Tumgik
#i think they mean biscuit as in cookie
ace-trainer-risu · 2 years
Text
I truly believe that nona is alecto/the body for the very simple and vitally important reason that harrow and nona/alecto/the body will meet at some point and harrow will be like O immortal Body, I have kept troth with you these many long and darkling years, I have sworn my heart, worthless thing though it may be, to you, I cast my fragile and aching body at your feet (and etc etc)
and the Body will look at her with those ineffable golden eyes and open her imperfectly beautiful mouth and say, her own true voice ringing out in harrow's ears for the very first time, "Hi! I like dogs, do you like dogs? I kissed you in the mirror once. Do you want to be best friends?"
And harrow will instantly be like Ohhh :/// I'm cured. I'm not in love with her anymore. where's gideon. ianthe? anyone.
2K notes · View notes
canisalbus · 5 months
Note
I just did this, but I’m gonna do this every thanksgiving.
Split a biscuit in half, spread gravy on it. Turkey on each biscuit half, and put cranberry sauce on the turkey. Next, cut an apple in half horizontally, and cut slices horizontally, and put on the turkey as well. Put the two biscuits together like a sandwich.
.
111 notes · View notes
bonefall · 10 months
Note
mr bones did u know that some british ppl call garbage trucks binlorries
The British/English dialect is a treasure trove. They really will come out here and make a whole new word for a trash can on wheels, they're like "wheeliebin innit"
Why is the language around trash so indirect? Like, there's no "dump," it's a "tip," a dumpster is a "skip," no garbage truck, it's a "bin lorry," even "rubbish" it's like... these words are so gentle. Even Trash Can, it's "bins." Not "Toilet," it's "lou."
It sounds so clean to me, like there's a minor taboo against just calling things gross. But then like, "pissin' down" is how heavy rain gets described?? Language is weird
Funny enough what butters my jorts the most is "carboot sale." You mean Flea Market?? Why do your cars have boots, what's wrong with trunks?
49 notes · View notes
Text
Okay, so. I finally downloaded a VPN so I could watch Doctor Who on the BBC site, but even with my location set to London, it's still not working. I clicked on the little troubleshooting link (of course I'm in the UK BBC, don't you see my IP address?), and one of the suggestions was to turn off any VPNs. Is this just in case a British person forgot their IP address was set to somewhere else, and maybe the VPN I got isn't very good, or is it not possible to watch on the BBC site with a VPN at all? Is anybody out there having any luck with this, and if so, what VPN are you using? Or does anybody have any... other suggestions for somewhere else I could maybe watch Doctor Who online?
7 notes · View notes
fruitless-vain · 1 year
Text
How hard do we think it would be to make your own parrot pellet
8 notes · View notes
fazcinatingblog · 1 month
Text
What is a Bronx cheer compared to a normal cheer compared to a girl screaming TRENT TRENT TRENT AFTER THE SIREN WE WON WE WON
Tumblr media
0 notes
thekingofchungus · 1 year
Text
i like to think when i have my eye on a snack i dont have yet it starts quivering on the store shelf in fear
0 notes
the-acid-pear · 2 years
Text
Guy who only watches evil dead watching his second franchise ever: getting a lot of evil dead vibes from this...
1 note · View note
orteil42 · 4 months
Note
do you like jaffa cakes? they're called cakes but they're they're more like cookies so i think they're my favorite cookie
these guys?
Tumblr media
yeah they're sold as Pim's here and i love the raspberry ones a lot. like these are a hazard to my health i cannot be left around them
Tumblr media
i've read about the legal case that got them classified as cakes for advantageous tax reasons, which i honestly think is complete bullshit: they certainly qualify as cookies according to the criteria list i developed for Cookie Clicker. apparently some classifier AI also categorized them as cakes in 2021 which is super bullshit.
anyway while the other cookies included in Cookie Clicker's box of brand biscuits upgrade have goofy modified names (Fig gluttons, Grease's cups etc) to circumvent trademarks, the term "jaffa cake" was never trademarked which means i get to include them as-is! yes the flavor text is a combo yogscast/carl sagan reference
754 notes · View notes
50thousandeyes · 2 years
Note
one of my friends likes milk bottles and parma violets </3
biggest betrayal of my life
AND THEY HATE BOUNTIES WHAT IS WRONG WITH THEM
~🍁
hold on i gotta look something up i'm an american
what the fuck are those
0 notes
luveline · 6 months
Note
Hello! I just want to start off by saying you're an absolutely amazing writer! I've been reading your blog for two years now, I believe, or something very close to it, and I still find myself awestruck by your talent when I check your blog, which is pretty much daily!
If you're up for the prompt and if you're not too swamped with requests, could I ask for a blurb with bombshell reader x Spencer? Maybe reader makes him something really sincere and handmade? Maybe a baked good or a knitted sweater? No special occasion needed, just because he deserves it 😋
Thank you for sharing your works with us! Be well and remember to take breaks! Love you Jade!!
Thank you my love, that is so kind! Love you♡
You feel sleek walking into the office that morning. Fitted clothes steamed and pressed, hair freshly upkept at the salon the previous weekend, nails manicured, smile primly painted, you look perfect. 
But that's not what you're excited about. 
Spencer lounges cross-legged at his desk, a book in his lap, surprisingly broad shoulders hunched as he reads at a more natural pace than usual. His desk is cluttered in organised chaos, books lining the partition that separate his desk from Derek's and Emily's, strange knickknacks scattered. There's a bunch of bright squishy things from Penelope, an upside down umbrella statue lined with hair elastics, and, cutest of all, his two photo frames. One of him holding baby Henry, and one of you. You and him, of course, but mostly you in the frame, closer, smiling like you love him as you angle the camera back in a well meaning and misaligned self portrait. 
You do love him. He hasn't caught on yet, is all. 
"Spencer," you greet, hoping he won't jump. He flinches minutely and lifts his head to yours, closing the book against his hand. "Sorry, I was trying to make it so you didn't jump." 
"My fault." He rubs his eyes. "Just been reading this book for so long it's messing with me." 
The book, of which he's told you about in detail, is about a documentary, which is in turn about a bunch of dark, ever-changing rooms, hallways and tunnels from within a house. The line between what's fiction within fiction blurs, and it's actually pretty scary if he's to be believed. "I've never seen you take so long reading one book, even if it is eight hundred pages," you say teasingly, letting the handle of your handbag slip down your shoulder. 
"The point is suspense," he says, eyes following your fingers where they dive into your bag. "Which needs time to build. What are they?" 
"These are for you, handsome." 
"You already gave me a present," he says quizzically. 
His birthday was a few days ago, and he's right. "These aren't for your birthday, Spence." 
He cracks the lid off of the tupperware on side at a time like he's scared he'll ruin the sweet treats within. You've made him fresh baked shortbread biscuits dipped in dark-chocolate and topped with sparse coconut shavings. 
"What are these?" he asks.
You both know that he knows they're cookies, so you answer the unasked question instead. "I wanted to make them for you. I think you'll like them, they're a little rich but the coconut helps even it out. You don't have to try them now or anything–" 
"Can I?" he asks, lips quirked into a gentle pout. 
"Sure." You hide your nerves as he bites into one, the cookie itself breaking softly, crumbs falling into his waiting hand. "They're messy. Should've warned you." 
He puts the uneaten half back in the tupperware and places it atop his closed book on the desk. He's nodding as he stands, arms quick over your shoulders. You can hear him swallow, his voice mildly hoarse as he says, "They're so nice," he praises, clearing his throat, "I think I swallowed too fast." His laugh warms your ear. "I can't believe you made those. How long did it take you?" 
"Not that long," you say, beaming as he pulls away. "I knew you'd like them." 
"It helps that you made them." He holds your elbow. "I don't know how to say thanks." 
You raise your cheek. "Only if you want." 
He kisses your cheek. You smile like a fool and giggle much the same, reaching around his arms to nab a cookie for yourself. They'd tasted nice last night when you tried them, but they're perfect after Spencer's praise. 
"No one's ever baked something for me before," he admits, the two of you standing much too close considering the setting. "I mean, there really wasn't a reason?" 
"No, Spence. I was watching some TV last night when I started thinking about you, and I recently got that cookbook, you remember? That was one of the dessert recipes. I had to make two batches because I put too much butter in the first try and they spread flat as a nickel." 
He smiles at your misfortune. "What?" you ask. "What's funny about that?" 
"It's not funny. You made me cookies and when they went wrong you made me more. I don't know what I–" His hand flirts with your elbow, index finger moving with a mind of its own, tickling you through your thin blouse. "You're amazing." 
"You make me really happy." You look down at his hand where it draws a line. "It makes me happy to be able to do something for you." 
Spencer can evidently see you turning shy, and he's a sweetheart, so he rescues you from your timidity with a life jacket. "Is there anything you can't do?"
"Not that I've found so far, handsome. Why, did you have something in mind?" 
He makes a big and genuine laugh, grabbing two cookies and forcing one into your hand. "You have to eat your share before Emily gets here." He nudges your hand up with his. "Go on. I'm not in the mood to share with anyone but you." 
1K notes · View notes
anadiasmount · 4 months
Note
Married life with Jude!!
headcannon for jude bc i’ve never done one! hope you enjoy! 🧟‍♀️🤍
masterlist | jude’s masterlist | send requests/ concepts!
would def introduce/call you as “wife” everywhere you go. doesn’t matter where you guys are headed he would so go “this is my wife y/n.” would make me feel so giddy i will not lie 😣😔
kiss your ring finger whenever he pleases, or when he notices you becoming nervous or anxious because he knows how much kisses with you mean. “relax darling, it’s us. me and you.”
have a random argument in the morning and jude being first to apologize bc he one, hates to see you upset bc of him, two due to the fact he hates when you’re not talking to him, and three bc he hates fighting especially with you. “forgive me okay? i didn’t mean it.”
would text you whenever either of you are out to check in, and starts the text with “wife…” or “husband” to remind to pick something up, or send a quick i love you text, to tell you about their days or something funny you guys saw, to say they miss each other. props if they send pictures instead of just texting.
on random occasions would pull out your wedding photos because it’s the most memorable and unforgettable night of his life. would explain to you how he felt in that moment and pull you his chest and tell you he loves you so much.
calls you “mrs. bellingham” to get your attention or walks into the room bc you and him love it. friends and family would make fun of you and you would shy away from it, but jude just smirks bc deep down it’s a reminder to everyone you’re married to him.
the two of you spending every morning together before he leaves for training or away games, having your daily tea/coffee with cookies/biscuits because you hate being apart even if it’s for just a little bit. “gonna miss you so much angel. wait for me so we can grocery shopping okay?”
LATE NIGHT TALKS BECAUSE WHATTT??? i have trouble sleeping at night and he would def stay up with you and you the same with him when you can’t sleep and just talk about kids, pets, friends and family, work, about the old times when you first got together.
brings you your favorite bouquet of flowers when he comes back from away duty, never getting over the fact that you’re married to him. kissing your forehead first and then leaning down to connect your lips together. “your favorite flowers, but you’re my favorite flower beautiful.”
annoys the shit out of you when he’s sick or clingy, begging for you to hold him and kiss his cheeks or temple because you apparently take the pain away. your hands massaging down his back and neck to smooth him, but sometimes he pretends just so he can feel you. “i need my wife to be with me in ‘sickness and in health’ remember?”
when back in england he loves doing date night at late night. takes you on walks after dinner and treats you to ice cream, buys you something to remember the night. his hand on your thigh in the car or around your waist when walking. “look so pretty for me. why are you so beautiful, wife?”
BYE IM SORRY BUT HES THE TYPE TO BUY SHIRTS THAT SAY “my wife” “his wife” and “my husband” “her husband” and force you go to public wearing them because he thinks it’s hilarious. “i’m sorry i can’t. i need a good laugh. please baby? do it for me?”
buys you small presents because he can’t stop spoiling you. “for you my wife. don’t start with that because i have every right to do anything to make you smile.”
would pull up to your work place when you least expect it and wait in your office/ designated area to eat lunch when he’s off. you would tell him all the gossip or topic of the day to reach, and he’s attentively listening because he loves hearing about the silliest thing that occur in your work place. everyone would just stare at the two of you in awe because you are the definition of couple goals.
when you attend his matches you would surprise him with a “his wife #5” jersey and he would smile wide and pull you close after the match ends. he would make fun of you at first but he loves the idea bc he know it’s a reminder to not him but the whole world. “my wife indeed. it’s gonna become my favorite jersey you’ve worn. gotta remind everyone who your husband is right?”
a relationship especially when married isn’t one sided, so the two of you always go above and beyond to make each other happy even if it’s the smallest word or action. squeeze in a cuddle even if it’s not appropriate timing. always communicating about how you to ensure the two of you are okay.
even the smallest glances you send when you’re not together, it’s glances like those that will never fail to put a smile on each others faces. like the of you would be the only humans alive.
481 notes · View notes
mistydeyes · 8 months
Text
miss americana: gaz edition
Tumblr media
┊ ⋆ ┊ . ┊ ┊┊ ⋆ ┊ . ┊ ┊┊ ⋆ ┊ . ┊ ┊┊ ⋆ ┊ . ┊ ┊┊ ⋆ ┊ . ┊ ┊┊
series summary: The 141 has varying thoughts about Americans which range from finding them wildly entertaining to thinking they’re the worst people on earth. However you challenge their perspectives when you meet them. Something about you makes them feel a little more patriotic ;)
summary: When you finally move to the UK, there are a few things that confuse you and Gaz is more than happy to help out! From realizing cars are not automatic to the different colloquialisms, he enjoys clarifying the differences in culture.
pairing: Kyle "Gaz" Garrick x American!Reader
warnings: none
a/n: FINALLY something that I don’t have to do research on because I’m from the US🦅🎆 I have other parts planned to this as well!
also these are 100% inspired by all the questions I ask @lundenloves, she entertains my constant surprise and shock lol
┊ ⋆ ┊ . ┊ ┊┊ ⋆ ┊ . ┊ ┊┊ ⋆ ┊ . ┊ ┊┊ ⋆ ┊ . ┊ ┊┊ ⋆ ┊ . ┊ ┊┊
Whenever you go out with Gaz you ask him to “translate” for you.
When you first walked the rainy London streets with Gaz, you felt like a toddler with all of your questions. "Why does that stationary store have a sale on condoms?" you asked, confused, as you directed his attention to the sign that displayed a sale on rubbers. "You mean erasers?" he corrected, laughing. Next was when you saw a store you liked and immediately directed him inside, saying you needed pants. Despite how cute you looked while shopping, he had to correct you saying they were trousers and that pants had a very different meaning. Finally, the most egregious example was when you went to a restaurant and ordered biscuits to accompany your savory dish of soup. Once the waiter laughed in response, you looked at Gaz confused. "A biscuit is not like what you get in the Southern US, it's more of a cookie," he explained as you flushed with embarrassment. You would have to do some research next time and consult your British tour guide.
You’re an absolute menace when he goes to the grocery store or what he calls the grocers. You will go up and down the aisles, picking up whatever you fancy.
"Where are those chocolate oranges?" you demanded as you went down the aisle with Gaz. He pushed the cart, or trolley as he called it, which was already filled with a variety of snacks. Anything that looked distinctly British and that you knew you couldn't get at home, went in the cart. He had to hold you back from getting biscuits and crumpets. "Do you think we're having a tea party?" he joked as you waddled back with your selection. "Can we?" you asked, excitedly, and Gaz knew you were going to spend another 30 minutes in the tea aisle. "Let's just find you some Terry's and then we can consider getting tea," he corrected and you pulled the cart rapidly ahead. "I'm going to buy a whole orchard of those oranges."
Later on, you did buy a bushel worth of oranges and Gaz gently rubbed your stomach after you ate two entire ones. "They're just so good," you mumbled before you regretted the lactose coursing through your digestives.
Sometimes you’ll entertain him with distinctly American experiences.
"Did I ever tell you I was going to join a sorority in college?" you mused as you sat on the couch. He looked down at you before replying. "A what?" he questioned and you laughed. "You're telling me you've never heard of Greek life!" you exclaimed as he shook his head. You sat up for this fun explanation. "Essentially, if you're a girl you join a sorority and you spend like 4 days meeting the sister, trying to get them to like you, and then you're given a bid," you explained, he nodded as if this wasn't a foreign concept to him. "Then you all gather, usually in a football stadium or field, and they call your name as well as the sorority you're in and you run towards them." At that, he looked in horror. "It sounds cultish," he remarked and you lightly punched his arm. "It's cute! Everyone dresses up in different themes like 'Las Vegas' or 'Teddy Bears'," you smiled but he still shook his head, "it's the hazing that's cultish."
You will always insist on driving but Gaz remembers the one time he let you drive.
"Kyle, just let me drive!" you exclaimed as he beat you to the car door. In all honesty, you were a little used to being on the passenger side back at home but nevertheless, you were annoyed at his constant insistence at driving. "No," he simply said, "need I remind you what happened last time." The minute he said that you remembered the first time he tried to let you drive. First, you were surprised it was a stick shift rather than an automatic but it was nothing to worry about. It took you a few streets to get used to the changing gears but Gaz still had confidence in you. It wasn't until you pulled into a shopping center and started driving on the wrong side of the road that he made you park and take over. "It wasn't that bad!" you exclaimed, buckling into the passenger seat. "Love, my life flashed before my eyes."
He’ll make fun of you when you order coffee with a smile and try to make a friendly conversation with the barista.
As you entered the coffee shop, you were easily the happiest one there. It was 7 am and even Gaz wasn't as cheery as you are. "Good morning, how are you?" you smiled at the young barista. She returned your smile and eased her tired shoulders. "I'm doing alright, what are you having today?" she replied and you took a minute to think. “Just a cup of coffee for him,” you replied, pointing at Gaz. You pondered for a minute as you strained to look at the signs. "What do you think is good here?" you questioned and her eyes lit up as she began to list the options. "If you're looking for coffee, a cortado is my favorite, but I personally recommend trying our tea," she recommended and you nodded. "Hmm I'll take both," you cheerily replied, watching as she typed in your order. When you pulled out your wallet, you looked around curiously and the barista noticed your hesitation. "Is there anything else I can get you?" she asked before you looked up at her. "You don't have a tip jar here?" you wondered and she let out a laugh. "We don't, more of an American thing," she answered and you frowned slightly. You let her know to keep the change and waited patiently for your order at the end of the coffee bar. "You're too cute sometimes," Gaz said, kissing your forehead gently. He made sure to get a picture of you with your two cups, captioning it, "They finally got their cuppa!"
He helps you navigate the surprisingly easy currency and pricing system.
“Kyle I need more,” you corrected as he handed you a handful of notes. You had gone souvenir shopping in London but forgotten your wallet at his flat. “What do you mean, that’s enough,” he replied as he flipped over the postcards to check if he did his math correctly. “What about the tax? You forgot about that,” you said triumphantly and he laughed in response. “Oh this is one of your American things,” he said, his new favorite term to use, “Love, you pay what’s on the sticker.” Cue your shocked face as you couldn’t fathom the moment of anticipation as your items were rung up at home. On the ride home, you were sure to explain to Gaz the ins and outs of the different taxes including that there was no clothing tax in Minnesota, New Jersey, Pennsylvania, and Vermont. “I cannot believe you don’t know how much you’re paying when you go up to the till,” he remarked, shaking his head in dismay. “The what?”
There are some disagreements on the meaning of different words (especially ones that you both share but mean two completely different things).
On a rare day, the entire 141 was free, and Gaz decided to introduce you to them. You returned back from the grocers and were surprised when Gaz began preparing a late lunch. “We’re not going to eat at the bar?” you asked, noticing him turning the stove on. “No, no they don’t have food there,” he corrected as your face turned to confusion, “what do you think the bar is?” Upon your explanation of an American bar with cheap drinks and greasy food, Gaz laughed and kissed your cheek gently. “If you want to go to a pub, I can just let them know the change of plans. There’s plenty around,” he responded and went to put the items back in the fridge.
When you arrived at the lively pub, Gaz made sure to sit you next to Soap so you could listen better to his thick accent. While you appreciated the gesture, the Scotsman still spoke a mile a minute. Despite your initial uneasiness, you soon fell into lively conversation and entertained everyone with your stories from college and things you found differently in the UK. "I think the time zone was the biggest issue," you said in response to Ghost's question about your transition to living abroad, "although, the lack of ceiling fans was interesting." They all laughed in response before Gaz interjected. "Tell them about when you ordered a baked potato," he joked and your eyes immediately lit up before you went into a long conversation about your experience. As everyone laughed at your bewilderment at the lack of serving the side with bacon, cheese, and sour cream, Gaz looked at you fondly, his favorite American.
391 notes · View notes
Text
Any Time You’re Ready
After another lousy date, Oliver’s parents remind him that love might be closer than he expects.
Oliver Wood x Fem!Reader
1.7k words
Warnings: none, fluff, kissing, embarrassing parents
A/N: Inspired by the Shawn Mendes song “When You’re Ready” because I’m obsessed with “What if my dad is right/When he says that you're the one”
~
“Goodnight, Oliver.”
“G’night, Casey.”
The girl stepped into the green flames in the Wood family fireplace, called out her address, and was gone. As soon as the flames resumed their usual orange tint, Oliver turned around and strolled into the kitchen. He found his parents, sharing a slice of cake and sipping tea. Their heads snapped up as he walked in.
“So, what’d you guys think?” Oliver grinned as his parents.
“She seemed nice,” his mom answered with a shrug.
His dad nodded. “Yeah, Cadie seems like a nice girl.”
Oliver’s face fell. “Casey, Dad. Her name’s Casey.”
“Right, right.” His dad took a sip of tea, clearly not embarrassed by his mistake. “But what about-”
“Dad, stop,” Oliver groaned. He already knew what his dad was going to say; he said it every time Oliver showed interest in a new girl.
You and Oliver grew up next door to each other and had been best friends from the time you could walk. Going to Hogwarts only brought you closer together, with all the time you spent together both in and out of the classroom, practically attached at the hip. And both of your parents had been convinced for years that the two of you belonged together.
Oliver’s dad held up his hands in defense. “’m just saying, son. I don’t know why you bother going out with these other girls. You’ve already got a great girl right next door. You’ve been friends since you were born. And everyone knows a friendship like that is the foundation of a solid relationship. Just look at me and your mother.”
“Dad,” Oliver said slowly. “You asked Mum out on your very first day at Hogwarts.”
“Yeah, and we were friends for the whole trip on the Hogwarts Express before that. Good foundation, like I said.”
“Right.” Oliver grabbed a tin of biscuits from the counter. “Well, ’m heading to bed. See you in the morning.” He waved at his parents and headed upstairs, taking the steps two at a time.
He should have been more surprised to find you lying on his bed, reading a book.
“How was your date?” you asked casually, eyes still on your book as he closed the door behind him.
“Fine,” he answered, crossing the room to close the window you had climbed through. He lied down next to you and opened the tin.
You took a cookie and shoved it in your mouth. “What do we think? Potential girlfriend?”
Oliver shrugged, helping himself to a cookie. “Probably not,” he admitted.
“It’s just as well,” you said, closing your book and tossing it on his nightstand. “She’s a bit of a dolt, if you ask me.”
A snort flew out of Oliver’s nose. “I don’t remember asking you.”
You elbowed him. “Well, you should’ve. I could’ve saved you a night of ‘Oh Oliver, you’re soooo funny, let me grab your muscles.’” You let out a fake high-pitched giggle and squeezed Oliver’s arm.
He warmed at your touch. No matter how hard he tried to fight it, he had finally admitted it to himself when he was fourteen: Oliver Wood was in love with you. So for the last two years, he tried to act normal, like he wasn’t thinking about you every second of the day, like you were just his best friend and nothing else.
But laying on his bed with you right next to him made it really hard to pretend.
“You’re so mean,” he laughed, trying to sound even. “Casey’s a nice girl.”
“Yeah, but she’s not right for you.” You wrinkled your nose.
Oliver turned onto his side and propped himself up on his elbow, facing you. “Oh, and you know what’s right for me?” he challenged.
You mirrored his pose, your nose close to his. “Of course I do. That’s what best friends are for.”
He felt a little tug on his stomach at the word friends. “Yeah, sure,” he scoffed, trying to play off the sting he’d felt every time you called him your friend over the last two years. “What about you? Any dates so far this summer?”
“A couple,” you admitted. “Nothing worth mentioning.” You flipped back onto your back, gazing at Oliver’s ceiling. “Why do we have so much trouble dating?”
Oliver stared at your profile, admiring the shape of your adorable nose and your perfect lips. “What d’you mean?”
“Well,” you sighed, “think about it. We’re both very good-looking, popular enough, definitely not idiots. Yet neither of us can get more than a couple dates out of a person. What gives?”
“Mmm.” Oliver thought a moment. He knew why none of his dates panned out, but he couldn’t for the life of him figure out why you, the most beautiful and perfect girl he knew, didn’t have a boyfriend.
Not that he minded.
“It’s not like I don’t have theories,” you continued, ignoring Oliver’s non-response. “Personally, I think you’re just too good for any of the girls at school.” Oliver felt his cheeks go warm again. “As for me, I’m going to go ahead and blame you.” You turned your head and smiled at your best friend.
“Me?” he asked with a dry chuckle. “How do you manage to blame me for your lack of boyfriend?”
You shrugged. “Think about it. Boy, girl. Best friends. Boy is good-looking and could probably beat up most of the boys in our year.” You popped another cookie in your mouth. “So, no one wants to date his girl best friend.”
Oliver stared at you a moment. Despite the fact that he definitely did not want to see you all cozied up with any of the boys at school, he couldn’t help feeling bad. If you wanted a boyfriend, you should have one. He never wanted to get in the way of your happiness.
It was as though you could feel his guilt. “It’s alright though,” you assured him with that sweet smile you usually reserved for Oliver. “Not like any of those boys are worth my time anyways. You’re the only decent boy in our year honestly.”
“Oh really?” he asked in a teasing voice, as though his heart was not hammering. The two of you had been doing this a lot lately: compliments, teasing just this side of flirting, skittering around a line no one was quite willing to cross, playing a game of chicken neither of you was willing to lose.
Tonight, you were the one who broke first. “So what’d your parents think of Casey anyways?” Your eyes were back on the ceiling of Oliver’s room, following the wizards flying around his Puddlemere United poster.
“They thought she was nice,” he answered, following your gaze. “My dad’s just disappointed that she’s not-” Oliver stopped himself, his eyes darting back to you.
You looked at him out of the corner of your eye. “Not what? Smart?” A smirk played on your lips.
Oliver thought a moment. You weren’t a mean girl typically. You were sweet, and you had plenty of girlfriends. The only people you were mean about were… well, the girls Oliver dated. The gears turned in his head as he calculated the risk he was about to take.
“Well, not you,” he finally admitted. “Dad’s disappointed she’s not you.”
“Oh.” You blinked a few times. Oliver could see the rapid thinking behind your expression. “And… what about you?” You sat up and looked down at Oliver, all the playfulness gone from your eyes.
Oliver heaved himself up as well. “I… I mean…” He licked his lips and sighed. Just spit it out, he told himself. “Sometimes I wonder if my dad’s… right?”
“Right about what?” You fidgeted with the hem of your t-shirt, a nervous habit Oliver knew well.
“He…” Oliver cleared his throat and took your hands in his. He saw your eyes flicker to them before meeting his gaze again. “He says that you’re the one.” Oliver winced, preparing himself for rejection and the end of your friendship, the thing he’d been dreading for two years.
“The one?” you echoed, your hands still in Oliver’s.
He nodded. “You know. The one.”
The smirk playing on your lips broke some of the tension between you. “What would that entail? If I was the one, I mean.”
His fears melted slightly at the sight of your small grin. “Well, it would probably start… with this.” Oliver closed his eyes and leaned forward, pressing his lips gently against yours.
Much to his relief, you kissed him back, letting go of his hands and wrapping your arms around his neck while his hands settled on your hips. He could taste your bubblegum flavored Chapstick, the one he borrowed annoyingly often, and you could taste the chocolate from the biscuits that now sat forgotten near the foot of the bed.
When Oliver let go, he didn’t bother trying to play cool; instead, he grinned from ear to ear, not caring how goofy he looked.
Likewise, you couldn’t help the giggle that tumbled out of your mouth, your hands still on Oliver’s shoulders. “Starts with that, huh?”
“Yeah, that’s just the beginning.” Oliver leaned forward again, his mind racing with excitement. He laid back, pulling you on top of him-
“I think you mean that’s the end of the night,” came a voice from the door neither of you noticed opening.
Color rushed to your cheeks as you scrambled to sit back up, pushing Oliver off you. “Hey Mr. Wood,” you managed, as if he caught you making out with his son all the time.
Your best friend’s dad nodded pointedly. “You should probably head back out that window, young lady. I’m sure we’ll see you tomorrow. When you use the front door.”
With one last awkward smile to Oliver, you jumped off the bed and opened the window, clambering out the way you’d done millions of times before. Trying to be a gentleman (especially in front of his dad), Oliver watched carefully as you climbed down the tree by his window, tiptoed across his backyard, through the gate between your houses, and through your first-story window, where you disappeared after a quick wave in his direction. When Oliver turned around with that still dopey smile, his dad was still in the doorway, a smug grin on his face.
“Told ya so, son.”
1K notes · View notes
nxathyx · 9 months
Note
if your requests are still opened, your recent work reminded me of my behavior ; keeping silent, when I'm hungry I wouldn't say or do anything about it, generally a s/o that won't say anything if they need something, from day to day life but it's not because of shyness it's just that I'm too lazy to speak up about anything that bothers me particularly
also with Ranpo, Chuuya and Dazai if you mind that many, just Ranpo and Chuuya is okay but a lot of people like Dazai so ;v;
Ranpo, Dazai and Chuuya with a s/o who doesn't speak up about basic necessities
Gn! Reader x Chuuya Nakahara, Gn! Reader x Dazai Osamu, Gn! Reader x Ranpo Edogawa
Tw: these are all probably ooc, Ranpo and Dazai being smug asf, slight anger issues on Chuuyas part
This is like the worst thing I've wrote so far but I hope you still enjoy it💀
Tumblr media
Ranpo Edogawa
°so Ranpo is smart as hell as we all know, however I don't think he takes care of his own needs himself and relies on people a lot. I mean he literally didn't know how to buy a train ticket
°I feel like he'd know you need something but wouldn't be bothered to do it Not because he doesn't love you or care about you he would probably ask Yosano or Fukuzawa to do it for him
°I think ranpo would call his s/o stupid or an idiot sometimes. I don't know why😭
° however when it comes to food I think he'd just randomly offer you candy or shove it in your mouth
For example:
You and your boyfriend were currently in the armed detective agency. He was sitting in his office chair, legs kicked over the desk, with a bag of potato chips and biscuits (or cookies idfk). He took one before placing it near your mouth, for you to eat.
"What are you doing..?" You asked a bit confused by his behaviour.
"you're hungry but you're to lazy to even say it. You might be even lazier than me" He retorted with a snicker
"i just don't feel like talking" you responded slightly unamused. He took the cookie away from your mouth, eating it as you just looked at him confused
"what? You weren't eating it"
"that doesn't mean I didn't want it.."
Dazai Osamu
° another one who probably knows what you need
° Dazai also doesn't really take care of his basic needs however I actually think he would take care of yours if he actually loves you, mainly cause he's afraid you'll leave and find someone who will take care of you better than he does (you didn't hear it from me)
°don't expect too much from him though, he can cook if you need food but I doubt he'll do it but he will keep you company while you do it 😭
°I feel like he reminds you a lot that youre terrible at keeping things to yourself (no he's just a bitch you're fine<3)
Chuuya Nakahara
°someone who actually takes care of himself and cares for his health. shocker
°however unlike the other two, he'd get upset that you don't communicate your needs with him
°he finds communication in a relationship to be very important so he'd want to know everything you need
°after you explain that you just can't be bothered with it he'll think that's a stupid reason but he will try to be understanding
°I think he'd take you out for dinner dates more often, text you to actually do things that are important for your health
"we're going out."
"What? why?"
"stop asking questions and let's go"
°like okay? 🤨
458 notes · View notes
ambi-kiko · 7 months
Text
here are some tma food hcs bc AAAA
i think that jon gets hungry for real food, too. but its more of a deep hunger? he actually needs food less and less and eventually just doesn't need to eat, but he still can and he still gets hungry, when he lets himself be relaxed enough to realize what his body needs
hes a great cook and at the safe house, cooks amazing meals and bakes warm loafs and all of martins favorite meals
jon sometimes gets hungry and doesnt let himself eat bc he doesnt feel human enough and feels like he doesnt deserve it
martin notices that last one and tries his best to make something jon likes
i think that martin is the best at making tea, really excellent at making classic chocolate chip cookies, and just awful at anything else in the kitchen. he still tries his best, and jon eats everything he makes
lonely!martin loses a lot of weight bc he leaves the office less and less and doesnt care for himself as much
jon is the only one who notices this and starts putting out a little tray of homemade biscuits near the tea in hopes that martin grabs some
when theyre in the safe house, jons #1 priority is to figure out martins favorite meals as subtly as he can to get martin to stop starving himself accidentally out of habit (he actually wasnt subtle at all, but martin found it endearing so he played along)
Melanie wanted to be a baker when she was younger and got really good at making treats. Her first youtube channel was for baking
Georgie cooks and Melanie bakes and they always call eachother the better chef
georgie is pretty good at cooking but she isnt exceptional by any means. melanie is excellent at baking, but she considers it pretty useless because "you cant live off fancy cakes and meringues"
daisy says that she knows how to cook and for a pretty long time basira believes her bc you cant be that buff if you dont eat
one night she comes over and finds that all that daisy has been eating is frozen meals
basira is fine at cooking (enough to live off of), but she cooked the best meal she could in hopes to inpress daisy
daisy had so little actual ingredients that basira rly struggled but it was amazing. daisy didnt notice bc she was too tired. she crashed on the couch and basira left after tucking her in. daisy was pissed at herself for not appreciating basira
after that, she stops eating frozen meals and tries learning to cook. shes really bad at it at first and almost gives up multiple times, but wants to be able to cook for herself (its really for basira but she wont admit it)
tim is the cook and sasha cleans up after
he feels bad making her clean but she insists bc "cooking is so much more useful and time consuming" and that he should "let her be useful"
tim always helps out in the end and they often end up dancing together in the kitchen
tim gets this weird feeling of loneliness when certain songs come up when hes cleaning the kitchen alone after not!sasha
peter leaves homecooked meals at elias' desk when he has his back turned (he starts with warm foods, but realized that they always turn cold and that isnt very pleasent, so he starts bringing salads and poke bowls)
if i missed anyone, lmk! i could continue w these for a while but im blanking on other characters and i dont want to go on too long in 1 post so see ya later!
192 notes · View notes