#chopped vegetables delivery

[aarohij]

Nourish Your Gut with These 5 Must-Have Vegetables

Vegetables are required to maintain a healthy mind and body. They are a rich source of essential nutrients and should be consumed religiously to ensure long-term health benefits. While all vegetables are suggested for a healthy body, we aim to discuss some major vegetables that are rich in varied nutrients and thus be made staple to our diets. Also, the good news is that the availability of chopped vegetables delivery, makes the consumption of vegetables easier for you, making them more accessible and easier to cook. So, let’s dive right in.

5 Must- Have Vegetables

Spinach

The vegetable was popularized by the cartoon series- Popeye the Sailor Man among kids. On a serious note, spinach is rich in vitamins K, A, and C, magnesium, folate, iron, calcium, and antioxidants. Vitamin K is essential for strong bones and it also improves the absorption of calcium. Additionally, it also promotes normal blood clotting. Iron and magnesium are vital for energy healthy blood, and muscle and nerve function, respectively. The antioxidants in the vegetable reduce the chances of developing cancer. However, the consumption of dark greens should be checked by people on blood-thinning medications.

Kale

Kale is also rich in vitamins K, A, and C. It is especially beneficial for people with high cholesterol. The other nutrients offered by the vegetable include vitamin B6, potassium, calcium, and copper. When taken in combination with a meal that is rich in carbohydrates, it prevents blood sugar spikes. It is also helpful in reducing blood pressure.  It also contains antioxidants to fight against cancer.  

Broccoli

Broccoli contains vitamins A, K, and C. It also contains indoles and isothiocyanates that inhibit the development of cancer specifically in the bladder, breasts, liver, and stomach as well as protect the cells from DNA damage and have anti-inflammatory effects. It also offers folate, manganese, sulfur, and potassium. It also guards against chronic heart diseases. The presence of lutein, beta-carotene, and zeaxanthin in broccoli makes it essential to reduce the risk of age-related macular degeneration and support overall eye health.

Green Peas

Green peas provide fiber, protein, and vitamins A, C, B, and K. These support good bacteria in the gut ensuring regular bowel movements and a healthy digestive tract. The saponins present in them help protect against oxidative stress and cancer.

Sweet Potatoes

Sweet potatoes contain vitamins A, C, and B6, potassium, manganese, and beta-carotene. They are recommended for those suffering from diabetes, as they are rich in fiber and help regulate blood sugar levels. They are also good at regulating cholesterol levels. The presence of beta-carotene boosts skin, hair, and eye strength.  

Buy Chopped Vegetables Online Now

So now that you know the various benefits of the five must-have vegetables order fresh cut vegetables now. Greenchopper is one of the best platforms that offer cut vegetables online in Bangalore.  It is chopped in a variety of shapes and sizes. It is also known for providing healthy ozone-washed vegetable delivery in Bangalore. So, do not wait, and eat more salads, by ordering fresh fruits and vegetables with GreenChopper now.

[marlinspirkhall]

Not wanting top surgery but a secret third thing (those skintight tank tops from sci Fi movies)

[satori-runa]

—Sweet as you

Summary: You and Captain Curly share a meal, despite your irritation regards the device that bakes your food.

Tags: Established Relationship, fluff, before the crash

Words: 0,8k

⊹₊ ˚‧︵‿₊୨୧₊‿︵‧ ˚ ₊⊹

No matter how many times you stand in the kitchen, Curly would always be amused by the sheer expression of despair on your face. He couldn't lie, it was extremely cute for him to see your brows furrow in irritation and your nose scuffing up slightly.

“You can't tell me that is cooking.” You mumbles, glancing at the device on the counter and the two packs of different ingredients in your hand. “This is more like…dark forbidden witchcraft.”

Being stuck in space, between all these stars, means that there is no fresh food, shops, or delivery services. The crew was certainly stuck with the device that mixes packs to make dishes. And as a former self-claimed chef, you hated it. This wasn’t cooking, and it never would be.

“Food is food.” The Captain chuckled quietly, bringing some tone into his usually exhausted voice. “As long as it works and we don't starve.” He took the packs gently out of your hands and placed them onto their respective spots in the cooking device, watching it close and make some bread.

“Told you, evil witchcraft.” You sighed, crossing your arms as you watched the machine whirr to life, producing something that only barely resembled real food. “I miss actual cooking.” You muttered, leaning against the counter. “You know, where you chop vegetables, sauté things, maybe burn a little garlic by accident.”

Curly smiled, stepping closer to you, his shoulder brushing against yours. “I know,” he said softly, his voice less teasing now. “And I miss seeing you in your element, making something real. But hey, when we get out of here, I might see what I can do to improve this experience for you. Who knows, maybe we can get an actual freezer to store products and a stove.” His eyes softened as he looked at you, the exhaustion of space life momentarily lifting.

You looked up at him, your frustration melting a little under his gentle gaze. “You promise?”

He chuckled, a hand resting lightly on your waist. “Of course. You’re going to make us a feast as soon as we’re planet-side again.”

You laughed softly, leaning into him. “I’ll hold you to that.” The warmth of his body against yours was comforting, and you moved your hands to hold him closer.

Curly pressed a light kiss to your forehead, his hand brushing through your hair. “In the meantime, we’ve got witchcraft bread.” He grinned, reaching for the freshly made loaf. “And the company isn’t so bad either.”

You smiled, resting your head against his chest. “I guess I can live with that.”

You settled at the small table with Curly, the freshly made bread, and some packets of synthetic jam between you. Despite your earlier complaints, the warmth of the meal and the quiet intimacy of the moment made it feel… different. Better. Curly tore off a piece of bread and handed it to you, his eyes soft as he watched you.

You hesitated at first, taking a small bite, expecting the usual bland taste. But somehow, with Curly sitting across from you, smiling like that, it didn’t seem so bad. The bread was warm, and the sweetness of the jam clung to your tongue in a way that felt almost comforting.

“You’re enjoying it.” Curly said, his lips shifting into a grin as he watched your expression soften.

“Maybe just a little.” You admitted, taking another bite. “But it’s definitely not because of the bread.” You smiled at him, feeling the warmth of the moment wrap around you like a blanket.

Curly chuckled, taking a bite himself. But when you noticed a few crumbs clinging to his lips, you reached out instinctively. “You’ve got something…” You murmured, brushing the crumbs off the corner of his mouth with your thumb. His lips quirked at your touch, eyes twinkling.

Before you could pull your hand back, Curly gently caught your wrist, holding it in place. His gaze locked with yours for a moment, soft and teasing, before he slowly leaned forward. His lips pressed against your fingers, and he licked a bit of jam that had smeared onto your skin, his eyes never leaving yours.

A warm flush spread across your cheeks as his lips lingered, the sensation sending a shiver down your spine. “Tastes better this way.” He murmured with a playful smile.

You couldn’t help but laugh softly, heart fluttering at the way he looked at you, so full of affection. “You’re impossible.” You whispered, feeling the closeness between you like a steady heartbeat.

“Maybe.” He said, still holding your hand gently in his, “But I make the jam taste sweeter, don’t I?”

You rolled your eyes, but your smile never faded as you leaned closer, resting your forehead against his. “Yeah, you do.” You whispered, feeling the warmth of him giving you comfort.

[milksuu]

❀. │GIRL DINNER (O2)│. ❀

❥ prompt: You're hungry. You want food. You want a snack. You just want SOMETHING. You send your HEARTSTEEL boyfriend(s) on a food-run adventure. Let's see what each boy brings back. ❥ content/warnings: sexually suggestive themes, fluff ❥ characters/pairings: v!Heartsteel (sett, yone, k'sante) / f!reader

SETT

foot-long sub and gatorade

When it comes to feeding you, Sett isn’t willing to compromise. He goes big, or he goes home. And he’s not going home empty handed. 

He Facetime’s you when he’s at the Deli counter of the local grocer, where the sub-meat selection is divine, options are abundant, and the portions are unbeatable. 

When you say you want double amounts of meat, you’re getting it. When you tell him you want more toppings, it’s done. Oh, you want your bread extra toasted and slathered in condiments? Baby, it’s yours. No problem—he’s got you.

When he comes home, you get a running head start, and jump into his arms without warning. The man has no trouble catching you, ever. 

As he greets your neck with a kiss, you lean and whisper into his soft ears about wanting to ‘share some’ with him. Since Sett has an uncontrollably tendency to go over-board with anything portion related, he’s more than willing to help you out. He understands you can't finish most things by yourself. Especially if he's the one serving you.

You huff with an embarrassed whine, shaking your head. You weren't talking about the food! 

Sett finally catches on by the squeezing of your legs around him, the flush of your cheeks, and the hot puffs you tow against his twitching ears. He hums a low and warm grumble at the insinuation. That large hand cradling your bottom squeezes in all the right places. It's enough to elicit a satisfied cry from your lips.

Sett really didn’t come home empty handed. In more ways than one.

YONE

home cooked meal and water

Yone was an expert and perfectionist—especially in the kitchen. Why would he buy you anything processed and unhealthy when he could make anything you desired? He wasn’t going to tolerate you poisoning yourself. Not on his watch. 

Insisting on cooking for you, you watched at how meticulous he was in the kitchen. His expertise with a knife was incomparable. You never realized chopping vegetables could be a discipline and an art form.

When he finished garnishing the plate, he served you. If you didn’t know any better, you would think the dish came straight from a Michelin five-star restaurant!

Not allowing it cool, you burned your tongue on your first bite. Yone chastised you (one of his ways of showing affection) before taking the next helping, and blowing away the steam. He raised the fork to your lips.

Yone was always cool, calm, and collected—but would then do things that were heart-pounding, sweet and seductive. You felt silly with embarrassment. You shook your head, declining his help.

Unacceptable. Yone took your chin without a word, pressed his lips against yours, and slipped a tongue to open your mouth. When you gasped a moan, he abandoned your mouth, and placed the food inside. He encouraged you to chew thoroughly, but all you wanted to do was collapse.

Yone was definitely an expert and perfectionist—at driving you absolutely mad about him.

K'SANTE

take-out and bottle of wine

K’Sante was never about the ‘Netflix and chill’ thing. More like the ‘Netflix and serve my Queen’ scene. And that’s exactly what he planned to do.

Knowing your favorite restaurant, he orders express delivery and pops the cork off of a pricey bottle of wine.

K’Sante has everything ready for the night. Lights dimmed, scented candles lit, and Netflix show ready to go at the press of a button. 

Like the Casanova he is, he serves you everything first. All the while showering you with compliments about how beautiful you are. K’Sante isn’t ashamed of expressing himself to what he likes—which is obviously you. 

After eating and having your fill of wine, you relax further into the couch with him. All the while, watching your shared guilty-pleasure reality TV-show; 'Too Hot To Handle'

The wine seems to get the better of you two. Spooning you from behind, you turn over a cheek expecting to see K’Sante watching the TV. Far from it—his lustrous gaze is on you. He graciously takes your mouth. Slow and passionate. And you can taste the spice of the wine. 

With eyes closed, you feel his trained hand slide across your waist, and slip between your thighs.

K’Sante wasn’t done serving his Queen. And that’s exactly what he planned to do.

[wimble-warcrime]

been watching wayy too many bushcraft stuff and wilderness survival competition tv shows, so im inspired first COD fic, but i've read too many not to contribute at this point

-bushcrafter!simon riley who is not normal about anything, lets be real here. he spends 6 months deployed in bumfuck-nowhere roughing it with the boys, only to return his own little piece of land in the middle of civilized bumfuck-nowhere. he bought the property after a night of too many drinks and decided in his drunken stupor that he had no need for people or pagentry. and he was right

-he sells most of his earthly possesions, putting whatever he can't (or won't) sell into a storage container he hauls up to the property. at first, with his military training and field experience, he gets by on the bare bones while he figures his shit out. this isn't some survival expedition with a clear goal--he's going full wildman, living in the woods like this. the only address he has is a p.o. box at the closest town's post office. it's a bit of a pain getting down there, so he goes only when he's visiting the local hardware stores--he becomes a familiar (albeit masked) face with the locals

-his set up is pretty swanky after a good few months in the wilds on leave. he may or may not have (but he'll never admit to it) scrolled on pinterest for a wee while looking at what the bushcraft and survivalist lads were building for some inspiration, but at the ends, he's mighty proud of his little cabin in the woods. each time he comes back from deployment, he adds more to it, eventually expanding it to have a sort of functioning toilet and shower, a little woodstove and a relatively comfortable bed.

-one day after a particularly grueling mission, he decides to see just how far he can take it. he's been hunting for his game and gets a box of the community garden vegetables delivered to his driveway every week, but he wants more of a challenge. so he starts gardening. ever one for a flare of drama, simon starts using the bones of his kills to turn into some half-decent knives and other tools. and as much fun as it is, doing his dooms-day prepping shit (as price has lovingly called it) he won't admit he's lonely

-gets a rescue dog called lucky--lucky only has three legs and one working ear, but the mutt is so darn cute he has to bring the poor beastie home.

-the pretty bird who volunteers at the animal shelter is also cute, and lucky has grown on you. you're weary to part ways with the dog, but the masked man and his terrible flirting are endearing enough to smooth over the comfort. after he leaves, you're naturally curious about just who that man was. you hear around the town that he's a recluse who lives in the mountains like a caveman (he for sure could pull off a loin cloth with those hips of his) and that he gets the local garden delivery box every week

-so you do as any rational human would with that information and sign up to volunteer with the garden center. they let you deliver boxes after a few weeks of consistent effort, and when you're manager hands you the list of addresses, she makes it very clear that on box in particular is to be left at the drive way and that's it. he doesn't like people nosing around

-you save his delivery for last, driving up the 'drive way' to the edge of the woods and no further. like the foolish girl you are, you get out of the car and start hiking into the woods to deliver this man his vegetables. halfway, you find lucky running about, the mutt so excited to see his favourite human he almost vibrates right out of his skin he happily leads you to his new home, where the man you hoped to find is chopping wood out front. shirtless.

-you're content to salivate over this mans physique but lucky is determined to share his excitement with his second favourite human and announces your presence by barking.

-simon is silently thrilled you're here. ever since he met you when he adopted lucky all those weeks ago, he's been working up the courage to go back and befriend you. only problem is, simon is not normal about anything, so he instead starts fancying up his house in the hopes that you might see it one day. he told himself it was a delusion to think you'd just appear without any effort on his part. but luckily for him, you're not normal about anything either.

-you get the grand tour of the place, making a few remarks on the garden out front and the adorable little wood stove in his house ("My grandma had one of these in her house, she used to cook with me on it all the time. my apartment isn't exactly equipped for one, but i've always wanted one anyways"). when you see his bed, you can't help but sit down on it, needing to know if it's a comfy and sturdy as it looks (def not imaging why it would need to be sturdy--you're a big girly, furniture needs to handle all that extra fluff if you're using it) it is exactly as comfy as you thought it would be, lying back against the hand-me-down quilt and closing your eyes

-you make a comment about how many animal pelt are in the bed, praising simon's expert preservation of the furs and off-handedly remarking how you always wanted to learn how to hunt. when you look up at him from his bed, raking your eyes over his giant frame standing there with barely contained lust? well, let's just say he's ruminating on how big the newest addition has to be for a nursery

----

this is just a drabble, but my panties get wet at the idea of a wild, forest-dwelling man sweeping me off my feet and away from civilization to go live with him in his little hut in the woods. im the type of delulu that would HAPPILY be a bare foot and pregnant wifey living with my half feral man who worships me daily and lives to please me

did i maybe ready waayyy too man werewolf romance stories as a tween? why yes, yes i did. it altered my brain chemistry in a way you guys just wouldn't understand, but i cannot be normal about relationships anymore and it's a problem

ANYWAYZZZ hope you enjoyed, cause i know i did ;)

[veronicaphoenix]

zutto — chapter five | wc: 6.5k | series masterpost | prev. chapter

chapter summary: as night settles in and the rain pours on, Lia finally says the three magic words

tags and trigger warnings: fluff, fluff, more fluff, noah making jokes about cucumbers, noah being jealous of brad pitt, mentions of noah's nightmares and references to everything that's happened until now, specifically lia's drinking habits, sexual content including dry humping, oral sex (male rec.), swallowing, one mention of choking, mentions of birth control pills, and p in v (unprotected).

general trigger warnings: this work addresses and depicts issues related to addiction, abuse, & violence, contains explicit sexual content, and explores themes of childhood trauma. Reader discretion is advised. +18

💫 @bluestdai precious fanart of noah and lia in this chapter

The storm was still pounding hard on the apartment windows by the time Noah came out of the shower.

            In fact, it seemed to have gotten worse. Noah didn’t remember seeing on the news that such a downpour was going to hit, but at the same time, it’s not like he’d been paying much attention to the weather either when all he’d been focused on was Lia. 

            And Lia continued to be the center of his attention as he shamelessly walked out of the bathroom naked and into the bedroom.

            He could hear her in the kitchen, opening and closing cupboards as she decided what to make for dinner. They could have ordered something, but they’d already used that option several times since returning to Los Angeles. Besides, with the weather outside, it didn’t seem wise to bother the delivery people. 

            His eyes fell on Lia’s bra, still lying forgotten on the floor beside the bed. Smiling to himself, Noah picked it up and placed it on the dresser where he’d had Lia sitting a while before, as he kissed her and she squeezed her legs around it. He remembered how she had kissed him, her legs wrapped around him. After pampering and cleaning her in bed, Lia had put on one of his T-shirts, slipped back into her panties, and donned some socks. Noah had then gone to take a shower. 

            Nearby, he spotted the empty condom packet and tossed it into the small wastebasket in the corner. He dressed in a white T-shirt and joggers before crossing the hallway to the kitchen. As he approached, Lia looked up, her expression lighting up. 

            “Hi,” Noah said, leaning against the counter that separated the kitchen from the dining area. 

            Lia had trouble looking away, admiring how handsome he looked with his damp hair and fresh scent. She had pulled her hair into a messy bun, but her flushed cheeks and the mix of sweetness and mischief in her eyes reminded Noah of a little girl who had just been kissed by the boy he liked. Unable to resist, he leaned toward her, resting his forearms on the marble countertop. He lifted her chin with two fingers and kissed her. 

            The kiss was brief but left a lingering warmth. When Lia pulled away, the sensation of Noah’s lips and fingers remained with her. Noah watched as she licked her lips, contemplating whether to take her back to the room or let her eat something first. 

            “You don’t taste like rain anymore,” Lia said, interrupting his thoughts. 

            “Ah, no? What do I taste like?”

            “Like Noah.”

            His smile broadened. 

            He moved around the counter to stand beside her, trying to keep the lingering euphoria in check as he scanned her bare legs. Picking up a piece of carrot Lia had been chopping, he playfully asked, “And now? Carrot?” 

            Lia’s laughter filled the kitchen as he kissed her again. Her joy warmed his heart.  

            “Can you grab the cucumber from the fridge?” Lia requested.

            “Sure thing,” Noah replied, retrieving the cucumber. “I didn’t realize it was that big when we bought it,” he teased, pretending to examine the vegetable closely.

            Lia rolled her eyes with a chuckle, her cheeks warming as she took the cucumber from him. 

            “What are you making?” Noah asked, glancing at the pot of boiling water on the stove.

            “Rice,” Lia replied. “I don’t want to upset my stomach. Is rice with chicken okay for dinner?”

            “Yes, that’s fine. Are you having a stomachache?” Noah’s concern was evident in the way he narrowed his eyes at her. 

            “No, just being cautious.”

            “Hm. And what’s that smell?” he inquired, scrunching his nose in curiosity as he looked back towards the stove. 

            “I added cumin seeds. They’re good for digestion.” 

            “Smells good.”

            "Uh-huh.”

            “I’m sure Davis’ used those before.”

            “Likely. Could you hand me the nuts from the cupboard behind you?”

            “Of course.” Before doing so, Noah leaned over and gave her a resounding kiss on the top of her head. Lia’s face flushed with a mix of surprise and delight as she began to cut into the cucumber. Although she was accostumed to his affection, she was aware that after that day, the line she had been so afraid to cross was now behind them. She would have to adjust to these new habits: Noah stroking her hair while she drew, her rubbing his leg under the table in public, sharing mischievous glances in crowded rooms, and exchanging kisses during mundane moments around the house. 

            A surge of happiness washed over her. As she continued with her task, she clung to that happiness, promising herself she would never let it go. 

            Together, they finished preparing dinner and ate with the rain and thunder as their backdrop. They chatted about the weather and other trivial matters. As expected, Lia brought up work and mentioned the trip to Japan. Noah steered the conversation away from becoming an argument by promising they would discuss it the next day, but not that night. 

            After dinner, Noah offered to do the dishes. Lia cleared the table and, once done, moved towards the bathroom for a quick visit before settling on the couch to watch a movie and fall asleep in Noah’s arms. However, as she took two steps out of the kitchen, she felt a tug on her shirt. Turning around, she saw that Noah had grabbed the stitching of her shirt and wasn’t letting go. 

            “What?” Lia asked. 

            Noah raised his eyebrows and said, “Give me a kiss.”

            The intensity of his gaze had grown since they’d made love, and the fluttering butterflies in his stomach had quickened. Lia’s confusing faded, replaced by a warm smile that spread across her face, turning her uncertainty into joy. 

            “Okay,” she replied, stepping closer and tilting her head up to meet Noah’s lips. He placed a gentle hand on her waist while his other hand held a plate. 

            “Get used to this,” Noah told her after pulling away. “I’m not letting you go anywhere without a kiss first, got it?”

            If Lia’s smile could have gotten any bigger, it would have. 

            “Understood.”

            Seeing her cheeks flush, Noah continued, “Gotta make up for all the ones we’ve missed.”

            Lia frowned in mock concern and replied in a low voice, “That’s going to be… a lot of them.”

            “Then we’d better start making up for them,” he concluded, dropping the dish he’d been washing. With suds-covered hands, he pulled Lia’s cheeks towards him and kissed her again. Lia’s giggles vibrated against Noah’s lips, and he felt the water from his wet hand slide down her cheek. 

            When they broke apart, Noah reveled in the fact that he was the one who could make Lia, whom he’d known all his life, so flushed.

            He pretended to focus on washing the dishes, saying to Lia, “I think you’ve got some suds on your face,” while gesturing to his own cheek. He let Lia turn away and lose herself in the hallway.  

            She was so consumed by love that after disappearing in the hallway she had to stop for a moment and steady herself against the wall.

            When she emerged from the bathroom five minutes later, the aroma of popcorn filled the house. Lia found Noah sprawled on the couch, legs outstretched, feet resting on a cushion on the coffee table. The TV displayed the Netflix home screen. 

            “I’ve made popcorn,” Noah announced, pointing to the bowl next to him. 

            “I can see that,” Lia replied, walking over and taking a seat beside him. 

            She couldn’t recall the last time Noah had seemed so relaxed. Even during the days they’d spent in her apartment, sheltered from the outside world, the tension had been palpable in his behavior. Despite their attempts to relax with movies, books, and tending to Lia’s flowers, Noah’s posture always hinted at worry, his attention frequently elsewhere. 

            As Lia settled next to him, she didn’t realize that that night, their focus would shift away from the movie and onto something much more comforting than the concerns that had weighed on them recently. 

            “Do you have any preference?” Lia asked, referring to the movie. 

            Noah shook his head. “Anything, but don’t make it sad.” 

            Lia leered at him a conflicted half-smile. She reached for the remote on the coffee table and perched on the edge of the couch as she navigated through Netflix. 

            Behind her, Noah’s eyes fell on her hair. She still wore it in a bun, exposing her neck, but a few strands had come loose. As his eyes traced down her back, almost smiling at how oversized his T-shirt looked on her, Noah couldn’t help but reach out and gently stroke one of the loose strands of hair.              

            Lia took a deep breath, struggling not to melt under his touch. She feared becoming like a lovesick teenager, but she let Noah touch her hair. As she pretended to be engrossed in choosing a film, Noah’s fingers continued to graze the stray strands of her hair before moving to trace gentle lines down her back over the fabric of his T-shirt. 

            “Are you feeling better?” Noah’s voice cut through the hushed tranquility of the apartment, his concern soft but clear amidst the rain against the windows. 

            Lia nodded, turning her head slightly to meet his gaze when she felt his fingers stop the patterns they’ve been tracing at her back. “I have a slight headache, but I can barely feel it,” she said, her voice carrying a trace of weariness but also relief. 

            Noah’s brow furrowed as his fingers resumed their soothing trail along her back. “Aren’t you tired? The withdrawal episode was pretty rough. And after that, we were cooped up in the room for a while.”

            Lia shrugged, a small smile tugging at her lips. “I might fall asleep ten minutes into the movie,” she admitted. “But I’m not sleepy—at least not yet—, which is strange.” 

            “We can go straight to bed if you need,” Noah suggested. 

            “No,” Lia replied, her hand reaching into the bowl of popcorn. “I feel like being here.” She popped a handful into her mouth, then glanced at him. “Should I bring something to drink?”

            “No, stay here,” he said, his tone dismissive.

            As Lia hit play and leaned back on the couch, the ambient light from the screen flickered softly around them, creating a warm glow. Noah wrapped his arm around her shoulder, pulling her snugly against him. Lia curled up beside him, her legs folded beneath her, her head resting comfortably on his shoulder. 

            “You don’t think about drinking at all?” Noah’s voice was barely a whisper, a low murmur that seemed to blend with the gentle patter of rain. 

            Lia sighed deeply, her shoulders slumping slightly. Her eyes were fixed on the tv screen, where the familiar Tristar Pictures logo began to dissolve into the opening scenes. “I know it sounds hard to believe, but ever since I woke up in the hospital, every time I think about alcohol, I feel a wave of disgust. It’s not that I haven’t thoguht about dirnking—I have. I just wouldn’t do it now, but I’m worried. I’m scared that once all this calms down… I’m afraid this will be temporary. And if that needs come back along with the withdrawal symptoms…”

            “Whether it’s temporary or not, we’ll deal with it together,” Noah reassured her. “No matter what.”

            Lia lifted her chin and gave him a tender, grateful smile. “I know.”

            Noah kissed her forehead before sinking deeper into the couch, adjusting his position to make her as comfortable as possible. “What movie did you choose?”

            “Legends of the Fall.”

            Noah raised an eyebrow in mock exasperation. “Brad Pitt again?” 

            “What do you mean, again? I can’t even remember the last time I saw a movie with Brad Pitt in it,” Lia retorted, a playful edge in her voice. 

            Noah made a grand, exaggerated gesture of annoyance, raising his eyes theatrically to the ceiling. Lia pulled away slightly and scowled at him, unable to supress a giggle. 

            “Are you jealous, is that it?” 

            “Me? Jealous of Brad Pitt? He’d probably enjoy that.”

            Lia laughed, and Noah, seizing the opportunity, slid his arm down to her waist and attempted to tickle her. Lia squirmed and laughed louder, gasping as she tried to get his hands off of her. “Okay, okay, I’ll stop.”

            After that, they settled into a placid time, the movie playing softly as the rain outside continued to fall, its rhythmic drumming blending with the flicker of the screen and making Noah and Lia’s effortless intimacy even sweeter. 

            Lia felt the rise and fall of Noah’s chest beneath her cheek, her hand resting on his thigh. Noah felt content; lost in the serene bliss of having Lia so close. He’d spent months —years, possibly— longing and dreaming of moments like this. The sight of her next to him, the ease with which they fit together, the memories of being inside of her and seeing his love reflected in her eyes, was a treasure he knew he would never take for granted. 

            Contrary to her earlier predictions, Lia remained awake as the film progressed. Her gaze drifted from the screen to her hand resting on Noah’s thigh. A subtle movement of her fingers, a gentle caress against the fabric of his sweatpants, distracted her. She wasn’t sure if she was more absorbed in the finger-dance she herself started or in the knowledge that she had her hand very close to Noah’s crotch.   

            As her thoughts drifted, she remembered the pleasure Noah had given her in bed, how it had allowed her to focus solely on the rhythm of their bodies moving together. It had been a welcome distraction from the pain she’d felt before, when her body had longed for a pill that would have done nothing to help. 

            But their lovemaking hadn’t been a mere temporary fix. It had been an act that solidified what had always existed between them and promised to be repeated in the future. 

            So, Lia found herself completely disengaged from the movie. Her hands, almost at their own accord, crawled towards Noah’s crotch. The moment she rested her hand on top of it, she felt his cock twitch beneath her fingers. 

            Noah, who had been making an effort to keep his attention on the film and resist the temptation of Lia’s touch, was interrupted when she touched him there. He looked at her, her large brown eyes brimming with a magical allure that always made his heart flutter. When Lia’s fingers moved to encircle the rapidly growing bulge in his sweats, Noah abandoned the movie entirely.  

            He set the popcorn bowl aside and pulled Lia onto his lap, her legs straddling him as her hands grasped his cheeks to draw him closer. Their lips met in a desperate kiss, as if the calm of the room had been merely a prelude to the passion that would consume them not long after right there. 

            Their breaths quickened with each brush of their lips, the playful dance of their tongues, and the fervent grip of their hands on each other’s bodies. Lia arched her body against Noah’s, pressing her chest into his. Her fingers glided down the back of his neck before returning to his face. She yearned to touch him everywhere, to feel every inch of his skin. Despite Noah’s hands holding her—one on her waist and the other one cradling her head, pressing her against him—Lia showed no intention of letting go. She tightened her grip behind his head, using the press of her mouth against his to convey that she didn’t want to be even an inch away.

            For a fleeting moment, as she heard a moan escape Noah’s lips, Lia opened her eyes. It was a brief second, but it was enough to send an electric thrill through her body. Seein Noah’s closed eyes and feeling his deep, passionate intentions toward her intensified her desire for him. 

            She relaxed in his arms, rubbing against him. A couple of hours earlier, she might have felt self-conscious about this, but now she was beyond caring. 

            She moved her hips against him, feeling Noah’s erection grow beneath her with each motion, warming her. Noah’s fingers fumbled with her hair stick, removing it and allowing her long hair to cascade freely. The scent of her shampoo enveloped his senses. Lia was all he could feel, smell, and breathe. He didn’t want it any other way. He caressed her hair, letting the strands slide through his fingers. 

            To his surprise, Lia pressed her body fully against him and grabbed his hair, tilting his head back and causing him to arch his neck. Without hesitation, Lia kissed her way down his jaw and chin until she reached his neck, where she nibbled on the red apple tattooed on his skin. 

            “Fuck, Lia.” His voice was restrained with pleasure. He melted beneath her, breathing softly in her ear, making a sound that seemed divinely orchestrated. 

            Lia continued to explore his neck, her lips trailing feather-light kisses. Her hands remained tangled in his hair while the other slid down to his chest, feeling the rapid beat of his heart. 

            Althought Noah had drawn the curtains on the balcony doors, a small gap remained uncovered. If Lia had looked that side, she would have seen her reflection—straddling noah while he reclined on the sofa, his profile illuminated by the soft light of a lamp in the corner, next to a strelitzia that Lia had tended to for over a year. 

            The tattoo on Noah’s neck seemed to writhe over his flexing tendons, its spirals a warning against anyone daring to disturb its owner. Lia lingered on the snake’s head before slowly moving up his neck and jaw, leaving a trail of delicate kisses. 

            When Lia released his hair, she moved back up to his mouth, mesmerized by the rhythm of Noah’s breathing. He lifted his head slightly, one hand slipping inside her shirt to rest on her side before moving to her neck, drawing her face closer to his. Lia watched as he closed his eyes and moistened his lower lip with a quick lick. He brushed his lips against hers with incredible softness, breaking contact for a few seconds and creating a tantalizing anticipation. With a slight tilt of his head, he lingered just out of reach. Lia felt gloriously overwhelmed when their lips finally met again, in a kiss so tender and unbearably slow that she felt like she was drowning in it, savoring the salty taste of the popcorn he had been enjoying.

            Gradually, Lia began to move against him with increasing fervor, driven by an energy she couldn’t quite pinpoint but knew she needed. She was desperate to feel Noah inside her again. While she was confident Noah would give her what she wanted, she didn’t want to rush. She was savoring the dance, and Noah was clearly enjoying it too.

            As her hands slid down his chest, expressing her desire to touch him, she pulled at his shirt. Noah lifted his arms obligingly, allowing Lia to remove it. Her lips immediately claimed his once he was shirtless, and Lia’s body responded to his nudity with euphoric intensity. Noah could feel her nipples hardening as she rubbed against him like a cat in heat.

            Driven by his most primal instincts, Noah grabbed a handful of Lia’s hair, kissing her with hunger. His cock throbbed in his pants, craving more attention than the heat of Lia’s groin. Noah’s fingers dug into her waist.

            However, in the midst of that moment, a memory struck him—his nightmare from the previous night, where he had been holding Lia so tightly he’d hurt her. His heart lurched in his chest. As Lia’s hand slid down his stomach and she nibbled on his lip, he almost stopped her, fearing he might be hurting her, someway, somehow. 

            Before he could react, Lia detached her lips from his and, in less than three seconds, slid off the sofa to kneel between his legs, her hands working on the knot of his sweatpants. Noah stared, stunned for a moment, his breathing ragged. Then, as the scene unfolded before him, he realized it wasn’t a nightmare. 

            It was a fantasy coming to life. 

            When Lia looked up at him, almost seeking permission, Noah noticed her flushed cheeks and a hint of embarrassment. She tugged at his pants, nonetheless, and Noah lifted his hips to help her remove them alongside his boxers. 

            Noah, breathless and overwhelmed, felt a rush of heat as Lia took him into her mouth. A curse caught in his throat as he let his head fall back against the sofa, consumed by the sensation of her fingers wrapped around the base. Her teasing licks sent shivers through him before she settled into a steady rhythm. Noah’s hand instinctively moved to her hair, and he tugged gently, his moans escaping uncontrollably. Unable to look away, he watched Lia kneeling before him, each pulse within her mouth heightening his pleasure. Lia, absorbed in the salty taste and strength of him against her lips, found the reality of being with him this way better than she’d ever imagined, though a flutter of doubt lingered in her mind. 

            Noah gathered Lia’s hair in his hands, his fingers brushing through the strands that framed her face. Lia was so absorbed in the need to please him and the softness of his touch that she wasn’t sure if his murmured encouragments were real or a figment of her imagination. Her fantasies seemed to blend with the sensations of the moment. 

            Overcome by a moment of insecurity, Lia paused, drawing a deep breath as she looked at the flushed tip and the veins tracing his length. He was breathtakingly beautiful. Noah’s hands fell from her hair. Lia placed her hands on his knees and met his gaze. 

            “Lia? What’s wrong?” Noah asked. Had he tugged to hard at her hair? Pushed himself to deep? Overwhelmed her? 

            Before he could voice his worries, Lia spoke softly, almost embarrased, “I’ve never–I’ve never swallowed.”

            If he was shocked by her confession, he didn’t show it. 

            “Lia, that’s okay. You don’t have to. It’s fine. You’re already—”

            “But I want to,” she cut him off, her big brown eyes starting up at him with such adoration that his cock twitched on its own. The realization of her wanting him to release in her mouth had his heart racing. 

            “I just—I might have to—” she trailed off, unsure how to express what she meant. Noah understood immediately and shook his head. 

            “It’s okay,” he reassured her. 

            “Can you just—not hold my head when you come?”

            “Of course. Whatever you want. But I swear I’d be happy with just—”

            She didn’t give him time to finish. Her mouth was back on him, and Noah swallowed hard, trying futilely to grip the sofa. He knew he wouldn’t last long. He had imagined Lia sucking him off countless times, but he hadn’t expected it to happen tonight. He would have been happy just making her feel good, but it was clear now that in their relationship, they were both equally interested in providing each other with as much pleasure as possible.

            Two minutes into it, Lia licked his frenulum with a teasing touch that Noah had never experienced before.

            “Wha—Fuck. Lia—Fuck.” His orgasm hit him like a tidal wave, making him buck his hips involuntarily.

            She gagged slightly as she felt his warmth spreading along his length until it reached the tip. His release filled Lia’s mouth and the back of her throat. The new experience, the taste, was overwhelming, but she forced herself to stay calm. She slowly released Noah from her mouth and swallowed, ignoring his intense gaze, as if he were worried he might come again just by watching her. Lia stood up and hurried to the kitchen, where she poured herself a glass of water and drank it in one go. Noah’s eyes stayed on her the whole time, even though he was sprawled on the couch, completely satisfied. 

            Lia took a deep breath as she set down the glass of water and smiled.

            “You okay?” Noah asked, amused, trying to recover his breath. 

            “Yeah,” she breathed out, catching her own breath. “Do you want some?” She lifted her now-empty glass. 

            “Yes, that’d be great.”

            She refilled her glass and poured another one for him. When he took it from her hand, he gulped it down and set it on the coffee table. Lia stood in front of him, eyeing the last drips of him that had come out. 

            “Do you need anything else?” 

            “Yes,” he said. “You.”

            He grabbed the back of her thighs and pulled her astride his lap, making her let out an adorable squeal. Before attacking her mouth, he grabbed the TV remote and switched off the movie that had been playing in the background. 

            “Fuck Brad Pitt,” he sentenced. 

            Lia’s mouth was hot, her lips slippery. 

            Lia’s clothes disappeared in no time—her socks, t-shirt, and panties scattered on the living room floor. 

            Noah’s lips traveled across her face, down her neck and chest, nibbling at her breasts and giving her nipples the attention they demanded. He was already hard again, and Lia would be lying if she said she didn’t feel a hint of pride in getting Noah so excited twice in less than five minutes. 

            Noah wrapped his arms around her and tried to move them so he could lay her down, but Lia pressed her hands on his shoulders and leaned her body weight against him, grounding him. 

            “I want to do it like this,” she said. 

            At this point, Noah was convinced he had been granted the greatest gift on earth. Lia wanted to ride him. There was no way he was going to deny her that. 

            “I’m all yours.”

            He slid down a bit, reclining his head and body so that he was half lying down, half sitting, but comfortably. This position would also give him a great view of her as she moved on top of him. His hands never left Lia’s hips. 

            “Condom?” he asked. 

            Lia’s eyes shot up. She glanced over her shoulder as if trying to recall if she had any condoms left anywhere in the house. She muttered a soft curse. “That was the last one,” she acknowledged, a hint of worry in her voice. Noah’s thumbs stroked her thighs. 

            “You’re not on the pill, are you?” he asked. 

            Lia shook her head. With all the medication she had been taking, one good thing was that she didn’t add another. Condoms had always been sufficient. 

            “I’m clean,” Noah said, hesitation in his voice. “I’m not saying it because I…”

            “I’m good, too.”

            “Lia…” he said, a warning in his tone. 

            “I don’t mind, really. I’d love to feel you like this. As long as… you know, just…”

            Noah nodded fervently, “I will.” 

            He fused his mouth with hers. 

            He had chosen her. Out of all the women—and men—at his feet, he had chosen her. A rockstar like him, with his bank account growing by the day, could have had anything, but he had chosen her. It had always been her. 

            “You’re going to spoil me, you know that?” Noah said. 

            “Maybe you deserve to be spoiled.” 

            She slowly sank onto him, her face contorting into an expression of blissful pleasure, mirroring Noah’s. She fit so well around him. 

            Just like that, she began a decadent dance on top of him, making the temperature in the room rise and their bodies start to glisten with a thin layer of sweat as they provided each other with pleasure not only through their bodies but also with the sounds escaping their mouths.

            Occasionally, Noah would grab Lia by the hair and pull her closer to kiss her, unable to stay away from her even while inside her.

            At one point, with their breathing calming, Lia rested her head on his shoulder. Her skin was flushed, and Noah’s kisses on her other shoulder and the caresses of his hands sliding up and down her back didn’t soothe her; they only heightened her arousal. Noah kissed her neck, lingering there longer than usual to leave a mark that would be visible for the next few days.

            “Tired?” he asked after noticing her movements had slowed.

            “Yeah,” she admitted, her breath heavy against his shoulder. “It’s been a long day.”

            He gently lifted his hips, his hands guiding her as he took control. As he eased her down onto him, she let out a deep sigh, her eyes fluttering closed in response.

            “I want to pleasure you,” she murmured, her voice barely audible.

            “What makes you think you’re not?” he countered, his tone light yet sincere. “You could be out in the garden, pulling weeds, and I’d still find pleasure just watching you. Don’t be silly, Lia.”

            His words seemed to drift away as her focus narrowed to the intense feeling of him filling her completely. Drawing on her remaining energy, she braced herself by placing her hands on his chest. Her expression was a mix of determination and fatigue.

            “As you wish,” Noah said with a resigned smile, lifting his hands in a gesture of surrender. 

            He observed her intently, his gaze tracing the subtle signs of her fatigue. The once-lively spark in her eyes was now dulled, overshadowed by a weariness that clung to her features. Her breaths came in shallow, uneven gasps, and her shoulders drooped slightly, as if the weight of her exhaustion had become almost tangible. Her movements, once fluid and confident, had slowed to a laborious rhythm, each shift of her body marked by a visible strain. The effort was etched in the way her brow furrowed and her lips pressed together in a thin line. Noah’s concern deepened as he noticed the tremor in her hands and the slight unsteadiness in her posture, the kind that spoke of both physical and emotional fatigue. 

            “Lia, stop for a moment,” he said, his hands gently gripping her hips. “You’re pushing yourself too hard. It’s not necessary. Try just moving your hips and let the rest of your body relax. Can you do that?”

            She nodded. Slowly, she began to shift her movements. With a deep breath, she eased herself up and then lowered her hips, her motions turning softer and controlled. Her body felt heavy, but she managed to find a rhythm, focusing on the subtle undulations of her hips rather than the whole of her being. Each descent was measured, the motion more fluid and less strained than before. She let her upper body remain still, leaning into his touch for support, while her hips did the work, creating a gentle, rolling rhythm against him. Her breathing steadied as she adjusted, her movements becoming a blend of exhaustion and desire, finding a delicate balance that allowed her to continue without overexertion.

            Noah’s hands remained steady on her hips, guiding her with a supportive touch, and his gaze softened as he watched her, appreciating the effort she put into adjusting her dance.

            “Feels good?”

            “I feel full,” she replied. 

            Full of me, Noah thought. 

         She looked so beautiful on top of him, with her head thrown back, neck exposed, lips parted, and the little furrow between her brows that told him she was lost in pleasure. He felt an intense urge to wrap his hand around her neck and apply just enough pressure to elevate her pleasure to new heights, but he hesitated. Knowing her past made him wary of pushing her boundaries. Instead, he let his fingers trail gently down her chin, neck, and chest. Her long hair, cascading over her shoulders and down her back, framed her as she moved her hips in seductive circles. 

            He knew there wasn’t anything in this world he wouldn’t do for her—his girl.

            They loved being in each other’s arms. It didn’t feel unfamiliar. It was comfortable and nice. If Lia had felt any shyness or inhibition about being naked and on top of him, it was gone. With the press of her palms on his chest, she helped herself move up and down on Noah’s cock, much to his pleasure. It was one thing to be inside of her, and another to see her use him to pleasure herself. She looked like a goddess on top of him, stunningly beautiful with her hair flowing freely. When she threw her head back one more time with a long moan, her lips red from his kisses, he grunted and his hips lifted uncontrollably, earning a follow-up cry of pleasure from Lia.

            She tightened around him in a way that nearly left him breathless. His brows furrowed, his body tensing.

            “What did you…? How did you do that? Fuck,” he managed, his voice thick with surprise.

            She did it again and smiled wickedly at his expression.

            “Are you trying to kill me? Is that what you’re doing?” he asked, his voice a mix of disbelief and challenge. Then he pounded into her hard, once, twice.

            Lia smiled widely. 

            “What are you smiling at, huh?” Noah asked, one hand sliding up to flick her nipple with two fingers.  

            “Nothing,” she replied with a smirk.

            “Nothing? You know exactly what you’re doing.”

            He thrust all the way in again, making her breath catch in her throat. She gripped his shoulders, her body surrendering to the overwhelming sensation of him buried deep inside her. 

            “Noah…”

            Both their orgasms were imminent. 

            A few more thrusts, their movements growing increasingly sloppy, and Lia announced she was about to come. The knowledge sent a jolt of excitement through Noah, his heart racing and his cock responding with fierce urgency. Lia clenched around him, rubbing her clit with the tips of three fingers, her moans building in intensity.

            Just as her cries reached a fever pitch, a particularly heavy clap of thunder roared outside, its explosive sound nearly drowning out her primal scream, the thunderous crack coinciding perfectly with Lia’s climax. She exploded in a wave of ecstasy, her cries mingling with the storm’s fury, as if nature itself was echoing the intensity of her release.

            Noah, driven by the electric energy of the moment, gripped her hips roughly and thrust into her with a raw, relentless rhythm. The thunder outside seemed to be in sync with his movements, each rumble intensifying his own impending orgasm. With a final, forceful thrust, he reached his peak, his body convulsing in a series of spasms as he pulled out of Lia, lifting her effortlesly from him. He unloaded himself onto his own stomach, a restrained wail escaping his lips, barely audible over the storm’s roar. 

            Breathing heavily, he drew her close, careful not to get her dirty with his come. Their movements were weary but the affection was still present. He kissed her, his touch tender despite the explosive moment they had shared. His hand moved to brush the hair from her face, revealing her post-orgasmic glow. She looked radiant—exhausted but deeply satisfied. 

            Outside, the storm continued to rage, its fury unrelenting. The heavy thunder that had marked their climaxes now became a distant rumble, a lingering reminder of the night’s dramatic and passionate intensity. Lia carefully turned around and reached for the box of tissues on the coffee table, her movements slow. With a slight grimace of effort, she grabbed a few tissues and returned to him.  She began to clean him. The soft rustle of the tissues and their quiet breaths filled the room, the rain and thunder background music.

            As she worked, a hint of wistfulness crossed her face. “Do you remember...” Her expression was bittersweet, as if she was wrestling with her own emotions. Noah’s gaze shifted from her fingers, carefully wiping the last traces of his release with a crumpled tissue, to the way her lashes cast shadows over her eyes. “The night we had sex—drunk sex,” she clarified, avoiding his eyes. “It was also raining.” 

            Noah’s gaze softened as he took in the reminiscence. 

            “I remember,” he said, his voice low and reflective. He placed his hands on her hips and begand rawing circles with his thumbs, sensing how she relaxed under his touch. “Maybe the rain knew all along… It knew this was meant to be, you and me.”

            “Then it had more clarity than I did,” she replied, a trace of frustration in her voice as she chided herself.

            Determined not to let Lia’s demons intrude, he sat upright and lifted her, instructing her to lie down and relax. He placed her back on the sofa, picking another tissue to wipe her before he took the rest of tissues from her hands and walked to the kitchen to dispose of them.  

            When he returned, he found her lying on the couch, utterly spent. Her body was relaxed, one of her hands grazing her clavicle, her legs bent comfortably with her feet flat on the cushions. He sat down beside her, a satisfied smile gracing his features. With an almost reverent touch, he extended his arm and placed his hand on her stomach, starting to run his fingers up and down in an hypnotizing pattern. His expression changed, softening as he took in the sight of her, vulnerable and serene. The warmth shared, the scent of their coupling, and the gentle rain outside made the room feel like a safe haven.

            “Lia, I need to hear you say it,” he said then, softly, his voice rich with earnestness.

            She paused, taking in his request. It took her a moment to speak, not out of doubt but because she wanted to convey the full depth of her feelings. It was the first time she would vocalize them, and she wanted him to fully grasp the significance of her words.  

            After a deep, steadying breath, she finally said, “I love you, Noah.”

            The way he smiled then could’ve stopped wars.

            Moments later, he lifted her off the sofa, eliciting a surprised little scream from her.   

            “Where are we going?” she asked, her voice a mix of curiosity and excitement.

            “To the bedroom,” he replied. “So I can keep loving you. Think you can give me a fourth one?” His hand slid down to her bottom, giving it a gentle, affectionate pat, as his question vibrated in her ear. 

            She nestled against his neck, a mix of sleepiness and joy washing over her. “That depends on your performance,” she murmured, fully aware of how her words would tease him.

            “On my performance?” He said, souding both incredulous and slightly amused. His tone shifted to a teasing lilt. “Seems like you haven’t seen me on stage.”

            Lia giggled against his shoulder.

            “I have… But you might have to remind me,” she replied with a mischievous glint in her eye.

            He carried her to the bed, laying her down gently. He turned her onto her stomach and dove straight into her left buttock, nibbling and growling playfully. Her laughter bubbled up as she lifted herself on her forearms, watching him over her shoulder. Her gaze was filled with both trust and desire as he positioned himself behind her.

            “With pleasure.”

— prev. chapter | chapter six

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If there's anyone I'm forgetting or that wants to be added to the taglist, please let me know 🥰

[writeroutoftime]

Can I request a carmy x reader where they’re dating and carmy blows up at her and he immediately feels bad and tries to apologize and she brushes him off and keeps cooking but gives him the hand signal from s2 and after service he’s a big apologizing mess

pairing: carmen berzatto x reader

words: 0.7k

a/n: anon, thank you for this request! had a little trouble with this one, so I'm sorry if anything feels weird or ooc, but I hope you enjoy! (and if we're saying when this takes place - probably few weeks after the bear has been open, so after the end of season 2 but no spoilers)

oOoOo

It started with little annoyances throughout the day that kept building and building. A late delivery of ingredients, last minute cancellation of a large party, and a call-in sick from one of the new hires. Each new development sent Carmen spiraling further and further, all culminating during The Bear's dinner service.

"Where the fuck are my entrees for table 33?" Carmen shouted, his voice ringing out in the kitchen.

"Coming right up, chef." you called back, plating the dishes as fast as you possibly could.

Order after order came through, all night, and being one chef down meant those left in the kitchen had to pick up the extra slack. But the synergy was off and the moment you stepped back to pour the sauce, someone slammed into you from behind, and the sauce went everywhere but the dish - including all down the front of your apron.

"Chef, entrees for 33, now!" Carm's voice rang out with a notable edge to his tone.

Huffing, you quickly salvaged what was left of the sauce. "Hold on." you grounded out finally placing the dishes next to Carmen, waiting for a server to deliver them to customers.

"What is this shit?" he demanded before you could skitter back to your station. "This is looks completely fucked."

"Carmen, calm down. It's fine." you placated, rushing back to work on the next set of orders, but Carm wasn't done just yet as he let the rest of his day finally boil over onto you.

"No, it's not fine. We need to be better than this." he yelled, stalking towards you. " Don't pull this kind of shit again. You need to be better than this!" he yelled, then scoffed as he headed back to expo. "God, don't know why I hired you." he muttered, pulling out the next ticket.

Though his words were hushed, he might as well have yelled them because the entire kitchen went silent, all eyes turning to stare at Carmen. Yes, it wasn't unusual for his outburst, but he had been doing better at managing his stress and frustration. Not to mention he never spoke to you that way before.

It took Carmen a moment, but he finally registered his words once his brain processed the silence and the narrowed glances his way. As though he had been shocked, Carm jumped back from his station and hurried over to yours, wiping sweaty palms on his apron.

"Hey, y/n, I-I shouldn't have shouted at you like that." he started, trying his best to look you in the eyes.

The only response Carmen received was a harsh chop of your knife as you diced the vegetables in front of you for the next set of orders you needed to finish up. Your own rage boiled inside, but this wasn't the time or the place to deal with it, so you channeled everything into your cooking.

"Seriously, that was uncalled for. I didn't mean what I said." Carmen continued, his voice growing a little more desperate at your lack of response. But before he could speak again, he caught your hand gesture through the corner of his eye.

Taking a moment, you placed your knife down and rubbed a closed fist against your chest. Of course, Carmen wasn't off the hook, but you knew dinner service had to be finished before you could address the line of your relationship that had been crossed. With a half-defeated sigh, Carmen nodded his head, copying the gesture, and continued to call out tickets - this time noticeably calmer.

oOoOo

A few hours later and the kitchen was just about empty. Most of the other chefs had rushed to clean their stations and leave the moment the last order went out. No one wanted to stew in the tension any longer. Though, Tina did offer you a half smile and a comforting touch on her way out.

When it was just you and Carmen left, you kept your head down, scrubbing away at your already cleaned surface. You could hear his footsteps echo until he stood only a few feet away, but you knew he needed to be the one to initiate this conversation.

"Look, y/n, I shouldn't have done that tonight."

"Done what?" you pushed, but Carmy only shook his head, confused and grasping for a response. "You shouldn't have said those words to me, or you shouldn't have shouted at me like that when the rest of the kitchen was also a fucking mess?"

"Oh, um, both." he stuttered out, clearing his throat. Then after a few moments. "I'm sorry, I really am. I just get so caught up in it all, and I know that's not an excuse. I'm going to do better." he promised, fighting back to tears that began to mist over his eyes.

His words washed over you, and you let out a huge sigh. This wasn't the first blowout you'd had with Carmen, and you knew how difficult it could be for him to allow himself to be vulnerable.

"Look, what you said, really hurt, Carmy, but I know you didn't mean them." you began, and Carmen had his own moment of relief when you used his nickname and held out your arms for him to step into. "The Bear is going to be a success, okay? All of us are going to get it there. But, in the meantime, let's find some ways to help us cool down. We're a team right?"

"Yeah, yeah we are." he mumbled against your skin, thankful to be so close to you once more, and willing to do what it took to keep it that way.

[startrekfangirl2233-writes]

Hi hello!

💗 with Jake and Baby Blue? I love how sweet Jake is and how soft they are together, so more of that would be amazing!

Love you Star!

💗 slow kiss / gentle kiss / inevitable / soft with Jake and Baby Blue

Thanks for requesting this, Fern! I hope you love how flirty and fluffy this is!

There's music playing when you let yourself into the apartment one blustery fall day. Living in California, it's never quite as cold in December as it is in other areas of the country. But when you’ve been running between buildings on campus all day, it's still nice to slough off your coat and toe away your boots in the warmth of Jake’s foyer. Normally, he’s still at the office when you get back from your last class of the day, leaving the apartment dark and silent until you gather up the energy to make some dinner in between bouts of paper writing and studying.

Today was such a harrowing day, you were debating whether you should call up the Chinese restaurant down the road on your way up to the apartment or if you should just make something easy. Takeout was winning the mental battle. You’d get Jake's favorites and yours, and crack open a bottle of wine for the two of you to enjoy as you sat at the table in your pajamas. Obviously you don’t have to do that anymore. But other than the soft music, you can barely hear anything else. Jake’s a force of nature. Every room he enters feels his presence. It’s not that he’s loud, which to be clear he is, it’s that he takes up a room just by being in it. So why can't you hear anything else? 

You pad into the kitchen, trying not to make any noise. It’s not often Jake cooks for you - the music playing, Ella Fitzgerald crooning away, evidence that he had indeed been cooking for you - and you desperately want to see him in the act. You can imagine, in a love-sick sort of way, how he furrows his brow as he looks down at the ingredients. How he bites his upper lip in concentration as he chops vegetables and tastes what he’s making. It’s a sight you’ve only seen once in your relationship, and the last time you were too sick to enjoy or remember much of it. But the kitchen is deserted, only the smell of the lasagna bubbling in the oven and the music playing from the speaker on the counter an indication that he was once here. 

You finally find Jake sprawled out on the oversized sofa in the living room. He's fast asleep, hair mussed, cheeks a little pink with his face smushed into a cushion in his arms. He's wearing the soft pants which drive you a little mad and a sweater. Even when he’s at home he dresses like he’s going to be photographed for a magazine. The sweater’s rucked up a little from where he’s twisted on the sofa, revealing a trail of burnished gold slipping beneath the waistband of the aforementioned dangerous pants. He looks so peaceful, so relaxed that you leave him be, walking into the bedroom to change into loungewear of your own.

“Baby Doll?” His voice is sleep-slurred as you carefully lever the lasagne out of the oven fifteen minutes later.

“I’m in the kitchen, Jake!” You call back, keeping your focus on the lasagne as you set it carefully on the counter.

“Mmmm, baby doll, a man could get used to having you in his kitchen dishing up dinner like that.”

It’s so sleazy, so unexpected, you cackle with laughter. You know better than anyone Jake doesn’t actually believe a woman’s place is in the kitchen. He just has a fondness for your ass in this particular pair of satiny pajama shorts. But the delivery of the sleazy pickup line has you bending at the waist as unrestrained laughs leave your lips.

“Th-that’s so bad!”

By the time you straighten, Jake’s at arm’s reach, and you’re struck with the need to kiss him now that he’s awake.

“If that’s so bad then how come you look like you really desperately need a kiss, then, huh, baby doll?”

His hands are hot as they slip under the hem of your soft shirt. 

“I always want to kiss you, Jake.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.” 

Your words are swallowed in a tender kiss, your body wrapped tight in his arms as he kisses the breath out of your lungs. It’s a kiss so sweet you could live in it forever, soothed by the scent of him, the feeling of him, just surrounded by him in general. His hand tangles in the hair at the base of your skull, big palm hot as he draws you closer. You can’t help how you curl your fingers into his hair in return as you reciprocate the motion, dragging him in until he's pressed up against you. You've been overthinking how you feel about him recently, choking back those three little words which share a part of yourself you've never shared with anyone else before. But now you want to so desperately, you can’t rationalize a better time than this. So when you pull away, finally, because you need to breathe and not because you want to, you murmur, “I love you” against his lips.

He lets you sweat a little, standing in the circle of his arms. You catalog every inch of his face, tracing the small wrinkles at the corner of his mouth and the glimmers of gold in his green eyes. You're counting his eyelashes, ridiculously thick as they feather around his eyes when he breaks the silence.

“If it wasn’t obvious, Baby Blue, I love you, too.”

Your squeal is so loud you're sure someone could hear you from a mile away. But you don’t care. The lasagna goes cold on the counter, ready to be reheated in the middle of the night when you're a little more kiss-bitten and sore. The fresh fruit and whipped cream which were supposed to be your dessert are put to very good use, albeit not in the fashion they were intended to be. Neither of you mind.

Ask me to write a kiss for one of my pairings!

[in-my-feels-probably]

I can’t remember fr 😭 but here’s maybe another idea? Carmenxreader where the reader works as a chef at the restaurant as well and one day when they’re specially stressed out carmy blows up on her face (kinda like how he does to Sydney on ep 7) and she straight up walks out as well, the difference here is that they live together and obviously they can’t exactly ignore each other at home OR as an alternative, he blows up in her face and she has that kinda silent anger that’s even scarier than when someone has a screaming match with you, so when she simply turns around and goes back to work, Carmy is afraid for his life because he can practically see the anger radiating off of her, either one is fine! And ending is up to you! (But make is happy pls because I am a baby and will cry at too much angst :’)) thank you!!

Crash and Burn

Request: Carmenxreader where the reader works as a chef at the restaurant as well and one day when they’re specially stressed out carmy blows up on her face (kinda like how he does to Sydney on ep 7) and she straight up walks out as well, the difference here is that they live together and obviously they can’t exactly ignore each other at home OR as an alternative, he blows up in her face and she has that kinda silent anger that’s even scarier than when someone has a screaming match with you, so when she simply turns around and goes back to work, Carmy is afraid for his life because he can practically see the anger radiating off of her, either one is fine!

Hi! I’m so sorry for the long wait, I’ve been so busy but I’ve got some time now. I’m still getting the hang of writing for Carmy, so bear with me if it’s a little bit rusty. Anyways, I hope you enjoy it!

(Warnings: swearing, shouting, slight angst, let me know if i missed anything)

—

Today was not your day. It wasn’t anyone’s day at the Beef’s, to be more specific. 

And to make it worse, you were prepping for a catering event Carmy couldn’t say no to. You needed the cash, and so it had to be done. But—of course—everything had to go wrong, one shitty situation after the other. 

First, the meat delivery man dropped off fifty pounds of the wrong kind of meat, which immediately put Carmy in a bad mood. Then, he accidentally scorched the bottom of a pan after he forgot to check it while he was whisked away doing other things, and he had to start his stock sauce over completely. Unfortunately for you, it was a new recipe, and he was the only one who knew how to make it. It set him back at least an hour, and now you were rushing to pick up the slack of his duties on top of yours while he continued his.

It seemed as if everyone was having a bad day. Marcus couldn’t get the consistency of his cake batter right. Richie left his cigarettes at home and was forced to work through his smoke break, loudly griping about it to you while he chopped vegetables. Tina was late to work because of an appointment she had to take her son to, and she refused to cancel it and make another. Not that you blamed her.

You could overhear the phone call she had with Carmy letting him know she was stuck on the L train. When he asked why she couldn’t have just rescheduled, her scolding could be heard even from outside his office door. 

“It took me three fucking weeks just to even get the place to answer the phone without putting me on hold, I’m not about to wait another month!”

Carmy sighed, wiping a hand down his face. “We’re really busy today, Tina, if you could just please hurry—”

“Yeah, I’ll tell the conductor to step on it. Give me a minute, kid, I’ll be there soon.”

She arrived shortly after her phone call, making herself scarce when she saw Carmy hunched over a pot, muttering fragmented sentences to himself that would make a sailor blush. You quickly hurried her over, telling her to grab a knife and help you chop. 

The icing on the fucking cake—metaphorical of course, since Marcus had yet to actually bake any cake—was the client calling Carmy in the middle of the lunch rush and demanding the event’s catering be pushed up half a day, or else they would cancel entirely and expect a refund. A refund you didn’t have, as you had already spent the moneyt, so you had no choice but to oblige them. Meaning that instead of the extra time in the morning everyone had to prep, they’d instead have to finish that evening. And as if that couldn’t get any worse, Richie was going to have to leave halfway through the dinner shift to go pick up his daughter, which was unmissable. 

It would be you, Carmy, Tina, Marcus, and Sydney after the restaurant closed, working overtime and scrambling until you finished. 

Although, it was hard to ponder the next few hours when you were up to your neck in to-go orders, wrapping up sandwich after sandwich that Richie was making and sending your way in between taking orders at the counter. In fact, everyone was up to their necks in duties, frantically working and bustling around the kitchen. 

“Sydney, I’ll sign the lease to my apartment over to you and my savings account for rent if you take that meat cleaver and hit me over the head with it. If I don’t die, at least I’ll get sent to the hospital and be able to get the fuck out of here,” you groaned, wrapping yet another sandwich and sliding it back to Richie at the counter. 

Carmy tsked, not looking up from the now four separate pots on the stove he was managing. “Considering I live there, too, I think you’re gonna have to tough this one out for me.”

“For fucks sake,” you whined, heading into the front of house to grab more wrappers. 

Richie patted your shoulder on your way back into the kitchen, chuckling when you glared up at him. In a rare moment of peace when there was a gap in customers, he headed back into the kitchen to help you with the online orders. 

“Hang in there, kid,” he said, reaching into his back pocket before he groaned. “Shit, do you have any smokes?” 

“Nope,” you replied, immediately souring his relatively calm mood. 

“Fuck!”

He then took to angrily assembling and wrapping orders, shooing you away from the to-go station. Not that you were complaining, you could practically feel the anger radiating off him as he worked. 

You chose to help Carmy, who looked like he was about ten seconds from a mental breakdown. You rested a hand on his back as you approached him, gently rubbing up and down. 

“Where do you need me, love? Can I help?”

He sighed in frustration, shaking his head. “Nah, I’ve got this. Can you help Tina in the walk-in? She’s been in there a while.”

“Yup,” you smiled, hooking an arm around his middle giving him a quick hug, before heading into the back where the freezer was. 

When you opened the door, Tina was standing on her tippy toes, trying to put a big container of sauce on the top shelf. You furrowed your brows in confusion, wondering why she hadn’t asked someone a bit taller, like Marcus, to help her lift it up. She’d been gone from her station for what was probably twenty minutes now, and it was hard to imagine her standing like that instead of simply asking for help. 

You let the door close behind you, stepping in to help. “Tina, what are you doing?”

“I’ve got it, it’s fine. I’ll be right out,” she replied, taking a step up onto the bottom rank of the shelf. 

“Tina—” you gasped, eyes widening. 

She quickly turned towards you, one hand clinging to the shelf, the other supporting the container. “Y/N—”

Suddenly, her foot slipped down off the shelf, and she lost stability. The container came crashing down, splashing sauce all over the floor and across your shoes and the bottom of your pants. You quickly jumped over the puddle, offering your hands for Tina to take. 

“Come on, then. Get down, I’ll get us a few rags and we can clean this up,” you said, taking her hands in yours as you helped her step down. “We only lost the top bit, I think the rest of this is salvageable. I’ll ask Marcus to put this up on the shelf once we get it cleaned up in here.”

“Damn it,” she muttered, slipping her shoes off at the door so she didn’t track sauce all over the kitchen. 

You did the same, opening the door for her. “It’s alright, I’ve done this at least twice since I started working here. Sydney, too. It’s not our fault these shelves are so fucking high.”

Tina managed a chuckle, grabbing the mop bucket. “What a shitty day.”

“Agreed,” you replied, heading over to where you kept the clean towels and rags stocked.

You passed by Carmy on the way, who raised a brow at your disheveled appearance. “Drop something?”

“Not me, just in the splash zone. Don’t worry, I’ll get it cleaned up.” 

He was slicing meat now, and he frustratedly paused, setting his knife down. “Which sauce?”

“Uh, the garlic aioli, I think. I’m not sure, they’re all the same color, but it currently reeks of garlic in the walk-in, so I think my guess is pretty accurate.”

“Shit,” he sighed, picking the knife back up. “Could you be more careful, please?”

You raised a brow. “Well, I wasn’t the one who dropped it, but—”

“Yeah, yeah, just be fucking careful, alright? I don’t think we’ll survive any more shit today, we’re barely gonna make it as is.”

You flinched back at his sharp tone and raised volume, trying not to look too affected by his words. Suddenly, Richie called over his shoulder, scolding Carmy. 

“Cousin! Be fucking nice, leave her alone. Don’t be a dick, it was an accident.”

Carmy’s face fell as he watched your falter, and he cleared his throat, sniffing. “I’m sorry, I know it’s not your fault. There’s just too much shit to deal with today.”

You nodded and went to grab the towels, circling back by him as you walked past. You spoke carefully, not wanting to make him feel any worse than he already did. You knew he was under a lot of stress and didn’t mean to snap at you, but you’d much rather avoid any further potential snapping if you could, letting him be. 

“Take a breath, Carm. We’re gonna be fine, we still have all evening.” 

He nodded, mustering up a small smile. “I know. I’m sorry.”

“It’s alright, really,” you said, rubbing his shoulder as you walked back into the walk-in. 

Sighing, you got down on your hands and knees and started wiping up the mess. Tina stuck to the higher bits of the shelf that the sauce splashed onto. It took about ten minutes, but you finally managed to get everything up. You wiped the bottom of your shoes last, and then all the sauce was gone. Tina ran a mop through the freezer one last time, and you were finished after you got rid of the dirty rags. 

You joined Sydney at her station, tying a new apron around your waist. 

“Shitty day?” She asked, reaching for a sharper knife. “Twenty bucks on it getting even shittier.”

You huffed out a laugh. “I’d lose that bet. I guarantee we’re all gonna want to quit by tomorrow morning.”

“Fantastic,” she said, plastering a fake exaggerated smile on her face.

—

The rest of the dinner shift was—as predicted—miserable. Richie practically danced as he clocked out, saluting everyone before running out the back door to his car. Thankfully, he closed the front of the restaurant before leaving, which saved you all an extra half hour.

Everything settled down a bit once you all were steadily working in the back, but you were still rushing to make your new deadline. Everyone stuck to their own stations, in the zone as they worked. 

You finished your first round of work, deciding to see if anyone else needed help with getting theirs done. 

“Hey, Tina—”

She put a hand up, stopping you. “I’m good, mija. Talk to Jeff.”

“Heard,” you grinned, before walking over to Carmy. “Need me to do anything here?”

He took a breath, eyes scanning over his work before he nodded. “Yeah, uh…I braised the beef earlier. Could you slice it up thinly, and then pass it to Sydney? She needs it for prep.”

“Yup,” you nodded, grabbing a knife and the tray of meat. 

You began to make small talk as you worked, first with Carmy, then with everyone else. It was beginning to get late, and you all were a little delirious. Soon enough, the kitchen was full of laughter and scuffling feet as you moved around, telling joke after joke. It was a little loud, admittedly, but everyone seemed to be in high spirits. 

“Alright, alright, I’ve got one,” Marcus said, loading a tray into the oven. “When does a joke become a dad joke? When it’s apparent.”

You stifled a laugh as best you could, but you failed when Tina burst out laughing, crossing her legs. 

“Stop it, I'm gonna piss myself!”

That got Sydney, who’s laughter was practically echoing off the walls. “That’s some popsicle stick shit right there.”

You wiped your eyes with the back of your hand, tears falling as you chuckled. You could feel the heat in your cheeks as you laughed, your stomach beginning to ache. You looked over at Carmy, and realized that he had stopped laughing. He had smiled and chuckled at the first few jokes, but now he was quiet, working with tired eyes. 

“You got any jokes, Carm?” You asked, taking a step closer to him.

“What?” He asked, finally looking up at you. “Uh…no, no I don’t.”

“Oh, come on,” Marcus drawled over his shoulder, turning to look at Carmy. 

“No.”

You nodded, urging him along. “Yeah Carm, just give it a shot.” 

“No,” he said curtly, turning back to his work. 

You gave him a grin, trying to put him in a better mood. “Carm, just try—”

“Y/N! No!” He shouted, dropping his knife on the counter with a loud clang. “Could you just leave me alone for a minute, please? I mean, fuck! What’s with you today? We’ve got shit to get done. Just work! Without all the yammering, preferably.”

“Woah!” Tina shouted, immediately coming to your defense. “Take the stick out of your ass, leave her alone!”

Your jaw slacked at his words, but you quickly recovered, standing up straight. You could feel the ache in your heart at his scolding, and the tinge of embarrassment heating up your cheeks. But you steeled your emotions, setting your shoulders back as you picked up your knife, continuing to chop. You could hear arguing around you, but you ignored it, keeping your head down. 

Carmy immediately regretted his outburst, and he would have reached out to you if Sydney and Tina hadn’t immediately put themselves between you and him. 

“You alright?” Marcus said quietly, coming to stand by your side. 

You nodded, giving him a small smile. “I’m fine, I promise. Thanks.”

“Y/N,” Carmy started, and you could see the regret in his eyes. 

He dropped what he was doing, trying to come over to you. But you raised a hand, stopping him in his tracks. 

“I said I’m fine,” you replied curtly, turning to Sydney. “Syd, I’ll finish slicing the beef so I can give it to you, and I’ll finish up with anyone else who needs me for something. But I’m leaving the second I’m done.”

Sydney gave you a look of sympathy. “You don’t have to, I can finish this.”

“I’m not gonna throw a tantrum and make your job any harder just because I want to leave,” you sighed, throwing a sharp glare towards Carmy. 

You could see his jaw clench, and he cast his eyes to the floor. You scoffed, quickly going back to your work. Working as fast as you could, you finished within the next half hour. Walking over to Sydney, you placed the tray of sliced beef in front of her. 

“Here,” you groaned tiredly, pinching the bridge of your nose. 

She frowned, patting your arm. “Go home, babe. Get some rest.”

“I will, let me just ask Tina—”

“I’m fine,” Tina interrupted, holding her hand up when you tried to speak again. “Marcus, too. Seriously, mija. Go home.”

You finally relented, nodding. “Alright, fine. I’ll see you guys in the morning.”

“Love you,” they called out in sequence, watching you grab all of your things and head for the door.

You called back to them telling them you loved them, passing Carmy on your way out. He looked up at you as you walked past, his face full of regret, and a slight bit of fear. You smiled sweetly at him, making him shift back and forth uncomfortably. 

“See you at home.”

He visibly paled, and you choked down a sinister laugh as you walked out the door. 

—

Hours later, Carmy gently opened up the front door to your shared appointment. He was practically tiptoeing, trying not to wake you up. As he flicked on the lights, he took a startled step back when he saw you sitting on the couch, a book beside you that you had long since abandoned. The TV dimly lit the room, on a low volume.

“There’s leftovers in the fridge,” you said quietly, not taking your eyes off the TV. “Eat.”

You may have been pissed—beyond pissed—but you didn’t want him to starve. The whole day, and you couldn’t remember seeing him eat even once.

“Y/N—” He started gently, but you cut him off. 

“Eat…then we’ll talk.”

He sighed, nodding as he walked over to the fridge. After a few minutes of dawdling around the kitchen, he finally joined you, cautiously taking a seat next to you. 

You didn’t turn to him as you spoke. “Did you finish? Everyone get home okay?”

You could hear him fidgeting next to you, which led to you finally faltering and looking over at him. The look on his face almost made you take pity, but you waited for him to speak first. He finally did, breaking the silence. 

“I’m sorry,” he said, fiddling with his hands in his lap. 

You raised a brow, having to urge him to continue. “For?”

“For being an asshole,” he finished, his eyes softening on you. 

You nearly smiled, raising a brow. “You really mean that, don’t you?”

“You were trying to help, and I was being a dick about it. You were under just as much stress as I was, and it was out of line yelling at you in front of everyone like that. I shouldn’t blow up on anyone like that, but especially not you. I’m sorry.”

“You really embarrassed me, you know,” you said, your voice beginning to waver. 

Carmy winced as you spoke, nodding. “Yeah, I know. I’m sorry for that, too.”

Sighing, you gently took his hand. He immediately clung to yours, squeezing it as he turned to face you more. 

“You could just talk to me,” you whispered, rubbing your thumb along the back of his hand. “Tell me if I’m being too loud, or if you want me to do something else. I just want to help you. We all do. And we can’t do that if you don’t tell us what you need.”

“They all think I’m an asshole, don’t they? I would if I heard someone yelling at their girl like that.”

You shook your head, squeezing his hand again. “No, Carm. They don’t think you’re an asshole. They know you’re under a lot of pressure, and honestly, I think they’d say you’re handling the change of pace really well. Marcus and Sydney would, at least. Not sure about Tina. Definitely not Richie.”

Carmy let out a laugh at that, leaning back into the couch. “Yeah, well…he’s an asshole, too. Takes one to know one.”

You grinned, resting your head on his shoulder. “You’re not an asshole…at least, not all the time.”

“Fuck you,” he spat, although he was grinning, too. “And yes, by the way. We finished up, and everyone made it home safely. It’ll be a long day tomorrow, but we’ve done the hard part.”

You hooked your arm under his, leaning against his side. “I’m glad. It’s good money. We needed this job. Not sure it was worth all the rage, but I’m sure I’ll be saying differently tomorrow.”

“It’ll be worth it,” he said, leaning over to press a kiss to the top of your head. “Thank you.”

You smiled, grinning dramatically. “What would you ever do without me?”

He shrugged, leaning further into you as he let out a deep sigh. “Crash and burn, probably.”

“Well, we can’t have that, can we?”

��

A/N - Hi! So sorry again for the wait, I hope this is what you were looking for. Let me know what you think! Thank you again for requesting :)

[aarohij]

Colorful Creations: Mastering the Art of Vegetable Paratha Cooking

Parathas are the unhinged part of Indian households. From basic plain parathas to flavorful vegetable parathas, they contain nutrients, flavors, and colors. If your kid refuses to eat veggies, you can add them to your parathas with the necessary spices to make them eat veggies without knowing. Vegetable parathas are best for testing and health and can be included in any meal. In this blog, we will help you master the art of vegetable parathas to amaze your taste buds and health and brighten up your dining table. You can opt for chopped vegetable delivery online in Bangalore to save yourself from chopping troubles.

The Basics of Vegetable Parathas

The traditional way of making a vegetable paratha consists of whole-wheat flour, however, you can also use millet or chickpea flour for additional nutrients and flavors. You need to prepare a soft dough for a good vegetable paratha.

You can make vegetable paratha with any vegetable you like such as potato, onion, carrots, spinach, peas, and more. You can either create a mixed veg paratha using all these veggies as well for the best taste and texture.

Without proper spices, the parathas are going to taste bland. You can add common spices such as salt, cumin, coriander, turmeric, chili powder, and garam masala. You can create flavors according to your taste buds.

However, vegetable chopping can be the biggest task while making vegetable paratha, so you can opt for fresh-cut vegetable delivery online to ease up your task.

Techniques for Perfect Parathas

To make a perfect paratha, you need to make small dough balls, flatten them in a circle, fill the vegetable filling in the center, carefully seal the edges, and flatten again until it starts spilling.

Heat a griddle or non-stick pan to cook the paratha. You can use ghee or oil on both sides until it looks golden brown. You can use a spatula to press it to ensure even cooking.

Follow a similar process with the other side too until it gets golden brown. You can brush it up with ghee for additional richness.

Adding a Twist

You can always experiment with the filling of the paratha as it will taste good with everything. You can mix and match different vegetable combos, spices, and herbs to provide different tastes every time.

You can always add cheese and paneer to your paratha for richness and creaminess. Putting paneer in a paratha can also be healthy as it has protein in it.

Though paratha tastes good on its own, however, if you incorporate it with sides like green chutney, mint chutney, yogurt, raita, or pickle, parathas can taste better than ever.

You can always opt for fresh vegetable delivery in Bangalore to save yourself time and trouble.

Tips for Success

A few additional tips that you should follow to make extremely delicious parathas-

Always knead your dough soft and pliable for making soft rotis. You should always cook parathas on medium heat for even cooking, and lastly, keep practicing until you perfect the art of paratha making.

Parathas for Everyday Health!

Parathas are not just a common meal; it is an art where you can experiment with flavors. With the right technique and ingredients, you can cook delicious parathas every day. It does not have to be the same every day as you can experiment with different vegetable fillings to make paratha more colorful and healthy. Incorporating paneer, curd, and other items can add an extra pinch of taste and nutrients, making paratha a complete meal. Order from online cut vegetable delivery in Bangalore to buy fresh veggies for your parathas.

[your-local-simp-writers]

Nanami Kento x Fem!Baker Reader angst MCD :DDD

YES! STOP THIS IS SUCH A CUTE PARING RAAA!!!! If you haven't gotten to know who we are don't be shy here is our "༺☆༻ Introduction ༺☆༻"

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Recipe for Connection

Word Count: 968

Warnings: None

Nanami Kento x Fem!Baker!Reader ︶꒦꒷♡꒷꒦︶︶꒦꒷♡꒷꒦︶︶꒦꒷♡꒷꒦︶︶꒦꒷♡꒷꒦︶

The bakery was a haven of warmth and the sweet aroma of baked goods, a stark contrast to the cold precision of Nanami’s usual world. The kitchen, usually a place of creative joy, had transformed into an arena where two very different disciplines clashed.

“You’re doing it all wrong,” Nanami’s voice cut through the air, sharp as the knives that lay forgotten on the counter. “God, could you stir any slower?”

You paused, spoon mid-stir in the thick batter, and raised an eyebrow at him. “You try this then!” The challenge was clear in your voice, a dare for him to step into your world.

Nanami accepted the spoon with a skeptical look, his movements meticulous and calculated. To your chagrin, he stirred the mixture with a finesse that belied his inexperience. You watched, torn between annoyance at his smug expression and a begrudging respect for his adaptability.

The kitchen was alive with the sounds of your culinary battle—the sizzle of the pan, the clink of utensils, and the occasional frustrated sigh from Nanami as he encountered yet another baking enigma. The tension was palpable, a tangible thing that danced between you and threatened to explode.

Then, amidst the chaos, Nanami’s composure slipped. A hiss of pain as he touched the hot pan, and you were at his side in an instant, your concern washing over the irritation of moments before. “Here, let me see,” you murmured, running his finger under cool water, the domesticity of the act softening the edges of your earlier spat.

“Did you wash those?” you asked, nodding towards the vegetables he’d been about to chop.

“…Of course,” he lied, and you rolled your eyes at the transparent falsehood, a smile tugging at your lips despite the situation.

The kitchen was a cozy mess, flour dusting the countertops and a myriad of utensils scattered about. The soft light from the overhead lamps bathed the room in a warm glow, contrasting sharply with the biting chill that seeped in through the cracks of the old windows. The clash of your personalities echoed in the clatter of dishes and the frustrated huffs of breath, yet there was a strange harmony to it all—a dance of opposites finding a rhythm.

Nanami’s usually immaculate appearance was slightly disheveled, a streak of flour on his cheek, and his sleeves rolled up to reveal the strong lines of his forearms. You couldn’t help but steal glances, appreciating the rare sight of him out of his element, struggling yet determined. 

“You know, you don’t have to do this,” you said softly, a moment of genuine connection breaking through the tension. “I know you’re busy.”

“I wanted to,” he replied, his tone softer than before. “I wanted to see what your world is like.”

A truce seemed to settle between you as you worked together, your movements more in sync. You offered a spoonful of the sauce to his lips, a gesture meant to be sweet, a bridge over troubled waters. But the universe had other plans, and the sauce was scalding, the heat of it a mirror to the heat of the moment. You both winced, and laughter bubbled up, breaking the tension.

Halfway through the ordeal, you caught Nanami with his phone out, a guilty look on his face as he placed an order for delivery. “You’re serious? We’re working our asses off here and you ordered chicken,” you couldn’t help but laugh, the absurdity of it all too much.

“We had a rough start, okay? I thought we would have given up by now,” he said, and you shook your head, amused and a little bit impressed by his foresight.

The meal, somehow, came together—a testament to your combined efforts. You set the table with mismatched plates and utensils, the casual setting a stark contrast to Nanami’s usual meticulous nature. As you both sat down to eat, the silence was filled with an unspoken understanding, a mutual respect forged in the fires of the kitchen.

“So we agree we’re not attempting this again, right?” you said, leaning back in your chair, exhaustion seeping into your bones.

“Not for a long while,” Nanami agreed, and there was a comfort in that shared decision, a silent acknowledgment of the day’s trials and tribulations.

The cleanup was a dance, a choreography of two people moving in sync, finding fun in the mundane. The kitchen, once a battlefield, was now a stage, and you both played your parts with a joy that was infectious. The clink of dishes being washed and the hum of the kitchen appliances became a symphony of domesticity, a song of two hearts finding a rhythm.

But the next day, the laughter was gone, replaced by groans of discomfort as you both lay in bed, victims of your own culinary hubris. Food poisoning was the final, cruel punchline to the joke that had been the previous day’s cooking attempt.

Yet, even as you both suffered, there was a camaraderie in the shared misery, a bond forged in the fires of the kitchen and cemented in the aftermath. It was a day of rest, of recovery, and of silent promises to stick to what you knew best—baking for you, and for Nanami, well, anything but cooking.

As you lay there, the remnants of your culinary misadventure fading into the background, you turned to Nanami, a mischievous glint in your eye. “Next time, you’re staying out of my kitchen.”

He chuckled, his hand finding yours under the covers. “Deal. But I expect some baked goods as compensation.”

“Always,” you replied, the warmth of his touch a comfort against the lingering discomfort. The trials of the kitchen had tested your patience and your partnership, but in the end, it had brought you closer, the shared experience a testament to your growing bond.

[violetarks]

track 33: la la land

“delivery…?”

you blink at the doorway, where porco holds two bags of ingredients and a wine bottle under his arm. “please don’t ever try that line ever again on me.”

“my bad,” he chuckles as you let him inside, “nice place. i didn’t think you were the gate kinda’ person.”

“levi made sure we all had a place with one after jean’s house got broken into by a crazy fan,” you reply as you lead him to the kitchen. you help him put the ingredients away in separate places and take out two wine glasses. “so, how’ve you been? you’re a lot nicer since the first time i saw you.”

“i think me driving you around town getting jean drumsticks was a good start,” porco tells you. he pours you a glass of wine. “i just, uh… was a bit worried about you during your tour.”

you take out the chopping board and a knife as you listen to him. “oh, thank you, porco, really. i appreciate it,” you hum out, “by the way, what are we making?”

“i actually have no idea,” he mumbles back to you, “i just bought some random things. i saw some pasta thing online.”

you smile at him with upturned brows. “no plan, huh? c’mon, porco, you plan a date and can’t be bothered picking something out?” you joke along with him as you hand him an apron. you tie one on yourself and wait for him to do so as well.

“okay, well, i—i’m not a chef, so i didn’t know,” he grumbles out with knitted brows, “you got somethin’ in mind?”

“yes, everyone knows how to make a simple pasta and protein,” you chuckle back as you turn on your speakers to play some music, “can you dice onion, please? be careful.”

“okay, i’m not some—”

“don’t swing that knife around, porco!” you step back and reprimand. he puts it down on the chopping board sheepishly. “y’know what, i’ll chop everything and you can just, uh… provide support.”

he sits back against the kitchen bench with a pout as you cut the vegetables. he watches you though, a bit happy that you were acting as normal as you could. porco crosses his arms over his chest as he listens to the music. you seemed calm.

when you begin to cook the garlic and onion on the pan and stir with a wooden spoon, you freeze up in your spot when you feel porco’s hands on your waist. you lose your train of thought and mumble off into nothing as he steps forward.

“you okay?” he asks you against your ear. his chin rests on your shoulder and he can feel you shiver. “you were saying something?”

“i… the, uh, the tour went really well,” you swallow your nerves before you put in the tomato paste, “fans really liked it and we, um, we had plenty of encores. i ended up—your hands are…”

they’re planted on your hips tightly. you can feel how his fingers dance across the apron, his chest pressed gently against your back.

“hm?” he asks, “is this alright?”

“y’know, i would’ve head butted you if you tried this back at the jaeger’s holiday house,” you state as you stir the pan, “you’re lucky.”

“yeah?” he hums, “you like me now?”

you don’t respond to that; instead, you point to the fridge. “can you pass me the heavy cream?”

he lets out a short sigh before he pulls away from you. but you shift a little as porco keeps a finger looped in your apron strap. he opens the fridge with one hand and uses his knee to block the fridge door as he reaches for the cream.

“are you serious right now?” you let out a laugh as he sinks back next to you, “thanks.”

“you’re welcome,” he replies as he looks down, “i wanted to apologise for everything, by the way. i… pretty much made all this drama happen between us. put you in a pretty shitty position.”

you stare at him wildly before you shake your head. “it’s okay, porco. i mean, every celebrity’s gotta’ deal with something. that, for me, is you. i’m sorry too, i can be pretty childish.”

“that’s for sure,” you jab his shoulder at that. he rubs his arm as he smiles. “so, what will happen between us?”

you glance at him as he opens up the cream. “well, we can’t go public yet, obviously. i’m fine with us just seeing each other in private, if that’s okay. or hiding our faces when we meet up.”

“that sounds good,” he tells you as he leans against the marble bench, “we’ll be extra careful.”

“of course,” you hum back, “you were never a three, by the way. i just said that to piss you off.”

“what about that other drummer? is he still your favourite?” porco questions with a tilt of his head.

“yes, i like the tricks he does with the drumsticks—”

“you’re such an asshole,” he scoffs as he drags you closer to him with one hand on your hip. he watches you smile at him before he’s leaning over and pressing a gentle kiss to your cheek. “let’s just start over.”

you return the kiss to his cheek before going back to cooking. “alright. but if you bug me about my stage presence again i will kick you out of my house.”

his laughter fills the air as you two move about in the kitchen.

track 32 | track list | track 34

anime: attack on titan

character: porco galliard (band! au)

summary: y/n, the bassist of the band 'paradís', finds herself in middle of a 'publicity stunt' with none other than a rival band's drummer. porco, the mentioned member of 'marley', doesn't care about her at all. but they can only ignore each other for so long.

taglist: @makimakimi @hanmascult @ally22042000 @rozewayne2005 @keithandlevi-ontheroof @qaahnarin @queen-flower @id-rather-be-an-outsider @onlylowercase @tonysttank @a-little-pebbl @hannahalanib1 @moonshineandclearskies @aqueerincrisis @tati-the-fangirl @cheesechopchive-blog @hermaeusmorax

[darth-mortem]

Another one small text from my English lessons.

Ghost helps Soap cook dinner. 501 words.

“I hate it!” Soap said, looking at the store shelves.

“What do you hate, Johnny?” Ghost asked. “Vegetables?”

“Cooking!” He answered and rolled his eyes. “But aye, vegetables too.”

Ghost sighed. The undercover mission of 141 seemed easy until it was time to distribute household duties. The unit had to live in one flat with two bedrooms, to keep eye on the target and to organize the normal life. Captain Price drew up a schedule for cleaning, washing and cooking, that the soldiers had to follow. Soap has no problems with all of this except for the last one. It turned out that he absolutely doesn’t know how to cook. He almost started a fire during his last shift in the kitchen, so Price ordered Ghost to help Soap with this.

“I dunno why we can’t just order food delivery!” Soap said, staring at the broccoli with hatred.

“Cause we don’t have such a big budget.” Ghost shrugged. “It doesn’t have to be something complicated, just nutritious and not disgusting. And without fire if it’s possible.”

“Will ye help me?” Johnny asked, made puppy eyes.

“Of course I will.” Ghost answered.

They bought chicken breasts, mushrooms, potato and cheese. Johnny also took a pack of six cans of beer. Then they got into their car and drove home.

“Well,” Ghost said when they were at home. “Go wash your hands, Johnny, and start peeling fucking potato and mushrooms. Then I want you grating cheese. Roger?”

“Aye, Lt.” Soap answered automatically and pouted. “And what the fuck will you do, Si?”

“I’ll fry the bloody chicken chops.” Simon said and took off his balaclava, because there was no one at home apart from him and Soap.

Simon cut the chicken breasts, beat the slices with a meat mallet, stirred eggs with mixer and poured flour into the bowl. Meanwhile Johnny peeled the potatoes and cut his finger.

“I’m broken and can’t continue this fucking mission.” He declared and showed his injury.

Ghost brought him a band-aid silently and covered the cut. Soap sighed, took the knife and started cutting mushrooms and potatoes. Then he grated cheese and put all of this on a baking sheet.

“Did you forget to add salt and pepper?” Simon asked, started to fry chops in batter.

“Oh, fuck ye!” Johnny shouted and started looking for spices in the kitchen lockers.

“It’s good,” Price said when he and Gaz came back from their duty and sat to eat. “But why are the potatoes burnt?”

“Ghost dinnae said that the bloody sheet should be greased with oil.” Soap answered offended.

“Well, burnt potatoes are better then burnt kitchen.” Gaz laughed.

“I hate you so much, guys!” Soap said and pouted. “We bought beer, but you two won’t get it!”

“Hey, don’t be an asshole!” Kyle exclaimed furiously. “The chops are very tasty!”

“Thank you, Garrik,” Ghost answered calmly. “I cooked them.”

Johnny was even more offended, but then started laughing with Gaz and brought beer from the fridge.

[nkirukaj]

Our Renaissance

Pairing: Human!Alastor x Fem! OC (Human!Voe)

Warnings: Swearing; 1920s Slang

Genre: Slight Angst (& Humor!)

Word Count: 1.8K

Voe and Alastor are lying on the grass in the bayou of the latter’s room, staring at the man-made stars above. Voe sighs and smiles warmly, Alastor’s eyes dart towards her.

“What is on your mind, my dear?”

“Oh, it’s nothing, it’s just my silly brain wandering”

“Do tell, I love to hear what your mind can do.” He leans on his arm and stares down at her with a smirk

She rolls her eyes “I was just staring at these stars and wondering if this is what real stars in New Orleans look like.”

Alastor tsks “Oh no, absolutely not. I couldn’t capture the beauty of the Louisiana night sky no matter how hard I tried.”

She looks up at him “I figured. But then, after I thought about how I’d never been there, and thought about what it would have been like if I had ever gone to New Orleans. Then I wondered what it would have been like if we’d met each other when we were alive.”

“We are from two different periods my dear, that would not be possible.”

“I know, but I just wonder, what if we weren’t? Like, what if I was around in the 20s while you were still in your prime? I wonder how you looked then.” She reaches up and caresses his face

Alastor grins at his partner “Oh I was quite the lady killer.” He said, his tone full of arrogance 

“In more ways than one,” Voe offered, and they both laughed to their heart’s content.

______________________________

The year is 1919.

“Alastor!”

The hunting grounds he had become so familiar with were just the right distance from his home. Far enough that no one would think of him here, and close enough that he could always hear his mother’s call. Alastor decided there was enough dirt over the hole and started returning. He left the shovel out back and entered the house, anxious to know what it was his mother needed. He entered through the back way, pretending he was there the entire time. He entered the kitchen, his mother’s back to him

“Alastor! Alas- Oh! There you are!” She caresses her son’s face “Please try to come when I first call you alright? I get worried,”

“Of course Maman,” he gives her a tiny smile

She turns her back to him and he walks around to face him “I just wanted to tell ya that I’ll be out ’til dark so please don’t wait up for me. Mr. and Mrs. Hebert want a whole lotta suits and dresses for the entire family tonight. Cook yourself some dinner and please finish that yardwork today, Mr. Doucet wants them delivered first thing in the morning.”

He nods, leaning on the table “Which flowers did his wife order again?”

“The lobelias,” she answers while slipping on a jacket “But only the white ones,” she pulls her purse over her shoulder “Have them cut, trimmed, and potted before I get home because I know you’ll forget if you don’t and it would be really helpful if I didn’t have to do it myself, okay?” She kisses his forehead

“Okay,” 

“Have a good night sweetheart! Be safe!” and out the door she was

Alastor looks through the kitchen cabinets to see what he would be able to cook for himself as well as for his mother to eat when she got home. Perhaps he could treat her to a dessert as well? If he could find the right ingredients. His mother was a huge fan of Bananas Foster, but never splurged on ice cream for herself. Alastor cut up meat and vegetables as he thought of all the tips he had been collecting from the deliveries he’d made with the intent of using them to buy something special for his mother. Nothing big, since he knew she wouldn’t ever allow him to spend that much money on her, but maybe some ice cream just to make her favorite dessert. As he mixed the chopped foods and let them cook on the stove, he retrieved the tips from under his clothes in his drawer. 

A carton of ice cream was 20¢ and when he went to count the coins he’d collected, he came up with only 10. He could go and buy his mother a banana split, but he wanted to make this gift with his own hands. The anger made him warm inside, the heat rising from his fingers and spreading throughout his body, all the way to the top of his head and the tips of his toes. He spins around and flings the useless change around his tiny bedroom, hearing the coins clatter on the floor. Leaning on his dresser, the scent of burned food hits his nose and he looks up in shock and worry.

His fear is recognized when he gets back down the stairs, the food he had so carefully prepared had burned on the stove, which meant that neither he nor his mother would be eating tonight, seeing as they would be getting paid tomorrow morning and only then would they be able to buy more groceries. Alastor angrily throws out the burned dinner and slams himself down in one of the kitchen chairs dramatically, hearing the wood creak. He held his head in his hands, silently waiting for the stove to cool down. Was it so wrong to want the luxuries that he so often saw people like the ones they sold to take for granted?

Alastor enjoyed potting plants, he’d roll up his sleeves and get caught up in the dirt, which may have been why he was so good at digging holes. It helped that he took an interest in the flowers they grew. Lobelias, Magnolias, Irises, Azaleas and much more. It may not have seemed like the most ‘manly’ way to spend one’s time but his mother took her time to teach him, so Alastor couldn’t care less. Getting covered in the dirt made him feel like he was doing something like he was earning his way. 

20 white lobelias cut, trimmed, and potted, ready to be delivered. Alastor wiped the sweat off of his forehead, some of the dirt on his forearm wiping onto his face. He stood to look at his work before bending to pick them up and carry them inside. Out of the corner of his eye, he spots a young lady in the street. She’s bent over, picking up a pocket watch. When she stands she continues examining the watch, a trolley approaching her fast. He didn’t know if she was deaf or dumb but she wasn’t moving. It’s as if she had no idea that vehicles drove on the road, Alastor looks back and forth between the woman and the flowers. he rushes toward her.

He launched forward, grabbing her wrist, yanking her out of the street, and holding her waist to keep her stable. Her hat had fallen over her face, but he could still see the plump lips under it.

“What were you thinking?”

She breathes out through her mouth “Who are you, my father?”

“I believe thanks are in order,” 

She tilts her head up “I suppose they are,” her voice smooth and soft “Thank you,” she says, clear that she didn’t want to

He lets go of her waist, letting her hands free to readjust herself. Alastor clears his throat, looking down at the girl’s expensive and neat clothes.

“Alastor, pleasure to be meeting you.” His breath was stolen as he gazed at the girl before him “Quite a pleasure.” he sticks his hand out

“Vera,” she responded, lifting her hat with her other hand while looking upwards at the man who saved her “Vera Bates.” she takes and shakes it. She looks down, seeing dirt spots on her arms and dress, she does her best to dust them off.

“What brings you to this area, bunny?” Alastor questions

She continues dusting herself off “How do you know I’m not from here?”

Alastor crosses his arms “To pale kreyol?” he raises his eyebrow smirking

“What?”

“Exactly,”

She scoffs “You did not know that when you forcibly yanked me out of the street,” she huffs

“Well, now I do,”

She rolls her eyes “If we all stuck to English, I could fit in,”

“That’s a load of applesauce,” he rolls his eyes

“Why?” She looks somewhat offended

“Look at how you’re dressed, does that look like you belong here?” he pulls on her sleeve “Around here we ain’t afraid to get dirty,”

Vera crosses her arms “Fine, I’m visiting with my family and I might have wandered a bit, are you happy?”

Alastor looks the girl up and down, his tongue rolling over his teeth “Where you from?”

“New York City,” she puffs out her chest, “The city that never sleeps,”

“And I bet you’re proud of that aren’t you?”

She looks taken aback “Of course I am! New York is so advanced! It has the skyline, Central Park, amazing food, music, and of course…Broadway,” her eyes sparkle “It’s practically the cultural center of the world,”

He scoffs “I beg to differ, we have much better food and music. Plus we got theaters too,”

“But not Broadway,”

“What does it matter?

“I want to be an actress!”

Alastor sniggers at the thought, barely able to contain his amusement

“What on Earth is so funny?”

  “Doll please, everyone knows that radio is the future,”

She tilts her head to the side “Radio?” she scrunches her brows “Well I have nothing against radio, but it has nothing on the stage,”

“The stage is entertaining. But radio is life-changing.”

“You can’t even see people on the radio! The stage can take you to a different world!”

He leans down “So can radio. And being on the radio isn’t a useless pipe dream,” 

“At least there already is someone like me on the movie screens. You think they would let a boy like you on the radio?” Her words are filled with venom, and it’s enough to immediately stop Alastor’s chortling.

“And what exactly is a boy like me?” he leans forward

“You’re weak!” she spits at him “You’re thin, like you haven’t eaten a day in your life, and you hardly sound like a man at all. Nobody wants to hear some little sissy yappin’ on the radio!” she grins as she knows that her hurtful comments have landed

“Says the girl who doesn’t know that cars drive on the road,”

“Oh dry up, ya rag-a-muffin!”

“You’re on my property, dollface! So get a wiggle on! Wearing your glad rags in the middle of the week,”

“These are my regular clothes!” She tosses over her shoulder and storms away from him

“Whatever you say doll,” he calls after her. She flips him the bird as she walks off. He pretends to be offended, “Oooh, rude doll.”

[d011zk1ll]

I'll admit I don't know much about aidlyn, but maybe (in an au away from, uh.. whatever SBG has going on) you could write about them watching a movie or cooking? I enjoy little domestic scenes like that. maybe they're cuddled up on a couch watching a terrible movie one of them rented, or teaching the other how to cook a favorite dish, etc etc etc.

i ask for you forgiveness its midnight this ended up tacky but erm yes oui oui

Aidelyn fluff :3

The kitchen was warm, and in all honesty cramped. Each time Ashlyn needed to reach the stove, she’d end up brushing past him, arm against arm. It wasn’t that there wasn’t enough space, she still had some room- more so the comfort of human contact. The simple things in life, really. “Have you grated the carrots yet, Aiden?” She asked, stirring the sauce with a wooden spoon, and sifting the spices in. “We need those, the onions and the tomatoes added in soon or the sauce will end up evaporating.” 

Aiden didn’t look up from his chopping board, shifting the pile of carrots to one side and beginning to chop the onion. “If you’re in the spaghetti, how are you supposed to help me cook?” 

His face was never straight, always in a grin that could melt anyone's sharp corners, like fire next to ice; still, it didn’t waver as he retorted with a soft tone. 

“If this pan wasn’t scalding, I'd hit you in the back of the head. You know that, right?” 

“Oh,” He laughed, “I am well aware. I’m so screwed when there’s no longer a fire hazard.” 

She grumbled under her breath, eliciting nothing less than a chuckle from Aiden as he finished with the onion, bringing the chopping board over to the stove. “Special delivery, Ash.” They were so close to each other, she could feel the way his body shifted as he brushed the vegetables into the sauce, the dressing creating a small plop sound as they fell in. Ashlyn could feel his breath, solid and a simple comfort that felt no less than necessary for her wellbeing and life. 

“Should I drain the pasta?” He broke the silence, not out of want, but out of need- Ashlyn could hear the water begin to bubble too much. “Yeah, the sauce just needs to be stirred and we can go watch that shitty movie you rented, what was it? Quid Game?” She grimaced, flicking her wrist to turn the stove off. “That sounds like an absolutely horrible rip off.” 

“It sounds brilliant, you just lack a sense of humour,” Aiden countered, a spike of joy evident in his tone. “I think it's going to be comedy gold.” He finished, bringing bowls with noodles over and reaching for the ladle.

Ashlyn sounded unamused,“If you say so.”

The metal scoop brushed against the bottom of the pot, red broth and mince scooped into the ladle as she poured it onto the noodles, doing the same for his bowl.

He had a habit of taking the chipped ones, and leaving the ones without the porcelain exposed to her; aware of how it made her uncomfortable.

“Come on then,” she turned for the door, Aiden batting a braid with the back of his hand like he always did. “We can put the leftovers into tupperware when you inevitably get bored after ten minutes.”

[spooniechef]

Slow Cooker Beef Pot Roast (0-1 spoon)

I know it's been about half-past forever. Between work and some home issues, I haven't really had the spoons for much. But that's kind of perfect because it means that I do have things to say in this particular bit of journal. Yes, mostly I was doing my tried-and-true regular recipes, but this month I decided to further explore the possibilities of my multicooker (Instant Pot kind of thing but without the brand name recognition). The pressure cooker function is great if you want soup or stew, but this month, I tried the slow cooking function. Honestly, this was a bit of a revelation for me, for reasons I'll go into in a bit more detail once I'm done with the recipe. It's all going to be approximates, mind you - but the best recipes generally are.

So, here's what you'll need

1 good-sized chunk of beef (see notes; somewhere in the 2-3lb range)

1 onion, quartered

3 cups of chopped root vegetables (carrots, parsnips, turnips)

Whole garlic cloves (to taste)

2-3 cups beef stock

1 cup red wine

2 bay leaves

Other herbs and spices to taste (see notes)

Here's what you do:

Sear the outside of the beef - you can use the browning function on your multicooker to do that, but doing it on the stove is quicker

Add the onion, root vegetables, garlic, bay leaves, and other herbs to the multicooker

Place the beef on top of the vegetables; add liquid

Cover and cook on low setting for 6-8 hours

Take out the beef to let it rest for 20 minutes

If you want gravy, strain the remaining liquid into a small saucepan, simmer on medium heat to reduce and gradually stir in maybe 1 tbsp cornstarch to thicken.

FEAST

A few notes:

The best thing about the slow cooker is that you can put everything together the night before. While you're putting together one night's dinner, you can just chop a couple of extra veg, spend another five minutes or so searing the meat, then put everything together in the inner pot of your multicooker and leave it covered in the fridge overnight. Just take it out of the fridge 20 minutes or so before you start cooking it.

The other good thing is that this literally needs nothing else done with it. No watching, no stirring, no nothing. You can switch on your multicooker or even set it to switch itself on at the appropriate time, go to work or whatever, and not only come home with dinner sorted, but you will come home with your whole home smelling wonderful. Then, all you have to do is make gravy if you want to.

Yet another good thing about the slow cooker is that it encourages use of the tougher, and generally cheaper, cuts of meat. The slow cooking breaks it down very well - as an example, I used silverside in mine (nearest to the rump, generally known as a drier and tougher cut) and when it was done and properly rested, it was so tender it fell apart when I so much as tried to get the binding string off. So you get several days' worth of lovely meals at a halfway reasonable price.

As to the beef stock and red wine, looking over several slow cooker beef recipes has led me to believe that as long as there's a certain amount of liquid in there for your beef to soak up, you're good. So experiment with whatever liquids, herbs and spices you want. Honestly, next time I'm going for less beef stock and a half-cup of A1.

I'm going to be doing other things with the slow cooker, so I promise there will be more to watch on this space. If nothing else, I'm having a vegetarian friend of mine over to dinner next month and I figure I should share recipes for things like the planned butternut squash risotto and the no-bake gingerbread cheesecake. Also, Sunday will see me take delivery of a small air fryer, which I feel like will very much improve my quality of life and certainly inspire me to new heights of cookery. And hey, running one of those is cheaper than heating up a single portion of tater tots in the oven.

So ... not dead, just reeeeeeeeeally lacking in spoons. But now I've found some ways to save a few, and this is as good a place as any to spend them.