presence of action and interesting animals.

Not when Morpheus grabs them each a drink at the museum café, giving Hob the chance to sneakily buy him a magnet from the gift shop, not when he looks so surprised when Hob hands him the little gift bag.

It’s only when they part ways that Hob catches himself smiling at his coffee cup, and the name Murphy in scratchy handwriting on the sleeve.

Well, shit, he thinks.

It had been easy, before, to let the tiny crush he’d been nursing wither and die. But now Morpheus is feeding it, refusing to let Hob pay for his own coffee and listening to him make stupid jokes about art history, and it has, accordingly, roared back to life, made itself comfortable in Hob’s heart.

#dreamling #my fic #unsoulmates au #we're back!

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citrusy-lemons · 10 months

Text

pancake-cakes

tasm!peter x reader

summary: late night cravings bring out some deeper feelings.

author's note: HOLY SHIT, count on me to go MIA for a month after posting. honestly tho i'm so sorry, i've got school and extracurriculars and projects and shit and i haven't really gotten time to write and my schedule is still super hectic, hopefully i'll be able to get other stuff out soon but no promises :/

let me know what you think? constructive criticism is welcome and please be nice :)

see, the middle of the night wasn't meant for this. it's to sleep and dream and pee.

not for baking a cake without having most ingredients of the cake. but you'd gotten a sudden craving and it was a weekend tomorrow, so bad decisions were inevitable.

did you have a million assignments to do? maybe. but peter also had a million assignments to do and he was still here, so technically, he's also making bad decisions. he was aware of that fact.

mind you he did try to convince you to go back to sleep at first but you wore him down. he didn't put up a big fight, he never did, against you.

he's convinced himself that he was only there to watch over you and make sure you didn't slice a finger or spill the flour, not to help you out with your late night shenanigans. but he was cutting up the strawberries so, really, he didn't have a strong resolve.

"you know, i think that when the box says 'pancake mix' you're supposed to make pancakes," he said, turning to you, who was reading the back of said box.

were you trying to bake a cake in the middle of the night with pancake batter cuz you didn't have the stuff for the cake and didn't want to go to the grocery store to get it? kinda. would peter have gone and got the stuff himself if you'd asked? yes.

"i didn't listen to you the last 17 times, i'm not gonna listen to you now, and besides," you said, pouring the mix into a bowl, "a pancake is just a cake but made on a pan instead of an oven. we're just changing the recipe a bit," you shrugged, like it was obvious and he was the stupid one.

"there are so many things wrong with that sentence, i dont even know where to begin,"

"here's a hint, don't."

you were being mean, you knew that. you didn't mean it. peter knew that. and you knew that peter knew that but you would apologize later. he knew that. he sighed dramatically.

"you wound me,"

you rolled your eyes at that. pretending to be annoyed at him was easy. wiping the smile away from your face when you were around him wasn't.

"if i had a dollar for every time you're wounded, i'd be filthy rich."

he glanced up at you. he knew that that wasn't completely a joke, it had a bittersweet tone to it. was that the reason why you were up at this ungodly hour? peter knew that you'd been stressed lately, he didn't know he had a hand in that.

"hey, you wanna tell me what's up?"

you didn't meet his eye, but you did stop fiddling with the bowl. almost immediately, you grabbed the knife out of his hand, mumbling, "you're cutting them all wrong,"

you both knew that wasn't true. one of the perks of having grown up with may was that peter was a fantastic cook. he'd been doing this sort of stuff forever. you needed to get better at excuses.

he gently laid his hand over yours to stop you and said your name softly, pleadingly. a long pause. you complied.

"it's just that," you started with a sigh, and dropped the knife, "you're my best friend peter, and i know that being spiderman means a lot to you," hesitation creeps up as you get to the actual issue. peter senses a 'but' coming. you look at him.

"but you come home every night with bruises everywhere, in pain, and i know you say that they'll go away in the morning and they do but," you're rambling now, he doesn't stop you.

"you have to see it from my perspective, i-" another sigh, you look away, "i get scared, peter."

oh. you were worried for him. he wonders how he didn't realise that before. that time he came home with a stab wound and you looked like you were going to cry he thought you were nauseous at the sight of blood. peter was an idiot.

"i know i shouldn't but i dont like the thought of you getting beat up every night." you were talking with your hands now, "imagine how you would feel if i came home with bruises all over my body and told you not to worry and that i'll be fine in a couple hours." you looked at him again. there was a sort of pain in your eyes. peter wishes it weren't there.

"it doesn't feel good peter. and you assume that i'm supposed to be okay with it?" you took a deep breath and closed your eyes, turning back to the strawberries. your hands were shaking.

peter thought about it. about what you'd said. you were scared for him and he understood that. it couldn't have been easy to be with someone like him. but he couldn't very well abandon spiderman. it was a part of him now. he knew that you knew that, but at the same time, he understood your point.

he thought about how he'd feel if the roles were reversed. if you came home with the type of wounds he did every night, he would be terrified. he couldn't blame you, of course he couldn't.

but he was spiderman, he had a responsibility, an unspoken vow to this city. he had opportunities and powers that no one else did, and he wanted to do good with it.

he hadn't asked for it, but he still had it. if he gave up being spiderman, he didn't think his conscience would let him live with it.

"i'm not asking you not to be spiderman," you spoke, finding your voice, "of course i won't do that. i'm just saying..." you trailed off, unsure of what you wanted and whether you were allowed to have it.

peter took both your hands into his, silently begging you to look at him. you did.

"i know what you're saying, and i understand. i don't blame you, i get where you're coming from and i promise, i'll be fine," he said, softly. he knew you were anxious about his safety.

"i can't give up being spiderman, and i know that's not what you're saying, but you have to understand, i can't not do it, it's a part of me, and i swear i will be more careful," his brown eyes bore into yours, willing you to understand. you blinked and unconsciously looked to the floor.

"but what if, being careful isn't enough one day? what if it isn't just some robbers or burglars but some other things? what if it's one of those aliens or mutants or something and you can't defend yourself? what am i supposed to do then, pete?"

you closed your eyes again, trying to stop the tears. peter's heart was tearing itself knowing that he was the reason for them. how could he tell you that him being the cause for your tears hurt more than any knife in the world?

"hey, look at me," he said, searching for your eyes. you shook your head but looked up at him anyway, the tears in your lashes resolutely not giving in to gravity.

"nothing is going to happen to me. i've handled stuff like that, you know. i know you're worried and upset but i promise, nothing will happen. you need to trust me, okay? we're going to be fine. please, I need you to trust me."

he said your name like it's the last time he'll ever get to, not in a way a friend is supposed to.

you sniffed, "i trust you, i do. it's this city that i don't trust," you steeled yourself, "but if you're sure, and you believe we'll be fine, then i do too."

he cracked a smile then, and pulled you in for a hug. a tight one. neither of you let go for quite a few minutes. you relished in it.

"god, okay i know i'm being silly, i'm sorry," you said after you'd pulled away, rubbing at your eyes.

"you're not being silly, don't be sorry. it's completely okay and valid. don't ridicule your thoughts, you're allowed to feel," peter said, in a scold-ish manner that he'd no doubt learnt from may.

"and please step away from the strawberries, and go back to butchering your so-called 'cake'," he said with a teasing smile, bumping his hips into yours to move you back to the bowl of pancake mix.

you scoffed incredulously, back into your playful demeanor, "excuse you, i would have perfected this pancake-cake if i weren't feeling sleepy right now, so, unfortunately for you, you won't get to taste this deliciousness, whenever i do get to make it,"

"oh, what a tragedy, i won't get to torture my tastebuds with whatever concoction you manage to brew up,"

you shoved at him, not that he moved an inch, and grabbed the plate of cut strawberries.

"just for that, i'm gonna eat these strawberries in bed using your pillow as a table, and you know i can be a very messy eater," you laughed like an evil sorcerer and ran towards the bedroom.

peter, horrified at the thought of sleeping on a sticky pillow, ran after you, forgetting that he had sticky hands himself. (pun intended, i'm sorry i couldn't not do it)

"come back here you!"

the pancake mix in the bowl, the half pack of strawberries waiting to be cut, and the anxiety were all left forgotten back in the kitchen.

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orionhere · 1 year

Text

Noctis' affection story is so domestic and chaotic I honestly can't believe it (well, as domestic as you can with Noctis)

I often find myself giggling and snorting bc he's such a fun guy. He has Kamui's personality but more violent (So a mix between Kamui & Camu?) and also a ✨HIMBO✨

He attac, he protecc, but most importantly, he can bake

SPOILER from his affection story below:

(This became so long lmao I really love his interaction with Skk)

Important note: I can only read a little of chinese & with help of translator lol, so I'm so sorry if there's some mistranslation. Also his affection story is after Sands of Wrath event, so beware of spoilers from the main chapter!

Skk and Noctis work part-time in a store (bar?) on Pure Zone as a bartender and chef respectively. Pure Zone is an area that is safe for the human environment because of the blue Tower that purifies the Punishing Virus (Spiral of Chronos chapter).

Turns out it was because Nikola asked the Skk to "take a break" by helping out at the conservation area. Also to gain more publicity with the people in the Pure Zone.

With how famous Skk is, it's easier to attract customers' attention.

"Customer A: Your smile please."

"Customer B: And don't forget, the most important thing is to add a little bit of love."

Noctis being a knight in shining armor always meddles in the middle to stop the customers from pestering Skk too much lmao

After the store closed, Skk and Noctis tried to make their specialties. In this case, Noctis tried to make his special homemade hash browns and Skk tried to make a special drink. Both of them exchanged their "creation" and tried it together.

Hilariously, it ended in failure lmao

"So sour!! Commandant, what did you add to this drink?!"

"Yours too!! There's enough sugar on this hash brown to last the store for a year!"

Not believing the other's comment, they tried to taste their own dish.

" …. Let's just throw them…"

Noctis makes Skk a personal dish for lunch. When a customer saw the dish, they wanted Noctis to make it for them. But Noctis refuses.

"No no no, this is a private meal. We don't sell it in our store."

"Just a little bit please?"

"No means no. And don't make things difficult for Commandant here. This guy had a busy day and didn't have time to eat!"

Also, Noctis used all the ingredients that the boss just brought back to make Skk's meal (more cursing from the boss but he ignored it & ate together with Skk lmao)

Then we have a Karen here (lol) who asks where the chef is. The name is Sykes (I think). Said the "homeless pancakes" (?) that the store sells are not the same thing that he used to eat when he was wandering and accused the store of fraud. Many customers are afraid of Sykes or refuse to involve themselves with Sykes. This caused the store's income to decrease.

OKAY BUT THERE'S THIS SCENE WHEN SYKES WANT TO INTIMIDATE SKK BUT NOCTIS STANDS BETWEEN THEM TO HIDE SKK. BUT NOCTIS IS SO TALL, SKK NEED TO STAND ON TIPTOE SO THEY COULD PEEK OVER NOCTIS' SHOULDER AND CONTINUE TO ASK SYKES TO GIVE THEM A WEEK ASDFJSKKS

More Skk & Noctis' chaotic kitchen shenanigans

Noctis couldn't form the mixture like in the recipe with a mold, so Skk suggested using his hand to manually shape the mixture.

"Are you trying to choke someone to death…"

Skk went to Noctis' side and helped him mold the mixture by grabbing his hand and instructing him step by step which make Noctis blush.

Skk wipes the crumbs and flour from Noctis' cheeks with a towel hshshshshshs-

A customer asks Noctis if he could 'surprise' them. Not knowing the meaning, he asks Skk and they replied that the customer want another dish. Noctis offers his homemade hash brown which Skk asks if Noctis finally mastering the said dish.

"Huh? Nope. I don't have the time. Just let them eat that poison-"

Skk then proceed to cover his face with a towel and rub it as hard as they could lmao. "Comm *—mph!* – mandant! Stop! I *gasp* can’t b–breathe! *pant*"

That night, Noctis asks the boss to use the Bluefin Tuna that the boss brought back. He thought that Noctis gonna use the fish for Sykes' dish, but turns out it was for Skk's dinner. More cursing from the boss (HE ALWAYS TRIES HIS BEST & USING THE BEST INGREDIENTS FOR SKK'S MEAL IM CRYING)

Skk was worried that Noctis was pushing himself. But Noctis refute that, saying that he likes the challenge and enjoys making the pancake. Then Noctis asks back how Skk was holding up with how they have to smile and chat to customers all day as a bartender. Skk assure him it was part of the job, as long the customer isn't Sykes.

"That's pretty tough. …… Want to switch? I'd like to try to manage the bar too."

"Okay, try to smile."

"Noctis was a little flustered but managed to squeeze out a smile at your request. It feels like staring at a great white shark."

(Imagine you were drinking in a bar, and ask the bartender for a smile. This is how he smiles at you)

(Gorgeous)

Remember when Skk tried to make their own special drink? Turns out they make an adjustment by adding 40 shots thanks to a customer who suggested it to them. Drunk Skk

"40 shots?! Isn't that the same as wine …… OK, I'll ask around tomorrow to find which genius suggests such an idea."

Noctis then give Skk his special homemade hash brown. But because Sykes' matters, he doesn't have time to improve his dish.

Which results Skk throwing up.

"How is it, Commandant? After you vomited it out, do you feel more awake now?"

Drunk and angry Skk swings a chair at Noctis.

"Who on earth came up with the idea to make Commandant drink 40 shots?! Hey hey hey, Commandant… You can’t be serious, can you?!"

This scared Noctis to the point whenever Skk asks him what happen that night, he always tries to cover it up.

Next day, they went out to ask others about the recipe. They met an old man who used to be a part of the wandering group with Sykes. Turns out the homeless pancake that Sykes want is just some various ingredients mixed together into a weird mixture and baked into pitch black. During that time, canned food and fresh ingredients are very precious and even a luxury.

The old man gestured to Skk to try it, but before they can put it in their mouth, Noctis eats it.

"....Commandant… It's better for you to not try it."

"How can I know what's wrong with it if I don't try it myself?"

More coughing and Noctis pat pat Skk's back

Knowing that Skk is a bit tired from today's walk, Noctis wash the dishes by himself.

Skk was a bit down after finding out about the homeless cake origin, so Noctis tried to cheer Skk up in his own way lol.

"Skk is really kind. If it was someone else, I would probably have said that this is none of my business, and then I would not care about it anymore. After all, thinking about this kind of thing will only add more trouble."

"How is this adding more trouble…"

"That's why I say that Commandant is very kind. You tried your best to do everything for the people on earth, but you still refuse to let yourself go on this matter. If it were me, I wouldn't care at all."

Noctis and Skk wash dishes together.

"This is a pain. Are you gonna help me wash the dishes or not?"

"But you're washing it right now?"

"No way! I don't want to enjoy such good thing alone! So you do it too!"

"…Commandant, if you keep pushing me, I'm gonna stuck in the wall. Tsk, why is the area around the sink so cramped?!"

It was time for Sykes to come back. Noctis finally finish the dish and present it to Sykes with the same recipe from the old man from before. But Noctis refuse to make it as black as the recipe says. "However, this store will never sell that kind of pitch-black food. It is our store principle to make it carefully with the right ingredients and utensils."

Tldr Sykes being a stubborn jerk shouting about 'the real homeless pancake' is the sole reason they're still alive & what Noctis did is just a gimmick to attract more customers.

"We are literally eating all of that stuff. Are they only worthy of being a gimmick to attract customers in the pure zone? Should the past just lie in our memory and become mere talk? Should we just pretend that nothing has happened?!" Basically just Sykes can't let go of the past.

Skk promises all of them to fight hard so they can retake the earth and the Great Arcadia Retreat won't happen again.

Sykes still being a stubborn bastard refuse to let this matter go and tried to attack Skk. But Noctis just stop him in time. It ended up with a bar fight lol

On their last day as a part-timer, while waiting for the boss to arrive in the morning, they decide to make their signature again. This time it was a success.

Skk and Noctis give the recipe to the boss so he can add it to the menu. He asks what it's going to be called.

"Vegetable Storm."

"Super Hash Brown!"

"I definitely don't want that kind of name on my menu. How about calling it '<Name>' and 'Noctis'? It's a good combination. And it added some emotional value."

Because of the last bar fight, they need to replace some furniture. They change the door to a new one, but Noctis painted graffiti on it because the color doesn't match the store. Skk also bought a lucky cat from Kowlong but Noctis modified it into a shark because it doesn't match the store's style. (Lucky shark??😂)

Noctis daydreams about life after Punishing virus is gone.

"These past few weeks felt like a dream. No missions, no enemies, no emergencies, no equipment for maintenance, not even weapons to use. Every day I'm with Commandant, taking orders, cooking, chatting…"

"Are you happy, Noctis?"

"It’s not bad, I’m very happy! I was so happy that I actually didn't want to go back."

"Commandant, do you think we can enjoy this leisurely life for the rest of our lives after the Punishing Virus is gone?"

"Of course we can, we already have the Pure Zone, and one day we will retake the earth completely. And then, you could do whatever you want to do."

"Then let's make a fortune with '<Name> and Noctis'! We could open a store, and then I'll let Commandant be the boss. Then you'll be in charge to manage the bar!" He even plans to open many branches, even on Babylonia (THAT'S SO SWEET WTH-)

The boss being a savage to Noctis lmao.

"Our store will always welcome you back, <Name>. As for Noctis, forget it. I just want you to know that no matter what happens, no matter how it ends, as long as this store exists, your aprons will always be there."

"Don't worry, Commandant is in my hands. When it's all over, we'll definitely come back."

"Maybe at that time, they will no longer be the Commandant of Gray Raven and a member of the Cerberus team. But just '[Name] and Noctis'." (I'M GETTING EMOTIONAL AT THIS LINE FCK)

All in all, this is really a fun and heartwarming story. I haven't finished Sands of Wrath chapter yet, so Noctis' interaction with Skk really caught me off guard. There's still a lot of his interaction that I couldn't fit in here because that's gonna be too long-

Also in the Sands of Wrath chapter, Skk and Noctis called each other 'partner' (In JP dub, he calls Skk 'aibou') I LOVE HIM SO MUCH ASDHFKA😭😭

Noctis is a malewife material you can't change my mind✨💕

#pgr #punishing gray raven #punishing: gray raven #pgr cn #pgr spoiler #pgr noctis #orion shittalk #he's a fcking malewife material that would fight for you #a himbo that can cook & care for you? im sold #in main ch he even attack vera & no.21 thinking that you're being attacked #AND ALSO PROTECT YOU FROM FLASHBANG GRENADE AND BRIDAL CARRIED YOU

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peachybutch · 8 months

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How Good the RvB Main Cast is at Cooking, Ranked from Best to Worst

1. Donut

Donut gives off the vibe of one of those gay men with a baking channel on YouTube. This man's out here rolling up to the red team monthly dinner club with frenched rack of lamb with a pistachio mint crust and wine accompaniment, then earl grey souffle with creme anglaise for dessert. He spends hours experimenting with new and interesting ingredients. Remy Ratatouille, send-you-back-to-rural-France ass man. Donut's food fucks hard and everyone knows it.

2. Grif

You really think my man Grif loves food as much as he does and doesn't know how to make it? C'mon. He doesn't, like, relish the act of cooking as much as he does having a good plate of food at the end of it. And he's not typically much for sharing. But my guy makes a damn good short rib and bechamel lasagna. Give him the day to let something slow cook, and god damn.

3. Wash

Wash has been living off of MREs for probably his entire adult life, but I feel like he's got a few dishes he can whip out for a date night, or if he's feeling fancy. He knows how to read a recipe, and he has a pretty good idea of what flavors go together to make something good. He probably has a really nice papardelle with vinho verde sauce that he has sitting around in the back of his head for special occasions.

4. Tucker

Okay, Tucker isn't a bad cook by any means, ok? He's great with breakfast food specifically. It's just that he isn't especially fancy about it. He was probably, like, a line cook at Denny's in high school, so all his food tastes like food you would get at Denny's. Which isn't a bad thing! You would just never call Denny's "fine dining". He has his niche, and he does it well, and he never feels even a little bit inclined to do anything different or better.

5. Church (Alpha)

Church isn't much of a foodie right off the bat, but someone's got to pack Caboose's lunch, and he ends up learning how to cook fairly well after that. After a certain point, he figures out how to make things from scratch--mostly things like chicken nuggets, mac and cheese, pancakes.

6. Simmons

I feel like Simmons mostly lives off of shit like green smoothies and homemade granola. Like, hardcore, low carb, vegan, all organic, high protein diet. And, like, it doesn't taste BAD. But it definitely isn't the kind of thing you bring to the red team dinner club. He does make a really nice sunbutter brownie that he has to hide from Grif.

7. Caboose

Caboose has been banned from using any objects in the kitchen that involve a heat source--which isn't HIS fault! How was he supposed to know that you're supposed to take the spoon OUT of the mac and cheese before putting it in the microwave? That's just a recipe for a cold spoon! Anyways, he manages just fine without the microwave, thank you very much. He can make ants on a log like it's nobody's business. Cleaning up afterwards is another matter entirely.

8. Carolina

Carolina is one of the most competent individuals you will ever meet. She could kill you in under a minute, in 30 different ways, and that's just with her bare hands. The fourth time Sarge tries to recruit her into red team is by inviting her to the monthly dinner club. She shows up empty handed, and when Donut very politely asks what she brought, she replies that it's very interesting that they expected the only woman on the team to go all out with cooking. They move on. Carolina spent 5 hours in the kitchen this afternoon trying to figure out how to use the oven. But they don't need to know that.

9. Tex

Now, listen. Tex can't be called a bad cook, precisely, because that would require she cook for herself or others. Which is something she does not do. That's what Church is for, isn't it?

10. Sarge

Sarge refuses to step foot in a kitchen after the fifth shouting match about how flamethrowers are not a universally recognized kitchen appliance.

11. Church (Epsilon)

One time, while blue team is shooting the wind, Caboose asks Epsilon what his favorite breakfast food is. Instead of calling Caboose a dumbass, as per usual, he instead goes into extensive detail about how he eats computer keys like cereal. Caboose tries it. It isn't very good.

#pb.txt #rvb #red vs blue #donut rvb #church rvb #wash rvb #im not fucking tagging everyone #i am so fucking hungry thinking about short rib and bechamel lasagna #long post

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proseka-headcanons · 1 month

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hi i'm the guy who wrote a whole ass essay about my fav ships, with Nene as an unwilling match-maker. headcanons for the Shinonomes bc i love them;

- Akito can draw, courtesy of having an artist as a sister. Like, if he decided to pursue art instead of music, he could. His art is almost on par with Ena's. I think that when VBS was too lazy to do a choreography for a song they want to upload on social medias, they'd make Akito make an MV for it lol (ofc the others would help him make it, n25 style)

- I think it's pretty much canon that the Shinonomes have sweet tooth, especially for pancakes and cheesecakes, but i want to expand on that; New dessert shop down the street? they'd already bought the entire menu by the end of the week. New dessert recipe on trend? when Shinonodad (i forgor his name) came home, the kitchen was messy af and the culprits were on the sofa, eating said dessert while watching netflix or smth.

- Adding to that, everytime it's like, Valentine's, or White Day, or any celebration day where cafes and shops would have like, couple discounts, Ena and Akito would pretend to be couple just to get that discount or free dessert. it's the only time they were nice to each other. Mizuki caught them once. She took a photo of them and sent it to the Kamiyama gang gc. An died laughing. Nene said that's actually genius.

- Everytime N25 had a meeting, at one point they'll get the honor of witnessing the fight of the Shinonomes first hand. like, it's so common for the Shinonomes to fight in the dead of night that at this point, Mizuki already prepared popcorns.

- None of them are a morning person. At 6 AM every morning, you will witness the waking up for school Akito and just finished school Ena. They either stare at each other before having a mutual understanding, or the other would somehow trigger the other and they would have a boderline almost physical fight.

- also yes they have fist-fighted each other for at least 5 times in their life. And i just know one of the fight was bc one of them ate the other's cheesecake.

- Akito is trans-masc and Ena is trans-fem. They traded genders.

- They also traded clothes.

- When they came out, Shinei (shinonodad, i remembered his name finally) actually doesn't really care. for how much he's an asshole, he still loves his kids. Shinei just goes "oh, ok" and hugged them. Shinei's not the best parent but he's trying.

- Shinei actually bought Akito a binder. Akito cried.

- WLW and MLM hostility. that's them.

- Akito knows how to style hair. He taught Ena how to do it.

- ENA GOES TO VBS' CONCERTS AND AKITO ALWAYS WAITS FOR N25'S SONGS PREMIERES. they'd rather die than admit that tho.

ok yeah this is getting long enough. i love the Shinonomes sm.

-- also can I call myself unofficial mod Tsukasa from now on :D?

i love. everything. about this. also call yourself whatev you want (im a lil confused about it but as long as no ones going after my name(iwillfindyou(iamtherealakitoshinonome))). ive read so many sad headcannons about akito being able to draw really well, and ena getting so upset about it that he just stopped all together. dont get me wrong, i am an angst enjoyer but man. one of the serious fights theyve had was over akito supposedly "stealing" the only thing ena enjoyed. :( - 🥞

OUGHFHFHHFHFHFGHGHG.... this is all so real I'm sobbing - mod ena

#mod akito #prjsk #project sekai colorful stage #proseca #prosekai #prsk #project sekai #proseka #project sekai colorful stage featuring hatsune miku #project sekai headcanons #proseka headcanons #shinonome ena #akito shinonome #shinonome akito #ena shinonome #tagged by mod rui #mod ena

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here-for-the-chaos · 1 year

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Very short and not beta'd fic!!! Before things get inevitably worse. Pls give me some constructive critique this is my first ever posted fic. This is dedicated to @qfliporiana cause they filled me with canon denying love of the two of them.

It wasn’t until around 9:30 that morning that Charlie had realized he was wearing Mariana’s glasses. He had been going about his tasks of the morning, making coffee, checking around the house for any traps that had been set (or mines he had misplaced), collecting all of Flippa’s toys that were strewn around the living room into the toybox along the wall, and beginning breakfast. He had to remind himself to triple the pancake recipe. His cooking had never been very… tasty, but he would try for them. When passing by the mirror near the door, only then did he notice the round edges of the frames, and how just a bit blurry everything was. He brought and hand up and slipped them off his face, unable to suppress something of a fond smile. Definitely Mariana’s. Maybe the reason he hadn’t noticed was that he never had to think of it before. A few nights ago, he and husband’s beds were separated. It was for the best, really, them not sleeping together. (Aside from the nights they did, but that wasn’t the point.) But now it was permanent. It was a hard night, one Charlie didn’t like to remember, but ever since then, the beds stayed pushed together. And the two pairs of glasses rested on the same nightstand. Despite him saying otherwise at every opportunity, Charlie didn’t hate it. Not one bit.

He ran his fingers over the rims. They had cracks and ridges, but were still charming in a way. The brunet sighed to himself. God, all of this was so… Domestic. Was that the right word? Was that how you would describe raising a child with another man, being a husband? Was that how you describe fixing up an exploded house with said man? A comfortable living room. A small but well used kitchen. An indoor farm with all of Flippa’s favorite plants and food. A ladder and stairway lined with family photos, or anything they found amusing. A child’s room with drawings across the walls. A bedroom that once was cold as ice, now warmed by two people sharing a bed. Yes, that was what it was.

The sound of a door creaking open drew Charlie’s attention, a bed wrangled Mariana leaning on the doorway. He wore a loose gold sweatshirt, with boxy glasses slid all the way down his nose bridge. Short dark hair hung down in his face, making Charlie chuckle at the adorableness stupidity of it.

“Charlie, creo que tienes mi-” Mariana was cut off by a yawn, as he rubbed his eyes and fixed the glasses on his face. Charlie could guess enough of what he meant and held up the pair in his hands.

“We switched,” the American chuckled, leaning back on the kitchen counter top as they swapped the spectacles back to their proper owners, “I took yours.” Charlie slid the square glasses onto his face, and watched as the world came back into clear focus. Grabbing the translator he spotted on the counter, he changed the settings so that whatever was spoken would be read out in the other language. Sure, the both of them had picked up enough of the other language to get what they were saying, especially Mariana, but it was better safe than sorry.

Mariana waltzed over to the other side of the countertop and leaned forward to face the slime, translator between them, and quickly took a hold of his hand. Charlie cocked an eyebrow, a green blush rising to his cheeks. He nervously laughed and averted his gaze, “Never knew you one for contact outside of shitty sex,” he quipped awkwardly. The Mexican scoffed and shook his head, sending a confusing pang of guilt through Charlie, as if disappointing Mariana hurt. Huh, weird.

Their eyes suddenly locked, intense, and firm. Mariana began to speak, “No sé muy bien cómo decir esto. Todo esto empezó porque nos dijeron que cuidáramos a un niño para el que no estábamos preparados. Y lamento lo que pasó, y lamento no haber estado ahí. Tengo mucho miedo de que algo así vuelva a pasar, pero lo intento. Intento ser un buen padre y un buen marido. Sé que tú también lo estás intentando. Y creo que está yendo a alguna parte. Espero que así sea. Así que, gracias por estar ahí. Y gracias por intentarlo de nuevo, aunque sólo sea por Flippa. Que sepas que no es mi única razón.”

Charlie blinked, the cogs turning in his brain halting. Similarly, the translator whirled uselessly, the speed of Mariana’s talking making it unable to translate. He dumbly tipped his head to the side, “What?”

Mariana shook his head, an annoyed yet warm spreading across his face. He paused for a moment, before seemingly shortening his thoughts into 3 words, “Te amo, perra.”

Charlie’s blush deepened as the translator read out “I love you, bitch.” He couldn’t help from smiling himself, and was about to explain how he was absolutely not a bitch-

“Uh, is something burning?” Mariana muttered, breaking eye contact. Charlie’s head shot up and he scrambled over to the stove, smoke beginning to bellow up from scorched pancakes. With his correct glasses on, it became clear to him that what looked like the 360° notch on the stove top was the 660° notch. He lowered his head in embarrassment as Mariana’s charming loud laugh filled the air, sticking the torched pan into the cold water filled sink. “Let’s just heat up some Eggo waffles…”

#they make me unwell #<3 #qsmp #qsmp slimecicle #qsmp mariana #fliporiana #slimeriana

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dreaminginthedeepsouth · 9 months

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INSIDE A BARN last month, a couple of hours after the rehearsal for the “Heart of the Matter” pageant, several dozen performers from around the world — paid puppeteers, interns, community volunteers — presented their proposed circus acts. Schumann typically reviews and critiques the sketches.

Most of the acts had a whimsical tone. A man imitating a bee (collapsing bee colonies the inspiration) did a frenetic waggle around a cardboard city that transformed itself into a tangle of dancing urbanites. An orca ambushed yachting billionaire puppets. When somber-looking tree figures appeared with a narrator reading facts about boreal forests versus the more flammable monoculture ones burning in nearby Canada, Schumann became agitated.

“It’s too cliché, something everyone already knows,” he shouted. “You have to stop using so many words and solve things puppetry-wise.” Then he jumped to his feet and started moving people and puppets around. He had puppeteers throw the trees and then dance with them, causing some confusion.

“It’s what you do, not what you say,” he said. “It’s puppetry, not preaching.”

He told them he would return in a half-hour to see a revision. Then, as dinnertime approached, he excused himself to help the kitchen staff make potato pancakes — a recipe from his war-torn childhood.

With admirable control, the puppeteers discussed how to rework their savaged piece, each giving the others time to suggest solutions. It was a utopian vision of collaboration, agile and practical — and typical of how the company functions.

“Peter has a strong directional voice,” said Ziggy Bird, 26, a company member who took notice of Schumann’s work in a theater history class at Temple University. “It’s never personal and some of the most beautiful moments come from frustration, which can be a kick in the pants.”

[from comments]

In 1970, Father Daniel Berrigan was on the FBI's 10 most wanted list for his anti-war activities which led to a conviction and then his failure to show up for prison. A major event supporting Berrigan, after he became a refugee, was held in Ithaca.

The FBI was there waiting. The question was whether Berrigan would appear and speak to the thousands in the audience.

I was a stage hand and watched Berrigan enter the stage, unrecognized as he wore a motorcycle helmet. He removed the helmet to cheers and gave a speech. The FBI probably figured that they would avoid a riot and grab him as he left the building.

But then, from the back of the huge arena (Barton Hall), came chanting, weird music and lights. It was The Bread and Puppet Theater to the rescue. The ten foot puppets moved about as weirdness took over. Berrigan was alone on the stage, when the giant puppets came on stage and swirled around him in a spiral. I think I was the only one who noticed, from my stage hand perspective, as Berrigan slipped inside one of the puppets as the swirl unwound itself and kept chanting as they left the arena.

It took the FBI another seven months to catch up to Father Berrigan and send him to prison. I believe that this was one of the greatest puppet shows in history.

Yet, this is a story that few know about. Berrigan really was on the FBI's 10 Most Wanted list. and The Bread and Puppet Theater squirrelled him away to safety.

#Bread and Puppet Theatre #theatre #Peter Schumann #puppets #puppetry #story #storytelling

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slocumjoe · 1 year

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could i get your take on what the companions (or just my favorite boy X6's) top 10 fave candies/foods would be in a modern AU?

anon you are in luck, because I am constantly thinking about the diets and eating habits of my blorbos

The numbered list isn't in any particular order, it's just so I don't have to manually count each point

What the companions would eat if not in a post apocalypse

Cait; Wouldn't have a taste for fancier cuisine. Eats more...hick-ish. I can say that because I was a hick with this kind of diet, growing up. Has a taste for filling, cheap, low-effort food...think lots of fast food, but "healthier" fast food. Like Chipotle, Panera, etc. Can cook, doesn't often, but will if she has a craving. Savory or tart tastes. She tends to eat lighter than you'd expect.

Blueberry brownie anything, favors dark chocolate in general

Submarine sandwiches, anything with pickles

Key lime pie

Salt and vinegar chips and thinks critics of such chips are cowards

Peach Redbull, any energy drinks though

Storebought hummus and Doritos, has been seen eating hummus with just a spoon though

Blueberry bread pudding. Simple to make, fun to eat, very comforting. Buys her bread already stale from a local bakery, has a guy to hook her up with the old shit

Seafood chowder

Sausages in any capacity. Jerky sticks, breakfast sausage, etc. Loves chorizo.

Honey buns from the gas station

Curie; Health nut, she eats like every influencer claims they eat like. Only, Curie actually eats like that. Lots of fresh foods and whole grains, little red meat. However, Curie makes a point to have foods that other health nuts would condemn, thinks its really important to not label any food as "bad." So, she balances between health nut and normal person. Her taste leans toward bright and/or sweet. Dislikes red meat.

Salmon breakfast wraps

Tropical fruit smoothies, eats so much pineapple

Iced tea, favors raspberry. Never seen without an iced tea of some kind

Halibut tacos, likes red cabbage and a fuck ton of lemon on it. Soft shells all the way

Bananas foster

Whipped brie dip, eats it with anything but loves it on apples, basically dessert

Lemon pepper grilled chicken and rice

So many salads, loves that you can just throw shit in a bowl and call it a recipe. Likes strawberries and almonds

Lemon poppyseed muffins

Shrimp and bitter melon stir fry

Danse; mixed bag. One on hand, small town diner tastes. Simple, cheap, good ol' American food. On the other, he's doomed to be a soldier in every universe he's in, so...maybe he picks up some tastes and dishes from places he's toured. Gets a weird pallate that shoots in all directions and makes you wonder what it's like in that thick skull. One day he's a good American boy with pancakes and steak, the next he's eating cake mix dry and drinking tahini from a flask.

Anything BBQ, but a pulled pork devotee

Hot coffee so heavily creamed and sugars it looks like milk. He likes the twix combo of chocolate, shortbread, and caramel flavors

Prepackaged baked goods a la Hostess, fucks up little Debbie oatmeal cookies

Apple and pecan pie

Menemen—Turkish dish, scrambled eggs with tomatoes, bell peppers, spices to taste, and (controversially) onions. Adds sausage and cheese, eats it with a fork or spoon (its meant to be eaten with bread)

Khachapuri—Georgian cheesy bread with egg. Eats with a knife and fork. (its meant to be eaten with the bread crust)

Smores pop tarts

Beef and potato stew

Rice bowl with fried egg and avocado, bonus points if it has bacon

Straight cookie dough/brownie/cake batter, usually when he's black out drunk and cannot shame himself out of eating raw egg products.

Deacon; Very childhood comfort food. Y'know, things you had as a kid, but probably grew out of a bit? Eats out of gas stations/takeout frequently. Very open flavor pallete, has tried everything he's had the chance to. Likes one-handed food, stuff you can have the other hand free for. Doesn’t really have a 'theme', has broad horizons for his diet. Likes lighter, mild flavors, though. He eats lightly and on the go a lot.

Hot/corn dogs, taste in hot dog toppings varies

Egg salad sandwiches

French fries and vanilla ice cream, classic combo

Mango sticky rice

Cornbread with any accompaniments. Likes honey or chili, thinks if you have a drink with cornbread, you ain't a real cornhead

Penne alla vodka

Cucumber salad. This could mean a salad with cucumbers, that trending Asian recipe where you cut the cumber so its springy, or eating a cucumber like a hotdog.

Fried mushrooms

Usually just drinks water but will have gator/powerade when he's working. Likes purple flavor

Captain crunch cereal, loves all cereal though. Prefers the kibble stuff to the berries. Starts philosophical debates about the morality of Trix commercials vs Lucky Charms commercials

Gage; His favorite foods reflect his upbringing. Coastal swamp cuisine, cheap and made in bulk. Take Danse's pallate and hyperlocalize it, and then lower the budget by a good amount. Things he grew up eating. Would gradually replace his favorites with pricier, 'less embarrassing' dishes, distances himself from his origins. However, takes care to not looked too loaded. Smokey and savory flavors are his thing, likes more spice than people expect.

Doberge cake, which is layered with pudding, often half-chocolate and half-lemon

Red beans and rice, with stewed pork if they could afford it

Blackened fish of any kind, liked it with cilantro-lime rice

Steak with potatoes and/or eggs

Chronic iced tea drinker like Curie, though he prefers the bitter kinds

Scallops

Brussels sprouts defender and will fight for their honor

Peaches

Was introduced to curry during a business meeting/outing. Could drink that shit from a glass, has it with potatoes and porkchops.

Lobster anything. This is one of those 'less embarresing' things, but he genuinely enjoys a good lobster roll. Even if he prefers a freshly-caught lobster bisque. Again, something he had growing up, something he pushes away.

Hancock; Similar to Deacon, but favors fatty, greasy food. No, it's not the drugs, that's just his metabolism. He's a skinny twink, always starving, can never put on weight. Eats as much as Danse, who is a big guy and needs more calories than most. He's really into street food and foreign dishes, won't eat at a restaurant if they speak fluent English or have good customer service. IYKYK. Very comfort food heavy, lots of "this would slap with Netflix at 2 am"

A classic oxtail, mac and cheese, and collard green take out combo

Any and all American-chinese take out, usually gets eggplant tofu with chow mein and cream cheese rangoons

"Walking tacos", those things where you open a small bag of chips and dump White People taco makings in. Probably just tips the whole thing into his mouth

Yakitori, Japanese chicken skewers, popular bar food

Bloody Mary cocktails

Pizza, will fight for the honor of pineapple. Would really be into how Brazil does pizza

Frozen yogurt and ice cream, piles with toppings

Breakfast sandwiches or wraps. Egg, meat, cheese, doesn't matter the time nor specifics.

Jam donuts, loves cherry fillings

Puppy chow/muddy buddies, chex cereal covered in chocolate and powdered sugar. Eats his weight in them if not careful

MacCready; forces himself to learn how to cook for Duncan's sake, but for himself...good God. It's horrible. Eats like garbage. Would never drink water if not to set an example. Take out, frozen food, so much candy and soda. After Duncan, broadens his horizons. Finds he really likes soups. Just throw shit in a pot and it works. Eats on a budget, so that's a life-saver. Doesn't have a preferred flavor pallete, aside from his love of candy.

Meat lover's pizza. Thinks pineapple has no place on pizza

Used to drink Mountain Dew and diet coke, replaced it with iced teas and more organic fruit juices for the sake of his teeth

Chicken soup, either from a can, or homemade. Either way, slaps. If homemade, blends veggies for a hidden veggie stock. For him, Duncan is a lot better at eating veggies, MacCready needs to trick himself.

Sour rainbow ropes

Cookie crisp cereal, thinks whoever came up with it deserved the sloppiest head. Incredible design, no notes

Cheese and sour cream chips

Famous Amos cookies

Eggo waffles

Gnocchi is God to him. Its superior to all noodles and makes your Shit In The Fridge soup 1000 times better.

Rice pudding is cheap, easy, and a surprisingly efficient sweet-tooth satisfier. Makes it with pumpkin spice mix or chocolate.

Nick; Home-cooked meals all the way. Could kill himself with cheese and die happy. Lots of easy meals and snacking so he can keep working, but will treat himself to a nice, hard-earned dinner when he has the time and energy. Likes himself the smokey, the fresh, or the sour. Probably knows all the best sub shops in the city, probably in a turf war with regulars of rival shops. Jewish delicatessens are like church to him.

Lasanga. Most of his freezer space is lasagna. Eats so much of it. He's lactose intolerant. It hurts but it hurts so good

Latkes. Fried potato things, kind of like hashbrowns, except the potato is mashed/ground instead of grated. And yes. Also pastrami. But those little potato bitches...mmmph.

Red velvet muffins with cream cheese frosting.

Fried cheese in any capacity

A prosciutto, arugula, brie, and fig sandwich

Pickled pearl onions

Cobb salad

Black coffee. Temp doesn't matter, because he's going to forget it until its room temp.

Has been known to enter fugue states and consume an absurd amount of Chicago style hot dogs

Scones or just plain bread with butter and jams

Piper; Broke college student trying to make it as a reporter. Her tastebuds are fucked, they salivate not for flavor, or texture, but for those good, good low prices. Piper's diet is almost entirely snackfood or takeout. If she ever cooks, it's for Nat. But when taking care of just herself, Piper eats from a box or bag. When she does cook, it's very simple meals. Loves her carbs and her fruit flavors

Chicken Ramen with canned chicken and frozen broccoli chucked in. Also makes this for Nat

Hot cheetos, eats with chopsticks

Spaghetti and meatballs

Fruit smoothies/smoothie bowls, blends in veggies as well for the nutrition

Coka cola and anything from Fanta, loves fruit sodas

Anything carbs and I mean that. Eats a lot of bread, pasta, cakes, potatoes...they're the sweetheart of anyone on a budget.

Buffalo cauliflower, likes it more than Buffalo chicken

Chewing gum. Fruit flavors only, hates mint gum. Likes mint elsewhere, just not in gum.

Nickle-nips and other "jelly/juice in a wax package" candies. Likes the charm of it, also, free chewing wax

Suckers/lollipops, big on hard candy in general but the stick satisfies her smoking habit.

Preston; A mix of easy depression/bulk meals and dishes from his childhood. Lots of spices, cooks with a lot of straight peppers. Tends to eat his food 'raw', not made into a dish. Again, easy and quick to eat. Also tends to buy pre-prepared stuff for the same reason, buys more fruits and veggies and just eats them straight. Doesn't care about eating healthy, he just lacks energy to cook most days.

I have no choice to explain this as it has no name. Casserole dish, layer of mashed potatoes, layer of shredded or chunked chicken, layer of white breakfast gravy or brown poultry gravy, top with drop biscuits. It's buttery, its savory, it is white as snow. Easy, cheap, one ladlefull is dinner. You'll get a few meals out of it, and it's so filling you have like, five minutes before you're stuffed. I call it gut-glue.

Dirty rice

Eggs scrambled with spinach

Jollof/jambalaya

Veggies and hummus or ranch

Various fruits and berries such as grapes, cherries, blackberries, and oranges

Shakshouka, eggs poached in spicy tomato sauce and eaten with bread

Chicken biscuits, crackers dusted with, like, chicken bouillon? They taste like a chicken Ramen packet sneezed on a ritz

Slurpees/Icees/those syruped gas station ice drinks

Straight peppers, eats bell peppers like apples. Eats pickled jalapeños and scotch bonnets to feel something. Drinks the liquid in pickle jars instead of alcohol, or mixes it with gelatin and makes pickle jello.

X6-88; Pretensious rich asshole who eats like it. He rarely cooks for himself, probably has a personal chef or something. Maybe his work has their own restaurants, like Google. Eats mostly vegetables, but his favorite foods skew from "Dubai Influencer" to "12 year old who earned too much lawn mowing money and was let loose in a convenience store." So much sugar. Willy Wonka's factory is his idea of heaven and until it exists, he's an atheist.

Raw meats. Steak and tuna tartar, sashimi, and sushi

Braised duck with cherries

Nduja, a spicy pork sausage spread, has it with flatbreads

Oysters. Eats them all fancy in public, eats them from a tin with doritos at home

Anything from Hostess, Little Debbie, those brands. Fucking anything. However, would kill a man for any kind of Swiss roll

Chocolate milk

Gummies, very picky with brands, hates the harder kinds like Haribo. Wants his gummies soft as a marshmellow

Cadbury eggs

Milano dark chocolate cookies

Gushers

#fallout 4 #fo4 #paladin danse #preston garvey #nick valentine #piper wright #x6-88 #robert joseph maccready #companions react #porter gage

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