#👨‍🍳

[honeylionbaby]

Pre-Season Testing 2024

[isawthesainz]

scuderiaferrari The chef hat suits you, @/CarlosSainz55 👨‍🍳

[kittarts]

Hi! I never knew I needed your art until now! I LOVE your Corline Au! Have you written any fics or comics for it yet?

Thankyou!! Thats so kind. I haven’t written any fics or comics for it yet, I’ve been working on a comic storyline for a good while and it’s got its bones but need’s polishing ☺️ it’s my first time doing this and getting so far so I’m trying not to get impatient with myself and rush anything haha

[spicycinnabun]

Yes, Chef

WC: 696 🥟 Rated: G 🥟 Read on Ao3!

“Table four said their chicken Kyiv isn’t saucy enough,” Ian said, sliding the plate across the heated pass. He braced himself for a blowup as he added, “They want another one.”

“A chicken Kyiv don’t have sauce, first of all,” Chef Milkovich’s grumpy voice answered him. “It’s filled with garlic butter. I can’t pump ‘em with any more, or they’ll burst. They already have enough to clog a fuckin’ artery.”

“I know, Mick—Chef,” Ian corrected himself. He ran a hand through his hair, tired from pasting on his customer service smile all night. “That’s just what she said.”

Mickey slammed his spatula down. He grabbed the plate, staring down at it. All that was left on it was the picked-over salad. The feta and tomatoes were missing; it was just a sad pile of arugula. “So, did the chicken disappear into thin fuckin’ air? Must have been plenty saucy enough for her to eat the whole fuckin’ thing. I ain’t re-firing this unless they’re payin’ for a double.”

“Yes, Chef. I’ll pass along the message.” Ian’s lips twitched into a genuine smile. Why was Milkovich kinda cute when he got all worked up? (He was worked up ninety-nine percent of the time.)

“Just call me Mickey,” Mickey said distractedly, turning his back on Ian, already busy firing another order from his queue of tickets. “Hate that ‘Chef’ shit.”

“Okay, Mickey.” Ian saw Mickey’s shoulders relax a little as he dropped a basket of perogies into the deep fryer.

Ian straightened one of Mickey’s tickets after noticing it barely hanging onto its clip, and then he returned to the front of the house to break the news to his oh-so-lovely patron.

*

After dinner service, he caught Mickey outside, tattooed and burn-scarred fingers loosely holding a cigarette, chef whites now stained colorfully from a busy night. Ian didn’t bother saying anything—he could see the exhaustion on Mickey’s face, in the crinkles of his downturned eyes, and Ian, himself, had been talking almost nonstop since four PM.

They shared a moment of peace, leaning against the brick wall of the alley behind the restaurant and decompressing. Ian loosened his tie and watched Mickey’s full lips purse and pinch. Watched him exhale smoke as powerfully as the oven when someone left a tray of pyrizhky in for too long.

Finally, Mickey rubbed his nose and glanced at Ian almost self-consciously. “Fuck you lookin’ at?”

You. “Nothing, sorry,” Ian responded, looking down the alleyway instead.

“I got somethin’ on my face?” Mickey wiped at his cheeks, then his forehead, frowning.

Ian chuckled. “No.”

Mickey let out an irritable huff. “Fuckin’ what, then?”

“Can I bum one?” Ian asked, even though that wasn’t what he wanted. He’d stopped smoking a few years ago.

“Fine, but bring your own next time, freckles.” Instead of giving Ian a new cigarette, Mickey held out his own.

Ian accepted it and took a drag. This time, he was the one being watched. Mickey’s eyes were piercing, and he was about as subtle as a brick. Ian enjoyed that about him. “Fuck you lookin’ at?” he teased.

“Fuck off,” Mickey said, but Ian noticed a rosiness growing along his ears. He pushed off the wall. “See ya tomorrow, Gallagher.”

“Call me Ian.” Or any of the other nicknames Mickey liked to use. “Hate that ‘Gallagher’ shit.”

He really did. It was a tag he used to be proud to wear, or at least faithful towards, in the same way a golden retriever was loyal to their owner even if said owner was horrible to them, but he didn’t like Mickey using it.

“Gonna call you Polly if you keep mimickin’ me,” Mickey griped. Ian laughed, and Mickey turned back to face him. “Alright. Ian. Happy?”

“That was difficult for you, huh.” Ian smiled at him, though. Slowly. He liked how his name sounded coming from the big boss. “Thanks.”

Mickey looked suddenly flustered, shifting his weight, hands twitching by his sides like they didn’t know what to do with themselves. “Yeah. You’re welcome. Whatever.”

Had Ian made him nervous?

Mickey went back inside the restaurant at record speed, the door slamming behind him. Ian grinned.

[ciccerone]

[emoji-max]

[watching-pictures-move]

I got a YouTube ad for OnlyFans, but it was a chef promoting his culinary content. Is this what people are jacking off to these days?

[riaki]

i literally cant stop thinkin’ about highschoolbully!gojo who used to be your ride or die ‘til he started getting attention from those popular jock type guys who are always assholes to everyone. and him being.. well, him means he preens under attention no matter who it’s from, so naturally he started to gravitate towards that group and their little troop of cheerleading fangirls. and then he started distancing from you and without either of you really realizing it, you’ve slipped between the other’s fingers. but the way he acts towards you makes you think he let you fall without moving a muscle to slow you down.

soon enough, a year swings by and by the end of it he’s gone from your life, save as just another face in the gaggle of boys who make crude jokes and laugh at smart kids and pop milk cartoons during lunch just for the hell of it. but you’re minding your own business, ‘cause you’re mature enough to realize that people come and go, no matter how close you might’ve been and you think it’s unfortunate that so many memories could be thrown aside in a blink of an eye, but it makes a lot of sense when you walk past satoru and his friends bullying some random kid. you don’t know him, but you’ve heard enough to realize it’s his girlfriend satoru’s flirting with while his ‘gang’ kick at the kid. and it’s sickening, but you don’t say anything when you walk by.

and when you don’t ever see the kid afterward and catch the dark eyebags under his girlfriend’s eyes, you come to the cruel realization that satoru isn’t the boy who’d bandage the scrape on your knee you got from tripping in the playground or buy you a soda because he’s noticed your sweat when you were walking home and you don’t have any money left on you.

it’s a glass half empty, half full type of situation. on the one hand, you don’t have him anymore. on the other hand, you don’t have him anymore. that is, you lost your best friend, but you’ve also lost someone who has the potential to absolutely ruin your life. and you don’t know whether to be glad or not, so you just mind your own business even if it hurts a little when he ignores you, stops tossing paper at your head in class (unless it’s to embarrass you) and stops walking you to and from school.

but the cherry on top of the shit cake is that he doesn't get it. so when he approaches you in the library one day after satiating the need to tear pages from books and make them into paper airplanes to throw at people, he doesn't seem to understand why you try to ignore him, or put off his attempts to hold a convo. but the worst part is that he's just sleazy and clueless about it. it's like he took an eraser and wiped every single year of your friendship off the chalkboard with one fell swipe, and you wish he'd done that too to the less-than-appropriate messages he and his friends had written towards one of your classmates.

he doesn't understand why you're hesitant to talk, and that's what makes it the worst. he always thinks he's in the right, and he keeps setting you off and it sucks that he knows exactly what sets you off. "i'm an asshole? what're you talking about? really, you're in over your head. you never change." he laughs, and you ignore him, and he gets bored, and he's about to leave when he spots your wallet open next to your book, on the table. there's a polaroid peeking out, and he recognizes the tufts of white hair to be him. but there's a weird feeling in his chest, and he thinks he gets it from you, so he leaves because he thinks you're weird.

and it goes on; you practically become a nobody in satoru's eyes, because of that weird, weird feeling you give him. it's unfamiliar and he's never gotten it before and he doesn't like it. but it's unavoidable when your professor pairs you two for the end-of-term project. and of course, you're ready to do all the work, because that's how it always was between you when you were kids. but sometimes he'd surprise you by helping, and he'd show you that he was actually intelligent just to earn your praise because he liked it. but he ignored you, and you did everything, and it would've been okay if not for his friends egging him on to present your entire project when the day came and leave you with no content for a grade.

that's the first time it hits him: does he really want to do that? but it's not like it'll be the first time; you've always taken the hits for him, because you're naturally smart and you'll pick yourself back up in no time, and you get why he does it, so it'll be okay. so he agrees, and he enjoys the time he gets to spend with you through it, but the nagging weird feeling that blooms in his chest like a pesky weed only grows stronger. that's all his feelings ever seem to do around you.

but before you know it, presentation day swings around. you had coffee this morning (on his card), and you're ready enough to shoot him a small smile that sends his heart a-flutter. so you go up, feeling up to the task and ready until— he starts talking, and talking, and talking, and people don't think that he's taking your words out of your mouth because he's intelligent when he wants to make you praise him and you don't get the chance to get a word in and you notice the guys are laughing and hitting each other's shoulders to themselves in the upper rows and before you know it it's over. people are clapping but moreso they're looking at you and they're whispering— but it's terribly loud and they don't bother to hide it. they call you things that shouldn't bother you but they do anyway, because it's satoru's fault, and you're such a fool for thinking you could have it your way again.

so you leave class early, excusing yourself and ignoring the way your professor gives you a distasteful look and scribbles something next to your name. you're out the door in a second, neglecting your bags and satoru's a little lost because— didn't he just do good? people were clapping, and laughing with him and not at him, but it's attention either way so he doesn't mind. so why do you? why did you look at him like he stabbed you in the back? and his friends are calling his name, and he wishes he could chase after you and do something but he doesn't.

and it's a little sickening what they do next; one of their girls grabbed your bags and tossed it to them, and they've started rifling through it as if they own it, tearing up your shit and dumping everything onto the ground and he's kind of just... glued to the chair by his feelings. his heart feels like it's been patched together and the weird fuzzy feeling he had in his chest that's been cultivating has extinguished to be replaced with something he realizes he's only ever felt when it comes to you— guilt.

he's so lost in his thoughts that he doesn't realize his friend is silently offering him something— nudging his side to get his attention. he takes it without really realizing he moved his hand, and his silent friend with the gauges in his ears and the dark hair gets up and leaves without another word. when satoru looks down, he realizes he's been given your wallet. "the reward for betraying your baby," they call it. like all you're worth is the money in your account.

he's a little curious. that's how he's always been; asking you questions, rummaging through your stuff, laughing sheepishly and shaking it off when you caught him red-handed. so he opens it up, ignoring your sad little cards and the funny look on your license. he's looking for something, subconsciously; but he doesn't find it. there's no white tuft of hair to suggest his presence in your life; just empty black leather. nothing else.

and he doesn't see you after. or the following day. or the following weeks; weeks that turn into months that turn into the end of school and he's graduating but you're not by his side. and neither are his so called 'friends'; the only thing he has to their name is your own ruined friendship. it's a shame; he feels alone. very alone. no fuzzy weird feeling, not even that thing people call guilt. no attention to chase, and connections are ever harder to make. it shouldn'tve mattered that much, right? it was just a presentation. why wouldn't you just come back to him like you always did? were you not still friends...?

but the blood is still on his hands, and he doesn't manage to ever wash it off. guilt has a way of festering; of weighing on the heart 'till there's nothing left to feel or think but unfortunate circumstance and what could've been done differently. it just sucks that he never tried hard enough to keep you from slipping between his grasp. and now, he doesn't even have a polaroid to your friendship's name.

pt.2

[eeoollaa]

FINALLY made a half decent baked good since those seven layer cookies

[cgkuan]

🔥👨‍🍳 . . . . #tattoolife #tattoolovers #tattoostyle #tattooideas #tattooart #tattooed #tattoo #tattoos #tattooartist #tattoolove #cgkuanworld #cgkuanart #cgkuan #tattooink #tattooing #tatuajes #cheftattoo #cook #cooking #👨‍🍳 #cocina https://www.instagram.com/p/CjllfmBp-AG/?igshid=NGJjMDIxMWI=

[kindahoping4forever]

Yes chef

[asteraws]

hunter and the apothecary

[polkadotjohnson]

A Killer of Men (2015)

[strqyr]

thinking out loud here, but... now with all of the beyond episodes out, i'm starting to wonder if the goal is to actually return to vale for the final battle.

for one, the final battle of the great war that lead to peace happened in vacuo, exactly the kingdom everyone is in currently. that's where the preparations are happening, that's the kingdom that everyone is primed to defend. but what i also find interesting about the great war battle is that the king of vale arrived with what are very likely to be the sword of destruction and the crown of choice—exactly the relics salem currently doesn't have.

then there's 'boba' and the very on-the-nose way of pointing that tai is doing something important in vale / patch that prevents him from being in vacuo. and like. it's the crown, right. or specifically, the vault that houses the crown; the whole point of the academies was to house the vaults that house the relics so that they would be surrounded by people capable of defending the academies at all times. and if the vault isn't at beacon—which is likely because salem hasn't found it yet, and at haven cinder points out how that vault looks way cooler than the one in beacon so what's the extra effort for, and i get the feeling it's not so much that any extra effort has gone to haven's vault, but rather that beacon's "vault" isn't really a vault to begin with—then obviously ozpin wouldn't leave it completely unguarded, but it also must be done discreetly as to not give the game away; and that's where tai comes in.

and because they made it so apparent in 'boba', it doesn't sound like a thing that's going to get addressed once they're done in vacuo and are ready to move back to vale, it sounds like it's imminent, something teased for V10 if / when it happens.

the king of vale had the sword and the crown. the resistance in vacuo is still in possession of the sword so that's accounted for, but getting the crown is a trickier problem to solve (if they're going for "ozma's side has the crown and the sword (like the king of vale did) while salem has the lamp and the staff" angle here).

enter 'the adventures of somewhat'. somewhat, in their cloak reminiscent of ruby's, talks to the red prince, who still has the scar on his face.

the red prince's purpose is to win the game. cinder holds the key to their victory. the red prince has sent all his followers away. cinder no longer has emerald and mercury by her side.

the red prince promises to help somewhat in their task if they beat him in the game. his purpose is to win that game.

"that doesn't seem very fair. what if my purpose was to win, too?" "such is the way of our life." "what if it doesn't have to be? i'm still new here, but i've met loads of afterans and people that have grown and found new things to do, even without going to the tree."

what if they don't need to be enemies locked in a battle they both want to win. what if it could be different: "who knows, maybe you could teach others to win. speaking of, i won! i think? i'm sorry."

with this little, simple conversation, somewhat left a somewhat of a big impression on the prince; and while he didn't join somewhat to keep his promise of helping them (that we saw of), he also dropped the tree leaves he could use to ascend.

and there was one less wrong thing in the ever after.

cinder holds the key to salem's victory. could she hold it for someone else—"maybe you could teach others to win"? could ruby get a chance to talk to cinder in the same way somewhat did with the prince, leaving an impression that gets cinder to change her mind? what if they don't need to be two enemies, pawns on a board, locked in battle?

the red prince promised to help if somewhat beat him in the game. they did. and i think this is something that might just happen with ruby and cinder too, and that's how the vacuo resistance gets hold of the crown.

all they need is a small team to head to vale to retrieve it, return to vacuo, and the grand stage of the final battle of the great war is once again set.

[petit-papillion]

Charles spotting the camera as always ♦️

Monaco GP Practice Day | 24 May 2024

📸 Dylan Meiffret

[suckmyarschkarte]

they're them