#especially pasta with creamy sauce

[hellodahliah]

what's your favorite food? ^^

pasta 🍝

[guppybibi]

ᯓᡣ𐭩 | How does the TF141 love? (as food!)

John Price loves like a plate of carbonara 𓐐

It's one of the most beloved Italian pasta dishes out there, just like how he loves you the most! It's a simple dish yet it's hard to perfect, but you learn not to make the same mistakes afterwards. That's what's so nice about it, it isn't perfect. It never is, but even that is something to be cherished. Some of the choices made are questionable to say the least but he doesn't question them any further, he was one of your choices after all. (i have no idea how this connects to carbonara but do u see my vision, the choices are like ingredients..) Spaghetti is the most common pasta to be used in carbonara, outshining the less frequently used rigatoni & bucatini. And who can blame them? It's a timeless classic, a staple. (Just like you two;3) Spaghetti was notably long as well before shorter lengths gained some popularity! You know what else is long? Your prosperous relationship together! (Let's not talk about the creamy sauce.)

Simon Riley loves like a box of chocolates 🍫

It's assorted too! White, milk, dark, name it all! It's no problem-o! It's a surprise in every bite, or swallow but please chew your food. It's a whole new experience every time, it's thrilling. It could be filled with delectable chocolatey sauce, oozing out once you take the first bite! It's sweetness overload, reminding you of the sweet moments you and him have together. Then, the next chocolate has..nuts! Yum, these are a teensy weensy harder to chew especially if you have the teeth of a grandma..Like how it was just a little bit hard to get Simon to open up, to let you in. But sometimes the chocolates disappoint and have a hollow inside :C

John MacTavish loves like a bucket of popcorn🍿

Corn was domesticated in Mexico, a memorable place for Johnny to say the least. A lot happened there..During the early years, it was popped by hand but as we can see now it's popped by machines. How is that significant? Well, it shows how your relationship evolves. It's being nurtured like a little baby by the two of you after all! It gets more efficient, the both of you doing your own part in smoothing the bumps along the road. It's often eaten at movie theaters and sporting events, and what do those places have in common with this man? One word, fun! (This or he could also be pop rocks to be honest idk)

Kyle Garrick loves like a bowl of strawberries 🍓

A strawberry flower averages 5-7 petals according to a website, if you do the 'he loves me, he loves me not' game–you'll always land on the love one! (He purposely takes out the ones with 6 petals, or he plucks them off individually.) Or if he doesn't have time to do all of that, you guys resort to 'he loves me, he loves me lots' because that's just the wholehearted truth! Though strawberries don't always taste as good as they seem, no? Especially if they're out of season, yuck! Again, there's always some sour ones in the batch, but it's no use crying about it. So, you and him just fix it!

[sporadicthingcollection]

The Unskinny Bop (Buggy the Clown x F!Reader)

Summary: You're a really good cook and that's most of the problem. The rest of it is that he's too weak-willed to resist a treat right in front of him. Pairing: Buggy the Clown x F!Reader Rating: 🌶 Explicit 🌶 Word Count: ~6.1k Warnings: Body insecurity (male and female), cunnilingus, masturbation, PiV sex A/N: Dad Bod Buggy my beloved

---

She's playing all night And the music's all right Mama's got a squeeze box And Daddy never sleeps at night

---

It's his own damn fault, really.

He's the one who charmed the pretty diner cook — that’d be you — into joining his crew. It was an easy sell. You get off of the little podunk island you’re stuck on and he gets those delicious little puffy pastry things every morning.

What he didn’t expect was how well you made everything else. He's had to let his pants out three times in two months because of it.

Fluffy pancakes, perfectly slung hash, and a pie-looking thing with eggs and vegetables and cheese you called a “keesh” for breakfast. Sandwiches stuffed with veggies and meat, piles of pasta tossed in rich sauce, and thick slabs of juicy steak for dinner. Not to mention the mountains of snacks and treats in between.

He came to realize that food is a key aspect of your personality. It's just what you do. A dog chases its tail, Richie pushes things off of tables, and you flit around the deck like a pastry pixie, abducting people into the galley for taste-testing. 

Like right now.

His only warning that you're coming is a chirped “Captain!” before he's yanked through the door. He doesn't even have time to react before you've shoved a spoonful of something into his mouth.

He's not surprised. You do it to everyone who walks in. Food is how you show affection.

“Whaddya think?” you ask.

He swallows it too quickly to make a judgment, but it's sweet and that's all he needs to know. “Tasty.”

Every time you smile, he swears a flashbulb goes off somewhere. “Good,” you say. “It'll be even better tomorrow.”

He doesn't even bother to hide the whine. “What?”

“They're icebox pies, silly goose,” you say. “You gotta let ‘em chill.”

Another thing about you is that you're a tease. Form-fitting blouses done up just a button too short and your hair pulled back to show off your soft shoulders. A sweet little wink and a touch of the shoulder as you place a plate in front of him. And now feeding him something delicious only to tell him he has to wait until tomorrow to have more.

Your fingers snapping in front of his face jolt him back to the present. “Huh?”

“I asked if you wanted to lick the spoon,” you say.

Does he wanna lick the spoon? What kind of question is that? He plucks it from your hands. “Is the sky blue? Do bears shit in the woods? Am I the captain?”

You roll your eyes, but you smile. “Gonna stick these in the big cooler and I'll be right back for the other,” you say.

Carefully, you pick up two of the three foil-covered pie tins resting on the counter and turn on your heel.

He watches you closely as you round the corner and out of sight. Such a nice soft ass you've got. He desperately wants to grab it, but the one time you got goosed, you slugged the guy so hard he was out cold for the rest of the day.

Something pink, creamy, and flecked with seeds coats the wooden spoon. He drags his tongue along the back of it and--

Oh. Oh, that is good.

His taste buds scream in ecstasy. The slightest little moan escapes his lips. For the briefest of moments, he thinks it's better than sex and his cock twitches, but he regains his sense of self before going completely mad.

He licks and licks and licks until every little drop of pink, sweet, creamy filling is gone.

Frustration bubbles in his chest. Waiting all night for this is gonna suck. Especially since you probably won't be whipping it out for breakfast.

He is captain, though. He could order you to give it to him. But you'd almost certainly laugh in his face and he really, really doesn't want that.

The shimmer of foil catches his eye. The third pie sits on the counter. Untouched. Uneaten. Mocking him in its creamy deliciousness.

He looks around. You're nowhere to be seen.

...maybe just a little bit.

He scrapes barely half a spoonful from the top. Not enough to be noticeable, just enough to satisfy his sweet tooth.

Mmm. Smooth. Thick. Sweet. Fruity. Delicious.

...a little bit more can't hurt. Then he can wait until tomorrow.

He gets a piece of the fruit itself this time and the squirt of juice on his tongue is enough to make him spoon up another dollop. And then another. And then another.

This is why your pants are so tight, his inner monologue chides. This is why you need a new belt. This is why you wear that thing around your waist. Goddamn hedonist.

They're not that tight, he retorts. And they wouldn't be at all if you weren't such a damn good cook. It's all your fault for putting delicious food in front of him and looking so pretty while doing it.

He turns to lean against the counter, only to stop dead.

You're standing there, eyes wide and brows raised. You point at him, then at the pie tin, then back at him. “Are you... Eating the...?”

“No,” he says quickly. He realizes he's holding the pie tin. “No.”

Something odd glints in your eyes as you approach him. Gingerly, you take the pie and the spoon from his hands. He lets you. You step even closer.

You're so close to him, close enough for him to feel the rise and fall of your breasts. Hell, you're so short compared to him that he can see straight down your shirt.

His heart races. What are you going to do? Throw it out? Throw him out? Punch his lights out? Never speak of this again? 

To his amazement, you do none of those things. Instead, you spoon up a bit more of the pie filling and raise it to his lips. You blink up at him with big doe eyes.

He looks between you and the spoon a few times. This can't be right. You should be furious. He opens his mouth to say something, but it's forgotten as you shove the spoon in his mouth.

Why are strawberries so delicious? Why is he so weak? Why are your breasts so warm and squishy against him?

He swallows it and, as he opens his mouth to breath, you shove another spoonful in. It's just as good the twentieth time.

You offer him another. And another. And another. He accepts them all.

Until he goes to take another and you pull it away. He frowns at you. You pull it back farther and farther. He grabs your wrist and pulls your hand closer. You resist, but he's spent every day of his life trimming sails and hauling cargo.

He gets the spoon into his mouth and claims his prize with a smirk.

That glint in your eyes turns into a blaze. You drop the pie tin and spoon and they hit the floor with a clatter. Pulling your wrist from his grip, you grab him by the cheeks and yank him into a kiss.

He yelps against your lips and you take the opportunity to shove your tongue between them. Licking, lapping, pressing your soft, warm body right up against his.

Only a eunuch could resist this.

He kisses you back with the same fervor, grabbing your ass to lift you up a bit and it's so soft and pliant and perfect that he can't help but dig his fingers in.

Oh, it's everything he dreamed it would be. Your warm lips moving against his, your slick tongue dancing in his mouth, your soft palms gripping his jaw.

You've lapped up all the lingering sweetness in his mouth by the time he runs out of breath. He pushes you away and you whimper, your eyes wide and your shoulders heaving up and down.

Deprived of oxygen, he says something completely, absolutely, utterly brain dead. “Can I touch your tits?”

Instead of slapping him, you nod so hard your updo shakes loose. Curly strands fall in your face.

He blinks. “Wait, really?” You nod harder. “You sure?”

Something in you snaps. He can see it in your eyes. You grab him by the hand and damn near drag him out the door.

A quick trip up the stairs and across the main deck and he's pushing open the door to his quarters. You bustle past him and, once the click of the lock sounds, you grab him by the collar and yank him into another kiss, just as wet and desperate as the last.

He barely has enough time to shuck his coat about you throw him onto the bed, clambering atop him. You're a bit heavier than he expects. Not that he says that to your face, but you’re so light on your feet that he was starting to think you were filled with cotton candy. You're certainly sweet enough.

You yank his hat from his head and toss it aside. His bandana follows and his hair falls around his shoulders.

You suck in a breath. “So pretty.”

He shrugs. “Thanks-- mmph.”

He’s silenced by you standing on your knees to pull his hair out of its pigtails. This requires you to stick your tits in his face and oh my god they're like big marshmallows you smell like cinnamon.

He can't help himself. He wraps his arms around you and pulls you in closer, breathing deeply. So warm, so soft.

You giggle and the vibration makes his face tingle. You pull away to fiddle with your blouse buttons. “Wanna know a secret?” you whisper.

“Is the secret boobs?” Wow, what the hell was that? He needs to stop talking.

Lucky for him, you grin. You open your blouse and a whole lot more than he was expecting spills out. You toss the blouse to the side and plant your hands on your hips. “Va-va-voom.”

He's speechless. Shaken. Struck utterly dumb by the sight before him. All he can do is pull off his gloves and take them in his hands, pushing them, weighing them, squeezing them. There’s just… so much. Round, squishy, bouncy, threatening to surge right out of your lacy bra.

“I am but one man,” he mumbles.

That makes you giggle and that makes them jiggle. Like two sacks of...like a pair of...

...he can't think of a metaphor that isn't unpleasant, so he just sticks his face in there again before something else stupid comes out of his mouth. You laugh even more and it vibrates against his cheeks and his -- that... -- and if God struck him down at this very second he would die a happy man.

You let him linger a moment before throwing your weight forward to push him onto the bed. He whimpers like a kicked puppy as you pull away.

You nibble your lip and knit your brow up as you fumble with his belt. “I showed you mine, now you show me yours.”

He's flattered, but it's the only thing keeping his stomach in check. That can't come off yet.

He takes your hands in his own. “What's the rush, beautiful?” he says. He brings them to his lips, first one, then the other. He gently kisses your knuckles, your palms, your wrists. “This is your show. We got all night.”

You're cute when you huff. You're even cuter when your face screws up into a pout. You yank your hands away and plant them on your soft hips. “Do you have any idea how long I've been waiting for this?” you whine.

That throws him for a loop and a half. You've wanted him too? Someone as clever and cute and talented as you wanted... him? He's not used to that. Not used to that at all.

He's stunned just long enough for you to get his belt open. You move on to his vest straps next, making quick work of those. He sucks his stomach in just as you pull it open.

Your eyes widen, and you break into a grin as they sweep up and down his torso. “Oh, hell-o,” you say, voice breathless.

He's bright red, he just knows it. “Hi,” he replies dumbly. He hopes the strain in his voice isn't too obvious.

You grin even wider. Your fingers ghost up his sides -- thank God it's his feet that are ticklish -- right up to his pecs. You give them a squeeze, not unlike how he palmed your breasts a few moments ago. The slightest of squeaks escapes him.

“I knew you were hiding something good,” you say. You give his nipples a tweak -- he squeaks louder -- and trail your fingers down to his waistband. “Let's see what else you've been keeping from me.”

He knows you're talking about his dick. He panics all the same.

He shoots a hand out to kill the light -- that should buy him some time -- and throws his weight into flipping you over. You squeal as he pins you to the bed and yanks your pants off.

And then he realizes. Your breasts? They're proportional.

Beneath him is the most lovely expanse of body he's ever seen. Soft and warm and squishy and made of convex curves that flow from gentle arms and smooth shoulders right into a pair of plump hips and shapely thighs.

He can't form words. He can't form thoughts. All he can do is stare with his mouth dropped open. What else can you do when you're in the presence of the divine?

And then he sees your face. Your eyes wide and unsure as they dart around the room. Your lips pressed together into a terse line. 

“What?” he asks.

The line scrunches to the side. “I'm bigger than I ought to be, I know,” you say. You sound as if you've said it a thousand times.

He gets mad. He can't help it. It's what he does. “Are you shitting me?”

You flinch a little, though more out of surprise than fear. “N-No, I don't--”

He wants to say so many things. About how this is perfection. About how you are the most gorgeous human being he's ever laid eyes on. About how this is everything he's ever wanted in life. How you're everything and you shouldn't be so damn sheepish.

But he can't get it out. All that comes out is a raspy, rude, “Shut the fuck up.”

You stare at him in shock. And not the fun shock. It's the kind where you're not sure if you've stepped on eggshells or not.

Fuck it. No time for words. He grabs your thighs and pulls you forward, yanking your panties off and sweet holy shit you don't shave down there how could you possibly be any more perfect?

His mouth waters. His cock throbs. He dives in. He drags his tongue up your inner thighs, soft and smooth and sweet as that pie.

“Captain--!” A nip to the tender flesh turns the exclamation into a squeak.

“I said shut up,” he says between kisses.

Finally, you stop talking. You only pant and moan as he shoves his face into your pussy, lapping at your already sopping cunt. Did he do this? Are you this wet because of him?

He can't help it. He stuffs his hand down the front of his pants to fondle himself. Like the desperate bastard he is, his cock’s hard and leaking already.

He grinds against his palm as he gorges himself on you. Licking, sucking, swirling, punctuating with a few nips for good measure. It's all harmonized by the most beautiful sounds he's ever heard flowing from your lips, high-pitched and whiny.

He's not sure how long has passed when you grab his head and push him away. Time flows strangely between your thighs.

You've got a crazed look in your eyes again. “I want you inside me.”

He wants to say something clever, something cool and on brand for him, like it's not time for the finale yet or but my leading lady isn't satisfied.

But that would delay being inside you and he's too addled to think of anything. He jumps to his feet and wriggles out of his trousers and shorts. If he were more aware of himself, he'd be humiliated by just how much he has to shimmy and dance around to get them off his hips, but there's not enough blood in his brain to be self-conscious.

He kicks them away in whatever direction. Something crashes to the floor and he doesn't care. He looks back to your beautiful face--

You're wide-eyed as you look at him. He follows your gaze, right down to his--

In all the excitement, he's not sucking it in anymore.

Now it's his turn to be sheepish. He sucks it in again. But he can't hold it. Too much blood in his cock. He tries again with the same result.

Unfortunately for him, it's drawn your attention even more. Off comes your bra, and you don't take your eyes off his stomach the whole time.

Now he really can't think anymore. They're just so pretty and perfect. You're so pretty and perfect. He doesn't deserve this. This is a hell of a mismatch if ever there was one. You, divinity in the flesh. Him, a fat, dirty old clown.

This is a joke. It has to be. Someone put you up to this and now you're gonna back out and he's gonna let you because you deserve better so he better just rip the bandage off now and--

“Out,” he spits. “Get out.”

You blink at him in shock, then your face hardens. You speak with the firmness of a queen who's sick of her courtiers’ bullshit. “Get over here and get on top of me.”

You're mocking him. You gotta be. There’s no other explanation. “I said--”

You look him in the eyes. Something dangerous glitters there. “Buggy, get the fuck on top of me.”

It comes out at a hoarse yell. “Stop mocking me!”

You spring upwards and, with that wild strength that surprises him every time, you throw him on the bed. It squeaks as he bounces -- actually, that might have come from him.

You've got a look on your face he can only describe as murderous. “I did not wait two months for you to chicken out,” you say. You clamber onto him. “I did not wait two fucking months for you to finally man up and say something only for you to get self-conscious!”

Fear, anger, and arousal battle for control of his body. Arousal wins. You are hot as a griddle when you're mad.

You sit yourself on his belly, just above his cock. It twitches against your ass and he's sure it's made of clouds and he groans.

“Look at me,” you say.

He doesn't. He can't. He doesn't want to see the scorn that's surely in your eyes.

You learn forward and grab his chin, squeezing his cheeks and forcing him to look. Even in the dim light, he can see the sheen of sweat on your face and the rise and fall of your chest as you pant.

“If you want me to leave, I will,” you say, “but you will never get this chance again.”

No. No no no no. He wants you. He wants you so bad. He's never had perfection this close and it's never wanted him as much as you seem to.

“Do you want me to leave?” you ask firmly.

He shakes his head so hard it hurts.

You don't grin. You simply release his chin and lift yourself up. You lower yourself on his cock and, as he watches it disappear, inch by slick inch into your hot, wet pussy, the battle is over.

He doesn't care if this is a trick anymore. He's going to get his.

He grabs your thighs and pulls you down onto him, fingers sinking into the smooth flesh. You gasp as he bottoms out, gripping the swell of his hips. He doesn't care. They're called love handles for a reason.

And then you start to bounce.

It starts in your legs. Pumping your thighs to lift yourself up and drop down onto his cock. The jolt ripples through your whole body, from your thighs to your belly to your breasts.

He's transfixed. So transfixed that he doesn't even notice you grabbing his pecs, squishing and squashing them between your gentle fingers. You tweak his nipples and he damn near howls.

He can't let you have all the fun. He pops his hand off to swirl his fingers around your clit.

But you don't cry out or moan. You start babbling. Something about eating and how hot he is and how much you love that he loves your cooking and it's all interspersed with pleasant-sounding gibberish. But he doesn't hear a word of it. You're too warm and slick and it goes in one ear and it the other.

But the sounds. God, the sounds of him sliding in and out of you. Wet and disgusting and it makes his mouth water and his cock leak and that just makes it wetter--

The slap of skin on skin and wet on wet and his moans and your chattering all mingle into a delicious symphony. 

But it stops all too soon. Your breath hitches and you bend at the waist, singing his name like a songbird, the same little melody over and over. “Buggy, Buggy, Buggy...!”

His name dissolves into little yips and gasps as your cunt flutters around his cock. It's so good. Better than treasure. Better than adrenaline. Better than a full belly after a hard day's work--

He realizes he's not wearing a condom. Fuck. “Where ya want it?” he grunts.

You don't hesitate. “In me,” you say between gasps.

In you? Inside you? Spilling his hot, wet cum into your hot, wet cunt? Your cunt? Soaking it? Seeding it? Making it even messier and sloppier and filling you up so much that--

He almost pops right then and there, but he bites his lip. “Nuh-uh. Where?”

“In me!” you spit.

He whines the most unmanly of whines. He will. He won't. He wants to. He can't. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.

“Captain,” you whimper, “Buggy, please...”

He looks up at you. Your hands on his chest, your breasts heaving with each breath, your little belly rising and falling, your luscious thighs on either side of his hips, your lips dropped open as you pant, your bush surrounding his fingers--

God damn it.

He throws you to the side as he pops like a champagne cork. A few drops end up on you, but most of it splatters onto the underside of his belly, where it's started obeying gravity.

One hand grips the sheets and the other grips something warm and his hips buck and his head swims and his mouth makes utterly pathetic noises. Yes yes yes yes yes yes yes.

He crashes back to earth like a meteor strike. All he can see is white as he flops back onto the mattress, gasping for breath.

He has no idea how long it takes for him to recover. But something soft tickles the knuckles of his detached hand. A shudder racks him as he turns his head towards you.

Post-orgasm haze still clouds your eyes, but they're big and round as a doe’s as you cradle his hand close to his face. You press your lips to his knuckles.

He gives a weak smile. “Hi.”

You giggle. God, he loves that giggle. He wishes he could hear it every day. He'd put it in a sea shell if he could, carry it around in his pocket and press it to his ear whenever he feels lonely. Or spin it into cotton candy. It's certainly light and sweet enough. Or whip it up onto a foam and fold it into batter like he watched you do that one time for cake...

His stomach growls. He needs to stop thinking about food.

You kiss his knuckles again, still smiling so very sweetly. “Are you alright?”

“Fuckin’ amazing,” he mumbles. It's the truth.

Detaching his other hand, he feels around on the floor. There's a towel here somewhere... Unless he threw it on the chair... Or over the folding screen...

He finds it slung over the door of his wardrobe. He offers it to you, but you shake your head. “After you.”

Suit yourself. He mops his belly up as you watch. Shit, this was a big one.

Satisfied, he tosses the towel away. He rolls over to take you in his arms, but he finds nothing. You're standing up, pulling his coat on and closing it around your front.

“Get over here,” he says. “That's an order.”

“I gotta clean up,” you say.

He panics. He can't help it. His voice quivers like a child's. “Don’t leave. Please.”

You give him a kind look that almost makes him cry. “I’ll be right back,” you coo. “I promise.”

He doesn't want to be alone. Not now. Tears prick at his eyes and his lip quivers. But you're out the door before he can stop you.

You're not coming back. He knows it. He disappointed you. How could he not? You're beautiful. You're divine. You're perfect.

And what is he? A fat old clown.

He lays there, shivering in the cold air, too afraid to move. Too aware of his shortcomings. Too aware of every flaw, every defect, every deficiency. His temper. His teeth. His nose. His appetite. His everything.

The door opens. The moonlight frames your silhouette for a moment before you close the door behind you.

He nearly sobs with relief. You don't notice, thankfully, as you shuck his coat.

He launches his arms at you as he sits upright, pulling you into an embrace as he falls back down. He lays you to the side, slipping under your arm and tucking his head in the crook between your chin and chest.

You thread your fingers through his hair. “Don't tell me you thought I wasn't coming back.”

He murmurs something he forgets as soon as it leaves his lips. You're so soft. So warm. So comfortable. And he's so exhausted.

You giggle. You kiss his forehead and slide your fingers through his hair. “Bonwee, sha.”

He has no idea what that means, but you say it with such warmth that it must be something good. He snuggles up close to you.

Rocked by the sea and calmed by your heartbeat, he drifts off.

---

He sleeps well, but he stirs a few times.

The first is when you shift out from under him, mumbling something in a language he can't place. You roll onto your side, your back to him. He doesn't like that at all and pulls you in to be the little spoon. You squeak. It's cute. He doesn't care that his belly presses against your back. 

He stirs again when his arm falls asleep and he rolls onto his side. You follow him this time. You press yourself right up against his back, breasts and belly and thighs squishing against him. You're so warm.

The final time is as the gray light of dawn slips through the windows. He's shaken from a dream and he grumbles.

“I gotta go get started on breakfast,” you whisper. “Just wanted to let you know I wasn't lovin’ and leavin’.”

That's so sweet of you. “You're so sweet,” he mumbles sweetly.

You giggle. “See you in a few hours.”

You kiss the tip of his nose and he's not even upset.

===

You had a lovely night, but you're walking a bit funny and it's making your usual bustling around the galley just difficult enough to be annoying. And the visions of your stark naked captain filling your head are making it even harder.

You're a very simple woman, like your mother before you. You like men. You like food. You like men who like food. You especially like men who like your food.

Captain Buggy's a man. Captain Buggy likes food. And he loves your food, if his constant hovering in the galley is anything to go on. And he loves it a lot and it's showing.

The memory of him lying beneath you, his warm hips against your thighs, his belly wobbling as you bounce atop him, his head thrown back in bliss, surprises you just as you're tossing a flapjack. It slams into the ceiling and stays there.

Your fellow cook, a swarthy fellow going by Bloomer, casts the new ceiling decor an odd look. He turns it on you. “You alright, girl?”

You know what? Screw this. Everyone else can handle breakfast. “I'm gonna go wake up the captain,” you say. “How's he like his coffee?”

Milk and two cubes of sugar, he tells you. You put in cream and three cubes. Man's gotta get his strength back from last night, you tell yourself as you set off across the deck. 

You knock three times on the door. No answer. You knock harder. Still nothing. You take that as a sign he may be dead and enter just in case.

Captain Buggy is, in fact, quite alive, if not also naked. He's in front of the mirror... or his face is, anyways. His body is turned completely around as he examines the reflection of his rear. He grabs a handful, thick fingers sinking into the squish. He gives it a jiggle and it wobbles.

You don't blame him. It's a great ass. Perfect for grabbing and digging your nails into. Next time, you're making him get on top so you can do just that. 

But you prefer his front. That's where all the good shit is. Soft, muscular pecs, perfect for grabbing and groping, covered in a dusting of hair that trails down to his soft belly.

His hands go there next, pinching his sides. He gives them a shake and his belly bounces. 

That little zing shoots up your gut and into your throat, that one you always get around men like him. That same one as when you first saw him from across the diner, draining a pitcher of beer. The same one you had last night when you walked in on him eating pie filling. And now, watching him preening after a wild romp.

...or you thought he was preening. He turns his body around and as his hands go to his face -- he's got a stronger jawline than you'd expected when he's barefaced -- you notice his laugh lines deepen. He lets out a grunt of disgust as his lips curl.

You frown. He's saying ugh as if you couldn't keep your hands off of him last night. Coaxing him in closer with pie filling just so you could feel his body molding against yours. Grabbing his cheeks and yanking him in for a kiss you'd been craving for months. Dragging him to his cabin and fucking yourself on him while you dug your nails into whatever soft flesh you could grab.

You close the door with a firm check of the hips. The slam startles him, but he calms as he sees you. Somewhat. There's still an uneasy look in his eye.

“G’morning,” he says. A little blush blooms across his cheeks. He avoids eye contact.

He'd be cute if he wasn't pathetic. You set the coffee down on the nearest surface and wrap your arms around his waist, resting your hands on the swell just above his hips and resting your cheek between his shoulder blades.

“Thank you for finally taking the hint,” you say into his skin.

He chuckles, a low, vibrating thrum. “I never miss a cue, baby.”

Lies. You've been trying everything. Flirting. Making his favorite food. You even went braless one day on a supply run with him and he didn't even blink. Idiot.

“Then why'd it take you so damn long?”

He scoffs. “Had to make sure I wasn't seeing things,” he mumbles.

He's so pathetic. Like a wet cat. You can't help but squeeze his sides--

He jumps away from you like you gave him an electric shock. “Stop it!” he spits.

You blink. “Stop what?”

“Stop-- Stop mocking me!”

You blink a few more times. “What the fuck are you talking about?”

The flush deepens along with his scowl. “Quit touching me like that.”

Not what he was saying last night. “Like what?”

“Stop grabbing my--” He huffs. “I know I’m fat. Quit rubbing it in.”

Pardon? Did you hear that correctly? Does he know who he's talking to? You try to keep your tone even, but you were never good at that. “Permission to speak freely, Captain?”

He blanches. “...No.”

Too bad. You grab him by the waist and throw him onto the bed. He yelps as he bounces, then once again as you straddle his waist.

“Buggy. Darling. Cher,” you say. “Do you really think I would have fucked you if I didn't think you were hot shit?”

He simmers like a boiling pot with the lid still on. “Maybe!”

Pour l’amour de Dieu, c’est un contraieuse et un tête de cabri et pourquoi ce clown so fucking stupid?

You scoot backwards, kissing your way down his chest. Each one gets a tiny grunt from him until you get to his belly. He growls and tries to roll away, but you hold fast. You gently kiss just above his navel, then the tuft of blue hair right below it.

You peer up at him. He peers back, brow knit up, questioning you.

You press your face into his navel and blow a raspberry against his skin.

Buggy squeal-laughs. You've never heard him make that noise before and it's very cute. You do it again and he devolves into laughter.

“Sto-o-op!” he cackles.

You do not. You do it again and again until he's wheezing and not scowling any more. You stare up at him, fingering the tuft of hair below his navel.

He comes down slowly, cackles turning to giggles to breathless gasps. He finally sees you staring. “What?”

“Feeling better?” you ask. He huffs, but he does nod. “Good. Now stop being mean to my favorite captain.”

He frowns a bit at that. “Who’s that? Alvida? When'd she come up?” You keep staring at him. He blinks. “Wait, you mean--?”

Gros couillion. “No, the other guy I fucked last night,” you say. He bristles. Fuck’s sake. “Yes, you!”

He blinks again. The flush returns. “You mean that?”

“I wouldn't be on top of your naked-ass body if I didn't.” You place lean in close, the tip of your nose bumping his. “And you have a very nice body, Captain.”

Just for emphasis, you grab his side, right at the fleshiest part, and give a hard squeeze. He jumps, but nods.

He tries to dive in for a kiss, but you pull away. If you do that, you'll be here all morning. You stand up, offering him your hands. “C’mon, breakfast is ready,” you say.

“I'm not hungry.” His stomach growls. He glares at it. “Shut up.”

Trump card time. “Guess I'll just have to feed all those beignets to Richie, then.”

His eyes go wide. “...you made bin-yays?”

He still can't pronounce it right, but he's getting there. “Sure did,” you say coolly. You examine your nails. “Won't be good for much longer.”

His stomach growls again. “And that pie?” 

“Should be good to go, but you better be quick. They'll go fast.”

He jumps to his feet and licks his lips. “Well, keep some for me! Lemme-- Lemme get dressed and I'll be right down.”

“Don't take too long,” you say.

You turn to leave, but he grabs your hand. With a yank and a twirl, he pulls you flush against him and into a kiss.

You melt right into it. Rough lips move against yours, his warm body molds against you, strong arms holding you tight, belly pressing against yours... his nose squishing into your cheek. Wonderful, all of it.

You separate with a pop. He grins at you and wipes his wrist along his lips. “Didn’t think I was gonna let you leave without that?”

You blush. Now he decides to be slick. “Just get dressed.”

You twirl him around and, with a flat hand, you swat his ass. Just to see it quiver. The slap echoes in the small room and he jumps, but you can't stick around to see the look on his face.

You've got work to do.

---

Special thanks to my bf, Meg, and Ollie for beta-ing!

To the Mastahpost | To the Tip Jar

[gilverrwrites]

Supernatural Taste and Smell Headcanons

I included a lot of characters (I think 24?), but if your fave didn't make the cut, just send me an ask!

Dean

Smell: Leather, cinnamon, and the kind of musk that only comes from an axe body spray, cause you know what man only buys whatever is quick and easy at the gas station. He’d also smell like gasoline.

Taste: Malty like beer, but sweet in the way bbq sauce is sweet.

Sam

Smell: I just feel like (when he’d not hunting) he smells clean, ya know? Citrusy and woody, kind of like D&G light blue, with undertones of like a ‘fresh’ scented fabric softener.

Taste: Kind of fruity but tart, like a berry smoothie.  Also just a little bit of like garlic, or mustard.

John

Smell: That man is a smoker, and you can’t tell me otherwise – at least later in life, way after the marines, and losing Mary. He always has a stale smoke smell on his clothes and lips. I recon he uses old spice or similar as an aftershave, so also like cloves/sage.

Taste: Again smoky, ashy, but also oaky and malty like bourbon.

Mary

Smell: Citrusy like Sam but darker, smokier (joke not intended) with hints of like jasmine, bergamot, and a little bit of vanilla. 100% the kind of smell that wraps you up if you come in for a hug.  

Taste: Chocolate, specifically the kinds with nuts and caramel, woman has a sweet tooth.

Castiel

Smell: I feel like all angels smell at least a little like parma violets, or some kind of sweet and subtle floral smell, be especially Cas. On top of that, he’d have like other earthy scentes, like honey,  patchouli, maybe a bit of amber.

Taste: Coffee, always coffee. When human/when he eats; grape jelly, and honey.

Jack

Smell: Like Cas he has the sort of clean, floral scent to him. I also think he would smell of peppermint and like a yankee candle version of warm vanilla. He just has a cosy, familiar smell to him.

Taste: Again I think minty, additionally like white chocolate and rose/flora flavours.

Bobby

Smell: Like old books, burnt candle wicks, motor oils, and nose hair singing whisky.

Taste: More than anyone else on this list (including Crowley) Bobby tastes like whisky. Not the good stiff though, that’s only for special occasions. He taste like Jim Beam and Jack Daniels.

Crowley

Smell: Like a bonfire!!! Smokey, warm, woody, with a hint of burnt sugar.

Taste: 100% Whisky, and dark chocolate.

Charlie

Smell: Charlie smells like she just stepped out of a fantasy book, like wildflowers, and peppercorn. Like strawberry and blackcurrant wine.

Taste: Like a vegan alternative to Nutella, creamy, chocolatey, nutty.

Meg

Smell: Surprisingly soft and clean. Milky, with almond and peach. Just a hint of leather and cedarwood underneath.

Taste: Salty and sweet, anise: like a strawberry liquorice.

Ruby

Smell: Like cedarwood, ginger, and pink pepper. Pleasant but sharp, and strong. Like it pulls you in from across the room.

Taste: Bold and sweet like cabernet sauvignon, starkly contrasted by pepperoni and cheesy pasta.

Lucifer

Smell: Similar to Jack, in that he smells clean and minty. However, his is sharper, harsher. There is lime, and moss, and mahogany.

Taste: Like pure Moroccan mint, with that like sweet sourness you get on things like a tangfastics or a sourpatch kid. Like if you’re not expecting it, or you taste it for to long it will make you squirm.

Gabriel

Smell: Like walking into the kitchen of a bakery just before opening and they’re prepping everything. Mocha, malted sugar, rich caramel, creamy vanilla.  

Taste: All of the above again! Just so sweet and creamy. Like a spoonful of sugar.

Raphael

Smell: Very similar to Cas, floral, but less earthy, and more sterile. Like aloe vera and antiseptic.

Taste: Again, very clean. He has a flavour the way cucumber has flavour? Refreshing, clean, but not notable.

Michael/Adam 😍

Smell: Kind of like the ocean, meets the forrest. Musk, white lilies, salt, collided with pine, sandalwood, and cedar. Cold, but familiar, ya know?

Taste: Hear me out: Fruit loops, and Dr Pepper. Like Michael has little say over what they eat, that’s all on Adam. And after the initial, ‘I haven’t eaten in 1200 years, I’m gonna eat everything I craved’ has worn off. He’s just like, a normal guy (who does not need to eat because he shares his body with an immortal angel). So, I can see him mostly reaching for snacks that make him feel good, that remind him of his mum, or his childhood, something comforting; like sugary cereals and fizzy drinks. I love them, I will take no criticism.

Rowena

Smell: Like an apothecary. Rich and indulgent. Very aromatic with lots of deep woody tones, sweet cherry, dark rose and other florally scents.

Taste: Like a bottle of mataro, or Nebbiolo wine. Spice, cherry, plum, smoke. She both smells and tastes intoxicatingly expensive.   

Chuck

Smell: Kind of musky, cottony, leafy. I don’t really imagine him smelling too strongly of anything.

Taste: Summary and tart, like a sea breeze cocktail. (Grapefruit, cranberry, lime – an acquired taste)  

Amara

Smell: Similar to Chuck, I sort of envision an absence of smell. Maybe just hints of amber, sandalwood, and a musky citrusy scent.

Taste: Like a white dessert whine, like Riesling. Dry but sweet. Honey, and pears.

Billie

Smell: Bergamot, rose, silk, and cocoa. Inviting and pleasant, but with an undertone of darkness.

Taste: Very similar to scent, sweet and warm but with an aftertaste of something bitter; blackcurrant and dark chocolate

Benny

Smell: Robust (Copper, ginger, tobacco,) but enticing (amber, cardamom, cinnamon).

Taste: I mean, I have tried really had to not add blood to any of the previous entries, but Benny undeniably tastes like blood.

Kevin

Smell: Not good. Pre-prophethood, not so much; I imagine like mint, green tea, jasmine, the kind of smell you would expects from a reasonably priced aftershave. During prophethood, the aftershave is long forgotten; its more fried chicken, old paper, and forgetting to shower for 9 days.

Taste: Like redbull, chexmix, and mouthwash.

Eileen

Smell: Like peaches, and roses, rich chocolate, and strong coffee.

Taste: Chocolate and coffee again, but hints of sparkly summer fruits.

Ketch

Smell: Like high end British aftershaves only the royal family know off, something with notes of fig, and oud, and other pretentious smells. The small of cigar smoke, and leather follow him around too.

Taste: Like earl grey tea, and dry gin.

Balthazar

Smell: Kind of like ketch, some high end and expensive (if he actually had to pay for it). But woodsier, and fresh. He would also have that hidden undertone of violet.

Taste: Creamy and hazelnutty, but there’s a constant aftertastes alcohol, and something metallic to him, no  matter what comes first.

[blushcoloreddreams]

9 dishes for cold days that will heat your soul

Capeletti soup - a warm soup is perfect for cold days and capeletti is known for its simplicity, flavor and comforting sensation.

Polenta - There's nothing better than polenta with ragú or minced meat on a cold day, accompanied by good cheese.

Risotto a la milanese - a classic risotto from the Milan region, prepared with arborio rice, saffron, meat broth, onion, butter and parmesan cheese, it is delicious!

Pumpkin cream soup - Pumpkin is a very tasty option for making creamy soups. This dish is even better with shredded chicken, croutons and gorgonzola!

Stuffed pasta - a tortéi or ravioli with tomato sauce and cheese could be the solution to accompany a ragú and make a perfect dinner!

Fondue - It is a popular option in the winter of the Rio Grande do Sul mountains. The melted cheese with the various side dishes, meats, followed by a beautiful dessert... makes it the perfect experience to enjoy with friends and family.

Pot roast - the cooking method leaves it soft, juicy and full of flavor; The juices and seasonings mix together to create a rich, flavorful sauce. It goes perfectly with a purée and potatoes go very well with the meat sauce.

Lasagna - an iconic dish of Italian cuisine, made with layers of pasta, Bolognese meat sauce, cheese and béchamel sauce. It is surprisingly good accompanied by a beautiful wine.

Hot chocolate - Although it's not exactly a dish, hot chocolate is a popular drink, a cozy dessert, enjoyed all over the world and especially in cold weather... it's a treat to savor and make a simple moment special!

since your mouth is watering when you see this content now… 😋

In this winter chill… all we want for ourselves and our loved ones is that food that warms, welcomes and comforts…

And these dishes I chose, besides being eye-catching and delicious… are also true comfort food - that preparation that feeds, nourishes and embraces the heart and our soul.

Take advantage of this weekend, and make some of these dishes for the special people in your life… take advantage of the opportunity to exercise one of the most beautiful forms of the feminine: NUTRITION - get ready for compliments and to surprise those you love 🥰

[exhausted-archivist]

So I'm working on drawing food for the headnotes of the recipes I've concepted out and haven't tested or fully worked out the kinks. I want to post something to celebrate The Veilguard drop, especially something I can queue up because I will be avoiding you all and the spoilers for at least a week haha.

The poll is below and the recipe headnotes are below the cut if you want an idea of what I'm working with.

Boiled Eggs and Pine Nuts Sauce (Appetizer) A simple and delightful dish one would not particularly expect from a nation of opulence such as Tevinter. A sweet dish with the perfect touch of zing, nutty, and savory notes, while holding a compelling contrast of being both crunchy and soft.

Deepstalker Stew (Soup/Stew) An uncommon meal, one that most won’t serve outside the appeal for an ‘exotic’ dish or in times of desperation. This stew is more often one to be consumed should you be stuck in the Deep Roads or an isolated cave. Not, at a tavern when one has been on the road for several days. It should be noted that depending on where you’re capturing these cave-dwelling creatures will dictate the taste. Many of the accounts I have heard from the Legionnaires describe the taste and texture akin to chicken. Whereas if you catch them near water sources they garner a fishy taste with the texture of chicken. But, this stew is simple in and of itself. Usually with very little substance aside from the meat and whatever edible additions you can forage for. In this recipe we have tried to enhance it with herbs, potatoes, and salt.

Braised Nug with Elfroot (Savory) This salty, aromatic dish melts in your mouth with its tenderness. Nug is a common and popular dish for Orzammar dwarves. One that lingers in some surface communities with a twist of new herbs and spices. Though humble is the nug and elfroot, this meal is filling and delightful in its own right.

Exquisite Misery (Dessert) The Orlesians are nothing if not indulgent and extravagant. From wyverns to phoenixes, Orlesians have a tendency to play chance with their lives for whatever element of decadence is in the trends. While deep mushrooms are perhaps the least lethal thing one can consume, I do advise avoiding eating too many of these little cakes. That said, should one partake and find that they are able to get past the musky, earthy flavor; these can be quite a treat. Fluffy, soft, and a touch sweet, it is a dessert I find best to consume after a rather savory or spicy meal.

Roasted Fiddleheads and Leeks with Goat Cheese (Vegetable) A dish available during only a few short weeks in the spring, fiddleheads have a delightful crunch from the roasting as well as their natural snap. They have a sweet, but not quite grassy taste to them almost akin to beans and asparagus. When paired with the sweet, caramelized flavour of the leeks and the creamy, tartness of your favourite goat cheese. It pairs well with a protein or on a bed of grains.

Seasoned Mussels (Seafood) The exact origins of this dish are unknown, given that Antiva, Rivain, and Tevinter hold strong ties to their coastal waters and each have several versions of how to make this dish. Most scholars declare it was Tevinter in origin due to the age of the Imperium, but the question then lies what area of the Imperium and when? The version I have crafted is a blend of Antivan and Rivaini flavours, as I prefer the shellfish off their coastlines to those of Tevinter. A rich dish that can be eaten with a fine pasta or spread over a bed of rice.

[moon-child-goddess]

Slice of Heaven

Summery: Reader and Carmy are roommates with feelings for each other.

Warnings: Nicknames used instead on Y/N (darling, baby) , some language, drinking, reader does act a little childish, I am not sure what this is, but here you go

The door to our apartment shut with an unexpected force, causing the picture on the wall above me shook. Carmy must have come home. He was back earlier than usual a full twenty minutes a head of schedule. I had hoped to have dinner ready and plated by the time he walked in.

“Hello, Carmy.”  I called from the kitchen as I attempted to dice an onion.

His greeting was accompanied by the familiar jingle of keys as he tossed them into the bowl by door.

“I am making a creamy chicken pasta for dinner tonight. So, I hope you are hungry.”

It was our routine - well, my routine, really. After my 9-5, I would hit the gym across the street before coming home and prepping dinner. Camy would often get home late, especially with the restaurant renovations happening. On those nights, I would reheat the plate as soon as I heard him come home. I wanted to make sure he ate a full meal. Instead of just consuming cigarettes and snacks.  

“I told you I would make dinner toni-” his voice trailed off when he entered the kitchen. His gaze became fixated on my hands, blinking slowly. “What are you doing?”  

Carmy put a hand over his mouth rubbing back and forth while I continued to chop. He looked absolutely appalled.

“I am chopping vegetables. Obviously.” I replied, continuing my unconventional methods.

“That is not how you use a knife, darling. You are going to get hurt." He moved to the sink, scrubbing his hands vigorously scrubbing under his nails.

“This is how I always chop things. It's unorthodox, but it works for me.”  I insisted, waving the knife around for emphasis.

Carmy clicked his tongue in disapproval, and I spun to face him. My witty comeback dying on my lips when I noticed he was standing only a few inches away.  I could make out the different blues in his eyes. My heart rate increased, and for a long moment, I forgot how to breathe. He didn’t break the eye contact for a second.

“May I show you how?”  He asked a small smile lighting up his face, and the air came back to my lungs.

Unable to form the word ‘yes’ I simply nodded in response.

Carmy placed a hand on my hip, gently spinning me around to face the counter. His body pressed into my back, and I felt his fingers ghosting up my side for a very brief moment before he took hold of my hands. My skin was tingling and very aware of his touch. He gently pushed my left fingers in, setting my knuckles on top of the onion. For a brief second, I thought I was going to combust when he reached across for the knife and placed it back in my hand. The contact felt electric, more intimate than what we were used to. It was as if we were one person, both our hands moving together in a rocking motion.

“Like this. It will prevent injury.” He whispered into my ear, his chin resting on my shoulder.

In that moment, all the emotions I had buried deep surged to the surface, but I shoved them back down, refusing to acknowledge them. We had something good here, and I haven’t felt more at home than in these last seven months.  Carmy was my safe place, always so kind and supportive.

He didn’t pull away once we finished chopping the onion. He grabbed a carrot and continued. We chopped a few of them before he cleared his throat and released my hands. I immediately missed the feeling of his touch and had to fight the urge to grab his hands again.

I focused on the sounds of the kitchen - the clinking of glasses and the splashing of the veggies in the simmering sauce - to distract my mind. My body was hyperaware of him behind me and wanted nothing more than to feel his hands on me again.

 I needed to find something else to do to keep my mind off the one-sided sexual tension.

“I am going to clear a place to eat. Watch the sauce, please.”  

His head moved in a slight nod while filling a wine glass.

There wasn’t much cleaning needed. I moved the papers coved in Carmys restaurant notes to the side in a neat pile. I needed more to do. I couldn’t go back in the kitchen and face him yet. The urge to kiss him was becoming impossible to ignore after feeling his touch.

“Darling the sauce is done. Do you want me to add it to noodles?”

There was that stupid pet name again. He started calling me darling a few weeks after we moved in, and it never stopped. I had rarely heard my name; it was always darling this, darling that. When I had asked him about it once, he just shrugged and pulled out a cigarette.  

“Yes, the chicken in the oven should be ready, too.”  

Carmy sat across from me, staring at his plate with that small, rare smile of his. I waited for him to take a bite. It wasn’t that I thought the food was bad, but I worried it was mediocre for someone like him, a professional chef. He understood food like it was another language, and it was not one I spoke well.

He would often complement my cooking, but it never calmed my nerves.

We ended up drinking more wine than we should have, two empty bottles sat at the end of the table. I was giggling at every little comment Carmy made. Which was a sign I needed to stop drinking.

“This was really good, darling. You should come make family; they would love this.”

I flushed shaking my head. I had met his coworkers a few times and loved them. But the thought of cooking for them was a firm no.

“It could have been better.” I muttered staring in my wine glass.

He moved, so he sat next to me and leaned in, breaking all personal boundaries.

“It was good.” He ducked his head, making eye contact with me, and he held my hand, playing with my fingers.

We chatted more as the night wore on; it was Friday after all, so we wouldn’t be regretting this to much in the morning.

My head rested on my fist as I watched him. His curls had fallen out of place. I reached out, fixing the silky locks back into place.

His breathing became abnormal, and I leaned in clogging the gap between our faces. But as I did, he shifted away, and my lips brushed against his cheek. I pulled back quickly, embarrassment flooding my system. It override my drunken state.

“Sorry.” I murmured before grabbing the dishes and rushing to the kitchen sink.

“Hold on Darling.”  He said, rising to his feet just as quickly.

“I will do the dishes in the morning.” I was making a beeline to my room.

“Not like this. We are dru—” Before he could finish, I shut the door and locked It. I was mortified. 

The next morning, I made sure he was gone before heading to the gym to sweat out the slight hangover and work off the lingering embarrassment.

In the middle of my run, Carmy texted me.

Can we please talk tonight when I get home?

I rolled my eyes and increased my pace. What was there to say?  Was this the end of us? Had crossed a line we could never get back from.

I won’t be home till Monday I am going to my sisters.

My response was cowardly.

He called instantly after my message went through. I declined it- how very mature of me. When he called again, I let it go to voicemail. He didn’t leave one instead he texted.

Darling, please talk to me.

I left him on read and called my sister. Who was more than willing to let me crash on her couch for the weekend.

I did feel a twinge of guilt for lying to Carmy but there was no way I could face him without having a panic attack.

After staying at my sisters, I spent the next two weeks avoiding him. It helped that he worked every day of the week. It was like I was in some twisted escape room (self-inflicted), I waited in my bedroom every morning until I was sure he had left before I even dared to venture out. I kept my schedule tight, leaving work right at five. I stuck to my usual routine and then retreated to my room until morning. Sometimes, Carmy would knock on my door, trying to get me to talk. But like the child I was, I pretended to be asleep.

Despite my childish behavior, I made sure he had dinner every night. He was notoriously bad at taking care of himself, and I did not want to be the reason he skipped a meal. But I wasn’t sure how much longer I could keep this up. Moving out was starting to look like a viable option—a way to say goodbye before the heartbreak I knew was coming.

When I opened the door after my Friday afternoon run, the sound of clattering pots and pans filled the air, punctuated by a string of curse words. It was definitely Carmy. He must have gotten off work early today. Fuck.

No,No,No. I needed to leave. There was a bar down the road I could kill time at until it was late enough to avoid him. My sister was out of town for a work thing, so I couldn’t bother her. But I did have a key to her place.

When I turned to leave, I bumped into the table near the door, making a loud noise that he for sure now knew I was home. I hissed in pain. There was a throbbing in my hip.

Shit.

“Darling?”

I did what I did best and ignored the pet name hastily slipping my tennis shoes back on and attempting to escape before things could get awkward. The oven door was slammed closed while I yanked the front door open.

“Darling?”  he repeated, his voice clearer this time. I froze, staring out into the hallway.  

Turning back, I saw Carmy standing there. He had popped out of the kitchen, a towel slung over his shoulder, arms crossed, tattoos on full display. There was a look on his face I couldn’t quite decipher. It almost seemed like he was hurt?  

Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.  I hadn’t meant to hurt him. I felt so selfish, being consumed by my own fears.

“Were you about to leave?” I squeezed my eyes shut and closed the door. Cursing what gods were out there. Why was he home early?

“I left my phone at the gym.” I lied, knowing it was in the side pocket of my leggings. Why was I lying to this beautiful, gentle man?

Carmy quirked an eyebrow, staring me down.  He shook his head; his blonde curls were messier than usual.  I wanted to run my fingers through them and set them back in place.  

“You have been avoiding me.” His tone was a mix of anger and frustration, and I flinched.

“No, I have been busy at work. I am lead on a project, so I am putting in overtime at home.” It was a lame excuse, and we both knew it.

“Don’t. Don’t lie to me.” He spoke through his teeth tone tense. There was a curse under his breath before he continued. “I come home, and there is a plate of warm food on the counter. And you-” He gestures to me. “You are nowhere to be seen. I can hear you sneaking out in the morning. Your things are slowly disappearing.  So don’t fucking lie to me darling.”

I scoffed and walked past him to the living room it was too cramped in the entryway to have an argument. He followed behind me hot on my tracks.

“I am not- ” I started, but Carmy raised a hand to stop me, his jaw clenched.

“Please.”

There was a crack in his voice, as if he might cry. It shattered the wall I had built for months now. In response to my silence, he whispered my name. It was a plea for me to talk. In our time together, I hadn’t heard him sound so broken.

“I love you!” I yelled out, the words escaped me without a thought. I flung my hands up. “I know that’s the last thing you want to hear, but I love you. I never should have tried to kiss you, and I am sorry.”

Carmy stood there a blank look on his face. For once, I couldn’t read him, couldn’t anticipate his reaction. Oh god, I had messed everything up. He was going to want me to move out immediately. There was a burning sensation building up behind my eyes.

“I am sorry. I-I thought I could find a way to fix this. I will stay at my sister's house for a while. I can move my stuff out over the weekend.”

He still stood there unmoving, almost a statue, but I could still see him breathing. His expression changed, though, to one of confusion.

“I will leave next months rent too, so you have time to find someone else.”  I pushed past him, heading for my room to pack a bag. I also refused to cry in front of him.

I barely made it three steps when a warm hand grasped my arm, spinning me back around. Carmy pulled me into him. We were standing chest to chest; his breathing was heavy. The look of panic that was in his eyes softened as he stared down at me.

“Don’t.” It was all he whispered.

“What?” I managed to croak out.

The hand not holding on to my arm moved up and cupped my cheek. He didn’t respond to me, just stared down eyes, taking in every inch of my face.

I closed my eyes, leaning into his touch like a masochist, knowing this would make leaving so much harder. When I tried to pull away, he tightened his hold. His scent enveloped me, drowning out every rational thought. I should be running, but I found myself lowering my gaze to the ground, trying to factory reset my brain. The top of my head rested on his chest.

“Don’t leave.” He tilted my face up, locking our eyes together. Ensuring I understood every word. “Don’t leave."

I shook my head. A single tear falling. Why was he making this so painful?

“I didn’t kiss you that night because you were drunk. I have been in love with you since the moment we met at that awful coffee shop to discuss being roommates.  You asked me point blank if I was going to axe-murder you, and if I was going to, I needed to tell you now. That way you could make an informed decision. The sparkle in your eyes told me you were joking, that you knew you could take me if it came to that. I was yours the moment you smiled. Then there was your laugh—oh god, your laugh—when I told that terrible joke to ease my nerves. That’s when I was completely gone. I wanted no one else. I want no one else.”

I was at a loss for words. My mind racing in circles. This was the kind of love confessions you only saw in cheesy rom com movies, not real life. Carmy leaned in closer, his forehead resting on mine.

He moved his other hand to cradle my cheek, and I was engulfed in his warmth. My eyes locked on to his. “So please don’t leave.”  

“Carm.” It was a breathless whisper; I was barely able to form the word. He was so achingly close. I rested my palms on top of his white shirt.

“I know, baby.” His nose brushed against mine. We stayed like that for a moment, our eyes communicating to one another. Every unfiltered thought and emotion out there raw. His thumbs moved gently, caressing my face.

Then, without warning, he closed the distance that remained between us. Our lips met. I now understood what people meant when they said they felt fireworks during a kiss. Everything emotion and feeling erupted with in me. It was like my skin was on fire. Burning with the need for this man. This kiss was more passionate than anything I could have ever imagined. His lips moved fervently; almost demanding, and I surrendered to him completely.

A moan escaped me, and he briefly smiled into the kiss, breaking the rhythm he created.

His hands made there way down to my sides pulling me in impossibly closer, and I wound my fingers into his hair pulling at the soft strands. He bit down on my bottom lip swallowing my gasp wasting no time to deepen the kiss.

We somehow had managed to back up to the couch, and before we could stop it, we tumbled over the side. Carmy caught his weight before he could crush me. Both of us were panting, trying to fill our starved lungs. We were in a haze staring at each other, a delicious haze.

I broke out in a smile, letting out a giggle to which he smiled and placed another kiss on my lips.

“Let me take you out tomorrow a proper date. I made dinner tonight in hopes of cornering you.”

I gnawed on my bottom lip while nodding.

“I am free all day.” Carmy’s gave me the biggest smile I had ever seen from him. Instead of saying anything, he stood up, pulling me with him. He kissed me again like he was starved, and he needed to prove a point.

As if on que the oven timer went off, and he groaned pulling away.

[whentherewerebicycles]

top 10 things i cooked in 2023

this year i made 104 unique recipes (plus lots of duplicates when i liked something enough to make it multiple times). the places i went to most for recipes were feasting at home + the NYT recipes app, although i very much liked the weekday vegetarians, love and lemons, cookie & kate, nora cooks, and the foodie takes flight.

my top 10, in no particular order:

NYT ricotta pasta with roasted broccoli and crispy chickpeas (super simple but a great yummy pasta to make real quick for friends. I roasted the broccoli instead of broiling and added lots of extra lemon zest, garlic, red pepper flakes, and a tray of oven-roasted chickpeas)

moroccan vegetable tagine (i blended a bunch of recipes but the one linked was my starting point. this is the one form i like butternut squash in lol. modifications: i went heavy on all the spices but especially the cinnamon and cardamom, added chopped dried apricots to the stew for extra sweetness, and threw in a bunch of extra veggies. yum)

indian-ish nachos with cheddar, black beans and chutney (do NOT skip the multiple chutneys and sauces. it will seem like too much work you will say can't i just make one and be done with it but those sauces are where the magic lies. the great tragedy of these nachos is that i wanted to eat them for DAYS but they do not reheat well. but godddd they were good)

ottolenghi's green pancakes with lime butter (these are SO easy. great for brunch but also make delicious additions to your lunch for a couple days after. also it's a perfect way to eat a pound of spinach and feel very virtuous about it when really you just ate delicious jalapeno-y scallion pancakes. the lime butter is great but it's a lot of work so i usually just top these with some sour cream mixed with a lil bit of lime zest & lime juice)

cauliflower shawarma with spicy tahini sauce (YUM! the tahini sauce as written was too bitter for me with the cholula mixed in. i think i'd try it with sriracha next time so it was a little sweeter. i also added chickpeas yum)

roasted cauliflower daal with chickpeas (my notes say this was "OUTTA THIS WORLD DELICIOUS" but also note that it will "really clean you out GI-wise" lol. lentils always have that effect on me though so ymmv. i added bell pepper, roasted the cauliflower first, cooked the lentils most of the way soft in the rice cooker instead of on the stove, and added two chopped serrano peppers with seeds to give it a lil extra kick. i would recommend halving the recipe if you are cooking for one as there were TONS of leftovers and my GI system could not handle being cleansed that many times lol)

pasta with corn, tomatoes, "onion-bacon," and basil (this method of preparing onions really should not taste like bacon and yet it sort of does????? this was a summer recipe i made multiple times for a range of audiences and it was a hit every time. originally from the weekday vegetarians)

creamy corn pasta (THIS HAS NO RIGHT BEING AS GOOD AS IT IS. IT'S SO SIMPLE AND YET IT'S THE BEST THING I'VE EVER TASTED I COULD EAT IT FOR DAYS. WE ATE IT ALL SUMMER)

ottolenghi's very full roasted veggie tart (it will take you hours to make and no time at all to consume but oh my god it's so good and SUCH a satisfying way to spend a long weekend afternoon. liz and i loved this so much we had to have a serious sitdown to discuss how we would divvy up the leftovers because we felt it could seriously damage our friendship if one of us ate all of it)

bombay burritos (the little sauces and things take a long time to make but you can prep a lot of the stuff a day or two in advance and gosh these are so tasty!! the curried mashed potatoes YUM)

honorable mentions:

ottolenghi's mango soba noodles (skip the eggplant i'd do tofu or something instead)

braised tofu with basil (i made this with a veggie-loaded stir fry and topped it with a fried egg)

this carrot cake (it took forever to make but it was the best carrot cake i've ever had and the only thing i'll ever make on my bday from here on out). she also has a pumpkin cake recipe that is so good and much simpler to make (no grating required)

momofuku's ginger scallion tofu with crispy coconut rice (the recipe is for a shrimp version but we made it with tofu and it was very yummy. i made this at a friend's house and it was so good i wanted to ask to take home some of the leftovers but decided that was too rude ahaha)

and then of course i gotta give a shoutout to my #1 comfort foods this year, SHAKSHUKA (my beloved) + a caprese sandwich with balsamic glaze served on really good bread.

[friend-crow]

could you share your roux secrets please?

also, it might just be because I’m english but I’ve never heard of having roux with breakfast - what do you have it with, if you don’t mind me asking?

The roux is just the base for the breakfast gravy. We do (American) biscuits and gravy for breakfast here. Usually sausage or some other form of white gravy.

So, you start by heating some fat. Maybe you're having bacon with breakfast (streaky bacon, since you're English), in which case you can use the fat left in the pan after making bacon. Other options are butter, oil, maybe some grease left from cooking sausage, if you're making sausage gravy. Other animal fats work too (forgetting breakfast for a moment, you can use drippings from a roast to make gravy for a dinner).

So you heat the fat (medium-low), then you add flour. In theory it's equal parts by weight, but I ain't weighing shit, especially when it's just leftover fat that's already in the pan -- I just eyeball it and sprinkle in one spoonful at a time, whisking it with a fork or a whisk until the liquid fat has been thickened and is approaching a paste-like consistency. You cook this mixture until it turns golden brown.

That's it. That's the roux.

Now if you're making gravy you can slowly add milk for a white gravy, at bit at a time so you don't get lumps. For a brown gravy you add broth (also you'd typically want to brown the roux a little darker than you would for a white gravy or sauce).

Creamy pasta sauce? Add milk (this gets you a bechamel sauce, which is a great starting point for mac and cheese), garlic, and perhaps some cheese.

Soup? Add broth and whatever other elements you're putting in the soup.

It's just two ingredients, but it's the stepping stone to many delicious things.

You can also use cornstarch instead of flour, but I'm not a fan of the more gelatinous consistency it produces.

[recipeshub24]

Cooking Homemade meal using this perfect Recipe- YOU WILL LOVE IT😍😍

Cauliflower Mac and Cheese Cauliflower Mac and Cheese is a fun and tasty twist on the classic comfort food. It combines creamy cheese sauce with pasta and healthy cauliflower. This dish is perfect for families, especially if you're looking for a way to sneak in some veggies! Why Make This Recipe This recipe is great beca... 🍕🍟🥪 ✅ Don’t miss out, Get The full Recipe Here 🥙🥡🍖

[lynsstrange]

For the emoji asks:

☕️🧃🍜🍉🌻👥

☕️: hot chocolate probably, i can't stand coffee. tea is nice too but i usually don't go out of my way to have it

🧃: shirley temples will usually be my go-to at restaurants, but I love love love arnold palmers

🍜: pasta of any kind is an automatic winner for me, but I'm especially a sucker for any kind of pesto or creamy vodka-type sauce

🍉: raspberries or peaches <3

🌻: bleeding hearts are soo gorgeous i've always wanted to figure out how to plant some ( i say with zero (0) gardening experience)

👥: ohh this is tough. top three that come to me rn are kanej (six of crows), percabeth (percy jackson), and wolfstar (harry potter technically but like bfr)

[theheadlessgroom]

"I-I'd love to!"

Randall's heart leaped at the suggestion; it didn't matter that it was so short-notice, and so soon after this first date. After all, it wasn't like he had much planned for this day off, honestly; for the most part on his free days, he played it by ear. Sleeping in, lazing about the house, taking it easy, leisurely meals with his folks...it was all very nice, but an evening spent with her sounded like heaven.

"U-Uh, I-I have a Bride of Frankenstein model kit I haven't opened yet," he added; another discounted kit he was able to get his hands on; he had the Monster, but not his Bride yet. "Uh, I-I could bring that and my paints, and if there's anything else you might like me to bring over for dinner, uh, any drinks or dessert or something like that, I can!"

He almost suggested painting his London After Midnight kit he'd gotten for his birthday that spring (a surprise gift from his parents he was thrilled to receive), but he held off on suggesting it-vampires didn't seem to be her favorite monsters, and so he offered the Bride as an option instead, hoping she'd like that better.

@beatingheart-bride

Emily wasn't the only one wishing the night would never end: As they all sat together, chatting away, his parents quickly warming up to this curious young woman their son had brought home, Randall found himself similarly wishing the night would go on, never to end. Even as he eyed the clock as it chimed from its place on the mantle, he wished he could stay up all night with the lovely woman by his side. He knew he'd be dragging his feet tomorrow (even if it was still his day off), but it'd be more than worth it in his opinion.

But all good things must come to an end, and so eventually the Pace parents were preparing to head off to bed-but not before thanking Emily for coming by, June commenting, "I'm very glad you stopped by, dear, I hope we'll see you again! If you'd like to join us for dinner sometime, we'd be more than happy to have you at our table."

Randall visibly brightened at the prospect of Emily coming over for dinner one of these nights (though he also made a note to himself to let his mother know about her garlic allergy, so that they could prepare accordingly); he'd have to give her a call one of these nights, see if she'd be open to it...

"W-Would you like me to walk you home, Emily?" Randall offered, tone sweet and chivalrous as he fiddled with his shirt cuff, hoping she would say yes-it wasn't that he didn't think she could get home by herself, he was just hoping to milk as much time with her as he could...

[count-alucard-tepes]

Your fav OP Hotties reaction to when their S/O’s fav food is the OP Hotties least fav/hated food

So I know that Oda has already given their favorite and least favorite food but I'll try and elaborate based on my opinion of them and western and eastern cuisines.

Kizaru✨

He likes tempura quite a bit even though it's not food for anyone's health really but he does enjoy it from time to time. Especially if its shrimp! Have this prepared for him and he will tell you all the naughty secrets of the marines. He dislikes anything too spicy but sometimes he tries Akainu's cooking and then he's in pain for a couple of hours later. So when he finds out his S/O likes spicy food, he doesn't mind at all and would usually go to a restaurant where both of them could enjoy their favorite meals.

Akainu🌋

He has a sweet tooth and tends to always have something sweet after his lunch as he can over indulge at times. His favourite dessert is an speculaas tart with almond filling which was introduced to him when he was travelling as a young marine, its not too sweet but it just hits the spot for him. If you ever want to calm him down and make him happy, bring him a large tart and he won't burn you. He dislikes durians and can't get over the smell, it's too much for him. He would lecture his S/O about only eating the fruit outside of the house because of the smell and to brush their teeth immediately after.

Ryokugyu🌱

He loves good Southern spicy fried chicken with gravy and mashed potatoes. This is something he would eat when he breaks his fast and he's gonna eat all he can! He dislikes chocolate muffins, they make his teeth ache. He would lecture his S/O about how much sugar is in the muffin and how bad that is for their body.

Sir Crocodile 🐊

He loves creamy chicken Italiano and eats this on a weekly basis out of his regular diet. He enjoys pasta from time to time but is pretty strict with his health and does not indulge too much. He dislikes any dish that has a tomato based sauce despite liking tomatoes, it gives him heart burn. He wouldn't really mind his S/O eating it as long as he doesn't have to eat it.

Doflamingo Donquixote🦩

He likes all kinds of seafood and enjoys having fresh oysters for breakfast every morning with a bit of hot sauce and freshly squeezed lemon juice. He never truly feels awake until he has his oysters. He dislikes fried chicken as he thinks it's way too heavy for him, he likes to keep his sexy body all year long. He would tell his S/O that it's not healthy for the body and that they should find alternative healthier options.

Benn Beckman🔫

He enjoys sushi and sashimi. He usually goes somewhere he could enjoy a meal by himself as there was a time where he didn't know how to eat wasabi and almost saw Kami-San. Shanks never let this down so he now just goes alone. He dislikes coffee ice cream and thinks it's an abomination. He would watch his S/O with a frown before commenting that it looks like baby's poop just to piss his S/O off.

Katakuri Charlotte🍡

He loves having barbecues with his brothers and sisters and of course he's the one in charge at the grill. He makes burgers, hot dogs and lots racks of ribs which he marinates by himself. He could eat barbecued meat forever and be content. He dislikes matcha flavoured desserts, he thinks they're gross. He would cringe as he watched his S/O eat but wouldn't comment or anything like that.

Killer🔪

He enjoys a full Scottish breakfast with eggs, bacon, baked beans, black pudding, scones, tomatoes, mushrooms and haggis all with a nice cup of tea. Usually after eating all of this, he goes into a food coma but he's happy as ever. He dislikes any kind of cheese, he's lactose intolerant. He would make gagging sound when his S/O eats it and would say they have cheese breath.

Kaido🐉

He likes a good helping of tonkatsu with rice and curry as well as an omelet over it. It is his comfort food and he could eat it several times a week. He dislikes edamame and if anyone serves him this would never hear the end of it. He would glare at his S/O and tell them to eat it somewhere else because it smells terrible.

King👑

He really loves eating crabs, especially crab legs. He usually has it with a spicy sauce and rice. When ever Queen wants him to approve something, he treats him with several kilograms of crab legs and he gets the approval he needs. He dislikes cheesy sauces, he thinks its gross on seafood and just doesn't generally like it. He would look at his S/O in disapproval but wouldn't say anything in case he got them mad for something they liked.

Queen 👑

He loves eating roasted pork belly with all the condiments he can have. He doesn't really care much about his health so he tends to eat large amounts of it all the time. He dislikes fruity desserts, he doesn't like fruits in general. He would laugh and say things like, 'you don't need to watch what you eat, love! You're perfect!'.

[chellyisacreampuff]

Sunday, 20 Oct

Had to get a letter from the central post office, since it contained my information about my Japanese national health insurance and the payment and everything, so I could only get it with a signature, so I had to go there in person. It's kinda far away from the Dormitory, about half an hour... So I decided to just plan a whole day for going out.

I realised the bubble tea shop that I wanted to go to is in a very nearby shopping mall, so I went there and got bubble tea first. I couldn't resist and got the special sweet potato bubble tea at DouDou - it's extremely amazing and delicious! With actual sweet potato inside, so it tastes very natural.

Then I was just walking around and looking around, also got myself a workout mat finally! And after I walked around enough, I decided to go to Saizeriya, an "Italian" restaurant, as I've seen it on YouTube before and had planned to go there at some point.

Got a pasta gratin with shrimps and creamy sauce, for 430 ¥ and it tasted exactly like 430 ¥. And I also treated myself by getting these cinnamon buns with ice cream, they were actually really delicious! And all the food is so cheap, it's amazing.

Since I planned to spend the day out today, I also wanted to go to the Iias shopping mall. From my dorm it's half an hour, and the previous shopping mall is half an hour, but between the shopping malls it's again half an hour... So it's kinda like a triangle, I guess. As it gets dark here already at 5pm, I could see my city and its lights in the dark... 💫

Back home I ate the treats I had collected step by step, while watching LoL Worlds. One strawberry sandwich, with both normal and pistachio whipped cream and I think nuts in the dough? Was very delicious, fruity, creamy, soft, not too sweet (finally an example where I believe those people saying Japanese sweets are not as sweet), 4/5. Then I went to Mister Donuts again, but most was already sold out since it was so late, so I only got another halloween special and the most basic donut. The basic one was actually pretty good. Soft and fluffy on the inside, firm and almost crispy on the outside, nice simple dough flavour, 4/5. The Halloween one was a bit disappointing though; was basically a standard donut where they just put chocolate on top. But somehow the chocolate didn't add value and taste, like it usually does, but just made it more boring in taste. Probably also because it was a bit sweet. 3/5. And lastly, I got a chocolate fondant cake, from Beard Papa's. Originally I went there to try new cream puff flavours (especially the sweet potato one), but because I got to the shop so late, it was already sold out. Sad. But the chocolate cake was still amazing, though it didn't have the lava effect, as I couldn't eat it up. But yeah, 4/5 (bit sweet).

Very much enjoyed all this delicious food all day.

[jedi-valjean]

I've been upping my pasta game recently (shoutout to Vincenzo's Plate on YouTube) and here's what I've learned

When people tell you to salt your pasta water, they don't mean throw a pinch in the water. You want a whole spoonful of that stuff, maybe even two. This will create an infusion that brings out the flavor of the pasta. Don't make the sauce do all the work flavor-wise

The pasta waits for the sauce, not the other way around. Don't let your pasta sit out while you're prepping the sauce. You should start prepping the sauce before the pasta water is even boiling, whether you're making the sauce from scratch or just heating up something from a jar

DO NOT put oil in the pasta water. This will make your pasta slick and the sauce won't adhere to it. Same goes for drizzling it over your pasta after you take it out of the pot. If you're making aglio e olio or another pasta with olive oil, you want to mix it in the saucepan with pasta water and your other ingredients so that it becomes emulsified

Save your pasta water! Get a measuring cup full of pasta water before you drain it. You'll most likely need it, especially if you're making a sauce from scratch. If you're working with a small pasta or a pasta with filling, use a slotted spoon instead of a colander to remove the water

Most creamy sauces don't need actual cream. Instead, mix finely grated cheese with the pasta water. You'll get the same creamy texture and milky taste, but it won't be as heavy as straight cream

Pre-grated cheese doesn't melt properly because it has anti-caking agents to keep the cheese from sticking in the bag. It's fine if you're just sprinkling it on top, but if you want it to melt in the sauce, grate it by hand. (This also applies to making nachos— never use pre-shredded cheese for nachos!)

Pot size and water amount matter. The less water you use, the starchier your water will be, but the more likely it is that your pasta will stick. You want to use enough water to keep your pasta off the bottom of the pot, so be sure to give it space!

On a related note, you don't need to stir the pasta constantly, just at the beginning when you put it in. The closer it gets to being done, the more buoyant it will become and you shouldn't have to worry about it sticking

The package will never lie to you about how long to cook the pasta. The only time you should cook the pasta for a shorter amount of time than the package instructions is if you plan to cook it the rest of the way through in the saucepan

When the pasta is done cooking, put it directly in the sauce and mix it. (The best way to do this is by tossing it— either with tongs or, even better, in a skillet.) You'll want to pour pasta water in small amounts over areas where the sauce isn't sticking

Extra virgin olive oil is better than regular olive oil which is better than vegetable or other kinds of oil

Pasta sauce does not need sugar. Don't buy pasta sauce with sugar if you can help it

The lighter a dried pasta, and the longer it takes to cook, the better it is

DO NOT cut basil with a knife. Use your hands to rip it up or the flavors will seep into the board and you will lose them

Crushed garlic is usually the best way to bring out the flavors of garlic. You want fresh cloves crushed in a garlic press

Tomato paste is for pizza, not pasta sauce

[rain-world-positivity-blog]

im going to bombard you with some random qs if thats ok!

what food do you think iterators and scugs would like if they existed irl?

tulip-anon🌷

Wow! Hi, you’re my first named anon that’s cool! It’s totally okay to spam me with questions, headcanons, positive confessions, OC lore dumps, fic recommendations, just whatever really!

Now, let me think of this a little! (I’ll do everyone I think, for fun~)

Moon - she’s giving me sushi and seafood vibes, but I also think Moon would like herbal teas and stuff too. I bet she’d also enjoy tanghulu (Chinese candied fruit on a stick, very popular in Korea too! My favourite kind is mandarin heheh). I feel like she’d like tuna sushi the most out of all her favourites though!

Pebbles - this guy gives me depressed microwave meal vibes, like sad overdone rustlers chicken burger. Okay but on a serious note Pebbles is a soup guy you can’t convince me otherwise. Give this man his broth! I bet he’d really enjoy a chicken soup with some crusty garlic bread.

NSH - edibles Nah, this man subsides off coffee alone! No milk, no sugar, just coffee. Also a fan of sour candies than make you almost cry. He’d also be the one guy to just make unholy food combinations at 3am, but if we just want to stay simple? Mac n cheese. Can’t go wrong with that!

Suns - spicy food!! They’re the kind to slurp down those super hot noodles that burn your mouth and hurt your tummy and make you cry except their spice tolerance is ELITE! People will be signing away their lives and they’re heaping in more hot sauce. Ramen enjoyer.

Wind - hmm, I dunno about Wind to be honest! Wind does give me simple meal vibes. Probably snacks on those protein bars that taste like cardboard but thinks they taste good. Has cereal for lunch every day and not even the nice kind. Flavourless and unseasoned ass food.

Innocence - cake, macarons, cookies, diabetes. This iterator has never even seen a vegetable.

Sliver - I think she’d enjoy pasta! Like creamy and cheesy pasta. There’s a place near me that does truffle cheesy spaghetti with mixed seafood. She’d like that!

Now for the slugcats, didn’t put that much thought into these just went off vibes 😅

Survivor - marshmallows and white chocolate!

Monk - eats whole lemons on purpose while maintains direct eye contact

Hunter - fried chicken, especially hot wings

Gourmand - Gourm enjoys all food as long as it’s made with love! But homemade bread is the big favourite here!

Artificer - steak. It’s either so overdone it’s charcoal or so raw it’s trying to run away. Depends on the vibes

Rivulet - cotton candy and menthol sweets so minty they burn

Spearmaster - protein shake enjoyer, really likes the shitty banana flavour

Saint - ginger cookies and chocolate chip ice cream

Enot/Inv - monster energy and chilli heatwave Doritos, the meal of gamers

Watcher - since we know little about this guy… untoasted white bread, salted. (I used to eat this… don’t ask)