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13uswntimagines · 3 years

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Leave the Cooking to Me (Sam x Rose x Reader)

Request: Sam x rose x reader. Where R was a part time chef so she’s always cooking their meals and the team is jealous of the good food

Author’s Note: Special Thanks to @literaryhedgehog. We had way too much fun doing this one and spent way too much time looking up random food things. Gotta say that we are both a sucker for writing for Sam.

Sam and Rose were lucky and they would tell that to anyone who would listen to them. You weren’t just the sweetest human being they had ever met, or the most thoughtful. You were all of those things, and you knew how to cook. Not just recreationally either. You were the full fledged winner of Top Chef season 19, and the Sous chef at one of the hottest restaurants in Washington D.C.

“How can you make such good food dressed like that?” Sam asked, leaning over the island and resting her chin on her hand.

“What do you mean?” You raised your eyebrows at the woman, continuing to run your knife along the onion without looking at it.

“Don’t all of your skills come from your chefs coat?” Rose asked, sliding up beside you, her hand trailing under the back of your shirt. You shivered at the cold hand touching your skin.

“I’m not Iron Man. I can function without an outfit,” you said, rolling your eyes, as you grabbed an egg. You happened to like wearing an oversized pajama shirt and short-shorts while cooking. You never felt bad about spilling anything on them, since you didn’t exactly wear them in public. “Sam, since your hands aren’t literal icicles-” Rose stuck her tongue out at you playfully “- can you hold this and warm it up to room temperature while Rose helps me hold the pastry?”

“Ohhh what kind of pastry? Why is that filling purple?” Rose squealed. You knew how much she loved when you baked for them (especially considering those croissants you made them for special occasions). She pulled the bowl closer to her, and scrunched her nose when she saw the contents.

You may have had a good track record, but that color was crazy.

“It’s Spanakopita, but we’re going to experiment just a little bit. If you don’t like it you have to eat it anyway,” You shrugged, rolling out the dough onto a cutting board, and positioning Rose’s hands right where you wanted them.

“If you make it, we’re going to like it.” Sam snorted, and Rose raised her eyebrow at her.

You bit you lip, wilting just slightly. “I just got inspired, cause the beats are going to look so good in the risotto for the Arancini,”

“If it’s anything like that curry you made last time you got inspired, I think we’ll be ok,” Sam said, kissing your neck with a grin while you worked. You squeaked a little and jumped, hip-checking her to keep her away from accidentally touching the food.

“It’s just a shame Valentine’s day already happened,” Rose said, looking at the three bowls of filling in their various places on the counter or in the fridge, “Pink, red, and purple dishes would have made great themed appetizers for your restaurant!”

You snorted and shook your head. “I wish, we could do anything this interesting.” The arancini, maybe. The other two would probably be avoided like the plague for fear of any garlic or other lingering spices. “People are too bougie to enjoy the simple things like strangely colored foods.”

“Good thing we’re not!” Sam smiled broadly, stealing a piece of orange-colored pork from the bowl to your right.

“Yeah, we get all the sass and none of the class,” Rose giggled, barely avoiding your slap at her hand as she also stole a piece of pork.

Just then you heard singing from the couch. “We are family,” Sam stuffed the piece of pork in her mouth and jumped up to grab her phone from where it was wedged between the cushions. “I’ve got all my sisters and me.”

“Tha’s Kwsten,” She spoke through her mouthful then swallowed. Do you mind if I go take this?”

“Go for it, we’re about to stick this stuff in the oven anyway,” You nodded, giggling when she tripped over a chair on her way to grab the phone. “Make sure you swallow before you answer,”

“Took you long enough. What were you doing, trying to find your pants?” Kristie’s voice rang through your apartment the second Sam answered the call. You smiled when your girlfriend’s cheeks turned a light shade of pink.

“No, Y/n is cooking. She’s so good with her hands Kris, it’s not fair,” Sam said shaking her head.

Kristie snorted, wiggling her eyebrows at the woman. “I’m sure she is,”

“Stop trying to turn everything I say into a euphemism.” Sam groaned, sending a glare at Rose who was cackling like a madwoman.

“But you make it sooo easy,” Kristie teased, “I mean what was it you said last time, ‘she kneads aggressively?’”

“Bread, Kris. She was making bread. And you’re supposed to do-I mean knead it aggressively, that’s how gluten develops.”

“Stop trying to explain it babe,” Rose sang, her voice bubbling with suppressed laughter.

“You’re just making it worse,” You nodded along.

“You know, I’m not this mean to you when Emily and Lindsey pull this shit with you. I was even sympathetic with the Sketchers thing,” Sam pouted.

“We agreed to never mention that again,” Rose said menacingly, but Sam was distracted as you handed her a plate with the Spanakopita.

Sam’s pout melted off her face at the sight of the plate. “Ooo goodies. Thanks babe,”

You kissed her cheek and waved to her sister on the phone before heading back to the kitchen to finish the next set.

“What is that?”

“Just course one of the amazing appetizers lunch my wonderful girlfriend is making for me.” Sam bit in and rolled her eyes at the taste, holding up the other half of the Spanakopita so she could see the gorgeous and delicious purple filling.

“For both of you Sammy. Don’t leave Rosie out, that’s mean,” You called out, your tongue poking between your teeth as you stirred the pot on the stove.

In the background of Kristie’s call, Sam could see other teammates gathering around the phone to see her food. She stood and walked back to the kitchen, turning the facetime camera around so they could see the two trays out of the oven and then you stirring at the stove. You waved your spoon but stayed focused. The rice was just at the point when it was most likely to burn and you needed to make sure the texture didn’t go from delicious to goopy. Risotto wasn’t for the faint of heart.

“Look at how fluffy this Bao is!” Sam said, slowly tearing one of the dumplings in half in front of the camera. Sisterly torture went both ways- her sister may turn half of what Sam said into sex jokes, but Sam could rub the delicious food in Kristie’s face.

“Why is it so orange?” Emily asked, piping in from behind the older Mewis sister.

“Some awesome Indonesian spices that Y/n thought would be good,” Sam said, taking a huge bite out of the bun.

“Tamarind and Turmeric in the mix,” you called out from behind her.

“It’s not fair that your girlfriend is a literal chef who enjoys cooking in the weekend,” Emily whined, followed shortly by a “shut up Sonnett” from Lindsey and a thump.

“Experimenting apparently,” Rose said, mischievously.

“Not helping dear. Anyway, what were you calling about Kris?” Sam said pointedly.

“We just wanted to know what you eta for camp was?” Kristie asked.

“Um, the flight leaves tomorrow at what time was it again Rose? 8 am?”

“Try 4:30 am Sam,” You rolled your eyes. It was going to suck, but you were going to make sure to pack some tasty overnight oats so no one was grumpy on the plane.

“Ugh. That’s bullshit. Anyway, takeoff at god-awful early in the morning, and then we’ll see you when we land!” Sam said. She hung up the phone and moved back towards the counter.

“Don’t worry babe, I’ll schedule the flight next time,” You leaned up to kiss her cheek. “Now how bout you help me roll some balls?”

*****

“I don’t know what we did wrong this time?” Kelley said, poking the overly pale cinnamon rolls that had just come out of the oven. Then she turned the roll over to see a crisp black scorch on the base. “It looks like we took them out just in time though?”

“They’re pale on the top and burnt in the bottom,” Rose whined, tapping the middle of one of the rolls experimentally.

“Kind of line you Rose,” Sam laughed, patting her shorter girlfriend on the back.

“Haha, at least they’re not hockey pucks like the last batch,” Rose grumbled.

How they had let their teammates talk them into this, she didn’t know. What she did know was that cooking with you was way more fun than doing it with this bunch. At least with you everything turned out tasty in the end. And if she accidentally messed something up you always knew how to fix it.

“Stop that,” Kelley swatted Alex’s hand away from the bowl of icing. “That’s unsanitary. Let us drizzle it on the rolls first and then you can clean the bowl.”

“But then what are we gonna do with this caramel you insisted I stir?” Emily asked, looking up from the pot in front of her.

“It’s for the next batch. You put it in the bottom before you bake,” Sam answered, beginning to roll out the next set of cinnamon rolls.

“And technically, we didn’t insist you do anything Sonnet. We mentioned our idea to make caramel for the cinnamon rolls and you jumped up and said “I volunteer as tribute”” Rose grumbled. “You didn’t even let us suggest a recipe.”

“Which considering the success of the other recipes you picked, might have been a good idea,” Emily said, frowning slightly at the bubbling mixture in front of her. She was stirring but the bubbles weren’t going away like they did with pasta. Maybe because it was thicker? She stirred faster to compensate.

“Hey guys, what are you-... oh shit,” You raced over to the stove, nearly barreling into Emily as you grabbed the practically overflowing pot of molten sugar and moved it off the heat, praying you had gotten to it before it was too late. You really didn’t want to have to explain to the trainers why you and Emily had third-degree burns if the pot exploded.

You spun towards the group of older players, glaring at them. “Who let the child do the most dangerous job?”

“Dangerous?!?” Kelley and Rose sputtered. Sam just blinked at you

You shook your head and pinched the space between your eyes. “If it crystallizes and you don’t take it off the heat it can explode. You don’t stir sugar,”

“Oh. Well. At least there’s still icing?” Sam grabbed one of the better rolls and gave it a hearty helping of icing before handing it to you.

“What did you use, because Alex is vegan and she’s been eating it?” You narrowed your eyes at the offered plate, glancing sideways at a set of very pale rolls and a set that were very burnt and flat.

“Flaxseed and applesauce instead of eggs and oat milk instead of milk. And margarine instead of butter.” Kelley said, automatically. She and her fiance had been making vegan substitutes for a while now, and while they might not have been traditional cinnamon roll ingredients, she knew the measurements by heart, so that’s what they had used.

You bit your lip and squinted your eyes as you reached out and swiped a bit of frosting from on top of the bun and put it into your mouth.

You gulped when the salty substance hit your tongue, trying and failing to conceal your wince after the flavor. Your girlfriends were a lot of things, but apparently good cooks wasn’t on that list. “Hey, what container was the powdered sugar that you used for this in?”

“Um, this one?” Kelley said, sliding you a container.

Your eyes widened at the blue-lidded container. You had been experimenting for a new dish at the restaurant and had gotten a hold of some micro powder salt flour for it. You thought it would give the new cracker-jack-themed desert a better taste, and help to balance out all the sugar from the Caramel ice cream.

“That’s not sugar,” you said weakly.

Alex dipped her finger into the bowl and tasted it, gagging. “It’s salty!”

Sam frowned down at the plate in her hand. She hadn’t wanted to do this, to begin with, but the team had insisted. Assured her they knew what they were doing and that you would love the surprise. Instead, Emily had almost burnt down your kitchen and everything was a mess.

“Is none of it alright,” Rose asked softly from behind you, her lip jutting out.

You scanned the kitchen, looking from the still ominously bubbling ooze on the stove, to the cinnamon rolls so undercooked you could catch salmonella from them to the icing, then finally to a glass on the counter. You grabbed it and took a large swig of vanilla oat milk.

“Your milk tastes great!” you said enthusiastically, as the others started laughing.

Sam and Rose just wilted further. You sighed, wrapping your arm around your taller girlfriend and holding your hand out to Rose. “It’s the thought that counts guys. And I love the thought,”

“That’s what your parents tell you when you give them shitty presents so you don’t feel bad,” Rose grumbled, and Sam nodded.

You sighed, unable to keep your lips from tipping up in a smile. It was just. It was so bad it was funny. “Maybe next time start with something a little easier? I’d love some scrambled eggs and toast!”

Sam sighed. “You hate eggs,”

You laughed again. “But I love you, even if you two can’t cook,”

You leaned up to kiss under Sam’s chin and over to Rose’s cheek. You loved them and would remind them that their skills were on the field. They should leave the kitchen stuff to you.

#uswnt imagine #uswnt imagines #uswnt x reader #sam mewis imagine #sam mewis x reader #rose lavelle x reader #rose lavelle imagine #sam x rose x reader #literalhedgehog

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the-ce-horniest-book-club · 3 years

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Last Chance Prompt Fest

Today is the day that our Last Chance Prompt Fest starts.

To take part, you don’t need to claim a prompt through us at all, you just find a prompt you like, create what you want to create and then tag us @the-ce-horniest-book-club and use the hashtag “CE HBC Last Chance Prompt Fest”. You can also DM your link to us to ensure we see it.

The event starts today, Friday, August 27th and ends next Friday, September 3, 2021.

Once the event has ended, we will answer the ask for the prompts that received creations. We will also have a masterlist for everything created as well.

Who can we create for?

You can create stuff for Steve Rogers, Chris Evans or any of Chris’s 18+ characters.

What can we create?

While the CE HBC is primarily a writing community, these events are to encourage creators of all types. So for this event, you can write, make moodboards, create a playlist, make a video or whatever you are inspired to create based on the prompts under the keep reading.

All of the prompts are listed below the cut and it does not matter how many things are created for each prompt.

Chris Evans Prompts

Could you do one with chris where the reader is eating something delicious and Chris hears them and tries to distract them with smutty things but the reader picks the treat over Chris. (Just had yams that tasted like my grandma used to make years ago, and I’ll pick that over Chris right now lol)

It’s hot AF where I live and we all know Chris doesn’t like the hot temps… so maybe something about trying to beat the heat

How many rounds was that? Four? God, we’re about to break our own record. With Chris? 😍

That’s a lot of sass for someone who ruined my sheets and still hasn’t apologized. With Chris?

Prompt: being friends with Chris and helping and supporting him with ASP too. When the news hit that Biden won your together and after squealing, he just grabs and kisses you.

Chris Evans brushing his heavily pregnant wife’s hair

Chris introducing you to his family for the first time

Readers reaction when Chris has to shave off his beard for a role and doesn’t tell her?

Hey i had an idea. she faked her orgasm because she has trouble cum. Chris finds out and is angry because she hasn’t said anything and doubts his abilities? then he brings her to orgasm

Chris playing Christmas songs on the piano while you wrap presents or something where he keeps you company while you’re doing something else

Ari Levinson Prompts

Cowboy Ari Levinson helping you out after he finds you on his ranch

Curtis Everett Prompts

Trying to have quiet sex with Curtis behind a curtain.

Frank Adler Prompts

Frank Adler gets a new neighbor - reader who is just as intelligent as his family and they like each other right away.

Nick Vaughn Prompts

Nick Vaughan keeping you company on the streets of New York

Steve Rogers Prompts

“I’m your Captain and you follow my orders!” “Aye, aye Cap’n!” “I said Captain, not pirate.”

“Hey Steve, what does a deaf gynecologist do?” “I don’t know.” “He reads lips.”

How about a drunk drabble based off of Right Girl Wrong Time by Jon Langston with Steve and Peggy

someone should write a steve and bucky threesome with a reader

“Yeah sex is great but have you just ever wanted to rub yourself over that fucking beard of Steve’s?”

I have a prompt for you. Steve has fallen in love with the Motown sound since Sam has played most of the genre for him. He has gone shopping, or gone for coffee and he hears you sing a song from the Supremes and is instantly intrigued. Have fun seducing him with music. https://youtu.be/HXGz8i0I2L0

It’s the first Christmas Steve has spent with y/n

Reader making Steve a heart cake for Valentine’s Day ❤️

Multiple Options Prompts

Can I get the following prompt with Steve, Colin, or Jensen? “In ancient Greece, throwing an apple was done to declare one’s love.” “How do I love thee, let me count the ways? Thump, thump, thump.” “So the mild concussion means you love me?”

Could I get “I see that you have your legal name listed as Y/n’s Daddy. That’s incorrect. You’re legal name is what’s on your Drivers Licence.” With any of Chris’ characters please?

SFW Prompts

For Chris or one of his characters, there is only one bed and they got to sleep far apart but wake up cuddling. Bonus points if they don’t hate it.

“Just tell why you did it!” “Because I’m in love with you, okay?!”

How about they’re roommates and “just friends” who develop feelings for each other

“You always say that, but I’d only see you for a day or two until you have to fly out again.”

“You don’t have to say anything, if you don’t want. I just thought you should know.”

i have been in love with you, dumbass

“If you don’t hug me right now I think I might fall apart.”

I have these… powers raging around inside me, and I have no clue how to control them.

“Hey, it’s cold. Light a fire or something. I swear, you’re a cold blooded reptile.”

that guy in the gorilla costume has been following us for the past ten blocks.

going to a masquerade ball

“So, you’re the unfortunate soul stuck with me.”

“I look at you and I think, ‘sunshine. Literal sunshine.’ It’s annoying.”

“Don’t you dare throw that snowba-, goddammit!”

“What’s with the box?”

“I’m not jealous.”

“It’s not like I love you or anything.”

Merlin quote prompt: Nobility is defined by what you do, not by who you are

“Why do you keep pushing me away? I know you love me.”

“I want to go home.” “And I want to go to the moon. It ain’t happening sweetheart. Time to accept that.”

“I just want you to know I love you and I hope these roses prove that to you.”

Prompt: “if you steal all the blankets I’m going to put my cold feet on you.”

“What have we here? Bed: unslept in. Hair in… missionary disarray. And yesterday’s dress with today’s shame all over it.” Gossip Girl

Every time I’m in the same room with her, I can’t decide if I want to pick a fight with her or push her up against a wall and kiss the fuck out of her. - Falling for My Enemy by Claire Kingsley

“The worst thing is, that even after all of that, I’m still in love with you.”

NSFW Prompts

“Wet pussy is the best. I can’t get enough of the juices dripping from my mouth.”

“She beauty, she grace, I want her pussy on my face.”

“Sheathing my cock inside you feels like a jam donut being torn in half. Delicious and mind blowing.”

Twist on quarantine haircuts: couple helping each other with pubic hair maintenance

“I don’t know if you’re looking for Aztek gold down there, but if you don’t hurry up and fuck my brains out I’ll do it my damn self!”

“Have you ever noticed how eating a hot dog is similar to giving deepthroat?” “No but thanks, I don’t want to eat this now.”

Babe I can’t sleep. I know you just woke me up. Wanna fuck? I’m awake!!!

“I don’t know who you think you’re talking to but I’m about to punish that sassy mouth!”

“I love your longish hair baby. Finally got something to pull while you’re between my legs devouring me.”

Holiday Prompts

“Great, now I have to re-hide your Christmas gifts.”

“I’m not going to kiss you under the mistletoe.”

“The best way to spread Christmas cheer is singing loud for all to hear.”

“What are you doing?” “Hiding from carolers.”

“Santa’s handwriting looks suspiciously like yours.”

“Why does the house smell like a cinnamon roll threw up?”

“Are you Santa? Because I’d sit on your lap.”

“YES I BOOBY TRAPPED THE PRESENTS BECAUSE YOU DO THIS EVERY FUCKING YEAR”

“What the hell kind of Charlie Brown Christmas tree did you buy?”

“It looks like the North Pole threw up.”

i may or may not have gotten tangled up in the tinsel.

“If we don’t have this damn tree up before the end of the night, I’m going to kill you.”

“I’m going to tell Santa to give you coal.”

“It’s an advent calendar. You’re supposed to open one square a day, not eat half the chocolate in a sitting.”

“Why is there mistletoe in every room of the apartment?”

I got a little too drunk off of egg nog and vodka and you look so pretty in this light, and I most definitely want to kiss you right now, best friends or not.

we were going to a Christmas party but fuck if you don’t just look sinful in red, and you know what? Fuck that Christmas party.

Dad!chris (or one of his characters) and his kids at Christmas

“You’ve never had a New Year’s kiss?”

Spending your first Valentine’s Day together with any character

#chris evans #ce hbc last chance prompt fest #the ce hbc

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dreamsmp-au-ideas · 3 years

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I was going to actually post this before asks closed (didn’t get the chance), but Teddy Bear Anon, you are one of my favorite people and a magnificent creature. You get my vibe.

About Bad canonically being Sapnap’s dad I feel like that has so much extra angst potential when we consider the rest of the found family. Like. Sapnap, Tommy, and Fundy all have dads who started with the best of intentions but for one reason or another ended up slowly becoming a danger to them. I imagine Tommy and Fundy one day showing up with a cake and telling Sapnap “We regretfully welcome you to the shit dad club” and Sapnap is torn between being upset still and laughing over the absurdity of the situation.

Bonus points if Tommy made the cake using a recipe book that Niki gave him, the last gift Niki ever gave to Tommy. Tommy was originally a really bad cook/baker but after the egg really started to take over he went full survivalist. Leaning to cook was necessary but learning to bake was something he did as a way to raise everyone’s spirits. He’s never gotten the flavor quite to match with Niki’s perfectly but everyone agrees he’s gotten pretty decent in terms of skills. He and Fundy in particular will sometimes just spend an entire day in silence baking and then quietly eat their creations while reflecting on the friends they’ve made and lost over the course of L'manberg’s lifetime. When the group got back to the past and Niki made cookies for Tommy and Fundy the pair very nearly started crying.

Tommy is in an interesting position as a character since he did commit a lot of minor crimes and acted as a general nuisance but he was also still a child. (A very traumatized one considering I canonize SMP Earth with its unlimited lives but even more wars. Including against God. Tommy fought God just let me have this.) He acknowledges the moments when he went over the line and has tried to apologize. In particular at some point before the egg fully takes over he pulls aside Jack and tells him that he’s sorry for the way he acted when he was still in exile, taking one of Jack’s lives and all. Jack and Niki in particular are an interesting subject to address and a painful one for immune!Tommy to think about when he sees younger Niki because the three never fully tossed out the hatchet but it was obvious in the eyes of someone like Sam that both of them were growing more and more hesitant to hurt Tommy. It was made worse by the fact neither were even marginally immune, and it didn’t take long for the egg to get to them.

He never stopped being chaotic. Tommy at his core is just that kind of person. He did, however, grow up enough to act in a more mature manner. Started to recognize what’s too much. In particular he became a lot less violent and willing to lash out after Sam Nook in essence reparented him. He’s still an absolute wild card of a person, which in the eyes of Sam and Sapnap is a good thing. For this au I think we should actually address Tommy having severe ptsd and during the building of his hotel/the early days of the egg before it becomes a noticeable threat it shows. He’s a lot more subdued. Shows of aggression all carry a kind of desperation and his typical jokes feel flat. Lashing out at people slowly becomes more of a defense mechanism to see if someone’s going to leave or betray him, to test the limits of how nice they’re willing to be. After all, nice people have only ever been nice to Tommy when they wanted something from him. His eyes, especially after L'manberg is blow sky high, are well and truly gray. The first time Tommy genuinely laughs after filling Sapnap’s room with chickens is considered celebration worthy to them. His pranks take on a more hermitcraft-esque feel to them which honestly makes them more funny.

By the time they get to the past Tommy has recovered, but he still carries the kind of maturity that like Teddy Bear mentioned is reminiscent of age swap Tommy. When he gets especially stressed though, Immune!Tommy will slip into moments where he acts as tired and done with the world as age swap Tommy. With that said, most of the time he just acts like a more mature Tommy. Nothing could ever completely erase his unique vibe which Ranboo has gone on record as describing “Willing to fight God deaf, blind, and backwards just to prove a point."

Immune Fundy and Tommy get on really well once Fundy manages to catch up with the rest of the group. It gets to the point where everyone from the past is kinda shocked since smp Fundy and Tommy do not get along. At all. Literally the first night Fundy’s back someone goes to wake them up and they find Fundy asleep on top of Tommy which is a wild experience since this Tommy is a goliath who often refuses to take off his full Netherite max enchant armor. He really becomes a "looks like he could kill you but is actually a cinnamon roll” kinda mans.

Also, yeah, this is Dream’s retirement arc. He is literally just sitting in the corner watching Tommy dote on his younger self and Tubbo before completely pile driving two of the most powerful people on the server straight into the dirt. At some point Tommy sits down with past Punz. He tells this Punz that their Punz died protecting him and Tubbo and that Tommy never got to properly thank their Punz so he’s going to thank this Punz. Tommy then gives Punz an entire stack of Netherite. If we’re gonna go ahead and agree on Phoenix Tommy then Tommy is fire proof, meaning he probably spent a large amount of time in the nether to avoid the egg crew and get rare supplies. Meaning he also probably did a lot of mining just to distract himself and it resulted in him being loaded. Tommy used to have a fear of tnt and explosives but he seems like the type of mad lad to say “exposure therapy” and make a massive cavern in the underbelly of the nether.

I think it would also be really interesting to dedicate like, a couple of chapters to other people’s perspectives. I kind of want to set the time they arrive in the past partway through the Pogtopia arc since I like mildly unhinged but not completely gone Wilbur. Plus then it also makes more sense for Techno to be there. Just prefer the aesthetic really. I want to have Wilbur see this version of Tommy and come to a sudden “oh” moment. I want to have a moment where Tubbo looks between his Tommy and this new Tommy, seeing himself nowhere to be found, and has enough what the fuck moments to become aggressively protective of his own Tommy. Especially if immune!Tommy ever admits to the past Tubbo why he is the way he is, what he faced under the thumb of the people he trusted. Which, out of everyone on the server, Tubbo would be the first one from the past to actively learn.

I am fully on board with Tommy knowing how to sew. That should just automatically be canon in literally ever AU. Tommy for all intents and purposes is still Phil’s child for me. Survival runs in the family the same way that chaos does, so he’s got a ton of basic survival skills that he just doesn’t show off because it’s still Tommy. He would have been completely fine in exile if it wasn’t for Dream. Whenever someone ruins their clothes in the Immune group they automatically go to Tommy and at first the past versions are very confused (except for past Tommy and Tubbo obviously) and then Tommy’s just “Sapnap this is beyond ruined it can’t be saved, let me make you something new” and within a couple days he makes Sapnap a completely new outfit. Like maybe Sapnap fell into a lava pool because Blaze Sapnap Supremacy and his clothes are beyond saving and everyone is beyond baffled when Tommy just acts like this is a weekly occurrence. He’s memorized Sapnap’s measurements and style tastes and already had a new outfit in the works for him that Sapnap immediately adores upon it being presented to him. It takes about a week for past Eret to learn that Tommy stress sews new clothing and he cannot think of a better model. Eret has never had such a full closet. Eret has everything from three piece suits to ball gowns now. Eret lives in terror of the days where Tommy disappears god knows where with Fundy and the two reappear with a new wardrobe for the entire god damn server.

Speaking of disappearing I really like the idea of part phoenix and part tanuki Tommy for a couple reasons. Being a Tanuki he’d have access to enough magic to hide his hybrid traits, which if they’ve been present for long enough would be a necessity to him. Additionally think about Fundy and Tommy building a den under Church Prime that slowly turns into a maze. Think about it. It starts off simple and then they both start digging more and it gets deeper and deeper and more complicate and the two just refer to it as their den and the only ones who are fully aware of the connotations of that word are Sam, Sapnap, and Ranboo who remember the absolute hell that was trying to navigate the original. Just Fundy and Tommy bonding over the fact they are literally the only creatures on this server that have this catacomb memorized and at the end of the catacomb is their saferoom which connects to rail way that the two spent a month straight on. It goes at least 25k blocks from spawn and it’s a final emergency resort in case they can’t stop the egg and the Immunes needs to regroup and essentially try again (if they keep bringing their younger selves with them then hopefully they’ll finally get an army large enough to stop this, but everyone really hopes it doesn’t come to that.)

I’m working on the first chapter of my fic right now actually if I’m gonna be honest and phoenix Tommy is absolutely without question canon to it but I’ve still been going back and forth on if I want him to be part tanuki as well or just blessed/favored by one like Teddy Bear mentioned. I’m also tucking away the whole thing about the magma blood for later use. Phoenix Tommy just makes sense. They used to call him Zombie Kid for a reason back on SMP Earth, he just literally does not die ever unless he decides he does.

~Snapdragon & Firefly

#dream smp #dream smp au #immune au #tommyinnit #fundy #sapnap #eret #the eret #awesamdude #dream #dreamwastaken #wilbur soot #submission #snapdragon & firefly #long post

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bunnyywritings · 4 years

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sugar, spice, and everything nice

streamer!kozume kenma x gn!reader

day 1: baking together

word count: 1k+

𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 - 𝐧𝐞𝐱𝐭; 𝐝𝐚𝐲 𝟐

[a/n: alright here it is! Fluffvember day 1! I’m sorry this first one is a little short but I hope you all enjoy 💓 taglist is still open ! -yours truly, bunnyy ]

“Are you ready?” Kenma asks as the watcher count goes up.

Both you and Kenma were fairly popular streamers. His streams usually consisted of gaming and an abundance of memes while yours consisted of gaming, baking, and other things. On a joint game of among us with Kuroo, Shoyo, and other streamer friends of yours, it was revealed that you two were dating courtesy of none other than Kuroo Tetsurō. The chat was calling Kenma out for “simping over you” to which Kuroo replied “Yeah Kenma, you can’t just believe everything (y/n) says just cause you guys are dating.”

Even though you and Kenma had been in your own streaming rooms, you could feel the anger radiating from him as the deafening silence became much, much louder. The both of you had tried so hard to keep it a secret. Making sure that the cats were never on stream because having the same breed of cat is a believable coincidence but having a cat of the same breed with the same name is much harder to explain or being quiet while the other is streaming and send them a text to ask what take out they want instead of barging in and asking.

So now that the cat was out of the bag, everyone was basically demanding that you two stream together. Whether you were playing a game or baking, they didn’t care. They just wanted to see the interactions.

Now here you are, getting everything ready to bake an apple pie.

“Yup! I’m ready.” You smiled at Kenma. You knew he was a bit hesitant to be on stream with you what you didn’t know was that it was because he just knew that it would be IMPOSSIBLE to hide the way his eyes soften when he looks at you or the way that he’s just so soft for you in general.

So as Kenma removed the ‘waiting’ screen, you two began to do your usual introductions.

“So we’re just gonna kinda start to do this and we’ll just keep an eye on the uh the chat, so yeah.” It was a little awkward as you instructed Kenma to peel and slice the apples.

“We decided to make apple pie because Kozu loves apple pie, it’s his favorite thing that I make. Especially in the fall when we go pick fresh apples.”

The chat exploded with fans cooing over the fierce blush that made Kenma’s cheeks glow. Some donations had come in, the text to speech relaying the messages along with them.

So far, things had been going smoothly. Kenma cut the apples and you showed everyone how to make the cinnamon filling. You grabbed your spoon and dipped it into the filling and brought it up to your lips, a satisfied hum leaving you as the sticky sweet concoction coated your tongue.

“Is it good?” Kenma inquired as he tilted his head to the side, a mischievous glint in his eyes as you enthusiastically nodded. “Can I taste?” You nodded but before you could move to dip the spoon back into the bowl, he gently took your chin in between his fingers and brought your lips to his, tongue cheekily licking at your lips before pulling away. You can tell that he had forgotten what you two were currently doing since he hadn’t cringed back or started to blush.

“Mmm it is sweet, almost as sweet at you.” There was a beat of silence before the donation notification rang throughout the kitchen and the robotic reading of ‘wow what a simp’ followed not long after.

You watched as his eyes widened and he flushed red, hands coming up to cover his face. You snickered teasingly, a blush matching his own was coming up your neck. Another donation with the note ‘didn’t know that kodzuken could be so cheesy’ and made Kenma shrink down to the floor and hide from the camera.

After that, you continued to show how to make the pie. Flattening out the crust that you had made prior to the stream and laying it into the pie tin, mixing the filling with the cut up apples and pouring the mixture into the bottom crust before showing how to lay a lattice crust on top, coating the edges with an egg wash and using leftover dough to make decorative cat ears and whiskers on it before finally slipping it into the oven.

“So uh why don’t we answer questions while we wait.” You suggested, glancing at Kenma who was currently eating the leftover filling coated apples. He agreed, moving further into frame.

Questions ranged from what your favorite tiktoks were to how long the two of you were dating. At one point, Kenma had started to introduce your two cats to avoid answering a question.

It was adorable.

Apparently, Shoyo had been watching the stream and decided to video call the both of you. Kenma was visibly relieved once all the questions shifted to how you two had become friends with one of Japan’s top volleyball players.

The steam had ended with you announcing that another joint stream was coming soon, one that would involve Kenma teaching you how to play Valorant.

“That wasn’t too bad was it.” You asked as you hugged Kenma from behind, resting your forehead on his shoulder, pressing a few kisses against his neck.

“Yeah, it was okay.�� His voice was a little muffled since he was munching on some of the fresh pie. A small moan left his throat. “God this pie is delicious.” He shoveled another fork full into his mouth. “I’m gonna get fat if you keep feeding me like this.” He joked.

You rubbed your hands over his tummy, “I wouldn’t mind that one bit, you’ll still be my pretty boy Kozu.” You didn’t have to look at his face to see the bashful expression on it.

“You know that I’ll love you no matter what Kenma.”

He turned in your arms and cupped your face in his hands. “I know, I’ll love you no matter what...well maybe not if you cheat on me.” He squished your cheeks so your lips puckered up like a fish. “You haven’t cheated on me, right?” The tone in his voice was purely playful.

“Well about that…” your words were garbled but still understandable since he rolled his eyes.

“I swear to god, if it was with Shoyo I will murder you. We agreed he was mine.”

“I mean I was gonna say Ku-” his little glare cut you off. “I mean what, who’s that?”

The both of you fell into a fit of giggles before he leaned in to give you a proper kiss.

𝙩𝙖𝙜𝙡𝙞𝙨𝙩 (open): @soul-of-rwby

#kozume kenma x reader #kozume kenma x gn!reader #kenma x reader #kenma x gn!reader #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu x gn!reader #kozume kenma #haikyuu fluff #streamer!kozume kenma x reader #fluffvember 2020 #fluffvember

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yourfinalbow · 3 years

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Ack anon I'm sorry. Tumblr ate your ask and I'm 🔪 But I saved your ask to put on the Google Doc so don't fret! I have it!

“Hi Ghastie Ghast, I wanted to share a prompt with you lol. I decided to go more holiday theme’d because it’s never too early to get into the holiday spirit.

“Your favorite winter drink was back on the menu, so I decided to surprise you with it.”

Please enjoy this prompt lmao”

The nickname made me -_- but hi Little Gray Circle Dude With Sunglasses! Thank you for sending me this! I had fun writing it. I'm assuming you wanted a Destiel fic, so that's what I wrote! (Also bonus points for Saileen as a background ship?) I sort of strayed a little from the prompt and the tone gets heavier as it goes on… 👀 I also accidentally wrote more than intended, so you can read it on Ao3 if that's easier. (And maybe give it a kudos because you’re the best?)

Title: Black Coffee Derangement Syndrome

Ship(s): Dean Winchester/Castiel, Sam Winchester/Eileen Leahy.

(Basic) Tags: Fluff, Slight Angst, Domesticity in the Men of Letters Bunker, Established Dean/Cas, Established Sam/Eileen, Using black coffee as a metaphor for hypermasculinity, With a whip cream style topping of internalized homophobia. *Finger guns.*

Warnings: Coffee gatekeeping and small sections of fluff that are as sweet as Cas’s Starbucks order. Also I’ve been to Starbucks once. Maybe twice? (Also a single mention of a drug that's commonly found as white powder, the non-descriptive comparison of Sam’s stupid health stuff with emesis, and use of the name that the figurehead for Germany in WW2 bore, just to be safe.)

Rating: T? Maybe? For language?

Word Count: 9k+

Quick thanks to my awesome beta @walksinstarllight! They are a poet and a writing sorcerer (wizard without a hat), and the only reason this fic even makes sense so please go shower them in kudos. (You can find their work here.)

Another thanks to @internetintroverts, who described a peppermint mocha to me in like 300 words because I drink black coffee and know nothing of anything ever. You can find their work here! (There's an Easter egg of one of their fics in this one hehe.)

The first thing Dean did when Cas got back from the Empty was give him coffee.

Okay no.

The first thing he did was fall into Cas’s arms and grip that stupid trenchcoat until his knuckles turned white. Shaking and laughing with hot tears streaming out of his eyes, he told him he was an asshole for leaving him like that. And to never, ever do it again. With blurry eyes and all other thoughts hazy, he told Cas he could have it, he could have what he wanted. Whatever he wanted. He told Cas he loved him too.

But then the next thing was coffee.

Caffeine is a hunter’s number one best friend, and since Cas was human again, Dean knew Sam was going to come at him with his stupid green health drinks and herbal tea. As Cas’s knight in shining armour, (a title used by Dean and Dean only), it was his duty to protect him from the disgustingly liquified rabbit food.

Now he expected Cas to like black coffee, you know, like a normal person.

But no, oh no. Apparently, he was dating a heathen.

Dean had to actually rub his eyes the first time he watched Cas fix his own coffee. He stood in the doorway of the kitchen, mouth agape.

Cas was leaning on the counter, humming some song that Dean could neither recognize, nor would he approve of, thank-you-very-much.

(Ok it was Champagne Problems by Taylor Swift and it's entirely possible he's listened to it once or twice but he still doesn't approve of it, thank-you-very-much.)

He held his yellow and black striped, bee-themed ceramic mug Eileen had bought him in one hand, and the entire five-pound bag of cane sugar in the other. And there he stood, happy as can be, pouring it directly into his mug.

Dean rubbed his eyes again.

And not even like, a normal amount either.

He just kept pouring, and pouring, and Oh my god he’s still pouring. Dean thought. It would honestly be more believable if it wasn’t sugar at all, and instead was in fact Cas’s secret stash of cocaine.

Dean might actually have to put sugar on the grocery list after he was finished.

His thoughts traveled back to Ishim doing the same thing with his coffee, in the tiny little diner Cas had set up as a meeting place. Dean had barged in that day, not thinking of his brother mocking him, or the possibility of danger inside. His vision was as tunneled as his thoughts focused only on Cas, not caring about anything else.

By that time the following day, Dean thought they were both going to die. The bloody and uneven sigil on the wall, Cas no more than ten feet away. Not quite within a comforting reach. The room was spinning from the blow to his head, and he could barely make out the words being spat from Ishim’s mouth.

“You blast me away, you’ll blast away every angel in the room. I’ll survive. Castiel, on the other hand, he’s hurt. He might live, or he might just end up a bloody smear on the wall.”

He almost lost Cas that day.

The blood rushed to his ears as his instincts sought out the mark on the wall. Ishim had told him to roll the dice, but in his head he couldn’t look past the chance of rolling a one. Watching the acrylic cube bounce until it decided Cas’s fate. There was no dilemma, there wasn’t even a decision to be made. He would always choose Cas over himself. Silent acts of care he could never vocalize.

An inability to speak formed from fear and cowardice. Like a lion in his stomach scratching at the words until they fell back down his throat.

And it was that inability to speak that led Cas to think he was nothing more than a tool for the Winchester’s to use.

He almost let Cas believe he meant nothing to him.

Dean cleared his throat. “Mornin’ Sunshine.”

Cas set down the bag of sugar and picked up the pot, the glass making a small clink as it hit the top of the coffee maker. “Goodmorning Dean. Would you like any coffee?” He greeted cheerfully, turning around like he hadn't just put enough sugar to make a pound cake in his coffee.

“Uh.” Dean was still caught off-guard by Willie Wonka over there. “Sure Cas.” He took the coffee pot from his hand and muttered a thank you.

“So,” Cas started while Dean reached into the cabinet for his own mug. “What ingredient do you suggest I put in my coffee this morning?”

“Uh...I don't know man. I drink my coffee black.”

“Yes I know you’re boring Dean, but you can still help me not be.”

“Black coffee isn't boring it's-”

“Dean, if you say ‘manly,’ I will sit you down and make you eat only spinach and kale for a week.” Sam said, walking into the kitchen, hair still spiked up from sleep. He used one hand to sign the words, his other one occupied by Eileen, who was sleepily shuffling closely behind.

Dean looked aghast. “I would starve.” He attempted to sign his indignant response, hands moving sloppily while holding both his mug and the coffee pot.

“I think that's the point.” Eileen said, laughing. She looked at Cas. “Is Dean gatekeeping your coffee aspirations again?”

“Yes.” He answered, ignoring Sam’s laugh and Dean’s huff of exaggerated outrage.

“Have you tried cinnamon?” Sam suggested. “You like Dean’s apple pie, and that has cinnamon in it.”

“I’m not so sure about that, Sam. Dean told me not to ever take cooking advice from you.“

“And I stand by that.” Dean interjected suddenly.

“I can cook!”

“Ehhh…” Eileen’s comment bought her a look of betrayal. “Though Sam may be right on this one, you might like it.” She shrugged.

“See.”

Cas pondered the thought for a moment. “Perhaps I will then.”

“Do we have nutmeg?” Eileen said, breaking away from Sam’s grip to check one of the cabinets. He walked to the other side of the kitchen, intending to look through the spice rack, knowing exactly what his girlfriend was getting at.

“You better not mess up my damn kitchen.” He said quickly. “Or you're organising them all next time.”

Sam rolled his eyes, knowing full well Dean would never let him organise the kitchen. Eileen looked through them, carefully turning the bottles around until the labels faced her. She pulled out the cinnamon and clove while she was looking for the nutmeg.

“Found it.” Sam called from the other side of the kitchen, walking over and putting a hand on Eileen’s shoulder.

“Thank you.” She said with a smile, grabbing the plastic spice jars.

She individually tossed each one to Cas. “Use these, it will taste like a pumpkin spice latte.”

“And don't forget the milk.” Sam added.

Cas scrambled to catch the spices, successfully grabbing two of them out of the air, the third one intercepted by Dean.

“What’s a pumpkin spice latte?” He looked at Eileen before snatching the bottle of cinnamon from Dean.

“It's a famous drink you can get at Starbucks.” Sam answered.

Cas tilted his head to the side and squinted at him. “What's a Starbucks?”

“You know, the coffee shop Alex and Patience drag Jody to all the time.” Dean said.

“I’m pretty sure Donna drags her there too.” Sam added. “Something about girl’s date night out.”

“The one Claire says is for ‘basic bitches’?” He lifted his hands, forming air quotes as he spoke.

“Yeah.” Dean answered, quietly laughing. “That's the one. She’s probably right, too.”

Cas carefully put the different spices in his coffee, eyeing the mug warily. His light brown coffee now had specs of...stuff in it.

(And unbeknownst to him, there was also a small pile of sugar at the bottom, the coffee so saturated it wouldn't dissolve any more.)

Eileen laughed at the look on his face. “It's good, I promise.”

Sam turned to look at her. “How would you know? Most of the time you get hot chocolate and spike it with bourbon.”

“You’re the one who gets a Pink Drink.”

Dean choked on his coffee. “What?”

“It's strawberry and coconut milk, and it's delicious.”

“Sure it is Sam.” Eileen jabbed.

“So what I'm getting here is that not only have you two been to Starbucks often enough to have a regular order, but Sam gets something called a ‘Pink Drink’?”

“No…” Sam started, trying to find a way to defend them. “Sometimes we…”

“...Make our own drinks.” Eileen snapped her fingers as she finished for him, attempting to save them from the endless stream of good-natured insults Dean would throw at them otherwise.

“Well you two are a real Martha Stewart, aren't you?”

“Yeah, except she's a convicted criminal.” Sam attempted to snark back.

“So are you!”

Before either of them could respond, Cas shoved his mug into Dean's face. “You have to try this, Dean. It tastes like pumpkin pie.”

Dean carefully grabbed the hot mug from Cas and took a sip. He was right, it did taste kinda like pumpkin pie. He took another sip, letting the pleasant flavor sit on his tongue. The different spices mixed perfectly together.

“I mean it's… okay.” He lied.

Dean contemplated his pumpkin themed food options. “Though I would rather just have pumpkin pie.”

Cas took his mug back. “Fine. More for me.” He said with a smirk, mimicking the look Dean gives him every time Cas says he doesn't want anymore bacon, before taking another sip of the makeshift pumpkin spice coffee.

Dean smiled at him, setting his own mug down and moving Cas’s out of the way to pull him into a kiss. He could smell the nutmeg almost as much as he could taste the cinnamon on his lips.

“Mmm we should bake pumpkin pie tonight.” He said, pulling away just enough so he could talk.

“I would like that.” Cas answered. “All four of us could make pie. According to the 'mom blogs', as you call them, it would be a good family bonding exercise.”

“That’s right. And if they want any pie, they gotta help make it. That means more for us if they refuse.” He grinned.

“A win-win situation, really.” Cas smiled before tugging Dean close so their lips met again.

“I love you.” Dean muttered.

“I love you too.” Cas said softly.

Behind their backs Sam and Eileen were fake-gagging at their sickly sweet interaction, but secretly just glad the two of them had finally gotten over their stubborn (and oblivious) selves.

Sam was honestly overjoyed to see his brother finally happy. He would even go as far as saying finally willing to be himself, too. (Not that he would ever say this outloud. Sam can practically see Dean’s eyes roll farther back into his head than should be possible at the words.) All four of them had gone through more shit in the last few months than any normal person would in their entire life. They were all just lucky to be alive, and with that, learning how to savour the little moments of overly sweet normalcy.

(And the pumpkin spice-life Dean had secretly been longing for since they were little kids.)

So of course they were going to help bake pie.

---

“I want to try Starbucks.” Cas said the next morning, both of them still in bed.

Dean groaned, rubbing the sleep out of his eyes. “Can I ask why, or is this one of those, 'I'll tell you later’ disasters like with the slime ingredients?”

“I want to try all the human things that I didn't get to try last time.” He said offhandedly.

Dean pictured Cas’s hurt face when he had told him he couldn’t stay, smile broken as Dean’s own heart shattered from the look the newly-human angel was giving him.

He wanted to tell him it was going to be okay, that Cas himself wasn’t the reason, but the lion in his stomach clawed the words down faster than even the thought of ruining Sam’s chances at survival could.

With a pang of guilt from the memory, Dean pulled himself closer to Cas and rested his head on the other man’s chest. He wrapped his arms around him, trying to preserve as much warmth and comfort as he could until they had to inevitably get out of bed. “Only if you let me sleep like this for thirty more minutes.”

Cas smiled. “Oh, are we making deals now?”

“I’d sell my soul for you.” Dean said cheekily, which earned a glare from Cas. “Believe me, I know.”

After a beat he went on. “Fine, you have a deal.” Before Dean could celebrate by tugging the covers over their bodies, Cas added another clause to their agreement. “But... in true Crowley fashion, you have to seal the deal with a kiss.”

Dean lazily threw his arms into the air. “Victory.”

He turned over, pulling himself upwards until he was just inches from Cas. Cradling the angel-turned-Winchester’s head in his hands, Dean placed his lips on Cas’s, melting into the touch as he felt the other man’s arms wrap around his torso.

When he broke away from the kiss, Dean found himself face to face with the most beautiful smile he had ever laid eyes on, one born from adoration and love. Cas’s eyebrows were slightly scrunched up, but for once it wasn’t a sign of confusion when met with some obscure eighties rock reference. It was a tiny expression of care, and it was one that was truly Cas. Not Jimmy’s, not even one Cas had picked up from him or Sam. It was completely and wholly Cas, and a completely and wholly human thing to do.

He realized Cas had been doing that long before the Empty stole his grace.

Dean smiled back at him, relaxed. Like taking in a deep breath after being under murky water for forty years. He brushed a loose strand of soft, brown hair into its place, before falling back into his spot and closing his eyes. “Crowley would be proud.” He whispered with a soft laugh, smile deepening as Cas joined him.

When their quiet laughter died out, there was a pause, air stagnant and in its own sleepy haze

“Oh and Dean?”

“Hm?” Dean turned his head to look at him, eyes not failing to glow with their unusually bright, green pigment. He took a deep breath, the lids of his eyes already started to slowly fall back down again.

“The slime wasn't a disaster. You enjoyed it.”

“I did.” He muttered sleepily, a loose smile forming on his lips as he drifted off to sleep. Cas laid there, running his fingers through the other man’s hair, contentment and admiration showing itself in every feature on his face.

This was more than he could have ever wanted.

---

“Dean. Dean wake up.” Cas was excitedly whisper-shouting in his ear like a kid on Christmas morning. It was exactly thirty minutes later, (he had counted), and Cas was ready to get moving.

“No.” He answered back, mimicking Cas’s tone.

“But you’re like a cat.” He teased. “You're on me and I can't get up.”

Dean sighed. “I can't believe I let you talk me into this.”

“It didn't take much convincing.”

Dean rolled over to give Cas a playful glare, but was met with the saddest puppy dog eyes he had ever seen, completely throwing him off his guard.

“I'm going to kill Sam for teaching you that.”

Cas just continued to give him that look.

“Fine.” Dean relented, sitting up with a yawn and thinking about how he will now never be able to win another argument.

“Get dressed.” Cas said excitedly. “We're going to Starbucks.”

“Hooray.” He gave a sarcastic laugh, but a smile creeped on his lips.

They walked out of their room together, heading towards the bunker’s library. Dean slid in one of the chairs, turning Sam’s still-open laptop around and waking it up.

Cas, meanwhile, turned to a random page of the lore book resting on the table and started reading in an attempt to pass the time.

The sound of Dean typing filled the air. “So, I just looked it up, and do we have to go to Starbucks?”

“Yes.” Cas said simply, not looking up from the book.

Dean groaned. “Cas there isn't one in the county, let alone Lebanon. That's probably why Sam and Eileen make their own.”

“Where's the closest one?” Cas asked, his blinding, blue eyes glaring at the back of Sam’s computer like he was trying to will the coffee shop to be near.

“I thought it was across state lines and in Nebraska at first, but it looks like there's a small one in a town called Washington. It's about 80 miles from here.”

“Let's go!” Cas excitedly straightened his trenchcoat and headed towards the door.

“Or, we could leave Starbucks to the fourteen year old girls.”

Cas turned back around and rolled his eyes. “Yes, I’m sure their entire demographic is fourteen year old girls, staff included.”

Alright, smartass. Dean thought, struggling to hide a smile.

Cas walked out the door, expecting Dean to follow.

“It takes an hour to get there, our coffee’s going to be cold by the time we get home, and it's freezing outside.” Dean muttered under his breath, but he grabbed his keys off the table and stood up, willing to follow Cas to the ends of the earth if it meant he would stay with him.

Not that he was going to enjoy this trip. In fact, he was currently doing the opposite of enjoying, and they hadn’t even gotten into the car yet. Starbucks. Starbucks. Really, Cas? Of all the places he wanted to go, it had to be Starbucks. He couldn’t want to explore humanity through Target or something?

Even Claire wouldn’t be caught dead in that place, with all the frou-frou toppings, elaborate drink mixes, and colourful, drizzled syrup. The people who go to Starbucks are the kind of people who like coffee that doesn’t taste like coffee. Teenage girls who might as well just be drinking whip cream, and that was without considering the seasonal drinks they fawn over.

Seasonal drinks that shouldn’t legally be allowed to be referred to as coffee.

Dean couldn’t believe he ever agreed to this, but still, he begrudgingly followed.

---

Using the GPS on Cas’s phone, (Dean said his insane directional skills helped out too), they found the Starbucks relatively easily once they were in the little town.

They parked the Impala, and Dean looked at the modern building. The green lettering contrasted with the tan plaster walls, spelling “Starbucks.”

He heard Cas get out, his feet making a crunching noise as they hit the gravel, and watched from across the top of the car as he started towards the coffee shop. Dean looked at the building warily, reluctance painted on his face.

Cas was telling him some random fact about a bird he saw, but Dean could only think about his reputation that was about to shatter like a vase dropping on tile floor.

Reputation with who? He didn't know.

Well, he had a vague idea, but chose not to let his thoughts wander that far.

It was okay. This was fine. He could swallow his pride and-

“Ooh. The peppermint mocha looks good.” Cas was reading the limited edition drinks on the drive-thru menu as they traveled across the parking lot.

Dean was going to barf.

They walked into the building, immediately hit with the overwhelming smell of excessive amounts of flavoured syrup indoused coffee. Dean glanced around the well-lit building, taking note of the many different people there.

(He wasn’t about to have any black-eyed minions reporting his Starbucks order to a very judgmental Queen of Hell.)

Cas pushed Dean’s protesting body into the line, looking pleased with the many different options written on the menu overhead.

He enjoyed the small touch of Cas’s hands on his back, moving him forwards to the line, but was grateful Cas was careful not to let them linger there too long.

He was still wary about doing… this, in public.

He knew Cas was patiently waiting for him to be ready, so he didn't know how to tell him that he might never be.

The teenager working the cash register interrupted his train of thought. “What will it be for ya?”

“I would like a peppermint mocha please.”

“Alrighty. And you?”

“I'll take just a black coffee.”

The barista looked unimpressed. “And your names?”

Dean grinned. “John and John.”

“No relation.” Cas added.

The barista just sighed. “How do you want me to differentiate the two of ‘em then?”

“Oh you can put ‘John Bonham’ on mine.” Dean replied.

“Comin’ right up.” Their tone didn't change, still just full of apathy that could only be perfected by the work of a burnt-out teenager.

Dean and Cas walked down to the end of the counter and towards the pickup section. “Now tell me, Castiel.” He stressed his partner’s name. “Who’s John Bonham?”

Cas sighed, but the corner of his mouth upturned in a grin. “John Henry Bohnham, affectionately referred to as ‘Bonzo’, born in 1948 and was most well known for being the drummer of the rock band ‘Led Zeppelin’.”

“Mmm very close, but unfortunately you forgot the word ‘best’ in front of ‘rock band.’” Dean smirked before leaning in for a chaste kiss.

“You should have said I was ‘John Bon Jovi.’” Cas said, smiling.

“Why? Because you’re only good at this sometimes?” Dean closed the gap between them.

As soon as their lips met, Dean pulled away instinctively, realization hitting him like a hunter with a bat as his eyes widened in terror. “I-I'm sorry, I didn’t...” His words faltered as he looked around at the people sitting in the coffee shop, all of which were paying no mind to them.

He felt sick, guilt gnawing at him from a pit in his stomach.

“Hey, it's okay Dean. You know I'm perfectly fine with public displays of affection, and no one else even saw us. There's no need to apologize.”

“Yeah-h.” He said shakily. Before he could figure out who he was apologizing to, a voice from behind the counter called.

“I have an order for a mister ‘John’ and ‘John Bonham’.”

“That's us.” Dean spat the words out quickly, turning around to take them from the barista’s hand. He rushed out of the door, the small tinkling sound of the welcome bell and the blood rushing to his ears drowning out the sound of Cas’s call from behind.

He sat in the front seat of Baby, knowing he was being childish. Dean took a shaky breath and tried not to think about it.

About what the hell he was thinking, kissing Cas out in public like that. The judgemental eyes- black or not- that were watching. He thought about what his father would say, mind instantly going back to a moment in his childhood he has tried to forget since it happened, wondering where he went wrong.

About the time John had caught him and Lee, ignoring the weak excuses Dean was stuttering out. Skipping town faster than they had done in years.

About how the left side of his face had been a yellow-ish purple for weeks following, and the sore spot on his arm from where he caught the pavement as he flew towards it.

About how he had told Sam he just fell on a hunt. “Don't worry kid, you should have seen the vamp when I was done with him.” He swung his fist around in slow motion, pretending to punch an invisible enemy as his little brother giggled in childish bliss.

About how John never looked at him the same. The disgust in his eyes, harsh words on his lips.

About how he vowed to never disappoint his father like that again, and their joint hatred for that part of him. Sometimes it felt like the only thing they could agree on.

About how somewhere, somehow, he had decided Cas was different. That he somehow didn’t count, and that losing him hurt so much, was such an egregious pain, he wanted as much of Cas as he was allowed to have. And how that was something insurmountable stronger than the twisted, sick feeling John had placed in his gut.

He remembered something Cas had told him once: “Hatred isn’t a natural trait, Dean, it’s a learned one. A baby isn’t born with the ability to hate, it’s passed on from one broken soul to another. Love, love however. That’s something different altogether.”

Cas’s hand on his shoulder pulled Dean out of his thoughts. “Hey.” He said softly.

“Hey Cas.”

“I love you.” He got in the passenger's seat, taking his coffee from Dean’s still frozen hand.

“I love you too.” He whispered absentmindedly, staring straight ahead and seeing nothing but thoughts from the past. His mind fighting an internal battle, logic telling him that what he had with Cas wasn’t wrong, and even though everything from fate to God had tried to wedge itself between them, it was still the most right thing he had. And he knew that, but his dad’s drunken, booming voice echoed throughout his head, telling him that he was dirty. Telling him the Winchester men had no place for someone like him.

“You better stop that now, boy. Bad things happen to you when you’re weak.”

At the time he had taken that as a warning, rather than a threat. But now Dean wasn’t so sure.

It’s not even that his Dad was particularly religious. He wasn’t told that it was a sin, or that he was going to Hell. Though it’s not like that particular statement would have been wrong. He thought with a bitter laugh.

While the thoughts in his head were screaming mercilessly, the drive home was in a simple silence. The only noise being Cas’s occasional sip, and the sound of soft fabric rubbing against skin as Cas moved his hand in small, comforting motions against Dean's back.

When they got to the bunker, Cas, who was genuinely impressed that Dean managed to drive them home without crashing into a tree, pulled Dean out of the car and gently shook him out of his self-imposed stupor.

“Your coffee's cold.” Cas said with a laugh.

Dean blinked a couple times, clearing the fog from his mind, before laughing along with him. “And who’s fault is that? You were the one who insisted on traveling across the state to get it.”

“Do you want some of mine?” Cas asked. “There's a little bit left, and I held it next to the heater. It should still be lukewarm.”

“No thanks, Cas. I can go make some in the kitchen.”

“But what if I want you to try it?” Dean glared at him. “Don't make me do Sam’s ‘puppy dog eyes’ again.”

“Okay, okay. You win.” He put his hands up, mimicking a surrender. “I'll try some of your stupid, Christmas cookie, candy-cane flavoured coffee thing or whatever.” They started walking towards the entrance to the bunker.

“Peppermint mocha?”

“That's the one.”

Cas laughed at him.

“Oh just, give it here.” Dean said. He took a long sip from the disposable cup. He could taste a vague hint of whipped cream mixed in with the coffee, its light fluffy texture sticking to the last swallow of smooth liquid in the bottom of the cup. The chocolate and espresso rested on his tongue, and the peppermint was strong and refreshing. He took another sip.

“Does that face mean you like it?”

Dean looked at him guiltily. “No.” He opened the bunker’s door and started walking down the metal stairs.

“Yes you do.”

“No, I don't.”

“You took a second sip.”

Dean reached the bottom of the stairs first, and walked over to the War Room table to set both coffee cups and his keys down.

“So? I was trying to make sure I properly understood the flavour. Since when is that a crime?”

“You wanted to properly understand a flavour you didn't like?” Cas walked up to Dean and pulled the nearest chair out to sit down.

“What are you two arguing about this time?” Eileen asked from the library.

Cas clenched both of his hands into fists, putting the right one on top of the other. He made small, circular, stirring motions with his right hand. “Coffee.” He signed swiftly, movements fluid.

“Ah. That makes sense.” She spoke the words.

“What makes sense?” Sam asked, walking in from one of the hallways, making sure Eileen could see his lips before speaking.

“They're arguing over coffee again.”

Sam glanced at both of them, before his eyes reached the two cups on the War Room table.

“Wait a second… Dean?” He looked at his brother, before turning to face his best friend. “Cas?”

“Yes, Sam?” Cas answered.

“Did you two go to Starbucks?”

“I don't want to talk about it.” Dean grumbled.

“Yes, we did!” Cas sounded way too excited to be referring to coffee. “I got a peppermint mocha, and Dean tried some and liked it.”

“I did not.”

“I don't care what coffee you like, Dean. What I do care about is that you went all the way to Starbucks, and didn't bother to ask if we wanted to come.”

“Not cool Dean.” Eileen walked in, shaking her head and hiding a smile.

“I might have thought about buying you two drinks, but there was no way I was ordering yours with a straight face.” He looked at Sam. “And it's an hour away, they wouldn't have been hot or cold or whatever they're supposed to be by the time we got here.”

“Well then we'll just have to go back, all four of us.” Eileen put simply.

“It's an hour away.”

“We know.” Sam added.

“Let me say that again, in case you weren’t listening. It's an hour away. For coffee. That isn't even that good.”

“I beg to differ, Dean.” Cas said.

“Yeah I'm definitely with Cas on this one.” Eileen agreed while Sam nodded along.

“No. There's no way I'm getting back in Baby to drive all the way to Starbucks again.”

“Fine. We’ll go get our own.”

“With what car?” Dean said, very sure of himself.

Sam snatched Baby’s keys off the war room table, which in hindsight was probably something Dean should have expected.

“Let's hope Sam doesn't have too many shots of espresso.” Eileen said, faking concern. “I would hate for your baby to pay the price.”

“Fine. I'll drive you.” Dean grumbled while Eileen double fist-pumped her win.

Cas looked very pleased with the thought of getting to try more coffee.

---

They left shortly after, the drive over painful for everyone except Dean, who listened to the same four songs on repeat the entire hour.

(It’s their own fault, really.)

---

“Can we please listen to something other than Bob Seger on the trip home?” Sam complained as he slammed shut the door to Baby’s backseat.

“You’re just mad you didn’t get shotgun.” Dean said, closing his own door. “Besides, driver picks the music, everyone else shuts their cakehole.” Sam mouthed the words along with Dean, having heard the speech a million times before.

Eileen and Cas got out, neither one of them had any desire to input on their squabble, and were instead engaged in their own, quieter discussion.

Both brothers continued to argue until they walked into the Starbucks.

“Ah. There's the scent of overpriced coffee I missed.” Eileen joked as she took her first breath inside the building, using her hand to waft the smell towards her.

“What are you getting?” Cas asked Sam.

“I want my usual, and Eileen, what are you having?”

“Hot chocolate with espresso shots please. This place doesn't sell liquor.” She shook her head sadly and Sam laughed. “Good thing I brought my own.” She winked at them, opening her jacket just enough so they could see the inside pocket and showing off her flask.

“Oh, now that would be a Starbucks I would go to.” Dean said.

“You two wait in line.” Sam pointed to Cas and Dean. “We’ll save a table.”

Dean looked like he wanted to protest, but they walked away before he had the chance. Cas leaned over towards him. “Don't worry. I'll order Sam’s.” He very conspicuously winked.

Dean smiled at his attempts of regular human interaction, before over-the-top winking himself.

“Can you order for us? I need to talk to Sam about something.”

“Sure thing…” Cas had to think before finishing his sentence. “...buckaroo.”

Dean outwardly cringed. “Keep trying, you'll get there eventually.” He patted Cas on the back, which was slightly moving in a chuckle.

It was good to see Cas filled with so much simple joy. Face creased from laughter rather than stress, he seemed so much lighter. Happier. It was only a small sliver of what he deserved, but it was something. Maybe he could live with driving an hour to get what he assumed was half-decent coffee.

“What would you like?” Cas asked him, eyes still filled with a sparkle that only comes from gaining something you thought you lost.

“Uh.” He thought about it for a moment, almost considering branching out into the unexplored terrain that was the dark green menu with small, white text, before shuddering at the thought.

“I think I'll take that expensive black coffee I didn't get earlier.”

Dean was not going to turn into one of those people, if he had any say about it.

Cas walked into the line, leaving Dean to scan the room, furiously waving Sam over when his eyes found their booth.

“Sam.” He sounded like he was trying to whisper, but his volume raised far higher than that. The patron closest to Dean gave him a look before turning back to their work.

“Sam, come here, it's urgent.” His brother turned to look at him, rolling his eyes before getting out of the booth.

“What do you want?” He said once he reached Dean.

“Sam. Help. What do I do?”

“About what?”

“About what kind of coffee Cas is having.”

“Oh god, Dean let it go. He's not going to only ever drink black coffee. Contrary to popular belief, former angels do actually have souls.”

Dean ignored the implications that he didn't have a soul, too distracted by Cas. “But look.” He motioned his head towards where Cas was standing, next in line to order. “He’s eyeing the weird fruity drinks.”

“Dean. It's Cas. The man’s favorite food is PB&J. What did you expect him to have, taste?”

“Alright that's rich coming from mister Pinkity Drinkity or whatever the fuck.”

“You walked into a Starbucks and ordered black coffee, I don't think I'm the wrong one here.”

“Wait, wait. Shut up. Quiet.” He hit Sam on the shoulder in a childish attempt at getting him to stop talking so he could listen.

“Ow. That hurt.” Sam muttered, before turning to watch Cas, which Dean was already doing.

“I would like to try a…” Cas methodically scanned the menu again. “A ‘Passion Tango Iced Tea,’ please.” The barista took no mind to the excessive air quotes.

“It's not even coffee.” Dean said to Sam, clearly distraught. He turned to look back at Cas.

“And your name sir?”

“Lizzo.”

Dean threw his arms up into the air. “I can't believe this is the man I love.” His voice cracked like he was holding in tears of anguish from listening to Cas order.

Sam just rolled his eyes at the theatrics. Right, and he’s the dramatic one.

“Aw. You're in love.” Sam held his hands up, forming a heart and mocking his brother.

“Oh shut up. What are you, seven?”

“Is Cas your gay thing?”

“You shut your mo-”

“What are we gossiping about?” Eileen whispered, cutting Dean off and causing them both to jump.

“We're not gossiping.” Sam said indignantly.

“Sam started it.”

“Jerk.”

“Bitch.”

“This is where I call you two ‘asshats’, right?”

“It's ‘assbutt.’” Cas said, walking up to them and catching the tail end of their conversation. “And that's my line.”

Cas handed them each their drinks, before excitedly trying his own. He put the plastic cup up to his mouth, almost missing the straw. When he swallowed the cranberry-colored liquid, his face relaxed in pleasure.

“I know this one isn't coffee, but it's really good.”

“We didn't get coffee either.” Eileen said. “So don't worry, Dean's the odd man out here.”

Dean glared at her before trying his own coffee, and well, it was coffee. The point of buying expensive caffeine still went straight over his head.

The four of them went over to their thankfully-still-available booth and sat down. Dean and Cas sat on one side, both instinctively choosing the side that faced the door, with Sam and Eileen sliding into the seats directly across from them. They sat there, talking about nothing in particular, and certainly nothing of importance, before falling into the natural art of storytelling.

Aside from killing monsters, that’s what hunters did best. Sitting around and sharing stories. As tiring and dangerous as their lives were, some hunts were worth sharing exaggerated and hyperbolic versions of, especially over drinks.

Sam’s favourite story to tell changed every time, and one would almost be inclined to believe that most of it wasn't real, but the wildest parts also caused the most merriment. (Dean pretended he hadn’t witnessed the whole thing, sparing Sam by not telling the other two how it actually went down.)

Eileen shared of her time in Ireland. “Foreign country, foreign monsters.” She said with a wink, telling of creatures neither Sam nor Dean had even read about.

Dean’s favourite story to tell, aside from the fact that he killed Hitler, was the time he got to solve a mystery with everyone’s favorite talking dog. And yeah, all three of the people that sat at the table had heard both many times before, but that didn't matter, it was still enrapturing to hear them again.

Cas had millenniums to choose from, but always found the most interesting hunts to be the ones with the Winchesters. He also had many hilarious stories about his adventures with Crowley, but he was less fond of those.

“I remember once, Dean went on a hunt with Dad.” Sam started. “Nasty vampire, it got a hit or two on Dean. I think you guys went with another hunter. Young. About your age, actually. Uh…”

He snapped his fingers, trying to recall the name. “Lee. That's it.” Dean looked up from the coffee right as Sam said it. “Do you remember him?”

Something flashed in Dean’s eyes, but his brother didn't seem to notice.

Cas, who was used to admiring every minute detail of Dean's expression and posture, didn't miss the ever so slight, yet sharp, inhale. Or the way he swallowed before speaking, trying to clear the small lump from his throat.

Dean noticed too, internally rolling his eyes at his own reaction.

“Yeah it's been a while, but I remember him.” Dean was blatantly ignoring Cas’s burning stare from beside him, and the fact that he had stabbed Lee through the chest just last year.

Cas made sure no one was watching before gently placing a hand on Dean’s thigh. Knowing it would comfort him from both intuition and experience. Dean stiffened under the touch, but after realizing no one could see where Cas’s hand was, he visibly relaxed.

“What happened to him?” Eileen asked innocently.

“Oh uh, a hunt I think. Most of us go that way, I assume he was no different.” Technically Dean dealt the final blow, but it was the entrancing call of the monster, greed, and the life Lee and Dean had both secretly wanted, that caused his former-friend’s downfall in the end.

“Yeah.” Sam said solemnly, suddenly lost in his own thoughts, most of which were riddled with grief.

They sat in silence for a few minutes, letting the weight of their many losses wash over them like a tidal wave.

One made of espresso and milk rather than the rough waters of the sea.

---

The ride back was more manageable, Dean allowing them one song choice each, complete with a warning to pick wisely.

(They all very cheekily chose the songs they knew would bother Dean the most.)

---

Full on coffee, cookies Dean bought for them at Starbucks, and brimming with contentment, (as well as the fact that they spent half the day in the car), Cas suggested to Dean that they “hit the hay” as they stepped back into the bunker.

They laid there in silence, breathing in scents of comfort, coffee, and each other, until Cas eventually drifted off to sleep.

Dean, however, continued to lay there. Thinking.

He remembered the first solo case John sent him on.

Something curled inside his gut.

They had been two nuns, their fate a product of hate crime. Put to death for simply being themselves.

Dean didn't blame them for coming back as ghosts.

He remembered the words - ones he would soon learn were slurs - that John would spit out like acid.

Or offhandedly toss like they didn't bear enough weight to shatter the window of a person's self-image.

It had taken him almost forty years to realize that very same window inside of him was in sharp, jagged pieces. Cutting anyone and everyone who came near.

It had taken Cas dying to start picking them up again.

He turned to look at the man next to him, relaxed and blissfully sleeping. His chest moved up and down rhythmically, and Dean slowed his breath to match until he fell into a surprisingly peaceful slumber.

---

When Dean woke up, the other side of his bed was cold.

He didn't panic, knowing full well that Cas probably ran to the bathroom, or was pouring another mountain of sugar in his coffee.

Losing Cas again to the Empty had ripped him apart, but months of spending every night with his partner left him with less nightmares and waking in cold sweats then he had since before Hell.

Dean also learned that his own presence was enough to fight off the demons of solid, black goo that plagued Cas’s head at night.

He was finally starting to understand why life seemed to lose all meaning when Cas was gone, and from there he could slowly start to rebuild both of them.

Dean heard soft padding noises as socked feet walked down the hall, and there was a knock on the bedroom door. "S'your room too, Cas. You don't have to knock." He laughed, words slightly slurred from just waking up

Cas walked in, wielding two mugs of coffee and a proud look shining in his eyes. “I made us coffee.” He said triumphantly, handing one of the mugs to Dean.

“I put chocolate and peppermint in your coffee.”

Dean fake-gasped. “You monster. Ruining the integrity of my drink like that.”

“I'm a human, you ass.” Cas responded, a smile tugging at his lips. “Besides, I know you liked mine yesterday.”

“I did not.” He said, discontentedly crossing his arms. “I only drink coffee that's as black as my soul. Darker than the night sky. Hotter than the bunker’s computer when it overheats. As manly as-”

“Oh, just drink your damn coffee.”

“Fine.” He groused. “But I'm not enjoying it.”

Cas raised an eyebrow at him, before setting his mug on the bedside table and sitting down behind Dean. The bed creaked underneath him as he leaned forward and wrapped his arms around Dean’s waist. “Is this why you and Sam never use umbrellas?” He joked.

Dean laughed.

Cas rested his head on the crook of Dean’s neck and whispered. “You know you don't have to pretend.”

“Pretend what?” Dean asked softly.

“You know.”

“That I don’t like flavoured coffee?” He said with a snort.

“Sort of.” Cas hugged him tighter. “No one’s going to think any less of you Dean. You’re allowed to like the things you like.”

“I know.” He resigned.

“John isn't here anymore.”

“I know.”

“I love you.”

“I know.” The words barely came out as a whisper, hot tears betraying Dean’s eyes as they silently leaked out and ran down his cheeks.

He tried to wipe the tears away, hearing his Dad’s voice in his head and knowing he was being stupid.

Dean couldn't help but think of himself as a small, living-room window, from an old, dilapidated house. Stained yellow with age. Cracking from wear.

He let the drumming of his Dad’s words in his head be drowned out by Cas’s voice.

He couldn't unwrap the fuzz from around him, so he didn't know what Cas was saying, ears seemingly filled with cotton. It was just the knowledge alone that he was there. That he was holding him and whispering comforting words into his ear. That even as a human he could heal Dean at his lowest points, and still see him as the brightest, strongest, soul.

You don't really know what a picture is going to be until it's done.

Maybe that window is a beautiful stained-glass portrait.

“Uh.” Dean cleared his throat. “What-what do you have?” He indicated Cas’s coffee by angling his head towards where it sat on the nightstand.

“I made iced coffee.”

Dean just looked at him, astounded, eyes widening. “You mean it’s not hot?”

“Yes, that's where the ‘iced’ in ‘iced coffee’ comes from.” He said very seriously.

They both sat in silence for the next hour, peacefully drinking their coffee and enjoying the presence of one another.

---

When they got out of bed and ventured into the rest of the bunker, they found Sam and Eileen in the library.

They were sitting in adjacent chairs, with Eileen laying her head on Sam’s shoulder and reaching for her water bottle on the table. They were reading a book together, but Eileen shook Sam indicating she had seen them walk in.

“Goodmorning.” She greeted cheerfully.

“Mornin’.” Dean pulled up a chair across from them, and watched as Cas did the same.

“What are you two reading?” Cas asked.

“The Men of Letters’s Bestiary.” Sam said.

Dean snorted. “Ah. Doing a little light reading are we?”

“We're thinking about filling in some of the pages.” Eileen added.

“Yeah, for all of the stuff they have here, it's surprisingly empty.” Sam continued flipping through some of the pages, most of which were blank.

“Heh. I should put you in that thing, Cas.”

Cas let out a laugh. “Right. Because I’m a good example of an angel.” The sarcasm was masking something else in his voice.

“If it makes you feel any better, you’ve always been my favourite angel.” Dean only realised how sappy he sounded after it came out of his mouth.

“Yeah, I’ve heard the rest of them are dicks.” Eileen added.

Cas smiled at that, seemingly back to normal.

“Right, well you three can do that, I'm off to the Dean Cave.”

“Or…” Sam started.

“We could go back to Starbucks.” Cas finished, nodding his head enthusiastically.

“Yeah... that's not where I was going with that, but I like where your head’s at, Cas. We should definitely go back.”

“Eileen?” He asked.

“Hell yeah.”

“Dean?”

Dean pressed his mouth into a thin line and glared at him. “Yes, sure, fine. But we're not making this a daily thing.”

“That's fair.” Cas agreed. “It's probably not very healthy.”

He went to grab his wallet and keys before Sam could start his speech on the nutritional value of green things, and Eileen snatched her water bottle off the library table as they all got up to leave.

---

Dean gave up on letting them choose the music after snickering and requesting “Friday” by Rebecca Black for the third time in a row.

(It wasn't even Friday?)

---

Dean stepped out and closed Baby’s door in the parking lot of Starbucks an hour later, kicking the loose pieces of gravel on the asphalt for the third time in two days.

“We might as well just live here.” He said, tone dripping with sarcasm.

“I wouldn't make that offer if I were you, Cas looks like he’d be totally on board.” Sam laughed.

Cas went and stood beside Dean as they started walking towards the building, smiling.

“What?” Dean asked, question genuine and free of all malice.

“Nothing.” Cas answered, smile not faltering.

His eyes revealed nothing but pure devotion for the man he was staring at. A silent promise, one without pressure, that he would be standing there, and Dean could take the leap anytime he wanted.

Dean was slowly inching towards the end of the diving board.

---

“I think I'll just drink my water.”

“Oh that's exciting.” Sam joked. “If I got you a lemon to go with it, would you be able to handle that?”

“Don't talk to me about my drink, when yours is a vivid green puke colour.”

“Hey, at least it actually has a colour. And a flavour at that.”

Dean couldn’t believe those words were coming from the same man who drinks exactly a hundred and one ounces of water a day. (Which, according to Sam, is the recommended amount for males, as stated by the Institute of Medicine.)

(Dean didn’t care.)

“Fine then.” She turned to look at Dean. “Get me the strongest thing on the menu.”

Dean laughed before turning to Cas. “Let's just go get in line before we suffer at the hands of the Leahy like Sam.”

Sam and Eileen went to look for a place where they could all sit again, playfully bickering the entire way.

While he was standing in line with Cas, Dean looked over at his brother, and found him and Eileen sitting at a small table in the corner.

Cas was still helping him learn ASL, so he caught parts of their conversation.

“If Jack is in every drop of rain, do you think he's in your water?” Sam signed, trying to contain his laughter.

Eileen pushed her water away with a look of disgust. “You’re lucky I love you.” She answered back.

“I know I am.”

He watched her silently laugh before turning back to look at Cas.

They really did have it good, didn't they?

“What are you ordering, Dean?”

Dean stood there silently, contemplating. He internally weighed his pros and cons, mind leaving the menu entirely. While there was still a lot of shit he had to work through, (shit he had been actively not working out his entire life), there wasn’t much of a decision to be made.

He would always choose Cas.

“You know what?” He reached out and grasped Cas’s hand firmly. “I was thinking about being less boring. What ingredients do you suggest I try?”

Cas smiled warmly, reaching the crinkled corners of his eyes. “They have a cinnamon flavoured one. That’ll be almost like apple pie.”

“Will it really?” Dean’s tone was dismissive, but there was a smile on his face.

“Yes, Sam told me.“

“Not that I trust Sam’s judgment, but okay, I think I’ll take one of those.”

“I'm going to have a real pumpkin spice latte this time.” Cas seemed very pleased with the aspect of buying something they could make it home, but Dean wasn't going to fault him for it.

The patron in front of them finished ordering, clearing the way for Cas and Dean. The barista from the first time they went caught sight of them and made a face. “Wait a minute. I think I know you two.”

“Yes, we came here yesterday.” Cas helped. “Well, we actually visited twice, but you weren't working the second time.”

“Right... John and John, how could I forget?”

“This time we're ordering for four though.”

“I would like a…” Dean squinted at the menu, looking for the cinnamon flavoured coffee. “‘Cinnamon Dolce Latte.’ And my devilishly handsome friend here will take the pumpkin spice version.”

“And what are the other two drinks and names?”

Dean whispered something in Cas’s ear. “I'll drink the coffee, but I won't budge on this one.”

“That's okay Dean, you’ll get there eventually.” He whispered back.

The barista looked unimpressed with them. Again.

Dean cleared his throat. “Ahem, sorry. The tall one with the stupidly long hair,” he pointed towards Sam, “is getting…” he trailed off before looking to Cas for help.

“I don't know, man. It was something sickly looking. Cold? Green? Possibly tea?”

“And Iced Green Tea Latte?” The barista suggested.

“That's the one. His name is Jimmy.”

“And the lovely lady sitting next to him would like the strongest drink you have. Her name is Robert.”

“Her name is Robert…?” He slowly pointed towards Eileen, sounding unsure of himself.

Or them.

“Yup.” Cas said.

Eileen gave a little wave from across the room.

He gritted his teeth in a very clearly fake smile. “Coming right up.”

They paid for their coffee and picked it up, taking the travel cups across the room and towards Sam and Eileen.

Cas took a sip from his pumpkin spice latte, gleefully smiling. “As much as I like trying different drinks, I think I might start just getting this one. It's my favourite.”

Sam leaned over to Dean, neither one taking their eyes off of Cas. “Should we tell him the drink is seasonal?” He glanced at Sam, before staring back at his partner, whose face was beaming like a literal ray of sunshine.

Dean’s face softened. “Nah. Let’s not ruin his moment.” He took a sip of his cinnamon coffee and damn, it was delicious.

Nothing at all like apple pie, but still delicious.

Cas walked over to him, making eye contact in a silent question. Dean nodded with a small smile, and Cas took his hand.

“I love you.” Cas whispered.

“I love you too.” He whispered back.

They didn’t whisper to hide, and it wasn't because he was ashamed. It was because that exchange was just for them.

Dean leaned in and softly kissed Cas.

Now that was to tell everyone in the shop that his devilishly handsome friend was spoken for.

Slowly, the sun would come out and shine through the stained-glass window, shadow portraying the picture of an angel.

And alright, fine, Dean could admit that he enjoyed the peppermint mocha.

He thought about it for a moment, before giving a light chuckle, realising something.

“What?” Cas asked, turning to look at him with a soft smile resting on his face.

“Nothing.” Dean whispered, squeezing Cas’s hand in his. He took a sip from his coffee, relishing in the warm and cozy flavour enrapturing his tongue.

He was only thinking that maybe, just maybe,

Cas had changed him too.

---

Bonus Epilogue:

Dean held the glass door open for the other three, and they all walked out onto the asphalt, laughing, and making their way towards Baby.

The street lamp overhead flickered, and all four of them froze.

“Did anyone happen to get the salted caramel macchiato?” Dean whispered.

---

-This fic on Ao3 (Kudos and comments would be greatly appreciated.)

-Writing Tag

-Ao3

-Request fics/drabbles/ficlets. (Please)

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divinedoggo · 3 years

Text

Hell’s Kitchen

Summary: You offended the King of Curses with your subpar cooking. So he teaches you a lesson you’ll never forget.

Tag(s)/Warning(s): Cursing, slight blood

---

“What is this?”

You flinch as a plate of omurice slams right on the coffee table beside you. The fried egg nearly flies off the plate and chucks of food dislodge from the plate unto the floor. Looming over you, looking ready to throttle you, was Ryomen Sukuna, the infamous King of Curses and a freeloader in your best friend’s, Itadori Yuji, body.

“It’s...omurice…you know food? You didn’t forget about food while sealed away, did you?” You attempt to go back to what you were doing. The curse tuts in annoyance before he grabs you by the scruff of your neck and jabs a finger at your dish like you were a disobedient pet.

“The fuck? I’m not some ca- “

“You call this food?! I’ve seen curses that look better than this!” He grabs the dish from the table and proceeds to point out every component in your dish. Each critique felt like a bullet to your pride as the curse lists off each sin.

“You cut the vegetables too big and almost caused the brat choke on it! The vegetables are undercooked and lack any flavor!”

“You overcooked the egg, the signature component! Are you trying to cook food or create rubber! I could use this egg as a frisbee!” To emphasize his point, he proceeds to grab the egg and throw it out the window. A loud crash from the distance could be heard followed by the blare of a car alarm.

Sukuna then proceeds to slam the plate again on the coffee table and scoop some of the rice to shove in your face.

“And how?! HOW?! How do you manage to make the rice both SOGGY and DRY at the same time!” Sukuna gags from the disgusting memory and grabs your glass of water to drink. “And its over salted…. If I didn’t know any better, I would have thought you were trying to kill him.”

“Well Yuji seemed to like it!” You crossed your arms and turned away from him with a huff. “He always eats what I serve him.”

And that’s true. Some days when Yuji visits from Jujutsu Tech, you go out of your way to make him food because you wanted an excuse to have him stick around longer. Yuji, the sweet cinnamon roll he is, gladly accepts any of your meals and always finishes them without complaints.

“That brat would eat cardboard soaked in milk if you served it to him!” To add salt to the wound, he summons his flames and burns what remains of the omurice to ash.

“Well, what would you know about cooking? I doubt terrorizing the province from back then gives you five-star qualifications!” You huffed.

“I don’t need five of these five “stars” to teach a worm like you how to not poison a man.” He storms away from you to escape into the kitchen.

“Worm, I sho- wait what?” You gawk at him in confusion as he disappears behind the counter and emerges with an apron.

“Get in here! NOW!” An apron flew into your face and nearly knocks you out from the sheer force.

You mumbled complaints under your breath as you tied the apron on before you joined Sukuna in the kitchen as he sets up his station and laid out the knives.

The next hour becomes the worst series of cooking lessons of your life as you endure insults of all kinds as he demonstrates how to properly cook.

The curse chops the vegetables with surprising skill that rivals the chefs you see on tv. You copied his movements to the best of your ability and find yourself enjoying the steady sound of the knife meeting the cutting board.

Then the real cooking phase starts and it all goes down from there.

“You added to much oil to the pan!” The curse throws a paper towel at you and forces you to clean up the pan.

“You need to turn down the heat!” He takes the pan to cool down as he turns down the oven knob.

Despite the king’s best efforts, you still find a way to burn the egg due to you scrolling through your phone.

As punishment, he takes your second overcooked egg and slaps it on your head. Tears leaks out the corners of your eyes as you try to gather what sense you have left.

“WHAT ARE YOU!” The king of curses grabs you by the jaw and forces you to look him in the eyes as his nails dig into your cheeks.

“An omu-iot…” You cry out as he tightens his grip with a threat. “An omu-iot, Sukuna-dono!”

Despite the rough treatment, despite all the insults, and almost getting your face cut to ribbons…

The omurice tasted divine.

#jujutsu kaisen #sukuna #yuji itadori #jujutsu kaisen itadori #yuji x reader #cooking classes #ryomen sukuna #jjk itadori #itadori yuuji scenarios #sukuna scenario #jjk scenarios #writing #sfw

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tcsauaskblog · 4 years

Note

What's the most wholesome thing Gladstone has ever done for Donald? ps: this blog gives me life

Gladstone can't cook. Sure, he could probably whip up something and have it taste moderately ok, but that was just his luck kicking in. It’s not like he knew what he was doing.

‘Oatmeal’s so easy it’s practically cheating,’ he remembers Della saying a forgotten amount of years ago. And if Della could cook anything even remotely edible, then surely Gladstone would have no problems. It would be fine. He totally had this in the bag.

He looked up from his table of ingredients to the home phone hanging on the wall and had the fleeting thought of calling Gran. Not because he couldn’t do it or needed any help or anything, but just to be sure for assurance's sake.

But no, he couldn’t call her even if he wanted to. Gran had taken Del and Feth up to the mountains for an overnight Woodchuck retreat and wouldn’t be within phone service till Sunday.

Meaning Gladstone was on his own.

Gladstone rolled up his sleeves and gave a huff of determination. Like he thought, he’d be fine. Making dumb oatmeal was totally within his capabilities. Prepare yourself world, Gladstone was about to rewrite history and make the best freaking oatmeal ever!

He turned on the stovetop under a saucepan of water and brought it to a boil before adding in a cup of oats. He doesn’t really know what else you put into oatmeal besides, well, oats, but he had a distinct memory of Don’s oatmeal always tasting sweet and cinnamony, so he adds a spoonful of cinnamon and honey and keeps stirring.

Somewhere in the back of his head, Gladstone thinks Don usually puts more stuff into his, making it taste creamy and sweet and delicious. But asking Don about it would seem like he lost this battle and Gladstone would not give Donald that satisfaction, so he pushes the thought out of his head and keeps stirring till the oats seemed soft enough.

Turning the stovetop off and letting the oats cool down a bit, Gladstone cuts up an orange and makes some honey lemon tea before putting everything on a tray and making his way upstairs.

He knocks on his cousins’ door twice, but doesn't wait for an answer as he opens it anyway and walks into the dark room.

“Wakey wakey, eggs and.. well... ok so I didn’t make any bacon. Or eggs. But get up anyway, I have something better,” Gladstone sing songs as he balances the tray on his hip and uses his other hand to flip the light switch on.

The lump of blankets in Donald’s bed shifted as soon as Gladstone walked in the door, but it was another few seconds of jostled movement before a head poked out of the pile of quilts and glared at Gladstone.

“Go away,” Donald practically growled, and Gladstone had to forcibly stop himself from flinching at how scratchy and gravely Don’s voice was.

“No can do patient zero, I’m your self designated nurse for the next two days whether you like it or not,” Gladstone says, grabbing Della’s desk chair as he walked over to Don’s bed.

“Since when?” Donald croaks again, and buries his head under the blankets once more just as Gladstone took a seat beside him.

“Since you collapsed in the field a couple of hours ago with a 102-degree fever and nearly gave Gus and I a heart attack,” Gladstone comments as he sets the tray down on the bedside table beside them. “Gus is fine by the way, I sent him back to Cuthbert’s a little while ago after he helped carry you in. What have you been eating lately anyway? Took us nearly five minutes to haul you up here.”

“Shut up,” Donald groaned again before poking a one-eyed glare at Gladstone from under the blanket. “They couldn’t send a prettier and nicer nurse?”

“Excuse you, I’m the prettiest and nicest nurse in this joint. You’re lucky to have me, there’s a teddy bear down the hall that’s in dire need of a stitch job and here I am tending to your dumb ass instead,” Gladstone remarks as a heated joke, but quickly regrets it when Donald just breathes haggardly and stays a little too still under the blanket for Gladstone’s taste. “Anyway, can you sit up? You need to eat something. I made you some oatmeal.”

Donald didn’t reply back for a few quiet moments, and Gladstone almost thought he had gone back to sleep. But before Gladstone could shake his shoulder to check, Donald rolled over from his side and slowly sat up, the bed creaking the entire time as Donald rubbed his eyes to adjust them to the light. “You... you made oatmeal?”

Gladstone swallowed hard at the sight of his older cousin, and didn’t think it was possible to look so pale and so flushed at the same time. His cheeks and forehead were tinted a soft red, but his hands and arms looked clammy and washed out. There were dark bags like bruises under his eyes, a combination of stress and sleep deprivation that had overworked him to the point of getting a fever and Gladstone felt absolutely sick with how tired Don looked.

His eyes were a glazed over blue, unfocused, and hazy as he lazily made eye contact with Gladstone. “I... I didn’t know you knew how to make oatmeal. I didn’t know you knew how to make anything.”

“Please, oatmeal is so easy, it’s practically cheating,” Gladstone rolled his eyes and hoped he could get away with quoting Della without Donald noticing.

It must have been a testament to how rotten Donald was feeling because he didn’t question it a second time and just nodded sluggishly, stifling a yawn as he balanced his head against his knee and closed his eyes.

“...Don’t need it.... I’m ok,” Donald muttered halfheartedly into his knee, like he was desperately trying to convince himself instead, and the worried knot in Gladstone’s stomach tightened into something angry and frustrated.

“Still dizzy? Need any more ibuprofen?” Gladstone asked, trying not to let the worried knot that had tied itself in his gut over the past few hours tighten, but Donald just shook his head softly.

“Don’t lie to your nurse, dude. You’re obviously not ok,” and Gladstone hated this side of Donald. The stupid stubborn side that refused to let anyone in and help him when he needed it. It reminded Gladstone too much of himself, which honestly made him hate it even more. “You can barely sit up and talk to me. Can you suck up your stupid pride for like, two seconds, and just tell me what you need?”

Donald gave Gladstone another one-eyed glare, but there was hardly any fight in his words when he mumbled a, “Really... I’m ok... Just tired.” And Gladstone was seriously starting to get pissed off now.

“If you say you’re ok one more time, I don’t care if I’m your nurse or not, I swear I’m gonna smack you,” Gladstone snapped, and was surprised when Donald let out a low and wheezy chuckle.

“Are you... really trying to pick a fight with a sick guy right now?” Donald mused and Gladstone almost rolled his eyes so hard, he would have hurt himself if he wasn’t a pro at it.

“Oh, so NOW you’re sick. But when you’re hauling irrigation pipe around in 100-degree weather while being so dizzy you can barely walk straight and with a high enough fever to boil an egg, you’re all, ‘oh, don’t worry about me gran,’ and ‘I’m totally fine Della, go have fun.’ And by the time we figure out you’re not, it’s too late and you’re already half-dead in a creek somewhere,“ Gladstone complained, throwing his arms up in the air exhaustedly.

“I was in a field, not a creek.”

“My point is,” Gladstone rubbed his brow in annoyance, and tried to remember that he was indeed trying to take care of Donald, not pick a fight with him. But Gladstone was his cousin first, caretaker later, and it was high time someone spoke up to Donald about his self-sabotaging tendencies. “You always do this. You always push yourself too hard and never let any of us help you when you need it, and I’m getting sick and tired of having to worry all the time about you lying to us about whether you’re ok or not.”

Gladstone crossed his arms over his chest tightly and let his words hang in the air, his eyes glued to Donalds in a fierce sort of way that practically dared Don to try and argue back with him.

But to Gladstone’s surprise, Don just knitted his brows tightly and shifted his gaze. Hugging his legs to his chest and resting his forehead on top of his knees, Donald muttered a soft “...I know... Sorry,” that caught Gladstone completely off guard.

And Gladstone had never seen Donald cry in all his 13 years, and Donald wasn’t crying now, but his eyes got an intense watery that made Gladstone’s heart turn ice cold and sink all the way to his feet.

And maybe it was just that Donald was really sick and tired and wasn’t in the right headspace to put up a fight and defend himself against Gladstone, but still, Gladstone couldn’t help but feel the guilt of his earlier accusation tear through his angry exterior like a knife through butter, and Gladstone melted into something soft and forgiving and far less intimidating and hard-pressed.

He was still frustrated with Donald, but to be fair to his cousin, it wasn’t like Donald tried to be difficult like this on purpose.

Donald’s always tried to do things by himself, ever since they were little kids. He always tried to carry the world on his shoulders and be the singular pillar holding all his family up. When they all moved into Gran’s for the first time, Gran made a comment to Donald that he was the man of the house now, and she would be needing his help to take care of everyone. Gladstone knows Gran only meant it as a way to cheer Donald up, but Don took it all too seriously, and used it as an excuse to do things on his own.

It really wasn’t like Donald was too prideful to ask for help, like Gladstone. It was just that he didn’t know how or when it was ok too. And he’d much rather burn up completely at both ends before he ‘burdened’ his family with what he considered ‘his’ responsibilities.

And it was frustrating cause in the same light, Gladstone didn’t know how to offer help without it seeming like he was looking or picking a fight.

“You don’t have to apologize, it’s just,” Gladstone sighed, and ran a tired hand through his hair before leaning forward and resting his elbows on the edge of Don’s bed, craning his neck so that he could make eye contact with Don from where he was leaning his head against his knee. “I don’t like doing this. I’m not good at doing this.”

“What... taking care of my ‘dumb ass’?” Donald muttered sarcastically.

“Seeing you sick and being useless to help you,” Gladstone stated flatly, staring at Don’s eyes with a heated deadpan as they got wide and electric with surprise.

“Helping you is the easy part dude. Getting you to let me is what I’m not good at. You know it’s ok to take a break, right? I know I complain about doing chores and all, but it’s not like I won’t help pick up the slack if you need it.” And Donald's eyes were large and blue and glued to Gladstones as he continued, trying with every once of his luck to get Donald to understand his wishes. “You don’t always have to do everything yourself all the time. You’re allowed to take a step back and breathe once in a while. It’s not like everything will fall apart without you there to hold it together, ya know. We’re not so fragile that we’ll fall into ruin if you don’t run yourself into an early grave to fix everything yourself. You’re allowed to ask for help.”

Gladstone leaned forward and tapped Donald’s forehead a couple of times and gave him a wry smile. “So I don’t need you to apologize. I just need you to be ok. Like, really be ok. And to not try to take on the world by yourself. You’re not alone, dude. Stop acting like it.”

Donald didn’t retort with anything witty or spitfire back, which Gladstone half expected him to, but he nodded honestly and clearly, and gave Gladstone a wry smile of his own.

“Ok,” was all he said, and that was as good as gold for Gladstone.

“Ok, good!” Gladstone straightened up in his seat and reached over for the bowl of oatmeal on the nightstand. “It should be cool enough now for you to eat. I can’t promise it’s like, the best thing ever, but you need to eat something and I’m pretty sure this won’t make you feel any worse.

Donald took the bowl slowly, and raised an eyebrow of surprise in Gladstone’s general direction.

“I still can’t believe... you made me oatmeal.”

“What, like it’s hard?” Gladstone answered back, leaning forward on his elbows once again and looking at the bowl with a nervousness he didn’t quite know what to do with other than to not show it to Donald at ALL costs. “Just eat it before it gets cold, ya skeptic.”

Donald took an unhurried bite, and chewed for what seemed like a torturous forever to Gladstone, before breaking into a gentle smile.

“It’s good,” Don commented while he chewed, and smiled even bigger when Gladstone physically beamed on the spot.

“What, really? You mean it? I knew it wouldn’t be like, horrible, but it was my first time making it so I wasn’t sure and-,”

“Try it,” Donald interrupted, still smiling as he held out a spoonful towards Gladstone, who, in his defense, took it immediately in his excitement over his first real cooked dish. And didn’t even think twice about possibly getting Donald’s sick germs, (even though he never gets sick anyway.)

As soon as the spoon entered his mouth, Gladstone started coughing and gagging, and almost downed Donald’s entire cup of tea in one swig to try and wash the oatmeal down.

It wasn’t like it was horrible, it definitely was by anyone's standards edible. But it wasn’t good by any means either. Gladstone had definitely put too much cinnamon in it, and the honey was almost nonexistent, making it all together just taste way too bitter and chalky.

“UGH! You liar! You said it tasted good!” Gladstone barked, wiping his mouth with his sleeve and staring daggers into Donald as his cousin smiled innocently back.

“I said it was good, not that it tasted good,” Donald supplied simply, taking his spoon back from where Gladstone had thrown it back onto the bed and taking another bite. “Not that is matters. I’m pretty sure this fever made me lose my sense of taste.”

“What’s the difference then?” Gladstone demanded, and Donald just continued to smile softly into his bowl, his soft blue eyes practically illuminated against the red of his cheeks.

“It’s warm,” Donald replied back plainly, not looking at Gladstone as he took another big bite out of it. “I like it.”

And Gladstone didn’t really understand what Donald meant by that, but a pull in his stomach told him it was a compliment, and he could feel his own cheeks get hot with pride. So he stood up abruptly and said something about getting Donald a glass of water as he walked toward the door, not wanting to show Donald how pleased he was by the praise.

Even though the oatmeal wasn’t a huge success, Donald still liked it, which meant Gladstone won the battle in the end.

Once he had gotten a glass of cold water from the kitchen and a cold wash rag for Donald’s forehead, he made his way back up the stairs towards his cousin’s bedroom.

Gladstone had left Don’s bedroom door open when he left, but before he could announce his arrival, he heard Don’s quiet snoring. Donald had fallen back asleep, with half of his body uncovered by his blanket and with the lights still on. Gladstone shook his head and smiled, but when he walked over to put the glass of water down on Donald’s nightstand, he noticed the bowl of oatmeal completely empty against Donald's side. The spoon was still hanging out of his mouth.

“Dummy,” Gladstone said with more affection then he’d ever let Donald hear while he was awake, and took the spoon out of his mouth with the utmost care. He put the empty bowl and spoon on the tray and recovered Donald with the blanket, making sure to tuck in any stray limbs. He brushed some of Donald's wild bed hair out of the way before placing the cold washcloth on his forehead. Donald sighed quietly at the contact, but otherwise made no show of waking up anytime soon. Gladstone noticed that his fever didn’t feel nearly as hot as it did earlier, and felt a sigh of his own escape his lips in relief.

Gladstone gathered the empty bowl and spoon on the tray, leaving all but a single slice of orange that he stole for himself on Donald's nightstand, and put Della’s desk chair by where he had found it.

“Call me when you need me,” Gladstone said, and didn’t care that Donald was fast asleep and couldn’t hear what he had said when he turned off the light and closed the door.

#tcs #Teenage Cousin Shenanigans #tcs ask #tcs fic #donald duck #Gladstone Gander #fucking WHOOPS #Here i am supposed to be finishing up the first chapter of the abner story and instead #i just went fucking apeshit on this ask without meaning too #oh well i don't regret it but #huh this was not where i imagined the night to go #anyway here ya go #it's probably not the most wholesome but #it's been a sweet story of the two in my head for like 3 years now and i didn't know how to fit it in anywhere #glad is 13 and donald is 14 #i based this on my brother who this has actually happened to #he one time was so sick but just like???#ignored it and kept working #and then night came and the rest of us were like??? where the fucking is mike #and turns out he was out in the pasture surrounded by our cattle cause he passed out while changing pipe #his excuse was that he had shit to do and didn't have time to have a fever or heat stroke and we were all like #BRO THAT'S NOT HOW THAT WORKS YOU NEED TO FUCKING LISTEN TO YOUR BODY HOLY SHIT YOU COULD HAVE DIED #But anyway yeah some soft glad and don fluff for your viewing pleasure

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70swizards · 3 years

Text

marauders in a bakery

jamesiepoo:

would absolutely LOVE to work with dough

would make the biggest mess

tries to act like those italian chefs that spin the pizza dough, EVEN THO HES NOT MAKING PIZZA

refuses to clean after himself. what’s cleaning?

wears “kiss the cook” apron

“LILY YOU MUST RESPECT THE WORDS OF THE WISE APRON! now kiss the cook please”

gives you literal “helping his mum in the kitchen” vibes

listens to muggle music in the bakery and everyone is just so fed up bECAUSE HE HAS TO HAVE IT AT ITS HIGHEST VOLUME

initiates food fights

teaching baby hazza his recipes and lily walking in screaming, “WHAT ARE YOU DOING- DONT CORRUPT THE CHILD” even though she’s looking at him with so much fondness

early morning pancake surprises

breakfast in bed for whoever he’s living with

DANCES AROUND THE KITCHEN WITH THE DRAMATIC ASS MUSIC PLAYING IN THE BACKGROUND

edits recipes to make them so much better

glasses go all wonky and he’s got bits of food all over them after cooking

all the mess it worth it at the end bc the resukt is perfect

seerius blek:

his favourite part is dusting the pastries with powdered sugar

gets lily accidentally involved in food fights and ends up running for his life

“i’m the best cook!” *burns pasta water*

he uses box mixes for cakes and tells remus he made it from scratch, and after remus finds the box in the trash sirius just turns into a dog and goes “you wouldn’t hurt a poor innocent dog would you 🥺”

cries over james’ lava cake

COOKS WITH DOG FOOD

he does it as a prank and everyone else is just like wha t t h e f uc k is wrong with this man while he just eats the dog food happily

often gets banned from the bakery

HAIR IS ALWAYS TIED WITH HIS WAND AND THERE ARE THESE LITTLE STRANS THAT STAY OUT- he looks like a vogue model

leaves the dishes to “soak” so he can clean them later

never touches the dishes ever again

hazel said sirius loves jelly so sirius loves jelly and would force james into making it for him often

“IM NKT THE ONE MAKING A MESS HWRE- *YOURE* MAKINF A MESS OKAY”

“that’s NOT my hair in your food.”

sobs like a child when cutting onions

remmy the ratatouille:

“i’m literally not even a rat”

“I DONT CARE IF YOUT mEtHoD IS MORE FUN JAMES. THIS IS MORE EFFICIENT”

somehow makes the most food eith the least mess

it’s bc of this magical thing he does

it’s called cleaning after himself

“james i love you so much but get the fuck out i cant watch that, please i’m begging you”

*right after calling james out for being messy* *drops the bag of flour followed by fluent cursing*

“it seems to me that you’re the one making the mess rem”

usuallt says he doesn’t wanna help but when he sees someone doing something in a different way he’d go “can we please do it this way? like this- look” *does it himself, smiling*

was once reading before coming to the bakery so his glasses were up in his hair

while he was making cake batter, he looks down and the glasses just fall into the batter and he almsot cried because

“THIS IS THE FOURTH PAIR THIS MONTH IM GONNA FUCKING COMMIT A CRIME”

acts like he hates food fights but as soon as he gets hit- it’s over for everyone. to say the least, make sure you’ve booked a bed at the infirmary

will fucking throw you off the eiffel tower if you even think of tasting raw batter

ALWAYS. WASHING. HIS. HANDS.

never uses specific measurements

“i’ll just eye it”

mostly controls and monitors them

loves to make cinnamon rolls and sirius makes the icing

peter pan:

will knock everyhting down accidentally

pro taster, will immediately know what’s missing

bowl licker

he will eat everyhtunt thrown at him in a food fight BECAUSE DID YOU ACTUALLY THINK YOU HAVE ANYTHING ON ME? HA YOU BITCH IM FONNA DESTROY YOH

when cleaning after himself, he turns the tap onto the highest setting and just splashes himself and everyhtunt arounf him

A TOTAL CLUTZ

cooking is his love language

ABSOLUTELY ADORES TO MAKE LITTLE FINGER FOODS WITH THE TOOTHPICKS ON TOP

LOVES to work with puff pastry

will literally make up recipes from scratch in class and give them to james to try

GETS SUPER MESSY AND HIS APRON ENDS UP BEING SOAKED IN BATTER

he picks at everyhtunt he’s making so he’ll start off with enough to serve 12 and end up with enough to serve 8

who listens to serving proportions anyways

CO M B I N ES A L L R E C IP E S

cooks or bakes when he’s bored

coukd litwrallt start a business

gets his mums cooking notes to show the marauders

refuses to use magic when cooking

lily flower:

washes EVERYTHING

if you’re working with fish, eggs, meat, chicken, or anything of the sort, she should supervise bc she doesn’t want you to make a mess with them.

proceeds to spray clorox everywhere

CAKE DECORATING G O D D E S S

will carry baby hazza in one hand and cook with the other

“leave my child out of this james, HE DOES WHATEVER SEEMS FUN TO HIM AND JT DOES NOT MAKE IT THE NEW RIGHT WAY”

owns a bakery with a little library on the side

peter is the co-owner

she never lets james cook dinner bc she does not appreciate the mess he leaves behind

but always let’s him cook bc she knows he loves it

helps james clean the kitchen but ends up becoming a make-out session with her sitting on the countertop and james standing in front of her

hazel thought of orange juice so lily loves orange juice

makes harrys birthday cakes with james and lets baby hazza help in the tiniest ways

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balkanradfem · 4 years

Text

Survival recipes!

Here's what you can do if you have little other than just flour, salt, sugar, oil and cocoa powder, and maybe some beans. Beans are important because after you cook them for an hour, you will be left with bean water, which is called "aquafaba" and is used in recipes as egg replacement.

Flour pudding:

you need: water, few spoons of flour, salt, sugar, cocoa powder and a stove.

More than half of water is put to boil (i use maybe half a litre altogether?) and some is put on the side in a bowl, left cold. Put few spoons of sugar, pinch of salt, and half a spoon of cocoa powder (or how much you like!) in the cold water, then add in flour slowly, while mixing it like you would mix a pancake mix. You want a pancake mixture consistency as well, not too dense because once you mix it in the hot water, it's going to get crazy dense! When you don't have any more lumps of flour in your mixture, wait until water is boiling and mix in your pudding mix. Stir and cook it for few minutes at most, be careful because it sticks to the bottom! If you have any fancy sweet spices like cinnamon and vanilla you can add them but I was okay without. Once this feels like pudding, it's done! Okay so it doesn't taste exacty like store-bought pudding, and its better if you add ton of sugar, but I have to say, this is insanely sating. This eradicates hunger. I do not get hungry right after eating this. I love it.

Tortilla pancakes

You need: flour, salt, oil, pancake pan.

Put flour in a bowl, add salt as much as you would for a bread (lets say 400g flour, one teaspoon salt? i think. you can add more, they never get too salty.) Add up from 2 tablespoons of oil, I wouldn't go lower than 2, but you can go higher, it will actually taste better with more oil! But if you don't want to spend much oil or make this too unhealthy, 2 tablespons will do. Add water and mix until you get a soft dough, it works with a tougher dough as well, but they're really soft and pleasant to eat if your dough is soft. Put a pancake pan to heat on the fire, but do not add oil to it. This is done without oiling or greasing the pan at all. Take a handful of dough and spread it on the counter, (sprinkle flour on the counter first so it doesn't stick, and you can use a clean bottle or something to spread it if you don't have tools). It's okay if your dough isn't perfectly thin, unless you're using this as a wrap. Move the thin dough to the heated pan, and it's enough to let it cook for a minute for each side. (like pancakes)

This is actually one thing I found incredibly tasty, and great replacement for bread! When I'm too tired to make bread, I can still make tortillas because it takes 5 minutes once you figure it out. You can also just sprinkle some oil and salt on top and eat it just like that.

Beans (or chickpeas or similar legume works)

Best way to stay good on protein levels is to cook a lot of beans, store them in tupperware in your fridge, and make different thing out of them every day. They last for a week in fridge. You can keep aquafaba frozen for a month, in fridge it will last a week in a closed container. This will be used for cake dough, pancakes, and little pasta things that go into soup, you could also make pasta with it, but I haven't tried! If you own an electric whisk you can beat it into a cream, mix with sugar, cocoa powder or any sweetener and have a great cake topping.

Now if you need ideas for how to eat beans so they still taste good after few days, you can try these:

Salad: mix with oil, salt, vinegar and sweet peppers powder (optional), add onions and garlic if possible. (you can add foraged greens like dandelion greens in it.)

Baked beans: put them in a hot pan with oil, salt, you're done in 10 minutes, extra great if you also do it together with potatoes.

Bean patties: mash your beans and add salt, little bit of flour and bread crumbs, garlic or onion (optional), if you have any herbs and spices like basil, paprika, rosemary, you can add those in but they will be great with salt alone if not. Make little patties with your fingers and you can roll them in bread crumbs, then cook in pan on oil until they're dark and crispy. I don't think anyone can get tired of eating those, they're delicious. Also good with rice.

Aquafaba pancakes

This is honestly just a pancake recipe and aquafaba is a replacement for eggs. The ingredients are flour, salt, sugar, water (you can use milk of course, if you have any), and aquafaba, but be careful to not put more aquafaba than water! They will stick to the pan sooo much if you do! The best mix is achieved by letting the pancake mixture rest in fridge for a bit, then it wont be so sticky and everything will mix better. But who has time for that. You make your pancake mix and enjoy making a huge mess over your stove. If you want, you can do this without aquafaba, pancakes taste extremely similar with only flour, water, sugar and salt, but with aquafaba you get a little extra protein, much nicer consistency, and that awesome brown spots pancakes have. No-aquafaba pancakes look very light yellow and pale-ish, and are slightly less sating.

Aquafaba cake dough

You need: flour, sugar (as much as you want), salt (half teaspoon), baking powder, oil or cooking margerine (or both) aquafaba, cocoa powder, any extra spice is great but optional (like cinnamon, vanilla, lemon juice)

I use equal amount of water and aquafaba for this, to get extremely fluffy and nicely risen dough. you could use less, or even use just aquafaba but if you do that, it will fall apart so much, it will get a bit harder to eat (very soft tho)! For oil and margerine, it works with any amount, it's just less sating if you add few tablespoons, and much more sating if you add more. I go with 150g of margerine usually.

Mix aquafaba, water (or milk if you got it), sugar, salt, spices if you got any, melted margerine or oil, and cocoa all together, then you can add baking powder and flour, and mix in more flour until you get nice creamy consistency, it doesn't have to get super dense, but you want it denser than your pancake mix. I usually mix it by hand whisk but electrical works too. Put it into oven at 150°C for about half hour, then check if it's all risen and dry. Now here's a trick, if you make a bit of coffee and sprinkle it on top of dough when it's done, it will taste so much better. If you have any citrus fruit like orange, spraying the dough with orange juice works amazing too! If you're super fancy and can add melted chocolate on top you got yourself a chocolate cake. Both coffee and orange juice go well with chocolate, but don't do both on one dough. You can also eat it without anything as it's still sweet and fluffy.

Now these are not extra amazing tasting things, but resources to use in times of crisis, depression, poverty, exhaustion. Each of them is fast to make and takes minimal resources and will keep you from being hungry. Hope you can use these for fun though :)

#vegan recipes #poverty recipes #poverty food #cooking #simple recipes #crisis food #depression food

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nitannichionne · 4 years

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Poetry In Motion (Henry Cavill Fanfic) Part 4: And So It Begins

Part 4

HENRY POV

It’s the middle of the fucking night.

It’s the middle of the fucking night, and I want her. Now.

I awakened to the scent of her in front of me. Everything smells like honey, even after sex. I licked my lips. Down, boy, I told myself, you were supposed to break her in slowly.

I moved slightly, feeling the light sting of the back scratches she left me not long ago. My cock throbbed at the memory of how she clung to me, her head fallen back, mouth open and panting as I felt her pussy clench around me, drawing cries from her with every thrust earlier tonight. Dear God…

That’s it.

I curled closer to her. Yes, I exhaled heavily, she was damned warm right now. I reached in front of her down to the apex of her legs to lightly fondle her. I growled in her ear softly, gently grinding against her. She made a little noise, starting to wake up, so I pushed my finger between her legs. She gasped softly.

“Uhh…”

I licked her neck and lightly nipped her ear. “Remember, I said I wasn’t—” I pushed my finger inside her, adding a second one. “done with you?” I cupped her breast and thumbed her nipple. It hardened instantly. “Good, I think you do.” Her soft moans snaked down my spine and into my loins, making me grind harder against her. She was not dressed, thankfully so I bent her forward slightly, causing my fingers to come out of her, but now I could rub the hood of her sex, play with her clit if I wanted. I moved my cock up and down her slit, teasing her and she instinctively arched. Magnificent. I swelled almost painfully, and sank into her slowly, inch by inch, enjoying every little moan and whimper as I spread and stretched her again. “That’s it…oh, that’s it darling, you can take all of me, you did before.” I murmured. I pulled out and shoved deep into her. My head fell back, and l licked my lips, still tasting her from before. I gathered her close and kept her in a vice-like embrace, having at her the way I wanted.

But then, she moved. How did she—

Her hips ground against mine, her sex tightening around me. I cried out, surprised that she did that to me. I pounded her, trying to tame her, but she had a rhythm of her own. Her hips shook and rotated as she grabbed my thigh, juices dripping down our legs as we moved together. She whimpered my name over and over, her body pulsing and pulling on my cock, making me realize she was doing what came natural to her. I was making her feel this, do this, and I couldn’t stop her because…because it felt so damn good. I realized she was coming repeatedly, one right after the other on almost every thrust. “Fuck!” My mind was going blank.

I bit her neck as I shot into her, growling and pumping in a primitively animalistic hold males do to their mates. She couldn’t move, she could only take it. We were gasping and moaning.

“Henry!” she whimpered, trembling. “Oh, Henry, oh, God!”

Once again, her tone drove me wild. I could hear her surrender, her desire, all of it. I rolled her to her stomach, watching her pant, and pulled her up by her hips so that she was on her knees. I grabbed her shoulder and drove my cock into her slowly and she hissed my name. I could feel her squeeze as I buried myself in her to the hilt.

“Uhhnnn….!” She cried.

“Mmmh,” I closed my eyes, savoring the feel of her around me, surrendering yet holding on and not letting go. I set my hand on her hip and drove in and out of her, rocking her body in time with mine, my rhythm. The sounds of our moving bodies colliding filled the room in time with our moans and cries of pure primal pleasure. As I fucked her hard and deep, she couldn’t keep that sweet mesmerizing rhythm of hers. She couldn’t move like that. She’d lost control, which was what I wanted. I am so not done with you, I thought as she cried my name over and over. She whimpered, her hips starting to drop, and I spanked her, making her arch against me to take all I was giving her—every inch and very soon every drop. All I kept thinking, wanting to say, was: You’re going to be mine…unequivocally, inarguably and irreversibly…mine. As if to answer my thoughts she clenched hard around me, screaming.

When I came, all I kept thinking was how I claimed her as mine and soon, soon she would know what that meant. I have had others, but I had never been struck with such feelings of possessiveness. I leaned forward, still rocking and caressing her body, greedily not wanting it to end as she gasped and gave little kitten cries that made me shower her with kisses from behind as my thrusts became slow and deep. “You’re mine, darling.” I breathed. “You. Are. Mine.”

She collapsed, and somewhat sated, I allowed it. I pulled out of her as she caught her breath. She was still trembling. I pulled her to me on her side, spooning her and slid my member inside again. She calmed considerably and I realized she was still throbbing, her pounded sex still quivering in aftermath. What a beauty, I thought as she continued to mewl softly. “Sleep now.” I showered slow wet kisses on her shoulder, her cheek, her temple. “Sleep.”

She fell asleep curled in my embrace, exhausted. I had come three times tonight, and she…she’s multi-orgasmic and drained at the moment. I smiled down at her.

In the morning, we began.

When she awakened I already had eggs with mozzarella on croissant waiting. She clearly didn’t want to move.

“Reyna?” I called softly, coming from the kitchen. “Sweetheart?” I got back in bed. “Usually we go to the kitchen for breakfast, pet,” I whispered.

“I-I’m not hungry,” she whispered from beneath the sheets.

I leaned over, parting the covers, and kissed her temple. “Yes you are. Your stomach is growling.” I looked at her. “Alright, then.” I got up and got one of my t-shirts, which was about a 2X with all the weightlifting I’d been doing. I sat her up, and pulled it over her head, then pulled her arms through the sleeves. She giggled at me shaking her head and I laughed at her. I swept her up in my arms and took her to the kitchen, setting her on one of the stools. I served her breakfast. “Eat.”

“Wow,” she seemed impressed. “thank you.”

I served her coffee with a tablespoon of cream and a cinnamon stick. She frowned. “This is better for you.”

“I’d rather have hazelnut.”

“Flavoring?” I asked. “That’s terrible stuff, sweetheart, more calories and less nutritious. How about we give this a try?” I stepped behind her and covered her hand as we stirred her coffee together. “It’s melting, changing. It’ll be good I promise.” I kissed her temple and sat next to her at the island, stirring my own. I watched her. She was quiet. She was internalizing all that happened. “Anyone you need to call?”

“What?”

“You stayed here overnight, sweetheart,” I said with a small smile. “Someone is bound to be worried.”

“Oh, yes—”

I took her phone off the kitchen charging station and handed it to her.

“Oh!”

“Kinda left it on the floor in the living room,” I said with a smile. “but you see where the charging station is now.”

She nodded her thanks and began texting.

“Tell them you won’t be home till tomorrow.”

“What?”

I saw that coming. “I think—” I said, feeding her a grape. “you need to rest before you return.”

She stared at me.

“Seriously, I don’t think things will fall apart if you’re gone weekends.” I reasoned. “Please. I’ll try not to wear you out.”

“Wear me out?” She scoffed and laughed, shaking her head as she resumed texting.

I leaned over and whispered, “Are you challenging me?”

“No.” she smiled shyly still texting and not looking me in the eyes.

I saw her hardened nipples through my t-shirt. I caressed the shell of her ear with my lips. “Just checking.” I breathed in her ear. “Come on, stay with me. Do you have anything important to do this weekend?”

“Nothing really important—”

“It’s settled,” I said softly.

“Don’t you have plans?”

“My plans are about taking care of you,” I kissed her hair, rising to load the dishwasher. “Eat your breakfast, sweetheart, it’s getting cold.” I watched her put her phone on the table. She picked up her breakfast croissant sandwich. She took a big bite. “Slow down, sweetheart, we’re not in a rush. You’ll get indigestion.” She chewed slower, sheepishly smiling as she did. I laughed softly. “Good.”

#henrycavill #henry cavill fanfiction #henry cavill 50 Shades

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purplesurveys · 4 years

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1010

survey from diggitydoo

Have you ever felt a baby kick? Yes, when my mom was pregnant with my brother. What color pants/shorts are you wearing? I’m only wearing a duster gown; no shorts underneath. I just got it last night, actually - my mom wanted to donate clothes to victims of a recent fire incident in Manila and so she asked my sister and I to sort through our closets for clothes we were willing to give away. My sister ended up giving away a comfy-looking duster gown that she never even wore and even smelled brand new to boot. It ended up in my hands, ha. But apart from that we gave away a lot of stuff that aren’t old uniforms or costumes (which is what most people tend to ‘donate’, ugh), so we just hope they end up with people who really need them. When is the last time you did something truly fun, and what was it? Last night I went on our org’s Discord server and we played Jackbox games for around an hour or so. It was my first time to socialize again after around two months and I really, really needed that moment. I even met the org’s newest roster of applicants for this semester, which was neat. :) What was the scariest moment of your life? Men terrorizing me or near-car crashes I’ve had.

Have you ever heard of Leonard Cohen? The name is familiar, but that’s the most I know.

Pancakes or flapjacks? I guess pancakes, since I don’t even know what flapjacks are. What kind of computer are you on? It’s a laptop. Do you eat Chinese food? If so, what's your favorite dish? For sure. Pork buns or minced pork with eggplant. With century egg on the side, yum. What are you usually doing at midnight? Either passed out or desperately trying to sleep because I don’t want to lose any more hours of sleep and risk being cranky for the whole of the next day. Have you ever developed feelings for a friend, but you were already with someone? No. The worst thing that’s happened was being someone’s ball date (and unbeknownst to me, they apparently had feelings for me at the time) while I was already with someone. If so, how did it turn out? He figured it out by himself, which I still feel bad about. But the timing was super off and I just couldn’t find a moment to sit him down and set the record straight...ah well. It was just super complicated at the time. Give me your brief definition of love. My favorite love-related quote is “Love never says ‘I have done enough’” and for the longest time, that has been my guiding principle when it comes to it. Definitely a tad bit cheesy, but telling myself that over and over makes it easier to continue loving the people I care for and be patient with them when they’re being asses. Gab included, then and now. What is the most beautiful part of the human body, male or female? It differs for everyone but I’m a thigh girl through and through. What kind of shoes do you wear? Uh...various ones? I have sneakers, flats, heels, flip-flops, probably a couple more kinds that I can’t place at the moment. What is the worst thing you've ever done when you were really angry? Resorting to physical violence. I was a kid constantly exposed to violence in my old home, and at the time I genuinely thought that’s how most things were settled or pacified. I still feel like shit about it to this day, and my backstory isn’t an excuse at all; but the past is the past and I’ve been trying to make up for it by being a much more gentle angry person in the last few years. Are there any pills you take on a daily basis? If so, what? Nope. Do you like the smell of coconuts? For some reason I can’t stand anything coconut (which is a damn shame considering I’m Filipino) but I love dishes with heaps of coconut milk in them, like curry. That’s the one coconut-related thing I enjoy, but otherwise I’ve never learned to appreciate the taste and smell of buko juice, coconut shavings, coconut pies, and everything else coconut. What is the heaviest you think you can lift? From what my old PE class showed me, around 70 to 80 lbs. Do you take Tums? Idk what that is so I guess I don’t. Have you ever walked on a pier at the beach? I’m not sure if I’ve been to a pier before. I bet it feels wonderful and freeing and I’d love to visit one; but I also can’t keep myself from associating piers with the recurring image of Jennifer Connelly’s character standing on one from Requiem for a Dream. How about under one? No. At what age do you first remember feeling butterflies in your stomach around someone? Not sure if it was 11 or 12, but it was definitely one of those years. Do you feel that way around anyone now? Yeah, if they allowed me to see them. But I’m shut out now so I haven’t had that sensation in a while.

Do you ever talk to yourself or think deep thoughts while on the toilet? No. Do you ever sing to yourself? Sure. I’m sure most people do every once in a while. What is a sound that relaxes you? Ocean waves have never failed. How hard has it been to reach your main goal in life? ‘Main goal’ sounds so overwhelming; I make it a point to avoid one overarching goal and instead make little goals and plans here and there depending on where I am in life. Do you remember the song about hoes in different area codes? Never heard of it. What is your main heritage? Filipino. What kind of pickles do you prefer, if you like pickles? I hate pickles. What kind of cheese do you prefer, if you like cheese? Mozzarella and feta are my faves, but I love cheese and am willing to be adventurous when it comes to it. If you could have a sea creature as a pet, what would you want? Eh, they can stay in the sea where they can actually survive. I don’t exactly have the best track record when it comes to keeping fish as pets. How about a farm animal? Probably pig. So, do you have hoes in different area codes? No, and ew. What is the most annoying song you can think of that came out recently? Haven’t been exposed to a lot of new music lately and the songs I do get to hear on the radio whenever I drive are actually pretty good. This totally doesn’t answer your question but my favorites so far have been Birthday by Disclosure, Kehlani, and Syd; and Plain by Benee, Lily Allen, and Flo Milli. What is a song that you hate to admit you like? Any Kanye song I like. What inspires you to get off your bum and do something productive? Not wanting to go into another downward spiral. Do you ever use Urban Dictionary? Extremely rarely. I only do when there’s a new slang I’m completely unfamiliar with. Do you find the definitions on there to be generally funny or stupid? Stupid for the most part. I find them too immature or vulgar, but that’s one of the points of the website so I guess I’m just not in their target audience lol. What comes to your mind when you hear the word 'transformation'? Uh, the Transformer robots.

What was something you regularly played with as a child? My cousins’ toy soldiers.

Have you ever given in to peer pressure? Eh, a few times. If so, what did you do? I’ve been pulled to drinking sessions here and there when I really shouldn’t be drinking because I had an important test tomorrow or something else was happening the next day that was just as significant. What part of your body have you had the most problems with in your life? Teeth, I’m pretty sure. I’ve had braces, needed a tooth extracted, gotten a cavity, and gone through a severe toothache.

Do a lot of people check you out when you're in public? Idk I never look around because being aware of it would just freak me out and make me feel like I’m naked. What is a good name for a turtle? Would depend on their personality. And this applies to all kinds of pets, at least for me. I don’t decide on their names until I have a good grasp of their attitude. Can you imitate any accents well? If so, which one(s)? Stereotypical Filipino mom and valley girl. Do you like having your ear nibbled on? Sure. What makes a good kisser a good kisser? I’ve only kissed one person so I’m not the best judge for this; but I always like it when my lower lip is tugged or grazed on. How many times a year do you have a family thing? This is a little vague for me. Do you mean get-togethers? Giant-ass reunions? Movie nights? Game nights? What are the best things to put in a smoothie? I only like one kind of smoothie and it’s sold by a local joint – and I think I’ve already shared this before but that smoothie of theirs that I like has “apple, banana, cinnamon, oats, coco sugar, chia seeds, greens, and soy milk,” according to their menu. So I guess those are the best ingredients for me, ha. Do you ever eat with your eyes closed and just focus on the taste? When I find something extremely delicious, yeah. What do you dislike most about where you live right now? For the most part I can’t wait to get out of suburban residential villages. I’d love to finally experience living in a condo in a super busy and active city. Has anyone ever given you a rose/roses? Yes.

Are you watching your weight? Not really. I’m trying to gain pounds though, if anything. I haven’t eaten much in the last two months. Have you ever become really good friends with someone you found online? I trust y’all with my life, so that’s one. Apart from Tumblr, the best friends I made were probably the people in the AJ/Punk fandom, back when I had a stan account on Twitter. I don’t remember most of their names now and we fizzled out pretty quickly when both parts of the ship left WWE, but I look back on that period with fondness. Those people made high school a lot easier for me. What makes your best friend your best friend? She doesn’t care whether I’m on top of the world with happiness or completely self-destructive and crying my eyes out; she has always been present. Do you have a drunk uncle? *rolls eyes* We don’t wanna open up that can of worms... Do you hear weird noises in your house at night? Nope. What is something you do that is generally more like something the opposite sex does? Based on personal experience and not to come off as sexist, but it’s liking wrestling. I have never met a girl in real life who has even the most remote interest in pro wrestling or can tell me who Hulk Hogan is. And the ones I’ve had discussions with - from shallow/casual to in-depth - have all been guys. Seeing girls who are into wrestling is like finding a rare Pokemon, at least in real life. What is the girliest thing you do, if you're a girl? Idk. What is the coolest tattoo you've ever seen? Probably the spork tattoo of Josh, a crew member from Good Mythical Morning. It’s just a line tattoo. Of a spork. On his arm. But he managed to make it so goddamn fascinating lmao; and apparently, as I learned just now, it has a pretty touching backstory to it too, which makes it a million times cooler. Have you ever created anything artistic that you're proud of? If so, what? I’ve never finished any of the crafts I bought. Never finished a coloring book page much less an entire coloring book, a painting, a gem painting...it’s something I’ll have to bring my butt to do one of these days. I can’t imagine how fulfilling it would feel. Do you only eat the middle of the oreo, if you eat oreos? I eat the whole thing but I honestly find Oreos too sweet and I’ve always much rather preferred Oreo-flavored stuff instead of the actual cookies.

Do you know anyone with a huge ego? My mom. If so, is there anything else about them you actually like? She’s fed me for 22 years and gave me an education, I guess. Though it’s something I appreciate more so than like. Have you ever used a racial slur, even jokingly? Probably as a dumb kid, when historical context wasn’t a thing to me yet. I still wince thinking about it, but I suppose what matters is being better and more responsible moving forward. Do you have any friends who are more like siblings to you? Angela and to some extent Andi.

If so, what about them do you like most? They are both understanding when it comes to me - almost to a fault. What do you like on your hotdogs, if you eat hotdogs? When you say ‘hotdogs’ here, it refers to the sausages itself. The sandwich kind of hotdog isn’t super popular here. What is everyone else in your house doing right now? My siblings are still resting in their rooms; my dad is preparing for work, I think. What is the most money you've ever had at one time? Something like P10,000 or P15,000 when my mom needed me to pay for something in cash. How long do you think it would take you to run a mile? Idk, maybe 10 minutes. I won’t be fast, that’s for sure. Look down. What do you see? My legs and the pillow I’m sitting on. What is a subject that makes you uncomfortable? Right now, probably my failed relationship. I haven’t gotten to the sharing stage yet and remotely thinking about it gets my voice all shaky. What is a subject you can talk on and on about and not get sick of it? Paramore. What kind of mood were you in most of today? It’s only 7:52 AM. My only mood so far is just woke up. Has anyone ever walked in on you naked? Yeah. Because people in this damn house never knock. Tell me an inside joke you have with someone. The word ‘ariba.’ What is the worst thing someone could do to you emotionally? Break my trust. So simple but it packs a punch. What is the worst thing you've ever done to someone emotionally? Idk if I’ve ever been that aggressive. When I want to do something destructive towards someone I always end up asking what it would feel like if the action was done to me, and it’s always been enough to sway me away from doing the thing. How do you feel now about the first person you ever dated? Sad. How about the last person (your last ex)? Same person. What is the best invention ever invented? Air conditioners.

What is something that needs to be invented? Portable air conditioners. What always makes you burp? My burps come randomly. What are you doing tomorrow? It’s my last weekend before my new job, soooooooo...I’ll be bumming around for my last two days of freedom.

#survey #surveys

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