#and also it's nice to know exactly what your food is going to taste like before you eat it

[look-at-the-stars-tonight]

the amount of effort that goes into figuring out what to cook and eat every day is RIDICULOUS. i used to think people were so weird and boring for eating the same thing every single day but it truly does make life so much easier

[katsu28]

slow down, be here

pairing: lando norris x reader

summary: after a long, frustrating day of training, a night in with you is just what lando needs to leave it all in his rearview mirror (2.4k)

warnings: teensy but of swearing, reader is in university but major is unspecified, lando being a certified menace

a/n: i was gonna post this sometime next week but the lando girlies (aka me) need some comfort after today's shitshow. may or may not have been entirely inspired by that video of lando in the white singlet. that look (however fleeting) did things to me okay

You’re sitting at the kitchen counter when you hear Lando’s key in the door, one leg drawn up towards your chest, the other swinging aimlessly as you revise your notes last minute. 

Well, more specifically, when you hear him drop his keys on the floor in search of the correct one right before he inserts it into the lock. You’ve loved him and lived with him long enough to know it’s something he does everyday without fail. Whether it’s because he’s got clumsy hands or he’s Pavloved himself into dropping them at the same spot, you don’t think too much about it. The key drop signals that Lando is home. 

What also signals that he’s home is the way he lets out the strangest sound you’ve ever heard as he lets the door swing shut behind him after he’s let himself in—something between a sigh and a whine mixed with a guttural groan. 

“In here!” You call, taking the cap of your pen out from between your teeth. It only takes a few seconds until Lando emerges from the hallway, socked feet dragging himself towards where you’re sitting with a soft smile aimed at his rumpled state. “Hi, love.” 

He plops down on the stool next to you unceremoniously, hooking his foot under the bar of yours to tug you as close as possible to him on instinct. His chin finds the dip between your neck and shoulder to nestle into, and the deflating sigh he lets out once he’s situated himself to his liking sends a shiver through you. “Hi.” He mumbles, voice muffled. 

“Heard you’ve had quite a day.” You stroke a hand over his curls, smoothing them away from his forehead gently. Oscar had shot you a heads up text a little bit before Lando had arrived, saying that Lando might seem a bit put out when he got home. Something about a handful of tests not going the way they wanted, strategies not working out the way they planned. It sounds like enough to drive anyone crazy, but Lando is the type of person to take things especially hard. 

Lando lets out a vague sound of acknowledgement. You can tell he’s exhausted and frustrated, and you know exactly what he needs to wind down after days like these. “I’ll order takeaway for dinner. You go shower. It’ll probably be here by the time you finish up.” 

He gives a more content sigh this time, pressing a kiss to your pulse point. The tips of his hair tickle your cheek as he does so. “You’re a gem, darling.” 

“Tell me something I don’t know.” You tease, pushing him away playfully. He’s smiling big at you when you meet his gaze, something beyond fondness behind his eyes despite the tiredness as he does. “What?” 

“I love you.” 

“Love you too, stinky. Now go. Wash up before I make an executive decision and order sushi.” 

That gets your boyfriend scrambling to his feet fast, aiming a horrified look your way as he books it down the hallway. “You monster!” 

You chuckle quietly, busying yourself with finding Lando’s favorite Italian spot on your delivery app. Soon enough, the food is ordered and all you have to do now is wait.  

Lando reemerges from the bedroom just as you pull open the front door to grab the food from the delivery person. He figures you’ve got it handled by the way you’re chatting nicely with them, so he busies himself with drinks. 

There’s a bottle on top of the fridge that looks vaguely fancy, and though Lando doesn’t know much about wine, Charles had gifted him the bottle a while ago for his birthday. He trusts Charles’ taste. 

He does his best to sound out the French on the label and shrugs, snagging two wine glasses to go along with it. By the time he finishes pouring a generous amount in each glass, you’ve just closed the door, joining him in the kitchen with a massive bag of food. His brows fly into his hairline at the sight. 

You twist your lips to the side in thought, wrinkling your nose as you study the bulging paper bag. “I might’ve ordered too much.” 

“Good thing I always rise to the occasion.” 

You glance up at him, setting it down on the counter in favor of sidling over to where he is, not even fighting the smitten grin stretching your lips as you maneuver yourself between him and the marble. 

His curls are damp, messily towel ruffled and starting to frizz as they air dry. He already looks more at ease, comfier than ever in a pair of loose black sweatpants and a white singlet. You make a mental note to remind him to wear white more. It makes his tan skin glow, and it makes you not want to take your eyes off him. 

Your fingers skate along the exposed skin of his chest, stopping once to push into those dimples in his cheeks that you love so much before moving up to link around the back of his neck. His hands find their way to your waist at the same time, sliding coyly under the hem of your shirt to rest on your bare skin. 

In one fell swoop, you’re up on the counter, Lando nudging his way between your knees. He kisses you languidly, like he has all the time in the world to explore your mouth; long, slow kisses mixed in with brief pecks until you’re all but melting against him. He’s familiar and solid under your touch, all flexing muscle and warm skin as your hands run along his arms. 

After a while, Lando’s focus shifts to trailing open mouthed kisses down the side of your neck. On instinct, you tilt your head to give him more space to work and he takes it gladly, focusing on that one spot just below your ear that he knows for a fact works on you every time. 

You sigh appreciatively at the pressure of his lips against your skin, the way his teeth nip at that sweet spot but his tongue sneaks out to soothe the sting just as quick. 

Your fingers dig into his biceps as he continues his venture, but when he starts kissing along your shoulder, you squeeze a little harder. As much as you want to continue this, you remember you’ve got food waiting for both of you. He stops immediately, perfect lips pouted, eyes wide when he comes back up to gauge your reaction. 

“Eat first, kiss later.” You explain, peeling him off you (albeit a bit reluctantly) before hopping off the countertop. He whines something unintelligible as you unload the food, but as soon as you push a container of his favorite pasta towards him, he seems to forget his disappointment. 

The silence as you eat is comfortable, both of you seemingly more hungry than you thought you were as the food and wine begin to disappear. All the while, the space between the two of you grows smaller and smaller, until your elbows start to bump each other with each bite you take. 

You’ve mastered the art of enjoying each other’s company without having to say a word. 

“Were you revising earlier? When I came home?” He asks after a while, jabbing his fork in the direction of your notes. A few strands of pasta splatter onto the counter with the action and you tsk, nudging him with your foot. The last thing you want is sauce all over your papers. 

“Yeah, I was. Just some final practicing, see if anything needs tweaking before I have to present my thesis.” 

“I’m sure it’s perfect. You’ve been working on it for ages.” 

You spear a chunk of tomato with your fork, dragging it around in the sauce aimlessly. “I dunno. Everything is there, but it still feels like something’s missing.” 

“Present it to me.” 

“What?” 

“Pretend I’m the university board, or whatever, and present it to me. Maybe you’ll figure out what’s missing if you act like it’s the real thing.” 

“Really? You’d do that for me?” 

Lando scoffs, looking offended. “Baby, I’d do anything for you. Go on, do your little scholar thing for me. I’ll be the best fake board you’ve ever seen.” You gnaw on your lip, unsure. The idea seems silly, but it’ll probably work. “C’mon, bub. You’ve got a genius brain up there in that pretty head of yours, let me see it in action.” 

“Okay. Okay, fine, but you can’t be mean! You have to be nice, ‘cause I’m already freaking the fuck out about having to present next week and I don’t think I can deal with—” 

“First of all, I’m never mean to you. Second of all, get the fuck up there before I take my offer back.” 

You stick your tongue out at Lando whilst you grab your papers at the other end of the counter, feigning swatting him with them as he bounces his way over to the couch. He settles in right smack dab on the middle cushion, grabbing a pillow to hug while you do a quick once over of everything. Then you’re ready. 

You stumble through your introduction a little bit, but the words start flowing a few sentences into the body of your research—days, weeks, months of work having burned them straight into your brain. The longer you talk, the more comfortable you become, which gives you the confidence to set aside your notes for once. Part of you feels like you’re about to clam up and forget everything any second now, but you don’t. You forge on like you were born to. 

All that comes to a halt when you hasten a glance over at Lando, who’s staring at you without a thought behind those gorgeous eyes of his, smiling goofily at you. 

“Lando!” You whine, pouting. “Have you even heard a word I’ve said?” 

Lando blinks a few times like he’s coming back down to Earth, letting a sheepish grin creep its way across his face. “Not really.” 

“Seriously?” 

“I’m sorry! You just look really pretty when you talk about things you’re passionate about. It’s hard to focus on words when I look at you.” 

Well, you can’t exactly be mad at him when he’s sweet like that. Besides, you didn’t think he’d understand half of what you were saying anyways, and you’ve found the answer to your problems. Nothing was missing. Lando was right, you’re fully prepared for your thesis presentation. You just needed to get your nerves out of the way. 

“Worst fake board ever.” You huff. 

“But I just said you look pretty!” 

You prop a hand on your hip. “Flattery will get you nowhere, Norris.” 

“Oh yeah? Nowhere, really?” He rises from his seat, creeping towards you with that glint in his eyes you know far too well. You know what he’s about to do, and you’re about ready to make a run for it. 

He bridges the gap between the two of you faster than you think possible, catching you around the waist right before you can make your great escape down the hallway, hoisting you off your feet with ease despite your wriggling around like a fish out of water, and hauling you over to the couch. He tosses you over the back of it just as easily, following suit before you can scramble away. 

Realistically, you should've anticipated the whip fast reflexes of a professional racing driver. Having a faster reaction time than the average person is part of the job description. 

“Lando, no!!!” You squeal, already breaking into a fit of uncontrollable laughter. 

“Maybe flattery won’t get me anywhere, but I know what might!” He pins you down against the cushions with your knees clamped between his own as he digs his fingers into your sides viciously, ignoring your pleas in favor of grinning wickedly. 

“I give up! I give up, please—” You gasp, squirming under his relentless torture. One of his hands comes up to pin both your wrists down easily, probably so you don't punch him in the face trying to escape. (You’ve done it once before, purely by accident, but Lando’s never let you forget it.) 

“Say that you love me.” 

“You already know I do!” 

“Wanna hear you say it.” He insists, jabbing you in the side threateningly. 

You shake your head frantically. You’re near tears at this point, stomach hurting from laughing so much. There’s no point in dragging it out any longer, especially when sweet, sweet freedom is as easy as telling the love of your life that you love him. “I love you!” 

“What was that?” He tilts his head, brows raising expectantly. 

“I love you, Lando Norris.” You repeat, as steady as you can despite your breathlessness. That seems to satisfy him. 

He gives it up entirely, wedging himself between you and the back of the couch, making himself comfortable as you try to catch your breath. You roll over onto your side so you’re facing him, allowing him more space to nuzzle against you. “You’re a dickhead.” 

“I’m your dickhead, and you love me.” He replies smugly, burying his face into the crook of your neck. His arms worm their way underneath you and link up behind your back, legs tangling with yours. At this point, you’re not sure where you end and he begins, which is just the way Lando always likes it. 

“Against my better nature, I do.” You sigh, dropping a kiss to the top of his head. He hums sleepily, exhaling in deep comfort. “I’m sorry you had a rough go of it today.”

“S’fine. Nothing you’ve got to be sorry about. You’ve already made it better.” He mumbles. He already sounds like he's about to drift off.

“D’you want to talk about it?” 

Lando lifts his head to look up at you, blinking slowly. He offers you a small smile. “Not really. Just wanna lay here with you and forget about it all.” 

“Okay.” You say softly. 

You might not be able to help him with everything in life, but this, you can do. You thread one hand through his hair, smoothing through his curls in that one way you know he loves. Your other hand comes up around his back, fingers scratching a gentle path up and down his spine. 

If Lando was a cat, he’d be purring right now. 

Instead he opts for an appreciative groan, pushing his nose back into the warm nook he’d created. His lips press against your skin—once, twice, a third time for good measure. “Thank you.” 

Whether he’s thanking you for scratching his back or for just being here for him on the days he feels like he’s not at his best, you’re not sure, but either way you give him a tight squeeze and another kiss in lieu of a response. 

You’ll do anything if it means making sure he knows you’ve always got him. 

follow @katsu-library to be notified when i post a new fic :)

[writingouthere]

friendswithbenefits!Sukuna x reader. Your friend Yuuji sets you up on a date with his co-worker to help you get over your recent slump, not knowing that his dear older brother had ended it months ago.

cw: none really, some possessive behavior

"He's really great though, I swear!"

"What does 'really great' entail, exactly?"

"Well he's nice! Like, super nice."

You waited to see if there was any more information and when there didn't appear to be any forthcoming, pushed your friend. "Yuuji, I'm going to need a little bit more than that."

Yuuji seemed to think about this for a second and as he did you snuck some dumplings off his plate. He'd taken more than his fair share of the take out anyway.

You loved Yuuji, he was one of the most genuinely kind people you'd ever met. He just happened to have terrible taste in men, aside from his own boyfriend.

"Well, when I got lost the other day, he gave me directions and they were super helpful!"

"Wait, did you find this guy on the street? Are you setting me up with a stranger?" It wouldn't surprise you, Yuuji tended to adopt human beings the way a normal person might adopt stray cats. You couldn't complain too much since it's how the two of you had ended up being friends, but it didn't necessarily mean that whoever he'd picked up off the side of the road this time was your one true love.

"No, no, he works in the school too. He teaches like history or something. He just teaches in the upperclassmen building, so I don't see him that much."

"So he gave you directions after you got lost in your own place of work?"

Yuuji either doesn't hear your tone or he chooses to ignore it. "Yeah, really nice dude. He's also good friends with Maki, so you know he must respect women."

That was actually pretty persuasive. Maki would never put up with any man who was a piece of shit, maybe there was something here.

"Is he cute?"

Yuuji scratched his head and tried to take some dumplings off your plate while you blocked him with your chopsticks.

"I mean I guess, he always looks kind of sad but you're into that right?" You blocked his attempts at stealing your dumplings with a little more aggression than necessary at that.

"I am not!"

Yuuji hummed unimpressed, chewing on the dumpling he'd managed to snatch away while you argued. Thief.

"He's like a little taller than me, pretty eyes and he's stronger than he looks. He actually beat me in some sparring matches last year when the teachers competed." You listened even as you scowled at the way Yuuji said all this with his mouth still full of stolen food. He swallowed and gave you a mischievous smirk. "He has really nice hands too."

"Yuuji!"

"They're big and his fingers are long but not too skinny, they kind of remind me of Megumi's-"

"Who the fuck are you talking about?"

You stiffened as Yuuji's older brother walked in, scratching his bare midriff since he seemed to have once again forgot that wearing shirts was an expected human behavior. Even though he was only a few years older than you and Yuuji, he always seemed larger than life. Maybe because you had known him for so long.

"Yuuta, this guy I work with," Yuuji said, pouting when his brother stole some of the food off his plate. Served him right. "Hey! I asked you if you wanted anything before I ordered it."

"And I told you, I don't want any of this garbage. I'm just sampling," Sukuna said as he popped another piece of chicken in his mouth.

"Go eat your stupid healthy food then and leave our garbage alone," Yuuji protested pushing the plate out of Sukuna's reach. Naturally, this led to Sukuna shoving Yuuji's head into the table as he reached over and stole more food off the tray in the middle.

"So why are you talking about Yuuta's hands anyway. You and Fushiguro finally call it quits?" Sukuna's tone was casual but you had once seen him knock out a guy for groping Megumi in a club. If the day came where Yuuji and Megumi actually broke up, you think he might take turns knocking sense into both of them.

"Mnat mor me."

"Huh," Sukuna said even as he kept Yuuji's face pressed to the table. You rolled your eyes.

"He's saying that he's not the one interested, he's trying to set me up with him." You tried to push down the guilt you felt as you spoke after all you had nothing to be guilty about.

There was a flash of something in Sukuna's eyes but it was gone before you could identify it and with one last shove that had Yuuji groaning, he let him up.

"That hurt, you bastard!"

"Not an insult, I'm literally a bastard," Sukuna said and Yuuji rolled his eyes.

"Whatever, anyway, back to helping you get laid-"

"Hey!"

"-I'll let Yuuta know you'll meet him at six?"

"Can you make it eight, only old people eat at six." Yuuji nods and goes to type something in his phone. There's an awkward silence that he doesn't seem to notice and you can't help but look at Sukuna who hasn't taken his eyes off you.

"Didn't realize you were so desperate," Sukuna says and Yuuji doesn't look up from his phone before throwing a punch at him. Sukuna dodges, his eyes still on you.

"There's nothing wrong with going on a date," you say and you wonder who you're convincing. "It has been a while since a nice guy took me out."

"Ah right, I forgot you liked nice guys." His tone is too knowing and you feel yourself flush.

"Stop picking on her, Sukuna. Don't you need to be going to the gym, anyway?" Yuuji asks, finally putting down his phone. He seems to attribute the current tension for you and Sukuna's usual animosity. You wonder if that's all there is to it. Sukuna scoffs and walks back to his room. You still weren't sure why he'd even come out in the first place.

"Whatever, you two have fun planning the wedding," he says, his tone making your hackles rise.

"Say hi to Uraume for me," Yuuji calls back, oblivious. "Tell them I still want a rematch after last week."

Sukuna waves a hand before shutting the door to his room. Yuuji turns back to you and the two of you talk about other topics while your mind wanders.

You weren't doing anything wrong. Were you?

You and Yuuji decide to meet up with Megumi and Nobara for a movie before you need to get ready for your date. While Yuuji goes to his room to change, you head to the kitchen to clean up the remains of lunch.

You're putting some glasses in the sink when you feel a warm presence at your back. You can't hold back your sigh as a familiar pair of thick arms comes to wrap around your waist and a pair of lips presses gently against your neck.

"I haven't seen you in forever," Sukuna murmurs, the movement of his lips against your neck sending a familiar pulse of want to your core. You tell yourself not to let the soft gesture get to you. He never did shit like this without a purpose and his usual purpose isn't going to be fulfilled with Yuuji in the next room.

"You saw me last week, Sukuna," you remind him before leaning away from him to close the dishwasher. His hands slip down to your hips and you just know he's staring at your ass. You roll your eyes even as he pulls you back to him once you're standing. His hands pressing into the curve of your hips, putting pressure on them in that way that makes you melt.

"That's too long, princess. I was getting lonely," he teases and you feel him smirk against your cheek. "You must be lonely too."

"Actually I'm just fine," you tell him but you tilt your head so he can kiss the skin of your face, your neck, the parts of your shoulders revealed by the stretched collar of your old t-shirt. You let him lull you into a false sense of security before he reminds you why that's a bad idea.

"Really? I just assumed you felt lonely and that's why you were agreeing to go on dates with losers you've never even met."

There it was. This was why you couldn't let Sukuna get soft with you. He never did it without returning your vulnerability with malice.

"Sukuna," you say and you go to pull his arms off you but he pushes you into the counter, you wince as the cold stone presses against your body. "Let go of me." Your tone is calm even as emotions band their way across your throat.

"I would, but you seem to get lost when I let you out of my sights. I mean you're going to go on a date with some high school teacher?"

"Your brother literally has the same job?"

"Well, are you going to fuck my brother too?"

"For fuck's sake, Sukuna, get off me!"

Sukuna does let you go but only so he can turn you to face him.

Sukuna doesn't get mad the way normal people do. Usually he's just amused, maybe even mildly annoyed, but blatant rage isn't his thing. After your years of-acquaintanceship? light antagonism?-friendship, you recognized this as the stage where he was about to make his insults increasingly personal until you needed to go cry in the bathroom later.

"We are not dating," you tell him and he rolls his eyes.

"Obviously."

"Therefore, I can go on dates with other people."

"I don't give a fuck if you go on dates with other people."

"Great, because I'm going to go on this date tonight."

"Good for you."

"Yes, yes it is good for me!"

"You seem really happy with your choices," Sukuna goads in that tone of his. You hate that tone.

"I am. I don't plan on just accepting whatever scraps some loser will throw me when there are actually decent guys who want a real relationship."

Sukuna narrows his eyes at you. "What's that supposed to mean?"

"I wasn't being subtle," you tell him before leaning back against the counter. Going for casual, knowing you're not quite hitting it. "Don't worry, I don't hold it against you. You can't give what you don't have, you know?"

"No, I don't know," Sukuna bites out and if he was anyone else, you would think you'd hurt his feelings but this wasn't anyone else and there was no way something you said bother him.

"You're just not a relationship person and that's-that's fine, I knew that before we started this thing. It's just, sometimes I want more." You soften your tone from earlier but it doesn't do anything to relieve the tension between the two of you.

"And this, Yuka is going to give you that?" He sounds bitter and he's not touching you. You'd been the one to tell him to back off but you couldn't remember the last time he hadn't had his hands on you in some way when it was just the two of you.

"I think his name was Yuuta," you correct before his expression tells you this is the wrong step.

"Right, okay. You know what, you go on your date and have the best time with Yuuta. I got places to be."

He brushes past you and goes back to his room just as Yuuji opens the door to his.

"Geez, what's his problem?" He asks as he makes his way over to you. You shrug your shoulders and he takes your lack of response as just your normal discontent with his brother and wraps his arm around your shoulder. "Don't let him get to you, he's just a dick."

"I know," you tell him and you do. You know Sukuna's true nature better than most.

You two make your way out of the apartment so you can make your movie and you try to ignore the guilt you feel as Yuuji talks to you.

"You know, he's actually been in a better mood the past few months. I think he might actually be seeing someone. Can you imagine who would be crazy enough to actually date that asshole?"

new series? wrote this to get the rust off so we'll see.

[reysdriver]

Sunday Roast | R.L.

Remus fixes a plate for you at dinner and it makes your heart melt — remus x gn!reader fluff

warnings: none :)

words: 0.5k

No one could ever go wrong with a nice Sunday roast as long as it was made with care, especially not the house elves working in the Hogwarts kitchen. 

When you walked in with your friends and saw all the food, it looked even better than usual. Now that you were sat down with your best friend Lily on one side and your boyfriend Remus on the other, you were excited to see if the food’s taste lived up to the appearance. 

 Just as you were about to grab some food for yourself, Remus took your plate and placed a juicy piece of chicken upon it. 

You looked over at Lily, who also noticed what just happened, and you both tried to stifle laughs before turning back over to Remus. 

“Um, handsome, I think you stole my plate there.” You informed him, even though you really didn’t care since you could just take his empty plate too. 

“I know.” He responded. “How many sausages do you want?”

You weren’t expecting that reply at all. That doesn’t mean it was unwelcome, but you weren’t really sure how to answer him now. 

“You don’t have to get my food for me, Rem.” You really didn’t want to come off as ungrateful, so you placed a hand on his side and tried your best to say it nicely. 

“I know I don’t, but I want to. You’ve got on a nice top and I know you’d be sad if you leaned across the table and stained it. So, how many sausages?”

If it wasn’t a medical impossibility, you were sure that your heart would have doubled in size at that moment. And if Remus wasn’t already your boyfriend, you would have confessed you loved him right there in front of everyone. 

Remus was the sweetest person you’ve ever met, and this was perfect proof of that. You wished you could say he was just extra thoughtful tonight, but he was always so perfect that it would be hard to pick out one peak moment. 

“Um, two please.” 

It was hard to hide how flustered you felt, but you hoped no one noticed.

“And gravy? On the side, of course.”

“Of course, thank you.”

Finally remembering that you two weren’t the only ones in the whole Great Hall, you turned back to Lily to see if she was watching what was happening. 

It turns out that Lily was observing the scene with an ear-to-ear grin strung across her face. That’s when you knew you weren’t imagining it, and that Remus really was the kindest person you knew. 

“What about veggies, dove?”

“Yes, please.”

You watched as he scooped out roasted veggies from the bowl, carefully trying to avoid the ones you didn’t like so much. 

After your plate was full, he placed it exactly where he picked it up from, and kissed the top of your head as he also filled your glass with water. 

“Thank you, Remmy. Love you.”

He told you that he loved you back as he started to assemble his own plate. 

As you picked up your fork and went to have your first bite of dinner, Lily leaned over to you and whispered the words ‘marry him’ into your ear. 

You chuckled, picking up a piece of cauliflower. “I will, don’t you worry.” You promised her.

[amazinglyegg]

What the companions would make you if they had access to a kitchen:

Cait

I'm thinking a nice stir-fry or rice with a shit ton of vegetables and PROTEIN

Of course she loves her protein

Hmm or maybe a lasagna. Nice and dense.

Whatever she makes, there'll be enough of it to go around

She gives off food insecurity to me so I feel like she prefers to take her food and eat alone most days

But you WILL have a shitton of leftovers!

Codsworth

A nice breakfast spread like what you'd see in movies.

French toast, eggs (sunny side up or your preference if he knows it), bacon, several options of cereal in those little fancy cereal dispensers, pancakes or waffles depending on your preference, fresh fruit laid out...

And of course a glass of orange juice

He wants nothing more than for you (and anyone else you're sharing the meal with) to sit down and enjoy while he cleans the dishes and helps out

Just like old times <3

Curie

Baking time!!!!

Cookies are her go-to

Does that thing where you use your thumbprint to make a heart shape and fills it with jam

They come out perfect every time. She leaves them out on a plate and they're gone within a minute

Just be warned she might eat the cookie dough. Would definitely make edible cookie dough just to eat it raw at like 1am

Danse

He's a protein shake and plain hard boiled eggs type of guy

He wouldn't make you a meal, but would mealprep your entire week for you

(It's just plastic tupperware of boiled eggs and like, one whole carrot)

If he HAD to make an actual warm meal it'd probably look exactly like Brotherhood rations

Mashed potatos, plain crackers, and some vague meat in sauce

Deacon

This man lives like he will be killed via sniper if he ever expresses a genuine feeling

So as much as I'd like to say he'd make a meal that's really important to him, he'd probably just grab the nearest cookbook and pick a random recipe

Not even he knows what it's gonna be like until it's made

He also doesn't want to be associated with a certain meal so he'll only make it once or twice. If you want it again then YOU have to cook it!

If he's completely alone and just making something for himself, then maybe a nice sandwich or sub

I don't know why but he just gives off sandwich vibes

Dogmeat

Can't cook

He would, however, oversee the situation and taste test when needed

Gage

Grill dad

He'd make like, ribs and baked potatoes. Nice and filling and also pretty damn messy

Not too big on vegetable but he'd also grill like, corn on the cob or maybe some skewers

Chicken wings perhaps???

Maccready

Weird food combinations is this man's bread and butter (or bread and ketchup)

He WILL hand you a turkey sandwich with ketchup and potato chips in it. And it will taste good.

Or like, steak sushi. Spaghetti on pizza. Mayo dumplings?

He can make basically anything, but he just has some really weird preferences

If you can get over the strangeness it's actually pretty decent

Nick

Toast and black coffee <3

That's it

I mean like he'll make you tea or something if you don't like coffee

Pre-war Nick always had toast and coffee for breakfast in the morning so it's nostalgic to him

Old Longfellow

"Oh he'd make a fish based meal" NO. He lives next to the water he's probably SO DAMN TIRED OF FISH

Chicken noodle soup maybe, but like high quality chicken noodle soup with some nice spices

Or maybe a pot roast??

Piper

Weirdly enough, as much as she loves sweets I feel like she'd be a much better cook than a baker

She'd make a nice well rounded meal with protein, carbs, 1-2 vegetables. Gotta make sure Nat's eating well

Not huge on spices though. Like your mashed potatoes will be buttery and smooth as fuck but you're limited to like basic box gravy and maybe salt and pepper.

I feel like she can and will make an entire turky dinner. Just out of nowhere. There's like 7 different sides and an apple pie Curie made.

Preston

Oh this man will make a MEAN stew

It's his go-to. He can share it if needed, have leftovers to feed himself for multie days, and it's versatile

I'm thinking either radstag or brahmin meat, or maybe a bone stock, but in the past he's made stews out of basically anything, from bugs to deathclaw meat

He also has a soft spot for campfires and would love to roast marshmallows or cook hotdogs or something around a fire

X6-88

Grabs an apple for himself and leaves.

The Institute eats SUPPLEMENT PACKETS there is NO WAY this man knows how to cook

He's probably a picky eater too, and he only likes those packets

He's gonna be living off a diet of applesauce and ensure for a long while

Honestly he might enjoy taking his food (any food) and putting it in a blender. It fixes the sensory aspect of it.

[bubbles0bop]

Hiii! Can we have some Inumaki, Hakari and Nanami bf headcanons? + Anyone you'd like OFC!! :3

Relationship headcanons with the JJK Men

Includes: Nanami, Hakari, Inumaki, Choso

I like this one, you have good taste. Anddd i did take some liberty of adding choso because i've been feeling like writing him as well

Disclaimers: strong language, no gender specified, mention of smoking

Nanami

He's the type of boyfriend that will be spoiling you goddamn rotten

every month is a new bouquet of flowers trimmed and set in a vase on the kitchen counter

same with gifts. you'll come home to see the outfit you liked at the mall but couldn't afford, probably wrapped nicely in a black box

he's very thoughtful and meticulous, especially with dates

he'll plan for a while and make sure it's something you'll love

since he works such terrible hours, he really likes his quality time so he expects to come home to you and do nothing but cuddle or maybe do something like read together

this is random but i feel like he would be a massive critique for no reason

like "sweetie did you notice how tangy this loaf of bread tastes? do you think we should go back there next time?"

or when you're watching a movie it's not uncommon for him to say something like "ugh, this is so unrealistic, she would never fall for that type of trick."

I also think he would accidentally be really into it if you guys watched a kdrama together

Hakari

he's the type of guy that would say "wear what you want, i can fight." period.

he loves to talk- a professional yapper, if you will- but you love it

he talks your ear off about his hobbies (gambling) and some stupid people he may have had to deal with that day

he's pretty nonchalant in general and doesn't try to stress a lot over trivial stuff which means fights wouldn't last long

i get kind of a vibe that he would smoke some herb from time to time but he wouldn't shove it in your face if you don't want him to

he would love to share a coffee with you in the morning, and would probably order you both breakfast

i feel like with dates he's totally going to go with the flow but he loves new things so there's always something for you guys to do together, whether it's movies, or clubs.

Inumaki

your time together can sometimes be... quiet. 😭

i imagine that he's big on physical touch and doesn't care much about PDA (but he won't go too far)

i think his top two love languages are physical touch and acts of service

he's the type of guy that would become your personal nurse if you are sick or get your period

he's also the type where if you were chilling on your phone or reading a book he would do it with you, enjoying some peaceful silence

the jjk fan book mentions that he likes to do Youtube which brings the thought of what would he do on there if he can't exactly talk like the average person?

i'd say he makes cooking videos or posts the pranks that Panda and him do to their friends

he loves to eat with you, it's your thing. he would cook or bring you out to restaurants so you guys could rate the food

you, of course, have also learned his 2nd language over time and unlike megumi, you sometimes respond just like Inumaki does

Choso

honestly if i were to guess, i think he would show his partner love by telling them. very directly.

He's not too much of a cuddler but he'll do it immediately upon your request

He has a dry sense of humor, so dry that no one really knows if it's a joke or not

i think he is more outwardly protective of you than most- so if he catches anyone staring he'll yell at them to 'fuck off!'

I also don't think he would hold his opinions back just to make people happy so if you ask, "how do you think i look in this?" he'll say exactly how he feels- not really in an a insulting way, ever-more truthfully than hurtfully.

he likes to do things that you enjoy, like shopping and he'll help you pick out outfits

he, himself, would probably suggest dates that are calm and intimate, like picnic dates, stargazing, and maybe going out for smoothies/boba

i feel like he would love to try boba after you tell him about it, because he likes sweet things over bitter (like coffee)

i could imagine him being the type to grab your waist from behind while you're busy doing anything

he also really craves your attention when you aren't near him, even if he doesn't say that.

[emithecharmer]

Shakespeare's Apprentice

Vampire!Hyunjin x human!reader

Warnings: One swear (kind of), vampires

"Soo.." I bit my lip nervously.

"What do vampires do exactly?" I asked, unconsciously bringing some of my hair over my shoulder.

"Stay out of sight, but you can see how that's going." Hyunjin chuckled, resting his head on his arm, turning to face me.

"Do you sleep?" He shook his head.

"Can you eat human food or-?" His lip curled up at that.

"We can, but it's not good." My jaw dropped.

"So, all of the times I cooked for you-" He perked up.

"Now, that was good. It reminded me of when I was human, your soup tastes like my mom's did." He smiled softly.

"Do you miss her?"

"Every single day. I stayed with her until her dying breath, she was a bit curious on why I hadn't aged, but..She never cared much about it." He chuckled a bit.

"Was it hard?" He shrugged.

"I think what helped was the fact she was my mom. I would hate myself for the rest of my life if I hurt her," He tilted his head to look at you, "or you." My heart fluttered and he smiled.

"Is it hard being around me?" I asked, turning to face him, although it was a bit difficult, due to us being in the car.

"Not at all. You're a breath of fresh air." I blinked, surprised at that.

"You're my mate, which means your blood has no appeal to me, only you do." I frowned.

"So, you wouldn't like me if I wasn't your- mate?" He shook his head.

"It's not that simple. A mate is..someone that we're tied to. It's someone that we protect, and that was..made for us? But not in a weird way..It's like..You know what a soulmate is, yes?" I nodded.

"It's like that."

"So we're soulmates?" He nodded at my question.

"Is it weird?" He asked, a bit self-conscious at the new ground he was treading.

"..Well, I mean, you are kind of a vampire, so besides the obvious, not really." He chuckled at my answer.

"'Kind of a vampire?'" I rolled my eyes at his teasing, gaining confidence.

"You know what I mean." He nodded, smiling.

"Your smile's pretty." I said without thinking.

"You're pretty." He replied, reaching out slowly, as if not to scare me, and grabbed my hand, holding it in his. I noted the temperature difference, but it somehow didn't bother me as much as I thought it might.

"Am I cold?" He asked.

"Yeah, but it's nice."

"You're really warm." He said.

"..Can I ask more questions?"

"Can I keep holding your hand?" I nodded.

"Then yes."

.

"What about kids?" I asked.

"I don't really know, I guess it's not impossible? But I'm not exactly an expert on the subject."

"How old were you when you were turned?"

"18."

"Do you know any other vampires?" He nodded.

"I have a coven."

"A 'coven?'" I tilt my head.

"We're basically a band of vampires." He explained in simple terms.

"Oh, right, duh, 'Twilight.' And a 'band?' Ooh, i'll buy tickets." He snorts at my lame joke.

"I'll get you a backstage pass." I smile.

.

"So, what do you do? I mean..I hope you don't do what the Cullens did." He groaned.

"Heck no, I think we'd kill ourselves doing that. I paint, and sell them online. Chris, our 'sire' or 'leader,' whatever he is, he produces along with Bin and Jisung, all online. Minho sells recipes and Felix does the same, but he's also a masked gamer on Twitch and YouTube. Seungmin is a masked singer, along with Jeongin, but both of them kind of dabble in their interests." I nod, entranced as he talks, and i think he notices based off his smirk.

"Don't make me wipe that smirk off." I warn.

"Don't threaten me with a good time." He teases back, smiling softly as he looked into my eyes. "They're gorgeous," he continues, "your eyes, I mean. The rest of you is beautiful too, but your eyes make me feel like i'm somewhere else..Like i'm," he struggled to find the words, "human."

"Ok, Shakespeare, don't go all poet on me." He laughed, leaning in.

"Forgive me, my love, I must have forgotten how small-minded you are."

"Oh really? I'll show you small minded." He laughed again as I struggled to open the car door.

"You may want to try unlocking it."

"I was testing you."

"Ah, of course." He didn't call out my lie as we both got out of the car from where we were parked in the riverfront parking lot.

"Is this how you change me, drown me and then sink your teeth in me." His eyes widen at my joke.

"I would never! But yes, drowning is typically the way we go." He said, obviously joking and making me roll my eyes. "One of these days, they'll get stuck up there."

"Damn, okay mom." He huffs, smiling, but it soon disappears as he looks up to the sky.

"What is it?"

"It's going to rain soon, we should head back, I'll drive you home."

"....Or..." He turns to me, his brow furrowing.

"What?" He asks as the first few drops fall onto the smooth rocks under our feet.

"..Well, and call me crazy if you must, but uh..We could dance." His face softens for a split second before he smirks.

"Who's Shakespeare now?"

"Uh, still you, babygirl. I'm just super-uber romantic." He smiles, walking to me and taking my hand in his, laying it gently on his shoulder, taking my other hand and interlacing it with his.

"Luckily, i am too." He smiles, and I swear my heart stops as he leans down, pressing our foreheads together.

"I'm glad I met you, Hyunjin." I say as we sway to the music that can only be heard in our hearts.

"I'm eternally blessed that you've chosen to grace me with your beauty."

"Someone call up Italy, cause I got Shakespeare right here."

"I take it back." He says, before kissing me softly.

[evanpeterspeter]

AN: In celebration of me being on my period, (yay being a woman..) I figured, why not there be head cannons of the Evan’s response to you being on that time of the month. It’s something small but why not. Theres also a little bit of NSFW, so fair warning.

Ps. It is my birthday today 😽🫶

TW: Blood, NSFW, oral, fingering, unprotected p in v and stuff

———————————————————————————

Tate Langdon

———————————

Tate would set up a heating pad for you and

Grab you your favorite book to read

.

Play your favorite music and rest his head on your lower stomach, in hopes the weight of him might help the cramps.

.

Would pepper kisses everywhere to help distract the pain

.

He would sit criss crossed on the bed facing you and will rub your clit to help ease the pain, until you finish

Kit Walker

——————————

Kit would kiss your lower stomach and give you a deep massage where your uterus lays

.

Would buy you chocolate and your favorite desserts

.

Would do all the house work and chores for you, whilst you get plenty of rest (He'll be wearing your frilly apron while doing all the work)

.

He would dick you down so good, it'll cure those cramps by how deep he hits in you, completely bottoming himself out

Kyle Spencer

—————————

Kyle would take you out for a nice dinner

.

He would take you shopping and even surprise you with flowers

.

He doesn't know what exactly the difference is between pads and tampons, so he buys them both.

.

He is very respectful when it comes to sex on your period and no matter how horny he is, he'll always respect your boundaries. Which turns you on.. so now you guys are going missionary

Jimmy Darling

———————————

Jimmy would take care of you like as if you were sick

.

His mom would also make you some soup and home baked buttered bread, then he would hand feed you

.

He'd make sure that nothing and nobody would bother you

.

Would finger fuck you so hard, that your legs would shake and quiver afterwards.

James Patrick March

——————————————

James would make everything romantic no matter what

.

Would set up a warm bubble bath with candles, with rose petals on the surface of the water and with a glass of wine on the side

.

Would pamper you and caress you up and down, leaving kisses and love bites all over

.

Would kiss up your thighs and eat you out. Even when it's all a bloody mess, he loves the taste. Especially since it's you

Kai Anderson

——————————

Kai isn't really the kind to pamper you. He thinks it's being vulnerable

.

You're only allowed to skip one meeting for cramps/major discomfort, but you would have to make it up to him later

.

He also gets irritated when you're PMSing, but will soon apologize, not by words but by showing physical touch, such as in hugging behind you, nuzzling your neck and much more

.

Kai's idea of curing your cramps is to fuck you with a vibrator hard and fast. Your whole body and core will be shaking after, and once you finish he'll rail you to the bed. No protection, no towel, he'll leave the blood everywhere to show what mess he created from you

Warren Lipka

——————————

Warren would let you lay in his flannel and will spoon you in bed, placing his warm hands over your lower belly to cradle

.

He would pass you a blunt to ease the pain and to help you relax

.

He's too lazy to cook, so he'll probably make you a bowl of cereal

.

He would let you ride him all much as you wanted. Until of course when he finishes in you.

Peter Maximoff

——————————

Peter would do anything for you, no matter how crazy the request might be

.

Would "buy" you junk food in seconds

.

He would let you sit on his lap while you play one of his video games on the tv, while rubbing your lower tummy in a circular motion

.

Sure he's fast, but you don't know fast until he finger fucks you and using his other hand to rub your tender aching clit like a vibrator

———————————————————————————

Tag list: @evansonlylove @xrag-dollx @warrenlipkaswife

[demonslayedher]

You might recall I made a comic about Tanjiro's most dastardly Taisho Secret being that he adds charcoal as a secret ingredient in his rice.

EDIT: Please note that charcoal itself is indigestible, and Japanese charcoal is cooked to a very high level of purity. Please do not randomly stuff for lighting a barbecue into your rice, as I cannot make any claims about how safe that stuff is.

@reicchel remembered the aforementioned comic, and when we saw bamboo charcoal being sold with this advertised purpose, she gave me a look that said she wasn't going to let me get away with not putting it to the test. After all, I am kind of passionate about Japanese charcoal and its cultural implications, as well as how that gets used in Kimetsu no Yaiba (see here and here and here). I also usually only bother cooking if I'm doing a Kimetsu Kitchen thing (the posts specifically about the characters' favorite foods are here, but everything KnY-food related is in the tag.)

I have had no chance to even open the package of bamboo charcoal until now. This is partly because I have been busy out of my brains with work and partly because I hate cooking and am therefore loathe to add even one more step. However, this was the easiest Kimetsu Kitchen experiment I've ever done.

Bamboo charcoal is often sold as a natural dehumidifier, odor absorber, and bug-repellent to throw in your cabinets and stuff, but this was sold as clean enough for using in rice cookers and jugs of water for making mineral water (which I haven't done yet, seeing as I was too lazy to even open the package until today).

Speaking of today, I was having Mugen Ressha feels so I decided to recreate Tanjiro's dream meal, which happened to include Rengoku's favorite, satsuma-imo miso soup. That's become one of my favorite Kimetsu Kitchen recipes, though I haven't made it for a while, because I am lazy and busy. I do make a lot of miso soup because once you open a container of miso you have to use it really consistently to have any chance of using it all up, but satsuma-imo miso takes a little extra time and effort to get the potatoes all nice and soft, so lately I just through in some tororo konbu (Iguro's favorite food). I also picked up some nice big yellow takuan to make it closer to the Mugen Ressha meal, and since I was experimenting with bamboo charcoal and Takeo has bamboo in his name, might as well as what dream!Takeo likes to snag from big bro.

So anyway, the charcoal!rice got done.

Since I'm been so busy with work, that means I am in the habit of slamming food quickly instead of taking the time to enjoy it, so I'm just eating quick and easy and not especially enticing food while distracting myself with YouTube videos. This evening, after doing more weekend work, cleaning up the kitchen so I could set up the above photo, and putting aside leftovers, I was pleased with the photo result but then automatically went back to the YouTube video I had been semi-watching as I sat down and started putting food in my mouth without pausing to consider saying something like "itadakimasu."

But then I paused--

----what had I put in my mouth?

Why was it... so heavenly????????

Like, I legit froze with my chopsticks in the air as I started chewing that first little bite of white rice. It was exactly as I had Tanjiro describe it in that silly piece of fanart: "The natural minerals in the charcoal act on the rice to make it soft and fluffy."

Softest, fluffiest rice I've ever had, easily. But it's also exactly as the other Corp members cannot help but exclaim--how is it so freaking good!?

So like... I took my time with that meal. I chewed, slowly, thoroughly, like you're supposed to. The takuan and satsuma-imo miso soup likewise tasted simple and wonderful. It was best while the rice was warm, and I don't know how my leftovers will taste tomorrow, but I'm looking forward to it.

And I'm gonna make some mineral water too. The charcoal enthusiasts sure were not kidding about this rice.

[felassan]

Mass Effect: The Official Cocktail Book (Part 1 of 2)

[you can get the book here]

Drink, food, and other lore blurbs from this book. (The book also contains the associated real-world recipes and photography thereof. This post only contains the in-world lore segments).

this post is Part 1 of 2. Rest of post is under a cut due to length. [Link to Part 2]

If there's a particular drink/food you'd like to see the recipe and or picture for, lmk.

Introduction: Written in 2184 CE by “Ambree T’Sia”, identity classified It’s a big galaxy out there. Numerous planets and their inhabitants, all jockeying for power, prestige, and precedence. With these competing agendas often clashing, seldom mixing, sometimes you need a swig of something stiff to get you to the next Relay. Well, you’ve come to the right place. And me? Nine hundred years (give or take) and a variety of careers and aliases later, I hustle my way through the galaxy by the name of Ambree T’Sia these days. It’s the one fiction that allows me to keep the rest of the story honest – with varying degrees, depending on the situation. What I can share is this: a former asari huntress, I left the military bureaucracy to lead a small covert unit of ex-commandos focused on espionage and assassination outside of official channels. More effective and more fun that way. In my earlier years, I quickly learned that the best way to collect information is to buy a merc a drink or talk to the entertainers. The more I relied on bars and nightclubs to gather intel, the more connections I made with the key players. Not just the ones in the back office, but the ones slinging drinks with closed mouths and open ears. I started posing as a bartender myself and got quite good at it. Enjoyed it, even. I couldn’t exactly stay put for, well, reasons. But among those in the know, I’m still the go-to source for recommendations about the Milky Way’s best bars and nightclubs. After one too many “you should write a book!” jokes, I did. Guns and bribes in this economy? A cocktail guide seemed like an ideal little side hustle to help fund my more targeted activities. With this pen name, I’m free to share my favorite anecdotes about well-known figures across civilizations. I’ve also included a few safety tips for surviving the galaxy, setting your drink on fire, or respecting local drinking ages. (If you’re not legal, close this book up and come back when you are, babe.) I guess I just don’t believe in accidental injuries. For those feeling brave, go ahead and speculate about who I truly am. I’m not worried in the least. Because you won’t guess, and I’ll never tell… -- “Ambree T’Sia”

MIXERS Whether you’re slinging the hard stuff or milder “hair of the FENRIS Mech that bit you” drinks, mixers are the essential building blocks to any good bar. By all means, keep your favorite fruit juices, sodas, and whatnots on hand. But as someone who tends to move around a lot due to my… profession (I’m a master of the Asari Goodbye), I tend to lead a minimalist lifestyle. As such, I keep these mixer recipes on file to prepare quickly, as I need them. Let’s just say that they’ll keep your cocktails interesting.

Blue Thessia

Yes, mama is supposed to love all her babies the same, but this mixer is my favorite for its taste and versatility. (Hmm… sound like any cocktail authors you know?) Named after the asari homeworld, the Blue Thessia is the crown jewel of your bar essentials. You’ll predominantly taste sweet juniper and recognize that bold, asari-blue color. You could make your drinks without Blue Thessia, but that’s programming a Quantum Blue Box type AI and not giving it a sexy voice. What a wasted opportunity! Do be aware that this one contains trace amounts of element zero – nothing to concern yourself about, though, and it does keep things nice and sparkly.

Tuchanka Dry

This is the good stuff and it’s very hard to come by, which is why I make my own. Tuchanka Dry is similar to a fat-washed bourbon, which not only adds the flavor of the fat to the spirit, but also its texture and weight. If you’re making a Full Biotic Kick (page 43), well, this part’s the “kick”. Traditionally made with Thresher Maw fat (I did say it was hard to come by), this recipe started as a krogan rite-of-passage celebratory drink, when leftover fat from the kill was mixed together with alcohol. If you prefer dodging grocery carts over acid spit, you can make your own and get a surprisingly similar taste by substituting bacon.

Horse Choker

I’ve often found fighter pilots to be aggressive and competitive, so it delights me that this recipe I procured from a hot-tempered Alliance pilot named Jeff “Joker” Moreau Is instead indulgent and harmonious. The chocolate and espresso flavors combined with the spiced rum work oh so well together in a luxurious cooperation that especially enhances minty drinks. But don’t take my word for it – if you’re feeling a little spicy and hot-tempered, you might find this mixer helpful when you toss back a few shots of Joker’s Challenge (page 98) with your closest frenemies.

Simple Syrup

An essential building block for cocktails. Any well-stocked bar has a traditional simple syrup on hand. If you’re new to cocktail making and a bit apprehensive, start here – just add sugar to boiling water. See? Simple. As you’ll see, I prefer twice as much sugar to water. It’s on the richer side and your mileage may vary, as they say. Be aware that you don’t want to let too much water evaporate, or the syrup will reduce and cook down to something resembling krogan poetry: thicker and sweeter than expected. (Try to get past one stanza of Blue Rose of Illium without rolling your eyes out of their sockets, I dare you.)

Salarian Salination Solution

Successfully made your way through the Simple Syrup recipe (page 13) but still feel like you need one more easy win? Perhaps a mixer that’s ideal for citrus-heavy cocktails? Make this bartender’s saline next and keep in mind that science doesn’t always have to be complicated. Science is also very useful, and you’ll find this mixer in a variety of recipes throughout this book. (For the more adventurous, the Liquified Turian on page 57 is a must.) Now, if you think adding sea salt to warm water isn’t exactly “science”, then your name isn’t Sel Vass – a double-crossing salarian bartender who fancies himself an “intoxicologist”. I have… thoughts on that, which is why I’ve named this Salarian Salination Solution after him. And if your name is Sel Vass, I’m going to add your kidneys to my next bar menu – preferably with you still alive. (I’ve heard that when the Protheans did this to your ancestors, they found the fear adds “spice”).

Tupo Concentrate

I love a good Tupo Concentrate: it has a delicious balance of mouth-puckering tartness and euphoric sweetness. The only problem? I can never find any berries! Tupari sports drink-makers horde as much as they can to sell “12 trillion bottles per day”, despite only containing 10 percent real tupo juice (goddess only knows what the other 90 percent of that swill is). Fortunately, grenadine is a perfect substitute for when you’re looking to add a beautiful hue and unexpected depth of flavor to your cocktail.

Drell Skin Venom

Like bitters, Drell Skin Venom adds a nice bite, making your cocktail extraordinarily complex with just a few drops. Now, you might think that enough Drell Skin Venom may grant the memory-recall properties of its erstwhile secretor, but it’s more likely that the high alcohol content (which keeps it in heavy rotation at swanky bars like the Silver Coast Casino) will create more plot holes in your life than the salarian extranet drama Dynasty of Stars (with the same amount of nausea - stick to science, you excitable little amphibians!)

Asari Honey Syrup

For the occasions where you’re looking to spice things up, I’d suggest using this honey syrup. It’s just as versatile as its simple syrup sister but adds a bit more flavor. This particular mixer has a spicy little background as well: the original recipe was made in an Ardat-Yakshi monastery and its honeyed flavor is as alluring as its makers. Considering said makers enjoy nothing less than total domination, however, this syrup is unexpectedly collaborative with numerous drinks and flavors.

AFTERLIFE CLUB What is Afterlife? Why, the ultimate in illicit entertainment. Iconic, chic, ready to show you a good time… but mind your manners. Under all that polish, Afterlife is seething with violence just under the surface. A locus of power and secrecy – is it any wonder the glitzy club sports an ethic of violence and greed? And that’s just how this nightclub’s patrons, and its Pirate Queen, prefer things. Aria T’Loak oversees this particular multilevel palace of paradise and perdition on the space station Omega. And yes, its lure entices millions around the galaxy to leave their ordinary lives for extraordinary adventures, so be sure to show her the proper respect. She’s shot people she liked far more for way less. The recipes in this section are her top sellers – perfect for when you’d rather spend the night in than risk getting poisoned by a batarian bartender with a grudge against humans.

The Omega Sling

This cocktail is a personal favorite of mine from Afterlife for a reason. It’s sweet, tart, bitter, fruity, and spicy all at once. A complex little thing, and a single-serving punch that can also pack one. While it’s definitely a drink made to impress (look at that list of ingredients!), for me, it tastes like personal accomplishment. I once led a raid on a CAT6 outpost that nabbed enough high-end military gear to outfit my crew for a long, long time. It was a bastard to plan, just like the Omega Sling, but that only made the victory that much sweeter.

Blue Sun Spritz

Did you know that the Blue Suns mercenary group was founded by a batarian named Solem Dal’serah? That’s the public-facing story they’d prefer you believe, at least. And to celebrate said founding, Solem toasted the group with this hard-hitting wine spritz. The color ends up being a rich deep blue – a little on the nose, maybe, but it lands most satisfyingly on the tongue.

Tuchanka Sunset

Don’t ever let anyone tell you that krogan don’t have a sense of humor. I used to run with a Battlemaster in my early days whose wit was as dry and vast as an Asterian desert. We survived an Eclipse double-cross by the skin of our teeth, and when we got back to our dingy little hideout, he toasted our fortune with a Tuchanka Sunset. His own personal recipe. He claimed the bartenders at Afterlife know how to make it, if you ask. Now, I love a good sunset drink and as such was appalled to watch him dump black rum on top of an otherwise flawless concoction. Sensing my shock, with a wry half-smile he said, “Well, yeah, wouldn’t be a sunset on Tuchanka without a choking cloud of toxic ash to ruin the view now, would it?”

Serrice Ice Brandy

I find human Alliance officers to be particularly dull and single-minded. So new to space, with such a short lifespan, few know how to relax and have fun. Not so with their medical personnel: disgruntled, overworked, and with the romance of military life quickly snuffed out by the harsh realities of combat, they know how to put the Rs in R & R. Serrice Ice Brandy always reminds me of a particular Alliance officer named Karin Chakwas, very posh and put together, who got a little salty after a drink (or several) of the stuff.

Sovak Juice

Have you heard the one about how krogan males name their infants? According to salarian scientist Padok Wiks, they get drunk on sovak juice and hold belching contests. Apparently, whatever sounds most like a word becomes a name. I doubt there’s much validity to this claim (although… Wrex?) but I still remember the young krogan merc I renamed after a night of tossing back these nutty, bubbly little things together. It’s been a while, but I do sincerely hope Urp is doing well out there. [note on recipe: “Garnish: For sovak juice? Come on, now.”]

Noverian Rum Swizzle

Seeing as rum is a liquor made with sugarcane molasses or sugarcane juice, one might associate it with warm, tropical climates. One would also be wrong and very much missing out on one of the finest varieties in the entire galaxy. I refuse to make this drink with anything less than quality Noverian rum (and Asari Honey Syrup, of course). Once you’ve had a taste, you’ll understand why Aria T’Loak was so sulky after Purgatory’s stock of the stuff ran out. Though, to be fair, having her entire empire occupied by Cerberus General Oleg Petrovsky may have also contributed to her sour mood. For that authentic touch of frost, I recommend harnessing biotics to give your stick the right amount of swizzle.

DARK STAR LOUNGE Dark stars, as a theoretical curiosity, could be extremely powerful. Dark Star Lounge, an actual bar, definitively serves extremely powerful drinks. Located on the Citadel one level up from the C-Sec office in Zakera Ward (a convenient perp walk away when patrons get too rowdy), many bartenders are happy to give customers exactly what they ask for… the “usual” being a thumping hangover. If you like your drinks stiffer than a turian’s carapace, you’ve flipped to the right section. Higher-proof spirits with a higher spirit-to-mixer ratio for a higher class of drinker, Dark Star recipes do not disappoint. I trust you can handle it… and if you happen to wake up next to an attractive stranger the next morning whose name you can’t quite recall, I recommend breaking the ice over some Huevos Rancheros à la Vega (see page 12, you charmer).

Batarian Ale Shandy

If you’re not a krogan or batarian, please don’t drink uncut batarian ale. It’s mean, it’s green, and it will leave your insides clean. Instead, use this recipe to make yourself a refreshing and fizzy shandy. Yes, a human Spectre managed to stay on their feet after chugging a glass of the uncut ale – at least that’s what one Dark Star Lounge bartender claims. But ask yourself: Are you really the type? I’m reminded of a naïve bar patron cosplaying in plastic N7 armor he convinced his poor wife to buy him (along with his shuttle-fare off world, understandably). You’re not “truly extreme”. Do yourself a favor: Check your ego and enjoy the Batarian Ale Shandy.

Dark Star Vespertini

No trip to Dark Star Lounge is complete without ordering this signature cocktail, the Dark Star Vespertini, especially if you have a bit of a sweet tooth. I’ve included the recipe here, at great risk to certain of my… relationships… at the lounge. It’s simply too delicious not to share, with a rich chocolate-raspberry taste. Be sure to shake this one well – for the nonbiotics who need to do this task manually, I liken it to the amount of time until you start to worry your arm will fall off. If it feels like you’re giving the tumbler a quick ride in an M35 Mako, you’re doing it right.

Ryncol Cocktail

Listen up, tough guys. I promise you that bartenders are never impressed when you swagger up and ask for “the strongest you have”. In fact, just to make sure you embarrass yourself in front of your friends, they’ll probably slap on a fake smile and pour you a tall glass of krogan ryncol. Never heard of it? They certainly don’t advertise the stuff. But for fun, let’s spitball some potential slogans: “Ryncol! It hits aliens like ground glass,” or “Ryncol! It’s like sipping knives,” or “Ryncol! It’ll set of radiological alarms.” Just ask a certain Commander Shepard. And enjoy your purple prayers to the porcelain goddess…

Paragade Punch

While Tupari sports drinks are all the rage, don’t discount Paragade! Especially in cocktails. By itself, it’s not too good and it’s not too bad, but mixed with alcohol, it’s somewhat of a revelation. This recipe gives you a layered drink that starts out sweetly and ends with a real kick to the quads. Perfect for those nights where you might hold your tongue at one bar only to start throwing chairs at the next. It takes a deft hand to get the blue-purple-red proportions right when you’re making one, and to get the ending you want after a night of drinking them.

Dextro Heat Sink

Like a boilermaker, the Dextro Heat Sink is a great way of making strong alcohol stronger. During his Archangel days, Garrus Vakarian and his crew would slug these like candy as they racked up wins against the Blue Suns, Blood Pack, and Eclipse thugs on Omega. This is a sweet and spicy tequila cocktail (the “heat”) with a dropped shot of Ancho Reyes liqueur (the “sink”). An unlimited amount of these might be fun at first, with the occasional pause to blow some heat off your tongue, but it’s advised to keep them to a finite amount.

Turian Horosk

Considering the rigidity of turians, you’d need a pretty strong drink to loosen them up enough to get the wedgie out of their thermal armor. Enter: Turian Horosk. Another Garrus Vakarian favorite, you’re not going to find this outside of a handful of bars, and certainly not at the posher Silver Coast Casinos of the ‘verse. So, if you’re looking to calibrate your soberness in the opposite direction, here’s the recipe for you. The lemonade flavor helps it go down easy and the spices are optional – the hangover from too many rounds of this, however, is not.

PURGATORY BAR The Citadel is a tourist trap. Humans tend to view this as a disparaging label, but I say it with great enthusiasm. For my credits, there’s no better way to take in the sights than as a lowercase t tourist, and there’s no better place to do that than the Citadel. If you have the time, a bar named Purgatory serves drinks that are especially heavenly. If you like new takes on classic cocktails with a slightly higher mixer-to-alcohol ratio, sip on these before taking in the sights and sounds of the Presidium. And if you’re just not convinced it’s worth the visit, well, at least you can whip up these drinks at home. And do take your Citadel recommendations with a grain of salt when you’re there (barring the guide currently in your hands, of course). Especially ones coming from the hotshot human Spectre making the rounds – that one will endorse anything for a discount.

Frozen Pyjak

The best part about tending bar? The customers. I learn a little about a lot just by listening. The worst part about tending bar? The customers. Sometimes I don’t have to listen too intently, as their volume increases with their alcohol intake. For fun, I used to give my loudest customers a freebie: the Frozen Pyjak. I overheard Samantha Traynor boasting (loudly, ironically) about this and it sounded too entertaining not to try it out: Every few hours, you empty your spill pad into a martini glass and toss a little ice in for presentation. This is a much nicer variation for you to make. All these ingredients go incredibly well together, so you can serve it to people you actually like. [note on recipe: “Garnish: Well now, that would defeat the point.”]

Full Biotic Kick

My curiosity for the Full Biotic Kick was piqued by a charming young Alliance comms specialist named Samantha Traynor who extolled its virtues. Apparently, this was the most popular drink served when she worked “extensively” as a bartender during her university days… for a whole four years. I understand humans consider this quite the span of time – how quaint. I believe the “kick” comes directly from the Tuchanka Dry, and if you’ve ever faced down a biotic krogan Battlemaster (and lived to tell about it), you’ll understand why.

Vodka Skycar

As the Citadel became increasingly populated and its denizens spread across the wards of this colossal space station, they began to rely more and more on a centralized mode of transportation. Enter the skycar, a maddeningly slow shuttle that, though nowhere near as glacially paced as Citadel elevators, redeems itself with some of the most incredible views in the galaxy. When I need to slow down, I make myself a nice Vodka Skycar, get lost in its pretty sky-blue color, and hire an ambling ride around the glittering Citadel Tower. Magical.

Rojo Loco

Everyone loves a good Rojo Loco: C-Sec, pirates, accountants, politicians, hunky Alliance marines who think pull-up contests and cute little nicknames might get you into their beds (full disclosure, they can, and they have… cheers, James Vega). Because underneath all the stories everyone tells themselves about themselves, at the end of the day, all any of us are really looking for is to enjoy a bit of spice and heat. Maybe that’s a firefight. Maybe that’s filing paperwork. Either way, this drink ticks that box and gives you the same warm tingle.

TM88 Smash

I love a good rebrand. TM88 used to be known as “Merc’s Courage,” because drinking enough of the stuff gave one the false sense of strength that often comes with getting absolutely hammered. Salarians especially took a shine to this Earth-based whiskey and swore it had medicinal properties… when really it was the shortest distance between two points to get a person drunk. Ever the opportunists, salarians branded TM88 as a cure-all and “the only alcoholic drink endorsed by the Medical Board of Sur’Kesh.” Alliance officer Kaidan Alenko credits the stuff for his speedy discharge from Huerta Memorial Hospital. So, drink up! Doctor’s orders.

ETERNITY Due to its extreme opulence and high level of security, the asari-run planet of Illium is a preferred tourist destination and (second, third, fourth) home of many of the galaxy’s most well-known celebrities. It’s also under a state of near-total surveillance. You can take their self-congratulatory media touting Eternity as “the sexiest bar in the Milky Way” with a few handfuls of salt (though with Matriarch Aethyta slinging drinks, “sexiest bartender” would be harder to argue with), but don’t sleep on their drink selection. I have a soft spot for asari drinks, as you might expect. I find them to be sweet and mellow and think Eternity gets them right. I’ve collected a few of my favorites for you here. Regarding the Liquified Turian (page 57) backstory, well… who can say if that one’s legit? But seeing as the normally stringent customs laws of Council space on safety and sapient trafficking are relaxed on Illium, I can’t say I’d be too surprised.  

Mystery Drink

I understand mystique. It’s a powerful weapon that can influence your enemies before you ever need to fire a shot. I also understand bullshit and am very good at differentiating the latter from the former. So, when I first heard this Mystery Drink is rumored to come from “the deepest reaches of the Traverse,” distilled on a “shadowy nameless planet” by “specifically adapted Vorcha,” alarms were ringing in my head. Until I had a sip. Deceptively fruity and floral but highly intoxicating with an otherworldly appearance, well, does it matter where it came from, especially if you can get the same fabulous taste using syrup from canned lychees? No. In the case of this delicious little Mystery Drink, it most certainly does not.

Asari Honey-Mead Bellini

Made in an Ardat-Yakshi monastery, asari honey mead is for those with taste. And, let’s be honest, credits. Whoever said “the best things in life are free” was compensating, because this expensive little drink is worth the experience. Ever the one to push boundaries, I prefer to prepare my honey mead with sparkling wine to make an effervescent little bellini, because the sweet and mellow flavor mixed with bubbles positively sparkles – in the glass and on the soul.

Perfection

I once crossed paths with this pretty little human who called herself Miranda Lawson. Despite her formidable intelligence, killer biotic abilities, and, well, let’s just say her “superior physical constitution,” she seemed to be… missing something. She didn’t say and I didn’t press, but we shared a drink whose taste was as excellent as the woman pouring. Asking her what she called it, she gave a sad smile and simply said, “Perfection”. Indeed. To her surprise (and delight, I might add), I sweetened the affair with a shot of strawberry liqueur and told her, “Yes, but there’s always room for improvement, dear”. Hmm. I wonder if she ever found what she was looking for.

Memory Stealer

Ah, Kasumi Goto. The best thief in the business. You don’t remember her and she prefers it that way. She’s so good, she’ll even nick your memory of her ever having been there… along with whatever valuables you had in your pockets. When I do have the good fortune of remembering her, I like to pour this drink made with Japanese gin in her honor. And like the master thief herself, one too many Memory Stealers will no doubt leave you with a hazy recollection the next morning.

Liquified Turian

“Ambree,” you say. “Certainly, Matriarch Aethyta’s story of a krogan drinking liquified turian on a bet is embellished? A tall tale? Urban legend meant to titillate, disgust, and delight?” Maybe. Regardless, it’s one of my favorites, so I made this drink in homage (and to capitalize off the story – your girl is nothing if not quick to make a quick cred). I use a tequila base, with agave being native to a desert climate like you’d find on Palaven. Of course, I use egg white for the smooth texture, plus saline to stabilize this particular choice of “protein”. And the blue curaçao, well, turian blood is blue, after all! Mm, you can almost taste the dextro-amino acids. [note on recipe: “Garnish: No embellishment needed with a backstory this impressive.”]

FLUX

Flux is one of the more recent night spots to open on the Citadel and boasts a casino in addition to a well-stocked bar. The atmosphere is almost as inviting as the volus who runs the place – alternating between owner, cook, and bartender, one wonders where Doran finds the energy. But at some point, you’ll be sure to find this little macaroon from Irune shaking his pressure suit on the dance floor.

The recipes I’ve collected from Flux are, as you can imagine, fun and whimsical. Seeing as Doran spends an equal amount of time in the kitchen as he does behind the bar, you can also find a fair bit of culinary flare in the drink preparation. Enjoy yourself, Earth-clan!

Tupari Blast

Despite the volus being a race not cut out for physicality of any kind, their mastery of trade and commerce has helped Tupari sports drinks conquer the galaxy. It seems like you can’t swing a dead CAT6 without hitting a vending machine of the stuff, and Doran has a particular fondness for it. I’d be remiss to not include it here, both for its delicious taste and because of how well it sells. Its strong fruity flavor makes it a consistent Flux favorite. It’ll give you the courage to get on the dance floor and the electrolytes to stay there until closing time.

Rum Relay

A toast to the Mass Relays! Forgive my (brief, I promise) indulgence in sentimentality, but the Relays have brought together an array of intelligent life whose differences remind us of how we’re all pretty much the same: unsure of our place in the universe, but in our best moments willing to teach and learn from our Milky Way sisters and brothers. No one understands that better than Doran, and what better way to celebrate it than by sloshing a Rum Relay milk punch all over the dance floor as you boogie the night away.

Blasto Sting

This one unironically loves the Blasto franchise. The acting, the writing, the backdrops? High camp, babe. A human essayist, Sontag, wrote, “You can’t camp about something you don’t take seriously. You’re not making fun of it; you’re making fun out of it.”  And what’s more fun than adding cream to grape Pucker? It creates a hanar in every shot. Try my favorite drinking game: gather your friends, fire up Blasto Saves Christmas, and throw back a Blasto Sting every time he says, “Enkindle THIS!”

Denorian Beer Granita

Krogan are not known for negotiation. If you find yourself mediating with one for goddess’ sake do not show up empty-handed. I tried to bluff my way through just such a situation once and you wouldn’t be reading this book if I hadn’t had ingredients for Denorian Beer Granita on hand. I developed a fondness for Denorian beer from Urdnot Wrex, but this cocktail takes it to another level. In a desperate attempt to cool tensions, I offered to make a round of this unique drink with its smooth taste, fun texture, and visually appealing look. The krogan got the recipe and I got to walk away (with a little extra pep in my step from the caffeine). Win-win.

Tasty Tankard

What can I say? I’m a Matriarch with a Maiden’s tastes: I like a pretty young thing on my arm, a warm Acolyte pistol, and a heaping bowl of human ice cream. Chocolate, if you’re taking notes. The Tasty Tankard is essentially a boozy milkshake, and I urge you to ignore anyone who tries to tell you that drinks made in a blender only belong in cheesy resorts. This one goes down dangerously easy, and the recipe makes enough for two… or one krogan with a sweet tooth. If that krogan happens to be Grunt, I advise having enough on hand to fill a large enough container. Perhaps a flower pot’s worth? [note on recipe: “Serves: 2… or 1 krogan.”]

CHORA’S DEN Not for the faint of heart, Chora’s Den on the Citadel is the “livelier but deadlier” choice to stop for a drink. A gentleman’s club owned by a scoundrel (novel, I know), the clientele and drinks lean heavily towards the strong and seedy type. The loud music and low lighting do well to cover the bloodstains and less-than-legitimate conversations, but you’ll have a great time if you mind your business and tip the asari dancers well. Be sure to ask Fist, the proprietor of this fine establishment, about the back room – it’s perfect for your next shady deal. And I’m not one for gossip, but if you’re curious about the smell, I’ve heard Fist has a habit of burying “old problems” under the dancers’ stage. The following recipes evoke the Den’s more… aggressive tendencies.

Tequila Se’lai

Whether you’re human, turian, or salarian, we’ve all got our shared little “catch phrases” we catch ourselves saying: “Embrace eternity” if you’re asari, “Victory or death” if you’re krogan, ★heavy breathing intensifies★, if you’re volus… you get the idea. I quite like the quarians’ “Keelah Se’lai,” or “By the homeworld I hope to see one day.” Tragic but beautiful. This recipe is an ode to their homeworld, Rannoch, with desert and coastal flavors all brought together with a lovely prickly pear syrup.

Elasa

I’m not really a “drown your sorrows” type of gal. I’m more of the “drown you in a hail of incendiary ammo if you upset me” type. To each their own. If you lean more on a shoulder and less on a trigger, you can’t go wrong with an Elasa, aka Sorrow’s Companion. (They’re not joking when they say it serves one…) Pale green with a bitter aftertaste and tangy sweetness, it’s a great way to take life’s lemons and make lemon garnish for your cocktail (or limes, in this case). Fist, ever putting the gentlemen in gentlemen’s club, used to refer to this drink as The Cynthia, a snide reference to Elasa being Alliance Commander David Anderson’s preferred drink during his divorce.

Quad Kicker

Not for the faint of heart, the Quad Kicker will, well, kick you straight in the quad, I suppose. Samantha Traynor is adamant about “no curry powder” in her version, but why take away that spicy mouthfeel? Add that curry simple syrup and let this baby wake you up! It ain’t called the Quad Fondler, so step up and throw down with your friends (or enemies).

Shadowbrokertini

I hope by this point you’ve come to realize that I know everything that’s worth knowing. Yet I humbly admit that, try as I might, I’m still unable to unmask the Shadow Broker. But I am familiar with their agents, including a certain proprietor of Chora’s Den. And even though Fist refuses to confess what he knows (which, I suspect, is even less than I do), he did agree to collaborate on a cocktail worthy of that confidential entity. Dark, shadowy, and with enough caffeine to help keep one sharp in the secrets-trading game, the Shadowbrokertini theatrically uses dry ice to add an air of mystery. I trust you don’t need the Shadow Broker’s services to know that swallowing dry ice can kill you, yes? [note on recipe: “(Note: Some Shadow Brokers prefer it without lime at all.)”]

The Erotic Biotic

I suppose I should start this one off with a warning: Don’t underestimate young asari. Yes, there is a strong drive for at the Maiden stage to explore and experience. Curious and restless, some look for the nearest bar to dance in. But that’s no reason to let your guard down. Many don’t realize their mistake until they’re telekinetically slammed into the nearest concrete wall. Well, that’s just the ratio of risk-to-reward that Chora’s Den captures with this drink. With a winky flavor profile of fruit and cream, finish your Erotic Biotic with Drell Skin Venom to add a tingly bite (for the adventurous types), or with chocolate bitters (for the romantics). I like a bit of both – I may be a Matriarch, yet I’ve never lost that desire to explore and experience…

The Shifty Cow

While I’ve heard just about every maxim in the ‘verse, one rings particularly true: “You can’t trust any animal that can milk itself.” Yes, I’m talking about space cows, with their unsettling, grabby little hands. Turn your back around one and they’ll pick through your pockets. The Shifty Cow cocktail is a clarified milk punch. And that’s partly because it’s fun to separate the milk solids from the drink, but also because I’m reminded of these audacious little cows eagerly separating an unsuspecting fool from their credits. And yes, we do have that in common, which reminds me of a human maxim: “Don’t hate the player, hate the game.” You win this round, space cows.

-----

[you can get the book here]

[amomentsescape]

I would like to know what a slasher relationship would be like with a hybrid fem witch/vampire. Sorry if it makes no sense, English is not my main language

Slashers with a Feminine Witch & Vampire Hybrid

A/N: This a great Spooky Season Request!

Freddy Krueger

He thinks it's hot, of course

Wants you to bite him just for the hell of it

His blood doesn't taste very good though (he's dead) so he tries to make up for it in other ways

Always brings home a body for you

But if that's not really your style, he'll happily come back with a jug of blood instead

Wants to see the types of spells you can cast

He turns it into a competition sometimes

You both go back and forth using your powers to change things around

Secretly wants you to use your powers on his victims with him during his murder sprees

If you enjoy feeding on bodies, he wants to be there to watch

Everything about it turns him on to be honest

Michael Myers

Probably the most neutral of the slashers

He kinda just lets you do your own thing for a while

Is not too sure about you feeding off of him at first, but he secretly loves it now

He thinks your spells are pretty cool too, but he just doesn't show it much

Will definitely take advantage of your powers though if he is having trouble with a victim

He hates asking though since he very much wants to do everything himself

You insist on healing him whenever he is injured even against his objections

As long as you don't intervene too much with his killings, he lets you do whatever for the most part

Just don't kill his target first

Jason Voorhees

Will definitely supply you with enough blood to last a lifetime

He's very giving with everything

You're hungry? He's sure he can find a lost soul in the woods

Need a certain plant for a spell? He'll keep an eye out for it while he wanders around

Likes to sit with you while you learn new spells and listen to you explain everything you're doing

Honestly, you being a hybrid makes him feel more comfortable

He knows that you can take care of yourself while he's gone

And you living within nature where people and animals pass through is perfect

Unlimited food and seclusion to work on your magic is exactly what you want

It's a win win all around

Thomas Hewitt

When he first learns about what you were, he was honestly kinda confused

He had heard of witches, and he had heard of vampires

But only through a fictional sense

And even then, he didn't know that someone could be both

Would need you to sit down and explain everything to him

The whole family is supportive of your taste in food (clearly)

They just use the meat, so they're happy to give you all the blood first before going to work

They're a bit iffy about your spells and powers though

Satanic spells would be a hard no in their books

As long as you use your magic outside of their home, then they all couldn't care less on you being a hybrid

Bubba Sawyer

You eat people? Cool, same.

But the witchcraft thing is going to take some getting used to

He grew up being told that all forms of witchcraft are evil

So you'll need to sit him down and explain everything you do

Has a weird fascination with watching you drink blood

The first time you casted a spell in front of him, he jumped

But just like a little kid in a toy store, he was quick to show his curiosity and want to see more of your spells

Slowly grows to love it

He has never met anyone supernatural before, so having you around is like living in a movie every day

Will go out with you to pick plants and herbs

May even help you set up a little garden out back

He has quite the green thumb

Brahms Heelshire

His family was pretty religious growing up, so the witchy part is pretty concerning to him at first

The vampire thing is also a bit annoying

He wants to be able to sit down and eat a normal dinner with you every night

But your diet is very particular

Living in the middle of nowhere is nice since you can go out and find plenty of animals to eat if needed

But the lack of people and Brahms never wanting to leave the house makes it difficult for you at times

You probably have to venture outside alone a lot which he doesn't like

But when at home, he grows to appreciate your spells more

The home is clean in a snap, his food is ready in just a second

Definitely becomes even lazier and wants you to do everything for him

He's still a child at heart after all

Norman Bates

He's honestly a little scared of you at first

Vampires and witches are in every evil tale, and he grew up correlating them with monsters

But he cares about you too much to let you go completely

Prefers for you to drink blood outside of the home

But if there happens to be a body left in one of the motel rooms, he's fine with you venturing in there and doing what you need

He just doesn't want to see it

You've tried using your powers to help clean the motels rooms, but he honestly prefers to do it the old fashioned way

Avoids telling his mother about you being a hybrid

He knows it will just be her screaming in his head every day if he does

He does show quite an interest in the different plants and herbs you collect however

Billy Loomis

Doesn't really believe you at first

"Prove it"

When your fangs pop out and your spell is cast, he is quick to widen his eyes

"Do it again"

Has a thing for you feeding on him

He finds it quite pleasurable honestly and would rather keep the bite mark than have you heal it up

Likes to join you outside at night and hold you while you conjure up spells

May want you to join him and Stu during their sprees to help them out from time to time

Invites you inside whenever they're done with all their victims so you can eat

Lays in bed with you at night and watches you use your magic to make pretty light shows on the ceiling

Thinks it's sexy

Stu Macher

Also needs you to prove it to him

Gets the biggest grin on his face once you do

"That's hot"

Likes watching you feed from his arm

Wants you to go to every killing spree with him and Billy

If you can't, he brings back a couple containers of blood for you

Watches supernatural films with you and constantly asks if each scene is realistic

"Can witches do that?" "No, that's clearly fake, Stu"

Wants you to use your powers to pull pranks on people in public

Also wants you to use your powers to help him steal things from the store

Buys you cute crystals for your room

Asks you to conjure up a puppy on a daily basis

Eric Draven

Loves the aesthetic of it all

The candles, plants, night time adventures, everything

If you're hungry, Eric may beat up a bad guy and let you finish the job

Just don't kill anyone innocent (or cats)

Doesn't mind if you feed from him

Kinda finds it romantic and always holds you close to him, rubbing his hand down your hair

Likes to see the spells you can cast

The ideal night for you two is sitting out on the roof together, him playing guitar and watching you try out new spells and casting your magic

Likes when you use your powers to send him little love messages in the night while he's gone

Enjoys laying in bed with you and watching you create little images on the wall

[milkcookiekin]

in honor of Valentine’s Day coming up soon and me wanting to write for other fandoms besides phighting, here’s a treat for the zombie of a fandom we call yakusoku no neverland <3

(of course, this is after escaping to the human world!)

Emma would 100% be the type to take you out on a picnic date. she planned out everything, the scenery with the fairy lights wrapped around the trees, the sunset looks perfect, the food tastes delicious, but it also looks so cute and you feel bad for eating it. she reassured you, and she also just has the cutest little smile on her face while you eat peacefully, she’s just really happy to be spending time with you. you guys end up snuggling as you watch the sunset and just talk about your random thoughts together.

Norman would either take you out on a library or a fancy dinner date, he wants the date to be casual, but also not enough to where he looks like he didn’t put much thought into it. throughout the whole date, he’s happily listening to you ramble about your interests and he makes mental notes so he knows what to buy for you later during the date. though, he’s also very shy and nervous, he doesn’t talk that much throughout it all because he just wants to listen to you, and shaking every time you guys touch even the slightest bit.

Ray on the other hand, is much more comfortable with the idea of having the date be as comfy as possible. he decided a nice date at home on a rainy day was his favorite way to spend Valentine’s Day. he doesn’t really make this occasion a big thing, but he does his best to show his affection. he reads to you with a soothing tone as he plays some soft lofi music in the background, but he’s not actually all that interested in the book, he’s more interested in seeing your reactions, especially as the rain helps lull you to sleep, and he smiles softly. you guys end up falling asleep together all cuddled up with each other.

Don would take you to a big theme park, and you guys go on as many rides as possible before the night rolls around. if you’re afraid of heights, then he’ll take you to an arcade instead, and he actually ends up winning you a lot of prizes and gifts, which is exactly what he wanted, because he wanted to impress you, but you reassure him that spending time with him was more than enough, and he swore he felt butterflies in his stomach for the rest of the night. (he ended up not getting any sleep, he just thought about the date the whole night)

Gilda would most definitely take you out shopping, buying clothes and plushies, and overall just having a fun time. she helps you look for outfits and accessories she knows you’ll love, and has you try them on like you’re on a runaway as she’s complimenting you and cheering you on endlessly! if you’re more self-conscious, she’ll hug you and let you know that you’re absolutely gorgeous, and that nothing could ever change that..

(bonus if Gilda almost gets into a fight with a Karen for being “too loud” while she’s cheering you on)

[parvulous-writings]

Oooh, I have a request idea!! How about Gale, Halsin, Astarion and Wyll or Karlach (if that's not too many ;-;) with a modern S/O from our world that makes them try a bunch of food from this dimension. I'd love to see their reaction to trying Soda or other Carbonated Beverages, and naturally seeing everyone's reaction to canned food - especially the kind that stays in the exact shape of the can even after you dump it into a bowl 🤣

Just imagine giving them this bad boy and being like "Bon appetit!" :D

I like to think they'd be horrified 🥰 Thank you so much !!

Summary: I do love me a little whimsical AU, I can't lie - so this MAY go into the realms of silly, but you know what? It's going to be fun! It also may be a bit all over the place... but you know what I think it fits XD The scenario is kinda the same for all of them - I hope that's okay!

Warnings: Some are a bit shorter/longer than others! Other than that... I don't think there's anything!

Notes:  My requests are currently open! My pinned post (found here) contains both a list of characters I write for, and a masterlist!  Original character list - please request for these too!

Gale

Out of everyone, Gale would probably be the most at-ease with you coming from another realm - he finds it absolutely fascinating.

He's asking questions all the time - is there magic in your universe? No?? What do you do, then??

You tell him about technology, and he is hooked. You start talking about electricity and immediately he's taking notes (mental or physical).

"I think I might actually have something you can try, Gale" you pull out of your pack a can of Coke (that somehow had survived the trip), and a tin of cranberry sauce that you had hoped to take home, before being whisked away to the land of Faerun. You offer him the can, and he just stares at it for a moment, observing it.

"And... what is this, exactly?" "It's a drink." "I fail to see how-" click "... Ah"

Isn't sure how the bubbles feel on his tongue - he almost spits out the drink the first mouthful he has. Doesn't mind the taste itself though - he would probably drink it flat, if he had the choice to.

"It's... Nice..." He seems mildly uncertain of this statement. "Though, I think I will stick to wine, and water..."

You telling him you can preserve food in metal near indefinitely? Pure 'teach me' moment. He will want to know EVERY secret on that front.

The tin of sauce confuses him. You tell him that it's sauce and he's eager to taste it - he's always on the look out for new flavours, as the self-declared cook in camp. Fish and potatoes can only keep you going for so long, until your tongue starts craving a new flavour.

When you present the unchanging... thing to him, he has no idea what to make of it. "That's... Not sauce. In fact, I don't even think that's edible - that looks like a health hazard."

He straight up refuses to use it that night, like he will not go near it, nor will he let it near the food.

Halsin

Halsin doesn't really talk about you being from another realm all that much - it doesn't overly concern him, now that you've got his trust.

He likes hearing stories of your life -even though you have to explain 90% of what you talk about to him, he's always eagerly listening to whatever you have to say.

Will not touch anything in a can - drink or otherwise.

"I... Do not feel right in trying this... my apologies."

You will not be able to convince him, whatever you try and do, he just... Doesn't want to listen to anything about that. If you keep trying to push him on the subject, he'll probably end up just walking away.

Though he's aware that preserving foods is probably a good idea for the long run, but after having heard the fizz from the can of coke? That's... A no go, for the time being.

Astarion

Astarion couldn't care less where you came from - so long as you're not going to stab him in the back, he's fine with you. You could be a crawling claw for all he cares - so long as you don't hurt him he really does not care.

Astarion doesn't typically eat anything other than his usual sanguine meals now that his affliction is out in the camp. This doesn't stop him from making snide comments on the food, though. And he makes especially snide comments when it comes to drinks - which he still partakes in quite happily.

"What do you mean... Fizzy?" His lips draw up slightly in a half-sneer, not being particularly drawn to the idea of... Whatever it was you were offering him. Though, he supposed, because it was you... He'd give it a go.

He manages to keep the beverage in his mouth after a sip, but the face he makes is beyond a grimace - clearly, he was not expecting that many bubbles.

Now when it came to the tinned sauce - or any tinned food for that matter... He'll simply laugh. "Now, I know we're short on supplies, darling, but... I don't think you'll get anyone to eat that." "Let me put it this way... If something like that was for my meal, I'd be running for the hills! ... And probably washing my mouth out with soap..."

"I am so glad I do not have to pretend I'm eating with you... Because that-" He points emphatically to the can-shaped food. "Would not, and will not, be going anywhere near my lips!"

Wyll

Wyll is curious about the realm you come from, but doesn't normally pry. He figures that, if you're going to reveal anything about your home land, you'll do it in your own time, when you're comfortable. If you start talking about your home and your life, Wyll will do the same, to show that he's not taking the conversation for granted.

Wyll actually LIKES carbonated beverages. He savours the feel on his tongue - it's like nothing else he's ever had before, and he's instantly wanting more. If you ever do figure out the realm-hopping thing, you'll have to bring him some more - possibly some different brands or flavours for him to try.

"So... These beverages... They can... Taste of flowers, and other delightful things?" Wyll hums pleasantly at this thought. "Well, I know we have... Similar things, here in Faerun, but I am most intrigued on your realms' flavours... As pleasant as it all can be, you can only handle so much of the same..."

Though canned food doesn't.... Really seem appealing to him, he'll still give it a good try! He's down to try any food at least once.

He's not keen on the appearance of the cranberry sauce, but he has some with some turkey you've roasted, and he's in love with the taste. Sure, the appearance could use some work, but beggars can't always be choosers - at least it tasted delicious!

Absolutely LOVES tinned vegetables. He's not sure why - he knows they've got a very different taste and texture to their fresher counterpart, but... There's just something about them that he can't get enough of. Tinned carrots especially.

If you give him the chance - and Gale for once isn't trying to make dinner - Wyll will try and find a way to include tinned foods. He will get everyone to like them, he's certain of it.

Karlach

Karlach LOVES hearing anything and everything about your home realm - from the mundane to the even mundane-r. You have a special tub to bathe in, not made from wood? And it has running water, like a river, that you can control?? That's one of the coolest things Karlach has heard of - and she longs for a way to try and bring that kind of plumbing to Faerun.

Karlach isn't fussed on the Coke can you offer her - she'll drink it, for sure, but if there's the option of another drink, then she'll probably opt for that first. Purely for the reason that it's a relatively new sensation compared to the other kinds of fizzy found in drinks across Faerun.

Like, fermentation has a kick, but in comparison, carbonation is a roar, that Karlach needs a little adjusting to - she has the best reaction out of the lot of them, I think.

"Whoo- that's... Hah, that's something, soldier... And how often do you drink this? Once a day? ... Several? Several cans of this a day?" She laughs quietly, shaking her head. "You're braver than me at some things, soldier."

However, when it comes to tinned food... She loves it. She's not even sure why - perhaps it's just the fact that she loves food. You show her the sauce first, and she doesn't even bat an eye at the fact that the sauce had retained the shape of the can. She sniffs at it, before just picking it up and taking a bite.

"A little sharp... But not bad!" Another bite. "You're meant to eat that with meat, Karlach," "Huh? .... Ah, well - still tastes good like this!"

She's not as fond of tinned veggies, but she'll still eat them. Normally dinner will now start with. "Aw, what? Don't we have anymore of that red stuff?"

[tgmsunmontue]

Season to Taste - 29/? WIP

Explicit Hangster - Celebrity Chef Bradley and Naval Aviator Jake Seresin who have a relationship spanning the globe before they realize how tightly bound they are to one another. Heading into this little world.

PROLOGUE/ONE TWO THREE FOUR FIVE SIX SEVEN EIGHT NINE TEN ELEVEN TWELVE THIRTEEN FORTEEN FIFTEEN SIXTEEN SEVENTEEN EIGHTEEN NINETEEN TWENTY TWENTYONE TWENTYTWO TWENTYTHREE TWENTYFOUR TWENTYFIVE TWENTYSIX TWENTYSEVEN TWENTYEIGHT

CHAPTER TWENTYNINE

                It feels like he’s done nothing but cook for three days, his arms are sore from kneading dough and turning the handle on the pasta machine; he’s also drunk too much and he hasn’t had enough sleep. Filming isn’t this much hard work. Silvia had tutted and told him America was making him soft, and he supposes it has been, because nothing puts him through his paces like a big family wedding where he and Leandro are cooking the food. It’s one of his and Vi’s cousins, not one of the one’s he’s closest to, but it doesn’t matter.

                They’re all family.

                He’s coming to learn he’ll do anything for family.

…            …            …

                “I bought you something.”

                “Yeah?”

                “I don’t know what it is, but the guy in the store assured me it was food.”

                He hands Bradley the jar and he recognizes it instantly.

                “Lotus roots. Nice. Thanks sweetheart.”

                “Hmm. I’m going to try and find something you don’t recognize.”

                Bradley snorts, smirks and raises an eyebrow, thinks about all the crazy ingredients he’s either worked with or that have featured as part of ridiculous cooking challenges in some of the shows he’s been a part of.

                “Well, good luck…”

…            …            …

                Bradley stands behind him, rests his chin on Jake’s shoulder as he slices the pepper for their omelette.

                “Just…” he wraps an arm around Jake’s waist, smiles as he feels Jake press back into his body. Then he rests his other hand over Jake’s. “Let the knife do most of the work. It’s sharp and gravity is on your side. Just pull back and drop, it’ll go much smoother…”

                “Jesus fuck Leo…”

                “What?” Leo asks, breath warm and damp against the side of Jake’s neck like he doesn’t know exactly what he’s doing.

                “We’re meant to be making breakfast.”

                “Mmm. Would rather eat you…”

                “God you’re corny.”

                “Rhymes with corny…”

                He leaves the peppers half cut on the bench.

…            …            …

                Ninety minutes later, showered and definitely starving now but definitely sated sexually Jake walks through the apartment. Leo has shooed him out of the kitchen, adamant he’ll work faster alone. Poured Jake a cup of coffee and told him to go and curl up on the sofa. Except it's his first time here in Leo's space and there are so many photos. He recognizes Vi of course, and then Leandro and Silvia because Leo has shown him pictures on his phone, and he’s going to be having his first video call with them this coming week, which he isn’t nervous about at all. He’s studying a picture of what he would bet large chunks of money is Leo and his parents, and he feels Leo step up behind him, circling his arm around Jake’s waist.

                “Are these your parents?” Jake asks, and he knows they are, recognizes Nick Bradshaw from the research he’d done when he’d realized Leo was more linked to the Navy than Jake had previously thought.

                “Yeah.”

                “Anyone ever tell you that you look a lot like your dad?”

                Leo laughs, nuzzles a kiss into the side of Jake’s neck.

                “Yeah, all the time. Breakfast will be done in two minutes. You want to keep being nosy?”

                “Yep. You’ve already had your chance.”

                Leo grins at that, kisses him on the cheek and then leaves for the kitchen again. He keeps looking at the photos, and he knows what he's looking for, Leo's elusive godfather. He doesn't think that he's going to get that lucky, that Leo will just have a photo of him out. But... Yeah. He's done some more digging since Admiral Kerner confirmed that Uncle Tom and Iceman were one and the same. He knows now that Nick Bradshaw flew with Pete Mitchell and he was flying when Leo’s dad died. That Maverick and Iceman were wingmen.

                So the fact that Leo has never mentioned Maverick is what makes a little silent alarm bell ring in his head. That maybe this man is Leo's godfather and in regards to all aspects Leo is a well-adjusted and mature adult. Except when it comes to his godfather. Of course, even with Captain Mitchell cleared, it doesn’t mean Leo doesn’t still blame him, so that could be the reason. There could be another person out there who Jake can have a little silent vendetta against. Jake came hold a grudge like no one else, especially against people who have hurt people he loves. And he does love Leo.

                Yeah.

                Maverick Mitchell better hope he never crosses paths with him.

…            …            …

                “Honey! I’m home! God you both better be fucking dressed! Tell me you’re dressed!”

                Bradley lets out a long breath, but Jake is grinning, then throwing back his head with laughter, standing to reach out and envelope Vi a hug and he feels a surge of happiness that they get on so well; realizes that he hopes Jake feels the same about him getting on with his family.

                “We’re dressed!”

                “You mean you don’t want a show?”

                “No. Definitely not interested in that kind of show… however does smell good. Is there any left?”

                “No, I didn’t make enough for three…”

                “Where has the love gone?” Vi exclaims dramatically, and she’s making the face which tells him she’s in a shit stirring mood. Fucking great. “L’amore si misura in piatti cucinati,” Vi sates, grin sly and Bradley flushes, because he’s there. He’s so there in terms of loving Jake, and the fact that he just seems to make everything feel so much easier and fucking Vi knows that, but…

                “What did she say?” Jake asks, and Bradley wonders how much he already understood, because Jake definitely understands more Italian than he lets on.

                “Love is measured in cooked dishes…” Vi says, failing to look innocent and Bradley huffs in mild annoyance.

                “Hmm. Is it also measured by eating them?”

                Bradley’s eyes shoot up and Jake is looking at him, one eyebrow quirked up and his heart does a little skip in double-time.

                “Yeah,” Bradley breathes, “we can make that a house rule…”

…            …            …

                “Did you want to do anything tonight?” Bradley asks, hours later, curled up on the sofa and watching a documentary about the Antarctic. Vi has come and gone and it’s just the two of them until they’re wheels down in Texas tomorrow morning.

                “We fly at eight tomorrow, would like to make the most of every minute we have alone…”

                “I know. Me too… just. It’s New York. People generally like to catch a show or go out somewhere nice for dinner. Just… am happy to go out if you want.”

                “No babe, I want to stay right here with you. Will leave the fine dining experience to Phoenix…”

                Bradley grins up at the ceiling and can’t help but press a kiss to the back of Jake’s head.

                “Yeah? What does she have on her list?”

                “Some famous place… she had to make a reservation months ago apparently. Not my type of thing…”

                “Oh. I’m well aware of that fact. Trust me. Uh. Do you know what restaurant she was going to?”

                “Uh. Yeah. Tartaruga Blu. Italian right? That’s why I remembered the name. She said it’s been on TV or something… Have you heard of it?”

                Bradley lets out a nervous laugh, glad that they’re alone for this, reminds himself that he doesn’t think Jake will care.

                “Ha. Yeah. Yeah I’ve heard of it. It’s… Um. It’s actually where I work. Usually.”

                “Your steady job when you’re not flying around cooking for the rich and famous huh?”

                Bradley blinks, because that’s not wrong exactly; but neither does it capture celebrity chef either; he’s just going to have to be more obvious. Remembers what Maria said about Jake being smart as a tack but also sometime wilfully and blindly oblivious to some things that he just didn’t register as important.

                “I… wouldn’t put it quite that way. But yeah, I guess so. I’ve been on TV. A bit.”

                “Have you now?” Jake asks, and Bradley can hear the amusement in his voice, feels him shift carefully on the sofa so he’s facing him, Bradley leaves his arms around him, kisses the gentle smirk off Jake’s face, so glad to have him here.

                “Yeah.”

                “You going to forget all about me when you’re all rich and famous?”

                “No. That’s never going to happen,” Bradley says, because it hasn’t yet and he’s pretty sure it’s never going to and he’s prepared to work at that too.

…            …            …

                “Oh, I need to give you your key back…” Jake mutters, fishing the key out of his pocket. It has a little Lego minifigure attached, dressed in chef whites and he’s kind of attached to it for some weird reason.

                “No. That’s your key. I got it cut for you.”

                “Uh. What?”

                “You can’t move in with me, but you can come stay whenever you want. In fact, I kind of expect it if you’re in town.”

                They’re words, still not I love you, but it’s what they mean. Like the sly way Vi has talked about love being measured through cooking, like she knows how Leo feels about him. He’s going to tell Leo that he loves him, use the actual words despite how terrifying it feels to say it to someone who isn’t his family or Javy. He’s confident his feelings are returned, the way his sisters and Vi tease them both. However he’s not beyond avoiding the subject, the airport terminal is definitely not where he first wants to say the words.

                “Well, five-star rating. Food wasn’t bad, bed was super comfortable. Company was the best part though.”

                The almost bashful smile Leo gives him is gorgeous and Jake hip checks him, pushing him toward their gate. He wonders if he can find a Lego minifigure wearing a naval aviator uniform, give Leo a key to his apartment. Because it’s as practical as Jake having a key to his place. However it’s not the practicality, it’s the physical acknowledgement of something more and fuck, they’ve only been doing this for eight months, but… he wants eight years or no, eighty years.

                Yeah.

                That’s a good place to start.

…            …            …

                Somehow they’ve been bumped to business class and Jake is not complaining about the extra legroom, because he hates flying commercial, but this is actually nice. And he has Leo to talk to, which makes a nice change. He settles in beside him and reaches for his hand.

                “What? You a nervous flier?” Leo asks, and he’s got a shit-eating grin on his face, clearly thinks he’s being funny and Jake rolls his eyes.

                “It’s not my favorite, but I’m not nervous.”

                “Mmm. I’ve always loved flying. Every part of it.”

                “And maybe I just want to hold your hand. Ever consider that?”

                Leo rolls his eyes, squeezes his hand hard and Jake retaliates by starting a thumb war, which he frustratingly loses because Leo somehow has double-jointed thumbs which are gross and freaky. He lets Leo know what he thinks and Leo smirks and leans in close ‘you’d still let me but my gross double jointed thumbs all over you…’ and Jake hates that he’s right.

                “So, uh, I’ve been thinking… You want to meet my mom?”

                “I… do you want me to meet her?”

                “Yeah. It’s just, uh, you know…” Jake trails off, because he’s talked about her dementia more than once, Leo isn’t oblivious to it or how Jake feels about it.

                “I’d love to meet her.”

…            …            …

                They arrive and it’s a whirlwind of people and family lunch. It’s nice not to be cooking, instead both Maria and Olivia keep asking him about the different dishes and Jake is smirking and shaking his head.

                “Hazard of the job…”

                Bradley will happily take that, and he’s glad he was able to bring a range of cookies, because Jake leaves his sisters with the clean-up, which he feels awful about but is simply waved away. Then they’re off to see Jake’s mom and dad. He’s not worried, Chuck, Jake’s father, already likes him; but he would like to make a good impression on Jenna, for both his and Jake’s sake. They sit in the car, Jake resting his wrists over the edge of the steering wheel, hands hanging lax as he sucks in deep breaths and swallows roughly, clearly psyching himself up for what is to come.

                He keeps quiet, knows that this is what Jake does when he first gets home and also just before he leaves. That a late lunch happened first is an anomaly probably for his benefit. He reaches out tentatively, places his hand on Jake’s thigh and just lets it rest there, hopes it’s enough to just let him know he’s not alone. Then Jake is sucking in a deep breath, blowing it out between his teeth, throwing his shoulders back and reaching for the door handle, but not before resting his hand over Bradley’s for a brief second and giving him a small smile. He follows him and then Chuck is shaking his hand, giving him a quick hug, and offering a drink all in the same moment.

                “Who is it Chuck?”

                “How about you come see for yourself?” Chuck says, and then there’s a woman there, so clearly Jake’s mom that he finds himself smiling automatically.

                “Oh! What are you doing here?”

                “Uh…”

                “This is Bradley Bradshaw,” Chuck provides, looking between her and Bradley.

                “I know who it is Chuck,” Jenna says with a laugh and there’s Jake’s laugh.

                “Uh… It’s nice to meet you Mrs Seresin.”

                “Jenna, please! And who is this?” Jenna asks, looking toward Jake with easy curiosity and Bradley’s heart twists. Jesus. How does Jake even do this?

                “Uh, this is my boyfriend. Jake,” he says, reaching for his hand and gripping it firmly, pulling him toward him because he needs the support, the closeness, no idea how Jake might be feeling.

                “Mmm. Well, you always did have good taste. Seems it applies out of the kitchen too…”

                Bradley can feel his cheeks flushing as he glances at Jake, who simply looks shattered.

                “Jenna, how about you come and help me make Bradley and Jake some coffee. They’ll be here for a little bit…”

…            …            …

                As he watches his parents walk toward the kitchen he feels Leo’s arms go around him, hugging him and he doesn’t understand.

                “Why… how… why does my mom know who you are?”

                Leo looks so sad and he has to stop himself from snapping that he doesn’t want pity, because he doesn’t think that’s what Leo is experiencing right now.

                “Um. You know how I said I was on TV a bit, well I also used to have a cooking channel on YouTube. Your dad said when I met him that they watch it together… almost every day.”

                “Oh my god… this is… she doesn’t recognize me but she knows who you are. This is so fucked up. You just introduced me to my own mother.” He takes in a shuddering breath, swallows roughly against the tears and then just decides to let them fall.

                “Jake, I’m sorry, I…”

                “Don’t. It’s not your fault. I just… it’s unfair. And I say that, and I feel like an asshole because your parents aren’t even alive, so I should be grateful right?”

                “You can be upset about your mom Jake…”

                “Fuck.” He scrubs at his face. “In all the scenarios I ran through in my head, this was not one that even crossed my mind.”

                “I didn’t think she’d know who I was…”

                “I want to see…”

                “What?”

                “Your cooking show.”

                “Uh… sure. Actually, you know your mom might want to show you her favorite bits, if you asked her…”

                Jake hadn’t thought of that, that this is something his mom can share with him, because he’s never been interested in what she liked watching, but if it’s got Leo then he’s definitely more invested. So when his mom and dad come back carrying a tray of coffee and cake he asks, and she just lights up. He admits he hasn’t seen any of Leo’s, sorry, Bradley’s, shows, and he’d love to see what the fuss is about. Then his dad is exchanging looks he can’t quite parse, but then he’s looking at a still image of Leo on YouTube, frozen with his mouth open, no moustache and he lets out a huff of surprised laughter.

                “Oh wow, you look so young.”

                “Yeah, that was a while ago.”

                It’s only a twenty-minute show, and it’s just Leo talking about making pasta, why he enjoys making it from scratch but also the friendly way he talks to the camera makes him understand why his mom likes it. She talks to Leo almost constantly through it, and Jake finds himself switching between watching the video and then watching his mom and boyfriend talk about different pasta making techniques and yeah, it sucks but it’s still better than he thought it could ever be.

                “Who was filming you?”

                “Oh. Vi. There’s a blooper reel on her private channel. It’s pretty humiliating.”

                Jake can’t wait to see it, chats with his dad as Leo then works in the kitchen with his mom, making pasta from scratch. They decline staying for dinner, but Leo says he’s happy to come back, maybe make some cookies if she doesn’t mind Jake’s nieces and nephews coming as well and of course his mom just lights up. She doesn’t seem to question why Leo doesn’t have work, or even what Jake does, but he’s not going to question his good luck. They’ve made their goodbyes and he doesn’t feel the usual sinking dread about the next time he’ll have to see her, knows it’ll be sooner rather than later but Leo will be there and it’ll somehow be easier as well. It’s dark, and cooler, the air crisp and he stares up at the sky, stops before he gets to the car and turns toward Leo.

                “So… people know your name. Do lots of people know your name?”

                “Yeah. If they’re that into cooking food.”

                “Well, I’m into you…” Leo’s teeth flash white in the dark with a smile, and Jake reaches for him, wraps his arms around his waist and tugs him in close. “In fact, I’m so into you that I might go so far as to say I’m in love with you.”

                “Might?”

                “That’s the word you’re going to pick out to focus on?”

                “Mmm. I love you too Jake.”

                “Good. Very good.”

…            …            …

                He has an idea, but he has no idea whether it would be well received or not, but the fact that Jake’s mom recognizes him makes him think it might. He also knows the best person to ask is Maria so he works at getting a moment alone with her.

                “I… you heard that your mom recognized me?”

                “Yeah,” Maria says, and she’s grimacing, because he knows that it has got to suck, is thinking about how he’d feel if Leandro and Silvia didn’t recognize him. Fuck. Even Ice and Mav, and not for the first time he feels a twist of regret about not talking with Mav for so long, but he knows he’s doing okay because Ice had told him when he asked.

                “So, feel free to shut me up any time, I was just thinking, we could make a short film, like… Bradley Bradshaw at home. And introduce Jake as my boyfriend, and then all his sisters… and your mom could watch it every day. I don’t know if it would help, but…” he trails off, not sure if this would even work, but if he can film the baking session with all of Jake’s nieces and nephews then it gives them a family video, but also, if Jenna maybe watched it everyday she might recognize everyone, even if she didn’t realize they were her family.

                “I… that’s really thoughtful of you. I don’t know what my brother did in a past life, but I’m glad he found you.”

                “I love him,” Bradley says easily, because Jake didn’t need to do anything in a past life, he does plenty in this one which makes Bradley consider himself lucky.

                “Yeah. I’m aware. Right. I’ll see what we can do.”

…            …            …

                Time slips past them, around them, passing over them like the cool water in a stream passes over a stone in its’ path. Month-long deployments come and go. Bradley spends time on the farm both with and without Jake. He films another four different cooking shows, publishes another two recipe books and also opens the second Tartaruga in San Antonio, this one called Violet, which Vi hates but doesn’t actively sabotage. The location is close enough to the Seresin Farm and he decides to see if he can buy the house he’d stayed in when he’d first met Jake again; Jake just laughs when he tells him. Jake spends time in New York with Bradley, although it’s usually only one or two nights before they’re on a plane to Texas. They may only see each other three or four times a year, but they cram in as much as they can with the time that they do have.

                He’s not really paying attention to the noises coming from the restaurant. They aren’t open yet and there are still two hours. He’s a little grumpy because Jake hasn’t sent him any messages in over a day, which is fine, but usually he gets a little heads up that he’s going into blackout comms. Some of Jake’s COs have been better than others in terms of being willing to pass baked goods on. Honestly, he’s worried about Jake, although he’ll leave it another day before calling Ice. Of course he’ll actually have to share with Ice that he’s gone and got himself a boyfriend, because Slider has let him know that it’s no fun if he can’t gloat he knew first when it’s been nearly three years.

                Except in that three years they’ve only had about five months with each other, so even though they both very much all in and he feels like they cope well with all the time they spend apart he will never not worry or miss him while he’s gone. It’s just part of his natural state of being he’s come to accept. Vi walks into the kitchen, wearing one of her pant suits she wears when she’s got people to intimidate and he raises an eyebrow.

                “Meeting with… suppliers? Or the bank?”

                “Pfft. Like I need to scare the bank. They want to loan us money and don’t like us paying it back faster. No. I needed you to come out the front. I have something to show you.”

                “Okay, just let me…” he waves his hands, because he’s in the middle of prep, signals for one of the newer and younger chefs to take over and then exchanges a look with Adrienne to ensure an eye is kept on quality. Then he’s following Vi out the front, and she’s walking ahead of him, leading the way so he notices the film crew in the same moment he sees Jake, standing in his full service khakis looking absolutely amazing and everything else fades to unimportance. He’s across the room and kissing him, hands on either side of his face, mouth hot and insistent and he ignores the polite coughs trying to get his attention.

                “Hi…”

                “Hi. That’s a welcome home.”

                “You’re early. Like. Weeks early.”

                “Yep. Can’t talk about it, but, uh… I have almost ten weeks off.”

                “Wow.”

                “Mmm. Pretty sure you’re going to get sick of me.”

                “Never going to happen,” Bradley promises.

…            …            …

                He doesn’t often get creative control, but Jake hasn’t ever signed a waiver saying he’s happy to appear in any of the shows and right in this moment he’s infinitely glad for it. Bradley has kept Jake’s name and job out of all interviews, he’s not about to reveal all of it along with his face. That’s just never going to happen.

                “You can’t use any of that footage,” Bradley states.

                “Care to explain why not?” Cassandra asks, because they’re used to Bradley’s little fits of pique when he’s having a bad day, but he shakes his head, tries to look a little apologetic, because he’s not trying to be difficult.

                “You can’t identify him. It’s a security situation. Only way around it is if you blur his face, nameplate, squadron badge and his ribbons. Any identifying markers. Including his shoulder and collar pins.”

                “Surely his squadron badge…”

                “No. That narrows it down to maybe a group of twenty-eight people. Likely smaller, depending. He can’t be identifiable. It’s bad enough that people will be able to pick that he’s a naval aviator.”

                “How the fuck are they going to figure that out if everything else is blurred out?”

                “Oh. They’ll know if they’re looking closely enough,” Bradley mutters, because he’s pretty sure his days of Slider being unable to gloat are finally numbered.

                At least someone will be happy.

THIRTY

(Every 10th chapter is an IceMav chapter).

(And did I start writing a Phoenix/Vi side story? Yes. Yes I did.)

[baronessvonglitter]

Cherry, Cherry 🍒 Chapter 19 🍒

"Hungry Heart"

Joel Miller x f!Reader

Word count: 6,022

Summary: Going to Jackson for a wedding seems like just a friend doing a favor for a friend, but old acquaintances and new attitudes don't always make for a great combination.

WARNINGS: 18+ Only! Mature and Explicit, age gap (reader is 39, Joel is 56), takes place June - December 2023, mention of eating food/drinking alcohol, mention of divorce, language, No Smut, mention of infidelity, post-divorce strife, Ellie is kind of a delinquent (will be discussed in next chapter), brief glimpse of lumberjack!Joel, forced proximity, mutual pining (mostly on Joel's side), Joel tries to be an authority figure and Ellie ain't having it

Author's Note: thank you to everyone who's stuck around to read this and been very patient with me! my birthday was last week so there was a lot going on, otherwise I would have had this out earlier. So.. we've got these two together again, but the reunion isn't exactly a happy one..

Series Masterlist

June 2023 San Francisco, CA

It's not until you're seated in a booth at the trendy new sushi bar downtown that you begin to doubt your agreement to meet Sarah while she's in town for a work conference. You'd said yes initially, then waffled about it in the coming weeks, and now you're drinking sake to fortify yourself. Your therapist told you it's a bad idea to mix alcohol with reacquaintances, but you're already refilling the ochoko when you look up for a moment and spy Sarah approaching you through the crowded restaurant.

You've never thought about what she might look like. A part of you imagined that you'd be sitting down to dinner with the same kid from twenty years ago. But Sarah has grown up, in her thirties, a successful attorney. And, from what you gathered by spying on Joel's Facebook account years ago, she's also a mother.

"Thank you for meeting me," she says, embracing you the way women always embrace each other, something you never got used to because of you lack of female friends. She smells like expensive perfume, the kind you spray on yourself at Sephora just for fun, and is dressed in a white maxi dress with blue floral print. She looks amazing, and you silently berate yourself for wearing black distressed jeans, a Rolling Stones tee and your lucky red Converse.

"You're all grown up," you remark, a hint of sadness in your tone.

"You look beautiful," she says in return. "You don't even look like twenty years have passed."

Little does she know you spent forty dollars on a concealer to hide your undereye circles, and were talked into spending another twenty on something called a lip oil that makes your lips sticky and tastes like cheap pineapple, which you wiped away on the restaurant napkin as soon as you sat down.

Settling down to small talk, you neglect to look at your menus, annoying the waitress who stops by to take your order three times and ultimately just comes by to refill your drinks.

Sarah lives out east in Boulder, Colorado, practicing law alongside her fiance Theo. They have a son together, ten year old Finn.

"Theo proposed when I got pregnant," Sarah says. "But I wanted us to build a foundation first, construct our little family. And when the time was right, I proposed to him."

She shows off pictures of Finn, sharing the funny and cute anecdotes that parents do, and when she asks about Ellie you do the same: Ellie in the hospital, just hours old, wearing a tiny knitted pink and blue hat as she glowered at the camera; Ellie at four, playing T-ball, one of just two girls on an all-boys team; Ellie at ten winning the school spelling bee.

Being an Army wife gave you the opportunity to see the world, experience things you otherwise wouldn't. Japan, Germany, Italy.. you were happy that Ellie got to experience them too.

But even that couldn't save your marriage to Justin.

There were infidelities on both sides, and when you found out about his, it was almost a relief to discover he was not Nice Justin, just a man who had affairs. In the midst of your own liaisons, you felt vindicated, though the fun wore off easier than it had in your youth.

Filing for divorce was only difficult considering Ellie. Justin didn't fight it, handing over full custody. It was the only part of the process that broke your heart. Now you were just repeating a history of broken families. Once the divorce was finalized it was like throwing up after being nauseous for so long, just good to get it out of your system.

("I kept my married name, just to piss off the new wife," you tell Sarah, who snickers in response. "That's understandable.")

Settling in San Francisco where you like the neighborhood and the schools, life seems easier.

"Ninth grade history," you answer when Sarah asks what you teach. "I introduce Romeo & Juliet to kids who are the same age as those characters."

And now, with the niceties out of the way, there's nothing left to talk about but the past.

You've been dreading it.

"I never apologized for what I did," she says.

You nod, inviting her to continue.

"You probably know this by now, but I was the one who called your mom."

Of course you knew it all along, but hearing it is a different thing.

She got her number from your phone when you weren't around. And, unable to get the picture of you and her dad out of her mind, she dialed it one day and explained to your mom what she saw.

"Why?" you ask.

She averts her eyes a brief moment. "Deep down I always knew there was something going on with you and my dad.. the day of my party when I walked in on you, it was a rude awakening. It's one thing to know something is going on, and another thing to witness it. And later, when you left, I realized I'd taken it too far."

Sarah goes quiet and so do you, despite the chatter in the busy restaurant.

You ask, "Did Joel ever find out it was you?"

She nods. "I told him later.. after he started seeing that awful girl you were friends with."

That part of your life, the bubble of jealousy and despair in which you made your home, seems so long ago. "Hailey," you remind her.

"Yeah.. she didn't last very long. Dad broke things off when he caught her stealing from him.. and when that happened I realized he was just better off with you. But.. by then it was too late."

By then you were already apart. The damage had been done.

"Was he angry at you for what you did?"

Sarah shrugs. "It was a silent kind of angry. You know how he is. We avoided each other for weeks until it became impossible. And by then.. you were gone."

You take a moment to reflect on your memories of Joel. "How is he?"

She smiles, as if she knew or even hoped you'd ask about him. "He's good. He's in Jackson now. Wyoming. Tommy's there with his new wife.."

You shift uncomfortably in your seat. "And, uh.. your stepmom?"

She looks blank for a moment. "You mean Tess? No, they divorced a few years ago. She was nice, it just didn't work out."

You don't know whether to feel sorrow or relief at this fact, but for once you decide to be petty and let the relief take over, hoping he went through a fraction of the pain you endured.

Sarah toys with her salmon roll. "I'm sorry," she says, nodding to herself as if giving herself strength to do it. She looks you in the eye and you catch a glimpse of the girl she used to be. "I'm sorry. For starting everything."

So many times you've imagined what it would be like if you hadn't been found out by anyone else. Would you still have stayed in Austin? Would you and Joel have had more time together?

"It's in the past, right?" You manage a smile, happy that this is out in the open. A part of you feels like a weight is lifted. Things may not have happened the way you wanted, but now you can reconcile the things you can't control anymore.

"This is probably the wrong time to say this," Sarah continues, "but I'd like to invite you and Ellie to my wedding this December, in Jackson. You won't have to worry about airfare or hotels. Theo and I will cover your ticket and.. well, everyone's staying at my dad's. He has a huge house in town, enough for close family. I'd really love it if you would come."

"Justin, you're really fucking me over, do you know that?" you try to speak as quietly as you can into the phone while laying out outfits for the Jackson trip. "Ellie's going to be brokenhearted. You told her you'd have her the entire two weeks."

On the other line Justin sighs, the new, younger Mrs. Williams can be heard in the background. "I promised Svetlana first. We really need this time together," he whispers as well, likely not trying to instigate another argument with his wife.

You have some choice words for Svetlana, but are interrupted when Ellie quietly walks into the room, well aware that the discussion is about her. "I'll call you back."

"Let me guess.." Ellie sits on the edge of the bed. "I'm not going with Dad for Christmas.."

There's no point in lying to her. She's a sharp kid. "I'm sorry you had to hear that, kiddo. He and your stepmother are taking an extended honeymoon in Malta," you tell her gently.

"You mean Slutlana?"

"What? Ellie, that's rude. Don't say that." You pause. "Don't say that to her face, at least."

She's quiet, and at times like this you regret that she's essentially living the life you lived at fourteen, always wondering when Dad would come back, if he even wanted to spend time with his own child.

"So.. I'm going with you?"

You nod. "Thank god your probation is over. It'd be nice if you paid Marlene a visit, or at least called her," I said, speaking of the parole officer assigned to Ellie after a particular incident. "We should send her some Tiff's Treats or something, she deserves a gift after putting up with your delinquent self." You playfully toss a tee shirt at her.

"Can I say bye to Riley?" she asks, hope evident in her eyes.

"No," you're adamant on this one thing, as lax as you were before the trespassing situation.

"Mom, my probation's over. I'm not gonna get in trouble just for talking to her."

"I don't care. I'm not going by the judge's rules, I'm going by mine." You pause. "You'll just have to come with me to Wyoming."

Sarah had gone to the trouble of sending a beautifully embossed wedding invitation, done in traditional cream and gold, with photos of the two of them as children, as teens, and one gorgeously done couples photo. Theo's cute, and Sarah seems happy with him.

"Boring," Ellie says in response to the wedding festivities. "Why would anyone want to get married?"

You decide not to give her a response. At her age you didn't understand the fuss about weddings either.

Forgoing Sarah's offer of paying for your flight, you rent a Chevrolet Suburban for the drive over.

"You do realize we'll be driving for over fourteen hours, right?" Ellie says, helping you put the suitcases and bags in the roomy luggage hold.

"Yep. I checked it out on Google Maps."

"What happens if you get tired?"

"We'll drive during the day and find a rest stop or a motel at night," you shrug.

"You know.. I could take over the drive sometimes," she offers.

"Okay, kiddo. Why not?"

She brightens. "Really?"

"Absolutely fucking not." With a smile you open the passenger door and she hops in, grumbling,

Only so much music can suffice a long ride, and somewhere outside of Reno, Ellie busts out a dog-eared copy of a book Justin had given her as a gag won the spelling bee.

"Oh no, Ellie, for god's sake, not the puns," you whine dramatically.

"Yes, the puns," she grins. "How else am I supposed to spend my time on this boring-ass road trip?"

"Brace yourself. We've only been on the road less than four hours."

She groans, slumping forward in her seat, revived shortly when she decides to recite every single pun in that damn book, and when you give her that Mom look, she simply grins and tells you, "That's what you get for turning down a plane ticket."

Three days later you arrive. Jackson Hole is picturesque, especially in winter, as it it was just made to be the snowy backdrop on a postcard or a highlight on Instagram.

You turn down the main thoroughfare of the town, a light dusting of snow already falling from the heavens as you peer out the window, frowning in concentration as you try to familiarize yourself with the location. Ellie's buzzing in your ear like a mosquito, singing along to something on the radio. You turn the volume down. "Quiet down, I can't see."

She nearly bursts at the seam with withheld laughter. "You want me to quiet down... because you can't see?" she teases.

"Ellie!" you groan. "We're already late for lunch with the family."

Promising yourself you'll settle in a hotel after what you hope will be a painless reunification with Sarah and the rest of the Millers, you find your destination and drive up a perfectly paved driveway. Joel's house, a craftsman-style facade done in red brick and accented with carved gable peaks, looks exactly like a house Joel would own.

Parking close enough on the curved driveway without blocking in any other cars, you take a moment to rest, stretching your neck and shoulders.

"Should've let me drive," Ellie says from her seat as you both start to disembark.

There's a smart remark on your lips but when you turn to her you're distracted by a figure at the side of the house.

Someone's chopping wood, splitting logs with precision, though not necessarily speed. He's wearing just a white tee shirt, jeans, boots. You let your eyes linger on his physique. Who is that? you wonder.

As if he can hear your thoughts or sense your presence, the figure turns and wipes the sweat off his brow.

You know him in an instant.

Joel.

Your heart feels like it's going into arrhythmia.

"Come on, Ellie," you hurry her up the walk and to the front steps.

"The bags--"

"Fuck the bags." You press the doorbell nervously, willing Sarah or anyone to open quickly.

"You made it!" Sarah practically mauls you as she greets you, giving both you and Ellie a hug.

You're swept inside where it's nice and cozy, the air scented with pine and gingerbread. Christmas garlands are strung over every doorway, along the staircase railing, the windows, and the fireplace.

"Was my dad out there? I told him he needs to start getting ready. I don't want him coming to the luncheon all sweaty," Sarah says.

"What? No. I didn't see anything.. anyone," you stutter.

"I'm happy you're here, because we're actually going to have lunch at the Tipsy Bison instead. It's Tommy's bar, you probably passed it on the way up here."

"Oh, uh.." you're distracted by Ellie precariously sloshing a winter themed snow globe, the thought of Joel is still spinning around in your sleep-deprived brain, and Sarah is still talking to you like you don't look completely zoned out and anxious.

To make things worse, Joel comes in, carrying most of yours and Ellie's luggage. His white tee sticks to his sweaty skin, his face pink with exertion and dewy with sweat, his hair dark with more gray now than ever, and on his beard too. His eyes, those dark depths you've lost yourself in so many times, peer into yours, and for a moment you forget to breathe.

"You left the trunk open," he murmurs, as if it's a quiet admonition, a secret he doesn't want to tell.

"Oh.. thank you. You didn't have to do that." Your nervous glance at him gives your blushing away because you see his face redden as well.

"Dad, can you believe she has a kid now?" Sarah says excitedly.

There's a jolt of fear when you realize father and daughter are going to be in the same room, and neither of them knows it.

"Uh, Ellie, this is Joel Miller. He's, uh, Sarah's dad, and I used to babysit Sarah.. a long time ago.." Being put on the spot, you falter your words.

"Put 'er there, Joel," Ellie says, holding out her hand for him to shake, which Joel does, the start of a tiny smirk on his lips.

"We all lived in Austin together, with your Aunt Sofia. I mean, we didn't live together but we were neighbors," you babble, feeling even more blush creep up your neck. "Way before you were born, kiddo."

Meanwhile Sarah's eyes dart from Ellie to Joel to you, and back again, slower each time, as if she's piecing the puzzle together. Her eyes linger on Ellie, her expression unreadable before settling on you. You quickly glance away.

"Let me take that from you," you motion to the luggage Joel's carrying.

"Nah, I got it. I'll show ya to y'all's rooms." He hefts the suitcases and bags like they're nothing and heads upstairs. You have no choice but to follow him, sneaking a little glance at how his great his ass looks in his jeans.

"Nice place you got here, Joel," Ellie remarks, eyes skyward, surveying the landing at the top of the stairs.

"Thank you," he says quietly. "Do you always address your elders by their given names?"

"Ellie," you whisper harshly. "Mind your manners."

"Damn, sorry," she mutters back.

"Sorry, Joel. She's--"

"Hey, why do you get to call him Joel?"

"Because I'm an adult," you say under your breath.

"He's older than you. Like, a lot. Like, Grandpa Bob's age."

"Stop it," you say through clenched teeth as Joel clears his throat.

"I can put y'all next door to each other--"

"I call this one!" Ellie claims the first door on the left, grabbing her bags and leaving Joel to lead you a little further down the hall.

"'M afraid this one is right across the hall from mine," he mumbles, leading you inside the comfortably decorated bedroom to set your things down.

"Thank you," you murmur, heart thrumming in your chest. This is the first time you've been alone with him in fifteen years. "You.. have a really beautiful home here, Joel."

He looks around, eyes darting anywhere but yours. "Thank you, that means a lot. Built it myself-- well, with Tommy's help."

"Really?" It's hard to pretend you're not impressed. "Must've been a lot of hard work."

"Yeah, it was. But she's sturdy." Joel gives a sturdy pat to the wall, and you can't help looking at his hand, the way his thick fingers splay out against the dark green wallpaper. Those are fingers that used to find their way inside you, curving just so in order for you to come quickly while his lips and tongue worked in tandem to--

Ellie's voice comes from the other room. "Wow! You guys have cable? Do you have HBO?"

"No Euphoria!" you shout back, scoffing when she quiets again.

There are too many questions on the tip of your tongue, too many things you want to say but not when you're so nervous that your hands are shaking. Staying quiet is easier. More awkward, but easier.

The room fills with unspoken words and missed chances as the two of you shift uneasily, not knowing where to start, not knowing if you should start.

"Didn't know ya had a daughter," he grumbles. "Not 'til Sarah told me."

"Yeah. Ellie's.. precocious."

A ghost of a smile graces Joel's lips as he looks at you and for a moment in time you feel eighteen again.

"How old is she?" he asks.

"She turned fourteen this past spring." God, please don't let him do the math, please don't let him do the math.

Instead he gives a low whistle, wears a teasing smile. "You look good for bein' the mom of a teenager. You still look beauti-- still look the same," he finishes.

You're thirty nine now and in possession of all the complexities that come with your age. There's more gray in your hair than you care to admit (which Ellie tells you not to dye because it "looks cool"), and there are a few more pounds on your person and a few more lines on your face than you're happy with, but his compliment warms you nonetheless.

"You look.. good.. too." Jesus, how did this man age like fine wine? If anything, the past two decades only served to make him hotter. It's unfair.

He takes a step forward, his face determined, lips pursed like he's still calculating his decision. "I.. I wanted to say--"

This time Sarah comes up, dressed for the cold, putting on her gray gloves. "Dad, get in the shower already," she scolds him. "I'm taking her and Ellie to the Tipsy Bison. We'll see you there."

Joel's eyes set on you. "I don't mind takin' them."

You open your mouth to speak, even though you have no idea how to respond. "Honestly, I'll drive me and my daughter. And we can get a room in town."

"No way, Jose." Sarah loops your arm through hers. "You're staying with us and that's final. So, will you let me drive you, or do you want to wait for my dad?"

Waiting for Joel.. it seems you've spent the majority of your youth waiting for him.

"Can we go with Sarah?" Ellie asks, solving the problem for you.

In truth you would have liked a moment to rest, to sleep, to puzzle over the strangeness of the day so far. You're almost a thousand miles from the home you've made after your divorce, under the same roof as the man who changed your life in ways good and bad, harboring a secret from him and his family. Not to mention Ellie's ignorance of her origins.

Sarah herds you and Ellie into the Tipsy Bison, a spacious bar establishment on Main Street, part of the scenery you must have driven by without noticing upon driving into town. Inside is the typical decor you'd expect: neon lights advertising every brand of beer and alcohol you can imagine, taxidermy mounts of bears, bucks, and elk. Pool tables are at the far left, dartboards to the right, a couple of foosball tables as well. There's a stage beyond the pool tables, ready for a band or DJ, a makeshift dance floor in front of it, and colored lights remain still overhead, their brightness dulled and stilled by the daytime.

There's a homey, cozy feeling as you glance around. The bar spreads along the far side beyond a range of tables and booths, boasting a wide variety of booze. Working behind the bar is a face you haven't seen in awhile: Tommy.

He comes out to greet you, his smile and bright and joyful as you've always known him to be, and part of you feels guilty that the last time you were together you'd been drunk, making out next to his truck, after meeting in a bar just like this one.

"Hey you!" He envelops you in a tight hug, and you start to feel better. Bygones are certainly bygones in his case.

"Tommy, it's good to see you again," you smile, pulling away to get a good look at him. "You've hardly aged. What's with you Millers, are you all vampires or something?" You cast a playful look at Sarah, who's bringing her fiance and her son to meet you.

Tommy shrugs, a playful grin on his lips. "You're more than welcome to join our Legion of the Undead," he jokes.

You're introduced to Theo, Sarah's husband-to-be, who's on the quiet side, a contradiction to Sarah who's chattering away about him, and Finn, who's an exact replica of his dad, eyeing you and Ellie with a shy smile.

Ellie manages to find a friend in him as you and the others get to catching up. You're introduced to Maria, Tommy's wife, the roundness of her baby bump just barely showing. She oversees the caterers as they start setting up for lunch. Tommy and Sarah talk about you like you're a part of the family instead of someone who knew them for a summer and changed things forever, even in some small way.

"Sarah tells me this is your place now," you speak to Tommy, who's behind the bar and pouring you a drink.

"Sure is," he says, sliding the drink across the bar to you. "Don't know anyone who orders a gin and tonic in the middle of winter," he says, teasing you.

"I'm eccentric," you smirk, taking a sip of the crisp, slightly bitter drink.

"Should be you behind this bar, Cherry," he winks.

"Oh god, no one's called me that in forever," you groan, doing a quick check on Ellie to find her attempting to play pool with Finn.

"How's business?" you ask him.

"Good, good," he nods. "Just glad to be settin' down some roots, buildin' somethin' for when the baby comes."

"Congratulations," you smile. "You and Maria seem like a good fit."

"Well.. y'know.. can't fuck around forever," he chuckles, then he spots someone at the entrance.

"Hey, brother!" Tommy raises his hand in greeting and you stay still, wishing you could sink down into the ground or better yet, become invisible completely.

The old-fashioned jukebox ends a Fleetwood Mac song and drifts into "Hungry Heart" by Bruce Springsteen starts, the catchy, melancholic combo of piano, drums, bass, guitar and saxophone wafting throughout the bar. You keep your eyes on your drink, willing for all of this to be just a dream, some intrusive thought you've put incredible detail into, prolonging your grief over lost love.

But there he is, a barstool between you, giving you your space while ready to jump up at a moment's notice if you want him closer. Your casual glance gives you away when you stare too long at him, clad in a green flannel shirt, his gray tee peeking beneath. You could swear it's the same flannel shirt you wore at the cabin, in the days when you were younger and carefree, before bad things happened to separate you.

Joel catches your look, lips twitching into a smile as his hands wrap around a glass of whiskey.

"So, what took you away from Boston?" you ask, putting your lips to your drink so you're not tempted to ask too much. It's an attempt to break the awkward silence.

"Lot of things," he mutters, staring into the amber liquid. "But mostly I followed Tommy out here."

"I was in Boston with him for awhile." Tommy shakes his head. "Hated it. I'll never set foot on the East Coast again if I can help it. I came out here, met Maria, started a family."

"And Sarah was already out here, buildin' a life. Just made sense for us all to be together again."

You look at both of them, glad the conversation isn't just between you and Joel. "The house is amazing. Joel told me you both built it."

The look of pride on their faces is endearing.

"We did, and mine too, across the street from his," Tommy adds.

"What happened to the contracting business?"

"We expanded it," Joel answers, a twinkle in his eye though his expression remains serious. "Made a nice chunk of change. Got branches in Oklahoma, Arkansas, even as far as Georgia."

That would explain the six-bedroom house, the fancy week-long wedding rituals that Sarah has joyfully swept you up in, and the catered lunches. The Millers have become quite financially well-off.

You listen to the brothers talk about some of the adventures they've been on, the good and the bad that has passed and ultimately brought them here, with you, once again.

The lunch spread is impressive: Texas style barbecue of ribs, brisket, and chicken; side dishes of beans, potato salad, grilled corn on the cob, macaroni and cheese, and mouthwatering desserts of pumpkin and pecan pies, cheesecake, banana pudding, and peach cobbler.

You haven't realized how hungry you are until you realize you have to remember to force yourself to eat slower, accidentally spilling a little barbecue sauce on your shirt. Embarrassed, you wipe it away, glancing at Ellie and finding her doing the same thing, just shoveling forkfuls of food in her mouth.

"Easy there," Joel's voice booms from across the table. "No one's gonna take it from ya," he playfully chides.

You were so absorbed in your lunch that you didn't realize he was right across from you. "Ellie," you scold her quietly. "Slow down."

"This is slow for me," she answers.

"Mind your mama," Joel says gruffly, his tone is authoritative.

She looks up at him, in annoyance and surprise. "You don't tell me what to do."

"And you don't talk back like that." Joel's voice gets a little more strict.

"Joel, stop," you intercede, your voice just as terse. The chatter around the table has dimmed but it's obvious everyone has their focus on you three.

"The kid obviously needs some fuckin' manners."

You scoff. "What the fuck is wrong with you?"

His eyes lock with yours, dark and cold. "I see where she gets it from. I guess that's what happens when a dad ain't around to teach some respect."

"Fuck this," Ellie mutters, pushing back from the table and throwing down her napkin, quick to get up and leave.

Your face is flaming red with both anger and embarrassment as your gaze burns through Joel's. "There's something wrong with you. Seriously," you mutter before getting up to go after her.

Joel goes after you. Sarah goes after Joel.

"Ellie!" you call out, watching her walk off in the direction of the house.

"I'll get her," Sarah volunteers, gently touching your arm. And then you hear her speak to Joel under her breath, something like "You're ruining it," before she hurries up to catch Ellie.

It's you and Joel now.

"Babygirl," he starts, his voice low.

"Babygirl?? Fuck you!"

Joel goes pale, obviously not expecting that. "I deserve that. I deserve for you to hate me."

"Hate you? No, you deserve worse than for me to hate you! How dare you yell at Ellie like that? I never once saw you treat Sarah that way."

"She never acted like that," he huffs.

"Do us both a favor and just stay away from us for the rest of the week. I'll see about getting a motel tonight, just.. fucking leave us alone."

He mutters Christ, and reaches for you, pulls you to the side of the building. "I'm sorry, all right?"

"Yeah? Tell her that." You could easily leave. He's not restraining you, but you stay. "Is that all you have to apologize for?"

He looks guilty. "No, of course not. I've been trying to talk to you since you got here--"

"Fifteen goddamn years and I don't hear anything from you? And now you.. what, you expect me to fall into your arms like I'm a stupid fucking teenager again? Go to hell! Nothing is that simple anymore!"

You hadn't meant for all your rage to come spilling out, it was just supposed to be about Ellie, but now that you're face to face with him, you can't help wanting to rage at him. Joel backs away from you, his eyes on the ground, hands on his hips, jaw set.

"Longer than that, actually," you softly correct yourself. "San Antonio.. you fucking left me. On my birthday."

He steps forward, not ready to back down. "I went to jail for you. On my birthday."

"I didn't ask you to do that! I didn't ask for anything but for you to love me! And you stopped!"

"No, I didn't," he whispers, arms hanging at his side even though they itch to reach out for you, hold you, make it better again.

"Don't say that," you warn him, backing away. "Don't insult my intelligence, Joel. You don't know what I went through after you left me. My heart was broken for years!"

"You were just a kid. I.. I thought I was doin' right by lettin' you go."

"I wasn't better because of you breaking up with me. I got worse! So much worse!" You don't dwell a lot on the past, specifically the college years that are now mostly a blur of hookups and hangovers, but now it all comes rushing back. Joel was your safety net and he took all that away from you once you started to freefall.

"Bullshit. You got married," he says bitterly.

"I did that so I could feel normal again. I tried to save myself. But it didn't matter in the end because he didn't love me either. Though I have to say, my divorce hurt a hell of a lot less than your abandonment."

Joel starts to look his age. The lines in his face deepen with worry and regret as he absorbs your words, mulling over everything that has happened. "I'm sorry--"

"Besides, you got married too! So please don't play like you're such a saint. You hardly look the part." Your anger has warmed you, given some spice to your blood so that you don't even feel the cold anymore. You roll your sleeves to your elbows, fists curled, adrenaline pumping as you finally tell him everything that's been locked away inside your heart.

"I don't accept your apology," you grunt, adding, "And don't ever yell at our daughter like that ever again!" You storm off, wishing you'd brought your jacket but it would mean having to walk past Joel, back into the restaurant and out again, and you're already walking away. It seems one of you is always walking away from the other.

It's snowing again when you find Sarah and Ellie, further down in front of a storefront, steaming cups of hot chocolate in their hands. Both are smiling, chatting, seemingly getting along. You know you should reprimand Ellie, tell her to apologize to Joel, but how can you be a hypocrite that way when you won't even talk to him yourself? All you can think about is leaving, going straight to the motel and picking up your things at Joel's later.

Sarah talks you into staying, warning of bad weather coming in soon. She apologizes for Joel, and you apologize for airing your grievances so publicly.

"Just don't do it at the rehearsal dinner tomorrow," she smirks. "Then I'll have to leave your ass out in the snow."

That evening you and Ellie keep to your rooms. You use your phone for distraction when your attention span keeps drifting from your novel, but even technology isn't the answer. There's only so much Merge Mansion you can play, and not even True Detective can hold your attention for long. You decide to rewatch Narcos (for the plot, you tell yourself) when Ellie knocks on your door.

"What's up, kiddo?" You press pause and scoot over on the bed, offering her to get comfy next to you.

"Have you seen the news?"

You're on Do Not Disturb and haven't gotten any of your usual notifications.

"There's a blizzard coming tonight. Sarah says sometimes the main roads get snowed in and we won't be able to get out."

Oh Sarah Miller, the purveyor of bad news. "She told me something like that. How long do they expect conditions to last?" You're already checking your phone.

"Could be days, maybe even up to a week," Ellie shrugs.

"Great," you mutter. "So we're stuck here even after the wedding?" It's the day after tomorrow.

"Please don't make us go to the motel. Sarah's really cool and really nice. And I even like Theo and Finn.. even Joel isn't so bad so long as he stops talking to me like a dad."

That night, as the blizzard blows in, turning everything outside completely white, Joel tosses in his sleep in his room across the hall from yours. It's not the howling winds keeping him awake; he's lived here long enough to get used to such natural disasters.

There's something you said to him, earlier outside the bar. It was an explosive moment, with words exchanged like bullets. But in the midst of it all he took away that one sentence: don't ever yell at our daughter like that ever again.

Our daughter?

dividers by @saradika 👑

<- prev chapter

next chapter ->

[collecting-stories]

Strawberry Gazpacho - Carmen Berzatto

A/N: Some people asked for a part 2 of Blueberry BBQ, so I decided to stay on the fruit trend!

Summary: Reader and Carmy continue to bond over food.

The Bear Masterlist

✰ ✰ ✰ ✰

"What is this?" You asked, staring down at the bowl Carmy had placed on top of your papers. You were in the back office, trying to work on the week's payroll when he'd come in, told you that you needed a lunch break, and placed a plate down in front of you. 

"Try it," he urged, wringing his hands in his apron and looking like an eager little kid. 

"Carm-"

"Try it," he repeated and you obliged. Regardless of what it was you knew you would like it. Carmy made it, which immediately meant it couldn't be bad, but also, Carmy made it. For you, more specifically. You took the proffered spoon and dipped it into the bowl, surprised when you pressed it to your lips and found that it was, in fact, cold.

"Gazpacho?" You asked, after a second bite.

You had told him last night, while watching TV and letting him finish the tupperware of tofu feta that's you'd made the day before, that you hated gazpacho. You loved soup and tomato was your favorite; a nice, roasted red-pepper tomato, heavy on the garlic, that you'd perfected over the years. But no gazpacho. You couldn't get used to the fact that it was cold. 

"You like it?" He asked in a way that suggested he might genuinely be worried that you would tell him it was horrible.

"I mean, it's the best gazpacho I've ever had," you took another bite as proof, "it's spicy."

"But?"

You weren't sure if he was fishing for a compliment or trying to convert you onto a food you held in disdain but you assumed that if he wanted someone to tell him that he was a skilled chef he would've gone to Syd or Marcus with his cold soup.

"It's cold soup Carmy, I just can't fuck with cold soup." You replied, "it's good though."

He reached for the spoon in your hand and dipped it into the bowl, trying some of the gazpacho that he had made. He nodded his head, as if to confirm that it was good, as if he didn't already know it would be.

"Should I like, fall over at your feet and tell you that you've converted me to gazpacho and it's the only thing I'll ever order for the rest of my life?" You teased, leaning an elbow on the desk. It felt completely natural to be this relaxed with him and yet, just weeks earlier, you'd been fretting over the idea of having him come over for Sunday dinner. 

He handed the spoon back and you took another experimental taste.

"I mean, you're still eating it," he pointed out, grinning. 

In no world would Carmy say that he was 'good with people'. If he wasn't saying the wrong thing then he was saying nothing at all (and that was also wrong). He wanted to spend more time with you, the most time he could afford outside of The Beef but the only way he really knew how to spend time with anyone was cooking. So he kept cooking for you, things you liked, things you hated but liked when he made them. He kept trying to find the perfect thing to say and the perfect recipe to go along with it, as if that would remedy his inability to tell you that he wanted more from whatever this situation currently was. You weren't dating but he wanted to be dating but he wasn't exactly the dating type (as far as having an actual open schedule went). 

"Touche," you replied, taking another bite. "I can't decide if I'll regret telling you this or not but my mom has a recipe for strawberry gazpacho that apparently my grandma used to make every summer."

"Strawberry?"

"I can already see the gears turning in your head Carmy," you laughed. 

He looked down at you, piercing blue eyes taking your measure, "can you get me the recipe?"

"Are you gonna make me eat it?" You practically pouted. 

He nodded, "yes."

You groaned and leaned back in the office chair, "god, the things I do for you Carmy." You sighed. "I'll text my mom for the recipe...I can pick stuff up on my way home, if you want. Or if you're all gazpacho'ed out-"

"No, tonight works." He agreed.

Before you could say anything else Marcus was calling Carmy back to the kitchen. He wiped his hands on his apron once more and push himself off the desk. Before he could pick up the bowl you put your hand over his, "I might try another bite." 

There were other things that Carmy could probably be doing with his evening. Catching up on sleep, working on the recipes that he and Syd had been spitballing for the updated menu, mending whatever semblance of a relationship he still had with Sugar. Instead he was looking forward to going to your apartment (which was leagues nicer than his shitty place) and cooking. He'd lived so long on white bread and peanut butter and chips and soft drinks and anything quick that he'd forgotten what it was like to cook just because he enjoyed cooking. Hell, he'd forgotten that he enjoyed it. The only thing, lately, that really felt like it brought that enjoyment back was standing in your kitchen.

"Rigoletto has taken up residence on the island and he refuses to move so...we're down some counter space," you said as soon as you opened the door to Carmy, moving aside to let him into your apartment. 

He stopped at the island, leaning over to pet Rigoletto, who half-heartedly rolled onto his side to give Carmy better access to his stomach. "Hey chef," he teased. He turned to look at you, still stroking the cat as he did, "strawberry gazpacho?" 

"I would just like to disclaimer that I don't think strawberries are going to improve my deep-seated hatred of gazpacho but-"

"I mean, you did eat most of the one I made earlier," Carmy pointed out as your mouth fell open in surprise. 

"Angel! What a snitch!" You laughed, "I can't believe he told you."

"Hey, it's my kitchen, I've gotta know what's going on." He followed you around the other side of the island, grabbing the notebook you had sitting on the counter and scanning over the recipe. You'd called your mom on the way home and asked for a copy of the recipe, which she'd gladly texted ("does this have something to do with that cute chef where you work?"). You'd picked up whatever ingredients you didn't already have at your house and set everything out for Carmy before he'd even gotten there. You felt a little silly, being so excited just to have him come over and cook with you (for you) when there was no real definition to what your relationship was. 

"Did you cook growing up? Like with your mom and stuff?" You asked, stealing a strawberry out of the plastic container. 

"No," Carmy shook his head, then amended his answer, "not really. My ma always told us to help but if we did she yelled at us for doing something the wrong way...it was better to just stay outta her way when she was in the kitchen. You?"

"Oh yeah, my mom's not like...the best chef in the world or anything but she loved trying new stuff. Anything we wanted we could ask for and she'd try to make it. And then as we got older we would have like, nights where one of us got to cook." You replied, "I like it but...I don't think I'm good at it."

"You are...I mean....not like, you've got potential." Carmy explained, blue eyes glancing up to meet you across the island and you smiled. 

"Thank you chef."

You left Carmy to the strawberry gazpacho and the chicken he'd brought over to make some dish you'd never heard of before while you got Rigoletto's dinner out. The cat had finally moved off the island and you sprayed it down with cleaner to at least give yourself a better chance of not picking white cat hair off your dinner plate. 

Carmy fit right into your kitchen, probably the whole apartment for that matter. It was something both of you had thought, more than once, but neither of you said anything about. He felt like he was waiting for something bad to come from all the good you had been supplying in his life recently. Bad news always felt like it was lurking around the corner for him, especially these days, and he didn't want to put everything in one basket. But being in your kitchen, in your space, felt good. It felt like he was supposed to be there. 

"Did you know," you were saying as you came back into the kitchen, leaning near him to look at the chicken he was searing on the stovetop, "that I didn't know what mortadella was before I started working at the Beef?" 

Carmy turned his head to watch you fish a piece of garlic out of the skillet and eat it whole, "Did you just?"

"It was cooked."

"It was a whole clove of garlic."

"I love garlic," you shrugged, dropping the fork in the sink, "but seriously, I had to google it cause I didn't know what Richie was talking about when he was trying to explain it."

"It's very Italian." Carmy replied. 

"You're very Italian." You grinned and he rolled his eyes.

"I am, yeah." And then, "I still can't believe you ate that."

"You act like you've never eaten garlic before."

"Not just shoved a whole clove in my mouth." He replied. 

"It tasted good." You shrugged, "I always use too much garlic. Like if a recipe says three cloves I use six."

"Yeah that's why I said you had potential." 

"Well now I just feel like that's your 'I don't wanna hurt your feelings' way of saying I'm actually shit at cooking." You replied. 

"Nah, if you were shit I'd tell you."

"Yeah but then who'd balance the books for you?" You teased, searching in the cabinet under the island for wine, "red or white?"

"Uh...white for this." Carmy replied.

You pushed the bottle of red you were holding back into the cabinet and went to the fridge, pulling out the Chardonnay you'd bought last week. You grabbed two glasses from the cabinet, handing him one once it was poured. 

"Is this the 'only white you'll drink' wine?" He asked, taking a sip. 

The last time he had come over to cook with you (for you) there had been a long discussion about different wines in which you'd explained that there was only one type of white that you liked. More accurately, one brand that made a chardonnay you didn't completely hate. 

"Yeah...they finally restocked!" You exclaimed, leaning against the counter, "the woman at the Wine and Spirits definitely thinks I'm an alcoholic though...I bought like, four bottles." 

Carmy shook his head, reaching a hand out for the bottle and splashing a little into the pan when you handed it to him. Kitchens were crowded and Carmy was more than used to working in an environment where people were constantly at each other's side or back or space but something about having you leaning there against the counter beside him was both extremely nerve-wracking and extremely comforting. 

He didn't say anything about it though, at least not until after you'd eaten dinner and were sitting on the couch avoiding the dishes. Then he blurted it out while you watched reruns of Murder, She Wrote with Rigoletto. "I always thought I would do stuff like this when I was younger."

"Watch 80's tv shows on a Tuesday night?" You asked.

"No," he laughed, "Just like...I don't know....you know, make dinner with someone. Or, I guess, not feel like my entire life was in a restaurant all the time."

"Well I'll always be happy to make dinner with you...or at least supply the wine while you make dinner." You replied, grinning at him.

"Yeah," he nodded his head slowly, as if convincing himself that what you were saying was true. 

"Yeah," you agreed.