#Chef Training Program

[servoschool]

Servo Hospitality School – Culinary Arts Diploma Course in Dehradun

If you have a passion for food and are looking to carve a career in the culinary arts, the Culinary Arts Diploma Course at Servo Hospitality School in Dehradun is the perfect opportunity to turn that passion into a profession. Known as one of the best hotel management colleges in Dehradun, Servo offers an extensive curriculum that combines practical cooking techniques with comprehensive kitchen management training. The school equips students with the skills needed to succeed in the fast-paced, exciting world of culinary arts.

Why Choose Servo Hospitality School for Culinary Arts?

Servo Hospitality School has earned its reputation as one of the best hotel management colleges in Dehradun, providing students with an unparalleled education in hospitality and culinary arts. The Culinary Arts Diploma Course at Servo is designed to give students both theoretical knowledge and hands-on experience, making them highly competitive in the culinary industry. Whether you aspire to work in top-tier restaurants, hotels, or catering services, Servo’s well-rounded curriculum and state-of-the-art training facilities make it an ideal choice for aspiring chefs.

Program Overview:

The Culinary Arts Diploma Course at Servo is a short-term, intensive program focused on equipping students with essential culinary skills and knowledge. With a strong emphasis on practical training, the program covers everything from basic cooking techniques to advanced culinary skills. The course is designed to ensure that students are job-ready as soon as they complete their studies.

Key areas of focus in the diploma course include:

Food Preparation and Cooking Techniques: Students are introduced to the fundamentals of cooking, including the proper use of kitchen equipment, knife skills, and cooking methods such as grilling, frying, steaming, and roasting.

International Cuisines: The program covers a wide range of international cuisines, including Continental, Chinese, and Indian. Students will learn the techniques and recipes required to prepare these diverse dishes.

Baking and Pastry Arts: Students also get the opportunity to explore the world of baking and pastry making, including the creation of breads, cakes, pastries, and desserts.

Menu Planning and Food Costing: An essential part of the curriculum is dedicated to understanding how to plan menus, calculate food costs, and manage inventory, preparing students for the business side of culinary arts.

Plating and Food Presentation: The course emphasizes the importance of food aesthetics, with training on how to beautifully plate dishes to enhance the dining experience.

Hands-On Training with State-of-the-Art Facilities:

One of the key advantages of studying at Servo is the school’s commitment to providing hands-on culinary training in professional-grade kitchens. The Culinary Arts Diploma Course in Dehradun takes students through practical lessons in fully equipped kitchens, ensuring that they are well-prepared to handle the demands of a real-world kitchen environment. The school’s state-of-the-art facilities replicate the professional atmosphere found in high-end restaurants and hotels, giving students an edge in their career preparation.

With access to industry-standard kitchen tools and equipment, students gain valuable experience in food preparation, cooking techniques, and kitchen management. This practical exposure enhances their learning experience and builds the confidence needed to succeed in any culinary setting.

Internship and Career Opportunities:

Servo Hospitality School’s strong industry connections provide students with valuable opportunities for internships and job placements. As one of the best hotel management colleges in Dehradun, Servo has built a network of top-tier hotels, restaurants, and catering companies where students can gain real-world experience through internships. These internships are an essential part of the learning process, allowing students to work in professional kitchens, hone their skills, and learn directly from industry experts.

Upon completing the Culinary Arts Diploma Course, students are ready to embark on rewarding careers in the hospitality industry. The placement support provided by Servo ensures that graduates have access to a wide range of job opportunities, from fine dining restaurants to hotels and resorts.

Why Dehradun for Culinary Arts?

Dehradun, the picturesque capital of Uttarakhand, is an emerging hub for education, including culinary arts and hotel management. The city’s growing tourism and hospitality sectors provide students with numerous opportunities to gain employment after completing their studies. Dehradun offers a peaceful yet dynamic environment, perfect for focusing on culinary education while enjoying the natural beauty of the region.

Conclusion:

The Culinary Arts Diploma Course at Servo Hospitality School is a perfect choice for anyone looking to pursue a career in the culinary arts. With comprehensive training, hands-on experience, and access to industry professionals, Servo provides an environment that fosters both creativity and skill development. As one of the best hotel management colleges in Dehradun, Servo ensures that its students are well-equipped to succeed in the ever-evolving culinary industry. Whether you're aiming to work as a chef, pastry artist, or in kitchen management, Servo’s culinary diploma program will help you reach your goals and kickstart your career in the culinary world.

For More Information - admissions@servoinstitutions.com

Visit Our Website - https://servoihm.com/

[marsuni]

actively learning how real tumblr’s vernacular is and how out of pocket it is to those unfamiliar when you say it out loud

[redrosesshadowwolf]

I just put Shepard pie and chicken pot pie together in the same bowl. Honestly not that bad together. The flavors only clash a little.

Posting this on here instead of other social media because I'm related to a chef, and someone who went through culinary school. And if they saw this I feel like I'd be disowned.

[cryinggirlnamedhelen]

For the ladies: need help picking a scenario for a woman to be in the Blue Lock facility without making them a stereotypical (Y/n)? I gotchu bbg.

SCENARIOS

note: all of the ocs/(yn)s here are all 15-19 (high school to first year of college age) depending on your preference.

1. A manager who does the same jobs as Anri but is much more involved personally with the players

- One way this could play out is someone who is a manager from another club or U20 team (ex; Bastard München) and is transferred to Blue Lock, whether it’s out of personal interest or a request from Ego. Either way, with her experience, she helps the players with ease and professional advice and also acts as a PR manager of sorts for them, and might even begin a romance with one of them.

- Another way is perhaps someone who is in desperate need of money and is willing to do anything for money. One day, she checks a sketchy website for new job offers with lots of money, and the new Blue Lock program hiring managers catches her eye. She instantly applies and gets in almost immediately, and helps out the players and Anri. She also might get into a love story with one of the players.

- Another way is someone who is an intern at the JFU (Japanese Football Union) and is assigned to work on Blue Lock with Anri, as the intern is only a teenager and Anri is a new hire and only 22 and fresh out of college. While Anri is helping out Ego more, the intern is helping out the players more while also learning more about herself, soccer, relationships, and love.

2. A nurse who checks the medical data of players and nurses them back to health during injuries or sickness.

- One way this scenario could play out is perhaps someone who is an aspiring doctor, and one way to train herself is to sign up for Blue Lock. She has enough medical knowledge to know what to do with common sicknesses like colds or fevers, and she knows how to deal with broken or fractured bones and more. She’s mostly learning how to truly have patients trust her, and she herself learns to fall in love.

- A daughter of a doctor who is called to Blue Lock, but her parent instead gives her the opportunity to help out at Blue Lock. Any plausible reason would be fine, but to not be too repetitive, I think that maybe something similar to being able to have a backup plan if she ever can’t go to college or doesn’t know what profession to chase could be a good reason for why she’s at Blue Lock.

3. A chef at the facility who is supposed to work in secret but is seen one night by a participant

- Okaaaaaaay so major Rin vibes here, but anyways she’s desperate for money so drops out of high school begins working at some random restaurant as a chef and just earns enough to barely get by. But one day, Ego visits the restaurant and hires her to cook for Blue Lock. She agrees, and she’s the one who cooks all the food at BLLK. One night, when all the players are supposed to be asleep, she sneaks out of her room to eat something, but doesn’t realize that a player from one of the wings had just finished extra training and was eating away. Let’s just say that their love story started from there.

4. An aspiring psychologist who wants to see what will happen to the mentalities and personalities of the players before and after Blue Lock

- HEAVY HEAVY HEAVY Isagi main love interest vibes here, but she’s kind of a weird person. She’s always analyzing the personalities of people because she’s so lonely and just wants to feel loved by someone. She then goes to Blue Lock out of pure interest just to see the results of the project. She accidentally sees one of the results of the elimination tag game for one of the teams, and she basically falls in love with the final eliminator then and there. She then kind of just hangs around them to see their personality, but she unknowingly becomes more and more in love with the person who she finds most psychologically interesting.

5. A former athlete who receives a career ending injury but becomes a regular spectator/mentor in Blue Lock

- So basically, she is a young athlete and is in love with whatever sport she’s playing and what’s to be the world’s best (I personally think ice skating would be perfect for this prompt…but anyways). But then one day at a competition or performance or match, she receives a career ending injury that will never heal, especially not if she keeps playing. Forced to quit and bitter about her injury, she goes to Blue Lock as a former athlete to watch a group of teenage boys try to achieve the dream that she once had, and she becomes a mentor and PR manager of sorts, giving them advice and encouragement.

[bluecollarmcandtf]

Help me! I'm hypnotized...

The loser roommate I got stuck with did something to my brain. I didn't think it was possible, but that pathetic fag somehow put me in a trance. I don't remember how: with a pendant or spiral; but it doesn't matter! What matters is that at any second he can say a trigger word, and I end up like this: smiling and flexing like a fucking idiot 'till he releases me.

Sure, I look like I'm alright, but I've been stuck in this pose for two hours. My biceps ache and my shoulders are on fire. Add to that a leg cramp that I cant walk off and you'll realize how awful this torture is.

I'd just been trying to finish an essay (his essay to be exact.) I might be on the football team, but this lazy geek is forcing me to do his homework for him! And even though he ordered me to do that, against my will, he calls me up and says my fucking trigger word! It's fucking ridiculous! I used to go out and party with my teammates on nights like this, but now I'm stuck being this dweeb's mannequin-on-command.

I just know he's going to boss me around when he finally gets here. He'll probably make me cook him dinner again. I'd spit in it if I could -hell, I'd probably poison it if I could- but I know I'll be stuck in my own body again. I hate it when he tells me to smile and serve him like a waiter. God, its humiliating...

He makes me workout during my free time, which I have a lot of now that I can't speak to any of my old buddies. I gotta say that my body's never looked better. I guess their is one upside to being under his control: whenever he tells me to train harder, I have to do it.

The gym is the one area of my life where I can at least pretend that I'm not someone's trained monkey. Still, the fact that I can't even shower without his permission is a pretty harsh reminder. Whenever I get back from a workout, my legs march straight to the table where I sit, flex, and smile while I wait for him to tell me what to do. It doesn't matter how tired or hot I am. Sometimes, he doesn't even let me shower. He just tells me to mop the sweat up with my shirt and then put it back on.

I think the nerd has a thing for sweaty jocks or something. The thought of this creep making me do all this to get his little dick hard pisses me off more than anything...

I applied for a job today. It wasn't because I wanted to. My roommate decided that he wants more spending money, so he turned to me and said that I was going to earn it for him. So it wasn't enough for me to be his personal chef, maid, and eye candy! I have to be his fucking ATM now too?!

The tie wasn't my idea either. He told me to go buy some fancy clothes to make sure I impressed my "future employer." He's such a dweeb, and now he's making me dress like a loser too.

Obviously I nailed the interview. It wasn't hard when he programmed me to say things like "I've always wanted to deliver pizzas," or "I want to be the best employee you've ever had!" He made me sound like such a kiss-ass for a stupid minimum-wage job. Even the guy interviewing me thought I was being a bit excessive! I got hired on the spot, and I'm already scheduled every night this week, because my roommate specifically made me ask for as many hours as possible.

Now that I'm done with probably the most humiliating thing I've ever done, I'm stuck flexing with a tie on 'till that asshole gets home...

I got my first paycheck after a long couple of weeks doing his classwork during the day and delivering pizzas at night. My roommate texted and told me to wait by the front door with my paycheck. Apparently, he's going out tonight with some of his loser friends and wants the cash now. I can't believe I'm about to hand it over to him.

"Hey, handsome," he calls, shutting his car door.

"I'm glad your home, sir. How was your day?"

I do not give a shit about his day! He ordered me to say that whenever he gets back. He's also programmed me to get up and hug him like I'm a fucking queer in love!

"Better now," he purrs, squeezing my butt cheek while we hug, "You should come with me and my friends tonight."

The last thing I want to do is be around him and his pansy-assed friends. "Yes, sir," I smile.

"We're going to a gay bar, and I think you would be an excellent wingman."

My stomach drops at the sound of a gay bar. I don't want to be anywhere near that place, and I really don't want the guy with total control over me parading me around that place like I'm his fucking slut! Where is this going? He wouldn't make me do anything gay, right? The terrifying truth is he could. He could order me to act like a stripper there, or...or worse. Fuck! I don't think there's anything he couldn't make me do. He could order me on my knees right now, and I'd do it with this stupid smile still plastered across my face. He could make me blow his tiny cock, and I'd be helpless to do anything other than enthusiastically suck! I don't want to go to that gay bar. I have to escape.

"Yes, sir," I hear my voice gleefully ring out.

[justlemmeadoreyou]

3. protectively watchful (restaurant owner!harry x chef!reader)

(part 1 here) | (part 2 here)

summary: you take up on the mantorship offer, but it creates more tensions and turmoil within you than were before. an incident in the kitchen makes harry go into protective mode, and you can't help but get turned on by this man more and more.

words: 4.8k

warnings: sexual tension (like A LOT), inappropriate behaviour, protective!harry.

***

"You wanted to see me, Chef?"

You gave a light knock on the open door of Harry's office, trying to sound polite and professional. It had been a few weeks since you had that talk with Harry about keeping things strictly business between you two. During that time, he had been a perfect mentor - giving you advice and guidance without any flirting or suggestive comments.

His coaching had really helped improve your cooking skills as you soaked up all his knowledge and experience. You were grateful to have a normal working relationship again, focused solely on culinary training. And yet...you couldn't ignore the faint lingering tension between you, that subtle underlying charge.

Harry looked up from the notebooks on his desk, his eyes crinkling in a warm smile when he saw you. "Ah, there you are. Come on in, have a seat."

You sat down in one of the chairs across from him as Harry neatened up the loose papers into a stack. Up close, you couldn't help noticing how well-fitted his black button-down shirt was, or how his tousled hair looked very touchable.  

Firmly reminding yourself this was just a professional meeting, you averted your eyes politely until Harry cleared his throat.

"So as you know, the big Martin gala fundraiser is coming up in a few weeks," he began, shuffling through some folders. "It's one of the biggest events of the year for underprivileged culinary education programs. I'll be preparing the featured dish for their live auction, and I'd love for you to assist me on it."

Your eyes went wide with surprise at this prestigious opportunity. The Martin gala was a hugely famous event in Chicago's culinary scene, attracting all the wealthiest and most notable diners. For an up-and-coming chef to collaborate on the centerpiece dish was an amazing honor and chance to get exposure.

"Wow, yes of course!" you replied enthusiastically. "I would be absolutely honored, Chef. Thank you for this incredible opportunity."  

Harry's dimples deepened as he smiled approvingly. "Don't thank me yet. We'll be under a huge spotlight to deliver an amazing showstopper dish. I expect you to rise to the challenge."

You quickly nodded. "You can count on me to give it my absolute best effort. I'm ready to do whatever work is needed."

"Excellent," Harry said in a slightly lower, huskier tone. "That's exactly what I like to hear."  

For a moment, his voice had a heated quality that hinted at other situations where your eagerness might be welcome. You ignored the shiver it sent through you, reminding yourself this was strictly business now between you two.

Harry seemed to realize he was skirting the line, as he abruptly straightened up and all hints of flirtation disappeared as he switched fully into mentor mode. "Right, well let me walk you through my basic vision so far..."

You leaned forward attentively as he outlined preliminary ideas for a highly ambitious and avant-garde dish blending molecular gastronomy techniques with classic French cuisine fundamentals. It was wildly cutting-edge, even for a showpiece event like the Martin gala. But the more details Harry provided, the more that same thrill of adrenaline rushed through you whenever presented with a new culinary challenge to conquer.

For the next hour, the two of you bounced ideas back and forth in that unique creative flow state that chefs share. Harry's presence was magnetic, but you refused to get distracted by more physical aspects - like the stretch of his biceps against his crisp sleeves, the hint of toned abs beneath his open collar, or the raspy timbre of his voice dipping into that lower register as he passionately discussed certain techniques.  

And oh, his damn tattoos.

No, you sternly told yourself as the conversation began wrapping up. Those days of getting flustered around him were over. Harry had made it clear where you stood, and you fully accepted those boundaries. Anything else was just self-torture.

"...but of course, those are just preliminary thoughts," Harry was saying as he collected the scattered folders into a neat pile. "We'll have plenty of time to refine the details over the next couple weeks."  

You nodded, filing away the mental notes you'd taken during the discussion. "Absolutely, Chef. Just let me know whatever you need for prep or testing different ideas to get a head start."

"Will do." With an air of finality, Harry gathered up the pile and rose from his seat. You quickly stood up as well, not wanting him to loom over you in the enclosed space. For a beat, you both hovered awkwardly, the air seeming to thicken between you.  

"Well then," Harry said, making no move to step past you towards the door. "I'd say this calls for a drink to celebrate our new collaboration, wouldn't you agree?"

Before you could reply, he turned and went to a small antique cabinet tucked in an alcove you hadn't noticed before. With a practiced hand, Harry selected a heavy glass decanter and two tumblers, placing them on the cabinet and expertly twisting off the stopper.

"Let's go with Lagavulin," he mused aloud, carefully pouring two generous glasses of the amber scotch whisky. "A good Scottish whisky seems appropriate for the occasion."  

"I really shouldn't, Chef," you said reflexively, already picturing your lightweight self getting sloppy and unprofessional after even a single drink.

But Harry just chuckled softly. "Loosen up a little. It's a celebration, after all."

He emphasized this by bringing one of the heavy tumblers over and pressing the cool glass into your hand. You frowned down at the coppery liquid, worrying your lower lip uncertainly. But before you could protest further, Harry gently clinked his glass against yours in a silent toast before taking a sizable sip.

The whisky's smoky, peaty aroma seemed to wrap around you intimately. Despite your hesitation, you couldn't help giving an appreciative inhale before taking a small, tentative sip yourself. Bold, layered flavors of vanilla, caramel, and charred oak underscored by an earthy smokiness burst over your tongue. You let out a soft sigh of indulgent pleasure at the decadent taste.

"Good, isn't it?" Harry's gravelly voice made you start slightly. He was watching you with amusement, whisky glass dangling casually from those large, handsome fingers. "It really hits you in the back of the throat, makes you slow down and savor it fully."

You suddenly realized the suggestive implication behind his phrasing and felt a flush of heat bloom across your face and chest. Harry watched the play of emotions flickering over your features with relish before taking another indulgent sip. This time, you noticed the way his full lips pursed delicately to drink, the tiny furrow of concentration between his brows as he savored the flavor before swallowing.

Unconsciously, your eyes tracked the mesmerizing flex of his throat as he swallowed, the hint of stubble grazing along his chiseled jawline. A twinge low in your abdomen accompanied the thought of feeling that scratchy burn of beard between your thighs, that talented mouth working magic elsewhere on your body.

Mortified, you shut down that wayward trail of thought through sheer willpower. Your cheeks grew even hotter as you realized Harry had caught you staring, his own gaze darkly amused.  

"Easy there," he murmured huskily, stepping a bit deeper into your personal space. "This dish is a marathon, not a sprint. Best to learn to savor every indulgent morsel along the way."

With a pointed look and arched brow, Harry raised his whisky to those plump lips once more, holding your gaze as he placed the rim against that full lower lip and let out an obscenely gratifying groan of pure delight.

Moments after, the tension had subsided, but the flush and blush that had creeped up your cheeks wasn’t going away anytime soon–you were sure of that.

***

You tried to push aside the lingering thoughts about the “Celebration” that were now implaed into your mind, and the way tiny droplets of the drink remained on his lips till he licked them off with his tongue–

You wanted that tongue to be yours.

Shaking your head, you focused on prepping the ingredients for the evening service. The dinner rush would be starting soon and you needed to have everything ready. As you worked, you were vaguely aware of the dining room filling up with patrons being seated. The sounds and aromas of the bustling kitchen surrounded you in a familiar, comforting way.

You were so engrossed in your tasks that you didn't notice the man approach until he cleared his throat loudly. Looking up, you saw a smartly-dressed diner smiling at you in a way that made you instinctively uncomfortable.

"Well, hello there," he said in a syrupy tone. "I was just admiring the delicious-looking fare over here." He raked an obvious look up and down your body. "The menu selections have my mouth watering already."

You stiffened, recognizing the overly familiar leer. This wasn't the first time you'd dealt with an obnoxious patron hitting on you. Keeping your expression neutral, you replied in a polite but firm tone. "I'm afraid you'll need to return to the dining room, sir. The kitchen is off-limits to guests."

Rather than taking the hint, the man leaned nonchalantly against your prep station. "Don't be like that, sweetheart. I was just hoping you could suggest something...special for me to sample tonight." He punctuated this with an exaggerated wink.

Suppressing a grimace, you turned away to continue your work, hoping he would give up and leave. No such luck. The lech sidled closer until he was nearly pressed against you. "What do you say? I'd love for a tasty little thing like you to--" 

"Sir, I'm going to have to ask you to leave the kitchen area immediately." Harry's firm baritone cut across the man's words like a whip crack.  

You looked up in relief to see your boss standing with arms crossed, jaw clenched as he glared at the offending patron. Even from several feet away, you could sense the potent force of his displeasure rolling off him in waves.

The diner seemed to shrink slightly under Harry's censorious scowl. "Oh, uh, my apologies. I was just trying to get some personal recommendations--"

"The kitchen is off-limits and you're making my staff uncomfortable," Harry interrupted, his tone brooking no argument. "I won't ask again. Return to your table or you'll be asked to leave the premises."

Looking sufficiently cowed, the lech swiftly retreated with some mumbled apologies. You exhaled slowly, trying to dispel the anxiety brought on by the unpleasant encounter. Harry stepped closer, his expression softening as he looked you over with concern.

"You okay? That asshole didn't go too far, did he?"

You managed a faint smile, oddly touched by the protective edge in his voice. "I'm fine, Chef. Just another boorish customer thinking the uniform is a dinner invitation."  

His jaw tightened again as he scowled in the direction the man had gone. "That type of behavior is completely unacceptable. You let me know right away if anyone hassles you like that again, understand?"

Nodding, you found yourself blinking rapidly against the unexpected prickle of grateful tears at having Harry firmly in your corner, despite the complicated dynamics between you lately.  

For a long moment, he watched you carefully as if gauging your equilibrium. Then Harry surprised you by reaching out and briefly squeezing your shoulder in a reassuring gesture. The warmth of his large hand seeped through your uniform, leaving a tingly imprint even after he pulled away.

"I've got your back, [Y/N]. You focus on doing your job and let me deal with any assholes who get out of line."

The gruff tenderness in his words made your heart do a traitorous little flip in your chest. You nodded again, not trusting your voice enough to respond properly.

With one final pointed look, Harry turned and headed back out to his front-of-house duties.  As you watched his broad-shouldered form disappear through the swinging doors of the kitchen, you felt a complicated tangle of gratitude, protectiveness, affection...and yes, a lingering undercurrent of attraction that you couldn't seem to fully extinguish despite your best efforts.

You spent the rest of the dinner service determinedly pushing aside any lingering thoughts about Harry or the earlier incident. Focusing fully on your work was the only way to get through these confusing emotions that had you all over the place..

The rhythm of prepping, plating, and coordinating with the other line cooks settled into a familiar, reassuring routine. The constant flurry of chopping, sautéing, and barked orders provided a sort of meditative escape from your muddled headspace.

By the time the last diner had been served and the kitchen was winding down for the night, you felt pleasantly drained in that satisfying way that comes from a job well done. As you began breaking down your station for cleaning, Harry emerged from his office looking satisfied.

"Excellent work tonight, everyone," he called out in that effortlessly commanding tone. "Front-of-house said the new salmon dish was a huge hit. We'll definitely want to keep that one on the seasonal menu." 

A chorus of tired but pleased murmurs went around the kitchen at the praise. Harry's eyes found yours amidst the small crowd, holding your gaze a beat longer than strictly necessary before moving on to the other cooks. You tried not to read too much into it.

With the nightly pep talk concluded, Harry rolled up the sleeves of his crisp white chef's coat, joining everyone in the evening breakdown and cleaning duties. You watched surreptitiously as he expertly broke down one of the grill stations, muscles in his broad forearms flexing enticingly with each efficient movement.  

Get a grip, you scolded yourself, quickly refocusing on scrubbing down your own prep area. This was exactly the kind of distracted, unprofessional behavior you were trying to avoid lately around Harry.

Despite your best efforts, however, you couldn't fully ignore him moving about the kitchen, checking in with each station to oversee their sanitation. At one point, he paused to examine some utensils that hadn't been properly cleaned, tsking in displeasure before batting them aside to be re-scrubbed.  

"That's never going to meet inspection," he chided the sheepish-looking young line cook in his trademark gruff tone. "Do it again, and do it properly this time. We're not running a greasy spoon here."  

As much as his uncompromising attitude could be intimidating, you also found it oddly...thrilling to witness Harry taking charge so authoritatively. Not to mention the visual of those powerful hands deftly at work was sending your thoughts in an unprofessional direction yet again.

Sternly redirecting your focus, you turned your back to give the area behind the grill station a thorough scrubbing. You were so engrossed that you nearly jumped out of your skin when Harry's low voice sounded directly in your ear.

"Everything looking good over here?" 

You whirled around to find him looming directly behind you, near enough that you could smell the spicy notes of his subtle cologne mingling with the lingering kitchen aromas clinging to him. Up this close, you couldn't help noticing how the top buttons of his coat had come undone at some point, offering a teasing glimpse of the toned chest beneath.

Trying not to stare, you quickly averted your eyes as you nodded. "Y-yes, Chef. All clean on this side."

"Hmm." His assessing gaze slowly raked over your work before returning to your flushed face. The tiniest of smirks played about his lips as if he could read the direction of your thoughts.  

"Well, then. Carry on," was all he said before turning and strolling unhurriedly back towards his office, burgundy cargo pants slung enticingly low on those lean hips.

You let out a shaky breath, mentally cursing how easily flustered you still became around this man, no matter how much you tried to enforce boundaries. Resolutely, you refocused on finishing your cleaning tasks, determined to get out of there before any more distracted lapses in professionalism.

By the time the kitchen had been scoured from top to bottom, you were one of the last few staffers remaining. Wearily peeling off your apron, you were just reaching for your bag when Harry reappeared, looking unhurried and relaxed now that the nightly duties were done.

"Heading out?" he asked as you approached, one thick eyebrow raised questioningly.

You stifled a yawn with the back of your hand. "Yeah, I'm beat. Gonna try and get some extra sleep before the morning prep shift tomorrow."

He made a noncommittal sound, falling into step beside you as you headed for the employee exit out back. For a few moments, you walked in silence, oddly aware of the warmth radiating off his body this close to yours.

When he finally spoke, it wasn't at all what you expected. "You did good with that asshole customer earlier."

Your steps faltered slightly at the praise before quickly recovering. "Oh...uh, thanks, Chef. You really didn't need to step in like that."

"The hell I didn't," he countered gruffly. There was an edge to his tone that made the tiny hairs at your nape prickle. "No one treats my staff like piece of meat, especially not in my own goddamn kitchen."

Harry shook his head in disgust at the very idea, causing a lock of mahogany hair to fall rakishly across his furrowed brow in a way that really shouldn't have been as distracting as it was.

Swallowing hard, you refocused on the matter at hand. "I've dealt with guys like that before. Just comes with the territory sometimes, y'know?"

"That doesn't make it acceptable," he insisted, mouth setting into a grim line. You found yourself unable to look away from the sharp angles of his frowning profile, chiseled jaw ticking faintly with irritation, that he tried to mask.

He fixed you with those intense pale eyes, all traces of humor gone. "No one - and I mean no one - gets to treat any of you with disrespect while I'm in charge around here. I won't stand for that shit under my roof."

The ferocity in his tone sent an involuntary shiver rippling through you, though from wariness or...something else entirely, you couldn't say. All you knew was the low, authoritative resonance of Harry's voice carried an unmistakable air of command that raised goosebumps along your arms.

Maybe it was the late hour, or the fact you were walking in such close proximity out of public view. Or hell, maybe it was just the sheer presence of this man who could flip between stern taskmaster and something rawer, more carnal in the blink of an eye.

Whatever it was, you felt that subtle spark between you ignite and suddenly, you desperately needed to be alone to process the yearning that flickered to life low in your belly. Before you could consider the impulse further, you were blurting out the first excuse that came to mind.

"Well, thanks again for that. And for the whole mentorship thing too. I, uh...I actually have some errands to run, so I'll just catch you tomorrow morning, 'kay?" 

You didn't even give Harry a chance to respond before ducking through the exit, muscles taut with confused tension. As the cool night enveloped you, you drew a deep, shuddering breath in an effort to steady yourself.

Whatever weird atmospheric flux had momentarily enveloped you back there was too dangerous, too distracting from the tenuous balance you and Harry had only just reestablished. No, it was better to put some space between you before things got muddied again.

With a fierceness born of sheer force of will, you wrestled your turbulent, wandering thoughts back under control. You were a professional, with goals to work towards. Getting pulled into Harry's electrifying orbit again would only derail you.

Still, as you hurried to your car, his shape-shifting countenance kept flashing unbidden across your memory - the dazzling smile, the brooding intensity, the simmering promise of authority barely restrained. All of it provided an infuriatingly potent combination that had your body humming with repressed longing despite yourself.

This was going to take more effort than you'd anticipated.

***

The next couple of weeks passed in a blur of grueling practice runs and preparation for the Martin gala. You and Harry spent nearly every waking hour in the kitchen, iterating endlessly on his showpiece dish concept.

With the prestigious event date rapidly approaching, any lingering awkwardness or tension between you had been shifted firmly into the background. The shared urgency of perfecting this culinary masterpiece became an all-consuming focus that left little room for anything else.

Still, that didn't stop you from noticing...things.

Like how the sleeves of Harry's whites had an endearing tendency to get shoved up his forearms in a way that displayed those tanned, sinewy muscles to distracting effect as he worked. You definitely didn't linger over the sight of his strong hands deftly wielding a knife, making precise, practiced cuts. And you absolutely did not imagine those dexterous fingers trailing across your skin instead of the cutting board.  

At least, that's what you sternly told yourself in an ongoing effort to maintain focus.

For his part, Harry was all business during these preparation sessions - issuing clipped instructions, evaluating ingredients with a critical eye, pushing both of you relentlessly to get every component just right. Only rarely did you catch hints of something more underneath that professional veneer.

Like the time you were bent over a burner, carefully spooning out the orbs of flavored olive oil onto the waiting plate. Harry stepped up behind you to examine your work, the warmth of his body radiating against your back. As he leaned in closer to inspect the delicate orbs, his low murmur caressed the fine hairs at your nape in a way that made you shiver.

"That's it...go nice and slow with a deft touch," he rumbled in that raspy timbre that never failed to send tingles shooting straight to your core.

Heart pounding, you risked a sidelong glance to find his pale eyes already locked on yours, glittering with an intensity that contrasted sharply with his deceptively neutral expression. A charged moment stretched between you as that underlying spark you'd been determinedly ignoring flared, sudden and molten. 

Just when you thought you might spontaneously combust, Harry blinked and cleared his throat brusquely. "Carry on, then," he instructed in his normal crisp tone before turning away to focus on another component. 

You stood motionless for several heartbeats, fingers clenched around the spoon, skin flushed and tingling in equal measures of arousal and disbelief. Did that really just happen or had the endless hours in the kitchen started affecting your mind?

Too skittish to ponder it further, you dove back into your tasks with even more single-minded focus, the uneasy moment shelved and locked away tight. No matter what fleeting tension arose in isolated pockets, you couldn't afford to unpack it right now - not with the enormity of what was at stake.

The days ticked down in a relentless march until finally, you and Harry stood in the solitude of his spartan office the night before the big event, taking a breather from your marathon final prep session.

An ungodly number of mise en place containers filled every available surface, each holding fussed-over components of the highly elaborate and conceptual dish that would make its debut tomorrow. Harry had pushed you both to your physical and creative limits, drilling the execution repeatedly until he was satisfied you could plate it flawlessly under the anticipated scrutiny.

Now, having quality-checked and prepped every last possible element, there was nothing further to do except rest up and bring your sharpest mental game tomorrow. Harry seemed to deflate slightly as the backdrop of mounting pressure decreased for the first time in weeks.

Propping his hip against the desk with studied nonchalance, he quirked one eyebrow in a sidelong glance. "You ready for this?"

Despite your weariness, you felt that familiar thrill of adrenaline stir at those simple words - as well as a contradictory quiver of nerves. This event was a make-or-break opportunity of the highest magnitude, especially for someone like you just starting out. Either you nailed your responsibilities tomorrow, or it all came crashing down in front of Chicago's most elite gourmands.

Shoving aside the sudden flutters of doubt, you met Harry's inscrutable gaze head-on, straightening your spine. "You know I am. We've put in the work, and this dish is gonna blow them all away."

A tiny smirk tugged at the corner of his sculpted mouth as he studied you appraisingly. "That's what I like to hear. Just remember - all the technique practice in the world won't mean a thing if you panic out there."

The subtle warning made you bristle defensively, never one to back down from a challenge. "I'm not going to panic," you scoffed. "I eat massive amounts of public pressure like this for breakfast."

Harry's eyes danced with amusement, and not for the first time, it struck you how effortlessly he could switch between imposing and playful. "Is that so?" he drawled easily. "In that case, would you care to make things a bit more interesting?"

Before you could respond, Harry kicked off from the desk in one sinuous motion to prowl closer. Despite your weariness, you felt your heart rate kick up several notches as he invaded your personal space, long body coiled with a loose, predatory grace.

"Let's say we raise the stakes a little," he proposed in a tone of studied nonchalance that was completely belied by the heated glint in his eyes boring into yours. "If you can prove you've got the chops to keep a cool head under fire tomorrow, I'll take you out afterwards to celebrate. Just you and me, anywhere you want to go."

Your mouth went instantly dry at the implications behind his offer. Were those...the unmistakable undertones of flirtation coloring his invitation? After the weeks of him keeping things strictly professional between you, the sudden shift was dizzying - and left you dangerously intrigued.

"And what if I choke?" you heard yourself countering recklessly before you could reconsider. "What do you get out of it then?"

His answering smile was pure blistering sin. "Oh, sweetheart. If that happens...I get to take you out too - but somewhere a bit more private."

Harry paused to let the suggestive proposition linger, backing it up with a slow, heated raking of his pale eyes over your body that left zero doubt as to his implication. Heat bloomed furiously across your cheeks as forbidden images flooded your mind unbidden - flashes of tangled limbs, straining muscle, sweaty exertion of a far different sort...

Then, just like that, the provoking spell was broken. Rocking back on his heels, Harry shrugged one broad shoulder in an easy, dismissive gesture. "But that's not going to happen, is it? You've got all the skills, you've put in the time - no reason to buckle tomorrow."

He threw one final weighted glance in your direction before pivoting on his heel towards the door. "Get some rest. I'll see you at the venue early to do our final walkthrough before we get this show on the road."

And with that parting comment, Harry strode casually out, leaving you rooted there in dumbfounded silence. What the hell had just happened? One moment, you'd merely been steeling yourselves for tomorrow's high stakes challenge - and then suddenly he was issuing some bizarrely flirtatious...proposition.

Or was that really what it was? As you stood there chasing replays of his words, his tone, his body language - the whole previous interaction kept taking on a slinkier, more salacious cast. Like maybe your presence of mind was slipping already, causing you to read into things that weren't really there.

No...no, you decided as you hefted your bag, determined to put it all out of your head for now. Harry was just his usual aggravating self, trying to rile you by dangling some imagined reward or punishment to keep you on your toes before the big event. This whole...suggestive semiflirtation thing was just the product of your own exhausted mind playing tricks.  

Firmly shoving aside all unsettling thoughts, you focused on the immediate challenge awaiting tomorrow. You would plate Harry's showpiece dish to absolute perfection, prove yourself under the brightest lights, and decisively seize this career-making opportunity. 

Everything else could be dealt with later.

♡~~~♡~~~♡~~~♡~~~♡~~~♡~~~♡~~~♡~~~♡~~~♡~~~♡~~~♡~~~♡~~~♡

tell me if you like this!

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[matchalovertrait]

Alegría v Caruso: Day 3, Pt. 2

"Please state your name and occupation for the record," Antonio requested.

"Mia D'Angelo-Ramirez. Michelin-starred chef and head judge of Diced Junior," the woman spoke calmly.

"What was your impression of Ms. Alegría?"

Mia smiled. "At first? I saw a younger version of myself, though not nearly as shy. She's a star. A brilliant artist. She made a name for herself."

"So, in your professional opinion and experience, has Ms. Alegría ever shown signs of struggling with originality?"

"Not once. She's quick on her feet. That's one of the reasons why she was chosen to compete in Diced Junior."

Antonio nodded. "Would someone like Ms. Alegría—who has spent years refining her skills, proving her creativity, and training at Santoro—have any reason to steal recipes?"

"No. She wouldn't need to. Even when she and another contestant both prepared soups for the second round, their dishes were still distinct. If we suspected copying, she would have been eliminated for that alone."

Antonio turned to the jury. "There you have it. Straight from one of the most respected chefs in the industry. Ms. Alegría is not a thief. She is an innovator. There is no question about her talent or whether she deserved her spot. She didn't need to steal."

Then it was Isabela's turn. "Ms. D'Angelo-Ramirez, just to clarify, you attended Santoro yourself, correct?"

"Yes, I'm an alumna."

"How many Diced Junior contestants have been accepted into Santoro over the years?"

"Not many."

"So, it's quite rare for a former contestant to be accepted into such an acclaimed program?"

"It's rare because Santoro has high standards, even higher than needed to be accepted to compete in Diced Junior. Clearly, Dulce met them."

Isabela paused, trying not to smirk. "Or maybe... she is not that skilled and had a little help?"

The people in the courtroom grew curious.

Antonio knew exactly where she was headed. "Objection. Speculation."

"Sustained," the judge asserted. "Careful, Ms. Campos."

Isabela continued, "Let's talk about Mr. Caruso, then. Ms. D'Angelo-Ramirez, as part of the Diced Junior selection process, did Mr. Caruso ever make it into the show?"

Dulce had no idea where Isabela was going with this. That's a weird question.. doesn't that go against her own client?

"No," Mia responded with caution, also noting the odd question. "He auditioned multiple times but was never selected.

A few jurors exchanged glances, some of them gasped. Auditioned several times, and he never got in?

Isabela moved forward, "And Mr. Caruso didn't need a TV show to prove himself. He got into Santoro on his own merit, didn't he?"

"I suppose so? I'm not part of the Santoro admission committee, Ms. Campos."

"And yet, Ms. Alegría—someone you publicly vouched for—was accepted into the same program as you, despite the chances."

"Objection-" Antonio began to say.

"Overruled," the judge said. "Proceed."

Isabela looked at the judge. "Your Honor, I have evidence. May I present it to the court?"

"Go ahead. But it better be relevant."

"Ms. D'Angelo-Ramirez, during filming, you told Ms. Alegría, and I quote: "I'll be watching your career closely. Don't let me down, alright? Be smart with your choices."

Mia knew it was true before Isabela played the video. She had meant for the conversation after Dulce's elimination to happen off-camera, but the producers had kept rolling and aired the footage anyway.

"I truly saw potential in Dulce. Don't twist my words," Mia argued.

Isabela turned to the jury. "All I ask is that you consider the possibility that personal connections—not talent—played a role in Dulce's admission to Santoro. Perhaps Ms. Alegría isn't as skilled as she claims. Ms. D'Angelo-Ramirez took a liking to her, after all. And she said, 'Don't let me down.' Now that Ms. Alegría is facing serious allegations, isn't it possible that Ms. D'Angelo-Ramirez is simply trying to save face?"

Fine, Isabela. Want to bring out the clips? Let's do it then.

"Your Honor, if I may, I would like to present a compilation of clips from Ms. Alegría's episode of Diced Junior."

What was this? Movie time? The judge really wished it was allowed to eat popcorn on the job. "Proceed, Mr. Romero."

A lively preteen Dulce was shown on the screen. The courtroom watched the young chef talk about her dishes in detail, share her thought processes, and maneuver around the kitchen with ease. The professionalism and precision were apparent. Many adults now can't do what the child on the television was doing.

When the video ended, Antonio turned to the jurors. "That is the same Dulce Alegría that is sitting in front of you today. Imagine everything else she accomplished in nearly a decade after his was filmed."

He continued. "Dulce Alegría is not a thief. Maybe she didn't win Diced Junior, but she has proved herself in many ways. She had a promising career, which is now suffering because of damaging lies. She lost opportunities. Doors that were once open for her were promptly shut. I ask you to hold the defendants responsible. Words have power, and today, your verdict will ensure that truth prevails. Thank you."

It was time for the jurors to deliberate.

Start from the beginning (Gen 2)

Previous | Next

[thehivemindsys]

Eddie Gluskin Headcanons because I cannot stop thinking about him and im bored

Happy holidays, I usually just am not happy during this time of year so I’m pushing down my emotions and writing angst. Enjoy. Tw: Self harm, CSA, rape, misogyny, violence, typical outlast stuff.

-Eddie hates bathing and has to be physically restrained if the doctors wish to get him clean. This is mainly due to his CSA, as Eddie was attacked a lot while he was in the shower-but it is also due to him feeling uncomfortable with being nude for long periods of time.

-Eddie hates dogs. His family had a dog that was specifically trained to bite him if he commanded it to. Eddie doesn’t own any pets, really, and believes that cats are too “feminine” for him.

-During his initial murder spree, Eddie killed around 34 people-men and women, who he all gave the definition of “bride” to. He was found not guilty by reason of insanity, and was sent to Mount Massive Asylum. For a time, he actually had a proper psychologist before he was eventually signed up for the Walrider program after he attacked the wrong guard.

-Eddie has diagnosed Schizophrenia, BPD, psychosis, and could possibly qualify for a DID diagnosis.

-Eddie could possibly qualify for DID because he has a few seperate personality states: a younger version of himself, trapped within his childhood, “The Groom,” the dominant personality states, and a version of himself that is haunted by his trauma, and rather prefers to be alone. Though it is unclear if this is DID or just due to his BPD (he does dissociate from reality quite often, though).

-Eddie’s favorite movie growing up was Sleeping Beauty, and often quotes it to the best of his memory. He believes that Prince Phillip is the perfect depiction of a devoted husband, and Aurora is the most beautiful woman in the world.

-Sketching and tailoring are his favorite hobbies. He most often draws women in goregous dresses, and has a very traditional Disney-like style to his artwork.

-Eddie believes that it is the 1950s and is incapable of perceiving the current year as it is. He writes things like computers, camcorders, and cellphones off as “advanced space-age technology.” Don’t ever ask him to operate a computer because he would have absolutely no idea how to do it.

-If Eddie could comprehend the concept of a trans person, he would for sure be a supporter-due to his psychosis and delusions, however, he couldn’t comprehend it even if he tried. He can’t even comprehend that he may be gay.

-Eddie may have targeted women before the asylum, but once he was incarcerated, he practically exclusively targeted men-even when there was a female presence in the asylum, he didn’t attack them nearly as much as he did the men.

-Eddie is actually a pretty damn good chef. He has to be, considering his only qualification for a good “wife” is that “she” has to be alive and breathing. (Even then…)

-Eddie has a love for salted caramels.

-Eddie has a hard time keeping his anger in check, and rarely keeps his hands to himself. He was transferred to an isolation cell after he groped a guard, and he was never really allowed out of maximum security afterwards. This, plus other forms of inhumane treatment at the hands of Murkoff, eventually led to his mental health getting worse and his transfer to the Walrider program once it was deemed that he was “too far gone.”

-Eddie may be a charasmatic, boisterous man but deep down, he is suffering from crippling lonliness and deep seated insecurities that will likely never fully go away.

-Eddie did self harm before he was transferred to Mount Massive.

-Eddie’s best friend in the asylum is Frank Manera canonically, but he does have a rather good relationship with many of the Variants, including The Twins and Chris Walker. He and Frank used to have cells right next to one another, and communicated through a hole in the wall.

[yacuam-fanarts]

Day 30: Future AU / Next Generation

Don't take this too seriously, it was the last day and I didn't know what to do.

Complete information under cut ⬇️

~ 12 years later since the last episode of season 4:

Leonardo follows his father's steps and becomes the sensei of the Hamato Clan. The dojo is now open for anyone, mutant or not, who want to become a ninja and is willing to protect the inocent and use what they've learned for good. He also still teaching April when she has time after college so she can become a more experienced kunoichi.

Sometimes he likes to meditate in the forest and comunicate with Splinter spiritually.

Raphael becomes a night vigilante to stop the regular criminals that are always running the streets but nobody notices. It's what he always wanted to do. He says he likes to work alone but sometimes he miss when him and his brothers stopped the bad guys together, now they still do but not as often, so he spends most of the time training or hanging out with Mona Lisa when she's on earth, and sometimes joins the Mutanimals to patrol the city. He's also training Chompy so now that he's bigger he knows how to defend himself and others if they run into trouble.

He's trying yo find new hobbies, he discovered that he likes to draw pigeons and helps him calm down.

Donatello works part time as a scientist for the Utrom Council, but he also has his own proyects like rebuilding Metalhead's body and try to perfection the retromutagen so he can bring Timothy back to his human form. That aside from the many gadgets he plans to build.

He barely has any free time now but he does what he can to spend more time with his brothers and friends.

Michelangelo was a bit lost for a couple of years, he didn't know what to do since they defeated Shredder so he would just hang around with Mondo and the Mutanimals or go skateboard.

But when he remembered how much he liked cooking he decided to become a real chef, after being rejected for every other restaurant in New York he asked Murakami San to let him work at his restaurant, Murakami happily accepted and teached him all that he knew about cooking. Later Mikey decided to make his own cooking program with Icecream Kitty and it got very popular, especially between mutants. Because of this, Murakami's restaurant ended up getting so many new clients but it was pretty clear that Icecream Kitty was the star of the show.

@12yearsoftmnt2012

[royalchildreneurope]

Prince Gabriel of Belgium at the Saint-Cyr Military Academy (AMSCC) where he is undergoing a five-month training program at the academy, at the Coëtquidan military camp in Guer, France -December 9th 2024.

📷 : Académie militaire de Saint-Cyr Coëtquidan - Sergent-Chef Guillaume MUKENDI/armée de Terre/Défense.

[grits-galraisedinthesouth]

My running list of Questions for MeGain's so-called Friends:

Q-Who wears a wardrobe to match the pantry props in a rented kitchen?

Q-Who resembles Cardi B?

Q-After YEARS of reading "constructive criticism" about her ridiculous ree-coat-a on toast, who refused to learn how to use a knife?

Q-Who lied about her height?

Q-Who chose to wear this color green for in-law Christening photos?

Q-Who cooks like this?

Q-What are you doing Abigail?

Q-Why does your friend insist on posing like she's the star of a horror flick?

Q-What does this look say?

Q-Does it seem right that your friend was paid to merch the identities of her pets & children for megflix?

Q-Why does she stage other people's children to like her?

Q- Would you purchase a half baked doughnut?

Q-Would you purchase foccacia that looks like a brick instead of a sponge?

Q-Can you all see what we see->a copycat🧐

Q-Why is this photo considered a tribute to a pet when no one can even see his face?

Q-Also, why do you repeatedly allow your "friend" to wear unflattering dresses & shoes?

MM rarely had any comments on her Instagram and at that time her comments were always turned "on." She was also known to purchase followers.

Q-Jamie:

were you one of her few followers while she worked as a soap opera actress who was nearly married to a Chef named Cory?

did you even hear about her blog or Instagram when she was sleeping with Chef Cory?

Have you taken time to read the archived posts?

Are you aware that she was cheating on Chef Cory while stalking Sparry?

If you weren't "cheering" her on then, why now?

Eight (8) years have passed since viewers and producers rejected dozens of Meghan Markle's culinary screen tests.

Q-What culinary achievements occurred for the soap opera actress from 2014 to 2025 that would suddenly qualify her as TALENT for ANY culinary or celebrity related shows?

she traded in her romantic partnership with a trained Chef for an unemployable spare prince

she traded in her career as a D-list soap opera actress for seventy-two (72) "working" days in a family run enterprise

when it became too difficult, she quit the family enterprise, exactly five (5) years ago

So Jamie (and other so-called friends), please enlighten us on her five (5) years of culinary accomplishments that suddenly make her personality & talents endearing to those same producers & viewers who previously found her meh, blah &/or unlikeable?

did she secretly attend and graduate from a food science or culinary arts academic program?

did she live on a working farm?

did she secretly launch and run a culinary business?

did she secretly operate an ice cream truck?

Jamie, you were enlisted by NOprah to be her mentor, but you didn't do your homework. You are blithely unaware of who she was BEFORE the BRF, and you are certainly misguided and misinformed about those 72 days in the BRF.

All the magic of television cannot deliver her from a narcissistic personality disorder. You too will learn the hard way: "walk with the wise and grow wise, but a companion of fools suffers harm."

[ehh-is-the-name]

reposting this from Pinterest 'cause it makes me ill.

This dynamic makes me AOUGHHH. I will say after the show ended I haven't thought too much about them, aside from the passing "thank fuck they're free," but I feel like this isn't quite it.

As an angst lover, tearing these too apart would be, a chef's estranged kiss, but as I break down what 3gs is saying here. I just can't help but feel like it wouldn't stay like this. At some point, maybe between learning what Mephone has done and everything, 3gs might feel this way. The anger of being forever in the mental shadow of someone who could be considered worse than you is real...They're both technically pretty fuckin bad now that think about it. One aided in colonizing and destabilising a whole society and the other created and traumatized like 30 people. Both are pretty bad.

I love this and hate this dynamic for them- I love the meeple plot point so much you don't understand oh my fuckign god

Text from img under the cut:

As I delve deeper into your activities, I realize more and more how immersed you are in your grief. I feel anger towards you, because you had the opportunity to be saved, unlike me. Fear is the only thing I live by. I am the consequence of a deep fear of mistakes, I erased my sanity for the sake of your existence. You are the logical outcome of my sacrifices. You and I are alike. Both shells with an artificial soul, our emotions and feelings are not caused by chemical reactions of the mind, but are predetermined by a built-up program inside us. We are the product of experiments conducted by Meeple organization under the leadership of Steve Cobs. Our creation is aimed at ensuring his future and success. But the perfection of our creator is limitless, he will never be able to admit to himself that he is weak. Easily get influenced by your fears, your hatred. Steve Cobs is afraid to look at me after my failure, because my failure is his burden. He was responsible for ensuring my capabilities, he trained me and guided me into action. But I failed and felt the disappointment of Cobs. Looking at me, our creator comes up with the idea that he is not perfect, because he left me to suffer mental anguish in the dark places of his office. I literally became the embodiment of his nightmares. But you are a gift from heaven, a godlike creation. Your capabilities are equal to the higher powers. Steve Cobs is obsessed with the fact of your existence, he feeds on everything you live on. You are perfect, truly perfect with your embedded qualities. You have directed your gift to compensate for your emptiness, and your emptiness is due to your stay in Meeple. There you realized what it feels like to think that your existence is meant for the well-being of your creator, you are just a goal, a thing and a machine. All conscious Meeple products have survived this devaluation of their own importance. Everyone had to put up with it, except you. You've got the same rotten fate that guided Steve Cobs. You created people, conscious people, and cursed their lives for years to come. They didn't even know that you were the cause of their troubles. You condemned them to torture in order for them to fulfill the purpose of playing the role of participants in your show, which you organized to prove to Cobs that you are something more than just a machine. You continued the activities of your tormentor, completely copying his behavior. You... you selfish asshole have never been able to comprehend the full weight of the damage done to your own reality. You and I are both doomed, but I am doomed because my mental integrity was destroyed not by my will. And you are a careless infantile and a victim of your own troubles, you are to blame for your moral ruin. It is sad to see that you will never, again, never be able to rely on reality, you disgusts me. You are driven by fear, just like your creator.

[mysteryshoptls]

SR Jack Howl - Apprentice Chef Vignette

"Master Chef"

[Kitchen]

Master Chef ― Jack Version ～Let's Make Macaron 1～

Ghost Chef: Alright, so let's get started on making macarons. Are you ready, Jack-kun?

Jack: Yessir! Ready to go!

Ghost Chef: First, we make the meringue. Chilled egg whites give a more consistent foam, you see. We'll want to work quickly.

Jack: Right. Do I use the eggshells to separate the egg whites from the yolk? I see that done on TV a lot.

Ghost Chef: That's one way to do it, but… This time we'll just crack the eggs into a bowl and remove the yolk with a ladle, just to be safe.

Ghost Chef: If the yolk mixes in with the egg whites, then the meringue won't be able to foam up. Do your best to not break the yolk sac.

Jack: Can't break them… right. So I gotta work fast and delicately.

[tap, tap… crack]

Jack: Nice, a clean break. Next, I'll use the ladle and pull out the egg yolk into a different bowl…

Jack: …

Ghost Chef: Wh-What a scary face… But that just shows how much he's trying to focus. I'll just stay silent watch over him.

Jack: Whew… Somehow I got the yolk out without breaking it. Next I just have to turn the egg whites into foam, right?

Ghost Chef: Yup. Be careful, though, because if you don't get it foamy enough, the batter won't puff up properly when you bake it.

Jack: If it doesn't puff up, then it won't make that little round shape… So this is super important to take care of.

Ghost Chef: Correct! Alright then, use that whisk and whip it up good. Make sure to add granulated sugar as needed, too.

Jack: …It's really starting to get some stiff peaks. Chef, is this good enough for the meringue?

Ghost Chef: Yup, looks perfect for making macarons. Next, we'll start the macaronage process.

Jack: Macronage? That's the first time I've ever heard that word…

Ghost Chef: We'll sieve the ground almonds and powdered sugar together into the meringue, while folding in the peaks.

Jack: We're just gonna destroy the foam after going through all that whisking? Making pastries is weird…

Ghost Chef: If we were making something soft like a cake, then we wouldn't ruin the foam.

Jack: Oh, I see, it depends on what's being made.

Ghost Chef: That being said, I'm not saying we're going to completely ruin it, so be a little gentle. Next, add in about a third of the flour.

Jack: So, to fold in the foam… I guess the best way would be to mix it from the outside in.

Jack: I have to watch my strength, too… Urgh, this really take a lot of focus… But I think the meringue is slowly stiffening up.

Ghost Chef: You're doing great. Now add in the rest of the flour until the batter can stretch out into ribbons.

Jack: Got it. Carefully… Carefully… Don't put too much strength into it…

Jack: Whenever I pull up on the batter, it just falls in globs back into the bow. Guess it's not ready yet.

Jack: Just a little more… But I gotta make sure I don't overdo it…

Jack: …

Ghost Chef: Jack-kun has another scary look on his face… I guess he just gets a mean mug when he's focusing.

Jack: …Whew, I finally finished squeezing out the shells. They look about the same size.

Jack: Chef, we have to leave them to dry now, right?

Ghost Chef: Yup. You looked like you were really working hard there… Are you tired at all?

Jack: This is nothing. I'm always working out, so.

[Kitchen]

Master Chef ― Jack Version ～Let's Make Macaron 2～

Jack: Great, the white chocolate ganache is done too. Now I just gotta wait for the shells to finish baking.

Ghost Chef: You wanted to take this class so you could make meals that would help with your training regimen, right?

Ghost Chef: Was it disappointing to learn it was going to be a sweets-making program this time around?

Jack: …Honestly, it was.

Jack: But that didn't mean I was going to slack in any class I choose to take.

Jack: And I bet once I learn how to make other kinds of sweets, it'll come in handy for all sorts of things…

Jack: Nothing's lost by learning stuff. Since I signed up for this, I'm going to throw my all into it.

Ghost Chef: You're such a diligent kid… Just from the way you carry yourself, I know you'll take this class seriously!

Ghost Chef: Oh, you know. We have some time, so why don't I teach you some recipes of sweets with protein in them?

Jack: Really? I'd really appreciate that!

Jack: Looks like the macaron shells are done baking. I sure hope they came out good…

Jack: …Most of them all have cracks running through them. What went wrong?

Ghost Chef: It could have been any number of things; maybe the meringue wasn't whisked enough, or there wasn't the right amount of macaronage, or the shells didn't dry long enough…

Ghost Chef: The amount of time the oven had preheated, as well as the temperature of the oven could have affected it as well.

Jack: There's really that many ways it could have gone wrong!?

Ghost Chef: Macarons are a pretty tricky pastry to make, you know. You just have to make them over and over again to learn how to make them right.

Jack: So failure's just a part of the experience, huh. I'll make sure I do it better next time.

Ghost Chef: That's the spirit! But first, we need to finish up this ordered batch.

Jack: Right. This one is too large because I gripped the piping bag too strong… This one just looks terrible.

Jack: Relative to the others, I think the only ones that were actually cooked through and we can use is this one… and this one?

Jack: So then I pipe the white chocolate ganache filling onto one of the shells…

Jack: And I take another macaron shell and sandwich the ganache…

Ghost Chef: Aah, there goes that intense look again!

[Cafeteria – Judging Venue]

Ace: Gah, you're telling me Jack made my order of macarons!?

Jack: You're telling me that Ace of all people is my judge? Looks like I got saddled with an annoying one.

Ace: Totally can't see you making macarons. That's super hilarious.

Jack: Tch, you think you're so funny. Here, have your macarons. Hurry and eat up.

Ace: Woah! These have so many cracks they're falling apart! Are they really macarons!?

Ace: Out of today's possible dishes, this was what I wanted the most, but… Did I make a mistake choosing this…?

Jack: Grr… The way he's saying it pisses me off, but I can't really deny how it looks…

Ace: Well, whatever, guess I'll eat it… Hm? Y'know, one of these actually looks okay.

Jack: Most of them were pretty well cracked… I tried to assemble the ones that still looked okay relative to the others.

Ace: Uh-huh. Then I guess I'll start with this one.

Ace: [chew, chew]… Hm? Oh? It's actually not bad.

Jack: Yeah, yeah… Wait, did you just say it's not bad?

Ace: The pastry is pretty crisp, and the cream sandwiched inside is pretty smooth… I mean, it tastes like I'd expect a macaron to taste, I guess?

Ace: I guess when it comes to this one, you're on the right track? Although you did have to go through way too many macarons to get one success.

Jack: You just gotta say it in an annoying way, huh… But that means I pass, right?

Ghost Chef: Good job. This is the result of all your hard work, Jack-kun!

Jack: Thanks, sir.

Ace: So what's with you looking all happy about that? I'm tellin' ya, only one of them is good.

Jack: I know. But I know what I need to do. I'll make better ones next time.

Jack: I'll definitely make some perfect macarons before I finish this Master Chef course!

Requested by @sakurakudo.

[fanellifest]

Who Was Joe Fanelli?

The Joe-verview

Joe Fanelli (c. April 12, 1954 – June 3, 1993) was an American from Franklin, Massachusetts; an ex-boyfriend of Freddie’s; later, his very dear friend; later still, his nurse/caregiver.

Joe and Freddie met in 1978, and their relationship lasted until they broke up some time in 1979. Afterwards, Joe continued to live in the UK—working as a professional chef in several London restaurants, including September and Provan’s—with his residency arrangements as a non-UK Citizen (likely via a work visa) being secured in effort by Freddie himself.

Likely stemming from the stressful nature of his relationship with Freddie—which included uprooting his entire life to a foreign country—and also the prevalence of drinking in the culture of professional chefs, Joe developed an alcohol dependency as a coping mechanism. According to Peter Freestone, by the time Joe had been hired full time to reside in Garden Lodge in 1985, he had gotten sober and sought new solace in regularly going to the gym. He also was “a dedicated vegan” as written by Brian in Queen in 3-D.

Consider this the Hot Girl Comeback that follows the Bad Bitch Fumble.

In addition to his professional culinary training and workout habits, Joe also found a hobby in computers, teaching himself how they worked, how to write programs (including coding a version of Countdown which could be played at home), and familiarizing himself with the internet during his efforts to research HIV/AIDS information.

Said research was of particular importance as Joe, along with Peter Freestone, became one of Freddie’s caregivers all the while dealing with his own HIV/AIDS diagnosis.

With regards to personality, Joe is described by Peter Freestone as “highly intelligent,” having “a positive nature,” and “prepared to argue anything, stand up for whatever.” Jim Hutton wrote in Mercury and Me that Joe had “a cautious approach to people and life,” and recalled the following event which possibly provides insight to the dynamics of Freddie and Joe’s working relationship/friendship, and definitely gets a laugh:

Joe was standing by the sink in the kitchen and Freddie was sitting at the table looking very stern. ‘And you’re fired, too!’ Freddie snapped at me. ‘Pardon?’ I said. ‘You can’t sack Jim,’ Joe told Freddie with a gloriously smug expression. ‘Why not?’ he snapped. ‘Because he doesn’t work for you!’ he said. ‘Oh, no he doesn’t, does he?’ Freddie replied.

There are several anecdotes about or involving Joe in many of the published memoirs written by those close to Freddie, and we’ll hopefully be able to share some of those here soon.

More in-depth posts about many of these topics—Joe’s relationship with Freddie, his job with Queen on tour, his role at Garden Lodge—will be coming with more specifics!

It says a lot regarding Joe’s character, about the type of person he was, to make several life changes and to also reconnect with an ex after a less-than-ideal falling out, repairing a friendship that lasted the remainder of their lives. As one of the lesser-known people in Freddie’s orbit, we hope this post helped you get to know Joe Fanelli a bit better.

What is remembered lives.

[bluecollarmcandtf]

Meet the Kitchen Kens!

That's right! Your favorite life-sized playthings are available in packs of two now! That means you can get two Kens for the price of one, and boy are these guys worth the money!

Are you tired of slaving away in the kitchen all night just to end up with a mediocre meal? Do you wish you had one big strong man to cook you the finest dinners and another to clean up the mess? Well, look no further than Chef Ken and Dishwasher Alan! We promise these guys will meet your every need in the kitchen, and they'll do it all with a smile on their handsome faces.

These men belong in the kitchen. Ken knows his place is at the stovetop, spatula in hand, and Alan will always be waiting at the sink with a sponge and a can-do attitude. It doesn't matter if it's a midnight snack or a midmorning brunch, they'll be primed and ready for your order. The knowledge of several five-star chefs has been programmed into Ken's head, and Alan is trained to scrub your dishes until you can see your face sparkling in its reflection!

Buy Ken and Alan now! You'll never find two men more dedicated to serving you in the kitchen, but stayed tuned...

This is just the first set in our new line of Ken and Alan combos. Get ready for these pals to take on even more fun and useful careers...