08-06-2018, 06:56 AM
Bruised, battered, a bit mangled, still insanely salty... was this time for a cookie? Naturally, he'd say no but curiosity got the better of him. He could smell the scent of biscuits, muffins and cupcakes, reminding him of home. Except home was no more and Bakugou hadn't even dared attempted to try and use a knife to 'cook' anything. Hell, he didn't even think cooking was a thing except for char-grilling a fish he'd caught or something. Nevertheless, Bakugou approached like every other pirate whose nose steered them like the sails of a ship, blinking and observing the assortment of treats laid out before their eyes. He doesn't stop to acknowledge Tokoyami who grabbed a blueberry muffin, nor does he stop to look at Beatrice who is asking Goldenluxury a question he genuinely wants to know the answer to. Pah, to think he was at least mildly interested in baking! What a joke, he'd claim, a disastrous sense of humour! But this time, he wasn't quite lying to himself when he displayed a strange sense of interest towards the activity, craning his ears towards the baker when she answers the question.
Taught by Jacob. That meant nothing to Bakugou unfortunately. If he ever wishes to pursue baking, he'd have to do so by himself...preferably in secret. He picks up sugar cookie and accidentally burns it in his mouth. All he tastes is ash. He's forgotten that his tongue is usually coated in fire, coated to a point that if he so much as bitterly spat his words that embers would come spluttering out into the sand. It meant anything he ate would be sizzling and cooking away in his mouth whilst he chewed, swallowing cooked meat according to how he chewed. Most days, it was medium rare, but the sugar cookie was quick to combust in his his maw leaving a foul taste. He scrunches his face, a little disappointed but almost relieved it wasn't as extremely sweet as he'd thought it'd be. "Y'should try makin' somethin' spicy." He'd prefer that over cupcakes any day.
Taught by Jacob. That meant nothing to Bakugou unfortunately. If he ever wishes to pursue baking, he'd have to do so by himself...preferably in secret. He picks up sugar cookie and accidentally burns it in his mouth. All he tastes is ash. He's forgotten that his tongue is usually coated in fire, coated to a point that if he so much as bitterly spat his words that embers would come spluttering out into the sand. It meant anything he ate would be sizzling and cooking away in his mouth whilst he chewed, swallowing cooked meat according to how he chewed. Most days, it was medium rare, but the sugar cookie was quick to combust in his his maw leaving a foul taste. He scrunches his face, a little disappointed but almost relieved it wasn't as extremely sweet as he'd thought it'd be. "Y'should try makin' somethin' spicy." He'd prefer that over cupcakes any day.