#wheres the lamb sauce!?

[spinning-angel]

Alfred on Hell’s Kitchen

[writing-hat]

honestly skylor should be the gordon ramsay of ninjago

[naturallyred]

Shinji Ikari has all the prerequisites to win Hell's Kitchen

He might cry once or twice, he might even have a breakdown and want to leave the competition but you better believe Shinji survived worse and can give Gordon Ramsay a run for his money

Let Shinji cook

[g0nefischin]

headcannon that Underfell Sans bakes?

[volvosandvampires]

Since we already have memes of Dungeons, Dragons, and Dives, I want a Hell’s Kitchen x Dungeon Meshi crossover. Call it “Hell’s Dungeon,” or “Delicious In Hell.” Whichever is more cursed.

The final boss of the dungeon isn’t a mad mage, it’s just an angry Englishman (I mean, arguably they’re the same thing? lol) Come on, Gordon screaming “where’s the ooze sauce?” at Senshi or calling someone a “Paladin Sandwich” would be peak content!

[toptophat]

Ramsey's bizarre adventures!!!!

[canisbeanz]

Goodnight to everyone except my brother who said 03 Skunk looks like anime Gordon Ramsay and now I can't unsee it

[val-made-a-mistake]

wrote some smut concepts but it's very...british. might try to convert it into more venom smut tho! venom just might be british in this one

[jrueships]

i don't know how to download twitter videos anymore 😭😭 i used to have this awesome paste the link app and the vid will be downloaded but, bcs of this stupid x rebrand, it doesn't recognize the link anymore 😭😭 am i gonna have to go back to screenshots like a Neanderthal

[edwardsissyhandsthtdanceslikeabb]

I've come to realize more and more each day that I'm literally just Will Graham from Hell's Kitchen.

[antibioticfaye]

Gordon Lambsay

[aalt-ctrl-del]

me: "there's no such thing as cringe"

also me: "except when you're a privileged butt chad who's whole youtube shtick is a channel bent on harassing minimal wage workers in their natural habitat to [check notes] "it's a... prank, bruh", doing shit that would get them fired, reprimanded, written up, blacklisted,, or their pay docked. Thus inducing stress in an already stressed environment where people are already getting screamed at by karens, and bothering people who are just fuking tryin to do the shopping and go home so they can process the bullshit day."

"especially when you're a 21 year old pandering to a 12 ye old fan base."

"That. That there is cringe. And you deserved to get shot."

[randommstuffsposts]

[sunnzii]

They are so real for this

"crime kitchen" the ahit hells kitchen but instead of gordon ramsey we have an aggressive lesbian and her short gf

It's like a much more stressful good cop bad cop because you can't even say anything to make it stop

[skyholdscribe]

so its pretty obvious the antivan crows are based off of mafia families. and how they sometimes work at their ‘fronts’ (family restaurants/businesses) to avoid police, like the cantori diamond.

do you think lucanis is able to cook so well because he worked in the casino’s kitchen?? filling orders and plating dishes, yelling ‘where is the lamb saUCE’ between contracts

in modernity he’d be making the greatest pizza in that shady neighborhood joint run by the dellamortes

[tinypandacakes]

Trapper, Keeper — Ch. 16: Always

Tags: dubious consent, dark romance, power imbalance, gaslighting, manipulation, yandere, Stockholm syndrome, injury recovery, fluff and smut, slice of life, implied non-consensual drug use, size difference, gratuitous use of pet names, metaphors, and descriptions of König's eyes

Wc: 16k [172k total]

When it was time for König to prepare dinner, you hovered at his elbow like a nosy housecat, tail wrapped around his calf as you signaled a need for attention. You were close enough that your hand brushed against the side of his sweatpants, and your clammy fingers instinctively gripped at the material. Eventually, he glanced over his shoulder at you, head tilting in question.

“Do you need something, Hase?”

You blinked, chastised, even though his tone was gentle. “No,” you replied, unsure. “I dunno.”

König let out a soft sigh. It was an affectionate sound, airy and light, not annoyed — otherwise, you might have burst into tears on the spot, as fragile as you felt — but like the kind of noise he might have uttered to a lamb, bleating sadly with its tiny hoof caught in a fence.

He lifted you onto the counter beside him, and you settled in, hands retreating into your too-long sleeves. Sitting there might have been awkward, but he pressed a cookbook into your lap, offering you something to do. You kept a thumb between the pages he needed and flipped through while your sock-covered feet dangled over the cabinets, lightly tapping the wood. Some of the age-yellowed pages were moisture-damaged from spills or speckled with spattered sauces. The corners were discolored from spice-dusted fingers, evidence of recipes well-loved, cooked again and again until they were committed to memory.

König tucked up his hood and brought a spoonful of sauce up to his pursed lips, blowing gently over the steaming surface. He tasted thoughtfully then licked away a stray droplet at the corner of his mouth, swiping his lips clean, leaving them soft and damp.

You realized you were staring and looked away quickly, busying yourself by flicking through to the dessert section of the cookbook. But your eyes soon drifted from the cakes and pastries back to König, hunched over the stove. His forearms flexed as he slid a pan back and forth across the flame, skin and scar shifting enticingly over muscle and bone. The swell of his pecs and softness of his belly were faintly outlined by his shirt, soft cotton clinging, offering a preview of what lay below. Something deep inside of you heated up just like the pad of butter he added to the skillet, melting and sizzling across the surface.

This was dangerous.

His hood fell back over his mouth and beard, excess fabric pooling around his shoulders. You squeezed your thighs together, subtly chasing relief. He didn’t get fully undressed before you often — or ever, had he? No, only bits and pieces here and there, other than the time you'd spied on him as he got dressed after his shower. You felt just as lecherous now as you did then, eyes drifting lower, below the waistband of his sweatpants where the curve of his ass was unmistakable through the fleece.

“See anything you like?” König asked, eyes darting to you in a sideways glance.

“Oh, I—” You jolted at his words, eyes snapping up. Your mouth dried in an instant, coherent thought evaporating just as quickly. “Sorry?”

He nodded toward the book in your hands. “The recipes,” he offered. “Did you find one you like?”

“Um, yeah,” you replied absently, realizing you were at the index now, not even on a recipe anymore. You swiped back a few pages before he noticed, landing on a carefully decorated cake. “Well. They…all sound good.” You cringed inside, sure you looked as foolish as you sounded.

“I should have known you would go right to dessert.” His eyes flicked from the page to your face. “Craving something sweet, little one?” His eyes narrowed with an unseen smile, but you could hear the mirth in his voice, a gentle tease that brought heat to life across your cheeks like stoked coals.

You stared numbly down at the cake recipe you’d landed on, then back up at him. He leaned forward, just barely invading your space. Your chin was already tilting of its own accord, eager to agree with him — yes, yes — pleasant and tame under his gaze.

“Mm,” he hummed knowingly, his eyes fixed on yours instead of the dips and swirls of chocolate icing and glossy red cherries printed on the page. He leaned closer yet, voice dropping as if he was letting you in on a secret. “That’s alright. I am too.”

You can the entire chapter on AO3 ☺️ please consider leaving a kudos and comment if you enjoyed it. If you’d like to support my writing and fuel my caffeine habit, here’s my kofi >:3 https://ko-fi.com/tinypandacakes