take one box

—and Alfred is my grandpa, while Babs is like a sister and mentor to me. Going out from there is when things can get tricky. Former Commissioner Gordon is somewhat like a grandpa, though he’s more like a cool uncle I get to hang out with sometimes, and while Ivy and Harley are technically rivals like the Joker they treat me and padre like family, so they’re sort of like my aunts, and—


hidden box : jihoon & jonghyun

trash-lover-crazy  asked:

Hello there!! I really really love your blog, it gives me Life ❤😄 you are so good at writing!!. Also I wanted to make a request for a headcanon where MC is playing the Pocky game with RFA +Saeran+V 🙏🙏. If you don't want to it's totally okay^°^

LOL, we love Pocky Game scenarios! Hope you enjoy these~


  • He’s helping you prepare party favors for the next RFA event in a few days
  • You two had been working for hours so he offers to get some snacks
  • When he returns, he’s holding a pocky in his mouth
  • “Hey, MC, wanna play a game?” he asks with a wink
  • You’re know he’s just teasing you, so you decide to get him back
  • You lean forward and press the stick between your teeth
  • He goes along with it
  • Until you guys get close…really close…
  • Then he just Nopes out of there


  • He was in a really intense game when you stopped by
  • He tells you he’ll be there in a second and to grab a snack if you want
  • You notice a box of pocky beside him
  • In fact, he’s holding one on the side of his mouth at that moment while he’s engrossed
  • You quietly come next to him, nibbling away at the biscuit
  • He did say to grab a snack
  • He doesn’t even notice until he feels heat by his cheek
  • He turns his head and there’s a brief moment of contact with your lips
  • When he realizes, he just slaps a hand over his mouth and turns really red
  • “Yoosung, you didn’t like it?”
  • “No! No–er–not that–um–”
  • He shuts of his computer suddenly
  • “Do you…wanna play again?” he asks sheepishly


  • You stick a pocky in your teeth
  • “Hey, Jaehee, you wanna–”
  • “I prefer Hello Panda. Thanks though!”


  • He recently returned from a business trip to Japan
  • The clients had given him this huge basket of goodies
  • He tells you to take whatever you want
  • That’s when you spot the pocky, which you say is actually your favorite snack
  • He gives it to you and you place one in your mouth
  • He asks what’s so good about it
  • He’s never had that commoner snack, so he doesn’t understand the hype
  • You hold the box out for him to take one
  • But he takes a bite of half of it from the one in your mouth
  • You’re already flushed, but then he smirks
  • “I’ve also heard of the Pocky Game, but I’ve never played. Want to try?”
  • You agree a huge mistake really
  • You both go through the whole box because you keep dropping out when you both were centimeters apart


  • You see a whole crateful of pocky in the corner of the room
  • You gasp and go to check it out
  • “I love these! Hey, Seven, can I have one?”
  • He agrees…on one condition
  • He sticks one in his mouth
  • He expected you to drop out right before your lips met…
  • But you went all the way and now he was just a flustered tomato
  • You really liked pocky okay
  • He stops you before you can grab a box
  • “I–er–thought of another condition!”
  • He sticks another three pocky in his mouth and winks


  • He had found a new favorite snack besides ice cream
  • Lately, you barely saw him without a box of pocky
  • Feeling a bit bold, you take one from the box and ask if he’s played the Pocky Game befoer
  • He doesn’t answer, so you stick the pocky in your teeth and gesture for him to do the same on the other end
  • He rolls his eyes and snaps the biscuit out of your mouth
  • He kisses you straight on the lips and walks away
  • You’re just standing there stunned for a good five minutes
  • You played yourself


  • He’s heard of the Pocky Game, but he’s never played it before
  • So, when you suggest it to him, he’s willing to try something new
  • On the first attempt, he gets really shy and breaks off the biscuit a little more than half way through
  • After composing himself, he asks if he can try again
  • You agree and take the other end of the biscuit in his mouth
  • Hon-hon-hon…let’s just say he isn’t shy this time around…

Check out our other headcanons~ Masterlist

Cute ‘n New

Based off this prompt:

Word count: 462

Phil stormed through the halls of the school, not in the mood for anyone, he never was. He liked to keep to himself and he hated sharing his life and opinions with anyone, but for some reason people still tried to be his friend. Of course, over the years less and less people tried to get to know him and many learned that he liked his space. Only the new people tried to get near him, and since it was the beginning of the school year, there were a lot of new people.

So naturally, Phil wasn’t in a good mood, and he tried his best to act it, which surprisingly wasn’t so hard. Most people in the halls kept their heads down when walking past him, which he was thankful for. He wasn’t in the mood for anyone, so he was glad everyone was seemingly ignoring him. Until a boy ran straight into him.

The boy fell on his ass and let out a low grumble. Phil growled down at him, not even bothering to try to help him up. His mood worsening with each passing second.

“Watch it!” Phil snarled out.

The boy looked up at Phil and started mumbling out apologies, but in that moment Phil didn’t really care. Not because he didn’t want to hear what the boy had to say, apology or otherwise, but because the boy was adorable. His slightly curly brown hair bouncing in front of his eyes, and his coffee brown eyes innocently looking up at Phil. Phil had never seen someone so beautiful.

“-I swear I didn’t mean too, I’m just lost and-” The boy rambled on.

“It’s fine,” Phil cut him off, “are you alright?”

“Oh-um, yes.”

“Good. I’d hate to see someone as cute as you get hurt.”

The boy’s face flushed.

“Do you need help up?” Phil asked.

The boy nodded. Phil took the boy’s hand and pulled him up off the ground. He then leaned down to grab the boy’s book that he had dropped when he fell.

“Here you go,” Phil said, handing him the books.

“Thanks,” the boy smiled, “um, why is everyone staring at us?”

Phil chuckled, “because they’re not used to me being nice to others, but don’t worry yourself with them.”

“Okay,” he paused, “but why aren’t you nice to anyone?”

“That is something you will learn in due time- that is, if you wish to get to know me.” Phil said.

“I’d like that.” The boy muttered.

“Me too,” Phil smiled, “but before that, I think I’d like to know your name.”

The boy giggled, “my name’s Dan.”

“Dan,” Phil tested the name on his tongue, “an adorable name for an adorable boy- well, Dan, it’s a pleasure to meet you, I’m Phil.”

Vetra has a footlocker full of nothing but the exact same brand and flavor of cereal in her cubbyhole

and they say aliens can’t be relatable

The Flash Imagine

@minimiuse  - 3, 17, 22, 24 pls?

Scott McCall or The Flash

#3 “Don’t fucking touch me!”
#22 “I’m better off dead.” “No, you’re better off alive, with me.”  
#17 “I never imagined myself in a wedding dress.”  
#24 “You know if you wanted sex, you could’ve just asked.”

*Your obsessive abusive ex comes over to your house and you’re boyfriend Barry luckily arrived in time to get him away and all the police*

(Warning: mentions of abuse, slight physical abuse)

(I changed the order of the prompts hope you don’t mind x)

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I’m fine staying a slowpoke forever but if I were to meet a real nice shellder I wouldn’t be opposed to evolving with them! Real cute and sweet, like us!

Lift Tip By Store

This place is seriously so easy. For beginner lifters, know that BARCODES DO NOT TRIGGER THE ALARMS. Expensive perfumes rarely have RFIDs or soft tags.
Cosmetics- Just slip stuff into your bag, it’s that easy.
Food- Get a basket, fill it up, go to the front, grab a reusable bag, pretend like you forgot something, conceal in seasonal, and then meander out.
Furniture- Who the fuck do you are?
Clothes- Just slip into bag. BARCODES DO NOT SET OFF ALARMS JESUS
Electronics- Target don’t fuck around with electronics. Just keep lifting and returning stuff to build store credit or something.

Actually I think everyone working there must be literally retarded.
Electronics- Just conceal. When you’re trying to leave, wait till someone with a packed cart (and with kids if you’re lucky) tries to leave. Walk out with them, and when the alarm goes off, give the family an accusing look and keep walking.
Cosmetics- Take and conceal in Pet Supplies.
Food- Same as target.
Clothes- I’ve never taken Walmart clothes ew.

Little trickier. Bring wire cutters, a huge bag, and accomplices if you can.
Handbags- Most are untagged, but Michael Kors and other really high end bags are tagged. Cut the wires. They won’t beep.
High End Cosmetics- Politely evade the annoying sa and cleverly conceal as you go.
Clothes- They tag everything, bring a hook.
Shoes- Check thoroughly for tags.
Clarisonic- Wait and conceal. They never beep.

Claire’s and Icings:
Are you 9? Just avoid mirrors and go cray.

Clothes- Never tagged. Conceal in baby.
Jewelry- conceal in baby.
Appliances- little ones are easy, just conceal.

If you have a hook, this store is so easy.

Most things aren’t tagged. Bring a hook just in case.

Stick the dildo up your ass

Hot Topic:
Bring a hook. Not that it matters, the sa are just as bored and misunderstood as you are

Take one shoe from a box, get the match from a different box. Conceal.

Beauty- conceal as you go
Clothes- Bring a hook
Shoes- you need a hook

Peace, Okieriete Onaodowan x Reader

Prompt: Reader likes making Oak baked goods. (Which I interpreted as ‘Reader owns a bakery’.)

Words: 1288

Author’s Note: It’s still 10:20 where I live, so technically I still put out a fic on Friday…whoops a little late!

Warnings: None?

Askbox | Masterlist

“We’re closed!” You called, not bothering to turn at the sound of the bell above the door chiming.

“Even for your favorite customer?” You instantly recognized the voice and spun to greet him with a smile.

“Customer usually implies you pay. You show up unannounced and charm your way into a box of free pastries.” You teased your old friend, who in turn leaned against the counter and shrugged casually.

“I distinctly remember striking up a deal. Free food for free tickets.” Oak grinned when you squealed in excitement.

“You got it?”

“I got it! Orchestra, right in the middle so you have an unobstructed view of my beautiful face.” He struck a few poses as you snatched the ticket from his hand, confirming its existence.

“I owe you five million free pastries! You have to bring some in for the crew, as a thank you.” You immediately got to work, stuffing as many baked goods as you could into various pink boxes from behind the counter.

“Don’t you have actual paying customers to feed?” Oak’s voice rang out. You popped up from behind the glass display case with four boxes stuffed to the brink.

“Screw them!” You insisted, pushing the boxes into his empty hands. “Thank you, I promise not to embarrass myself in front of them!”

“Don’t make promises you can’t keep!” He called to you as you pushed him out the door, knowing he was on the brink of running late for the first show of the day. “See you tonight!” You stood at the glass door, watching for a moment as he struggled under the mass of boxes while crossing the busy street.

You sighed, making sure the ticket was secure in your pocket before flipping the sign at the door from ‘closed’ to ‘open’.

“Oak, let me help!” Random people called, each taking one box from him and placing it on the common table.

“What are these?” Daveed asked, raising his brow and investigating the closest box.

“My friend owns a bakery and is seeing the show tonight, she wanted to give these to you guys for luck.” That was all it took for the rampage to start. The entire cast and crew acted as vultures around the boxes, barely leaving crumbs behind.

“I call the croissant! My wife will kill me if I don’t bring one home for her!” Lin called over everyone, who parted for him to take claim over a few treats. He took note of the bakery’s name for future use before sauntering over to Oak with a skip in his step.

“So…” He started, “This friend of yours…” He wiggled his eyebrows, much to the displeasure of Oak. “They’re the friend, huh?”

“Shut up.” Oak grumbled, snatching his usual chocolate chip muffin, snapping a picture of the cast as they swarmed around the few remaining pastries, and stomped off to his dressing room.

“I cried before you even came out.” You insisted.

“Nothing sad even happens in the first few minutes!” He responded, tugging at your hand as he ushered you backstage.

“I know, but I knew what was coming.” You whispered, very aware of where you were. You dragged you across the rotating floor without stopping, weaving through the halls before stopping in what appeared to be a makeshift kitchen.

“Hello, hello!” Called the very last person Oak wanted in contact with you tonight, Lin. “The baker has arrived!”

“The genius!” You shot back, noticing Oak’s discomfort, “Oak says you’re not that smart in real life.”

“Guilty.” He shrugged, twisting his hair up into a makeshift bun, “Thanks for the goodies this morning, by the way! Oak’s been keeping you a secret for too long.” Lin elbowed him, eliciting a grunt and a whine from Oak, who had stayed awfully quiet during this interaction.

“My bakery is the best kept secret in New York.” You insisted as Oak grumbled something about seeing his dressing room before Anthony and Daveed left for the night.

“I’ll let you kids get to it.” Lin saluted, zipping his hoodie up and preparing himself for the crowd that had more than likely gathered outside the stage door. “Peace!” He threw up the peace sign, taking his leave as Oak dragged you away.

“He seemed nice.” You told him, trying to make conversation. He didn’t respond, and you wondered why Lin was such a sore subject for him.

“We’re closed!” You called, not bothering to look up from the register.

“Sorry, just here for the croissants!” Lin called, pulling his headphones down to wrap around his neck. “My wife, Vanessa, she loved the one I brought home last night. Thought I’d stop in?” He made his way to the counter, leaning against it just as Oak had the morning before.

“You guys are always welcome here, closed or not.” You got to work packaging a few croissants and a cookie. A treat for his son, you thought. “Can I ask you something?” You pushed the bag across the counter, shaking your head when he tried to pull out his wallet.


“Are you and Oak friends? He was kind of cold after we talked to you last night.”

He winced at the question.

“It’s just…I know things.”

“Things? Well, you’re a certified genius, hopefully you know something.” He let out a single loud laugh, and you prided yourself in being witty enough to elicit the sound.

“I mean, it’s not really my place to say. Oak, he’s a quiet guy. He likes to talk, though. Most of the time we talk, it’s about you.”

“Me?” You pointed to yourself, as if there was another you living somewhere that he could be referring to.

“It’s very cute, if not a little annoying. Although, now that I’ve met you and earned your trust enough to get free croissants.” He grabbed the bag off the counter, “The praise is well earned.” He took in your dumbstruck expression, “If you feel the same way about him, you should talk to him. He’s got a few things to say.” He threw up his peace sign again as he backed out the door and across the street towards the theater.

You were very grateful the doorman had recognized you on sight. With the cover story of ‘Oh, I’m bringing Oak lunch!’ and a wrapped panini in your grasp, it only took a minute for you to be let through.

You passed through pretty much unnoticed save for a few people who thanked you again for the treats from the day before. You nodded, stopping to ask where you would find Oak. They all pointed the way back towards the kitchen area you had been in before.

He sat at the table, scrolling through his phone and sipping from a water bottle, half in costume. He looked up as you entered, unsure how or why you had come.


“Hi. Lunch.” You pushed the sandwich into his hands before he could protest, “Also, do you want to go out tomorrow?”

He looked back and forth from the panini to you, wondering how the two were related.

“Uh, yes?”

Inside, a parade was running through your head. On the outside, you played it cool. Letting a simple smile grace your lips, you tried to casually back out with your head held high. You eventually ran into a wall, and then another person.

Finally, you took your leave, throwing up Lin’s signature peace sign as you ducked out.

The pieces began to put themselves together. The familiar box Lin carried in this morning. The peace sign. The smug grin Lin wore all morning.

Lin-Manuel Miranda!” Oak called, pushing out of his chair as he heard a distant scream of panic.

Story time

So my mother was telling me about her days in marching band and she had a BD that everyone loved he was hilarious and acted more like a student than most of the students. So anyways about ten minutes before they were about to start one of their performances the BD just looked around and said “I’m tired of all of this crap” he runs to his car grabs a big box runs back and tells everyone to take one, inside the box was a bunch of cheap plastic kazoos you find at the dollar store. So in uniform the entire marching band does their performance exactly as they had planned to except with kazoos.

Bedroom Headcanon [Pevensies]

Requested by @hevcia

Peter Pevensie:

  • Peter’s room is messy yet organized
  • It looks messy to a stranger, but he has his way of finding things when he needs them
  • Lucy is the only other person who knows how to find things
  • “Ed, can you get me my fountain pen?”
  • “Where is it?”
  • “It’s in that black box!”
  • “Where’s the box?!”
  • “You know what, never mind. Get Lu!”
  • Clothes are sorted in a way only Peter understands
  • His bed is the only thing that is neat every day
  • Lots of red; red blankets, red photographs, red pillowcases
  • With gold accents; gold stitching, gold photo frames, gold engravings on chairs
  • Peter has lots of family photos on his desk
  • He likes to look at them when taking a break from homework
  • His desk has lots of drawers
  • One is for writing utensils; pens, pencils, ink, erasers
  • There’s papers and assignments in other drawers
  • But one drawer at the very top contains an odd assortment of items
  • It has a miniature sword, a white unicorn model, a sketch of a centaur ripped from a book, a beautifully pressed flower, and a soft square of fake golden fur
  • They’re things that remind Peter of Narnia
  • Occasionally, on bad days, Peter pulls out the items, laying them out on his desk
  • He’ll touch each item softly
  • The fake fur is last, and it is the item that seems to give him the most energy to continue on

Susan Pevensie:

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anonymous asked:

"You need to go"!!!!!

A friendship once based on goofy jokes, random movies, and take out became something a little more than friends, but less than lovers. 

The two of you found yourselves testing the boundaries of your friendship, crossing normal lines and pushing the friendship to its limits. Casual movies on your couch with multiple take out boxes one thing led to another, a simple moment collected on the couch led to an intimate moment, which led to other private moments, ultimately turning a once normal and casual friendship into something that was not entirely labelled. 

There were no public outings, not an ounce of affection at any given time except for when in the comfort of one of your houses.
To everyone’s knowledge, the two of you are merely friends who occasionally go to the bar with groups and socialise.
Little do they know that is when it is close to midnight on a quiet Saturday night that you are fighting the urge to strip each other of innocence and move the sappy movie to a more entertaining atmosphere. 

He’s charming, adoring, hilarious, intelligent, and of course talented, not to mention notably handsome and captivating. He sparked a fire in your soul when you thought there was nothing to spark. 

The only problem is that there is no label on the two of you.

Friends, friends with benefits, romantics?

Keep reading

I can't breath.

Hello, love bugs!!
Warnings - fluff l, swears.
Dan x Reader

Hi! I’m sick rn and was wondering if you could do a “Dan taking care of you when you’re sick”?-anonymous.

I went out of order of requests for you anon. Only because your sick and I have a sweet spot for mothering people back to health. Hope this helps a little.

“I’m back from the store and I have the supplies. I actually opened the tissues to find the softest ones.” The tissues are tossed from the bag into Dan’s bed as he continues rummaging through the grocery bag. “I couldn’t remember if you wanted mucus cough syrup or nonmucus so we now have both. Next, I got a package thing to make some soup. My mother always made me soup so I will do the same and channel my mother helping powers.” Dan looks up from his bag or tricks to look at you. “No offense babe but you look like absolute shit. I wasn’t gone for more than half an hour. I’m starting to think it’s because when I left the lights weren’t on and I couldn’t fill see the damage.“

You finally feel like you can get a word in after the tornado of Dan’s sick supplies. You loved him and were so thankful for him leaving the house on a Saturday morning no less but he was being mean. “First of all, these are the softest tissues, ” you say taking one from the box and blowing your nose. “Secondly, I said no mucus I even texted you. But that’s okay. Lastly, fuck off. Am I supposed to look like I’m going to the ball? ” saying those few things honestly took your breath away from you. Stupid people on the tube sharing germs and shit.

“I’m going to chalk up your sass level from just being sick,” Dan says as he reads the bottle instructions for how much syrup to give you to hopefully knock you out and finally have a nap.

“I’m sorry who’s the sick one again?” The last time Dan was sick you honestly considered running for the hills never to return. He’s a grown ass man but when sick he is the literal definition of man flu.

“Here drink this and tell me if it tastes gross. It’s for science.” The little cup is in your hand before you can protest that you’re a grown woman who can pour herself some cough medicine. You decided not to push any further and take the shot as if it was something fun like vodka and not cherry flavored bull shit.

“That’s my girl! Something about you and tiny cups. You could have savored the flavor.” You hand Dan the little cup again giving him the look of death.

“When you leave the room next time I am so coughing on your pillow. ”

“Not a chance of me getting sick. After tour and Vidcon and all that jazz, I have a .2% of getting sick. Catch up to my level of immunity.” Dan puts his bag of goodies on the floor beside the bed making room for himself in the bed of sickness.

“In a moment of weakness, I do have to say thank you for going down to the shop to get me all this crap and for taking care of my sick ass.” Once Dan was settled in bed you place your head on his shoulder while reaching for his hand under the covers.

“You’re welcome. But just remember this for when I get sick and you’re ready to ship me away to my mother.”

“I would kiss you right now if I wouldn’t infect you.” You say with a sigh.

“Seconds ago you were threatening me. Make up your mind my love.” Dan’s now rubbing his thumb up and down your knuckles in a soothing repetition making you feel safe and finally sleepy.

“I have a sick brain. I’m allowed to be confused and confusing. It’s your job to nod your head and say yes dear. That’s what my dad would do to my mum.”

“Nope. Even when you’re sick and as you put it this morning. Literally dying. I have to call you out on your bull shit. I still love you, though.” You barely heard the last of what Dan was saying as you let the medicine and relaxation of cuddling with Dan take you away to finally a somewhat restful sleep.

Scratch - Part 6 - (Steve x Reader)

Originally posted by sincerelysaraahh

Summary: (Y/N) and Steve have been best friends since New York, so when when they are both going through a dry spell they agree to a friends with benefits relationship.

A/N: I just wrote the last part of Scratch and I can’t wait for you all to read it. I still don’t know if I will write an epilogue, but I will give myself a few days off of writing before I decide. Total word count is over 17k. Also I completely procrastinated on writing an essay due today so I kinda have to work on that. I’m half way through BSing my way though it, so wish me luck.

Warnings: light smut I guess ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5

“I got take out,” I call out setting the many boxes filled with food on the counter of the kitchen.

“Did you get pot stickers,” Sam asked taking one of the boxes and opening it.

“Enough to feed an army,” I grin. “Or in our case, the world’s mightiest superheroes.”

“I thought you didn’t like being called a super hero,” Steve said entering the room and taking the box I handed him.

“I’m not a fan of it since I don’t actually have a superpower,” I shrug. “But I’ll still take the compliment.”

“Are there pot stickers,” Nat asked as she walked into the kitchen.

“Nat I am disappointed,” I frown. “You really think I would get take out and not get pot stickers?”

“Just making sure,” she shrugs grabbing one of the boxes from the table.

The rest of the team eventually showed up and grabbed their box and we all sat around the living area eating.

“I still think one of the most memorable missions was the one we had just outside of Vegas,” Sam said as he reached for another pot sticker from the box on the coffee table.

“Was the mission what was memorable, or was it the long weekend we took at Caesar’s palace,” Steve laughed.

“Definitely the long weekend,” I speak up remembering the small vacation we had taken.

“I think we should do it again,” Tony says making everyone’s attention turn to him.

“I agree,” I grin. “When was the last time we took a vacation?”

“The long weekend in Vegas,” Nat says.

“Then it’s settled,” Tony pulls out his phone and tapped a few buttons. “Everyone pack your bags. We leave for Vegas in the morning.”

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give gifts give MEMES motherfucker

if you like this photo you should give me gifts by buying this design on redbubble! you can get this spoopy puppet on t-shirts/hoodies, cases for iphones, samsungs and more, prints ranging from small little bb framed prints to posters to vandalize your home’s inner flesh, bags, mugs, pillows, or on a custom spiral notebook!! pls consider showing ur friends so i can make it rain

anonymous asked:

Supplementing that one prompt about the Extraforovs, Viktor's parents present Yuuri with all the gifts they's been accumulating for him since their son raved about Drunk Banquet Boy and escaped to Japan.

“Oh no. I couldn’t possibly,” splutters Yuuri, staring at the frankly alarming mountain of presents filling the foyer of the mansion.

Mr and Mrs Nikiforov look at him, and then at each other, and then, as one, they push the mountain closer to him. Yuuri takes a step back in response, and the presents move forward once more.

“We insist,” says Mr Nikiforov.

“You’ve been so good to our Vitenka,” agrees Mrs Nikiforov.

“Really, this is too much,” Yuuri insists. He doesn’t even want to know what’s in those boxes. Money seems to be no object for these people; for all he knows there could be Faberge eggs in there, or diamond-studded wristwatches, or –

“They’re just little tokens of our appreciation!” simpers Mrs Nikiforov, batting her long silver lashes at him sweetly. Yuuri eyes the boxes and then reaches out, taking the topmost one.

“Would you mind if I just took one of them, then?” he wonders. “I don’t want to be any trouble –”

“Nonsense,” declares Mr Nikiforov. “We’ve been buying you little presents ever since we heard from Vitenka that you’d stolen his heart at the banquet in Sochi!”

There’s a new set of footsteps, and then Viktor is in the room as well, his eyes widened at the sight of the presents. “Mama, Papa!” he exclaims. “Are these all for Yuuri?”

“Vitya,” Yuuri gasps, pushing the box he had been holding into Viktor’s hands. “Tell your parents I can’t accept everything. Tell them in Russian, so there’s no misunderstanding. I –”

“Oh, Yuracya,” sighs Viktor, before Yuuri can even begin making his escape. “There’s really no arguing with my parents. They really like you.”

“But I …” Yuuri gestures to the pile. “No.”

Viktor takes one of the other boxes, gingerly shakes it a little. “Weren’t you saying the other day that you’d like a blender?”

Yuuri raises an eyebrow. “A blender?” he echoes. “You can tell that’s a –”

Viktor tears back the wrapping paper. Sure enough, a top-of-the-line commercial blender peers out at Yuuri. Yuuri’s jaw drops.

Wow,” he mumbles. “That’s… wow. How did you –”

“Vitenka updates us on the things you said he was lacking in Saint Petersburg,” replies Mrs Nikiforov. “We thought we’d help you out a little!”

Yuuri purses his lips, casts another glance towards the pile of presents, and sighs. 

“Well, um. Thank you, then? I don’t know how any of this is going to –”

“We’ll send them over for you,” says Mr Nikiforov almost immediately.

“Right.” Yuuri nods. “Thank you.” He bows slightly, and then takes the box he had thrusted at Viktor earlier and opening it.

This one’s a Faberge egg. Yuuri supresses a groan. Maybe it’ll look good on Viktor’s mantelpiece.