kitchen manners


anonymous asked:

KICKS DOOR DOWN good evening, how would iida, present mic, and midoriya react to walking into their kitchen hoping to help their s/o out with cooking to see them singing and dancing about the kitchen in a provocative manner(like hip and chest gyrations and chest and booty poppin) to some loud music


-Blushes very, very much

-And immediately turns away, before s/o notices he’s there

-Or, he tries to, but he knocks down a few things

-So of course s/o notices him

-And they don’t stop teasing him, ever


-Honestly, he’s mostly unfazed

-He can get a show like that whenever he wants

-But he’ll probably join them

-Just because he isn’t touched, doesn’t mean he can’t have fun ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)


-Lowkey dead

-S/o has it in them to do that??

-Basically just blushes a very, very bright red and doesn’t look them in the eye the rest of the day (or week)

-And s/o is quite confused why, since they don’t know he saw them

Sweet Revenge (Jin, You) Scenario

Requested by anon

Jin woke up to the sound of shouting and hollers. He opened his eyes and sat up with a start. It took him a while to register what was actually happening. Six rowdy boys were standing by his bed singing (or more like shouting) a happy birthday song.

Jin covered his face with a smile; happy at the little surprise prepared by the members but at the same time annoyed at the sudden disturbance of his sweet slumber. 

Hyung! Happy birthday!” Jimin yelled as Taehyung started blowing off party poppers. 

“Where did you get that?” Yoongi asked.

“I always have party poppers…” He said blankly. 


He shrugged, “Why wouldn’t I? Don’t you?”

Yoongi stared at him, probably thinking why the hell he’s having a conversation with him. “O–! Jin hyung!” He said. “How does it feel to be finally 23?" 

Jin scratched his eyes and yawned, "Sleepy?” Everyone chuckled. 

“Sorry we didn’t get you anything,” Jungkook said with a grin and Jin wondered if they actually did it on purpose. “We youngsters are kind of broke.”

Jin snorted, “Yeah, that’s the reason.”

“It’s true, hyung!” Jimin pressed. 

“Don’t listen to them hyung, they totally forgot.” Namjoon countered. 

“Did not!” Jimin and Jungkook protested. 

“I got you party poppers!” Taehyung cheered, popping another one.

“Shut up Taehyung. Nobody cares about your party poppers.” Yoongi snapped making the boy pout then stuck out his tongue at him. 

“Well I appreciate the morning greeting, really.” Jin said, his eyes half opened. “But can you do me a favor and get out so I can get some more sleep?”

Namjoon chuckled, “You heard the birthday boy.” He ushered everyone out of the room and soon Jin was alone. He cuddled on a stuffed bear and sighed happily but before getting back to dreamland, he grabbed his phone from the bedside table to check for messages. His inbox was quite full and he smiled as he scrolled through several birthday greetings from his family and friends. When he had reached the last one, he frowned. The one message which he had been expecting and excited about was not there. The message being from you, his girlfriend. 

Maybe she’s still asleep, he thought as he checked the time: 8:15 AM. Jin knew you should’ve been awake by now but he ignored that fact as he went back to sleep, hoping to see your birthday message by the time he wakes again. 

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anonymous asked:

I have a head canon that Andrew is scared of lighting and thunder. So here's my prompt. You can do it as fluffy or as smutty as you want. ( Though I'm sure you know the kind we both secretly want)

(what a fantastic head canon, consider it accepted.)

(sfw. the fluff… it overtook me……. please let these boys be happy.)

The promised storm rolled in during the early morning, which was to say, Neil Josten woke up at three-fifty-four to a foot lodging in the small of his back and kicking him off the bed.

For two years of sharing a bed every time they managed to sneak away to Columbia, that was a first. He’d woken to a fight, Andrew seeing someone else and Neil not actually being someone else, but that usually involved more hands around the throat and knees shoved into his gut and Andrew staring down at him until they both came down from the adrenaline rush. They were rare, but they happened. There was no fighting a nightmare, waking or asleep.

But when Neil tumbled onto the cold floor, his pillow following him like a loyal companion, and even after regaining his senses and calming his heart, no one appeared at the edge to check on the damage (something Andrew always did but never acknowledged the intent behind), something struck him as Off.

Outside the window, lightning cracked across the sky. The downpour had been bad when they’d fallen asleep, but the light show was new.

Neil rubbed at his newly sore back, but it wasn’t that bad. The lack of movement from Andrew concerned him more.

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Another tragic chapter in I Accidentally Pressed ‘R’ Instead Of ‘E’

Please come out of the fireplace, Pebbles

I just wanted to cook some Hearty Garlic Corn Chowder

bardsoverflowers  asked:

☂ and ⛾ :)

☂ - What does your muse like to do on a rainy day?
“I find I tend to my home much more on rainy days. On a day of inclement weather, I ofttimes spend the day catching up on neglected chores; dusting and cleaning, writing correspondence, ensuring the books in my collection are properly organized. Once this is done, I usually spend the day in the kitchen, baking whatever manner of confection catches my fancy. I’ve recently come across a recipe for the most decadent chocolate cake, and I simply must try it.”

⛾ - Does your muse prefer tea or coffee? Perhaps both, or neither?   
“My preference is usually for tea, if I’m honest, although I am rather choosy with the quality of my leaves. You’ll have my upbringing as a son of House Saillonaux to thank for that; the stellar reputation of the Saillonaux Tea Trade does not come from tales of fancy, and I have experienced some of the finest blends this land has to offer. 

There are times, however, that a good strong cup of coffee is exactly the proper course of action. I will admit to have spent a few too many nights awake until the wee hours of the morning, and require the additional assistance to make it through the day.”


Sugar on the Asphalt: Thirty-Four
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I hope everyone enjoys this chapter! I’d love to hear what you think <3

Previous chapters


mama’s broken chocolate chip cookie; august 14, 2013

I woke up with a low grumbling in the pit of my stomach, a series of quiet gurgles that I was sure Harry could feel just by where he had his hand placed. It was a rude awakening that stirred me from sleep with a quiet groan. I hadn’t finished my dinner last night and I was hungry. I was also warm and comfortable and didn’t want to get out of bed.

I had to decide where my priorities lied: tangled up under the covers with Harry nuzzled against me, or in the kitchen making a bootlegged breakfast with whatever he had in the fridge.

My stomach growled again.

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anonymous asked:

77. No shave November, baby! (for the prompt thing) Please :)

He usually shaves while she takes a shower. It’s when they talk about the day ahead, plans for the weekend, things that need fixing, errands to run. Under prickling heat of the water, she can hear him chattering about whatever’s caught his attention that day. His inflection changes as he juts out his chin or works the razor over his upper lip.

“Giants are playing tonight…there’s a new Indian buffet, we should check it out…let’s try planting an apple tree…”

His exhausting mind hopscotches from one topic to another until he finishes grooming and lets her rinse her hair in peace. She’s managed to get four days past Halloween before she realizes that she’s been showering in complete silence. No stubble in the sink, no shaving cream smears on the mirror. She wraps her sopping hair in a towel and bundles into her thick terry cloth robe.

The hardwood floors retain no warmth and she’s been stubborn about turning on the heat, the temperature hasn’t dipped below freezing yet. She’s rethinking that policy right now as she fights the chill racing up her spine. She finds him in the kitchen, whistling as he pushes a spatula around a frying pan full of scrambled eggs.

Mulderus Domesticus, a breed known for its docile manner, proficient kitchen skills and rampant libido.

“What cha makin’?” she asks as she wraps her arms around his muscled torso. He is warm, warm enough to keep her next to him and away from the thermostat. She presses her chin against the knobby ridges of his spine, which elicits a satisfied noise from him. His back is a one way ticket to the bedroom, or the couch, or the kitchen table, whatever.

“Ham and cheese scramble m’lady,” he says as turns off the burner and moves the pan.

He turns around and rests his hands on her hips.

“What’s going on here?” she asks as she brushes her fingers along the salt and pepper stubble on his jaw.

“No shave November, baby!” he says with entirely too much enthusiasm for this early in the day.

“Really?” she tries to smile, but she’s certain her tone betrays everything. She hates when he has a beard. Aesthetically, it’s great, deeply alluring, but the coarse hair always leaves her skin red and inflamed. Nice in concept, not so much in practice.

“What? You don’t like it?” he asks with a fake pout. “Cat likes it,” he adds as he waggles his eyebrows.

The obese orange tabby on the counter blinks noncommittally and yawns.

“Cat may think she’s the lady of the house, but I’m pulling rank on this one. Besides, last time, no shave November turned into no shave 2008.”

“Aw, you’re no fun,” he grouses.

She leans up on her tiptoes and catches a little nibble of his lower lip between her teeth. The sandpaper scruff scrapes her chin.

“I think we both know that’s not true,” she says as she smiles against his mouth.

His grip on her waist tightens. “I think I’m gonna need some more evidence.”

She kisses him and bites his lip again, causing him to jerk against her.

“Go shave and I’ll give you all the evidence you need.”

He bolts out of the room like his ass is on fire. She smiles to herself and gives Cat a little scratch behind the ear.

“You have to stop encouraging him,” she scolds softly. Cat purrs.