#unluckydecimo

♋  my muse fixing your muse something to eat

"Tch,” Toshiro spat, eyes furrowed more than usual, a clear look of irritation on his face. He took what was left in the pan and dumped it into the sink, a filter leaving behind the ashes of once edible food. Using a hand to fan away the puff of smoke that had formed, he furiously clicked at his laptop to reread the instructions he’d found online.

Thinking back to his childhood, living an isolated, sheltered life left him little to do but help around the house where he could. Cleaning and tending to the garden was one thing, but cooking was an entirely different matter. Why should there be creative liberties? Recipes listed and called for exact measurements of ingredients, time, and order for a reason, right?

A low, frustrated grumble escaped his mouth as he glanced at the screen once more.

Four cups of bread crumbs? Check.

Two tablespoons of flour? Check.

Two eggs? Check.

So why the hell wasn’t this turning out like the pictures?

Sighing, Toshiro carefully breaded the chicken again, following each word to a tee. He placed them back onto the skillet and cooking each side for two minutes before stuffing the chicken breasts in the oven.

By the time he got around to washing his hands, there was a subtle knock on the door. The white-haired male swung it open to see Tsuna, wearing the trademark grin he’d come to envy about the guy. He stepped aside to let him in, offering a quick, “You can just wait in the living room. It shouldn’t take long.”

Moving back to the kitchen, Toshiro took the chicken out and plated each over two plates of pasta that had been sitting there for some time in light of his constant mistakes. Still, they weren’t burnt this time around, and seemed more edible than his previous efforts. He exhaled deeply, saying a momentary prayer before heading out to where his guest was sitting and placing the dish on the table.

Now here was someone who seemed to have just about as much, if not more, internal struggle than he did. But what set them apart, was that Tsuna seemed genuinely concerned with righting these wrongs, or at least putting in his best effort. 

Doling out advice was what he did on the rare occasion that someone asked for his help. Though, most of the time, he played support in the background anyways. But this seemed like an offhand way for asking for advice, or at least an opinion. So he indulged the other. 

Sagely plopped on a plush seat, Dwyer’s head lolled back as he looked blankly at the ceiling. 

😏 for a snarky text

[text]: I don’t see anything wrong with being… vertically challenged. I’m sure you’d know just as well as I would.

😞 for an anxious text

[text]: Hey.

[text]: Say I put paper in the microwave and it started burning. I threw some water in there to put it out, but it ended up setting off the alarms.

[text]: There’s no fine for that, right?

[text]: Hello?

😵 for an exhausted text

“Ah, but you miscalculated the number of fucks I’ve left to give.” 

Gazing off into the distance, he breathed in deeply before slowly exhaling. “If the earth wants to crumble around me and swallow this city whole, then so be it.” 

non-romantic fluff starters// not accepting

“I must tell you now, I am horrible at games.” The statement is not a lie; growing up, Armin hardly played video games. For the blond, he always came in last place in racing games and never made it past the first area in role-playing games. He tried to follow the icons on the screen that alerted him to where he was supposed to go, though he often ended up going in circles. Gaming is not his forte, and he’s sure that fact will never change. Now sitting in front of a television with Mario Kart 8 in brilliant aqua font, he’s not sure what to make of the current situation. He did make the point that he was no good at games, right?

[song] - Five songs your character is listening to right now.

It has begun- by starset.

world so cold- by 12 stones

Sarcasm- by get scared

The good left undone- by Rise against 

fifty totally random character development questions || Not Accepting

24. When forced to do a group project with other people, what role do they usually play?