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egcdeath · 3 years ago

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ways to say i love you without saying “i love you”

pairing: steve rogers x reader

summary: you and steve explore love languages

word count: 5.1k

warnings: fluff, a little angst because of miscommunications, reader & steve being idiots, good intentions but terrible delivery, mentions of other characters

author’s note: this fic has been sitting unfinished in my drafts for so long. this fic is like, ancient. this fic was almost destroyed because it was briefly in the library of alexandria. when i reopened the document with this fic, there were mold spores growing on it. (p.s. steve’s love langauge is acts of service, and the reader’s is quality time)

you can find my masterlist and taglist here

Prologue

Steve was a multitasker. You knew this well. Perhaps too well.

That never seemed to bother you before, but if the man who was supposed to be taking a serene nature walk with you checked his goddamn flip phone one more time, you were completely sure that you’d lose it.

You paused your story about your obnoxious coworkers for a moment, stopping in the middle of the gravelly trail you two were making your way down.

“Steve, seriously, are you even listening?” you griped, ushering him towards the side of the pavement as a man on a bike flew by.

He guffawed a bit at this, “of course I am. You just said something about…” he paused, and you gestured with your hands for him to continue. “Okay, sorry,” the blush on his face was becoming more and more apparent.

You involuntarily scoffed, rolling your eyes as you did so, “I’m glad to know that whatever you’re waiting for on there,” you gestured to his pocket, “is more important than spending quality time with your girlfriend, who, must I remind you, took time off to be here with you.”

“Nothing is more important to me than you, I’m just on call. I’m probably going to get called to go on a mission any moment now.”

“Steve!” you huffed, “you literally just got back, like, two hours ago. Can’t someone else go? Tony? Vision? Anyone?”

“I might’ve volunteered myself-“

“You’re unbelievable, Steve. Are you getting tired of me or something? You’ve been avoiding me like the plague ever since I moved in with you. If I upset you, or you’re gonna propose to me or something, can you just tell me?”

“I promise you it’s not personal at all,” he reached for your hand and gently held it. “Everything’s just been crazy. I mean, these Hydra bases have been popping up left and right. Just give me a little grace, okay? I don’t get upset with you when SHIELD starts making you work those ungodly hours.”

You opened your mouth to debate him, but surely enough, the canny and familiar ringtone of Steve’s work phone interrupted you before you could even begin.

“Okay… Yeah. I’ll be there in thirty.”

You frowned at Steve as he spoke on the phone and shook your head disapprovingly, “unbelievable,” you muttered, storming in the direction of your home.

——

Steve was no fool, he knew when he messed up, and he was more than willing to take responsibility for such. Now was one of those times. He knew that he should’ve been making more time for you. He was well aware that he shouldn’t have gotten defensive when you pointed this out.

He just had no idea how to apologize.

You weren’t exactly making it easy for him either, taking much longer hours in an attempt to avoid him. While he could understand your frustrations, it became a little more difficult everyday for him to properly apologize to you in a way he felt was meaningful.

Eventually figuring to use your avoidance as a tool, Steve devised a plot to make an apology for you so considerate, so superb, that you could never be angry with him again. A plot that included a several course meal, all concocted by himself.

He could imagine the look on your face as you came home from work, shocked, but the good kind of shock. Pleasantly surprised that your sweet boyfriend had put in such a huge amount of effort to say sorry.

He couldn’t help but imagine the scenario: you would relax into your seat at the table after Steve pulled out the chair for you, hum in content as he poured your favorite wine. Moan happily at the taste of a homemade and rarely prepared salad dressing, before complimenting the melt-in-your-mouth entree he had spent an unknown amount of time laboring over. Finally, you’d gush over the dessert that Steve hadn’t had the chance to cook in years, tell him that he worked far too hard putting everything together, especially for a little argument. Steve would scoff, tell you you’re being too kind, and you would pull him in for a red wine and dark chocolate flavored kiss.

The thought of you, your genuine and warm smile after a long day at work, and an even longer week worth of unspoken tension between you both, was enough to keep Steve motivated through the hours he spent preparing your meal.

He greeted you at the door like an excited puppy as soon as he heard your keys jingle. Sure, work had kept you a bit longer than he’d expected, and your food was likely a little cool by now, but he was excited to make amends.

However, you did not seem to share the same enthusiasm as Steve.

“Welcome home, gorgeous. Come sit,” Steve nudged you into the dining area, and you sluggishly followed, exhausted from a tiring day of training new agents.

“What’s wrong?” he inquired, pulling out a chair that you didn’t even attempt to sit down on.

“I had a really long day. I kinda just wanna get to bed,” you shrugged before rubbing your creased temple.

Steve internally cringed at the thought of all of his hard work going to waste. For some reason, he’d not envisioned this less pleasant outcome before. “Sweetheart,” he began in a nearly whiny tone, but you weren’t in much of a mood to be persuaded.

“I’m sorry. Weird things were happening at work that I don’t care to get into now, and honestly, I’m not even that hungry,” you reached out and gave Steve’s hand a little squeeze. “But it all looks and smells so good! I Promise I’ll warm some up tomorrow for lunch.”

“I-,” he paused, “please. Maybe you could just take a few bites of everything. It took me a really long time to get everything prepped and ready.”

You frowned at the plea, feeling a bit guilty but almost… satisfied at the same time. Steve struggled to make time for you because of his work, and now he was getting a little taste of his own medicine.

“I really am sorry. But hey, now we’re even?” you offered with a playful wink, slipping away before you gave your partner a chance to respond. You truly didn’t have the energy for a four course meal that night, let alone another argument.

——

Wanda was silent for a moment as she sipped from a mug of coffee, watching you with a suspiciously focused look on her face.

“Wanda?” you prompted, seemingly snapping her out of whatever trance she had found herself in.

“Oh my God, I know exactly what you guys need,” she just about blurted, reaching across the café table to grab your hand.

“Were you reading my mind?”

Your friend didn’t respond, but the devious smirk on her face was enough of an answer.

“What happened to telling me before reading me?”

“You just looked like there was a lot on your mind. And absolutely no way that you’d tell me,” she shrugged nonchalantly.

“Of course I was gonna tell you! Why else would I ask my friend in a cute relationship to meet me for coffee?”

“Because you like me?”

“No, never that. I just needed advice,” the two of you shared a laugh for a moment.

“Well don’t waste your breath. When Vis and I had a rough patch, we just had to learn each other’s love languages. You’d be surprised just how much that synthezoid values those acts of services.”

“And you?”

“I’m a words of affirmation girl myself,” she shrugged. “You should find out yours, and try to figure out Steve’s. I guarantee it’ll be helpful in the long run. I can send you guys a test, if you want?”

“Oh god no, please don’t tell him that I told you about us. Actually, I didn’t even tell you! You were digging around in my brain, and I don’t appreciate that. Just do me a favor, and don’t share this with anyone, okay?” You paused dramatically, then leaned in to speak to your friend in a whisper, “but send me that test when you get the chance.”

Gift Giving

“A little reality-warping birdie told me you’ve been having some relationship problems,” Tony said teasingly once Bruce left the conference room, leaving him and Steve alone.

Steve paused for a moment, trying to decide whether he should lie or fess up to the allegation. “How did she know?” Steve finally responded, standing up and pushing the chair he was sitting on behind him.

Tony shrugged dismissively, “I don’t ask these kinds of things. I just hear in passing that the geriatric is having a hard time and tune in.”

Steve shook his head slightly, rolling his eyes to mask his clear embarrassment.

“Well, is it true?”

“We’ve just been having the occasional… rift. A little more than occasionally.”

Tony nodded, fake pondering the situation, “well, I always know what I do for Pep, at least after I tell her I’m getting rid of the suit. Go buy her something nice. Really nice, like jewelry, or a purse if she’s into that kind of thing. I would say a car, but I know that Social Security check isn’t getting you too far. You know what? Put it on the company card. My treat.”

Steve wanted to scoff, turn his nose up at the offer like it was a terrible idea, but it really wasn’t. Maybe a material surprise was the way to win you back. He made a soft ‘hmph,’ noise as he mulled it over. “That’s definitely not your worst idea. Thanks,” he gave his teammate a soft smile before collecting himself and heading out of the conference room.

His first stop after work was some local jeweler. Steve threw on a (not very) inconspicuous outfit before entering the building, where he browsed for a good hour, searching for something that he believed you’d like. After looking at more jewelry than he had ever cared to see in his life, he decided on a necklace with a thin golden chain with a decent sized diamond hanging off of it. It was a little pricier, and you’d be able to tell— but he hoped it would help the gift mean more to you.

——

When you arrived home late that night, Steve was sitting in the living room waiting for you. It was almost daunting, the sight of him sitting alone on the couch mostly in the dark, only the television illuminating his face. He kind of reminded you of a parent waiting to confront their child who just snuck out, or a concerned friend seconds away from staging an intervention with you.

Walking past the room, you peeked your head through the doorway, and observed the flat, small box in front of him on the coffee table.

“Hey, Sweetheart,” he greeted, standing up so he could greet you with a hug and grabbing the little box as he did so.

“Is everything okay?” you probed, speaking into Steve’s shoulder.

“Of course. I just wanted you to know how much I love you, and that I’m sorry for not having as much time for you as I should,” he pulled away before holding the box out for you.

You hesitantly took the box and opened it, letting out a gasp when you viewed the delicate looking gold necklace.

You were having mixed emotions, because it was clearly beautiful and you were grateful to the gesture. But you knew that this must’ve been expensive, and that it was so unlike Steve to have done something like this. Your frugal, Great Depression era guy wasn’t exactly the most material.

“I love it,” you gushed, admiring the jewelry.

“Can I put it on you?” Steve asked, and received a nod in return.

Steve set the box down on the table and lifted up the necklace, bringing it up to your neck and focusing on clasping it in the back.

“Babe, how much was this?” you blurted, not even being able to filter the words before they left your mouth.

“Hmm? That doesn’t matter,” he dismissed, then stepped away from you to admire your clavicle.

“It just feels weird letting you spend so much on me.”

“It’s a gift, though. You’re not supposed to think about those things,” he hummed, pressing a chaste peck to your nose.

“Steve, I got you a Nespresso for Christmas and you wouldn’t stop complaining about how expensive it was. I love it, I really do. It’s beautiful and I’ll always think of you when I wear it. I just think that maybe we should have the same standards for each other,” you stood up from your seat and sidestepped him. “I need a shower.”

Steve watched you walk off, letting your words simmer in his thoughts.

That was the last time he would take relationship advice from Tony.

Words of Affirmation

This conclusion probably shouldn’t have taken you this long, but you were almost completely sure that this would be the love language to win Steve back over. You felt bad for some of the occurrences between the two of you lately, with sour exchanges and sweet moments that turned bitter on a whim.

In all honesty, you were concerned that Steve doubted your love for him. And if his love language really was words of affirmation, this would certainly convince him otherwise.

You sat at your desk the night before Steve departed for a two-week mission, trying to write a nice message for him. You tapped your pen on the stock paper in deep thought as you tried to figure out the best thing to say.

I’m sorry for arguing so much with you lately. You and everything that you do mean the world to me, even when you get on my nerves. I love you more than anything and that will never change.

The words looked cramped and unkempt on the little note. Your handwriting got messier as you went. You groaned at it, crumpled the paper, and tossed it in your trash bin. Time to start over again.

I’m sorry for arguing with you. I love you a lot. Can you stop picking up your phone when we’re spending time together?

You groaned at the passive aggressive tone of your message. That certainly wasn’t going to get you anywhere. Straight to the bin it goes.

I love you so much so don’t die on your mission or I’ll be pretty upset. Be safe out there xx.

The tone was even more off now. You needed to think of something that would really make Steve remember you while he was gone. For a second, you considered snapping a nude with a polaroid and attaching it to the letter.

I’m sorry that things have been so bad nasty for us lately. I promise that I love you, despite our ups and downs. Nothing will ever change that. I’ll miss you more than you know while you’re gone. Make sure you call me every day, my love.

A little cheesy, but you signed off with your name regardless, and contentedly looked at your work. The spacing looked correct, the tone wasn’t harsh, and you knew for a fact that Steve would appreciate it.

You stayed up a little later than normal, waiting for Steve to get home and change out of his ‘work clothes’ so that you could slip the note into his utility belt.

You folded the note to a small little square and set it beside an granola bar in a pocket you’d assumed he frequently used. Content with your work, you laid back in bed until your partner slipped in bed beside you, and sleepily cuddled into you until you were both unconscious.

—

Around two weeks had passed since Steve had seen you last, and he had decided to stop by the office and finish up paperwork before coming to see you. It had been radio silence on his end, despite the note in his clothing that clearly requested daily contact. Part of you wondered if Steve had seen it at all.

Steve had just finished signing the documents when he finally noticed it, reaching into a sparsely used part of his belt to have a quick snack. His hand landed on a folded piece of paper, and he cringed as he unfolded it, the letter becoming clearer and clearer as he did so. He wondered just how long the message had been waiting for him.

He read your sweet words with a frown on his face, the guilt from not opening it sooner overriding the sweet feelings that he would otherwise have. He grabbed his phone and considered texting you, but abandoned that thought altogether.

“FRIDAY, any idea where Y/N is right now?”

“I was told not to share any information about Ms. L/N, Captain Rogers.”

“Whose orders?” Steve pressed.

“Hers,” the bot quipped back.

Steve groaned aloud. He was really in for it tonight.

Physical Touch

“Have you tried touching her more?” Thor casually queried. The water that Steve had just consumed nearly flew out of his nose, and his cheeks reddened instantly.

“Pardon?” he asked, looking away from his friend instantly.

“I understand that you and Y/N have been having troubles lately. Perhaps she does not feel held by you. Maybe she wants you to show her off in public, to hold her hand, hug her,” he suggested.

Could Steve even be blamed for going there? He was having a chat with a god of fertility. Who wouldn’t think the same?

“Stark’s gala tonight. Show the world that she’s yours, and I guarantee that she’ll love every moment of it.”

——

You were confused. Really confused.

The night began with some simple touches, hand holding as you entered the building, a casual arm around your waist as you chatted with donors and politicians you hadn’t seen in months, a playful match of footsie under the table while waiting for food. But it came to a head when Steve had decided to rest his hand on your ass and grope you in the midst of a conversation.

Now, in any other situation, you would welcome this affection. But both you and Steve had never been a fan of PDA, and this was a bit too far.

As subtle as you could manage, you pushed his hand away, offering him a sour look as you did so.

“Excuse us,” you told some rich old man in an artificially sweet tone before ushering Steve off to his office for a bit more privacy.

“What was that about?” you questioned, sitting down in the padded chair behind Steve’s desk, and running your fingers over your necklace in a bit of a nervous tick.

“What do you mean?” he retorted, standing across from you at the desk and setting his hands on top of the clear table.

“Why were you groping me in front of people? That’s really... unlike you. And it made me uncomfortable.”

Steve frowned genuinely, looking down at the table in embarrassment. “I’m really sorry. For making you uncomfortable. It sounds ridiculous but I was just trying something new.”

“Apology accepted, but are you sure? You weren’t like, jealous of those guys or something? You know you’re the only hundred year old I have eyes for,” you set your hands atop of his and squeezed.

Steve chuckled at this, the flush of his cheeks only highlighted more by the laughter, “it’s just that, uh, Thor told me I should try showing you off more. Or something like that.”

“So you groped me in front of our guests? That’s silly. And a little unprofessional,” you glanced over at the cork board on his desk sitting next to his desktop, and amongst the neatly arranged scratched out to-do lists and random reminders, you couldn’t help but notice the creased paper of the note you’d left for his mission. Your chest warmed when your eyes fell upon it.

“When did you find this thing?” you asked, pointing to the note.

“I meant to say something, but when I found it, FRIDAY said you didn’t want to talk to me. SO I was going to bring it up when I got home, but you were still working. After that, I kinda… you know-”

“Forgot?” you finished with a hearty laugh, “It’s fine. You’re such a dork. C’mere so I can get my own groping in,” you chided, grinning to yourself when Steve wrapped his arms around you in a tight embrace.

Acts of Service

Steve was quietly folding your laundry in your bedroom when it finally occurred to you, but when it did, it hit like a ton of bricks.

Steve’s love language was acts of service!

Things suddenly began to make sense to you, the way that he initially attempted to apologize by spending hours cooking one meal, how he consistently worked to make your life as comfortable as possible, and his great insistence to do house chores, despite you being more than capable.

Steve set down a stack of folded sweatshirts by your calf, snapping you away from your brief retrospective daze. If that really was the case, and Steve’s love language truly was acts of kindness, you had to come up with some sort of plan to communicate to him just how much you cared about him in a way that he really appreciated.

Luckily for you, you were a quick thinker. Before you even knew it, a week filled with random acts of kindness before he was off on yet another mission was quickly hatched.

——

You were up at the ass-crack of dawn. Really. Steve liked to get up earlier than the sun in order to run, or train, or whatever the hell it was that superheroes did. You were seriously regretting your decision to wake up around the same time as him in order to do some favors for him in the morning.

By the time Steve was back from his run, his favorite coffee was brewed and cooling, and you were in the laundry room at the dryer, preparing to give Steve a warm towel after his shower.

Despite the three mugs of coffee you’d just downed, it was becoming more and more difficult to keep your eyes open. It didn’t help that your eyelids felt like they weighed fifty pounds each, and the warmth of the dryer next to you was providing you with just enough comfort to drift off.

And drift you did. In fact, half an hour later, you’d missed the frantic calling out for you from your boyfriend as he searched for you around the apartment.

You finally awoke when he shook your shoulders, his amused voice bringing you back to consciousness.

“What’s going on here?” Steve grinned, pushing some hair out of your face.

“Mmm,” you began, “Iwantedtogetawarmtowel,” you slurred sleepily and incoherently.

“Even with super hearing I couldn’t decipher that. Let’s get you a mattress, okay?” Steve hoisted you up like you were nothing, and carried your half asleep body all the way up to your bedroom.

The next thing you knew, you were buried under your favorite comforter and propped against a mountain of feathery pillows. A gentle forehead kiss and an incomprehensible sentence about calling off of work for you later, you were back in a deep sleep.

So much for warm towels.

—

You were going to do better this time. That’s what you told yourself as you strolled through the grocery store, the same store that you hadn’t shopped in since moving in with Steve, as he preferred to do the shopping himself.

Equipped with a short paper list and sheer determination to make the trip as short and accurate as possible, you gathered all of the groceries that you believed were necessary— just enough to restock the fridge, and fill some gaps left in the cupboard.

Your time at the store was indeed brief, as you found yourself in the checkout lane after just twenty minutes (you definitely weren’t going to brag about that to Steve later. Definitely not), and back home with just enough time to unload the groceries, and further prep yourself to go to work.

You’d honestly forgotten about your trip to the store by the time that you arrived home, up until you found your boyfriend arm deep in your pantry, hellbent on finding… something.

“Can I help you?” you poked with a laugh, coming up beside Steve and peeking over his shoulder.

“I’m just… Did you happen to grab any protein bars while you were at the store?” he asked, pausing his search to look back at you.

“I don’t think so. Why? It’s not like you need any more protein,” you teased, squeezing a bicep to demonstrate your words.

“They’re pretty convenient when I’m out in the field. Don’t worry about it, though. I’ll just swing by the store and grab some before my mission tomorrow. Actually, I should probably go now. Y’know, before I forget,” Steve was already grabbing his car keys from the counter by the time his sentence was finished, leaving you to fight off your disappointment at your minor grocery store failure.

You looked at what you now knew was an insufficiently filled pantry and pinched the bridge of your nose. You had seriously underestimated the ins and outs of shopping for a super soldier.

Well, third time’s the charm?

—

After this week, you would never complain about waking up early again. You were now up at an absolutely ungodly hour, scrambling eggs, flipping pancakes, and spreading jam on toast for a sleeping, unsuspecting Steve.

You placed the plate on a sturdy wooden tray, poured orange juice and an extra glass of water, and set a nicely folded napkin, along with utensils, next to the items.

You hoped that the scent of bacon wafting up to your bedroom would eventually pull him out of his slumber, and seeing how bacon was the only thing left to finish cooking, you took a little break.

A round of Candy Crush turned into two, then three, and goddamnit, why can’t you beat this fourth level! You got so wrapped up in your mobile game that you didn’t even notice when the scent from your kitchen became slightly rancid, and when you rushed over to the oven to check on your now extremely burnt bacon, the smoke detector wailed.

You grabbed a kitchen towel and waved your arms like a madwoman near the smoke detector, the shrieking eventually stopping, but not before Steve was halfway down the stairs.

“Y/N, where are you? Is everything okay?” he nearly shouted, racing down the stairs and barreling through the smoky kitchen to find you. When he reached you, he wrapped his arms around your waist and began to pull you out of the kitchen.

“Steve, relax. Everything is okay. Except those pieces of bacon,” you rubbed your now sweaty palms on your pajama pants before breaking away from him to crack open the kitchen window.

“Christ, what happened? And why are you up so early?”

“I was trying to make you breakfast in bed,” you admitted, rather embarrassed by the dramatic scene you’d accidentally created. “Sorry,” you muttered.

Steve wrapped his arms around you once more, this time in a reassuring bear hug that left your cheeks pressed to his chest. “Don’t be. I really appreciate this, and everything else you’ve done this week. It’s the thought that counts, right?”

“I guess,” you mumbled into his shirt.

“Besides, everything else looks delicious. And you tried your best for me while trying something new. I think that’s really sweet of you.”

“Really?” you pried, looking up at him.

“Really,” Steve confirmed.

“Well, I think it would be really sweet of you if you went back to bed and got all cozy so I can take care of you.”

Steve chuckled softly, pressed a little kiss to your nose, then nodded, “yes ma’am.”

Quality Time

Steve had been in a bubbly mood since getting back from his mission, and for no particular reason. It wasn’t like you weren’t happy that your partner was happy, but feeling like you were out of the loop was slightly concerning.

Before you could let your thoughts run too wild, you decided to pop the question during one of your evening walks.

“Okay Steve, what is going on with you?” you asked, veering to the side of the trail when a biker rode past you.

“Nothing big. Nothing too important. I’m just out of service for the next three months,” Steve said casually, playing it cool.

“What?!” you paused, your brows raising and eyes widening in surprise as you searched his face for sincerity. “You’re serious?”

“Serious as a heart attack.”

“Steve!” you gasped happily, nearly roaring out his name in excitement. “Why didn’t you tell me earlier?”

“I was going to tell you before wining and dining you, but you beat me to it. So…?”

“…So I’m happy to have you back. I may need you to negotiate some time away from work for me in the next few months, then. I don’t wanna miss this preview of stay-at-home-dad-Steve.”

“Hey, don’t push it.”

“Oh, I’m planning on pushing it.”

Epilogue

The sun was beating down on you, but the soothing breeze that flowed past your checked blanket every so often provided a pleasant antidote to the summer heat.

You’d truly picked the best day for a picnic.

Despite spending a good amount of time with your partner, the last month and a half had truly felt like a whirlwind. You casually started looking for a forever home, found yourselves making plans for an early retirement, and you had a new, sneaking suspicion that a proposal was on the horizon.

In the midst of it all, Steve had suggested that the two of you take a midday tryst at your local park and throw yourselves a little picnic. Of course you obliged, because when your greek god of a boyfriend suggests going on a spur of the moment date, you agree.

You now watched the nearly cloudless sky with pure, unadulterated feelings of content and joy while Steve set a slice of cheese on a cracker, leaning over your body to feed you. As you opened your mouth, Steve paused abruptly at the soft vibration coming from his pocket.

Steve resumed as if nothing had changed, popping the cracker into your open mouth and letting his phone continue to ring.

“Don’t you wanna get that?” you questioned.

“It can wait,” Steve stated nonchalantly, slipping his phone out of his pocket and pressing decline with absolutely no hesitation before tossing the device to the edge of your blanket.

You didn’t realize how long you’d been waiting to hear those three words.

-------

a/n: this could’ve been solved in like 20 minutes by sitting down and taking a love language quiz together

#steve rogers x reader #steve rogers x you #steve rogers x y/n #chris evans x reader #chris evans x you #avengers fanfiction #steve rogers fluff #steve rogers fanfiction #captain america x reader #captain america x you

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skzsauce01 · 4 years ago

Text

God’s Menu

Synopsis: Two chefs face off in the final dessert round. Who will come out on top, and who will be the next Cooking God? Cooking competition AU inspired by Chopped. Possible cooking/baking inaccuracies.

Warning: none

Word Count: 6.6k

Pairing: fem!reader x chef!Felix

“Who will win and become the next Cooking God?”

This is not a laughing matter, but your nerves about the situation think otherwise. The bright lights of the studio kitchen and the multitude of cameras pointed at you make your pulse thrum at an even quicker pace than the last two rounds. With your opponent in front of you and the host right beside you, you grow increasingly on edge. It’s becoming more real by the second — a chance to win ten million won, your dream of opening your own bakery being fulfilled, your future studded with three Michelin stars.

You would say you didn’t know whether to laugh or cry at such a wild scenario, but clearly your body has already decided on that.

Since you’ve already bursted out laughing on the last two takes, you can’t exactly do it again. It’s so difficult though. The host Park Jae is chatty and humorous behind the scenes, but the solemn way he delivers the cheesy line is such a big contrast to himself. It doesn’t help that you can see his jaw trembling as he holds back his laughter. It’s almost an invitation.

With the grin on your face barely concealed, you say, “I will.”

In front of you, Chef Lee Felix replies, “Not a chance,” in an extra deep voice, his thick Australian accent shining through, taunting you to give up your cracking charade of calm.

“Chefs, open your baskets.”

“Cut!”

As soon as the clapper is dropped, all three of you let loose into peals of laughter. Jae and Felix clutch onto each other for support, and you grab the nearby edge of the work surface to steady yourself. It’s all so silly. You wonder if Jae is like this on all episodes of God’s Menu or if he simply finds you and Felix especially fun to be around. Felix is a charmer, but you’re not certain if you feel that way because he’s rather attractive, the head chef of the two Michelin star restaurant Levanter, or simply because you feel like your insides have been reduced to cotton candy ever since you stepped inside the studio. Either way, the combination of you, Felix, and Jae has not been easy for the filming crew.

However, as the director calls for you and Felix to head to your stations, you steel yourself for the most important part of the competition. You glance at Felix once more to see how he’s faring, and he mouths, “Good luck,” at you. You smile back and hope that it’s reassuring enough.

“And… action!”

Jae resumes his professional television persona from the far end of the studio where the judges are sitting. “Chefs, open your baskets.”

With unsteady hands, you pull apart the flaps of the giant wicker basket. Then you immediately grimace once you see the four ingredients you have to use in your dessert. Strange foods are part of the competition, but you are always surprised by some of the things the producers put in the basket.

“You have to make a dessert with camel milk…”

You have used cow milk, goat milk, sheep milk, even buffalo milk once, but never camel. Hopefully, it has a similar composition and taste to one of those.

“Rose syrup…”

This is an ingredient you use daily in the upscale restaurant you work at, so you can possibly modify one of your recipes if the other two ingredients aren’t too absurd. Macarons will take too long, so maybe a decadent flourless rose and chocolate cake. You could easily incorporate the camel milk into a dense, fudgy cake.

“Beer flour…”

Never mind on the flourless cake. The cake idea may still be possible, but what on earth is beer flour? If it tastes anything like beer though, you might have to nix the idea altogether.

“And jalapeños.”

They are bright red and thus, extra spicy. Your first instinctive is to candy them and to use them as a garnish on your maybe-cake. The spice would cut through the sweetness and richness of the cake as well.

“Forty minutes on the clock, and your time starts… now!”

Your previous nervousness dissipates completely. Compartmentalizing while cooking, or soon to be baking in this case, has always been a relatively easy feat for you; your mind forgets the rest of the world and refocuses on the task at hand.

While Felix heads straight to the pantry for his additional ingredients, you tear open the package of beer flour with your knife. Unfortunately for you, it smells exactly like old beer, so you forgo your initial idea. You warily eye the clock and calculate the time needed for the plan you have just created. If you’re quick in the kitchen, you could make a good tart. All the basket ingredients can easily be used for one purpose or another.

Yeah, you think you’ll do that.

As you rush to the pantry for some flour, butter, sugar, and vanilla for your shortbread tart crust, Felix walks past you with a sheet of puff pastry and a carton of cream. You wonder what he’s going to do with his repertoire of skills. Hand pies? Strudels? Something completely out of the box?

You push those thoughts out of your head and gather your ingredients for the crust along with the ones for the chocolate cream filling. The cameraman following you takes several steps back as you stack containers in your arms. You press down the topmost one with your chin and carefully balance them as you speed back to your work station. Fortunately, yours is the closest to the pantry.

While the flours, butter, sugar, and vanilla are being combined together in the stand mixer, you begin slicing your jalapeños before candying them in a pan with some sugar. After a moment’s hesitation, you add in a splash of rose syrup as well to further accentuate the flavors in the rose glaze. You hear a crash of metal on your left. Felix has set a pan on his stovetop and is dropping a handful of sliced jalapeños into his pan.

It’s never early too early to start getting your presentation dishes, is it?

You walk past him — “Behind, Chef” — and peer inside to confirm that he is also making candied jalapeños. It’s a little concerning that you and he have similar elements in this round since the judges may deem the idea “uncreative.” If push comes to shove, you can probably transform the peppers into something else, but you have no idea what else to do with them now. Instead, you grab four ceramic tart pans and head back to find that your dough is fully combined.

As you press a layer of the dough into the bottom of your pans, you overhear the panel of judges speculating over your and Felix’s desserts. Park Jihyo, a celebrity chef known for her wide variety of kimchi dishes, points out that both chefs appear to be making candied jalapeños. Jae mentions something about Felix possibly putting it between his puff pastry like a sandwich. Could he be making a dessert sandwich with puff pastry as the bread? You can’t help yourself. A quick glance over at Felix and then upwards towards the wall-mounted clock informs you that he is pouring something into his blender and that you have thirty-three minutes left, neither of which are helpful.

You place the pans on a baking sheet and slide the tray into the oven to bake. You take a sip of the camel milk, which tastes a little nutty and will work nicely in the pastry cream filling. As the milk and heavy cream heats up, you chop a dark chocolate bar to add into the mixture to melt. The main reason why you decided on a chocolate cream filling is because one of the judges, Lee Chaeryeong, is a self-proclaimed chocoholic as well as a renowned chocolatier and baker. If you can impress her with your dessert, everyone will flock to your bakery.

Being the head pastry chef at Hero’s Soup is fun, but to have full creative control and to make whatever you want, is what you truly desire. You have a menu already drawn up, paint colors selected, and even a storefront scoped out. All you need now is a lot of money to get it opened. Chef Lee Felix and his dish are the only thing standing in your way. He may have gotten his start as a pastry chef, but you have spent the last several years being one at a top restaurant. Only one Michelin star, you admit, but you know your work is superb. The critics at Clé magazine said so.

You whisk in the sugar and slowly add your beaten eggs into the chocolate mixture. You don’t want to risk having bits of scrambled egg in the tarts. After you mix it all until it turns smooth, you check your tart crust in the oven. It’s done blind baking, so you take it out to cool before filling it with your filling. In the meantime, you work on the rose flavored cream to be piped on top.

“Behind,” calls Felix.

As you run back to your station with a carton of whipping cream, Felix heads to the ice cream machine with his blender container. He pours his light pink mixture in. Rose ice cream, it seems, will be in his dessert. Rather unhelpfully to you and more for the cameras, Jae announces that Felix’s dish will feature ice cream.

“An ice cream sandwich maybe with the puff pastry he has in the oven?” he adds.

That certainly is a dessert sandwich. You can’t help but look at the judges’ reactions to that suggestion.

Ok Taecyeon, chef and owner of the Japanese restaurant Winter Hitori, seems pleased by that idea. “Or maybe a mille feuille,” he says as he cranes his neck to look at the ingredients at Felix’s station, “with ice cream instead of pastry cream.”

A mille feuille and a tart are pretty different from each other, but you don’t miss your dessert’s similarities to his. Unoriginality aside, this could become a direct comparison of technical abilities. You’re certain you’ve got him beat on that.

You pause on your rose cream to fill your empty tart shells with the chocolate filling. There is an audible gasp from Chaeryeong as she sees the silky smooth texture being poured into each pan. How can you blame her when you yourself are mesmerized by the shine of it?

“Chocolate’s on the menu!” Jae exclaims. “How do you think it will go with all of the mandatory ingredients?”

You suppress a smile at her excitement as she details the finer points of chocolate pairings. Without a doubt, she is the one you must impress. It won’t be an easy feat, but you think she’ll enjoy your dish.

You stick the now filled tart shells back into the oven to bake. Fifteen minutes left, and not only does the filling have to be baked through completely, it has to cool down with adequate time so you can pipe on the cream. The giant bowl of rose cream is completed and set aside.

Now the only thing left for you to finish are your candied jalapeños, which you should have paid more attention to because they are on the verge of being burnt. The sugar and rose syrup have caramelized into a dark brown mess around the edges of the pan, and the red peppers have gone mushy. At that moment, the camera leans in to get a closeup of the disaster and captures you loudly swearing at it.

They can censor that in post-production.

"Behind. All good?" Felix asks as he rushes by with a casserole dish for ice cream collection. You hope his ice cream base didn't work.

"Mostly."

Jae's theatrical whisper and the approved hums from the judges inform you that Felix’s ice cream did turn out beautifully.

"Behind," he says again.

"Heard."

With an exasperated sigh, you set the ruined pan aside and turn back to your cutting board. You had the foresight to not use all of the peppers, but two measly ones are not going to be enough for the amount you want on each tart.

“Hey,” you shout to Felix, hoping that he can hear you over the whir of his food processor, “you have any jalapeños left over?”

He pushes the plastic container with one finger a smidge in your direction as he pulls off the parchment paper over his freshly baked puff pastry. “Take it.”

With a sigh of relief, you walk over to grab them. You expertly chop them into neat slices and throw them into a new pan. A sprinkling of sugar, a circle of rose syrup, and a turn of the stove knob later, the jalapeños are being candied, hopefully properly this time. As you wait, you check your baking tarts. They are still not done yet, which is to be expected but bothersome.

“Ten minutes left on the clock!”

The nervousness is back, and you whisper, “C’mon, c’mon,” at the oven door like it will encourage the tarts to cook faster. After letting yourself stare for a few more seconds because maybe they’ll suddenly be done in that short time, you pop back up to check on your peppers. They, fortunately, are turning out well. You turn down the heat so as to not let the syrup turn into rock candy as you wait for those cursed tarts to be done. Why did you decide on something so risky? Why couldn't you have done a puff pastry crust and not spend ten precious minutes fiddling around with the dough?

Because of the beer flour and because your pride demands that you prove your skills to all the talented chefs, that's why.

Another minute passes, and you drain the pan of the liquid and let the peppers cool down. Felix keeps running back to the pantry for more ingredients, and the judges voice their disapproval at that. You feel a breeze brush across the back of your neck as he dashes back to his station. It’s never a good sign when chefs grab last-minute items; it either means they’re behind schedule, forgot a component of a key element, or about to screw up whatever they have already made in an attempt to fill up time. Or maybe you’re just being cynical. All your nerves are on fire at the moment. Jihyo and Taecyeon soon turn their attention to you when they realize that your tarts are still in the oven.

“You can’t just look at them all day!” Jihyo exclaims at your crouching position.

She’s right, so you make a quick decision: finish these underbaked tarts in the microwave. You flounder for a towel, pull open the oven door, and walk to the microwave as you fast as you can with a tray of steaming hot pans. As all of the tarts are being cooked, you run back to your station to fill a pastry bag of your rose cream. You have six and a half minutes left, and if you’re quick, you can stick the tarts in the blast chiller to cool a little bit. Never mind that putting hot desserts into a freezer is considered blasphemous, you have a competition to win.

The microwave loudly beeps, and you run back to cart them back onto the baking sheet and shove them in the blast chiller. They could still be underdone for all you know, but that’s a risk you have to take. It will still be delicious at least. Felix decides to grab yet another ingredient, and you watch with interest as he selects a bunch of basil. You can’t say whether rose and basil is a good combination, but you trust that he has an idea of what he’s doing. He flashes you a panicked smile as he runs back. It’s the perfect embodiment of your current emotions.

“Less than five minutes, chefs!”

You’re certain the judges mean well when they begin to shout at you about starting on plating, but it only makes you more anxious. You keep watch of the clock, precious seconds disappearing in front of your eyes. Once it hits two minutes, you’ll take them out. Piping pastry cream is so easy, you could do it in your sleep. Garnishing should be simple too. You can do this.

Taecyeon yells, “There’s no time! Get it together!” exactly when there are three minutes left. One more agonizing minute later, you take out the tarts and head back to your station with the same kind of balancing act you performed when you made a mad dash to the microwave. At first glance, it appears the chocolate cream filling has set and cooled, but who really knows? You pick up your pastry bag and start squeezing fat dots in a crescent on the tops of each tart. The pink cream looks beautiful against the dark chocolate.

“Less than thirty seconds remaining!” shouts Jae.

“I can’t watch,” Chaeryeong declares. “Hurry!”

With a slightly shaky hand, you place your candied peppers on each dollop, grimacing when some of them are just the tiniest bit askew. You quite literally have no time to fix them though. A millisecond after you finish setting the last one, Jae calls out for you and Felix to stop cooking. You throw your hands up, showing that you have stopped. Then with a sigh, you grasp the edge of the table and look down at the final desserts. They all look amazing, minus the imperfect pepper placements, on the outside, so you hope that the insides match, no gooey filling in the center. Out of curiosity, you glance over at Felix and catch him eying yours as well. His mille feuilles look stunning — light pink ice cream sandwiched between golden brown puff pastry, topped with a row of pastry cream, red jalapeños, strawberries, and basil so finely chopped, you can barely see it.

You and Felix meet in the middle and nearly collapse on top of each other. He pulls you in more a congratulatory hug, and your unease about your dessert disappears for a second. His hold is strangely comforting considering you have only met him today. You could stay here all day. Then you remember that all of this is being filmed and that you’re hugging Chef Lee Felix, and your pulse jumps.

“We’re done now. Nice job,” he says. He pulls away and observes your frozen expression. “No laughing fits yet?”

A giggle escapes — they’re back and even worse than before, you can already feel it — and you clamp a hand over your mouth, embarrassed. “They’ve just started.”

“Good luck on the judging.”

“Yeah, you too.”

The director yells, “Cut!” and the moment is gone.

You and Felix idle around by the judges’ table as the production crew takes close-ups of the food. Felix easily makes conversation with all of the judges, especially Taecyeon. He smiles at the right parts, adds anecdotes when appropriate, and you wonder how he is so unphased by the dessert round. It’s all you can think about, replaying every single action you made.

“I can’t wait to try that chocolate tart,” Chaeryeong warmly says to you. “It looks amazing.”

Now all you can do is stare at her in disbelief with the silliest grin on your face. Felix gently nudges you to remind you to speak.

“I can’t wait for you to try it,” you hear yourself reply. It’s uncharacteristically high-pitched, and you feel yourself growing hotter despite the lack of harsh studio lights.

“The fourth one is for me, right?” Felix teases. “I want a bite of that too.”

“Only if I get some of your mille feuille,” you say. “It looks amazing.”

“What about me?” protests Jae, making everyone laugh.

Once the close-ups are completed, you and Felix return to your stations and make the dramatic walk to the judges’ table. The lighthearted atmosphere from before is gone, and your nerves are back in a completely different way. The anticipation from the beginning of the round is nothing compared to the fear you feel now. You stand tall with your hands behind you, the perfect picture of confidence, but behind the camera, you are twisting and knitting together your fingers. Felix, on the other hand, is solemn. Lucky him.

“In the dessert round,” Jae recites, “you were tasked to create a dish with camel milk, rose syrup, beer flour, and jalapeños. Chef Felix, what did you make for us today?”

With a steady voice, he answers, “Judges, I have made for you a rose and strawberry ice cream mille feuille topped with a strawberry rose syrup crumble, candied jalapeños, sliced strawberries, and some chopped basil. I hope you enjoy it.”

There’s a pause as the judges cut into the dessert and try it. Like in the previous rounds, their expressions are indecipherable as they chew and deliberate to themselves. Taecyeon is the first to speak.

“First off, your presentation is beautiful. Everything is very neat and precise, which shows your attention to detail. I especially love the basil. Not only does it complement the rest of the dish, it’s a nice addition of color to the plate.”

Chaeryeong nods. “I agree. Strawberry and basil is a classic combination, and I think you balanced those flavors very well. However, neither of those ingredients were in the basket.”

You can almost feel the temperature in the room drop at that revelation.

“Yeah, you definitely focused more on the pantry than the basket ingredients,” Jihyo adds. “Strawberry is the star of this dessert, and I wish you highlighted a basket ingredient instead, especially since you had so many good choices available. And ice cream wise, I think it is too sweet. And I can just barely taste the rose syrup in there.”

“Where is the beer flour in this?” Taecyeon asks as he lifts off the topmost layer of puff pastry. “Is it in the crumble?”

“Yes,” Felix quickly replies. “I didn’t like the flavor of the flour, so I decided it would be best to hide it with the strong syrup flavor.”

“You definitely did that well,” Taecyeon continues. “And your jalapeños are great, help cut through the sweetness of everything.”

It’s clear that there is nothing more to be said. You note that the baker of the trio of the judges said nothing negative about Felix’s dish.

“Thank you, Chef Felix,” Jae concludes. “Chef Y/N, what have you made for us today?”

There’s another cut as the production switches out the half empty plates for your tarts. Sensing your increasing anxiety, Felix reaches over and pats you on the shoulder.

“Good luck,” he whispers. “You got this.”

You can only give him a tentative smile in return before filming resumes. Jae repeats his line to help the transition.

“Judges, I have made for you a chocolate tart with a beer flour crust, rose pastry cream, and candied jalapeños. Please enjoy.”

Chaeryeong is the first to scoop into the tart with her spoon. When the spoon comes out clean and with a pile of solid chocolate tart, you breathe a sigh of relief. She mulls over it as she takes another bite, but Taecyeon already has one ready.

“This is rich and delicious.”

You stop wringing your fingers together. A smile is beginning to form on your face, and it takes some willpower to remain calm.

“I love the way you cut the beer flour with regular flour because let’s be real,” he continues, leaning in conspiratorially, “beer flour tastes pretty awful. I can still get some hints of it, but it’s not overpowering.”

Jihyo nods in agreement. “You have good textures, from the crunchiness of the tart shell to the silkiness of the filling. My only problem with your dessert is that it’s heavy. There’s a lot of chocolate and then you top it off with something pretty sweet. Your candied jalapeños do help, but the ratio of cream to peppers is off.”

Your joy wilts as you take in her comments. As much as you want for her to be wrong, you didn’t get a chance to eat your creation, so you can’t exactly deny it. However, everyone knows that the judge with the weightiest opinion in the dessert round is Chaeryeong. When you look over at her to see what she thinks, she is still picking apart the tart.

Jihyo, situated in between Taecyeon and Chaeryeong, nudges her. “Anything to add, Chaeryeong?”

She looks up at you, and you realize that likely already made a decision on her first bite. Her words are clear and decisive. “I think you made a lot of good choices. Finishing it in the microwave, using dark chocolate, incorporating the rose syrup in the candying process. I do agree with Jihyo that this is a little too rich though. Your rose syrup cream feels unnecessary, but overall, it’s a delicious dessert.”

Your heart is pounding. Everything feels hot, and you are suddenly hyperaware of the cameras around, waiting to capture your reaction. You remember your fiddling fingers and stop moving them.

“Thank you, Chef Y/N,” Jae says. “The judges need some time to deliberate the winner. Remember that the decision will be made on your dishes from all three rounds. Chefs, we will see you after.” He nods at you and Felix, and as per the instructions from the producers, you and Felix walk to the green room.

No other takes are needed. You follow behind Felix, wondering how he is still so poised after all of that. Inside the green room, there is a cameraman waiting, ready to film some commentary from you and Felix. You settle into a stool at the table, and he sits in front of you.

“You did a great job,” he says in an overly produced way. You bet he was rehearsing this. That’s what you should have been doing during his judging. Now your remarks won’t come out as smoothly. “I definitely focused on the pantry too much, but hopefully the other rounds will help me out. The beer flour really confused me.”

You swallow and try to concentrate on him instead of the tabletop. If you don’t get this right, you’ll have to redo it. “Yeah, definitely a tricky ingredient. It was smart of you to use it in your crumble. But yeah, I think we both did pretty good. May the best chef win.” You stick your hand out for him to shake, and he does.

“Cut,” interjects a producer. “Alright, that’s all for that scene. Let’s start on your interviews.”

You nearly forgot about those. You and Felix share glances, both of which are reluctant goodbyes, before being whisked away into separate rooms. As you sit in front of a green screen, you recount what you did in the dessert round, walking the audience through the choices you made and the emotions you felt. There’s a frenetic energy about you this time unlike the previous interviews after the appetizer and entrée rounds. You are so close to the ten million won, you can almost taste it.

Your interview takes almost all of the time. Just as you swallow your last sip of water, the producers are informed that the judges have finished discussing and that you are needed back to the kitchen studio. When you stand up, you nearly knock over the stool you were sitting on. The walk to the studio is longer than it was before, and you want to push the dawdling production crew aside so you can get there faster. Your heart pounds erratically underneath your mask of serenity.

Felix smiles at you from where he stands in front of the judging panel. The signature cloche of God’s Menu sits ominously from its location on the table, two spotlights illuminating its silver shine. Taecyeon, Jihyo, and Chaeryeong are getting last-minute makeup touches, and Jae is idling around, rereading his script even though he has said the lines numerous times before.

“Hey,” you greet Felix as you take your spot beside him. “You nervous?”

“Yeah. It all comes down to this, right? Ten million won and the title of Cooking God.” He says the last part like Jae does, no theatrics spared, and you laugh. It feels good to do so, like a small bit of tension has been released.

Someone adjusts the lights, and suddenly you and Felix are in the dark. Feeling a little courageous, you tell him, “No matter what happens, I just want to say that it’s been an honor competing against you. It’s been a lot of fun, and I think I’ve learned a few things from your cooking.”

“Same here. You’re an awesome chef and an even better person.” The lights shine back on you and Felix, and he sneaks a glance towards you after a producer calls a warning to begin shooting soon. “I’d say ‘good luck,’ but with the way you cook, I don’t think you’ll need it.”

Your face is as hot as an oven. “Thanks. Same to you.”

The clapper goes down. “Action!”

“Chefs,” Jae starts, “the judges have finished deciding. Let’s see who is our next Cooking God and who is getting ousted.”

His hand wraps around the handle of the cloche, and you hold your breath in anticipation. The sound of your pulse in your ears is deafening. You’re not one to wish for someone else’s downfall, but you hope that it’s Felix’s mille feuille underneath. Everything you have worked for today all comes down to this. You can’t lose. You knit and twist your fingers behind your back, and keep your eyes glued to Jae’s hand.

When you see the dish on the table and the judge’s impassive faces, you begin to cry. Your chest tightens, your throat suddenly has a cherry pit lodged inside, and your vision goes blurry. How funny that you start the round with laughter and end in tears. It’s all too poetic for such a moment.

“Chef Felix,” Jae solemnly says, “you have been ousted. Judges?”

You don’t hear what the judges have to say about Felix’s dishes from the past three rounds. All you can focus on is the wood paneling of the judges’ table as you stifle your bubbling sobs. It shouldn’t be too difficult, right? You suppressed all your laughs in the beginning, so this should be easy.

“It was an honor to cook for you today, judges,” Felix says after he has received all of their critiques. He turns to you and wraps in a warm embrace, making your flimsy grasp on your emotions disintegrate. “Congratulations. I knew you would win when I saw your dessert.”

“Thank you so much,” you whisper.

After he heads down the hallway to the green room to film his exit interview, the cameras are back on you and solely you. The judges give you encouraging smiles, Chaeryeong’s the largest.

“Chef Y/N, you are the new Cooking God,” Jae announces. “Congratulations.”

You wipe away your tears with the back of your hand in a vain attempt to make yourself appear more composed. However, when the applause begins, it all comes pouring out — your thanks, your appreciation, your rambles about the bakery you have planned.

“I’ll be sure to come by,” Chaeryeong says. “Your tart was your best dish of the day. If you put it on the menu, I’m definitely going to buy one.”

“Your creativity in all of the rounds was amazing,” Jihyo adds, “but dessert is really where you shine. Give us a call when your bakery is open.”

Taecyeon compliments your appetizer and also agrees with the other two. “Chef, you should be proud of yourself.”

You beam through your tears. For a momentous occasion, you half expect confetti to start raining down and a symphony to start playing. However, there is only production orchestrating a few more shots of you shaking hands with everyone and a closeup of your face. The small celebratory scene is over soon as you are led to another room for your victory interview. This one is easy, simply you expressing your joy and partially promoting your future business.

When you’re done, you are told to wait in the green room while they set up some paperwork for you to fill out later. To your surprise, Felix is there as well, sitting at the table with a tired look on his face. His water bottle is empty, and there is an unopened one next to it. When he sees that you are there, he lights up.

“Hey there, Cooking God,” he says. “Congrats again.”

“Hey. Thanks again.” You sit across from him and slump against the table. “I thought you would have left already.”

“I’ve got some paperwork to do and one more interview to finish up. You know,” he says, propping himself up on his arms, leaning forward, “I never got to try your tart. I was really looking forward to it.”

You can see yourself reflected in his eyes. He has very pretty eyes. “I never got to try your mille feuille either. Do you think production will be mad if we sneak back in and eat the leftovers?”

“We might have to dig through the trash, but I’m down.” He pulls back. “What are you going to do with the prize money, if you don’t mind me asking? I don’t think Jae asked you about it during the judging.”

So you tell him all about it. You tell him of the empty building on the corner of the street you have been eying for the last year, the late night hours you have spent experimenting with recipes, the white banner and silver ribbons you have envisioned for the grand opening of your dream. He listens intently, nodding along and cracking smiles when you draw the details in the air.

“Wow, you’ve got it all figured out already.”

“Yeah,” you agree, feeling flushed and breathless. “It’s been a long time coming.”

There’s a knock on the door, and a member of the production team pokes his head in. “Chef Lee Felix, we’re ready to shoot the interview now.”

Felix nods and stands up from his stool, taking the both water bottles with him. “I guess this is goodbye then. Good luck with everything.”

“What’s your number?” you blurt out before the nervous laughter starts up again. You just finished one of the most grueling cooking competitions in the country; asking someone for their number should be a cakewalk, but said someone also happens to be a highly esteemed chef. “I’d love for you to be at the grand opening.”

His mouth splits into a grin. He tears the label off of the empty bottle and asks the staff member if he has a pen. Then he scrawls down the digits and hands you the label, the fresh ink against the glossy paper shining underneath the lights.

“See you during the opening,” are his last words to you before he follows production out of the room.

You clutch the edge of the label and mouth the numbers to yourself, trying to commit them to memory. A needless action, but it feels right.

When you are called for paperwork and logistics, you carefully fold the paper and place it inside your chef jacket’s pocket, right by your heart. The check for eight million won — taxes unfortunately exist for prize money — goes in there as well.

The grand opening is a grand affair: customers flocking to the street corner in droves, a giant banner and even a red ribbon celebrating the occasion, and display cases being emptied throughout the day. As promised, Chaeryeong and Jihyo show up to the opening. The day is nearly over when they arrive; only a few people linger around, buying last-minute treats. You decide to close for the night.

Even though the two celebrity chefs say they have finished filming a new episode, they are both in high spirits. They bring along a plaque for you to hang that reads “God’s Menu Approved,” and you are both mortified and thrilled. Chaeryeong wants you to put the plaque in the window, but Jihyo insists you have it behind the counter. However, you don’t really want it in either location. Your office seems like a wonderful place.

“How about a tart?” you ask to distract them. “On the house, of course.”

They nod enthusiastically at the offer, and you set down two familiar-looking ones. “As seen on God’s Menu, the Dessert Round Tart, chocolate with rose-flavored cream and candied jalapeños.”

The bell on the door chimes, and a voice you have not heard in months says, “Any left for me?”

“Felix!” you exclaim, rushing to him. He’s still in his chef’s uniform, and you can almost smell sriracha on him. “How are you here? I thought you said you had a shift.”

He shrugs and smiles boyishly at you. It makes you all sorts of nervous, and your stomach flutters with something that is not laughter. “Surprise!”

“Let me go get you a tart,” you say as you lead him to the same table as Chaeryeong and Jihyo, both who recognize Felix from the show.

You head behind the counter and reach for the last tart left in your hidden stash of desserts. You saved three for the judges, but Taecyeon isn’t here. He is apparently in the midst of opening a new location, and you understand. After all, you’re doing something similar. It all works out in your favor though since Felix is. With more care than the previous two, you place the tart on a small plate and set it down in front of Felix.

“Here you go. Enjoy.”

He cuts into it with the fork and savors the first bite. “It’s even better than I thought it would be. This is amazing.”

“Definitely agree,” says Jihyo. Hers is completely gone, only the smallest crumbs left. “You’ve really refined it.”

Chaeryeong, mouth full of chocolate, can only nod in agreement. You smile, flattered by their compliments. After some pushing from the trio, you sit down with them to eat the leftover desserts from the day and to catch up. Chaeryeong and Jihyo are predictably busy with the filming of God’s Menu and overseeing their respective establishments. Meanwhile, Felix is still head chef of Levanter and has been tasked with adding something new to their menu. You tell them all about the beginning of the day and how a dog almost tore apart the low-hanging streamers outside. Felix sympathetically pats your hand. You then join in on the laughter, yours of which is more induced by his touch than the memory of the dog.

Some time later, Chaeryeong announces that she has to go, and Jihyo follows. You send them off with some lemongrass cupcakes and lie about where you will be displaying the plaque. No matter what, it’s going in your office where only you can see it. Felix stays around, and with everyone else gone, it’s just you and him.

“Hi,” you say, suddenly feeling shy. “You’re not leaving yet?”

He shakes his head. “I wanted to ask you something."

"Oh, what is it?"

"Since you still haven’t tried my mille feuille from the show and since Levanter needs a new menu item, would you want to help me sometime?” He pauses and grimaces at his words. “Wait, you’re probably busy with your bakery now and—”

“I’d love to,” you abruptly say. “Probably only taste testing though, if that’s alright. Business conflicts and all.”

Your favorite thing about Felix, you decide, is the way he lights up, the way the excitement emitting from him is palpable. With a tinge of red across his cheeks, he says, “I guess we’ll be seeing a lot of each other soon.”

You let out a short laugh. “I guess we will. I’m alright with that.”

“So am I.”

~ ad.gray

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blacksunscorpio · 4 years ago

Note

What does it mean when I have a Capricorn signature?

Signature Sign In Astrology

You might have heard the term signature sign thrown around if you’ve been studying astrology for a while. Others of you might not have heard if this concept at all. It isn’t as well-known, however, it can reveal significant information about you.

What it Means

To put it plainly, the astrological signature sign is the zodiac sign that’s the most specific to you and your character.

How to find it

It involves noting which element and quality/modality appear the most or has the most signs and then combining them into a zodiac sign which is taken to be the signature sign of the chart. It will be easy to do because certain characteristics of signs will repeat themselves. It’s the most frequent modality and element in your natal chart.

Ex. 1 A person has more fire signs than any other element, and more fixed signs than any other quality, then that person's signature is Leo. In some cases, there is no clear majority in either element or quality to give a clear signature. When this occurs, an individual has an Ambiguous Signature.

Ex. 2 Let’s say you are a Taurus Sun, a fixed earth sign. But many planets in mutable signs take up residence in your chart. In addition, you have a multitude of planets in water. This makes you feel like a Neptunian/Pisces, which is a mutable water sign. You might not have many or any for that matter significant placements in Pisces but somehow still identify with the qualities of the sign to a great extent.

How To Find It Cont.

You weigh the elements and modalities of the sign where a planet is located in your chart. Begin with the Sun, next Moon and repeat this process for all the planets in your natal chart: Mercury, Venus, Mars, Jupiter, Saturn, Uranus, Neptune, and Pluto. The ascendant and the Midheaven also have to be considered.

Signature Signs Through The Zodiac

Aries signature

If Aries is your signature sign, you are ambitious and have a strong will. Boss-like. Warrior. Killer instinct. Can sometimes be hot-headed and impulsive, it happens that you act before you think instead of the other way around which can get you into serious trouble. Don’t be Oberyn from GoT and get cocky now. However, you’re a born leader and like to initiate things. Taking action is your second nature. No one will ever pull the Hermit card or 4 of cups for you in a Tarot reading. Way too active. A straightforward sign, which sometimes blends into bluntness, bossiness, or take-no-prisoners attitude. Being independent is very important to you. You hate being told what to do. You like to work alone if you can. Competitive and brave, someone who loves new challenges. You love to win. Will always be after new opportunities to conquer.

Taurus signature

If Taurus is your astrological signature sign, you prefer to think before you act. Need a lot of time to make a decision, but once it’s done, nothing can make you change your mind. You are incredibly stubborn and persistent. Taurus is the sign of hedonism. If this is your signature sign in astrology, you know how to enjoy life. You appreciate good food, beautiful clothes, and everything luxurious. Taurus craves stability, both financially and emotionally. You are dependable and passionate. Love to cook and or shop for expensive and good quality things. Can be jealous in love or possessive as well. Bullheaded to the point of no return but just as ambitious when it comes to cultivating stability and wealth.

Gemini signature

If Gemini is your signature sign, you are curious, witty, and chatty. You are a great observant, someone who notices every detail, and then make a pun about it. Gemini is incredibly smart. They love to read and write, and they are usually talented when it comes to expressing themselves. However, Gemini because of their mercurial flighty nature can lack focus if they don’t reign it in somehow. This flightiness can give others the impression that they are sometimes superficial. You get bored veryyy quickly. Because of this, you need a lot of mental stimulation. Geminis are life-long learners, they are simply in love with knowledge. Need to be sure to keep that devil and angel [your twins] aligned so as to not make enemies or be seen as two-faced.

Cancer signature

If Cancer is your signature sign in astrology, you are a gentle soul. However, you become easily overwhelmed with others. Cancer is a crab and will retreat into its shell if it’s not in the mood to deal. Can be moody and or need a lot of time on your own, in the safety of your home. They like to be surrounded by family members. You are soft and caring. HIGHKEY intuitive and can sense the emotions of others easily [especially when developed.] They are extremely protective of their loved ones. Will pinch you with their claws if you mess with them or someone they care about.

Leo signature

If your signature sign is Leo, you have a big heart. Quite warm and sincere. Famous for its generosity. They, like Jupiterians like to give- especially in terms of love and affection. Leos need luxury around them. They are the royalty of the zodiac, right? They enjoy being around others, making people laugh and cheering them up. Have lots of energy but a big ego to go with it. They love attention and might court it often or simply get it naturally since the Sun is in the mix here. Too much of the negative manifestation of Leo can make one prone to arrogance, bossiness, and boastfulness. It’s important to realize that this wounds people around you. If you show others your soft side, they will give you all the love you crave.

Virgo signature

If Virgo is your signature sign, you are modest, effective, and helpful. Deeply analytical and process information at the drop of a hat. Productivity is very important to you. Virgos have a high attention to detail, and they solve problems by analyzing them. Rational and cerebral thinking is one of your greatest strengths. Quite reliable and have a strong sense of duty. Can be hyper-critical and a bit too compulsive in their tendencies. Prone to nervousness and anxious habits. However, this sign has a very powerful brain. They prefer thinking over feeling, which can be sometimes challenging for them.

Libra signature

If your signature sign is Libra, you’ll be quite elegant. Venusian, baby. No matter what they do, they’ll make sure to do it with their face on and in their best attire. Libras are graceful and charming. They have great social skills, and they get along with everyone. However, sometimes they don’t stand up for themselves even when they should or because they wish to avoid conflict at all costs. They can also be a bit superficial which might be perceived as “fake” by some. There’s a deep need to be liked. Quite good taste though. Keen artistic talents. Great diplomats and would do well as an ambassador or even in HR [actually, please think about getting into Human Resources, there are way too many pieces of shit in this particular department]. This sign strives to create harmony, both visually and in interpersonal relationships.

Scorpio signature

If your signature sign is Scorpio, you possess the qualities of Pluto. You have a deep mind, are intense and probing with perhaps a bit of a mysterious aura. You make a perfect detective. Nothing stays hidden. Quite loyal and passionate with intense emotions. Intuition is superb, but you are very sensitive at the same time. Scorpio can become obsessed with the object of their love. May be prone to jealousy in love or be quite ruthless and vengeful if slighted. It’s important NOT to get on this person’s bad side because Scorpios rarely [if ever] forgive. Is probably very sexual or unmatched in bed. Might end up rich [Pluto=wealth]. Might become a Mafia-boss. Might become a dictator. Might run a funeral home. Depends, lol.

Sagittarius signature

Expansion. Jupiter rules this sign and as a result one with this signature loves new experiences that aid them in understanding the world better. Optimistic and with a great sense of humor, people love being around them. They have high energy levels and they are always on the go. If your signature sign is Sagittarius, you have an unshakable faith in the universe. Philosophical prowess and an open mind with a streak of jolliness The sign of philosophy, and always looking towards the bright side. Might be blunt, unattached, and a bit dramatic or louder than most, however, lucky breaks might come often or in the nick of time. Makes sense since Jupiter rules luck.

Capricorn signature

If Capricorn is your signature sign, there are significant earthy vibes to you, no matter your actual sign. Said native is reliable, efficient, and incredibly meticulous, and high-key ambitious. There’s a great need for success that borderlines on obsession. They are empowered by executive achievements and accomplishments. Order, structure, and discipline are paramount. Capricorns are famous in astrology for being known as hard workers who put a lot of effort into achieving their goals. They do not give up. They will climb the ladder, do or die. Typically will be quite successful in life. Often accused of being cold or cruel. Hell, they might be. Still, they are in need and are deserving of love and commitment. Reliable in a relationship once they decide to stop restricting themselves of affection and give in.

Aquarius signature

Unique and eccentric, you always notice it when you meet an Aquarian. If Aquarius is your signature sign, you prefer to live life on your own terms. Freedom is your most important value in life. You enjoy being around like-minded people, even though your relationships are usually not of an emotional nature. Aquarius is the sign of brilliance in astrology. I always say that Aquarians have the highest levels of analytical intelligence but sometimes get written off because they can be weirdos lol. Mad scientist vibes. Wonderful ideas, fascinated by everything new and modern. Tech geeks. Aquarius is also the sign of humanitarian ideals. If you have this sign strong in your chart, you have a strong sense of justice.

Pisces signature

If Pisces is your signature sign, you have a very strong intuition. Quite sensitive to the point that all that white noise can easily overwhelm them. Hard to make out reality sometimes. Hence, Pisces needs to spend a lot of time alone in suspension thinking about things. Compassionate and have a strong sympathy for those suffering. Great healing abilities and an even greater imagination and creative streak. Probably feels quite good around water and can have a psychic knack with animals. Can be very musical and often have strong artistic talents. Be sure to tether yourself to this world so as to not float off. Escapism is okay but don’t escape reality too much. You may have come from another realm but in this incarnation, you were placed here for a reason. You belong here on earth with us ;).

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nonotranslates · 3 years ago

Text

ARB Event Translation: Eccentric Journey ~ The Forest where Dangerous Creatures Lives ~ - Chapter 3

This event heavily relies on sound and visual effects so please enjoy it alongside the game. [Link to gameplay video]

Chapter 3 - Exquisite! Cooking of 'Ancient Creatures'!

Man, I have all these drafts just sitting around waiting to be proofread properly but I'm way too tired and depressed from work... I'm not gonna bother proofreading again for this event since it's just a straightforward event story. Please let me know if there are any mistakes!

---

Sabertooth tiger: GWAOOOOOOOH!!!

Jyushi: UGYAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA!

Kuukou: UOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!

*sound of something being thrown and collapsing*

Sabertooth tiger: Gyao! Gyao!! Gyao!!!

Kuukou: Ah? What the…...?

*sound of footsteps approaching*

Riou: Are you alright?

Jyushi: Y-you’re Yokohama’s……

Riou: Mm…… You guys are Nagoya’s……

Jyushi: Ahem! …...I am the supreme ruler of chaos who creates tranquility, Aimono…… The one known as Aimono Jyushi! You have done well to rush to us in our predicament! The gods who shine radiantly will surely grant you---

Kuukou: Ooh! You really saved us there! We were dangerously close to dying just now!

Riou: No need to thank me. I passed by because I was hunting food ingredients just now.

Kuukou: Huuh, is that so.

Riou: If it’s fine with you guys, you guys should come to my base to rest

Kuukou: My bad! I’ll be taking you up on that then

*Note: i.e., ‘thanks and sorry I’ll be troubling you’

Jyushi: P-Please wait! Please don’t leave me behind!!!

Jyushi: A roasted whole sabertooth tiger huh… (*Note: something like this)

Kuukou: Ain’t it looks delicious!

Riou: Feel free to eat plenty

Kuukou: Hehe! Thanks man!

Riou: It’s better when there’s more people around the meal table after all

Kuukou: Hehe! If we missed out on this, we’ll likely never get the chance to eat Sabertooth Tiger meat and such ever again! Aren’t we glad, Jyushi!

Jyushi: ...are we really? (*Note: no clue if Kuukou meant ‘Aren’t you glad’ or ‘Aren’t we glad’, I guess it’s the former?)

Riou: Alright, it’s grilled!

Jyushi: (U, uuu……. Can this sort of stuff really be eaten…..?)

Kuukou: Ooh! Ain’t this super duper delicious!!

Riou: Isn’t it? This fellow is characterized by its meat texture and richly flavored fats, yet still tasting refreshing. It’s an exquisite catch. *

Kuukou: It’s seriously superb!

Riou: Here. Aimono, you should eat it while it’s still warm too

Jyushi: (I can’t bring myself to reject his good intentions…..)

Jyushi: I-I’ll be digging in…..

Jyushi: Ah, you’re right! It’s so delicious!!

Kuukou: Right?! Can I have more!?

Jyushi: I want too!

Riou: Sure, eat as much as you want.

Riou: If it’s alright with you guys, have some of this too

Kuukou: Sure! I’ll eat anything!

Jyushi: Thank you so m---

Jyushi: Uuhhhyaaaaaaaaaaaaaa!!!

Kuukou: Huh. That’s some dish that I’ve never seen before

Riou: It’s grilled Trilobite and Anomalocaris (*Note: Google the first one if you’re brave, it looks like an ocean centipede cockroach. The second one is just the Pokemon Anorith)

Jyushi: Bug! Huge bugs!! It has so many legs!!

Kuukou: How sumptuous. This is a dish of extinct species too huh!

Riou: Aimono. Have some.

Jyushi: Uhh…….

Riou: …...are you not eating it?

Jyushi: I’ll eat it! I’m the type who doesn’t leave any leftovers!

*After the meal*

Kuukou: Phew. I’m full! Thanks for the meal!

Jyushi: Thank…… you…..for the…… meal…….

Riou: Mm hmm. You guys eat well. The two of you can become great soldiers.

Kuukou: Fuaa~ I got sleepy after eating. Hey, do you mind letting us stay the night here?

Riou: Sure. No problem.

Jyushi: W-we’re staying overnight here…..? .

Kuukou: It’ll be tiring to go home now, isn’t it? Let’s get a good sleep and go home tomorrow.

Aimono: I-I understand…….

Jyushi: Wow~ The stars are super beautiful~

Riou: This place is quite a distance from Yokohama’s central area (city). Because the street lights doesn’t reach here, the stars here look beautiful *

Kuukou: Huh~ Well, I don’t see what’s interesting about gazing at stars

Jyushi: What are you saying, Kuukou-san!

Kuukou: Haa?

Jyushi: Stargazing is the best!

Kuukou: All you can see is just some spots of lights, isn’t that boring?

Jyushi: That’s because Kuukou-san doesn’t know anything about stars! Here, please look up at the sky!

Kuukou: What’s it…..

Jyushi: The one you can see over there is the Aquila constellation! And then the one over there is the Cygnus constellation! And then, do you know what that one is!?

Kuukou: I dunno……

Jyushi: Come on! Kuukou-san, please answer!

Kuukou: Aaaa, it’s the Bhaisajyaguru constellation ……. (*Note: it’s the same Medicine King Bhaisajyaguru he mentioned in Hang out!. I love how he just anyhow answers Jyushi something just to please him lol*)

Jyushi: There’s no such constellation, you know!!

Riou: That’s the Lyra constellation, isn’t it.

Jyushi: Correct! Busujima-san!! Those 3 are called the Summer Triangle asterism and consist of the Deneb, Vega, and Altair stars!

Kuukou: Aaagh, yes yes. Not interested. I can’t remember even if you tell me about it anyway.

Jyushi: N-No way…….

Riou: Aimono likes stars, huh

Jyushi: Yes! I like them! Because stars have a sense of romance to them!

Riou: That so…… Have you thought of going straight there to see it?

Jyushi: Well that…… When I was a child, I used to wanted to become an astronaut but…… before I knew it, I’ve given up on it…..

Riou: Then, shall we go?

Jyushi: Eh, go... to where?

Riou: To space, of course. Looking at the stars from the moon is nice too.

Jyushi: (Busujima-san tells jokes too huh…… Going along with him here would be the etiquette of an adult!)

Jyushi: Ahahaha! I’ll go! This way, my dream will be realized!

Riou: Mm hmm. How about Harai?

Kuukou: Is your head alright? How are we gonna go to somewhere like the space?

Riou: When the army was disbanded, I borrowed a rocket as preparation in case of an emergency.

Kuukou: Hah?

Jyushi: Eh?

Riou: Then, let’s get moving immediately

Jyushi: EEEEEEHHHHHHHHHH???!!!

*rocket sounds*

---

Link to previous chapter

Link to next chapter

Link to masterlist

---

man, i find Chuuni Jyushi way more difficult to translate than Gentaro... I have no clue what are half of the kanji he uses so I'm really glad he only has one sentence of it here.

Riou being an expert at stars is surprising. I didn't expect such cute interactions and him being this much of a riot...........

I love how these ARB events gives us completely new character dynamics... Things that we would have never seen in the main stories... I mean, Constellation buddies Riou and Jyushi?? and just imagine, what if Dinosaur buddies Gentaro and Kuukou?? (he likes extinct animals so there's no way he doesn't like dinosaurs, the coolest of all extinct animals, too)

Also, the boys didn't faint from eating leggy bugs, so they're officially cooler than Gentaro now. Stan BAT.

#hypmic translations #hypmic arb #riou mason busujima #jyushi aimono #kuko harai #harai kuko #aimono jyushi #busujima mason riou #hypnosis mic

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yitan · 3 years ago

Text

Thoughts of Arcadia

Some base ground before I start:

- I have experience the emotional rollercoaster that is the Tales of Arcadia series from start to finish (three shows/six season + movie) in the literal timespan that is last week. - I have a lot of thoughts and emotions on this subject now, MANY more than I thought I would when I began S1E1. I will just find myself thinking on them. A lot. - This is not me sharing all my thoughts as many have not had enough time to brew in my head. This one however has sat in my mind the longest. - I don’t really know anywhere else I could express my thoughts on this. So congrats Tumblr.

ATTENTION! If you plan to watch this show or have not completed it do NOT read past this point. I am unpacking an emotional thought train and will be including spoilers to the series!

Okay I need to voice a piece about Troll Jim. I’ve had just about this full week to see this fandom and already am aware that is a divisive subject. I’m still going to keep speaking though.

Firstly, I do understand why Jim was returned to human at the end of Wizards - The writers for the movie had already decided most of the scene’s were going to be in the day, and can’t have the main character getting killed by the set. - They also wanted Jim’s narrative to be how powerless he is without the amulet, and that argument doesn’t hold as strong when characters as big as Aaarrrgghh can smack him around without him feeling anything and he is able to outpace a horse.

That said it felt wasted. Yes Jim personally shows more relief at being human, However. - All of Jim’s friends continued to love him after he turned into Troll Jim. Blinky, Aaarrrgghh, Toby, his mother Barbara. - Claire continues to love him and is even still willing to be affectionate in public with him in this new form. - The only person who doesn’t love the new Jim is Jim. And while yes he had a very forceful voice in Merlin pushing for his transformation, all Merlin did was put the potion in Jim’s hand. Jim made the bath and set up the potion and got into the bath all by himself.

It was stated by Aaron Waltke that Troll Jim can’t take his armor off because the armor knows he doesn’t feel safe and is trying to protect him. - Troll Jim fights Angor Rot & Gunmar in a two on one and walks away with a single scratch. His two biggest enemies prior to Morgana’s awakening - He does this while also internally fighting his own discomforts about himself - In the six to seven months in cannon that we see Troll Jim we never see him without the armor on. - In six to seven months this man never felt safe in his own skin

Imagine how powerful a Troll Jim who had learned to love himself would be.

Side bar: They could have been creative and respun a running gag in the series. -Barbara’s cooking is canonically terrible. -Troll Jim can’t enjoy the superb meals he is skilled at making. - But now his mom’s cooking tastes amazing! - We could have had home scene’s where their both in the kitchen, him cooking for her and her cooking for him. IT WOULD HAVE BEEN CUTE!

Now, don’t complain about a story beat if you can’t suggest an alternative. Here’s my thought on how the character could have been salvaged.

Merlin stated there was no way to undo the transformation. - However Wizards takes effort to explain the Merlin doesn’t trust shadow magic and thus does not know a great deal about it. - Claire saves Jim at the end of Wizards from being turned to stone and is a user of shadow magic. -We also have it confirmed in lore that Morgana used shadow magic to make the first changelings. As well that her changelings did not require an infant familiar. -That is something Gunmar had to do after she was sealed away. Since he did not have her level of power.

Both sides of the which Jim discussion could have won with the simple introduction of Changeling Jim. Literally just regular Jim and Half-Troll Jim but he can now switch between them at will. - Changelings can eat normal food, like Jim misses. - They can blend into society, so Jim can live his life again. -They do not share the troll weakness to sunlight. Even though Nomura(the writers) somehow forgot that in the movie. -Also it is shown that they don’t live forever, the oldest confirmed changeling we have is estimated at 125 years old. -I’m willing to bet that while they can outlive an average human, it’s not by much. I’m basing this on the fact that everyone is cool with Barbara’s and Walt’s relationship and doesn’t ask questions.

Now this still allows Jim to get back the things he missed the most and keeps the character development of his transformation. Win-win, really.

Moving forward this also allows the plot continue without any major changes. While still improving on it. - Jim can still go through an arc of self doubt. - Not because he’s powerless with out the amulet, but because he’s not longer sure if the amulet would chose him anymore. - According to Aaron Waltke, in lore the amulet would never chose a changeling because they are stereotyped as being two-faced. - Jim gets the new amulet and it doesn’t work, so now he thinks he’s unworthy. - Once the Excalibur stone is placed in the amulet it works again proving that Jim is The Troll Hunter regardless of the changes he’s gone through. - It gives a spin on Jim’s continued arc without having to literally set him back in character development.

Jim is an amazing character, and I loved watching him grow through this series. Troll Jim is a wonderful element to that, both narratively and visually. I want to see this series continue past the movie and maybe possibly reexamine the plots like this which felt like they were cut off more for time than resolution.

I clicked that first episode because I was feeling depressed among other things, and was not prepared for how invested I was going to get in this series. I’m here now and I want to see more. If your here, thank you for hearing my thoughts. It feels good to verbalize the things this series has made me feel.

#tales of arcadia #trollhunters #wizards #ToA #RotT #rise of the titans #jim lake jr #Troll Jim #Changeling #toa wizards #toa trollhunters #Troll #aaron waltke

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letteredlettered · 3 years ago

Note

Hey! I absolutely love all of your Marvel fics. Have you watched or do you plan on watching The Falcon and the Winter Soldier or any of the other new Marvel shows? Do you have any thoughts on them?

Thank you! It's so nice to have an ask about these, my favorite fics!!!

I have watched WandaVision and The Falcon and the Winter Soldier. I have started Loki, but I'm waiting for my friend to come back so we can finish the rest.

WandaVision: Loved the premise. Felt they moved into explaining the premise too simplistically and easily. I enjoy dense shows; I don't mind having to guess a bit, and I felt a little talked-down-to by how simplistic this one got. Loved the Pietro retcon, as I loved Quicksilver in the X-Men movies approximately 10,000 times better than Quicksilver in AoU. Feel like they're opening up a multiverse, which I enjoy, though I do NOT want X-Men in MCU. I have always loved X-Men as a self-contained universe, AKA the 90s cartoon, and they really make no sense combined with everyone else. Loved Agatha until It Was Agatha All Along, and then the whole show turned into this very campy silly thing. Feel like they're opening up the idea of magic, which I hate. The entire MCU up to this point is premised around science; that's what my fics were about; that's what I enjoyed; this kind of magic is silly. Always love Darcy Lewis, always love James Woo in anything he's in. Sad about Monica's mother, do not know Rambeau from comics, but interested in the arc. Loved the Lewis/Woo/Rambeau team up. A bit disappointed in character growth for Vision, who's always been pretty boring even though I do love Vision in Earth's Mightiest Heroes and also love Paul Bettany. Pretty happy with character growth for Wanda, even though I still think magic is stupid.

Falcon and Winter Soldier: What a confused show. What a show struggling with wanting to say attractively progressive things about race and imperialism and fascism and terrorism and capitalism while also being a show made by Disney, the most capitalist and imperialist of them all. Like if this show could have been made by an independent, maybe it could have actually said something about the concepts it tries to tackle. Instead it leaves a gross taste in my mouth. I'm talking specifically about the Flag Smashers. They did handle black Captain America with more care and nuance than I expected; I am glad they had at least one black voice saying that a black Captain America is a betrayal, and at least one other black voice saying that not having black Captain America is also a betrayal. They could have done more but I was still happy they did it. Also was super happy about Sam's speech to the Senator at the end, even though it felt a little too little too late (for the show, not Sam).

Speaking of too little too late, Sam had this one very good conversation with Bucky while they're throwing shields at trees about trauma and grief. Wasn't Sam a guidance counselor for vets? Why weren't similar conversations the whole arc for Sam/Bucky, rather than this cooked up animosity that seems to be purely for laughs. Sam and Bucky have a LOT of chemistry when they're dealing with their pasts together and building boats (that was my favorite scene), but I didn't buy their stupid bickering at all.

Part of it is I just never got the arc I wanted for Bucky. Civil War was such a mess. The third Captain America movie should have been a Captain America movie rather than that disaster. Then we could have had a real and solid arc for Bucky, in which we really understand his trajectory toward recovery. This was the only piece of media since The Winter Soldier that treated his trauma as real, but, like, he's already grown so much by then that it just made me feel the arc was uneven. I do feel bad because I just don't think Sebastian Stan is that good of an actor. He is very very good at being sad and gay (cf Political Animals, Kings, The Winter Soldier), but he is not super at comedic timing. It kinda falls flat against Anthony Mackie's superb timing. Idk.

#falcon and winter soldier #wandavision

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lizaloveslevihan · 4 years ago

Note

my big mood today is an au where levihan is living the west coast life and going to the city to buy good bread and go biking next to the sea-side and maybe crossing the bridge as they the weather is so cold but they feel so warm from the exercise and each other's love <3

A Day Well Spent

He kneeled at the bedside, already dressed for the day with every intention to drag her out of the bed. However, as he stared into her sleeping face, the words died down his throat.

Her messy brown hair was everywhere, and she snored, mouth slightly agape, tiny hints of drool slipping from her mouth. He had already allotted himself time this morning to watch her for a couple of minutes before he got up and prepared breakfast, which was already waiting for them in the dining room. He had been incredibly tempted to just stay in bed with her all day, but he had already agreed with her plans, which, ironically, she had to be reminded of herself.

He carefully tucked a handful of hair behind her ear and traced his hand towards her bare arm, shaking it lightly. “Oi, four-eyes. Wake up. We’re gonna be stuck in rush hour.”

Hange groaned in her sleep. She lifted her arm and started waving her hand around until it finally smacked against his face. Levi sighed and took her hand in his, squeezing it lightly.

“Five more minutes, clean freak,” she yawned, “five more minutes.”

“It’s already nine, for fuck’s sake,” Levi said firmly. Hange huffed and squeezed her eyes, even more, crumpling her face a bit. Levi shook her again with a little more force. “You were the one who kept bugging me about going out today, so stick with your plan.”

Hange groaned louder and draped an arm over her eyes, shifting her body so that it was facing away from him. “It’s not my fault you’re so good in bed,” she complained, “I’m still exhausted as fuck.”

Levi sighed again, knowing that he now had to stick to his initial plan. He stood up, cracked his knuckles, and tore off the blanket that covered her bare body. Hange let out a loud shriek in surprise but had little time to react when he swiftly picked her up and carried her towards the bathroom.

The position was rather awkward, given their height difference, but Levi had already done this multiple times whenever she refused to take a bath herself. Hange normally didn’t complain, but this time, she was swatting his arm and growling like an animal. “I would have gotten up in five minutes you kn--”

She didn’t finish her sentence as Levi plopped her right into the bathtub.

“What the fuck?!” Hange screeched, feeling the water envelop her skin. She yelped, spilling some of it on the floor.

“I didn’t want to have to do this, four-eyes, but you left me with no choice,” Levi said as he crossed his arms. “Now you better hurry up or I’m leaving your ass in thirty minutes.”

Hange huffed. Of course, he’d already prepared a bath and everything. However, the annoyance she felt slowly died down as she noted the warmness of the water and the strong scent of lavender. She poked at some of the bubbles and felt her frown turn into a wide grin.

Levi scoffed and raised an eyebrow. “The fuck are you so happy about?”

“Oh, nothing.” Hange sang as she eased into the tub, feeling her muscles relax. She sighed comfortably and looked at him. “Just how much I love you.”

She grinned even wider as he was visibly taken aback, an unmistakable blush dusting his pale cheeks. “Just hurry up and wipe your ass,” he grumbled, suddenly turning shy and looking away. “I don’t wanna be stuck in traffic all day.”

“Aren’t you going to do it for me?” Hange pouted. She did her best puppy eyes, knowing it always had at least a fifty percent chance of working on him.

“Nice try,” Levi said as he swiftly walked out of the room. “Save your begging for later.”

As he shut the door behind him, Hange couldn’t help but giggle. He really was something else.

--------

The weather was finally turning cooler after months of excessive heat, so she was glad to finally be able to wear that soft, yellow sweater Nanaba had gotten for her on her birthday. She finished dressing, leaving her damp hair to dry first, and went out of the bedroom. She found Levi in the kitchen, sipping his morning tea.

Levi glanced up as he heard her walking in, and Hange observed how he stared at her a second longer before glancing down and taking another sip. “Took you long enough.”

Hange then noticed the plate of eggs and toast on the dining table, as well as her usual mug of coffee. “Thanks for breakfast, Levi!” she happily exclaimed as she took her usual seat, Levi joining her afterward.

They took their breakfasts quickly, seeing as they had a couple of places they needed to get to that day. In twenty minutes, they were already on the freeway, and much to Levi’s pleasant surprise, the traffic wasn’t as bad as he thought. The whole ride would have been perfect if only Hange didn’t control the music. Hopefully, she’d let him play his playlist when they drove to their next stop. He didn’t know if he could handle listening to her rap “My Shot” from the Hamilton soundtrack seven more times. He appreciated the music, but what he didn’t appreciate was her screeching every. single. word.

They got to the Farmer’s Market before noon and Levi managed to secure a parking spot by her favorite pastry stall. “Remember, we’re getting bread and fruit. Don’t you dare buy a fucking fish like last time.” He reminded Hange as they got out of the car. He walked around and met her eyes, already seeing the excitement in them.

“But that was so fun!” Hange complained. She immediately hooked her arm to his and started dragging him to the first stall.

“I went to the bathroom for ten minutes and the next thing I know you made your own campfire in Santa Monica and tried cooking an actual fish in it,” Levi emphasized. They stopped right in front of her favorite shop where she glanced at all the decadent options that laid in front of her. “You were fucking lucky that Arlert kid worked there and helped cover it up, otherwise, they would have probably arrested your shitty ass.”

Before Hange could reply, the old woman who managed the store finally saw and greeted them. “Oh, how nice to see you again Dr. Zoe! Mr. Ackerman.”

Levi nodded at the woman while Hange gave her a big wave. “Hi, Kate! We’ll have the usual. And maybe a box of these blueberry tarts. Thank you!” She smiled brightly.

Kate instantly returned the smile. “Of course. Half a dozen of chocolate croissants and a box of blueberry tarts coming right up, dear.”

Hange finally glanced down at Levi as Kate was busy grabbing the pastries. “Isn’t Armin such a sweet kid? He also works so hard at the lab, even if he’s an unpaid intern. I already promised him a superb letter of recommendation when he graduates, which makes us even I guess.”

Levi rolled his eyes. She was definitely shaping up Arlert to replace Moblit, should he finally die from stress from making sure she doesn’t blow herself up at work. Even though he never showed it (and never will) he was grateful for those two for taking care of her when he couldn’t.

“You need to stop watching those survival shows on Netflix,” Levi said as Kate started wrapping up their purchases. “Next thing I know, you’re gonna attempt to eat your own shit.”

Hange let out a large bark of laughter. She then bumped her shoulder against his. “My shit would probably taste really good though, you gotta admit.”

“Here you go, sweetie,” Kate said as she handed Hange a paper bag. Levi started to take out his wallet when the old woman stopped him. “Oh, don’t worry about it. It’s on the house today!”

“But Kate--” Hange started to protest. The old woman placed a hand on her shoulder to silence her.

“You two come here every Sunday, and it always warms my heart to see how sweet you are. That’s very rare for couples these days.” Kate smiled, “Don’t worry about it. I’ll let you pay next week, alright?”

Hange then gave her a big hug which made the old woman chuckle in delight. She returned the gesture and glanced at Levi, who nodded his head in gratitude.

They eventually pulled apart, and before they exchanged goodbyes, Kate walked up to Levi and whispered: “Take care of that one, okay? She’s a keeper.”

He glanced discreetly at Hange, drinking in her appearance and fighting the small grin that threatened to appear on his face. He returned his gaze to the old woman and spoke quietly: “You have no idea.”

It was after they purchased more food from the other stalls did Hange finally ask what the old woman told him.

“Oh, nothing.” Levi responded, the bright flower shop at the end of the hall catching his eye, “Just how much your shit would taste good.”

Hange laughed out loudly, gaining the attention of the people near them. Levi finally felt his lips turn upright at the sight of her happy face.

“I knew it.”

-------

They reached the beach after an hour-long drive that mainly consisted of fighting over playing yet another Hamilton song or Levi’s alternative rock and classical playlist. They eventually came up to the agreement where Hange was allowed to sing one Hamilton song and listen quietly to the rest. If she failed to do so, then she had to play Levi’s music. Suffice to say, Levi was finally able to enjoy at least some parts of the drive.

There was a park that was situated exactly next to the beach which was the perfect spot for lunch. Hange normally persuaded him to have a picnic in the sand, despite the obvious discomfort he had, but after seeing all the trouble she put him through last time with the fish situation, she was more than okay to eat at a picnic table at the park.

Hange felt herself instantly relax as the cool, salty air entered her lungs. She stretched out her limbs after being cooped up in the car for so long and closed her eyes, enjoying the breeze.

As much as she loved her job and the people she worked with, she was glad to have these nice days off -- especially with Levi by her side.

“Oi, instead of standing around like an idiot, why don’t you help out shitty glasses?” Levi called out as he opened the trunk and grabbed some of the bags of food they had bought.

Hange broke from her trance and did exactly that. They found a nice table and Levi got to working with placing a picnic blanket over it as Hange started to pull out and prepare the boxes of food and bottles of beverages. As they worked, Hange couldn’t help but discreetly glance at Levi as he neatly arranged the other boxes of food, his strong figure visibly relaxed, and his face calm, even though it had its usual stoic expression. The breeze picked up a little, slightly ruffling his dark locks as he concentrated on making sure nothing flew away.

“Take a picture, it lasts longer,” he said without looking at her. Hange couldn’t help but laugh at being caught, and she shrugged before sitting down, her hands making its way to the first box of pastries. “Eh. I already have too many photos of your constipated face on my phone. It almost makes me look like a stalker. Though that would be an interesting concept.” She bit into the croissant and sighed at its wonderful flavor.

Levi scoffed and sat across from her before grabbing a sandwich. “It’s not hard to imagine. I bet you already have some weird fucking shrine of me in your lab or some shit.”

Hange gasped, a couple of crumbs falling from her face. “How’d you find out?! I thought I hid it so well.”

Levi pursed his lips in amusement as Hange grinned at him. They ate in silence for a bit before falling into an easy conversation about their respective work and what they had missed talking about the past week. Hange excitedly talked about the new developments in the lab and the experiments she was thinking of proposing soon. In turn, Levi updated her on how he and Erwin were close to securing a deal with one of their potential investors.

They finished their food and after cleaning up and putting some of it back in the car, they proceeded to walk together by the seaside. Levi wasn’t keen on stepping into the sand at all this time, and Hange conceded. It wasn’t long before their hands were firmly clasped together as they walked, and they went on, passing by surfers and other beachgoers who also enjoyed a rather gentle sun and cold breeze. They inserted some personal commentary on each person they found interesting -- which varied immensely from a street performer to an old couple who wore swimsuits that left little for the imagination.

“Look, Levi!” Hange stopped and pointed to a bike rental stall. “Can we go?”

It wasn’t as if Levi had much choice, so he simply agreed.

After paying the rent (and sanitizing the handles on Levi’s part), they rode their bikes and followed the convenient trail specifically made for them. Hange, with her strong and long legs, obnoxiously went faster than him. “Oi, Hange! Slow down will you?” Levi called out. “It’s not a fucking race!”

Though he commended the effort, there was still no way she could outrun the man who actually had a fixed gym schedule. “The fuck, four-eyes?” he said as they finally pedaled side by side.

“Why, I thought you’d actually appreciate looking at my backside, short stuff,” Hange said, not bothering to look at him. “Your loss, I guess!” she called out.

She smiled smugly to herself as Levi took the bait and slowed down behind her. After a few seconds, she called out again: “Take a picture! It lasts longer!”

-------

They left the beach an hour before sunset, and this time, the drive to their last location was a calmer one -- Hange filling the air with more comments about the people and things they observed.

Levi glanced at her from time to time, the colors of the sky lighting her face. She went on and on about the man on the beach whose lover looked more like his daughter, about Kate and how they should give her something special next week as a thank you present, about her work agenda tomorrow and how she wanted to set up Moblit with Nifa, and what their plans were going to be next Sunday. Levi took it all in -- the sound of her voice, how she chuckled and laughed, her thoughtfulness towards others -- he took it all in and felt an overwhelming amount of happiness just by being there and listening to her.

Hange couldn’t help but do the same. Every time she sprouted something, she looked at his reaction and was pleased to see his amused expression. He looked positively gorgeous there behind the steering wheel, and she knew that he was listening to her every word despite it being nonsense to him. The moment he placed his hand in between them, she grabbed it immediately. Though he said nothing, she knew he was as happy as her.

They had gotten to the Observatory by the time the sun started sinking, and they pulled up near a bench with an incredible view of Los Angeles laid out in front of them. Hange immediately went down and sat, but Levi had other plans as he mysteriously went to the trunk and took out something from a bag. Hange stared at him in amusement as he closed it and presented her with a bouquet of sunflowers that matched her sweater perfectly.

“You haven’t studied these yet, right?” Levi asked. Hange smiled warmly and took it, admiring its beauty. He then sat down next to her, his face neutral.

“They’re beautiful.” Hange noted, “and yep. I haven’t yet.” She loved to study flowers and plants as a hobby, and Levi almost always provides her with them, even if he constantly argued he got them for free somewhere.

“They were giving them out in the market while you were in the bathroom.” Levi shrugged, keeping his face expressionless. “Thought you’d need something to work on in your free time.”

Hange hugged his side, giggling at his obviously constipated face. He draped an arm around her and they stayed that way for a good amount of time.

“You’re too kind, Levi,” Hange said, her voice muffled against his shoulder. “And you’re also a terrible liar.”

“Shut the fuck up, shitty glasses.”

Hange laughed again -- she seriously couldn't stop laughing when she was with him -- and pulled away, placing the flowers onto her other side. “So.” she started, now looking at the view that laid in front of them. “What are we doing next Sunday? I believe it’s your turn to pick.”

Levi already had the answer to that question. “We’re staying in.”

Hange raised an eyebrow, “Again? Don’t you want to try out that new tea place downtown?”

Levi shook his head and thought about how he seldom had the time to just laze around in bed with her -- especially given their often hectic work schedules. He thought about this morning, her calm and serene face, the drool from lips, her messy hair -- and he knew he wanted to bask in that silence, to stare at her face for as long as possible. Though today, he had to admit, was also a day well spent.

Hange understood and smiled softly. They wrapped their arms around one another, the cold air unable to penetrate the warmth from the love they deeply shared.

It was a day well spent indeed.

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x0401x · 4 years ago

Text

Jeweler Richard Web Short Story

Deviated a little from the usual translations to deliver a short story from Tsujimura Nanako’s official site for Seigi’s birthday. The fandom is kind of a mess right now, so here’s a bit of lighthearted content (and also to celebrate the release of volume 10′s digital copy).

Raw version here. Please consider supporting the creators by purchasing digital copies of the official releases: Novel || Manga || Fanbook

(Quick explanation before-hand, to spare confusion: there’s a mention of Fukuzawa Yukichi in this story. He’s a historical figure whose face is printed on 10,000-yen notes.)

Biography Series of Ramen-Specialized Natakaya ―Case of the Storm-and-Stress Pudding―

My name is Nakata Seigi. I’m the owner of Nakataya, a commonplace ramen shop that you can find anywhere. I run the shop in a certain part of a certain rural town. At Nakataya, the costumers choose their ramen’s stock, and no matter what anybody says, I recommend the soy sauce one. Tonkotsu is also popular lately. Our neighbor on the right side is the English pub “Jeff & Harry”, and on the left is the Sri Lankan restaurant “Genie in the Lamp”, so there’s crowding during the lunch break period of nearby companies, but most of the customers are regulars.

The regulars always said that my ramen was delicious and ate it all. That made me extremely happy. But, if it was possible, I wanted to meet a new costumer for the first time in a while. It could even be someone who would strictly reprove me for drifting about so complacently.

Just as I was thinking this, selfish of me as might be, it happened. The shadow of a person I didn’t know passed through the red split curtains of the Nakataya.

“Welcome!”

“Pardon the intrusion.”

It was a man with a neat silhouette. His blue eyes were like a piece of ice floe that had flowed from a northern country, sparkling brightly as they reflected me. His golden hair formed fluffy waves. His brown leather boots glistened. He wore gray slacks over a white shirt that shone a beautiful white, to the point it could make one say it was a bit too much for visiting a ramen shop.

I always had my heart racing a little when meeting new costumers. With my chest throbbing, I smiled at the novel guest. “What can I get you?”

“...ing.”

I hadn’t been able to hear it well, so I leaned my body over the counter.

The customer was standing upright at a distance of about two steps away, looking at me straightforwardly. And so, he said, “Pudding, please.”

“Pudding?”

“Yes.”

Had I heard it wrong, I pondered.

However, he repeated once more with a clear voice, “Pudding, please.”

“A pudding.”

“Yes.”

“Please wait a moment.”

Pudding. Pudding, in a ramen shop. I wondered if he had mistaken the establishment. Maybe for the English pub next door, which had a blueberry and brandy sauce pudding in its daytime menu. Just for the heck of it, I checked with him, saying this was a ramen shop. But he didn’t budge. Pudding. With an unyielding will, this stunning person sought a pudding from me. He was asking the owner of Nakataya for a pudding.

I see. This is determination. I accept that resolve of his. The only thing I can do is make him a pudding.

“Please wait a bit.”

“All right.”

The possessor of a Caucasian beauty sat gracefully on the counter’s stool, like a silver fox spirit curling up its tail and lying down. It was a waiting posture. He didn’t playfully peek at his smartphone or move around unnecessarily. I intuitively sensed that this man was the real deal.

Thankfully, there were no other customers in Nakataya yet. There was still time until the busy noon hours. And as I recalled, I had a memory from the distant, distant past, of eating a delicious pudding made by my mother.

Thanks, Hiromi. You doing well?

The ingredients were eggs and sugar. All I needed was a cup-like vessel.

I made the caramel. Produced the pudding mixture. Poured it into the cup. Then cooked it at low heat, borrowing hot water from the equipment that I used for boiling the noodles.

Sure enough, the pudding was done. With nipping sounds, yellow confectionery landed on a saucer.

“Sorry for the wait. Here’s the pudding.”

“Thank you.” From the counter, he stealthily took the pudding and the spoon.

He ate it.

Grasping the spoon with his right hand and bending it into a comfortable angle, he held the pudding’s saucer with his left hand, which seemed to accompany the action. Even though the tableware looked prone to making clinking sounds, it didn’t produce a single noise. He aimed purely for my pudding.

You had to be like that when eating something, I perceived.

I had never met anyone who ate pudding as earnest and wholeheartedly as this man. That was to be expected. After all, I was the owner of a ramen shop. I seldom saw people eating pudding. But I could tell.

He was my shop’s savior.

I swallowed my saliva with a gulp and asked gently, “How was it?”

“Absolutely superb.” He grinned, stood up straight and took out his wallet, leaving a fee on top of the old register.

It wasn’t the price of a pudding. Our ramen was 400 yen per bowl.

“Thank you for the meal.”

As he took his leave, what he left behind was a 1000-yen note.

From that day onward, he came by daily. Always during a time when there was no one else around. And he would say with his cool voice, “Pudding, please.” When saying so, he would sit at the counter. Always on the second seat from right to left.

From the other side of the counter, I would reply, “Roger!” And then, I would make a pudding for him.

Ever since that time, I had studied. While devoting myself to the way of ramen on one hand, I also analyzed puddings from many angles, such as what a tasty pudding was like, what it took to please someone with a pudding, what types of pudding were both delicious and good for the health and what pudding was from a metaphysical viewpoint. A cook should never neglect the pursuit for knowledge.

“Nakata-kun, aren’t your goals kinda weird lately?” the younger brother of the next-door pub’s owner had asked, making a dubious face at me, but that wasn’t the case at all. If I only thought about ramen, I wouldn’t be able to run a ramen shop. Frankly speaking, the fact that this person had showed up when I was thinking that I needed a breakthrough must have been, yes, destiny.

This road was going to lead me in the right direction. The direction I should go. This pudding customer was just like a Polar Star for me.

The amount of money that he would leave changed from day to day. He never cut off from the 1000-yen notes, which I was nothing but grateful for, considering the cost price, and they linked miraculously with the results I had estimated each time, so that was as expected of him. He was clearly a pudding pro. I couldn’t imagine just how many places I would have to go through to develop a palate like that.

Which was why honing my skills was worth it.

Today’s pudding was a bit different from the usual. Perhaps a sign of this had been transmitted to him too, as the gorgeous guest raised his eyebrows only a little higher than normal and looked at me. Could he notice it? Could he? Not just the taste of the pudding, but also this sense of presence?

Putting my utmost feelings into it, I placed it on the counter. “Here you go. Pudding in a bowl.”

What I had laid there was a ramen bowl. It was a simple white one, bearing the characters for “Nakataya” in red. The inside was completely filled with a yellow pudding. Depending on what you thought of it, that quantity might well be fitting for torture. I was the only one who had to know just how many egg yolks and how much sugar I put in it. But I was fully aware that this man didn’t love pudding with a half-hearted resolution.

He accepted the bowl with a cool facial expression, letting show a delight that might have been there or not. His movements were very natural, as if he were merely receiving a ramen with a tiny bit more toppings than usual.

“I shall be having it.”

“Go ahead.”

I tried to offer a Chinese spoon instead of an ordinary one, but the man stopped me with a hand. Of course, I had already anticipated as much and made the arrangements. As I promptly gave him the usual silver spoon, the man grinned.

This person’s smile was extremely beautiful. It was like a white flower blooming at the break of dawn.

With unwavering hand movements, he steadily thrust the spoon into the pudding bowl. A heap of pudding appeared on top of the spoon. It seemed to have about the same amount as a cup-sized pudding. And like magic, he nimbly swallowed it in one bite. Holding my breath, I saw the scene through.

A spoonful. Another spoonful. Yet another spoonful.

Just as always, with unfaltering hand motions, he proceeded to eat a pudding that had about ten times more volume than usual at a steady pace. Of course, he also didn’t leave any of the caramel accumulated at the bottom of the bowl. He held the bowl with his two hands, as if drinking up to the last drop of a ramen, and like a hero having a high-grade victory sake, he drank the caramel in one go with a gulp.

Once he set the bowl on the counter and softly wiped his mouth, he quietly looked at my face. Without realizing, I had been clutching the hem of my apron with both hands.

“How was it?”

“You have finally mastered the way of it.”

“Then that means...!”

He nodded as if extremely satisfied, small lips forming a broad smile like a sculpture of an angel. Taking his wallet from his pocket, he tried to present Fukuzawa Yukichi to me, but I stopped him with a hand. I had been receiving too much until now. And I had already gained plenty of something bigger than money from him.

He must have realized that too. Putting the banknote back into his pocket, he chuckled with a whiff. “This is the supreme fine item that I had been seeking.”

“That’s great. Hum, just who are you...?”

“My name is Richard.”

“Richard”. I wondered why. It was my first time hearing it, yet it sounded somewhat nostalgic.

Having eaten the pudding so delightfully, Richard-shi crinkled his blue eyes slightly and laughed with a snort. “To think you had been hiding a skill of this level. I am impressed.”

“Same here; how can I thank you for not turning your back on my abilities?”

“I pray that this pudding will be a significant step towards the path of your cooking.” He reached a hand to me across the counter.

I frantically wiped my hands on the apron, gripping his hand back. It was a moving scene. I would probably continue to pursue the way of ramen. Meanwhile, I would be making puddings for this person – for Richard. I had that presentiment.

And then...

“Here he is! Ricky, what’re you doing?”

The one who had barged in like a storm was Jeffrey-san from the pub next door. Flustered, he strangled Richard, who sat composed on the stool. Richard’s expression didn’t change even at a time like this. He was game.

“Nakata-kun, I’m so sorry. This is our cousin who came from Hong Kong because we asked for assistance. Geez, Ricky, we were thinking something was off ‘cause you never showed up even though we properly told you where the pub was. You can’t take advantage of Nakata-kun just because he’s nice! Well, Nakata-kun, we’ll come over again with Henry to eat shoyu ramen. Adieu!”

As if dragging a large suitcase, Jeffrey forced his cousin along and left. When disappearing on the other side of the split curtains that hung at the exit, Richard smiled faintly as if to say, “Farewell, then”. I smiled back too. Things like “No, it isn’t the time to be putting on airs like that. What’s the meaning of this, slacking off even though you were asked to help with the pub and ordering pudding from the next-door shop?” weren’t important. I wasn’t thinking about that. Because, for me, polishing my skills was what mattered. Still, that guy’s love for pudding was trouble.

Hm? “That guy’s”?

I rubbed my eyes.

Does that mean Richard? Speaking of which, his face when he ate my pudding for the first time was like that of a surprised child, and—and then—

I woke up.

My name is Nakata Seigi. I’m an university student who attends Kasaba University.

What was that? That Nakataya thing? Although just for a little while, I had been living the life of a ramen shop owner. But pudding. Pudding at a ramen shop.

He was an unbending man even inside a dream, I thought as I checked my phone, which rested next to my pillow. 10:00 PM. It seemed I had dozed off while lying on my bed as I reviewed a textbook. He probably wouldn’t get mad at me if I called him now.

The line connected after three dial tones. Richard. His cool voice as he asked if something had happened was making me feel somewhat pained right now.

“Richard, hum.”

“Yes.”

“Would you... be even a little bit happy if I said that I was gonna make... a whole ramen bowl of pudding?”

The response was a dangerous “Haah?”. That was when I shook off the remains of the dream.

“Hm-hm, it’s nothing. Don’t mind me. It’s fine, really. Yep. Yep. Well, then.”

Honestly, what was I doing? This man was a royal milk tea and pudding extremist. A significant change in size would also affect the taste and texture. Logically thinking, there was no way he would be pleased with something like that. I knew that.

But the dream version of me probably wanted to see Richard’s face of delight, and I now wound up taking it seriously.

“My bad, my bad. I’ll make it in the usual proper size and with the same old taste.”

For a moment, he pressed me about why on Earth I had suddenly talked about that, but I escaped it by beating around the bush. Because I could see that he would tell me not to call him while I was still half-asleep. I couldn’t bring myself to take much of his time either.

As I was about to hang up with a “well, that was really all, so see ya”, Richard said lastly with a voice that sounded purposeful, “Aah, right, right. Your birthday is coming up soon. Make sure to think about what you want to get.”

Aah. Now that he had mentioned, it was May. I used not to think much of birthdays in the past, but maybe because of a thankful increase in the number of people I had to celebrate it with, I also became conscious of and started thinking about it.

He was trying to fool me with non-committal words like “aah, right, right”, but he must have had it properly memorized since long ago. We had a bond where I could tell as much. I was very happy that we had been able to build such a relationship. That was why, rather than things like “I wanna get this” or “I wanna go to this place”, the wish I wanted to make come true might have been something along the lines of, “I want a tiny memory”.

“It’d be great if we could go eat ramen together one day.”

“Yes, that is true.”

Eh?

Before I could think that an idiot like me had heard it wrong, the call ended. Richard. That Richard. Could it be he had just given the OK to go eat ramen with me? That Richard, who was just like a heaven-sent child of gemstones and Ginza.

“Haha!”

I tossed my phone onto the bed, rolling onto my back and flapping my limbs. It was the Nakata’s dance of joy. Holy shit. That came from an unexpected place.

Thank you, version of me who was the owner of Nakataya.

Ramen with Richard. For the moment, I didn’t know any better birthday present.

Author note: happy birthday, Nakata Seigi-kun. Just like a certain someone, let me also gently watch over you gradually growing up healthy and comfortably.

#housekishou richard shi no nazo kantei #the case files of jeweler richard #jeweler richard #richard ranashinha de vulpian #nakata seigi #jeffrey claremont #henry claremont #tsujimura nanako #web short stories #my translation #richard

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