#man he tastes like crab and chicken

[liqu3d]

Funny thing I draw for a conversation I have with my moot on twitter

[wife-of-all-dilfs]

hungry eyes | f. odair

masterlist

summary: finnick is a great cook, and a chef must taste-test all his meals, mustn’t he? including you.

pairing: finnick odair x fem!reader

warnings: smut, oral (fem receiving), finnick is a munch and a thigh man, praise, swearing, cum swallowing, fingering

notes: i’m so sorry about the long-writing-time-to-short-word-count ratio. i don’t know if i like this ahhh. lmk what y’all think <3

word count: 3.5k

You were passing through the entry room of your house when the front door opened with a slight creak. Stepping through the doorway was Finnick, dressed in a white billowy Henley shirt (he had a few buttons purposely left open and the sleeves were rolled to his elbows) and a pair of dark grey pants. 

His hair was a windswept mess of bronze waves with different strands poking out in various directions, but he somehow made it work. He looked… 

Wow. 

You, on the other hand, were still in your pyjamas, wearing a pair of thin cotton shorts and cosy thigh-high socks. 

As soon as he entered the house, you could tell what kind of mood he was in. Drained. That tended to happen whenever he had to spend the day with his prep team and prepare for an upcoming event in the Capitol. 

His cheerless eyes found yours and you swore a spark of life flickered in them.

“Hey, Finn,” you said. “Are y—oh!” 

Before you could finish, he had wordlessly stepped towards you and collected you in his arms. Your feet left the ground as he picked you up and continued walking further into the house.

“What are you doing?” you gasped.

Your legs curled around his back, your body leaning into his chest so as not to fall backwards. He smelled really nice, like how you imagined sunlight hitting the sea on a warm summer’s day would smell. 

“Making something to eat,” he finally spoke. His eyes briefly flickered to yours. “I’m hungry.”

Well, you did send him off that morning with some of last night’s leftover crab cakes, so he couldn’t have been that hungry. Plus, he was with his prep team. They would’ve had plenty of fancy Capitol-esque food on hand to satiate him.

Weird.

“So that means I don’t get a hello?” you teased.

Finally, a small smile worked its way onto his lips. He leaned forward and pressed his lips sweetly and softly to your own, his hands not-so-sweetly squeezing the plush of your ass as he did.

He pulled back and gave you a mischievous look. “Hi, sweetheart.”

You smiled bashfully in response. “Hi.”

You had passed through the archway into the kitchen, the entire room now being bathed in sunlight from the four o’clock sun. It was the picture of a perfect beach house—driftwood and seashell ornaments, sand-coloured benchtops, and large wooden-framed bay windows.

Finnick set you down on the counter facing the stove, your legs now dangling over the edge. 

“You just had to bring me into the kitchen with you?” you asked.

He was already out of your arms, scouring the cupboards for various ingredients for whatever it was he was planning to cook up. 

“Gotta have something pretty to look at,” he said, throwing a wink over his shoulder.

Warmth crept into your cheeks. “Right. Obviously.”

A comfortable silence settled between you, apart from the clatter of a metal pot being set on the stove and the splashing of various vegetables and chicken stock being thrown into boiling water. Your legs swung lightly as you watched Finnick in quiet admiration. 

Steam wafted into the air, bringing with it a sweet herbaceous smell. You hated to admit it, but Finnick was an unbelievable cook; much better than you were. He was constantly offering to teach you his culinary skills which often led to the two of you spending hours together in the kitchen. Burnt and over-salted meals were a common result. Regardless, you enjoyed the time together.

Sometimes it even led to other things as well… things very unrelated to cooking.

Finnick seemed to hyper-focused on the soup he was stirring; he was being unusually quiet, making you wonder what was going on inside his head. Had something happened during the time he was away?

“How’d you go today?” you asked.

He shrugged his shoulders, humming a vague response.

“Mm,” you copied, wearing a teasing smile.

He shot you a playful look over his shoulder. Then he did something weird. 

His head turned again, and he gave you a double-take, eyes falling from your face and to your legs. Your pyjama shorts had ridden up to the crease where your legs and hips connected, and your thighs were squished together on the counter, the cuff of your thigh-high socks digging into the soft flesh. His eyes flickered to yours once more before he turned back around.

Very weird.

An unexpected wave of goosebumps travelled down your entire body. You swallowed nervously and averted your eyes to your lap. It was absurd how a single look from him could cause you to react so strongly. He had so much power over you.

You crossed your legs, palms flat against the bench top on either side of you for support. The entire room was filled with the sweet aroma of the broth Finnick had made, causing your mouth to water from the mere thought of the warm liquid soaking into your tongue.

He lifted the pot from the stove and turned it off, scooping the contents into two bowls. However, when he turned around and walked over to you, he was only holding one.

“Just glad to be home with you,” he said and offered you the bowl.

“Oh, thank you,” you said, taking it into your hands.

The bowl was hot against your palms and fingertips, almost burning right down into your bloodstream as the golden liquid wafted steam into your face. Finnick’s gaze followed your movements as you lifted the spoon to your lips and finally felt the delicious heat seep into your tastebuds. 

Your eyes fluttered shut as you hummed a noise of pleasure, already craving another spoonful. “Tastes really good.” 

“Yeah?” He tilted his head.

Finnick was gently lifting one of your legs into his hands, massaging your calf through the cotton of your socks. His hand wandered down to your ankle, stroking over it with an affectionate touch before gliding back up to the underside of your knee. You had hardly noticed his affectionate behaviour, too distracted by the vibrant tastes filling your mouth. 

“Aren’t you gonna eat?” you asked half-heartedly, focused on getting another mouthful in.

“Sure am,” he murmured.

Selfishly, you paid his words no mind even though you really should have. You had just lowered the spoon back into the bowl, watching the soup cover the metal when suddenly, your leg was being lifted over the other. 

Now this got your attention.

You swallowed the warm liquid, eyes looking up at him in confusion. He uncrossed your legs, nudging them open with his hands on your inner thighs before he positioned himself between them. Your thighs were now hugging either side of his hips, your grip on the bowl frozen with uncertainty. 

“What are you…?” you began, but then he was gently taking the bowl and spoon out of your hands and placing them on the bench beside you.

“Told you I’m hungry, sweetheart,” he said. He placed his hands on either side of you, leaning in until your faces were inches apart. “Been waiting all day to see you. And these socks…” he trailed off with a sigh, sliding his fingers just beneath the band digging softly into your thigh before letting it snap back in place. “Well, now I’m practically starving.”

You stared at him, eyes wide and mouth agape. God, you were already breathless. 

“Oh,” you whispered.

He bit his bottom lip and kept lowering his gaze to your mouth, looking at you as if you were a grand three-course meal and he was on death row. 

“I just need a taste,” he spoke almost pleadingly. “Will you let me?”

Not a single neuron in your brain was firing at that moment. With the way he was staring at you, how gorgeous helooked, and the fact that he was practically begging to be between your thighs, it was almost impossible to say no. It was also impossible for you to verbalise it as well.

“Please, baby. You’ll let me, won’t you?” he pleaded.

The growing desperation in his voice had you sinking your hips into the counter, feeling yourself begin to ache for him. Of course, as you did this your thighs grew expanded even wider from the pressure and Finnick seemed to like that very much. You could tell from the way his cock left a large print across the front of his pants.

You nodded, speechless.

“You will?” His hands found the sides of your thighs. “Good.” 

Within seconds, he had dragged your body to the edge and collided your pelvis with his. He felt as hard as he looked. You gasped at his eagerness but were immediately cut off by his lips crushing against your own, leading you into a kiss that mirrored the hunger he must have been feeling inside all day. 

His hand moved into your hair, holding you with a firm yet gentle grip. He was leaning into you, moving his lips so assertively that your body had to lean back to get a sliver of respite. You were buzzing with anticipation like electric currents were moving through your veins. If he was kissing you like this, what would it be like when his lips were further below?

He then pulled away to observe you. 

“My beautiful, beautiful girl,” he whispered, gently smoothing the hair beside your face.

You leaned into his touch, enjoying the brief tender moment. Your hand moved onto his and gently squeezed as you looked up at him, gaze doe-eyed and full of false naivety. You knew you were only spurring him on.

“You’re perfect, you know that?” he said before pressing another peck to your lips. Then he started to go lower. First, he kissed the length of your neck and then the skin above your breasts exposed by your low-cut shirt. “Perfect eyes, perfect lips, perfect thighs.”

He was crouching now, trailing kisses down your stomach which had your fingers weaving into his hair. The descension halted at your upper thighs. His lips left a warm tingling sensation that spread across your skin with each tender touch. You watched him begin moving higher, entering a dangerous region of your inner thighs with lips that were trademarked for trouble. 

The air in your lungs was in short supply now.

“Just so sweet and so…” His fingers slipped into your waistband and pulled your shorts down your legs. The fabric fell from your ankles and there you sat, your glistening cunt bare and reflecting in Finnick’s green eyes. “So wet.”

Feeling nervous due to his penetrative stare, you attempted to conceal yourself and began closing your legs. He tsked and forced them open with two sturdy hands. He continued marvelling at the slick that coated your folds, committing the image to his mind.

“So perfect,” he exhaled.

You were getting impatient now.

“Finnick,” you whined. “Please. Just… Just do some—" 

You inhaled sharply. He had rushed forward and finally connected his warm mouth to your cunt. 

High-pitched breathless moans were already spilling from your lips as his harsh tongue delved between your folds, lapping up the arousal that had leaked out. Your body was restless, which was evident from the way your fingers pulled at his hair, hips bucked into his mouth, and thighs clenched around his head. 

Hunger and starvationwere not the right terms to describe how he was acting. Not at all.

He was insatiable.

Finnick’s shoulders slid beneath your thighs, forcing your legs to dangle over them. His arms were curled around your legs while his hands kept your legs clamped open from the top of your thighs. He suctioned his lips around your clit, the sensitive flesh growing more swollen as the pressure he applied increased.

You placed a hand on the counter behind you to keep yourself steady, keeping the other hand buried in his golden waves. Your head fell back with a loud moan. He was shaking his head side-to-side in a manner that could only be deemed as animalistic. He was eating you out like a fucking animal. Like he was a predator, and this was his kill. 

“Oh, my god!” you cried out.

He moaned into your pussy, tongue dragging from your opening and back to your clit, savouring every ounce of sweetness he could pull from you. A dull pain was coming from your upper thighs and you quickly realised Finnick’s fingers were digging into your skin. Each time your thighs tried to shut, his fingers buried deeper into your flesh. And mixed with the feeling of his tongue lapping you up, it felt rapturously overwhelming.

His tongue began flicking your clit at such rapid speeds that you weren’t even sure a vibrator could replicate it. You were now pulling, no, yanking at his hair all the while your hips were moving closer to his face. The pleasure was so devastating even your body wasn’t sure what to do with itself.

“Fuck, sweetheart,” his hoarse voice vibrated against your clit, “y’gotta strong grip.” 

Your chest heaved as you looked down at him. “Finn, don’t stop.” 

And of course, he pulled back an inch to look up at you. The sight of him between your legs was fucking glorious. A mix of your juices and spit was dribbling down his chin, coating his lips in a shine you wanted to taste. His hair was dishevelled in a way you could only describe as a sex-crazed mess. Oh, and the way his blown-wide pupils were looking at you… like he had a whim to devour you whole right then and there.

“Stop? Who said I was ever going to stop?” He smirked.

Then he leaned in and fell back into his previous rhythm. The heels of your feet dug into his back. He was essentially making out your cunt. His tongue was swirling around your clit and kissing it sweetly, as if doing so offered you any reprieve from the exquisite torment he was inducing. Your stomach muscles were aching in the most pleasurable way, sending signals of pure arousal to your brain that made you feel intoxicated.

“Like fucking sugar,” his voice muffled into you. 

He tongued your entrance, forcing as much as he could inside you. Your walls fluttered with warmth around him and you let out a needy little whine. He flicked his tongue upwards inside you as he slid in and out, thick eyebrows scrunched together as he moaned at your taste soaking into his tastebuds.  

One of his arms unravelled from your thigh and his tongue retracted from inside you. You whimpered in displeasure, only to gasp as something longer immediately replaced his tongue. Finnick’s mouth was entirely focused on suckling your clit, meanwhile, the two fingers he had slid inside you were focused on pushing your body over the edge.

“Fuck,” you breathed heavily. “Fuck. Oh, f—ah!”

The pads of his fingertips pressed into that swollen spot deep inside you, knuckles prodding your walls as he curled his fingers. He was wildly flicking his tongue over your clit with the added help of his head shaking side-to-side.

You were writhing. Your body had never known such powerful sensations before meeting Finnick. Even after all the time you had been together, you were still trying to get accustomed to how intensely he made you feel. Given that information, you could feel your orgasm rocketing from deep within and to the surface. Flames licked at the muscles in your stomach, spreading like wildfire from your clit.

Finnick looked up at you, and you looked down at him. Look how good I make you feel, his cocky eyes spoke. Your parted lips were dark, flushed with heat and arousal, letting each and every debauched sound echo around the ceramic-tiled room. He plunged his fingers inside you again and your head fell back. You knew he was laughing. You could feel it.

The noises filling the room were pure sex. The sound of Finnick’s fingers squelching inside you, of him sucking and lapping at your pussy, and your whiny half-crazed moans—they were all that could be heard. And then suddenly your body started tensing.

“I’m so close,” you panted. “Finn, I’m—I’m—Fuck!”

And there it was.

Finnick didn’t stop. Hell, he somehow even managed to pick up his pace.

Your thighs clamped harshly around his head; this would’ve worried you if your brain actually had a single thought running through it. Shockwaves of bliss crashed over your body; they consumed you. Your moans came out as choked noises and filthy gratified cries of Finnick’s name as he sucked and curled his fingers in and out. 

You felt him speaking, most likely words of praise to talk you through your high, but you couldn’t hear. White noise buzzed in your ears. Part of you could feel him collecting your juices with his tongue as the built-up tension gushed from your cunt. The other part of you was gone.

At least for a brief period.

When you came back to reality, Finnick was starting to stand back up. His hands were holding both your thighs, keeping them from violently trembling. You stared at him, waiting for the spots in your vision to disappear and the buzzing in your ears to settle. There was nothing you could do about the liquid seeping onto the bench top.

He surveyed your dazed expression, mild concern etched into his features as his eyes flickered between your own. His hand gently cupped the side of your face. 

“You here?” he asked, lightly dragging his thumb down your lower lip.

Sweetness coated the tip of your tongue as you licked your bottom lip. Well, no wonder he enjoyed doing that so much. You tasted really… good.

“I’m okay,” you whispered.

He gave you this beautiful dimpled smile, and he dropped his hand once more. His eyes were on yours, gleaming with mischief as he dragged two fingers up your folds, glazing them in a white shine. You were so sensitive that your hips jerked forward at the light contact, causing him to chuckle softly.

You watched as he lifted his fingers to his lips and within milliseconds, you were reaching out to stop him.

His fingers were so thick and long, and with your arousal coating them, it was damn near impossible to deny yourself the pleasure of having a little taste as well. So, with two hands holding his palm, you guided his fingers towards you. 

You eyed the liquid for a moment, hesitated, and then licked a long strip from the base of his forefinger and up to his fingertip. Then, closing your eyes, you wrapped your lips around the length and began sucking. It was a potent taste, both overpowering and lingering. Not bad though. You moved onto his middle finger, this time keeping your eyes on Finnick as you sucked it clean.

His expression reflected something of astonishment, letting out a perplexed chuckle as he watched. With a wet pop, his fingers were out of your mouth. You were holding his large palm and pressing a soft kiss to each of his fingertips, a tender and affectionate gesture compared to the act you just pulled.

Finnick shook his head at you, wearing a disbelieving smile.

“What?” you asked, feigning innocence. 

“What,” he echoed your response under his breath. He grabbed your chin, leaning down until you were face-to-face. “You play a dangerous game, sweetheart.”

Then his lips were on yours and when his tongue slipped into your mouth, all that could be tasted was you. That previous animalistic air about him had dissipated; he was gentler now, kissing you in a way that was adoring rather than bordering primal. Not that you had been complaining.

His pelvis was pressed against yours. More accurately, his cock was pressed against your pelvis. Whoever made his pants must have used strong threading. He was so hard that you were surprised the seams hadn’t ripped apart and exposed him altogether. You were surprised but also thankful because undoing his pants was your job. 

Your hands moved to his chest and pushed him backwards. His lips left yours with a displeased grunt. 

“Oh, don’t you worry, Finn,” you said, your hands trickling down his torso. “I’ve worked up an appetite myself as well.”

He looked down at you, eyes oozing with seduction. “Really?”

“Mhm.”

You slid off the counter, feeling his erection glide over your body. The fragrant smell of marinated vegetables and chicken still lingered in the room. You should have felt disheartened about not finishing the mouth-watering soup Finnick had made—or perhaps even the entire pot. But as you sank to your knees and began unbuttoning his pants, you realised there was one thing that was a great deal more appetising. 

Peering up at him through your lashes, you saw him looking down at you with a lazy smirk. 

Your lips stretched into a sinful smile. “My turn.”

[cevansbrat0007]

Forgive me Britt, but i cant get this filth thought out of my mind-- Andy fingering a needy Baby Girl at some outdoor dinner. I just need him fingering her someplace risky, under the table

Helping Hands

Summary: Andy helps you relieve some tension while out on date night...

Warnings: Mature Themes, Smut, Andrew Barber Being A Menace, Fingering, Manhandling, Semi-Public Sex, Daddy Kink, Reference to Oral Sex, Cursing, Minors DNI

A/N: Prompt brought to you courtesy of a Reader Request. This fic features Andrew Barber from my Growing Pains Series. Semi-proofread, not beta'd. All mistakes are my own. Likes, comments, and reblogs are always appreciated. Thanks for reading!

“What has gotten into you?” Stifling a giggle as you push your boyfriend away when he attempts to whisper more kisses behind your ear. He was definitely in rare form tonight, and he was only on his first glass of bourbon. 

“It’s been three days.” Andy murmurs, toying with one of your curls. “Three whole fucking days since I’ve seen my baby girl.”

“Well, you’re acting like it’s been forever.” You pick up your menu, intending to finally decide on a cocktail only to hit him with it when he starts up again. “Behave.”

“Are you seriously telling me you didn’t miss me?” He smooths your curls away from your nape before burying his face in the crook of your neck. “Because I missed you.” While his words come out muffled, you can’t help but shiver at the gentle graze of his teeth along your sensitive flesh. “So much.”

“Omigosh!” You quickly jerk away when you spot your waitress making her way towards you. “Would you – Andrew –  we are in public!” Smiling, you try to right your appearance by smoothing your hands over your skirt.

“Mmhm…” More heated kisses from him elicit more sweet giggles from you. “Why do you think I requested a table in the back?”

Andy’s free hand goes to settle on your waist, effortlessly pulling you closer to him just in time for your server to reach your table. 

“Hey there!” The charismatic brunette chirps, tapping her pen against her notepad. You were pretty certain her name was Paula. “Did you decide on your drink yet? Or can I get you started on some appetizers?” 

“I think I’ll go with the pomegranate martini. As for appetizers…” You cast a sideways glance at your boyfriend who is now making a concerted effort to look innocent while examining his own menu. “I think we’re still deciding. Any recommendations?” 

“Ooh. Good question!” The woman takes a moment to think. “The house-made nachos are always a hit, as are the pan fried oysters, and people love our sweet, gingered chicken wings. But my personal favorite would probably have to be…the herb crusted crab cakes served with our house-made remoulade.”

“Oh yeah? Any of those sound good to you, Big Man?” You rest your chin on his shoulder while you wait for him to make a decision. 

“Eh, I think I’m still gonna need a minute. But I will take another bourbon when you bring out her martini.” 

“You’ve got it! Still sticking with Bulleit?” 

“Yep. Appreciate it.” He winks at your waitress before sending her on her way, which allows him to turn his attention back to you. 

You’re grateful when you receive your drink in what feels like record time. “I did miss you.” You reassure your man after taking your first sip. Cupping his jaw, you lean up to brush your mouth over his own. You moan softly when you feel his lips curve, letting you know just how much he appreciates your show of affection. 

“Fuck, how do you always manage to taste so sweet?” He murmurs, more to himself than to you.  

“It’s the drink, honey.”

“Nah, baby girl. I’m pretty sure it’s all you.” Still grinning, you don’t stop him when he decides to adjust your positions so that you’re now sitting between his thickly muscled thighs as you both rest on the bench. “Tell me about your day. Catch me up.”

“It was pretty boring to be honest.” You offer him a taste of your martini which he declines. “I’m still working on the media plan for that one bakery’s grand opening. It should’ve been done last week, but the owner keeps changing her mind on a few key aspects.”

“Mm.” Andy presses a kiss against your bare shoulder. “You think Sugar & Spice is ever gonna open?”

“Some days I wonder. But that’s really it. Oh, and my boss told me to expect a new account to land on my desk tomorrow. So there’s that too.”

“How many accounts does that make you responsible for now?”

Too many. Although you’re pretty loath to admit it to anyone else but him.

“I can manage it.” You tell him, not missing the way his fingers are skimming along the inside of your thigh, beneath your flimsy little skirt. “You know my boss –”

“Can be an asshole.” Andy finishes for you, just he reaches your clit. He strums his thick fingers over the sensitive bundle of nerves, delighting in the tiny whine that gets stuck in your throat. “Have you noticed how tense you seem to get whenever you talk about the prick?”

“Y–yeah.” Instinctively, you try to squirm away, only for you to belatedly realize that you’re pretty much trapped. It’s obvious that your man has you right where he wants you. And he has no intentions of letting you go anytime soon.

After all, wasn’t this why he’d chosen a seat in the back? And between the dim lighting and the setting of the sun, he was probably rather confident that nobody would notice a damn thing. 

“Don’t, baby. Someone’s gonna see us...ooh…” You allow your head to loll back against one of Andy’s broad shoulders as he grows increasingly more bold.

“Now, do you really think I’d let that happen? You really think I’d ever let someone else – a stranger – see you like this?” 

Oh God, his touch feels so good. You’d missed it – missed him – over these last several days. Which let you know that you were becoming equally as codependent as he was. 

“No.” Your eyes threaten to roll back in your head as those same wicked fingers dip beneath the fabric of your soaked panties. 

They glide through your wetness, reveling in your slick, tight heat. Andy groans in disapproval when your thighs clench together, making it more difficult for him to have his way with you.   

“C’mon, princess. Be a good girl and let me in.” 

“Andy…” 

Your breathy little moan is like music to this man’s ears. You know it, and so does he.

“I’m just trying to help you relax.” He purrs, nipping at your ear with his sharp teeth. “That’s all. Relieve some of this built up tension.”  

“One of these days, you’re gonna have to learn how to keep your hands to yourself.” You warn, even as a familiar warmth pools in your belly the longer he plays with your traitorous pussy.. 

But Andy doesn’t stop. Instead, you’re treated to the erotic sensation of his palm grinding against your swollen bud while his index and middle fingers continue their intimate exploration. 

“Someone…someone’s gonna see.” 

However, even though you protest, there’s also a small part of you that finds the idea of potentially being watched to be rather…titillating. You gush around him as he grips you tighter, subtly thrusting his impressive erection against the small of your back. 

“Just give me one good one.” Comes Andy’s sensual rumble. “Just one good one for Daddy and I promise we’ll save the rest for tonight when I’ve got you back at my place, in my goddamned bed, where you belong.” 

It was moments like this that had you seriously convinced that you were going to end up moving-in with this man sooner rather than later. A fact that no longer scared you as much as it once did. 

“Please…Andy…” Your thighs begin to shake as you feel that coil tighten in your belly, threatening to snap in favor of pleasure so exquisite you’re all but guaranteed to see stars.

“What’s my name?” He picks up his pace, those dangerous fingers pumping in and out of your silky heat with expert precision. Each turn, each flick of his wrist threatens to be your undoing. 

“My…yes, please!”

“Say it.” Andy’s voice drops an octave as you continue to writhe beneath his careful ministrations.

“Let me – oh shit, Daddy!” The words come on the heels of a breathless sob. “Please lemme cum.”

This proves to be exactly what your boyfriend wants to hear. And you know this because swiftly adjusts his movements so that he can reach that special place inside you, the one that usually has you speaking in tongues when it’s just you and him behind closed doors. 

“Fuckin’ do it, princess.” He snarls, burying his face once more in the crook of your neck. “Soak me. Give me something sweet to get me through the rest of this dinner.” 

“Ooh!Yes!Yes!Yes!”

Unable to help yourself, you finally do as he asks. But thankfully, Andy has enough sense to capture your mouth and swallow the scream that is only mere seconds from escaping your throat. Literal sparks dance behind your eyes as wave after wave of delicious-feeling pleasure crashes over you. 

“Drench me, sweetness. Atta girl.”

The obvious pride in his voice has you clenching your walls around him in silent askance for more. And you can’t help but whimper when he removes his fingers from your heat, leaving you feeling empty. At this point, you would even be willing to get your food to-go if it meant getting another a taste of how good he’d just made you feel on a fucking wooden bench in the back of this gorgeous, but thankfully dimly lit, restaurant. 

Your body gives an involuntary shudder when you watch Andy raise his wet fingers to his full lips before sucking them into his mouth. He moans as your own sweet, earthy flavor comes alive on his tongue.

A promise of what was to come. 

‘That was…wow.” It takes you a second to actually catch your breath, but it does nothing to still the heart that is currently hammering in your chest. “I can’t believe we just…”

“Shh.” He murmurs, pressing a soft kiss just behind your ear. It was his favorite place to kiss you, other than…well…you know. “Here comes our waitress.”

“Hiya!” Paula chirps before catching sight of your only half drunk drink. “Aww. Not a fan of the pomegranate martini?” 

“It’s delicious.” You rasp, still finding your voice as Andy continues to hold you close. “We’ve just been doing a lot of…”

“Talking.” Your boyfriend chimes helpfully.

“So much talking.” You agree, not the least bit ashamed of the lazy smile that ghosts your lips. “But I will take another. You good with your bourbon, babe?”

“So good.” Your smile only widens when you feel him press a kiss against your damp brow.

“Wonderful.” She jots down a note on her pad of paper. “And did we manage to decide on an appetizer?” 

“Oh yeah.” One of his brawny arms encircles your waist. “We’ll take the crab cakes.”

“Excellent choice.” She beams, again jotting another note. “And for your mains?” 

You and Andy exchange covert glances, neither one of you feeling the least bit ashamed at your supposed indecisiveness. 

“Sorry…but we’re gonna need another minute.”

END

[mariacallous]

I’m not even sure whether I can taste pure Old Bay anymore, because the condiment is infused with so many memories of home. I grew up sprinkling it on everything—blue crabs, sure, but also watermelon, mashed potatoes, macaroni and cheese—and I can shuffle through decades of pictures from family reunions, county fairs, church picnics, and back porches where the iconic yellow, red, and blue tins keep popping up like someone’s second cousin, not quite front and center yet always in the frame.

If you’re new to Old Bay, get a tin and shake the contents liberally on popcorn or potato chips—a starter dish, from which you can and should expand. You’ll soon find that you can add the condiment to almost anything. One of my favorite dishes that uses Old Bay as an essential ingredient comes via an old family friend. Keith Davis is a Jack-of-all-trades: a fantastic general contractor, but also a church usher, a builder of wheelchair ramps, a Santa Claus when seasonally necessary, and, lately, a food-truck entrepreneur, grilling burgers and deep-frying funnel cakes for every community event and private party in the area. He goes by Mr. Keith; his food truck is known as Fat Boy’s Fixins, named in honor of the man who taught him to grill and whose Santa suit he inherited.

Of all the things Davis serves up, he might be best known for his crab soup, which he makes in ten-gallon batches and lets the local Ruritan Club sell by the pint every fall at the Waterfowl Festival, when somewhere between fourteen thousand and twenty thousand people descend on the Eastern Shore to see the work of hundreds of decoy carvers and local artists, listen to waterfowl-calling contests, and watch demonstrations of dock dogs, raptors, and fly-fishing. Davis is there every year, gossiping with his fellow-volunteers, talking with out-of-towners, and tossing hunks of crab meat into stew pots. Normally you’d have to shell out eight dollars for even just a cup, but here, exclusively for newsletter readers, free of charge, is the best crab soup you’ll ever taste, a shockingly easy, practically pre-made recipe for trying out America’s greatest condiment: Old Bay.

Mr. Keith’s Crab Soup

1 lb. crab meat (claw meat best) 64-Oz. bottle of Spicy V8 14.5 Oz. chicken broth 32 Oz. water 1 lb. mixed vegetables 1 Tbsp. Montreal Steak seasoning 1 Tbsp. Old Bay

Mix the V8, chicken broth, and water in a pot. Start heating the mixture, then add the vegetables, then the crab meat, and finally the spices. Cook on medium heat until the vegetables start to soften, stirring occasionally “so it doesn’t stick and burn on the bottom of the pot.”

[writing-kiki]

Steddie G for the prompt Octopus from the Stranger Things Writer's Guild discord

"Come on Steve, you're the one who said we should have a pool party, so get in the pool!" They'd been pestering him all morning though most of them had given up by now, but of course, Dustin. It was getting harder and harder to make excuses for avoiding joining them all but he just. Couldn't. Take him to the beach any day and he'd be fine, Lover's Lake? No problem, even after being dragged backwards through the gate to be delivered for bat chow, but something about the smell and taste of the chlorine haunted him.

Or, well the chlorine itself wasn't the ghost keeping him from the water, no, that was Barb, or maybe his own guilt. He'd spent too many nights sitting by this pool and staring right into the water thinking about her, about everything he could and should have done differently, with the smell of chlorine in the air a chemical taste at the back of his tongue. It all began that night, even if he didn't know it at the time, and somewhere along the way the pool had become an insurmountable beast he could no longer tackle.

"Yeah I said you should have a pool party Henderson, so get back to it." The rest of the kids heckle him, booing from their positions scattered around the edges, but Eddie is silent from his place starfished in the middle, head turned towards Steve and face speculative. He's been looking at Steve like that all morning, really looking at him in that way he does that feels like he's looking right through to their insides.

Steve's not sure how to feel about it when he suddenly looks like he's figured something out, is still staring at him when Dustin continues after slapping petulantly at the surface of the water.

"You're always going on about how you were captain of the swim team and a lifeguard, and how well you can swim, so show us." And Steve, he doesn't like disappointing the kids, is the thing, no matter how much he plays at being the begrudging babysitter. He attempts to steel himself, to use the low simmering discomfort of hypervigilance that's sent adrenaline surging through him all day at being in such close proximity, but it just doesn't work, doesn't suddenly allow him to unlock his limbs and just climb in.

"Maybe later, Dustin," he forces out after standing still for what is probably an embarrassingly long time, cursing himself in his head. "Someone has to get lunch started for all of you before your appetites get out of control."

"Big word for someone too scared to get his hair wet. Come on, just-" Dustin suddenly dips underwater, comes up coughing and spluttering a second later, Eddie popping up behind him like a particularly smug avenging angel.

"Stop bothering your babysitter, Dusty-Buns," he says, only his head visible where he's bobbing in the water, hair spread in a halo of twisting tendrils around him like the tentacles of an octopus. "We're setting up for chicken."

They're not, they haven't, but as far as distractions go Steve will take it.

"But that's just even more reason for Steve to-" Eddie disappears, curls trailing after him in the water, Dustin follows a second later with a yell that's cut off by the water and continues as he resurfaces. "Eddie why."

"You gotta learn to let things go man," he flicks Dustin in the forehead, "I'm helping you learn a valuable lesson." He pauses, hands out in front of him making a grabby motion that remind Steve of crab claws, "now, are we leaving Steve alone, ooooor?"

He drags the word out, a question, while making little pinches with his hands towards Dustin. He balks, backing up towards the rest of the kids looking betrayed.

"Fine, we just wanted-" he recoils at a particularly aggressive snap of Eddie's hand, tone changing quickly, "cool, I'm gonna go set up for chicken. Yay."

Eddie bobs his way over to the edge of the pool, resting his elbows on the ground, chin on his hands, smiling up at Steve like one of those little angel babies on Christmas cards.

Eddie is far from an angel though, closer to the little devil on Steve's shoulder, trying to tempt him into whicked things.

"You good, Stevie?" He watches a drop of water roll it's way down Eddie's skin, glancing at Eddie's smirk before meeting his eyes again. Yeah he's definitely good, he thinks he says as much, but he's too transfixed to pay too much attention to whatever just came out off his mouth.

Their eye contact lingers, something charged and heated about it, until Dustin yelling breaks the moment.

"Eddie you're the one who wanted to play so hurry up." They roll their eyes, practically in sync.

"Att-it-ude~" Eddie sing songs before pushing himself off the pool ledge, backing away from Steve slowly and not turning until he's most of the way across.

"Hey Eddie," Steve calls out, waiting for Eddie's eyes to find him again before he adds, "thanks."

Eddie winks, and Steve can't hide his smile.

Yeah, he's definitely, definitely, good.

(This might end up on ao3 idk we'll see if I remember to add the link if I do)

[ril-sillyart1st]

What's everyone in your BATMM AU's favorite food?

Great question! (Finally someone ask me about their favorite stuff) I also included my OCs and put the gang's least favorite food as well.

(note: some are based on what I like and dislike)

Flarelyn Family AU:

★ Blaze just loves chocolate truffles but only gets to eat it once because it's such an special treat for him to eat as she may not self control themselves and hates spicy food (man can eat it whatever he wants but he's not a fan of it for some reason.)

★ Crusher really fw seafood especially that has soup on it (specifically sushi). Also Crusher also fw with spicy noodles.

Crusher doesn't like other spicy food in general and pickles.

★ Fiar loves the Mac-And-Cheese and Strawberry Lemonade combo. She made this combo by herself when she was making herself strawberry lemonade while Crusher was making Mac And Cheese for her.

Fiar hates spicy food, banana and avocado. She will only eat the banana if it is a banana split or covered in chocolate and sprinkles.

(don't ask me why the FF hates spicy food, they're an sweet tooth family)

★ Pickle is very much obviously enough, usually doesn't have a least favorite other than non-edible food.

★ Watts fw Ube Grilled Cheese! (Watts just loves ube flavored food) and she also likes Siopao (especially the toasted one! That sh🫧t is really good. /Gen)

Watts doesn't like spaghetti that much anymore (specifically the Filipino one) because of how many times she ate at events her parents go to. (Me moment)

★ Starla likes spaghetti and meatballs but she doesn't like bacon and other beefy stuff.

★ Darington likes waffles for breakfast with blueberries and whip cream on top of it. They for some reason don't like pancakes. They also love star shaped chicken nuggets.

★ Stripes likes spicy chicken with sliced tomatoes and potatoes on it. (Btw it's cooked! He doesn't like the taste of raw chicken) Also Stripes doesn't like sweet food especially cake.

★ Zeg has an very old memory when his mother used to baked him Apple raspberry pie every Christmas. Good memories, he still makes his own Apple raspberry pie every Christmas and shared it to his friends. (Btw Zeg can't cook but he can bake for some reason.)

Zeg doesn't like bananas because it tastes kinda plain to him.

★ Onyx both liked Jello Cake and Crabs but Crabs would be their no. 1 favorite food. They like the classic version of Jello Cake the most, classic version is would describe as "salty yet sweet".

Onyx hates Shrimp because she's allergic to it (me moment.)

★ Mia also likes Jello Cake but specifically vanilla flavor, very creamy and sweet. Seaweed spaghetti would be her no. 1 favorite food. Mia doesn't have any least favorite food as for now.

★ Kizzie and Veronica likes strawberry smoothie!

Veronica doesn't like vanilla ice cream. While Kizzie doesn't like chocolate ice cream.

★ Fuchsia likes mint chocolate chip ice cream and hates pumpkin pie.

★ Scarlett doesn't have any favorite or least favorite for now.

Blaze And The Rusty Machines AU:

★ Blaze likes to eat flowers (yes this man is so f🌊ck🫧d up) after he's at stage 3 with his sanity getting worse. He only likes it when it was bought from the flower shop instead of the garden because of the dirt.

★ Crusher in the other hand hates eating flowers. He likes chocolate cherry ice cream.

[chiapurin]

answering this in one go because i cannot sleep

1. stats

cw: 66.5kg/146.7lb (18/10)

sw: 68.3kg/150lb

hw: 78kg/172lb

lw: 52kg/114lb

2. height, do you like your height?

im 166cm/5'4 and yes because im considered taller than average in my country

3. ugw, why this number?

49kg/108lb because that's the weight of jake in miss peregrine and i want to look like him

4. biggest fear about weight loss?

gaining it all back (i've done that)

5. why do you really want to lose weight?

i looked better at a lower weight, felt better too. alsp im going to japan this december and i need to look good in my pics

6. do you ever binge? why do you think so?

yes, because i genuinely love food (im a chronic overeater, been doing that as long as i have lived). but the point that i knew i Binged instead of just overeating is when i was in my first depressive episode

7. do your parents know about your issues with food?

my mom: yes. she knows that i either restrict or overeat lmao, she also caught me pūrging

ny dad: idk to be honest. i did cry and had a break down in the car after eating crab ramen, but i think he's kinda dense and just thinks im on a diet

8. workout routine

i don't have one, rn i just try to have 1100c deficit daily. when i do have to workout, i do l1dia m3ra's 10 mins abs and m0momi's 4 mins slim leg. or i jog and walk for 45 mins

9. were negative things ever said about your weight?

hell yeah i was bullied in elementary school

10. what was the hardest thing you gave up to lose weight?

snacking at 11pm and having snacks after a huge meal

11. fav th1nspo blog, why?

don't have one, but i do like @/xiaospo on twt

12. what do you normally eat?

i've been eating air fried potatoes every other day. steamed fish, stir-fried veggies, grilled chicken, clear soup

13. safe food and why?

- sugar free fisherman's friend choco and salted caramel candy: it's 0 c4ls

- air fried potatoes, kimchi, danmuji, canned tuna, most veggies, apples, pineapples: low c4l and taste good

14. fav thinspo photo and why?

she just look so perfect, i mean look at her.. same height as me, though she's bmi 15

15. fear food, why are these scary?

noodles, i love noodles so it's very Easy for me to overeat them. a serving of local noodles is 400c+! pizza and pasta too, Way too high c4l and i can't make a low c4l version of them

16. how long have you struggle with this?

august 2022 i guess (been overeating since like. Forever)

17. are you diagnosed with an 3d?

no but i have had episodes of restricting, binge eating, vom pūrging, exercise pūrging. so maybe osfed/ednos?

18. what food is your weakness?

any food when im hungry tbh

20. what started your issue with food?

1st depressive episode where i barely leave my room and would omad vending machine snacks at 11pm, or cook up double portion chilli oil noodles.

21. have your pūrged?

yup both methods too

22. fav things about your 3d

makes me sk1nny and gives me superiority complex

23. least fav things about your 3d

can't eat whatever i want, Always c4l counting

24. do you have other mental illnesses? do you think they contribute to your 3d?

im not dxed of depression and anxiety. but basically during my 1st depressive episode, i omad because i was too scared of other people looking at me when i eat/cook. i also eat when im depressed! so i's say yeah. though lately im trying to cope with other things

25. fav motivating shows/movies

h0use md because the eps were filmed before 2010s so everyone was real sk1nny. and also miss p3regrine because of her calculation on jake's speed to reach her sanctuary

26. do you have rules for eating?

i guess so? i ALWAYS count my c4l, even when i binge (i'd guesstimate it). i also avoid fried foods and only eat them when the social situation requires me to

27. do you ever see yourself recovering?

not really. even when i reach my ugw, i still have to restrict because if not i'd overeat my way to my sw

28. what is your ed driven by?

earlier this month it was about control but now i just wanna lose weight man

29. what features do you hope to achieve?

THIGH GAP!

30. fav tip?

idk... maybe actually eating what you crave, then go for a walk

[ablogwithoutacause]

You never watched Mi Familia with me. I understand it was painful. The complication in birth scene. The negative traits many of the characters had. I understand, but to me It’s a beautiful picture that depicts how we don’t get to choose what family we’re born into. But we have a choice, and we decide if we make it. I’m living something of a movie… a “Mi Familia” movie.

My anxiety attacks seem to be persistent but I work on them day to day to not let them control me. Today at work I did what you told me. Another sleepless night. Eight circles, one for every hour I was obliged to be there. As every hour passed, a circle was filled in. I do something similar for my daily push ups. Each circle represents a set of ten. Every day five circles are filled. I got through the day. Over thirty hours went by and I found myself at home. Anxious, worried that no matter how many times i closed my eyes, it was as my eyelids were held open by compressed springs ready to release back into an open coil. I was worried another anxiety attack was coming. My heart beat would not subdue to a controlled THun-thUN... no matter how many times I controlled my breathing. My cousin Tony told me this, "Being alone is real, getting lost in your head is real. Anyone can be a tough guy, a bad guy. But no matter how big, how strong that man is to the open eye... when the door closes, and the lights turn off... that's when it gets scary." Tony was locked up for over a year. He was a tweety bird in a cage... and probably came close to losing his mind more than a couple of times.

At this point I'm writing just to write. To clear my mind. To empty out my heavy load into the vast yet complex "inner-webz". I see it as doing something with my time. Investing energy into something else. shifting inertia from one object to another. My mind was yet again filled with unnecessary thoughts. Each thought, a crab in a bucket (my mind). Just as one wanted to escape, the others brought it down and the pressure, the space not being relieved of worry.

I spoke to my mother for over an hour on the phone. That was enough to allow me to sleep a few hours. I woke up a bit refreshed. Nothing replenishing, but just enough fuel to get me to the next town. My dinner was a pimped out yakisoba maruchan... As the noodles softened in boiling water... I heated up chopped leftover chicken with raw garlic and onions. After the chicken was hot and the onions were glazing, I drained the water from the noodles and threw them in the casserole with the chicken and the members of the allium family. I poured the yakisoba sauce in, and cracked an egg in there. It was very savory and masked the generic instant noodle taste. I wish i had some bell peppers in the fridge. that would've pieced it all together for me.

To accompany the dinner, I made a chamomile and cinnamon tea, lightly sweetened with honey from Zacatecas. My mom had told me to have a spoonful of honey to help relax and go to sleep. I then spoke to my older brother... we're worried for the youngest. He expressed to me how just as he was once worried for me, now I am worrying for the youngest. He handed me the big brother belt i had long refused to wear. Now I have put a distance between the youngest and I, a distance which would be used as a pneumatic tube system, like those in bank drive-thrus. Only respect and wisdom would be passed on from me to him. His break-up with your sister is promoting him to engage in behaviors that are concerning. Again... reminding me of Chucho from Mi Familia.

Now... It is time to attempt to sleep again... since I am scheduled to work in less than 5 hours. I have no control over what I dream. These stress related dreams are no good for my waking life. This will be my next task. Controlling how I react to said disturbing dreams. I don't want to be afraid of what is healthy for me... sleep. I miss you, I learn from you daily. I wish you were here. And because I want you here, I will do everything in my power to have you here. Love you.

[unfriendlies]

while his words were reassuring, nuea was still worried about making a bad impression. he didn't want to end up saying the wrong thing or offending the man, especially when they were running the chance that he'd be in nuea's life for a long time. it'd be heartbreaking to have sky love him while his father despised him. "i would love to meet him, just know now that i might make an idiot of myself and have your father asking why you chose a fool like me to bring home." nuea couldn't help but laugh at sky's response to eating the calamari. it was one of the more milder forms of seafood, which was a big part of why nuea could stomach it. it was cut up and fried so, if you didn't know any better, you wouldn't have thought it was squid. he didn't like things that tasted like they came out of the ocean which meant he was extremely picky when eating fish, also why he didn't like seaweed as it tasted and smelled like a dirty fish tank. "oh come on, it's not that bad." he claimed, speaking through his laughter. when the other's head rested on his shoulder, nuea lifted a hand to pat the side of sky's head. "the texture just depends on the food. squid and octopus are rubbery." but he didn't eat octopus as it was mostly served in it's original form and he couldn't look past that. "i don't really eat other seafood. i mean, sometimes i'll have fish but it really just depends on the type of fish. the stuff i really like isn't exactly available fresh here, i've only ever tried it after it's been frozen and shipped from another country. i've never had lobster or crab or shrimp, either. they're bottom feeders, more like bugs than animals. i've never had clams or oysters but people say they're good." he went in to explain. "i like chicken the most, though." he admitted, omitting the fact that it was mostly fried chicken that he ate. "you probably should have started out with chicken, i make really good thai chicken curry but it can be a little spicy sometimes if i don't pay attention to how much spices i'm putting in."

"Oh he's not the type to care, after a long life he's just glad I'm not alone when I find someone new, poor man refuses to date again after my mother died...and all my past lovers were human so why would you being human matter? He's just like any other dad, most you need to worry about is him asking you about your family and your childhood. He's always curious...especially with modern humans" he shook his head "one bite won't hurt me...much" he took the small piece into his mouth and then wrinkled his nose "No...thank you...I..." he coughed "It's not for me..it has hardly any taste but the texture of the...meat.." it wasn't surprising he'd be a picky eater but his reaction made the usual cool Sky seem just a little more down to earth and normal. He grabbed his drink and sipped the last bit of the alcohol blood in the glass "I hope you don't ever cook me meat like this...the texture is...rubbery" he cringed then reached over to rest his head on his shoulder "I regret tasting it" he actually didn't swallow the bite so he wasn't going to feel sick, hopefully. "What do you like about this food? I hear good things about fried foods but that is seafood and not even the good kind..from what I've heard..." he made a mental note of that for reference in the future since he liked having as much knowledge as possible.

[mnovenia]

DAY 2 in Korea

That morning I woke up early, I wanted to greet the kids, say thank you to Yui for lending me her room, and bring them to school.

It was a bright beautiful crispy cold morning, Eonnie came along with me and delivered the girls to school. Everything seems new to me, they loved holding hands and having me to their school. They showed me their bikes and where they parked, it was so nice and like a dream comes true (my daehan minguk manse world HAHAA).

We went to the apartment, Eonnie went to work, but beforehands, she prepared a padded warm coat and pretty dress for me to wear :'') We also had Yoora came that morning, we ate breakfast together (sotteok-sotteok, fruits, cheese, coffee) then we got ready to go to Eonnie's office. Oppa drove us and it was a nice journey in the car as well, he truly treated us like his own sister.

After waiting for a while, Eonnie showed us Cocoheali's office, the award, the bible verse that she kept, it was all just so impressive to me. Then we were heading to Hyundai Dept Store. It's quite trafficky, and such a hard work to get in. However, Erica Eonnie was so patient and do everything to get in in the midst of the busy-ness :''

Me and Bella walked around the Christmas decoration area, put in names in the restaurant, took pictures here and there. We ate the most delicious meal, noodle and beef, the crab banchan was INCREDIBLY nice too, and the last is the porridge. I feel like crying whenever I think about the taste. It's just so good.

Then I bought all of us coffees, then we walked around to see skin scare pop up shops that look and smell amazing. I wanted to buy that Bath Project perfume spray, but instead Eonnie bought it for me :''') plus, because she wanted to buy the sunscreen, she bought it for us all well.. huhuhu sungkan pwuol.. I just feel nobody should not treat me that well, I just don't feel I deserve it. However, Bella reminded me to accept with peace and gratitude.

Then we're heading to the aesthetic doctor when I had my nose filler done. Initially I almost bailed because I'm afraid, however Eonnie just convicted me and every situation at that time seems convincing. I wasn't afraid as well, weird.

When we arrived, they treated us well, I think Eunjung Eonnie made a special arrangement so we can get a spot. We met with the charismatic doctor, and he spoke english very well. He looked at my nose and face condition, and arranged stuffs. I was so surprised of how much he gave discount for the treatment, i think he just felt sorry for me :'''', I paid like 1/5 of the actual price.

We waited and finally it's time to get things done. I honestly didn't feel any pain at all. However the most touching moment was when the doctor said: we're praying for you and your ministry in Indonesia. I was like huhuhuuu immediately wanna cry gak sih. Thank you so much doctor, for making my nose a lot prettier and treating me very nicely, I will never forget your kindness and how heart warming you made me feel.

Afterwards, Eonnie decided not to go to work, but going home instead. So happy to finally see and meet the kids. Oppa went out to work so we all heading to have chicken for dinner. Omg love every minutes of it.

We're walking from the apartment, everything was just so impressive to me. It was so so cold, but fun because the kids didn't care, they brought along their bikes, skateboard, cute coats and just personalities as a kid. I LOVE THEM SO MUCH. Seoyi-sooyi just loved to show me around and following me around.

The vibe in the chicken place tho, it's just exactly like in the drama. Even better than what I imagine. Also the taste of the chicken, duh gimana ya, ENAKKKKK BANGETTTT. And for a non foodie like me, it's just so incredible, mo nangis, yg original, yg soysauce, even kentang and everything yg anak2 pesen. At that night lucu banget Seoyi menikmati banget sambil ketawa ketawa nonton running man/Yoo Jae Sook di TV, Siwon juga, and lagu2 nya persis spt in my playlist, LOVE it, and Seo yiaaa, she's just so cute. Sooyi also so nice by keep bringing water for us. Another incredible findings is: WATER is for FREE in every korean resto, how amazing one country be everyboday. Eonnie, thank you once again for giving me the best kind of experience that is more precious than what I can think of.

It wasn't end there, afterwards we went to CU supermarket, of course everything blew my mind and made my eyes open so brightly. I picked some snacks and they all just seems incredible, the beurre beer, coffee, milk, ahh it was such a fun time. We're running back to the apartment, because its way too cold. And that's the end of the day 2.

THANK YOU GOD FOR EVERYTHING

[deadlymagicbeans]

Can I request some head canons for being married to Elliott please?

** Hi Anon! I'd love too! the romantic nerd that is Elliott need's some love sometimes - Bean**

Elliott Married life Headcanons:

Reader is gender neutral

When you and Elliott are dating he's the normal level of clingy but oh boy, once your married he's practically stuck to you like glue. his love language is physical touch in times when his vocal vocabulary fails him to express how much he loves you through words.

He tries his hardest to help you around the farm, watering crops is his favourite farm chore. he may or may not have tried to have fed the chickens once…. it didn't go well, so sticking to plants is his go-to.

Tries his hardest to cook for you. did he burn down the kitchen once? yes, does he also manage to set fire to the toaster every time he makes toast? also a yes but he is determined to give his S/O the best food they've ever tasted to show gratitude to them for all they do.

!LOVE! !LETTERS!, even sat next to you or far away as in the book tour he did. he's writing to you and about you, what? he can't help it the man practically can't stop gushing about the fact that he's your husband! (With him being a writer it means his letters are full of words of love spoken so beautifully but with a lot of romantic clichés)

This man has a whole collection of hair products and hoards them like mad in your bathroom, good luck trying to find any space in there for your stuff. but now you know how he keeps his hair so silky and smooth.

Everywhere Elliott goes he always keeps at least several of your wedding photos with him either in his pocket or in his wallet. it makes him smile every time he looks at them plus he likes to constantly show them off.

Make him crab cakes once, he's smitten but every week? he's in paradise. who knew married life was so blissful.

He loves to kiss, your forehead, hands, shoulders, mouth and when he's feeling very romantic your neck. this man practically worships the ground you walk on he's never gonna miss an opportunity to kiss you.

If you like to Braid his hair or put flowers in it, good luck trying to change it or asking him to take them out. That man will protect the braids you put in his hair as if his life depended on it.

Sometimes he looses track of how long he's been writing or in a block for. just remind him to look after himself and bring him something to eat as he's terrible at looking after himself sometimes.

His favourite way to relax and end everyday is sit on the porch with his S/O with a book watching the sun go down, it's cheesy but that's Elliott for you.

[absolutebl]

Thai Food You Should Eat Because of BL

Firstly most of these dishes have multiple spellings in English (and also often many different names within Thailand). I just picked one spelling, that will be enough to do a search, if you want to find a recipe for yourself. 

Som Tum in What’s Zabb Man

AKA Green Papaya Salad 

I think this is the one most people will know on this list. Unlike overseas, in Thailand there are many varieties of som tum (I’ve had an ocean-side version served with little blue crabs, raw and in the shell, AMAZING). It’s often a street food, and it’s usually quite spicy. You order by either asking the vendor (it’s traditionally served from market stalls just as we saw at the beginning of this show) for a heat level or number of chilis. The ingredients are then pounded together with a massive mortar & pestle. The order and amounts of the different ingredients are chef-specific, so the variety and uniqueness is immense with this dish. There are fans of it who make a point of trying as many different versions in each city they visit. Like being a wine taster.

Som Tum highlights what I think is best about Thai food - it’s bright forward freshness and deep complexity of flavors. Som Tum is the firework-in-your-mouth of salads: sour, sweet, salty, spicy, umami, herbaceous. It’s a spectacular dish (which has been ill served by it’s ubiquitousness outside of Thailand). It should be made fresh, (this is NOT a slaw), because if it sits at all the elements become soggy and the flavor muddled. 

What’s Zabb Man emphasized the important aspects of this dish. Its spiciness and its freshness, the uniqueness of its flavor, not to mention how each chef makes it his own. 

After all when Poon goes missing, Athip finds him again because, after one taste of his Som Tum, he knows who is in the kitchen. 

Kao Soi in Bite Me

AKA Northern Thai Curry Noodle AKA Chiang Mai Curry Noodles 

Did I do this post because I want to talk about this dish? Probubly. Here in the states it’s a rare to find on offer but it’s one of my absolute favorites. 

I’m obsessed with diaspora foods in general - AKA fusion foods that highlight immigrant, colonial occupation, and/or blended communities. Lamb Vindaloo and Banh Mi are some famous examples of this. There was one banh mi place I found in Nor Cal run by a Chinese/Vietnamese couple that made a char siu pork + pâté banh mi, it was WILD and wicked good! Sorry, I digress.  

This is a Northern Thai dish, common in Chang Mai, influenced by both Burmese (Myanmar) cuisine and local Chinese communities. It’s wildly variable by family and by region. This is also possibly one of my favorite foods. It’s notable in that it is one of the few traditional Thai dishes you will find served with chopsticks. (When I order it here in the states that’s one of the things I look for.) 

It is a noodle soup/stew. Can be rice, egg, or flour noodles, usually ramen style (but sometimes fettuccine), topped with a thick coconut forward curry broth, stewed dark meat chicken (usually on the bone) and raw onion. It has fried crispy flour noodles on top and is served with pickled vegetables, extra spices, fresh herbs, lime wedges, and raw shallots (or some combination thereof) - either on the top or on the side (banchan style). The curry element usually has more in common with Chinese or Japanese yellow curry powers (like those used for Singapore noodles) than red or green Thai curries. It combines what we would think of as traditional Thai flavor profiles with Chinese, and can also uses some Indian spices. It is a very layered dish, with more depth and earthiness and slightly less brightness than a lot of other Thai food. It tends to have a rounded heat to it (hitting all of the mouth, like Indian cuisine). I am a particular fan of the pickled greens element. 

Bite Me is not a great BL but Aek sharing his Chiang Mai roots with Chef Aue, most specifically around this dish, is key to the plot (what little there is). But this is not a dish that is served in Chef Aue’s restaurant. 

Khai Palo in Enchanté 

AKA 5 Spice Pork & Egg Stew

This is the dish Theo remembers from his childhood that Akk’s family cooks for him. It’s a fascinating dish because it’s retains a very strong Chinese influence and is noted for using soy sauce as its salt element (rather than the more ubiquitous fish sauce) and for NOT being spicy, also it involves 5 spice.

It’s also often associated with children or childishness and comfort food. It’s most commonly found as a street food or homemade, and is relatively rare in restaurants outside of Thailand. It has a similar flavor profile to Moo Gratiem which is one of my favorite dishes. (It’s that white peppercorn and garlic thing = NOM.) It’s also very easy to make, I recommend it. There is a Mama ramen noodle version you can sometimes find and buy, but I always need to add more five spice. 

In Enchanté this dish is a plot point and is interesting because it highlights both the time when Theo was last in Thailand (as a child), Akk’s interest in courting and caring for him, and Theo’s somewhat childish nature/behavior.  

Gaeng Tai Pla in Close Friend 2

AKA pickled fish sour soup 

A famous dish developed in the fishing communities of Southern Thailand. Traditionally it involves pickled fish bladder (Tai Pla) + large chunks of dried fish meat, Thai eggplant, bamboo shoots, and/or seasonal greens, with a spice profile similar to tom (lemongrass, lime, shrimp paste, red chili). 

I've never been lucky enough to eat this, but it's on my hit list. I think I could make something like it, but I can’t get hold of the the Tai Pla for love nor money.

Luk Choup in La Cuisine (& Until We Meet Again) 

AKA no other name, really, but this is also the main characters name in La Cuisine, ลูกชุบ (translation, coated pieces) but the meaning of this dessert is “loved by all, or adored.” This aspect of the name is a plot point in the series. Choup’s older brother, aunt, and grandmother all refer to him as the family’s beloved one, or special one, or most loved. 

Luk Choup are tiny imitation fruits/vegetables (or occasionally star shapes) these are made of mung beans cooked with coconut milk and sugar. Once formed, they are dipped in gelatin and painted with food coloring to resemble other food. Recipe here.

This one appeared multiple times in Until We Meet Again, on the bus, at the fair, and at the very end during Dean and Pharm’s separation.

I’ve eaten these.

Consistency wise the exterior is like a gummy but much tougher, and with a bite to it. So like if you made jello into sheets but with too much gelatin. I’ve actually never had anything else to compare to this texture, perhaps like some of the bits in bubble teas? The interior is like very thick humus meets the inside of a peanut butter cup. 

As for taste, the gel outside has no flavor and the inside tastes a lot like red bean paste. They are not very sweet.

Here’s a YT vid on how to make these.

Chor Muang in Until We Meet Again 

AKA Blue Flower Dumpling

Chor Muang is a purple or blue flower-shaped dumpling that is savory, stuffed with a spiced minced chicken. These days it is a popular appetizer but it was once served as a dessert. The coloring is done with butterfly pea flour. Recipe here. 

Chor Muang is a major catalyst food for the plot of Until We Meet Again. It is featured in a play starring Del and Manaow and is the reason Pharm meets and befriends Del. This allows him to start helping fix Dean’s strained family dynamic.

Later he feeds this dumpling to Team, Win, and Dean in front of witnesses. This is the first time he feeds Dean (it will not be the last.)

I did a post all about the sweets in this show. Here’s a YT vid on how to make these. 

Nom Yen in SOTUS (also 2 Moons, 2 Moons 2) 

AKA Pink Milk 

Pink milk is pretty ubiquitous in most Thai BL series. Technically, its origin for association with BL is the original y-novel of 2 Moons. However, most international watchers are familiar with it from SOTUS (more recently it has shown up associated with side characters in Nitman and Love Area). 

After watching SOTUS and both 2 Moons installments I got curious. Here’s the full post I did on pink milk, how it’s made and my experience attempting to recreate it. I can see why it might be thought of as a childish drink, it reminded me a bit of birthday cake flavoring, ice cream bean, or cotton candy. It’s very sweet and not a whole lot else. 

THAI LANGUAGE CORNER 

I haven’t learned the minutia yet but around ordering food in Thai but the Thai bestie always complains the monikers (also verbs?) for dishes have to do with what the dish is usually served inside. So some dishes have names/consumption verbs that have to do with bowls and others with plates. 

Much as in English we would use the verb “drink” for broth but “eat” for soup. (And also argue about which one is appropriate under which circumstances.) 

To train your ear for BL food:

gin = to eat or to have a meal (also under certain circumstances/sentence structures is slang for to sexually consume or fuck). See Pharm misuse this one in UWMA when Dean first visits his condo. 

khao or kao = food but also actually rice, also a name and also third person he pronoun

talay = the ocean and also mixed seafood and a name 

pad = usually means a stir fried (dryer) dish 

pak = veggies! 

kai (sounds like gai) = chicken ไก่ but also egg ไข่ (yes they are different in intonation and spelling, but really I find it darn near impossible to hear the difference) 

A list of some common dishes is here. 

Please leave a comment if any other dish has shown up you want to talk about, because this is basically my favorite topic EVER. I love to eat and cook Thai food so, yeah. Also the oft mentioned Thai bestie is an AMAZING cook. I often act the part of her kitchen goblin. 

(source) 

[pikaflute]

hi here's my food related headcanons for the dethklok gang + dethstaff. i love you. okay let's get started.

nathan: isn't really picky with food. he is weird with texture sometimes. like ew raw tomato? get that shit AWAY NOW. he usually will eat most things though. he likes trying new things as well. like they're in an another country on tour hes gonna get something new that hes never tried before. he loves spicy things. he will douse things in hot sauce just because he can. he can't cook to save his life BUT he can bake really well though. his mom taught him everything about baking.

pickles: he's a vegetarian. he says it offsets the whole drinking and drugs thing but i don't think that's how it works. anyway he still eats junk food. like he loves loves cinnamon buns so much, he is not stopping to eat anything else for breakfast no sirree. he also loves making food combos that offend god. he likes mayo with his pizza. he's going to hell. in terms of spice, he's a white dude from wisconsin, this dude is not eating spicy shit. as for cooking, he cooks really well and will cook for the band occasionally. if they aren't dicks to him that is.

charles: he's a pescatarian. mainly because he loves seafood but doesn't like the texture of other meat. he really enjoys seafood too, his faves are salmon, squid, and crab. he grew up in an italian and jewish household so you know that man was eating good as a kid. he kinda fucked his diet in college by eating garbage and ramen between his classes though. also he has a hidden sweet tooth. like you bring cookies near him he's taking like three. he's not a spice guy, usually, just a little bit to give it a kick. he can cook spaghetti. that's pretty much it.

murderface: loves meat stuff. he's the kinda guy who won't eat a meal unless he can shove meat into his mouth (NOT IN A GAY WAY). barbecue is his favorite thing ever, and he eats it any chance he gets. he's a messy eater but it's okay he can do what he wants i think. he's next to nathan with spice tolerance. he likes junk food as well, but one time he stole some from pickles and pickles literally tried to hamburger time him and the band cheered pickles on. charles wanted no part in that. he can also cook! he just never does because he's afraid of the band making fun of him.

skwisgaar: tbh hes a chicken fingies and fries at every restaurant kinda guy. he's got a very sensitive palate and doesn't eat most things. he does like very simple things that won't mess with his sensitive tummy. really likes cheese for some reason? like when they go on tour he'll always stop to see if they have some cheese he hasn't tried yet. he likes those charcuterie boards a lot. if you even asked him to try spice he would probably die. he can cook a nice soup. it's good soup. secret recipe though.

toki: when he first moved to America for dethklok he had a sensitive palate like skwisgaar. as time moved on, his taste grew and he wanted to eat as much stuff he could get his hands on. he still has some issues with food texture (and also being diabetic) and doesn't eat fish at all. he thinks they're too slimy. he also loves stealing food off his band members plates. asshole, he says he loves spice but when he has a little spice he is crying for some milk. he almost burned down the kitchen three times. nathan tackles him if he ever goes near the stove now.

abigail: she's also a pescatarian. yay charles and abigail bonding moments. shes very fond of clams and mussels, and she likes salmon. i also think she's on making herself a lunch everyday. she puts a lot of time into it (usually because she spends most of her time at work) and always tries to make it look nice. she handles spice pretty well like nathan and murderface but unlike those two she isn't downing her whole dish in hot sauce, moderation is key come on guys. obviously she can cook but never has the time to besides her lunches. after the whole doomstar incident she gets back into cooking as stress relief. its nice

knubbler: it's about 50/50. he likes a lot of food and also hates a lot of food. its the texture, the damn texture. they like weird food combos like pickles does. how can you not eat an orange but you'll put ranch on your eggs. is he doing this on purpose? yes. also his favorite food is breakfast food. breakfast food all the time please. spice tolerance is the same as toki's. yeah spice them up but dont mention the fact they're going to be crying in like 20 minutes. they can cook, but they cook like those old dishes from the 50s. the jellos with like tuna and mayo. is he doing this on purpose? yes.

[jaesqueso]

Chef’s kiss (m)

pairing: chef!xiaojun x fem!reader

summary: a food tasting turns into a steamy session

word count: 1,861

warnings: quite a few terrible food puns, fingering, oral sex (receiving), unprotected sex (when in doubt don’t go without!)

a/n: this is terrible so I apologise in advance, I was just incredibly turned on by The Lonely Master Chef Xiao... anyway, do give me some feedback please! ❤︎

☽ ・・・・・ ☾

“So sorry I’m late, I-”

You stumble inside the room but stop as you come face to face with probably the most handsome man you’ve ever seen in your life.

“Y/N!” Your coworker calls as she walks towards you. “It’s ok, we barely even started. This is chef Xiaojun.” 

“Hi…” You mutter not being able to take your eyes off him.

“Hello, nice to meet you.” He extends his hand to you and you quickly shake it before he’s able to tell how he’s making you feel.

“Come, let’s sit.” Your coworker takes your arm and leads you to two chairs next to a table with a few utensils on it. “He’s cute right?” She whispers as the chef places himself on the other side. You throw her a death glare and then look back at the gorgeous man.

Your company was having a fancy dinner with some new investors so they appointed you and your coworker to try out the menu to guarantee the food would captivate them into closing the business.

The chef starts by presenting you the appetisers: prosciutto-wrapped avocado with goat cheese and arugula, sausage stuffed mushrooms and some oysters Rockefeller. You each taste the three dishes as he explained the components. You were melting at the way he talked about each ingredient as if they were meant to be put together to create a feast in your mouth.

Next were the main courses: bourbon pecan chicken, crab-stuffed lobster tail and Scandinavian roasted venison tenderloin. Again you two tried a little bit of each and you couldn’t believe the burst of flavours in your mouth. You both giggle at his food related puns, he’s not only incredibly skilled in the kitchen but he also has a quirky sense of humour. Joining that with his beautiful features and you almost melt in your seat.

“Excuse me, I gotta take this call.” Your coworker left the room as the chef set up the deserts. 

You admire the way Xiaojun carefully plates the food with his delicate hands making your mind wander at the thoughts of what other amazing things his hands might be capable of… You shake the hot imagery away as your coworker comes back inside.

“I’m so sorry but I have to go, I just got a call from the kindergarten and I really need to pick up my daughter.” She apologetically says as she picks up her things.

“Oh is she ok?” You ask in concern.

“She will be.” She walks to you grabbing your hand. “Y/N are you ok to finish up on your own?”

“Y-Yeah, sure.” You stutter as you realise that will leave you alone with the chef.

“You are a life saver!” She hugs you and then turns to the man. “If the desserts are as good as what we’ve tried so far this will be a very successful dinner! Thank you so much and see you tomorrow!”

He smiles and bows as she leaves the door. You take a deep breath and look back at him.

“Shall we continue?” You nod and match his smile trying to hide your sudden nervousness.

The desserts were then presented in front of you: rum raisin crème brulee, coffee caramel panna cotta and lemon merengue pie with sorbet.

“Crème brulee is one of my favourites desserts to serve,” Xiaojun lights up the torch and moves it closer to the container melting the sugar on top, “it’s a beautiful dish with an amazing flavour, best served when heated up on the spot.” He looks up at you and winks.

You gulp trying not to make it obvious that the dessert was not the only thing heating up. You take a spoon and damn if it wasn’t one of the best crème brulees you’ve ever tasted in your life. He smiles at the pleasant look in your face moving on the next dish.

“This panna cotta is perfect for coffee lovers, adding a sweet twist with the caramel.” He explains moving the plate in your direction.

You taste it and are amazed with the perfect combination of the flavours. You look at him and he seems to be staring at your lips. You widen your eyes as he leans over the table brushing his thumb in the corner of your mouth. So he did not have the same burning desire of kissing you, you just made a fool of yourself getting dirty like a child. What you were not expecting was that he would take his thumb to his mouth sucking it clean. That vision went straight to your core.

“Last but not least,” he continues as if he did not just made your legs weak, “the merengue can be served with a lime sorbet to increase the sour flavour or a simple vanilla sorbet to smooth it out.”

“Why not both?” He raises an eyebrow at your sudden teasing tone as you decided to test the waters. “I like to try new things… In my desserts.” He chuckles as he walks around the table to come stand next to you.

“Do you know why I became a chef?” He asks as he leans against the surface.

“Why?” You stand up so you are at his level.

“Food can be very intimate, but also very intense.” He licks his lips.

“Are you sure you’re still talking about food?” You smirk.

“Sure. Food can be sweet,” he tucks a strand of hair behind your ear, ”or spicy.” He turns your bodies around, your butt now hitting the rim of the table as Xiaojun stands in front of you. “It can be warm,” he comes closer, hips against yours, “or cold.” He reaches behind you taking a bit of sorbet and bringing it to your lips. “If you mix it just right,” you open your mouth taking in the dessert, “and you’ll have the perfect level of intensity.”

Oh you’re definitely not thinking about food anymore. You feel a drop of sorbet falling from your mouth to your chest as he removes the spoon placing it back on the table. You look down and next thing you know he’s licking it clean looking up at you.

“That’s a very good sorbet, it would be a shame to let even a drop go to waste.” He lifts up his head to stand inches away from yours.

“Do they teach you to be this smooth in culinary school?” You tease.

“Well,” his hands smooth the sides of your body, “they do teach us to prep the ingredients before we get cooking.”

And with that the distance between you two fades in a delicious kiss. Your lips are cold from the sorbet while his are warm from all the smooth talk. He was right, if you mix it just right you get the perfect level of intensity.

Your arms wrap around his neck as the kiss develops. You moan softly when his mouth moves to your neck knowing exactly where to kiss and suck. His hands start to unbutton your blouse and you run your fingers through his hair. His mouth keeps moving down to the mounds of your breasts as his hands cup them over your bra.

He lifts his head back to take your mouth and his hands busy themselves hiking up your skirt and pushing down your panties. You yelp as he lifts you up to sit you over the table. One of his arms wraps around your waist as his other hand caresses your thigh until it reaches your folds.

You moan into his mouth as he circles your clit. You were right, his hands are capable of much more than cooking.

“You know,” he breaks the kiss and kneels down between your legs, “a great chef always tastes the food he prepares and you seem quite ready, mind if I do?”

“You’re the chef.” You smirk as he leans closer to your throbbing core.

He takes a long lick through your wetness and you lean back supporting yourself with your hands on the table. He takes his time eating you out like he’s savouring his favourite meal.

The heat builds up inside you and you bite your lip to prevent your moans from getting louder. His fingers are pumping in and out of you and within minutes you cum all over them. He licks off your juices and stands up again.

“Finger licking good.” He winks licking his digits.

“What can I say,” you chuckle, “you are a great chef.”

He kisses you again grinding his still clothed crotch against you naked cunt. You lower your hands and start unbuttoning his pants. He helps you out by pulling them down to his ankles along with his underwear. You take his dick in your hand and almost gasp at how hard he already is. You move your hand up and down his length and he breaks the kiss to let out a low moan.

“Ready for another meal?” He asks rubbing his tip on your wetness.

“I’ve never been so hungry.” You bite your lip.

Xiaojun aligns himself with your hole and you moan in unison as he penetrates you slowly. You hold his face and bring your mouths back together as he grabs your waist to steadies you while he starts moving inside you.

Muffled moans and skin slapping sounds fill the air. Sweat forms on your bodies like somebody turned up the heat to more than what human beings were made to withstand.

He takes his cock out only to turn you around, your back against his chest. He thrusts back in from behind and you lean your head back to rest on his shoulder. He kisses your neck massaging your clothed breasts as he thrusts into you harder and faster.

You clench around his length when he takes his hand back to your clit. You know you two won’t take long to give into the pleasure. And in no time your juices mix inside you like your moans mix in the air.

“So,” he breaths out as he removes himself from inside you, grabbing some napkins from the table to clean you two up, “You think your boss will like my menu?”

“Well,” your turn around to him as you two get dressed, “I wouldn’t recommend this last dish, I’d like to keep that one for myself.” You wink and Xiaojun leans closer kissing you one more time.

✦

“Good job you two, this night definitely made their minds, they’re ready to sign the deal.” Your boss raises his champagne glass to you and your coworker as you toast.

“I don’t know why but it felt like the food tasted even better today!” She nudges you as the older man steps away to mingle with the guests.

“I guess sometimes you have to keep tasting it to get the full experience.” You say with a smile as you glance at the food preparation area earning a wink from the chef.

“W-what was that?” She widens her eyes to you.

“What was what?” You take a sip from your champagne to hide your smile.

“Y/N, what happened after I left!?”

[drivingsideways]

Seunwoo + Seunghyo sick

Hi anon! Thank you for this ask, and sorry it's taken me a while to write!

This one is, in my head, set in my Where Your Treasure Is 'verse, but you don't need to read that to make sense of this. The premise here is that Seon-woo and Seung-hyo are in a romantic relationship and have been living together for a while, and they also run a company together.

"You better take something for that," says Seon-woo at breakfast.

"For what?" Seung-hyo croaks at The Korean Herald, which has decided, on this fine spring morning to lead with an editorial on wealth redistribution that looks like it's been written by a twenty-year old who gets her news on Instagram. Pulling their advertising for the next six months seems overkill, but surely something should be--

"For the flu you've been having for the last two days," says Seon-woo, wheeling his chair around the table toward the kitchen counter. As he passes Seung-hyo, he reaches out to place an inquiring palm against his forehead. Seung-hyo jerks away.

--ah, he has it, yes, wasn't there an interview scheduled today with the Seoul Business News--

"Hmm," says Seon-woo, "Nothing some paracetamol and rest won't cure. Take it."

He moves away, and the coffee-maker whirs loudly.

"Is there something wrong with it?" he asks, "I'll call the company. Didn't they promise noiseless?"

"They did not."

He turns in his chair to look at his partner.

"I'm the one who ordered it."

"I'm the one who read the manual and set it up. This is the noise it makes every day. You're just extra sensitive today because-"

He turns back to his eggs and toast, and the horrifying state of the world.

The problem with living with a medical professional was that they always thought they knew everything about everything. Alright, maybe that wasn't a problem with medical professionals in general. Seung-hyo is willing to acknowledge that the problem, in this case, might be more localized, viz, the man across the table who's judgmentally sipping his coffee , while a bowl of oats congeals into goop in front of him. Why he doesn't wait to finish his coffee before pouring out the cereal, Seung-hyo has never understood. And he's tried, oh, he's tried, to get him to view this logically, but Seon-woo will insist on eating the cold slop every day.

"Did you get a chance to review the Australian distributorship deal?" he asks, swallowing a bite of toast. The bread feels scratchy going down his throat. Had Madam Ji switched to a different bakery?

"Yes, I've made some notes and sent out an email," Seon-woo replies. "I'm quite sure we can do better. I've asked Kim bujang to look into it."

"Oh," he says, picking up his phone, "I didn't see it…when did you send it out?"

He'd been working late last night, how had he missed—

"After you fell asleep at the desk," Seon-woo says, coolly.

He has a vague memory of Seon-woo waking him up, and shutting his laptop for him last night. This was why he hated medication, which he had taken, he wasn't entirely irrational, despite what Seon-woo liked to imply.

It just interfered.

"Well," he says, taking two large gulps of his own coffee, "I better get going, I have a day."

"I bet," Seon-woo mutters, and then gives him a sweet smile when he gives him a look. "Have a good one, hyung."

His expression says that he thinks the probability of that is negative. Seung-hyo's never met anyone as petty as the love of his life, and that's a fact. Well, maybe Ye Jin-woo, which just went to show you—

"I will, thank you," he says, "Shall we have lunch together?"

Seon-woo nods, and this time the smile is genuine, and alright, he didn't care that the love of his life was a petty fuck, he especially didn't care that his head felt a bit like a block of wood, life was good, and he was going to have a good day.

"Bad cold?" asks the make-up professional at the TV studio, her voice sympathetic. "I'll get you some warm water with salt to gargle with, it'll clear up your throat before you go on air."

"Thank you," he says, "That's very kind, but unnecessary."

She pauses.

"It's really no trouble Gu daepyo-nim."

"No," he says, "Thank you. Again. But no."

At lunch, Seon-woo says, calmly, "I'm sure the ten people watching KBN at 11.22 am this morning would have been convinced by your argument, if they'd been able to hear it. Why did they cut you off so quick?"

"A glitch in the sound system," he says, "The sound engineer was profoundly apologetic. I didn't think it was worth making a fuss about."

"Uh-huh," says Seon-woo. "You mean the fact that he forgot to mute your mike properly, so we could hear you hacking up a lung off screen? I think he should be fired."

"Where's your sense of proportion?" Seung-hyo asks. The hot chicken broth feels good going down his throat, warming his chest.

"Left it in our McMansion this morning," Seon-woo says, and sets his chopsticks down.

"Hyung," he says, "Take the rest of the day off."

"I can't," he replies, "There's too much to do."

"Rescheduling a few meetings is not the end of the world."

"It's discourteous to the people who are giving me their time," Seung-hyo replies, "Besides, I'm fine. The soup was delicious. Thank you for ordering it."

Seon-woo waves a hand, "You can thank Kyung-ah-ssi on your way out."

"I'll buy her flowers," Seung-hyo says, because there's no way he's going to face her without even that much of a defense.

Seon-woo says, evenly, "You'll be sure to pick them up yourself, won't you? I mean, there's absolutely no reason why you shouldn't be in a pollen factory- excuse me- a flower shop today."

"You're not as funny as you think you are," Seung-hyo says, rising from the table. "Dinner at 7?"

"Sure," says Seon-woo, "You'll be making crab soup, I hope?"

"Don't push your luck," Seung-hyo says, with dignity and calm, and runs away.

He comes to groggily, in his bed, with no memory of how he got there. The lights are dimmed, and he's sweaty under the quilt. There's movement beside the bed, and when he opens his eyes, bleary, Seon-woo is placing a food tray on the bedside table.

"What time is it?" he asks.

"Past 9," Seon-woo says, quietly. "Ready for some food?"

He sighs, turning on his side to face him.

Seon-woo's expression is fond, even though there's a trace of exasperation beneath.

"I'm feeling better," he announces.

"Astounding," Seon-woo murmurs, taking the lid off a steaming bowl. "Considering you weren't, at any point, sick."

Petty, petty.

"I bet that's rice porridge," he says craning his neck. "Ugh."

"Special from eomeonim," Seon-woo confirms. "She's put me on a deadline to feed you this tonight. So chop-chop."

He pushes himself up, resting against the pillows, as Seon-woo arranges the tray for him.

It does taste good- like childhood, and home, he acknowledges, as he swallows the first mouthful.

Seon-woo is taking off his prosthetics, heaving a sigh of relief. Despite all the advances they've made in the material technology, wearing it for several hours at a stretch and the kind of life Seon-woo led, did make it a bother. At home, Seon-woo often preferred to get around in the wheelchair like he'd done for most of his life. Sometimes, when Seung-hyo thinks of how much pain Seon-woo has borne, he can barely comprehend it. Compared to that—

But that's a thought he'll keep to himself, he's not a fool.

"You're such an idiot about these things," Seon-woo says, as he maneuvers himself across the bed. He raises a hand to brush away the sweaty hair sticking to Seung-hyo's forehead. "You realize being ill isn't a character flaw, right?"

Seung-hyo puts his spoon down.

"So you're a psych now too?" he cribs, picking up his spoon again.

"Don't need to be," Seon-woo says, yawning, and turning away. "You're not that complicated, hyung."

God, the man was so annoying.

It really was a disaster that Seung-hyo was crazy about him.

"Sleep well," he says aloud, as Seon-woo settles down, "See you in the morning."

[lovelyirony]

Could I get number 30 "Why is arson always your first answer?" With winteriron?

England wasn’t necessarily Tony’s favorite place to be. For one thing, Pepper always asked for some sort of collection of Burberry scarves, and Tony would rather die than step foot in a store, but Pepper is the one who makes sure he gets out of countries and into countries as discreetly as possible. 

For another, England usually means either expensive art or expensive jewelry, and art is a bitch to get out of an event if you haven’t worked up a back story for the last year, and jewelry is...well. People are bound to notice if it’s famous enough. 

This go-round, it’s art. A rare miniature of a high-society woman, someone Tony doesn’t at all care about. He has a buyer from the middle of nowhere Montana, and he’s not sure why a cowboy from Montana cares about this so much, but he offered a pretty steep salary for Tony, so here he is. 

The thing is this: Tony Stark is not known as a thief. No. He is known as a reclusive billionaire who only comes out of his house, like, once a year to mourn his parents. 

Except he doesn’t do that, that’s just the yearly walk that he lets them notice and take pictures of. 

Anthony Carbonell is known as an elusive thief who likes to make fun of every single agent of any organization that attempts to track him or the works that he’s stolen. It’s cute, honestly. 

Agent James Barnes is the newest hire at SHIELD Protection, which moonlights as an insurance agency. 

His newest job is one that no one else has managed to complete: capture Anthony Carbonell, and protect the newest artwork. 

It’s sending him to England. He has to wear a suit and everything, and he’s not exactly excited about it. 

All they know is that he’s dark-haired, is shorter than six feet, and has a penchant for playing practical jokes on the agents when they end up not capturing him. 

- 

Barnes touches down in England, follows one of their British agents to a safe-house, and gets out the tuxedo. 

God help this night. 

- 

Tony usually isn’t thrown for a loop when it comes to guests at high society auctions. Most everyone is publicly known, or at least known when they should be known. 

There’s a new man in town. 

Tony can’t deny that he has the nicest looks he’s ever seen. A jaw that won’t quit, eyes that seem to observe everything, and a tasteful bun drawn at the back of his head. He also fills out a tuxedo quite nicely. 

Something about him screams danger. Tony smiles to himself in his cocktail; he’ll keep his eyes on that man, so far as everything goes to plan. 

- 

Bucky can feel eyes on him, but he can’t tell if it’s because he’s technically new to all of this, or if it’s because Anthony is here and he already knows. 

He wasn’t stupid. He knew as soon as he walked in that Anthony would be here, and he would be aware. But he’s not really going to focus on the people milling about. He sticks close to the miniature, observing the security measures. 

Or lack of. 

The security measures are barely there. If Bucky could cause a distraction in the room, or maybe pull a fire alarm, he could easily abscond with it. 

He assumes that’s why the band is in another room. He had read the reports that Clint had managed to nick; the band was supposed to be playing in the room, but an anonymous guest had suggested that the acoustics were better in a room adjacent. 

He’s pretty sure that Anthony had recommended that, wherever he was. It’s not like any of the rich people would have had common sense enough to call ahead and ask about the placement of the band, and take into account the arch of the room with the acoustics of a violin. 

It’s smart, honestly. Everyone is dancing, they want to notice what other people are wearing so that they can either discreetly copy them later or make a laughing stock of them in about six minutes, give or take, and no one will notice if someone who wasn’t supposed to be there in the first place slips out. 

He’s not exactly wrong. 

But Tony has been working for an exclusive catering company for two months. Very fun stuff. He learned that he will never want to eat another crab cake again, and he learned how to improvise descriptions for food that is essentially chicken fingers and ketchup. 

Barnes is looking for someone who looks like they fit in. And Tony does, just...not in the way that he actually knows how to do. 

If he was high society, he’d be recognized immediately; everyone still knows how Howard smiled, how Maria moved around the room with the practiced grace of someone raised to be a fun little accessory on your arm. 

Tony has both of those attributes, and if people actually noticed others, they would clock him easily. 

-

He got bold. 

Too bold. 

He was serving appetizers, and he offers one to the new guy on the block. 

“Care for one?” he asks, eyes timidly looking up, energy nervous. 

“Thank you,” New Guy says, and he looks at Tony directly in the eyes. “I appreciate it.” 

No one thanks you at events like these. 

And no one looks at you. 

This was the mistake. 

-

His features are umistakable, Bucky decides. The way his head tilted when he offered the food, the way his eyes look at his, and they’re not used to being looked back at. 

It almost fooled him. Almost. 

But most who work for the upper class learn early on from someone or another that you don’t look, even if you know that they won’t spare you the time of day. 

He’s tempting the odds, and he’s exactly the kind of person who would do it. 

Bucky has Anthony Carbonell’s face memorized, from the surprisingly warm brown eyes to the way he walks away. 

- 

Tony has blown this mission. He knows it. He fucking knows that SHIELD knows who he is right now. 

He texts Pepper, incorrect grammar and everything: 

tell guy job is over. i can refund him for inconvenience. 

what do you mean, over? 

been had. :( 

i don’t like that that’s your reaction. but get out of there, whatever means necessary. i can’t get you out of there until tomorrow morning, or i lose the deposit on your room . 

srsly??????? 

yes, seriously. the woman who let us rent it was very specific about two-day-stay. in the mean time, maybe grab a bottle of wine or something. how are you going to escape? 

well...

don’t you dare

-

Arson is an art that has to be carefully done, if you were wondering. You can just decide to do it, but you need to have some experience for it. 

Tony has. Kind of. 

He has a matchbook from a local hotel that he went into, and it’s been tucked into a pocket of his pants, and he is currently debating if he can actually finish the job or not. 

“Is arson always your first answer?” 

Shit. 

“Uh, smoke break?” Tony asks, knowing that it’s a Very Stupid Excuse because he doesn’t have any cigarettes. 

“Be real with yourself,” Barnes says. “You also have a very unfortunate British accent, as in it sounds terrible.” 

“My apologies if I didn’t work on it,” Tony says. “I’ve been too busy with...other things. Speaking of which, you’re new to SHIELD, aren’t you?” 

“You’re my first mission.” 

“How unfortunate.” 

“And why is that?” 

Tony smiles at him, and it’s disarming how genuine it looks. How genuine it is. (Bucky’s been able to spot a fake smile since he was seven and his mother let Mormons into their house. He knows a lot of things.) 

“Well, darling dearest, I’m going to make my escape.” 

“And you’re saying I can’t find you?” 

“Oh, you’ll find me. You’ll see me everywhere.” 

Tony then proceeds to kiss the ever-living hell out of Barnes. 

It is probably the best kiss of his life, honestly. 

And it leaves him dazed. 

Dazed enough that Tony only has a light jogging-pace as he makes his escape, stealing one of the various Rolls Royce cars that is parked underneath a brilliantly-lit lamp. 

- 

Bucky keeps thinking about that line, about seeing him everywhere. 

He doesn’t know what it means. He describes Anthony Carbonell to a sketch artist, they ask around, and then there’s Friday. 

Friday. 

It’s the day everything becomes clearer and yet infinitely more complicated, because Anthony was right. 

Tony Stark is dedicated to a more “transparent’ image for his company. He’s stepped into the limelight, and all the attention is on him. Everyone in the world is stalking his every move. 

It’s smart. Bold and risky if any former clients have seen his face, although Bucky has no doubt that he has enough money to make sure they go away quietly. 

It means that he can’t be touched. For at least one year, maybe two. 

God, it’s smart. Be so well-known that even the secret agencies would be found if they even attempted to reach you. 

- 

Pepper thinks Tony is God’s Given Idiot. 

Arson probably would have been the better choice. It’s not like the building didn’t have insurance, and it’s not like the fire would have lasted for that long. 

Instead, Tony has decided to make himself internationally known and request a meeting with the guy who could have ended his career, and still could if he talked to the right people. 

-

Sam thinks knows that Bucky is God’s Given Idiot. 

He agrees to the fucking meeting. 

It’s a well-known, public restaurant. It means that Barnes is going to be well-known, or at least photographed from an angle that’s unflattering. 

He should’ve debated, should have fought for a secluded place, or at least somewhere on their turf. God, that would’ve been an iota smarter. 

- 

They both sit down. Peruse a menu that neither are interested in. 

Bucky is wondering what the procedure is on leftovers. And if he’s paying for his own bill in this. He was invited, but with everything going on, he’s not sure. 

Tony sits across from him. Tony, with a now-distinctive goatee, an easy elegance, and a satisfied look in his eyes. 

“You amaze me, James.” 

“Bucky.” 

“I refuse to call you that out of respect for humanity.” 

“I don’t answer to James.” 

“Then what about another nickname, hm?” Tony asks. 

“Like what?” 

“Take your pick. You could be honey, darling, or love. Or something more creative, although if it’s kinky, I’d like it in writing before I refer to you in public with that, so-” 

“James is fine.” 

“Knew it would be,” Tony says smugly. “So. Let’s talk about the fact that you know my dirty little secret.” 

“I wouldn’t call it ‘little’, would you?” 

“It’s a hobby.” 

“Rich people steal shit as a hobby?” 

“Usually not with my methods, but yes,” Tony says. “They usually do it with the careful guidance of the IRS or some shit.” 

Bucky does a little laugh at that one. 

Their waiter comes out, jovially asks how their day is going. 

“Oh it’s going magnificently,” Tony says, peering up through violet-tinted glasses. “How is yours...Lincoln?” 

“Brilliant,” Lincoln responds with a large smile. “What can I get you to drink? Our seasonal cocktail is to die for, and if you’re not in the mood for a cocktail, the cider is simply divine...” 

It’s mundane conversation. 

Tony Stark is a thief who goes by (went by?) Anthony Carbonell, and he’s listening to Lincoln the Waiter talk about seasonal drinks and desserts. 

It’s kind of...grounding. Also odd. 

“And for you?” 

Bucky fumbles with the menu. 

“Uh...water? With lemon?” 

“Refreshingly good choice,” Lincoln says, grinning. “I’ll be right back with those, you two catch up on whatever you need to catch up.” 

Bucky nods, turning to Tony with an eyebrow raised. 

“So, what do we need to catch up on?” 

“Well for one, you need to use my name. It’s Tony, and I’m betting it sounds heavenly coming from you.” 

Bucky’s eyes widen a fraction. 

“Alright. Tony. What do you need to talk about?” 

“Keeping our little secret a secret.” 

“I’ve already told others about you.” 

“Who?” Tony asks sharply. 

Lincoln comes back with their drinks, asks if they need more time to decide. 

Bucky just goes for it and orders a plate of mini quiche-things that he’s not exactly sure he’ll like. Tony orders something with a perfect accent, because of course he does. 

“You do this often?” 

“Go out to eat? On special occasions, and every other Friday.” 

“Tell me what you want.” 

“Touchy, touchy,” Tony says, unfolding his napkin. “But I...have a deal for you.” 

“And why should I take it?” 

“Because it’s going to benefit SHIELD in the long-run,” Tony says. “And they’re all about benefits, if the rumors hold up against them.”

“And what rumors have you heard?” 

“I’ve heard plenty, although I seem to recall one about a flooded pipeline and a Broadway performance being improvised.” 

Bucky shakes his head. 

“Not true? Damn...” 

Tony looks around the restaurant before his eyes meet with the captivating ones across the table. 

“I have a secret identity. So do you.” 

“And we’re against each other, aren’t we?” 

“Only sometimes,” Tony says. “I essentially steal shit because it’s either random or has a purpose.” 

“And the miniature job you pulled was what, part of a scheme?” 

“Hell no,” Tony says. “A farmer in Montana wanted to see if I could do it because the face vaguely reminded him of his great-grandmother. I also, as a principle, try to steal as much shit from England as possible.” 

That’s funny, so he laughs. 

“And what do you want from me?” Bucky asks. 

“Oh my darling dearest, I want a lot of things from you,” Tony leers. “I only want one thing from SHIELD. I want them to keep my identity secret without any strings attached.” 

“It doesn’t work like that.” 

“I was hoping you wouldn’t say that.” 

“Well, it is what it is,” Bucky says. “I’m not gonna get you what you want, but I think you knew that. That’s why I’m out here dining with you, and I’ll be in the magazines for what, about a week?” 

“And notoriety for all time,” Tony says. “Your face is known, or at least on the internet. You should be prepared for people to ask you to model, by the way. God knows that you could kill it on the runway.” 

Bucky is amused. 

“Aw, you think?” 

“Of course I do. No one is gifted with that amount of shock in their eyes and goes on life being normal.” 

“My, how flattering you are,” Bucky says. 

Lincoln brings their food. Tells them that they can take their time, but there’s the bill. 

“You know who I need to talk to,” Tony says. 

“Maybe I do,” Bucky answers, evasive as possible. 

“I know you got hired for skills, but if it was for lying, then this is child’s play,” Tony says. 

Bucky rolls his eyes. 

“It wasn’t for lying. It was because if I was about two hundred feet away, I could shoot your right pupil out and you wouldn’t even know.” 

“You think I don’t have my own tech encircling the city?” 

“No,” Bucky answers. 

Tony stops sipping on his cider. 

“Explain yourself, blue-eyed wonder.” 

"Because if you’re found out, it destroys every single reputation you’re going to have to build from the start, and the climb to the top is too delicate for that.” 

Tony sits back. 

“I’m impressed.” 

“Don’t be,” Bucky says. “But you’re going to want to meet my boss. I’ll take you to him some time this week, if you need. Or he can meet you.” 

“I doubt he’ll be able to.” 

- 

Okay so maybe Tony shouldn’t have said that, because there is a man with an eye-patch and a truly impressive trench-coat sitting in his office chair. 

“If that’s supposed to be an intimidation tactic, that’s what I learned for my ninth birthday with dear ole’ dad,” Tony says. “Literally none of them work on me.” 

“Then change your ‘visitor’ chairs, they’re damn uncomfortable,” the man says. “My name is Director Fury.” 

“Any first name?” 

“None that you need to know. Barnes told me that you wanted to talk to me about a deal.” 

“I don’t do deals.” 

“And yet you run a business.” 

“Noted,” Tony says, leaning on the window. “So. I want to keep doing what I do, and I want you guys to butt out of it.” 

“And why would we do that?” 

“Because it’s technically only making rich people sad,” Tony says. “And the occasional museum, but oh well. And, I can easily make your life worse.” 

“You think I haven’t been threatened before?” 

“Oh I know you have, what with your sparkling personality and charm,” Tony says. “But I’m threatening the whole of SHIELD. I have been in the dark for a long time, Fury, and as much as you hate to admit it, you don’t know half of what I can do. 

The only thing people really know is that I’m a genius and so was my father, but nothing else. Neat, isn’t it?” 

Fury doesn’t say anything for a moment. 

“What’s your deal?” 

“Glad to know you know what I can do for you,” Tony says. “I can provide security and make sure that every single person has the latest technological updates. I have one stipulation: I get to make Barnes a new arm.” 

“That’s your only condition?” 

“Oh, you’ll be grateful it’s the only thing I’m asking for,” Tony says. “Believe me, I’ll still be annoying. I can promise you that.” 

Fury looks at him carefully. Tony Stark is still a mystery, although he seems to overestimate himself. Or how much Fury can actually see about people. 

“Why Barnes’ arm?” 

“Why not?” Tony asks. “After all, he deserves an arm that looks as nice as he does.” 

“No in-work relationships.” 

“Consider me not an employee,” Tony says. 

“Then you’re not on the payroll.” 

“I don’t have to be paid to get what I want to get,” he remarks. 

Fury gets up from the chair (he’ll make a note to Maria: he needs something like it soon) and gives Tony a pointed look at the doorway. 

“You sure about this?” 

Tony’s eyes gleam. 

“Are you sure you’re ready?” 

- 

Director Fury is not ready. Tony shows up in floral-printed shirts and makes sure to blast rock music wherever he goes, or worse, metal. 

Barnes has never had a good poker face, which is why he’s the sharpshooter. Damned man turns to goo whenever the billionaire struts onto their property. 

But he’s happy about his office chair.