but now he's a glutton

Valentine’s Day Blurb - Taron Egerton

(credits to @ ohmyegerton for the gif)

“Fuck,” you whispered, blowing a stray of hair out of your face. You had been at this for the last hour, but for some reason you hadn’t made any progress at all. No, not one bit. Why was cooking so difficult? It was basically just maths; adding ingredients together while also being aware of the time. Simple maths. You repeated to yourself, knowing damn well it didn’t help. Who were you kidding? You had never been the best at maths. No, it wasn’t your forte.

Stains of wet flour marked the beige counter as you looked around at the mess you had created. And to think you would have to clean it up all. You sighed again, exasperated as you stole a quick glance at the brownish and gooey substance next to you. Wasn’t it supposed to be more cream than brown? Also more liquid? That didn’t look liquid at all. You groaned, tilting your head back and gave the mix the same fate its previous friend had received. You took the cold bowl and dumped its content in the sink, watching the lumps of flour burst and be washed away.

You heard the distant echo of footsteps and you looked at the green numbers displayed on the oven. 07:48.

“Fuck,” you muttered under your breath. Taron was already up and all you had achieved in doing was make a mess out of the kitchen and waste food. You were nowhere near what you had planned. 

Taron always cooked for you and you had thought it a great idea to surprise him by making him breakfast on Valentine’s day. Turns out your daydreams were nowhere near reality.

“Hey, darling.” You jumped at the sudden contact of his palm on the small of your back, but relaxed instantly when your brain registered that it was your husband. He had gotten dressed and put on a pair of joggers and a white shirt.

“Hey, love.” He rested his lips again your forehead before scanning the kitchen.

“Mmm… I see you’ve redecorated the house. I have to say, I would’ve preferred for you to consult me beforehand.” A small smile tugged at his lips as you noticed the sparkles in his eyes. You stared back, a blank expression on your face. Your idiot of a husband thought he was being funny.

“Quit it, Mr. Egerton.” You rolled your eyes at him. Okay, you had thought his joke was pretty funny, but no way you were encouraging him.

“Here, let me help.” He chuckled and pecked your lips as he took hold of the whisk and the bowl you had so ‘gently’ emptied earlier. He rinsed them and placed himself near the eggs and the flour. You extended an arm and leaned on the counter next to him. “Come here.”

You looked at him as he did it so effortlessly. And he looked handsome doing it. He was sifting together the dry ingredients, while explaining to you what he was doing and why he was doing it. But your attention was directed to his lips, and his neck, and the mole on his neck, and now his green eyes.

This would be your third Valentine’s Day as a married couple. The both of you hadn’t planned anything special for the day. It was probably going to be one of those lazy days where you would just cuddle in the comfort of your home. And if you were completely honest, you quite liked the idea of having your husband to yourself for a day.

“Done.” He smiled at you as he handed over the bowl. He made his way to the other side of the kitchen, fetching, plates, a spatula and utensils and came back over to where you stood. A circle of blue flames came to life as Taron gave the oven control a flick of his wrist. Before he could do anything else you stole the spatula from his hands.

“That I can do.” You sighed happily, being content with finally being able to help.

“Okay, I’ll go wake Noah up.” His hand wandered around your back and he stole a quick kiss from you. His figure disappeared as he made his way to your son’s bedroom.

You were putting on the table, when you heard a tread of small footsteps and gibberish behind you. You smiled as you felt a pair of tiny arms wrap around your bare leg. You looked down to see your son Noah, smiling back at you, his little round cheeks making it impossible for you not to melt. 

“Hey little man!” You took him in your arms, smiling wide as he laughed, his two front teeth poking out from hiding behind his lips. “Did you sleep well?” Your voice came out in a high-pitched tone. “Did you sleep well?” You repeated, pecking your child’s cheek as his left hand found its way to his mouth. 

Taron watched the both of you from where he stood, leaning on the wall. He gave himself a slight push and came to join you.

“Now, who’s hungry?” He joined in the conversation, “Because I know this glutton is!” He pointed at himself before sitting next to you, Noah on his left side. Noah rose both of his hands in the air as he stared back at his dad, happily. You smiled, taking a bite of the strawberry you had stole from the bowl of fruits in the middle of the table.

“Happy Valentine’s Day, love.” He kissed your temple softly, before serving the three of you.

trusting-my-insanity  asked:

*comes late with popcorn* what'd I miss?

SF!Sans sliiiiiiddes over, apparently a glutton for food now because he seems to keep getting drawn to it.  “JUST SOME DISGUSTING DISPLAYS OF BAD TASTE!  HUMANS SEEM TO BE GOING FOR THE MUTTS, AND THERE’S BEEN A LOT OF LINES USED THAT JUST DON’T MAKE ANY SENSE!”  Blackberry huffs, though his eyelights are drawn to the popcorn.  “HUMAN!  I REQUEST THAT YOU SHARE YOUR POPPED CORN WITH ME THIS INSTANT!”


Blackberry just scowls, crossing his arms.

magicaladept  asked:

"Magic does that. It wastes you awake. Once it grips you by the ear, the world gets quieter and quieter until you can hardly hear it at all."

“you need to take a hit of this right. now.”

alright, so he’s a glutton for doe-eyed boys looking for validation, no one is saying otherwise. there’s a reason this honey-tongued god has himself all wrapped up in a silk robe like a gift waiting to be torn open by such starving little artists.

it’s just TOO delicious of an opportunity to pass up!

but sometimes he sees the fat for what it is: something to be cut down, cut off, thrown in the lard bucket to fry another day.

“i get it, i do. you’re not the only virgin touched for the very first time. the gloves, the claws, the paws? it DIFFERS,” he passes the pipe, his voice rising like the sweet-musky smoke as it sinks low in his lungs.

“and you think magic is something SPECIAL? something never seen and a miracle and oh god, it’s real, it’s real! please. magic has been rocking your sad little world since the day your daddy’s swimmers did an olympic race to take a bite of your mother’s dropping eggs. if you can’t see the magic in the mundane you’re never going to be satisfied even when it turns your water into wine. smoke up, bitch.”

sticky notes

summary:  “I-I’ve been finding these sticky notes all day and I don’t know who they’re from!” He holds his hands up in defense. “I m-mean, they’re really nice and all but I don’t know anything–”
Alya took a quick look at her best friend before grabbing her wrist and dragging her away. “I’m not done with you, Agreste!”

word count: 1.2k 

author’s note:  so!! this is a thing that i’m starting!! it’s a drabble series called ‘can i put on my clothes first?’ following the prompts for ladrien june. i have been pumped since adrienette april ended so. i tried to do something different and i really liked it. i’ve got lots of plans for this universe and its going to be very fun. thanks to the wonderful @mellymiraculous on tumblr & ao3 for looking this over!! <3 hope you all enjoy!!

ao3 link | series link | next →

The first one he finds is yellow.

A pale, creamy, cake-colored yellow sticky note.

Well, technically he didn’t find it. Nino’s rummaging through his bag when he plucks it out.

Nino hums, a satisfied smirk smoothing over his features. “‘Your hair shines like the sun’,” he snorts. “Which one of your crazed fangirls wrote you this?”

Adrien turns, grasping for the adhesive piece of paper. “Wh-what are you talking about!?” It couldn’t be, he thinks. How could the poem from last year be in my backpack?

Nino only laughs at Adrien’s deepening blush as he deciphers the message. “Of course, you have millions of admirers on Valentine’s Day. Didn’t this happen last year too?”

He doesn’t say anything, but the bell rings anyway while he’s following the patterns of the swirly handwriting. It’s almost identical to the original.

Your eyes are gorgeous green,’ the next one reads, wedged between his fencing bag and the back of his locker. It sticks out like a fluorescent green ruffled feather. Adrien stares at it in awe for a few minutes before fishing the yellow one out of his pocket.

They really were the exact lines from the poem he memorized ages ago.

“Do you really think those could have come from Lady–”

“Plagg, shh!” Adrien scolds his kwami. “Shhh, someone could come out any minute!”

“Back to the point,” Plagg shrugs, “Even if it didn’t come from Ladybug, it’s definitely from the poem last year.”

“Well, I knew that,” he murmurs. He sticks the green one on top of the yellow and secures them back in his pocket.

Keep reading