So with posting the rooms and whatnot, I finally noticed the kitchen next to the lounge. And I really wish showed a bit more how meals go in the manga but-
- Everyone labels their food. There’s often fights about missing food
- Mineta guards all his food by putting balls on them. Which gets really annoying because the others can’t get them off their own stuff if they happen to touch
- Someone keeps eating Bakugou’s cereal and he throws a fit every time. It’s become a running joke for the class to make sure he never finds out who it is (it’s Kaminari)
- Yaoyorozu and Todoroki tried making dinner together once, but they had no clue what they were doing and caught several things on fire. Todoroki panicked and froze half the kitchen
- While Sato normally bakes in his room, he sometimes bakes something in the kitchen for everyone to share
- Ashido once took half of the cake without anyone noticing until it was too late
- Bakugou is banned from the kitchen when someone else is cooking because he gets frustrated if they’re doing something wrong and tries to take over
- Midoriya, Uraraka, Tokoyami, Kirishima, and Jirou are the people that are for some reason in the kitchen at 3 AM for a snack
- Iida hates the kitchen because it’s always so unorganized and “For the love of god, CLEAN UP AFTER YOU MAKE SOMETHING!”
- Uraraka tried making pasta once at 4 AM, but she spilled all the noodles on the ground
-Todoroki walked into the kitchen and was very confused because she was just laying on the floor with a defeated look on her face, surrounded by noodles
- Shoji is the best for breakfast foods. Sure it’s just simple things like eggs and toast, but he does it so well
- They made popcorn for a movie night, but not the bagged kind. The dump kernels into a machine let the popcorn pop out into a bowl kind
- Problem is: Kirishima poured in WAY to many kernels so the class had to fill all the bowls they had with popcorn. And still a good portion ended up on the floor
- Tsuyu is one of the few besides Bakugou who can cook well. But since she has younger siblings, her cooking is more geared towards kids (Micky Mouse pancakes, sandwiches cut into triangles, ect.)
- since they’re free to eat whenever on weekends, it’s common for friend groups to meet up at the same time to eat, everyone has some sort of unofficial schedule
- Somehow Tsuyu and Bakugou ended up in a cooking compitetion (she really didn’t want to be, but everyone was so pumped for it). Sero filmed the whole thing while Ashido and Kirishima played the announcers, holding up cooking utensils as mics
- “Bakugou is getting fired up!!! Is the pressure getting to him?!” “But man, look at Tsu go! She’s hardly breaking a sweat!”
- They kept going around from student to student, asking who they were rooting for “So who’s your pick to be the NEXT Class 1-A chef champion?!”
- Tsu wins and Bakugou doesn’t leave his room for the entire weekend
4.0 out of 5 stars My failure’s complete 4.0 out of 5 stars Finally got them to sleep, eh? Now try and get them to eat ! I was trying to figure out how Adam Mansbach was going to top his hilarious “Go the F**** to Sleep” picture book (sorta a parody of Goodnight Moon), and here it is.I was a stepdad to three kids for about 5 years, and getting them to sleep paled in comparison to getting them to eat right. The tween girl wanted to eat nothing but mashed potatoes, while the smallest boy was on a diet (not paleo!) of Ramen and cereal. The older boy just into his teens ate anything and everything, but keeping him fed was like feeding a coal fired boiler.So yeah, even tho I am no longer troubled by this, I found this book hilarious.Every parent with a “problem eater” (which is pretty much any parent) should read this book and thus realize you’re not alone and it could be worse.Owen Brozman here takes over the illustrators mantle, and does an excellent job.I await with much trepidation the next book. Dating? Go to Amazon5.0 out of 5 stars Instant Classic! I feel like this guy lives with me. I have two kids. One won’t sleep, one won’t eat. This is another instant classic in our house. Go to Amazon5.0 out of 5 stars Very funny Oh my goodness. Best. Book. Ever. I got the other one as well, and they are hilariously true. These would be a great gift for any new/old parents. 😂 Go to Amazon5.0 out of 5 stars A fun book that any parent can relate to… This book is absolutely hilarious! It is not meant for children, but you can edit it as reading it so it can be a children’s book. The pictures are funny, the situations can be related to, and the book is overall really funny. This book should be read by all parents who have a picky eater. My son pulls the same stuff kids do in this book. The page where the kid refuses to eat pancakes because he suddenly hates them, when they used to be his favorite, and the parent told him he’s full of **** and to stop lying made me laugh. My son will love something one day, and then claim to hate it the next. This would be a great gift to anyone that has a toddler, or anyone who has a kid that can be a jerk about eating ;) Go to Amazon4.0 out of 5 stars Yup This book hit a little close to home. I’d have given it the fifth star, but I’ve said almost every line from this book, at one point or another, so I know it wrote itself. Go to Amazon4.0 out of 5 stars Good Fun If you are a fan of Adam Mansbach’s Go the F*** to sleep and its accompanying audio book narrated by Samuel L. Jackson, then you will probably love this book. Written and drawn in the style of a children’s book, You Have to F****** Eat addresses to age old battle fought between child and parent at meal time. Imagine Good Night Moon or Where the Wild Things Are if they were written by a foul-mouthed sailor. The language is raw, but the tone and “story” are pitch perfect.As I stated in my review of Go The F*** to Sleep, avoid this book if you are easily offended.I took a star off because this is Adam Mansbach’s second children’s book parody and I felt like it rehashed the original book’s formula without breaking much new comedic territory. Go to Amazon5.0 out of 5 stars Hilarious I was in tears, I laughed so hard reading this book. I have two kids, both who have feeding issues. My eldest is in college and doesn’t have a feeding tube anymore and is greedy. My youngest still has a feeding tube. After some minor test, there was no reason for them not to eat. They just didn’t want to so they had to get feeding tubes. The title of the book alone had me cracking up. If only I could read it to them lol. I’m getting his other books. Go to Amazon
Castiel whirls around, hands quickly hiding the construction paper valentine behind his back. It’s large and kind of lopsided, but his Gabriel said it was just perfect: green like Dean’s eyes, big like his heart.
…It’s even got that one mistake that resembles the hole where his friend’s front teeth should be.
“Cas, here, I got something for you!”
Dean practically jumps up and down in his excitement, gap-toothed grin widening as he reveals, with a flourish, what is behind his back. “See?!” he exclaims. “It’s for today! For Valentime’s!”
one time I was in Chile and I was trying to purchase a power converter because all my electronics are american
so I went to this shady electronics shop on a corner and it appeared to be managed and organized entirely by an 11-year-old girl with bows in her hair. I asked about adapters, figuring she’d get her dad or boss to help, but no, she dove right in and started asking me about the voltage I needed and a heckton of other specs I didn’t even know existed until finally she nodded sagely, climbed up a stepstool to reach a mid-height shelf, and gently placed a dusty box on the counter in front of me. “it’s a little old,” she said, “but I think you’ll find this to be your best bet.”
i was kind of amazed at this precocious kid and asked what her name was.
“Isabella,” she replied, with a smug smile, “but most people call me Genius.”
i almost dropped the converter as i stumbled out of the store because never in my life have i wanted more to adopt a child
Jughead felt the cold air against his stomach as he stretched. It took him a moment to realize where he was - once he did, he looked at the empty space beside him.
He yawned, then sat up. Music was coming from downstairs. He scratched the back of his head and looked around for his beanie, swinging his legs off the bed. His beanie was nowhere to be seen. He groaned and padded out of the room, rubbing the sleep out of his eyes.
As he padded quietly down the stairs, he could he the music getting louder and louder.
What the hell was she listening to?
Jughead ran his fingers through his hair as he yawned again, his socked feet making no noise as he spotted Betty in the kitchen.
She was facing away from him, bunny slippers on her feet, blue cotton panties clinging to her, legs bare. Her hair was damp, leaving wet impressions on her white tank top. Jughead’s beanie was on her head.
She had a bowl under her arm and she was singing into a wooden spoon, batter dripping off the tip. There was coffee pouring slowly into the pot and bacon sizzling on the stove.
Betty swayed her hips along to the music. “-Just like animals…” She broke off to howl, tilting her head up towards the ceiling. “… baby, I’m preying on you tonight, hunt you down, eat you alive…” Betty continued, stirring the batter.
Jughead bit back a laugh, smiling to himself. He couldn’t help but notice her hair had soaked through the material of her tank top - it was obvious there wasn’t anything under her tank top, sending his mind racing.
She set the bowl on the counter and opened the cupboard above her and pulled out a bag of chocolate chips. She ripped open the bag and emptied half of it into the bowl.
The song changed to something Jughead recognized - one of his favorite songs, in fact.
“Bum-bum-bah-da-da,” Betty sang along.
“Start spreadin’ the news,” Jughead sang in a baritone voice. “I’m leavin’ today,” He continued.
Betty practically jumped out of her skin. “Jesus, shit, Jughead!”
He chuckled and waltzed into the room. “Sorry. You’re in a good mood for someone who wants to die.” He wiggled his eyebrows and walked past her, opening cupboard doors, looking for a coffee mug.
“I was going to bring you breakfast in bed,” Betty murmured, a smile playing on her lips. She reached past Jughead and grabbed two coffee mugs, her chest brushing his shoulder.
Jughead’s breath hitched as Betty grazed him. “Here,” She murmured, handing him a coffee mug.
Betty poured herself a mug of coffee, pouring milk and sugar into her cup before passing Jughead the coffee pot.
“You’re up pretty early.”
“I have trouble sleeping.” Betty murmured. “I can always fall asleep just fine, but I wake up a lot. I have bad dreams.”
“I sleep too much,” Jughead yawned. “Sleeping is the best part of my day.”
Betty smiled sadly at him as she poured the pancake batter into the skillet on the stove. She plated the bacon and took a bowl of fruit salad out of the fridge, telling Jughead to have a seat in the other room.
She set a plate with four pancakes in front of him a few minutes later and set her own plate on the table. Frank Sinatra was still playing loudly in the kitchen.
Jughead spooned fruit salad onto his plate with some bacon strips and drizzled syrup onto his pancake stack.
Betty watched him with a smile on her face as he cut into his pancakes with the side of his fork and shoved them in his mouth.
“What?” He said, covering his mouth as he chewed. “It’s really good.”
Betty smiled again. “I’m glad. I love cooking.”
“No one’s ever made me breakfast before,”Jughead murmured once he swallowed.
Betty took a sip of her coffee. “What?”
Jughead shrugged. “I mean, my mom poured cereal in a bowl for me or tossed me a banana when I was a kid, and I’ve ordered pancakes at Pop’s but nobody has ever made me a hot, delicious breakfast like this.” He shoved another bite in his mouth and washed it down with a swig of coffee.
“Oh…” Betty murmured. “Well, I’m glad you like it. Do you want more coffee?”
Jughead nodded. “I can get it though, finish your pancakes.” He pushed his chair back. “You want more? Milk and sugar, right?”
Betty nodded, cutting into her pancake and shoving it into her mouth. She finished as Jughead returned with their coffees.
“I’m going to want my hat back, by the way,” Jughead smirked.
Betty’s cheeks flushed with heat. “Oh my god,” She reached up, plucking the beanie off her head and dragging it down. “I forgot I was wearing it.” She placed it on the table between them. “I’m sorry.”
Jughead shook his head slowly. “It’s okay.” He smiled. “It looked good on you.”
Jughead padded into Betty’s room dressed in his clothes from yesterday. His hair was still wet, so his beanie was tucked under his elbow.
“Do you have a computer I could use?” He mumbled quietly.
Betty looked up from her journal. “Yeah, you can use my laptop.” She jutted her chin toward her desk. “Why, what’s up?”
“I just need to check on something,” Jughead murmured. He opened the laptop on her desk and clicked on the power button. “What’s your password?”
“Caramelkitten1, capital C.”
Jughead nodded, smiling as he typed in the password, then turned back to Betty. She was reading a Jodi Picoult book.
“Is it okay if I put music on? Will that disturb you?”
Betty smiled and shook her head. “No, go ahead.”
Jughead powered up YouTube and turned on a Manchester Orchestra song before he opened his email.
“I love this song,” Betty murmured.
“You do?” Jughead asked, his eyebrows knitting together. “What about that pop crap you were listening to in the kitchen?”
Betty shrugged. “I like everything. I have more songs of theirs in my iTunes library.” She gave him a small half smile.
Jughead nodded. He clicked through his emails before opening the one he was looking for.
What was with that voicemail you left me? I tried to call you back but I guess Dad didn’t pay the bill again.
School’s going OK. I hate my teacher this year but I’m taking the creative writing class like you suggested. I love it.
I wanted to tell you something a while ago, but I never worked up the courage to tell you on the phone. Writing it is easier, so here goes: Billy hit me. I showed Mom the bruise, and she kicked him out right away, but she didn’t want me to tell anyone. I’m sorry I didn’t tell you sooner. I’m OK, but I thought you should know.
Email me soon, Jug, I love you.
Jughead didn’t realize tears were rolling down his face until Betty brushed one off his cheek.
“Are you okay?” She asked sadly. Her thumb brushed his jaw until his eyes focused on her. “Jughead?”
He nodded and bit his lip. “Can I be alone, please?” He murmured.
Betty nodded and stood up, faltering towards her door. “Hey, Jughead? You can talk to me if you need to.” She said quietly.
“Thanks,” He bit out.
She left him in the room as she padded down the hallway and sat on the top step of the staircase.
For a moment, it was silent. She couldn’t hear the typing of keys or music playing or even a creak in the floorboards. Then, suddenly, she heard Jughead scream. It was muffled, like he was screaming into a pillow, but it sent shivers down her spine.
Her eyes pricked, tears pooling.
“Fuck!” She heard Jughead scream from her bedroom.
Betty stood back up and paced back to her bedroom. Jughead was sitting on her bedroom floor, his knees tucked up to his chest. Sobs were wracking his body.
“Jughead?” Betty murmured quietly, placing a hand on his shoulder. “Please talk to me.”
Jughead didn’t say anything, but his sobs seemed to subside. She sat down next to him and rubbed his back.
He looked up at her, his big blue eyes filled with tears. “I was supposed to protect her,” He choked out.
“My little sister,” He murmured. “I-I’m supposed to protect her, and I wasn’t there and I’m a fucking failure just like they said.” A fresh wave of tears rolled down his cheeks.
Jughead motioned toward Betty’s laptop, the page still open. She got up and quickly read through it. She turned, her face serious, and sat down next to Jughead once more.
“You didn’t know, Jughead. You can’t protect someone from something you don’t know is happening.”
Jughead shook his head. “She’s the only reason I’m still here and I let her down.”
“Shh,” Betty murmured. She placed her hand against his cheek and rubbed her thumb against his tears. “It’s not your fault.”
Jughead clutched Betty’s arm, his chin wavering. He collapsed against Betty’s body, curling himself into her tiny lap.
She could feel warm tears against her thighs, his body shaking with the immensity of his sadness. She leaned forward, wrapping her body as best she could around him, trying to hold him together.
“I’m sorry, Jughead, it’ll be okay,” She murmured. She found his hand and gathered it in her own. “It’ll be okay,” She repeated.
They stayed on the floor until Jughead’s tears subsided. Eventually, his breathing evened out and his chest started to rise and fall rhythmically.
Summary: Emma and Killian’s children have no idea why their parents laugh every time they request pancakes for breakfast. (Smutty future pancakes.)
Note: So I’ve been loving all of the smutty fics that have come from that pancake scene. This just came from thinking about how this pancake euphemism for sex might live on for years and what would happen when Emma and Killian had children of their own who want pancakes. I originally didn’t intend to make it smutty, but I just couldn’t help myself. Hope you enjoy it! ~Steph
…Why Can’t We Have Pancakes, Too?- Part 1/1…
Killian wrapped his arms around his wife’s waist as she poured a cup of coffee. His lips moved to her ear.
“Last night was amazing, love,” he whispered.
Emma giggled as his lips trailed down to her neck.
“It sure was,” she breathed, as she threw her head back onto his shoulder and closed her eyes.
Killian’s hand moved to the belt on Emma’s robe. He quickly undid it and slipped his hand underneath. His fingers trailed under her camisole until he was stroking the soft skin of her stomach. Emma let out a contented sigh as his hand began to trail down to the lace of her panties and his hook slid up to circle her nipple.
“I don’t know about you,” he muttered, as he used his teeth to pull back the robe to reveal her bare shoulder and move his mouth to it. “But I’m really craving pancakes this morning.”
“We can’t,” she managed weakly, as he kissed her shoulder. “The kids will be up any minute.”
Killian sighed against his wife’s skin, as he heard the pitter patter of little feet coming down the stairs. Emma jerked her head up and elbowed him in the ribs so he would remove himself from her. She quickly tied her robe. Killian bit down hard on his lip and ran his hand down the front of his jeans, just as the kids made their way into the kitchen.
“Good morning,” Emma said, dropping a kiss on their heads.
“Morning, loves,” Killian said.
The two stepped back to admire the products of their true love, as they commonly did. It still amazed them sometimes that their love had created them. They were like looking at miniature versions of themselves. Ruthie blonde and fair skinned and Liam dark haired and blue eyed.
“What’s for breakfast?” eight year old Ruthie asked, as she sat down at the table.
“I want pancakes!” six year old Liam said.
“Me too!” Ruthie agreed.
Emma and Killian stared at their children. They turned to look at each other and then burst out laughing.
Ruthie crossed her arms over her chest. “Why are you laughing?”
“Why do you laugh every time we ask for pancakes?” Liam asked.
Emma stifled another laugh. “Sorry. No time for pancakes today. You’ll be late for school.”
“We never get to have pancakes!” Ruthie pouted.
“Yeah, you two get to have pancakes all the time without us. It’s not fair!” Liam shouted.
Killian’s brow furrowed. “What do you mean we get to have pancakes all the time without you?”
Ruthie shrugged. “We hear you guys talking, you know. You don’t think we’re listening but we are. Just last night when we walked by your bedroom, we heard you say you were having pancakes for dessert.”
“Yeah, we like pancakes and we like dessert,” Liam said. “But you didn’t ask us if we wanted any. And you guys always tell us we should share.”
Emma and Killian shot each other a glance. Pancakes as a euphemism for sex had become a frequent inside joke between them. They didn’t think their children had noticed, but apparently they had.
Jesus, a sniper with the FBI had shot the mother during the Ruby Ridge Standoff, but they didn’t know they had killed her, so when they were trying to open negotiations with the family in the cabin they’d try and address her, saying stuff like “Vicki, we won’t harm you, come bring the kids out, we’re having pancakes.” Randy Weaver assumes they did know they had killed her and that the FBI was just taunting him over his dead wife, who’s body was laying in the kitchen