toaster is not amused

AU where Lee Jordan brings a huge black trash bag of muggle stuff to Hogwarts every new school year, like industrial sized boxes of pens and mechanical pencils, binders of Pokemon cards, lots of books like Catcher in The Rye and Lord of The Flies, DVDs, CDs, a video camera, he brings a god damn toaster, he just goes crazy cause it’s so amusing to watch all his friends be so baffled and amazed by these simple non-magical items. 

Continued from here

@quiietones

The Azaranian blinked under the hood of her cloak, staring at the Tamaranian princess she deemed worthy of calling ‘friend’.

But this question?

“They pop in and out of the toaster, Star.” Raven’s voice drawled in that way. She wasn’t being mean in any respect, not by a long shot. But this was amusing. She never grew bored of Starfire’s questions of the ways of humans and their habits.




                           Starfire stared on in confusion. Even Raven’s admittedly short answer did not quench the insatiable curiosity that hungered fiercely inside of her. It still did not make sense in her head, for what did it mean to pop out of something ?

                            The toaster made the poptart pop out, not the poptart popping out on its own. The box and the commercials made it look almost magical.

                              But Raven … ” Starfire began, furrowing her almond shaped brow together, a finger touching her lower lip.  Should they not be called toaster-tarts ? ”

anonymous asked:

Can you please please please please ppllleeaaassseee write some fluffy Drarry? Your writing is amazing btw

The one thing Harry loved most about moving in with Draco (other than getting to live with his boyfriend) was watching Draco learn about muggle things. Draco, who had never stepped into his kitchen in Malfoy Manor, had learned all kind of things about kitchen appliances since moving in with Harry. Harry was especially fond of the way Draco always seemed a bit caught off guard when the toast popped up out of the toaster.

There was an endless amount of things that Harry found amusing about living with Draco. The way he’d get into rows with the microwave for not heating his food properly, or blame the pot when the water would boil over because he’d put too much water in it, or how he hated the sound the hoover made.

One thing that was very surprising was that Draco seemed to love to cook. “Well, I was top of the class in potions,” Draco would say snippily.

Harry would come home from Auror training and find Draco hunched over some recipe, concentrating on it so hard that he didn’t even hear Harry come in. Some of his cooking had been a complete success, like his chicken parm. Others had been a disaster, like the banana bread that had turned to mush in the oven.

“Draco, come on,” Harry complained as Draco tried to roll out the dough yet again. For some reason he’d decided to make homemade pizza instead of just ordering it from the place down the street. “You’ve been at it for half an hour and I’m starving.”

“Then have a biscuit,” Draco grumbled, sprinkling flour onto the counter yet again and starting to knead the dough out into a kind of circle.

“I don’t want a biscuit,” Harry informed him, coming up and standing behind his boyfriend. He wrapped his arms around him from behind and kissed his neck. “I want dinner but you’re a crazy perfectionist about something as basic as pizza.”

“If you’re not going to be helpful then get out of my kitchen,” Draco said, shaking Harry’s arms off.

“Oh, it’s your kitchen now, is it?” Harry asked, stepping back and putting his hands on his hips. “I seem to recall you not even knowing what half the things in here were when we first moved in.”

Draco huffed and turned towards Harry. “What is your point?”

“My point is…” Harry said, stepping forward and crowding Draco against the counter. “I don’t have to be up early in the morning and you are wasting time trying to make a pizza that would barely cost us anything to have someone else make.”

Draco’s pupils dilated and he bit his bottom lip. “What did you have in mind?”

“Most pizza places take about thirty minutes for delivery,” Harry murmured, beginning to kiss down Draco’s neck. His hands slipped around and undid the apron Draco was wearing. “We call and order a pizza and I try to get you off before they get here. You know how I love a challenge.”

Draco grinned. “Thirty minutes is hardly a challenge, Potter.”

Harry hummed and began sucking a mark onto Draco’s neck. “True, maybe we shouldn’t call until after I’ve already started. I’d love to hear you attempt to order a pizza when you’re all out of breath and turned on.”

Draco sighed and tangled his fingers in Harry’s hair. “But I already bought the ingredients to make a pizza here.”

Harry groaned and pulled back. “Why can’t you ever just do things the easy way?” he asked, stomping over the the sofa and flopping down on his back. He looked up at the ceiling and wondered just what he was going to do with his stubborn arse of a boyfriend.

Draco walked over and stood beside the sofa. “Is this really about the pizza?”

“Yes,” Harry answered automatically before really thinking about it. “No, I guess not. How do you think it makes me feel that you’d rather make a pizza than have sex with me? It’s a real self-confidence boost, Malfoy.”

Draco stared at him, his eyes hard and determined. “You haven’t called me Malfoy in years.”

“Well sometimes you’re such a shit I can’t help it,” Harry shot back.

Draco threw a leg over Harry and lowered himself onto the sofa, curling up half on top of him. “Do you know why I’ve become so obsessed with cooking?” he asked softly, making lazy patterns over Harry’s chest with his finger.

“Not a ruddy clue,” Harry responded, gently rubbing Draco’s back.

“I thought about how you grew up,” Draco murmured, making sure not to meet Harry’s gaze. “Your Aunt and Uncle didn’t take care of you, so you can’t have had many good home-cooked meals there. You didn’t grow up with house-elves like I did. Then at Hogwarts there were feasts and I know you felt at home there. But you also felt at home at the Weasley’s and a lot of that had to do with Molly’s cooking. I wanted you to be at home here, too. So I cook for you because it’s not much of a home if we’re ordering food in every night or living off things we can put in that devil microwave.”

Harry would have laughed if he hadn’t had a huge lump in his throat. “Merlin, Draco, you sod. That was so romantic.”

“It was?” Draco said, lifting his face up and quirking an eyebrow at Harry. “I thought it was rather pathetic.”

“No, of course not,” Harry said, ducking down and kissing Draco tenderly. “I can’t believe how much thought you put into it.”

“Yes, well, your friends already talk about me enough as it is,” Draco said bitterly. “I didn’t want them to think I wasn’t capable of taking care of you.”

Harry beamed at him. “You take such good care of me,” he said, kissing Draco again.

“Don’t you forget it,” Draco said, grinning against Harry’s lips. “Now remind me again how to use the damn phone.”