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nanamis-bigtie · 6 months ago

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morning after

↬ nanami kento, higuruma hiromi, kusakabe atsuya & gender neutral reader ↬ jjk masterlist // ao3 version

a/n: debuting post for the monday afterhours, yay! i'm really excited to start, especially with the topic that's been at the back of my head for a while. i love casual intimacy and i love giving touch starved men the oh moment of their life cw: suggestive themes, implied bottom reader word count: 2.3k

nanami

Nanami is not used to noise and smells in the kitchen so early in the morning. Such disruption of his routine would bother his mood under other circumstances—but now, with the soft sound of your bare feet at the other side of his apartment, it feels only right. Familiar, he would even say, despite the atmosphere of a special occasion lingering in the air.

When was the last time he made breakfast from scratch, he wonders when the door of his bathroom closes behind you. Normally, he would be still asleep at this hour; his alarm would go off in thirty minutes, he would take a necessarily short and cool shower, check emails in case of an emergency, and then head to the 7/11 on the corner, to eat a humble meal of a pre-made sandwich and a cup of coffee from the machine, maybe an onigiri too, if he felt particularly greedy. Today, he barely slept and rose with a crack of the dawn—yet he felt the most relaxed since what seems to be ages to him. He still had the taste of you lingering on his tongue after the night, and decided to savor it until the flavor of cooking he had to test on the way would eventually wash it away. Scratched marks on his shoulders and back stung when he leaned to check what he had in the fridge. His hips, unlearned of moves he had been using on you since you had devoured the takeaway dinner together, ached as he tiptoed to reach the rice cooker, left dusty on one of the highest shelves. His eyes kept the afterimage of your blissed out face over the selection of vegetables and spices he chose for this meal.

When was the last time he was so peaceful?

Nanami finishes cutting the fresh cucumber and tsukemono, pours water into mugs with instant miso soup inside, and finally checks on the rice. It's warm and fluffy, just waiting to be put into the bowls he prepared—the cutest he had, with a long-tailed tit pattern. He brought them from Hokkaido and didn't use them even once, until he spotted them today and decided you would love them.

Rice has to wait; he can't let it grow cold like the sheets you two left behind are undeniably growing. First, he checks on the piece of salmon—a luxury that waited for a day when he could cook again—getting ready in the oven, then cracks a few eggs and beats them well with a pinch of salt and pepper. His stomach growls when they hiss on the red-hot pan—and he can't help but wonder if you're as hungry as him. Things you had in your mouth through the night couldn't feed you, as your corny, vulgar jokes suggested. Nanami rarely smiles but the memory of them and the startled look you gave him as you worried if you hadn't been too much for him has him grinning for a short moment.

When was the last time he felt strain in the corners of his lips?

The omelet is ready in no time. Nanami knows how you like your eggs, but he can't remember how and when he learned about it. He's sipped many details like this from your lips, through the whole year of waiting for the day you crossed the threshold of his bedroom. He was feeding on crumbs for so long... Being full out of the sudden fills his heart with content and anxiety at the same time. He wants to savor this moment, afraid to stomp on the thin shell of happiness too strong, but he knows he's already too addicted to stop. Whatever happens, happens.

And the food can wait only as long. He can't feed you a cold meal.

The hum of the shower ceases shortly after he takes the salmon out of the oven. Nanami listens to the commotion in the bathroom while he finishes the last cuts. Bowls are filled with steaming rice, plates and mugs find their right place on the table. He hasn't cleaned the kitchen—but even if he could do it quickly before you join him, he can't bring himself to disturb this disarray. It looks—it feels—so good to have his place messy at least once, at least today, at least for the first hour you spend together after the night of passionate lovemaking.

His hands still remember the shape of your hips, he realizes when you appear at the entrance, fresh yet still sleepy—and smiling bright at the sight of him by the table.

Nanami doesn't want to ever forget it.

higuruma

Out of the first mornings Higuruma experienced, this one is not the most...extraordinary. But he definitely would place it somewhere at the top of the list.

Seated on the edge of the bathtub, head leaned down, he still feels drowsy. The night was deliciously long and so worth the lingering fatigue in his muscles. He hasn't worked that hard in a while—well, physically at least—and he's undeniably going to pay the price with the top soreness of the last decade. He's more than okay with it...as long as you're not going to ask him for the repetition within the next few days. He's crazy for you—but he's not twenty anymore, and his job squeezes much more energy from him than he would have sacrificed, if he had any choice in this matter.

Speaking of squeezing—he barely managed to find time to bring you home, for dinner and a movie you didn't even start watching, hungry for something else than a story. And he did so only by nipping time off somewhere else—and by paying the carrying charge now, in his bathroom, awaiting the blind judgment of your skill...or the lack of it, to be honest. He has no idea if you've ever done a haircut before.

But you seem at least familiar with it enough to know how to hold and turn the hair clipper around. Higuruma watches you from the corner of his eye: you're right behind him, scrunching your nose as you're studying the shape of the device and options the various buttons provided. Bare-chested, wearing your pajama shorts only, you secure the towel wrapped around your head with the other hand. It's on the verge of falling apart, some of your hair already got out. He feels an urge to get up and help you tuck it where it should stay but just thinking about feeling it pushes blood where he really doesn't want it, if he wants to leave for work on time. He had his share of touch a few hours ago, stroking and playing with your locks as you had your sweet lips wrapped around his cock.

He's ruined the position when trying to take a better look, so you gently nudge him to lean fully again, a brush of your warm palm enough to have hair on his forearms standing. He had your hands all over him for hours, pulling him close, securing him next to you when you both finally collapsed into well-deserved sleep, so he could swear he's learned your touch enough.

But now...it's different.

You run fingers through the hair at the back of his head, testing the line you want to cut—and Higuruma is melting. He has to clench hands on the edge of the bathtub to stay collected; the last thing he wants is to get scolded and deprived of your digits slowly threading through his locks. You mumble something about being jealous of how thick they are and something about how badly he needs this cut—but all he can think of is how your voice is so raspy after moaning out his name over and over again. He wonders how your mewls would sound with this tone but thoughts evaporate from his head as soon as they've appeared, this time with the steady buzz of the clipper.

So the sound can be ticklish, such a weird sensation...

You're quick and as precise as only you can be at six in the morning, scrunched over his back in a rather tight space. You cut his hair just enough to keep him somewhat tidy for the few days before he can see an actual hair stylist; there's no time for more and Higuruma doesn't want to make it too much of a struggle for you. Even if it was his own request, he immediately regrets it when you're finished with brushing the cut dust off his neck and shoulders. It's such a pity you have to abandon him and rush with your own preparations. If only you had more time...

Right as he's straightening his back, you touch him with both hands, fingertips scratching lightly at the freshly shaved part of his head, right at the point where it meets his neck. Warmth explodes in his chest—and Higuruma lets out a low, needy growl. It's good, so good, oh gods, just touch him more, just do it one more time, he hasn't had anything like this for so long...

Humming, you move towards the longer strands, then down the sides of his face until you're cradling it between your palms. You tilt his head back and pull him close, until he rests it against your exposed, warm belly. Dry sob shakes his whole body and tears prick at the corners of his eyes—but Higuruma can't bring himself to close them or at least to look away. He's begging for your attention like starved and he's not ashamed.

All he wants is for you to never let go of him.

kusakabe

Holy shit.

Kusakabe didn't get a wink of sleep through the whole night—and the fact that he doesn't have anything to do for the day to come doesn't help the case. He always had problems with falling asleep after sex, but he thought the long break since the last time and, well, the overall busy period in his life would crumble this irritating habit by sheer force of exhaustion. He's as good at taking an accurate measure when it comes to love as he is with dozing off, it seems.

You're sprawled by his side, lying face down and on his arm, butt-naked with the exception of the blanket loosely wrapped around your leg and covering half of your ass. You've taken his share of sleep since you collapsed as soon as he rolled to his side and reached for wipes to clean you both, much to his amusement—and horror once he realized he was sentenced to his thoughts alone for the hours to come. Your smell, soft, twangy breathing, and warmth is just helping them race now. Your weight, pressed tight from his wrist to shoulder, keeps him in place too, cutting any attempt of shameful retreat short. It's nothing he wouldn't be able to move, he's carried you around not once and not twice and it meant nothing to his strength, but he dreads to wake you up.

You deserve that rest after taking his pent up tension over and over again. And he really has no idea what to say to sound appropriate.

Good morning? Good job? Did you sleep well? I love you?

Kusakabe groans and does another trip around the room with his eyes only. The more light sips through the loosely drawn curtains, the more details he could pick up, and shame already pricks at his cheeks. He couldn't remember the last time he cleaned around properly but even if he had it squeaky clean for the night, the area just screamed: a confirmed bachelor. Well, at least there's no trash lying on the floor or furniture, but he could easily pick up the smell of cigarettes and a badly aired room. None of it mattered when you tussled in darkness, sucking sloppy kisses from each other's lips and peeling clothes off your bodies. But once you wake up and take a look around—Nope, he doesn't want to think about it. That's a problem for Kusakabe from in-a-few-hours-future.

He rolls head to the other side, ashamed to even look at your sound asleep body, and stares right at his shirt, casually thrown over the bed stand. He doesn't have to look at it to know it definitely has its best days behind it. He could at least wear something presentable when seeing you for that unplanned job, hasn't he learned anything from his past relationships? Maybe he did, but it was so long ago he wasn't sure anymore if his sloppiness was ever addressed. His chain-smoking, however, is a different story.

Holy shit, he really needs to smoke.

Kusakabe knows there's a spare cigarette and a small pack of matches hidden in the little pocket of his shirt, this very shirt within his reach. Carefully, he scoots to the side and reaches for it, fingers already brushing the sleeve, just an inch more, just a little...

You mumble his name and shift, sheets rustling around your legs. Kusakabe freezes, sure he's finally done it and woke you up, but you just adjust your position, face turned to him, and continue with your softest snores. You're all messy and exhausted, in need of a shower even more than his room is in need of tidying. With amused relief pushing his worries out of his mind, he reaches out and gently strokes your hair.

You repeat his name, with a mewl dangerously close to what you screamed into his ear a few hours ago.

Out of the sudden, the thought of smoking by your side has him disgusted. You're going to wake up to this mess, to crumbled sheets and clothes all over the place and dying plants and papers lying on the floor in piles—and he wants to add smoke right into your eyes? You deserve better than that. You deserve him to be better than that.

Hell, he's been thinking about it for a while anyway. Maybe if he remembers your face from now, so calm and smiling through your dreams, it will be easier for him to finally quit.

thank you so much for reading ❤ i'll be really happy, if you reblog it and/or leave some feedback! you can read more of my jjk fics here.

tag list: @lale-txt @mirkaaaluv @ohnococo @clumsyraccoon @honey-deku

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copperbadge · 3 months ago

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I am so close and yet so far from being done with The Chicken Salad War, argh. I have the entire rest of the book plotted out, and there's a little less than a quarter of it remaining to write, I think, but it's going to be an intense quarter. And then the rewrites will be a little more extensive than usual because I've basically been skipping scenes I don't want to write, which isn't a lot but isn't zero.

Anyway, have a scene where Ylias and Simon realize that attempting to make an edible sauce using davzda and harissa paste may be an error.

It took a few more minutes of scraping and blending, but in the end the warm, fragrant harissa paste was scooped out and into a bowl, and they both examined it.

"Now…davzda," he said, sounding excited and doomed at once, like someone about to attend an execution but fortunately not theirs.

"I'm wondering, should we just try to loosen it up with the raw hooch?" she asked. "Or actually make some shakshouka and stir the davzda into that?"

"I think to start, we make a sauce -- some beautiful paste, some davzda, and some broth," he said. "I will reserve some for further experiments."

She carried the bowl to the stove and set out a saucepan, spooning some of the harissa into it and then shuffling aside so he could add broth; he whisked them together cold, then added a careful pour of davzda from the ubiquitous gray-green bottle. The smell that rose from the mixture was…herbal, but it began to fade into something more pleasantly spicy as it heated.

[insert brief hold music here for a part of the scene I don't want to spoil yet]

"Now, I must begin prep for dinner, I think, while this simmers."

"Can I help?" she asked.

He blinked at her. "Oh -- it is my job and I am too accustomed to it. But..." he added, considering, "You won't go yet, will you? You must taste this sauce. And I have been accustomed to company, but not so much with Eddie now looking after the little ones."

"Can I criticize your technique?" she asked, grinning, and he laughed.

"Only in French, and I will not be gracious about it," he replied.

"I'd worry if you were," she said, stationing herself at the stove to mind the sauce while he gathered ingredients. By the time he was done assembling the meatballs, the sauce had thickened and darkened to an almost mahogany color. Simon procured some twist-bread and fetched crudite from the fridge ("I keep carrot sticks for Joan, and His Majesty will enjoy the leftover cucumber at dinner,") and she spooned some sauce out into a bowl, dipping the bread while he tried a piece of carrot.

At the first taste, he looked thoughtful, chewing the carrot and harissa sauce with a blank look on his face. Ylias, taken off-guard, coughed and nearly choked when she finally tasted it.

"Oh, no, oh dear," she said, taking a long sip of water while he grinned, still chewing. "It's...so earthy."

"The flavoring in the alcohol, I think," he said, finally swallowing and rinsing his own mouth out. "The oil in the chilis brings out the mushroom in the davzda."

"Ugh, but the worst part," she managed. "That's awful. It's not even bitter, really, not like davzda is, it's just...almost cloying."

"Yes, but..." he considered, eyes narrowed. "There is good flavor there too, just not in balance."

She tapped her tongue against the roof of her mouth, chasing stray hints of the sauce, then braced herself and took another, smaller taste.

"You can almost get to it," she agreed, considering more deeply. "I never bother with mushrooms in shakshouka because they're just texture at that point, the flavor's too delicate for the spice. But maybe...if you could just cut the flavor a bit."

"Less davzda?"

"Defeats the point, but maybe. Or..." she considered. "There's a lot of tomato coming through, but it's the acid. Do you think a sweet note would help, or would that just make it worse?"

"Make this worse?" he asked, amused, but he was already reaching for a jar on the counter. "The family likes muscovado in their coffee," he said, using the little spoon in the jar to lift out a mound of golden-brown sugar. "Yes?"

She gestured for him to give it a try; he added a few spoonfuls and then stirred it with the whisk again. The sauce darkened further, but when they tasted it this time, the horror had receded.

"Oh, that's...actually nice," she said. "Salty-sweet. You could even use molasses -- or a sherry if you wanted."

"Yes. Very good," he agreed, and then he leaned in and kissed her.

It surprised them both, she could tell; she didn't pull away -- he was a very good kisser -- but when he leaned back, he looked startled by what he'd done.

"Ah, perhaps inappropriate," he said. "Only -- I like this very much, this experimentation. With the sauce," he added in a stammer. "Although, of course -- "

She held up a finger and he fell silent, looking relieved.

"I like it too," she said. "A little warning next time, maybe."

#shivadhverse

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foodshowxyz · 3 months ago

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Fusilli Pasta Pesto Salad with Lettuce, Chopped Vegetables, Pesto Drizzle, and Burrata Cheese Ball

Ingredients:

125g fusilli pasta

1 ball of burrata cheese

100g mixed salad greens (e.g., spinach, arugula, lettuce)

100g cherry tomatoes, halved

1 small cucumber, chopped

1/2 red bell pepper, chopped

2 tablespoons pesto sauce

1 tablespoon olive oil

Salt and pepper to taste

Fresh basil leaves for garnish

Crushed red pepper flakes (optional)

Instructions:

Cook the Pasta:

Bring a large pot of salted water to a boil.

Add the fusilli pasta and cook according to the package instructions until al dente.

Drain the pasta and rinse it under cold water to stop the cooking process. Set aside.

Prepare the Vegetables:

In a large bowl, combine the mixed salad greens, cherry tomatoes, chopped cucumber, and chopped red bell pepper.

Prepare the Dressing:

In a small bowl, mix the pesto sauce with olive oil. Adjust the consistency with a little more olive oil if needed.

Assemble the Salad:

Add the cooked pasta to the bowl with the vegetables and greens.

Drizzle the pesto dressing over the pasta and vegetables.

Toss everything gently to coat evenly with the dressing.

Season with salt and pepper to taste.

Serve:

Transfer the salad to serving plates.

Place the burrata cheese ball on top of the salad.

Garnish with fresh basil leaves and crushed red pepper flakes if desired.

Drizzle a little more pesto sauce over the burrata for added flavor.

Times:

Prep Time: 15 minutes

Cooking Time: 10 minutes

#food #food blogs #delicious #recipe #food pics #homemade #foodshow #food photography #summer food #summer recipes #fresh salad #salads #salad recipes #burrata #italian #healthy eating #healthy recipe #weight loss

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najia-cooks · 7 months ago

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[ID: A close-up on a dish with glossy noodles, spinach, carrot, mushroom, and sesame seeds. End ID]

잡채 / Japchae (Korean noodle stir-fry)

Japchae is a popular Korean dish made with glass noodles. Sweet potato starch noodles are fried in a flavorful sauce, combined with colorful, tender-crisp vegetables, and dressed with sesame; the result is chewy, savory, garlicky, slightly sweet, and highly satisfying. Because of its versatility and the ease of preparing large batches, japchae is frequently served for banquets at weddings and birthday celebrations.

"Japchae" is a compound of "잡" "jap" "mixed," and "채" "chae" "vegetables"; both syllables are Korean readings of Chinese characters ("雜" and "菜"). Like the name, modern japchae dishes combine Chinese and Korean elements: the cellophane noodles now considered central to the dish originated as a Chinese import towards the end of the 20th century. From the 17th century until then, japchae had been a royal court dish consisting only of stir-fried vegetables (frequently mushrooms, cucumber and radish).

Japchae, along with other Korean foods, is becoming more prevalent in the Philippines and Malaysia, by way of privately owned Korean restaurants usually owned by migrants. Dr. Gaik Cheng Khoo writes that, despite the South Korean government's campaign to promote the globalization of hansik (한식; Korean food), it is these independent restaurateurs who actually engage in Korean "gastrodiplomacy" by interfacing with clients in their particular contexts.

Recipe under the cut!

Patreon | Paypal | Venmo

Ingredients:

For the dish:

8oz (230g) 당면 / dangmyeon (Korean sweet potato starch noodles)

1 medium carrot, cut into a thick julienne

1 small yellow onion, sliced

2-3 green onions, cut into 2" pieces

6oz fresh spinach

1 cup (65g) sliced shiitake or wood ear mushrooms

4oz beef substitute of choice, or 1/2 cup (30g) soya chunks (chunky TVP)

1 clove garlic, chopped

Neutral oil, to fry

Sesame seeds, to garnish

Both dangmyeon (which may be also labelled "sweet potato vermicelli") and soya chunks / nutra chunks (from a brand such as Nutrela) may be found at an Asian grocery store.

For the sauce:

2 cloves garlic, grated

4 Tbsp Korean soy sauce

2-3 Tbsp brown sugar, to taste

2 Tbsp toasted sesame oil

1/2 tsp ground black pepper, or to taste

For the marinade:

1/2 cup vegetarian 'beef' stock from concentrate, or vegetable stock (only if using nutra chunks, which need to be hydrated)

1 tsp dark soy sauce

1/2 tsp brown sugar

1/2 tsp toasted sesame oil

Instructions:

1. Bring a large pot of water to a boil. Meanwhile, prep your vegetables and mix all ingredients for the sauce and marinade.

2. Mix beef substitute and all marinade ingredients to coat.

3. Once the water is boiling, blanch the spinach for 30 seconds to a minute, until bright green. Drain and shock in cold water. Squeeze out excess water, roughly chop, and dress with a bit of salt.

4. In the same water, boil sweet potato noodles for 6-8 minutes, until translucent and softened. A firm pinch should break the noodle.

5. When noodles are fully cooked, drain and shock in cold water to halt cooking. Cut them in a few places with kitchen scissors to make them easier to eat. Toss with a bit of sesame oil to prevent sticking.

6. While noodles are cooking, begin stir-frying the vegetables. Heat 1 tsp oil in a medium skillet on high. Stir-fry carrots, onion, and a pinch of salt for a minute or two until slightly softened.

7. Set aside and add more oil to the pan; stir-fry mushrooms for a couple minutes until they have released their water. Add garlic and sauté until fragrant.

8. Add green onion and cook for 30 seconds to a minute; do not allow it to soften too much. Set aside.

9. If using nutra chunks: drain and reserve liquid. Fry for a minute on high, agitating often, to brown. Pour in the rest of the marinade and cook until dry. If using another beef substitute: fry according to package directions.

10. Heat another Tbsp of neutral oil in a large skillet and add in noodles and about half of the prepared sauce. Stir fry, tossing often, until fragrant. Remove to a bowl and stir in vegetables, beef, and the rest of the prepared sauce. Garnish with sesame seeds and serve warm.

Leftovers may be served hot or cold, as a side dish or a main, or over rice.

#Korean #dangmyeon #carrots #mushrooms #green onion #bell pepper #spinach #nutra chunks

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redbleedingrose · 1 year ago

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This idea popped into my head while making my coffee this morning. How do the batboys like their coffee? Do they like the specialty drinks or just a good cup of coffee?

I could honestly go both ways. Like some morning I just want a cup of coffee with some cream and sugar but some days I want a specialty drink that will give you a cavity by just looking at it lol

OH MY GOD!!! I LOVE THIS!!!

Coffee/Latte Orders of the Bat Boys and Vanserra Bros

Rhysand

I think it depends on the day but Rhys gives me Cold Brew vibes. He needs the espresso for sure with all his high lord activities! But he absolutely adds oat milk to it, because he does not want plain black coffee.

I don't think he likes the actual flavor of the cold brew, he def drinks it in the morning because he needs it to function, but later he would drink homemade caramel cappuccino.

And I think he wakes before you, so he will make you a cappuccino as well. He always sits himself at the edge of the bed, watching you sleep peacefully for a couple of minutes while sipping on his cappuccino, thinking about all the things he is grateful for, before leaning down to brush your hair out of your face and pepper kisses all over your face.

Once you wake up, and you give him his "proper kiss," he will leave you to continue his work, your piping cappuccino set on your beside table for when you're ready to start your day.

Cassian

Cass does not give me a cuppa joe kinda male. He likes his water and fruit juices and smoothies.

He drinks water throughout the day, especially because of the amount of training he does. He has one of those huge water bottles that has all the water he is supposed to drink in a day, and he carries it around religiously.

He def gets one for you and will check in on you throughout the day and remind you to drink your water, especially if you are behind on your water intake. He is the kind of male to make it into a contest between you two, just to make sure your competitive ass gets enough water.

He also appreciates putting strawberries, lemons, cucumbers, pineapples in his water so that the fruit can infuse its vitamins into the water.

And the smoothies are his morning meal. He adds protein powder, fruits, and greens into these and he loves them. He feels super refreshed by them, and will try to convince you (and his brothers) to give them a try, and they turn out to be pretty good when he makes them. If you attempt to make them, they kinda taste like grass in water.

Azriel

Az screams black coffee. He drinks his coffee hot, plain and simple. He uses this dark roast blend that is very traditional to the Illyrian mountains. His mother used to drink coffee like that, and I think it would remind him of her, and thus, he drinks his coffee black. He is proud of it too, smh.

I think it helps him poop, poor male is chronically constipated from stress

When he meets you, he teases you for adding milk and sugar to your coffee, but once he gets a taste of your coffee, he may or may not sneak in a sip or two from your mug when you aren't looking.

You both like to start off your days sitting on the balcony, steaming cups in hand with Az's wing wrapped around you to keep you warm, and you watch the sunrise together.

It tends to be really quiet in the morning hour, and it is a special time for you and Az to kinda soak in the peace and allow for your mating bond to glow as the bright as sun.

Lucien

Luc is for sure an oat milk chai latte girly pop.

He also appreciates a matcha latte here and there. I think he likes the earthy flavor, so if he is not feeling chai (which is very rare), he will go for the matcha. If he is feeling extra spicy, he will drink it iced.

I think the spice of the chai latte really brings him back to all the good times in his childhood, when Eris would sneak little five year old Luc some caffeine through the chai.

I think if Luc were to drink coffee, it would be a caramel apple flavoring that comes around only during the fall seasons in Day Court.

I feel like Lucien would be the kind of male who wants to support small businesses, so he would go to different cafes throughout the court to try their chai lattes and would bring you home a fresh pastry and warm coffee. It's especially fun for him when you wake up early and join him.

Eris

Er's coffee order is interesting and complex, just like the male himself.

He likes to drink Autumn-spiced mocha lattes. It is an espresso with steamed goat milk, chocolate, cinnamon, and other spices. It actually is incredible, and he gets it every morning with a warm almond croissant for breakfast.

He likes his goat milk. I don't know why, but he does. Fucking sexy ass weirdo

Later in the day, he will have a honey cream latte which is an espresso with steamed goat milk and honey. His afternoon drink is not because he needs the energy, but I think he likes to have a warm drink in between lunch and dinner.

You usually join him in the office, warm latte in hand with your own drink, and you sit together on his green velvet couch, his free arm around your shoulders playing with strands of your hair as you discuss your day and plans for the night.

When you're done with your drinks, you will take his empty mug back to the kitchens, but not before he kisses you.... and attempts to bite your cheek off.

he loves your cheeks, what can I say?

Masterlist which severely needs updating

#rose answers #acotar #acotar fanfic #acotar headcanons #rhysand x reader #rhysand acotar #azriel x reader #azriel acotar #cassian x reader #cassian acotar #eris x reader #eris vanserra #eris acotar #lucien x reader #lucien acotar #lucien vanserra #rose rambles

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what-if-nct · 1 year ago

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What Stray Kid's cum taste like

Bangchan: Stress, whatever that may taste like with a hint of unexpected pineapple.

Lee know: Batteries, not battery acid but like if you put a AA battery in your mouth, there's a slight tingle but it's pleasant.

Changbin: Protein powder, not flavored just pure protein powder straight from the container.

Hyunjin: Sweet cold foam, vanilla, powdered sugar and a hint of fresh coffee.

Han: Twizzlers, nerds, grape fanta and mozzarella sticks he left under his bed for a week.

Felix: Fresh strawberries, sunshine, apple juice, fresh baked cookies, it is an honor to even taste it.

Seungmin: Perrier sparkling water, cucumber, lemon and a slight tinge of antibacterial soap.

Jeongin: Five different flavors of monster, rockstar, sour gummy worms and warm flat mountain dew.

#hyunjin #hwang hyunjin #helped by 🐖🐇 anon #stray kids #stray kids scenario #stray kids smut #smut #bangchan #lee know #han #han Jisung #Felix lee #seungmin #Jeongin #Changbin

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silkentine · 6 months ago

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I couldn’t resist making another illustration for Chapter 25 of To Be Warm in the Cold by @okiedoketm

Seriously, listen to the description of this sandwich:

Curiously, Go peeks inside the bag. It’s three sandwiches wrapped in wax paper.

“Turkey, provolone, and cucumber with a cayenne honey drizzle,” Sanji says, pulling out a cigarette and lighting up. “On sliced ciabatta.”

Go rips away the paper and scarfs the first one down like a wild animal. They missed their brother’s food so fucking badly. Zeff’s cooking is beyond phenomenal, but Sanji has a lot of Go’s favorite recipes in his arsenal that the shitty geezer just doesn’t enjoy making, or that don’t have a place on a five-star menu.

Like sandwiches.

‘Fuck, that’s delicious,’ Go signs, still chewing. The cayenne honey is the perfect kick to the understated flavors of the turkey and provolone. The cucumber adds just enough freshness to the salty, dry sandwich. ‘Thank you. Holy shit.’

So fucking scrumptious, and for some reason I was starving every time I read this chapter. One day, I will eat it and feel true spiritual satisfaction for the first time in my adult life.

#to be warm in the cold #one piece fanfiction #one piece oc #one piece #vinsmoke go #sandwich #food art #one piece fanart #op fanart #vinsmoke sanji #black leg sanji #comic art #okiedoketm #tbwitc #tbwitc go

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henneseyhoe · 1 year ago

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COUNTRY LOVIN’| Cookin’ Soul

1 2 3

✮✮✮✮

Sometimes Sorie hated admitting that she was the only one who cooked, but If she didn’t cook, Buck wouldn’t eat. Unless it was something simple like an apple, or cucumbers and vinegar, the man wasn’t gonna eat. He did attempt to learn how to cook, realizing that he came from a generation that believed men shouldn’t be in the kitchen, and he wanted to change that so his daughter never thought she was only limited to catering and baring children like most older southern women thought of themselves. Of course he’s a man, so he didn’t realize it on his own, his own divorce being what led him to open his mind a little more.

Ultimately, he failed at his attempts. Some people just aren’t meant to cook. Sorie had memories from ages as young as thirteen when he would accidentally burn the chicken and they’d just have to eat rice and beans instead. She never complained though, it was still good—alright eats, plus she knew how hard he worked.

Didn’t stop her from calling her mother just to gossip about what had happened though.

Sorie would be up half of the night telling her all about dinner, the woman getting a hoot out of her ex husband not being able to do something as simple as baking chicken. Wasn’t cause she hated him or anything, she just found it funny knowing he still couldn’t cook for shit after all these years.

At the end of the conversation, Shonda would apologize for her daughter not being able to enjoy a complete meal after a long day of farm work she was basically forced to do. She wished she could bring something else over for the young girl to eat, but she was an entire hour away. It was another reason she wished she brought her only child when she left town.

It took Shonda a long time to accept her daughter wanting to stay on the farm with Buck, but she knew how much her daughter loathed the city. She thought their air was too thick and weird smelling, and the people were rude for no reason. She couldn’t take a breath of fresh air without smelling something that made her nose scrunch. Shonda agreed. She guessed she felt that way cause she’s never really been outside the low country.

Shonda honestly didn’t wanna bring her into an environment she didn’t wanna be in either, nor did she really wanna be there herself, but it was either the city or find someone to build her a house on her grandfathers land, and that would cost an arm and a leg these days. She refused to ask for Bucks help to build one either. Once she had finally gotten a deal on a home, she moved, but she felt she cried for forty days and forty nights before anything got better.

Apart from the circumstances that led her to learning how to cook, Sorie grew to actually love cooking and other activities related. She loved trying new recipes and new flavors, anything that would give people a chance to praise her on her hard work. She thought if she worked all that while, somebody better give her a compliment or two. after all, she didn’t have to cook anything for anyone and could have just worried about herself.

She wouldn’t do that though, she loved her dad too much.

✮✮✮✮

Closing the heated oven, I let out a tired huff, leaning against the kitchen counter. I had been cooking for about an hour now, and I was exhausted. I honestly wanted to just say forget it and let my father take the macaroni out of the oven, but I already knew how that would go.

My hair had been tied up into a puff to help me not get hot too quick, knowing I would have started sweating and felt disgusting by the time it was time to eat if I didn’t do it, and there was nothing I hated more than that feeling. Only downside is that my edges started to curl up, the perfect swoops being ruined. sighing, I walk out of the kitchen, heading into the bathroom to quickly get myself together.

I began refreshing myself, laying a cold towel over my face to finish cooling off my head, then I redid my ponytail.

While in the middle of doing what I felt was needed, I heard three soft knocks on the front door. I couldn’t stop my eyes from rolling to the back of my head, another loud huff exiting my mouth.

‘Did people not have manners anymore? Who comes over to someone’s house, uninvited, all at 8pm? How dare they?!’ I thought, my eyebrows scrunching together as I tried to focus on getting my hair under control.

Three more knocks came after that.

“Daddy! Get the door, please?!” I shout, no response following apart from another set of knocks that had my patients, or lack there of, wearing thinner than a 35 year old white man’s hairline.

“Daddy!” I called again and sighed, attempting to toss my hair back into the puff that had failed, my hair sliding right out of the hair wrapper. I was completely irritated.

I grabbed up a brush and started brushing around the edges, hoping that’d be enough to make it stay put. The brushing was aggressive and so were the harsh bristles scratching away at my scalp. my arms were already burning from the constant flicking of my wrist, desperately trying to get that perfect puff I had earlier. It was complete sensory overload.

Tossing the brush somewhere back into my hair bin, I stretched and stretched that hair wrapper, getting it as tight as I could around my thick hair.

Then, POP.

The wrapped broke. falling into the sink as I watched it all happen. The scene replayed in my head, one in slow motion and the other in real time. Apparently my brain wanted to dramatize the already dramatic and stressful situation. letting go of my hair, I took a deep breath, trying to clear my head and stop the pressure rising in my throat.

Don’t cry, don’t cry, don’t cry.

Knock, Knock, Knock

“DADDY!!” I yell, stomping out of the bathroom to see if the old man had made it to the door yet, and of course, he hadn’t. I jogged out of the halls bathroom and into the foyer, grunting while unlocking all the locks. “Hello?!” Flinging the door open, my eyebrows immediately knitted together as I looked at the pair of men, both faces looking like different versions of each other. Another embarrassing moment to add to the books, remembering how my hair probably looks right now. “Umm, can I help y’all?” I ask, my hand immediately going up to fluff out my hair into a decent afro instead.

“Well, if dinner is ready, then yes!” Tony beamed happily, but my question was aimed more so for Trevante, as if him being with his father was a surprise. “And you?” I averted my eyes to Trevante, a bit of attitude in my voice. “It’s like that, huh?” The man mumbles, relaying the same attitude while ignoring my question and pushing passed me to walk into the house.

My face conceals the emotion I felt, but I really wanted to push them right back outside as they walked right passed me. “Finally y’all got here!” My father exclaims, coming down the stairs while finishing up with tucking his button up into his pants. Tony laughs and daps the man up with a hug to go with it, Trevante just giving him a handshake.

I shook my head at the scene and closed the door. “It would have been nice to know we were having guests” I say, crossing my arms. It was like I had whispered, neither of the older men turning or stopping their conversation to hear what I had to say. It stung.

I turn on my heels and walk into the kitchen to save me from saying anything I had no business saying because it would have for sure rose the dead with all the profanities waiting behind my lips.

While checking on the food, I hear laughter behind me, making me pop my head up from the oven. “You were just too cute as a baby” Trevante speaks, holding a picture of me when I was three. In the picture was me and my grandmother picking flowers from a field behind her house. We went back there almost every Sunday evening to do that, but with old age and her health on the line, we slowed down. We haven’t picked any flowers since I was a teenager.

I gasp and drop my oven mittens, speeding over to him with intentions to snatch my possession away, but he quickly held it over his head, his hand reaching and touching the ceiling. “Where’d you find that?!” I struggle to grab it from him.

“Where you think? Your room”

My eyes widened. If this was a cartoon, steam would have blown out of my ears right then. “You went in my room? How’d you even sneak in there?” I sneered. He obviously found humor in my agitation and confusion.

“Easy. My pops never pays attention, and yo’ daddy is blind” he smiles childishly and I suck my teeth. I stood on my tippy toes, even jumped a few times to get the picture back, but to no avail. “Give it!” I say, backing up from him and holding my hand out. he shakes his head, dangling the picture above my head.

“Trevante, give. It. Back. No-”

“Or what?” He interrupts, stepping to me. The smile on his face was wiped clean off as he stared down at me, my knees getting weak. I leaned on the kitchens island me, our eye contact never breaking from there.

I didn’t know what I would do, but I knew what I wanted to do. He chuckles at my silence. not even a breath from me being heard, but I was definitely breathing, taking in the sweet, yet spiced scent of him.

“Say please, ma”

Talk about a tease. Only thing that could get him to stop was the new feel of a presence behind him, interrupted by the two other men suddenly walking into the kitchen. I took my chance and jumped high enough to snatch the picture from his hand, then push him away from me, turning back to the stove.

“Woah! Y’all bet not be scrappin in THIS house like y’all two strangers” Tony said, raising an eyebrow at us.

“You only said that cause my baby would win” My dad says, Tony kissing his teeth. “Oh shut up. You just better be lucky I don’t got no daughters!” Tony argued, sitting at the dinner table, the two others following behind him. “Lucky?! They would have inherited yo’ skinny ass arms!”

“Skinny?! And what would you say bout Trevante, huh? The boy built like John Henry!” They all bursted into laughter and I chuckled, beginning to turn off all of the stove eyes to prepare plates.

“We all know he got all that muscle from Chrissy strong ass”

“Aye, man! That’s my momma you talkin’ ‘bout” Tre interjected, Tony shaking his head. “He only saying that cause my ‘strong ass’ wife decked him senior year for calling her fat”

“Man, my ears was ringing after that!”

Interrupting their trash talking by sitting the plates on the table, I set mine down first, then everybody else’s. I’ll be damed if I slaved away in the kitchen for them to get the first plate. I put Trevante’s down last, smiling proudly at my presentation. Macaroni, string beans, brown rice, and baked chicken. I knew exactly what he liked on his plate, and the proportions he needed to fill him, as I did everyone else’s.

“Thank you” He thanked simply, his hand softly grazing my thigh under my skirt, making me suppress a soft moan. Was I that touch deprived? Probably.

I smiled softly, sitting down next to him, a little hope in the back of my mind that he’d do it again.

“Babygirl, this looks amazing” my father compliments, Tony humming in agreement as he takes a bite of his chicken. “Y’all actin’ like it’s a surprise that she threw down in there” Trevante says, doing a quick prayer over his food before digging in.

“Right, y’all got me thinkin I lost my magic touch for a moment” I joked, starting to eat. “Never” Tony shook his head, licking the juices from his chicken off his thumb.

✮✮✮✮

“Tell that one story, buck! You know what I’m talking about!” Tony shouted, Buck shaking his head and dismissing him with the wave of his hand, knowing the story would never end if they started it. “No, Tony! Leave me alone!” It had been an hour after dinner and both the older men had spent that whole time roasting each other like usual, drunk on whatever Buck pulled out of his old cabinet.

Sorie looked between the two loud men, her head cupped in her hands as she half listened to them go on about whatever for the passed hour. Trevante, on the other hand was even less interested in whatever they were talking about, tired of hearing about their egotistical trips when they were his age.

“Sorie, you don’t know the story of how yo’ daddy got his name?” Tony questioned, leaning into the table intriguingly as if she had said something interesting. Smelling all the alcohol on his breath, she leaned back, not wanting to get a whiff of anymore.

“No? I’m supposed to?” She questioned, again half interested.

“Lemme tell you!” Tony shouts, excitement lacing in his voice. Sorie held in a loud laugh, rolling her lips inwards to stop it from slipping out and interrupting the story. Trevante sighs and takes a sip of his water, already knowing where this conversation was headed since he had heard the story 100 times before.

“Now everybody know Jeremiah got a big ass forehead like he got antlers attached to the muhfucka, but that ain’t why we call him that, so I digress! but listen,”

Tony started, laughter immediately being heard around the table.

“Not the government name” Sorie, giggled, Buck playfully hitting Tony on his arm as he continues the story without missing a beat. “Growin up, we was hardheaded. We wasn’t soft like some of this new generation, and Buck was the worst out of all of us!”

“I wasn’t that bad, don’t make it seem like that” Buck interrupts with his argument, which Tony disagreed with.

“You were horrible! You busted that boys head wide open for a damn bill you thought he stole, just for you to find out the fifty was in yo’ damn pocket the whole time!”

As Sorie listened to the story, she feels Trevante tap her leg, then pull on her skirt, attempting to get her attention. She looks over at him and he makes a gestured nod with his head for her to follow his lead, so she did. Getting up without another word for the current conversation, the two walk outside, neither of the other other men bothering to ask where they were planning to go since they were too busy debating on whether their actions back then were justified or not.

“Yo’ daddy sure can talk a head off” Trevante speaks, sitting on the porch steps. Sorie closes the screen door behind them to avoid letting in any unwanted bugs, then sat next to him, straightening her skirt over her knees. “Tuh, I know you not talkin’. Yo’ daddy just spent fifteen minutes talking about Cadillacs and the 80s for no reason” Shaking his head, Trevante starts to chuckle, and Sorie could just feel that he was gonna say something condescending about himself or something completely out of pocket. “His favorite typa truck, and his favorite decade before I ruined the fun”

Sorie looks at him with no expression, Trevante just he shrugging, taking a pack of cigs and a lighter out of his pocket. “Don’t say that, Tre. It’s not right, and it’s not true”

“Just cause it’s not right, don’t mean it ain’t true” he says bluntly, tucking the cig between his lips and lighting it up. She makes a face of both sadness and disgust. Disgust for the pack of cigs, and sadness for his attitude towards his relationship with his father. Sorie always tried to stay off the topic of Trevante’s iffy relationship between him and his father, but lately it seems to find it’s way into their conversations, plaguing whatever good vibe they had going. He always maneuvered around telling her too much about it, and she tried not to pry it out of him out of respect for his comfortability and boundaries. It’d been that way since their teenage years.

When they were up, they were up. Most likely because of some huge accomplishment Trevante had came across, but when they were down, they were separated so they wouldn’t kill each other. Right now, they seemed to be alright. Aware of their situation, but uncaring of it considering they were use to the behavior of each other. She felt bad for him, meanwhile he felt bad for her and the dynamic she had with her own father.

“Okay…” She whispers and gives up on the topic, looking down at her sandals. He takes a pull from his cigarette, then blows the smoke up into the air. Sorie’s nose scrunched at the smell of the smoke.“Yuck” She shivered childishly and covered her nose.

She hated the smell of cigarettes. It reminded her of before her grandmother stopped smoking for her health, the same cigarettes being the reason for her lung problems now. Her grandmother always shooed her off while she smoked, but Sorie’s argument was she could still smell it through the door of her room.

Trevante looks over at her with slight displeasure, rolling his eyes. “Oh please, Sorie” he says, Sorie shaking her head as he uncaringly took another puff. The more her nose burned from the smell, the more she got fed up with his disrespectful habit. Disrespectful to both himself, and her nose. “Jesus gave you a shiny new body twenty five years ago, and you’re killing it right now” She argues, grabbing the cigar from out of his mouth and throwing it to the side, staring at him. The man looked back at her with an equal amount of disrespect, his eyebrows furrowing.

“Little girl, you must be outta yo rabbit ass mind” He squints and she looks away, still feeling his dark eyes on her. Shivers crawled up her back like a cluster of spiders as the breeze of warm wind picked up around them, though that wasn’t what caused her shivers. It was really his choice of words to call her a “little girl”. She might’ve hated that more than the nasty look he gave her.

She stares off into the swaying field of sweet grass, unmoved by his irritation. “I’m not a little girl, and I hate when you smoke” she says with no attitude, yet it still had a very large presence in her words.

“And I hate when you tell me not to smoke. now yo’ rude ass owe me another cigarette” he shot back instantly, her head swiftly turning back to him so she could give him a mean mug. She was more than willing to go get a switch off of a tree and whip him like her grandmother did, if he pushed her to it.

“It’s bad for you, Tre! Seriously!” he shakes his head at her, hesitating to close the carton of cigarettes.

Her face softens with a pout, making him kiss his teeth, tucking his pack of smokes back into his pocket.

“Fine, damn” He huffs quietly and she smiles, now satisfied.

‘If only he’d listen like this all the time’ She thought.

The silence of her victory stood for only a few seconds before he started to snicker, switching his sitting position and leaning his back against the porches railing. She raises a brow at him, confused. “What?”

“Nothing, it’s just…You care about me” He smiles, becoming his playful self once again. She blows off at his assumption and laughs, waving him off with her hand.

“Whatever, boy. I just don’t wanna see you croak from lung cancer at 40. Dark, but very, very true, and don’t think I forgot about you having asthma”

He lets out a hearty laugh, clapping his hands together. He wasn’t surprised at all that she remembered that detail about him. Trevante recalled how Sorie use to press him like she was his mother back in middle school for not packing his inhaler for gym class, but since growing up it had calmed down immensely.

“Just say you care about me! No shame in that. I wanna hear you say it, actually”

Rolling her eyes, she couldn’t help but agree. Mostly because she knew he’d never let it go until she gave in and confirmed what he always knew. “Okay, damn! I care about you and your lungs, who cares?” She fussed, softly pushing him, which his strong stature barely moved from.

“I do! It’s adorable”

He compliments, but all Sorie did was cringe. She let out a breathy laugh, shaking her head. “Adorable?” She repeats and he nods. “Yeah..like, cute.” joking as if she didn’t understand the meaning of “Adorable”, he nudges her arm before noticing her quick mood change. studying her facial expressions for a moment and it’s obvious resentment of the word, he hums. “Oh, You don’t like that word…”

She shakes her head. “No, not really”

“Why not?”

Shrugging, she sighs. “I dunno. Makes me feel like a child, I guess”

He hums once again, nodding. “Mm, right. You a grown woman” he teases and she smiles, nodding. “A grown ass woman” she reiterates, snapping her fingers with playful sass.

“I see that. A fine one too..” He says, causing her to pause, all the sass she just had leaving her like it saw a storm coming. The new look on her face amused him. He loved how timid she became around him when he said certain things to her. One minute she was cool, and they were just two friends talking, the next they both thought about something a little deeper.

She’d had been called fine many times before, but when he said it, she felt different. like there was more to it than a simple compliment from a friend. Those same butterflies that loved fluttering around in her tummy made a grand appearance for what felt like the millionth time today, getting her all warm inside.

“Stop it, Tre” She looks away, her ears getting hot. He keeps going though, scooting closer to her and bursting her personal space bubble. The longer she waited to speak again, the closer he got until his lips were nearly grazing her ear. “You blushin’ for me, Sorie?” He queries, his voice smooth like velvet, vibrating her body. She felt like electricity ran through her with how he enunciated her name.

Letting out a sharp gasp, her thighs closed in on themselves, the girl jumping up out of her spot and brushing her skirt off. Clearing her throat suddenly, she looks down at the man who had such a cocky grin on his face. It heated her knowing that he knew just what to do with and to her, and yet barely did anything.

Thinking of something else to say, she crosses her arms over her chest. “Anyway! It’s getting late. Take your drunken father and get off my property, please and thank you” Sorie states firmly, but Trevante could see right through the act.

He laughs, standing up as she walks back into the house to avoid any more conversation of the night, afraid it’d end in something a little more eventful than him just whispering in her ear.

✮✮✮✮

#country lovin’#henneseyhoe #trevante rhodes x reader #trevante rhodes #trevante rhodes smut #black fanfic writer #black fanfiction #black!reader #masterlist #black actors #black reader #black!fem!reader #black!oc #smut masterlist #trevante rhodes x oc #oc smut #oc x character

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spacelazarwolf · 5 months ago

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okroshka - russian/slavic

cookbook: beyond borscht

total time from start to finish: 30 minutes

rating system

difficulty: 1 this recipe was super easy to make, and can also be made ahead of time and stored in the fridge. since it's eaten cold, you can literally just pull it out and serve it.

rating: 4 (3 from me, 5 from my friend) i didn't mind it but i wouldn't go out of my way to make it again. however, my ukranian jewish friend (who will be my roommate in a couple months) has been eating this since she was a kid and she loved it so i will definitely be making it for her in the future.

this was a very interesting culinary experience for me because i don't have a lot of experience making or even eating a lot of slavic food. the flavor profile and texture was much different than what i'm used to (mostly mediterranean food) so maybe the more i eat it the more i'll like it.

recipe:

3 medium waxy potatoes

4 large eggs

4 cups (960 ml) cultured buttermilk (i used 3 parts sour cream and 1 part milk)

4 cups (960 ml) vegetable broth (i used homemade vegetable stock which is pretty strong, so i did half stock and half water)

1 tsp salt (pretty sure i used more than 1 tsp)

2 tbsp (4 g) finely chopped fresh dill (def used more than this)

1 tbsp (2 g) finely chopped parsley (also def used more than this)

ground black pepper, as needed

1.5 cups (225 g) diced ham or cooked chicken breast (obviously did not add this...)

10 to 12 large radishes, diced

4 medium cucumbers, diced

3 green onions, diced

bring a large pot of salted water to a boil over high heat and add the potatoes and eggs. cook the eggs for 10 minutes, then remove them with a slotted spoon and place them into an ice bath to cool. cook the potatoes until they are fork tender, an additional 10 to 15 minutes, then remove them from the pot to cool. once the potatoes and eggs are cool enough to handle, peel. and dice them into pea-sized pieces.

in a separate large pot, whisk together the buttermilk, broth, salt, dill, parsley, and black pepper.

add the potatoes, eggs, ham, radishes, cucumbers, and green onions and stir to combine. transfer the soup to the refrigerator. serve the soup chilled.

#jewish #jumblr #jewish food #avishai cooks

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matchalovertrait · 8 months ago

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Dulce was eliminated from the competition. Is this the end of the road for her?

Previous / Next (Transcript under the cut)

(1.) [Sofia] Good thing everyone is okay!

[Mia] Chefs, you guys have 5 minutes left on the clock! Please start plating soon.

(2.) [Alex] When I finished plating, I took a look at my dish and thought about it. I was not really happy with it. Is it missing something?

(3.) [Dulce] I did a taste test when the 5-minute mark hit... but some of the vegetables weren't cooked all the way. I didn't even try the goat yet. There was no time. I put the lid back on and hoped for the best.

(4.) [Andrea] 1 minute left!

[Rubiya] Oh no... I forgot the lemon juice in the jicama dip. I don't think I saw any in the fridge? Maybe I can cut up the limes instead and put them on the side? I see some at the pantry over there.

(5.) [Andrea] Chefs, your time is up. Please come to the judges' table.

(6.) N/A

(7.) [Mia] Chefs, you all look rather down. You don't seem as optimistic as you did in the last round. What's on your mind?

(8.) [Rubiya] Haha, I guess we all had some sort of hiccup.

[Dulce] Sorta, aha.

[Alex] Mhm.

(9.) [Sofia] We've all been there, guys. Even me! Before I made it big, a lot of people didn't believe in me. I know we have to judge your food, but just remember that we all believe in you guys. That's why you're here. Mia saw something in all of you.

(10.) [Alex] Thank you.

[Rubiya] We appreciate the reassurance.

[Dulce] Yeah, thanks.

(11.) [Rubiya] Alright! First, we have Chef Rubiya's appetizer.

[Rubiya] Chefs, I have made you chana masala goat tacos with a hatch green chile salsa and jicama dip.

(12.) [Carlo] The goat is really juicy and flavorful. Also, the jicama dip adds some nice freshness to the tacos.

(13.) [Mia] The only bad thing is that the tortillas got cold and soggy... that's not good, especially because tacos are so reliant on the tortillas.

(14.) [Sofia] But hey, you opting for the limes instead of the lemon juice worked out well for you. I know these tacos aren't exactly authentic, but I've eaten a lot of tacos in Del Sol Valley and many taco stands there have limes instead of lemons. It makes a big difference.

(15.) [Rubiya] Thank you, judges.

[Andrea] Next, we have Chef Alex's appetizer.

[Alex] Chefs, I made for you an egusi soup with cubed goat meat, spiralized jicama, and chana masala.

(16.) [Alex] ...but I did use pumpkin seeds instead of egusi seeds.

[Mia] That is a common substitution! Let me say, this soup is quite rich. Also, you have a git when it comes to plating.

(17.) [Carlo] I have to agree. The cubed goat and spiralized jicama are nice. That shows you have technique. I just think it needs something else to balance out the heartiness of the soup. You went a little too light on the vegetables.

(18.) [Sofia] Yeah, I found some of the flavors a bit overpowering, but at least the goat is cooked all the way. It's tender.

(19.) [Alex] Thank you, judges.

[Andrea] Finally, we have Chef Dulce's entree.

[Dulce] Judges, I made you all a tomato soup with chana masala and chopped hatch green chiles and jicama.

(20.) [Mia] You've done it again, Dulce. You know how to combine flavors perfectly. The cucumber, onion, and bell peppers make this dish so fulfilling.

(21.) [Sofia] Ohh, I wish I could enjoy this more thoroughly. I am not sure if the added red chiles were a good move. I can't really taste the rest of it.

(22.) [Carlo] They're both right. It's delicious, but the spice is too much. The hatch green chiles themselves were fine. The goat and some of the vegetables are kind of hard to chew too.

(23.) [Dulce] Thank you, judges.

[Andrea] Well done, chefs. Please go to the room next door so the judges can have a discussion. We'll see you in a bit.

(24.) [Rubiya] Guys! I served them cold and soggy tacos! I think it's over for me.

[Alex] I'm not feeling good either. I'm not exactly seeking Carlo's approval anymore, but he's still a judge...

(25.) [Dulce] Yeah, it was a brutal round for all of us, huh? I don't know what I was thinking.

[Rubiya] I thought it would get easier with each round, but I'm not so sure anymore.

(26.) [Andrea] Chefs, welcome back to the judges' table. Judges?

(27.) [Mia] This was a difficult decision to make.

[Carlo] Even for me. Everyone made a delicious dish.. but they all came with their major faults.

[Mia] And unfortunately, Dulce is being diced in this round.

#tjolc #tjolc gen 1 #alegria legacy #matchalovertrait #dulce alegria #rubiya jabal #alex marino #andrea mixon #mia d'angelo ramirez #sofia bjergsen #carlo mancini #this isn't a trick this time #brb hiding in my bunker #no but they'll explain in the next and final part #i hated doing this to her :(#and i'll just say rn that it's best for her character-development-wise :(#and her losing doesn't mean that still can't be a stepping stone for her

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