#garlic soup week

[garlicsoupweek]

TealOranges & Garlic Soup Week 2024!

Welcome to TealOranges & Garlic Soup Week 2024!! This prompt week is a celebration of all things Jim/Oluwande and Archie/Jim/Oluwande/Zheng. The week runs from June 23-29, 2024, with themes and prompts for each day. We are so pleased to announce the prompts for this week!

While this is TealOranges (Jim/Oluwande) and Garlic Soup Polycule (Archie/Jim/Oluwande/Zheng) week, we encourage and welcome any mix and match ships as well! Feel like writing Jim/Zheng? Go for it! Want to draw some Archie/Oluwande? We can't wait!

You are welcome and encouraged to use as many or as little of the prompts and themes as you feel like. We welcome any fan creations, including art, fic, fanvids or video edits, crafts, and anything else!

We hope you enjoy these prompts, and cannot wait to see everything that you create!!!

Information

Additional information and FAQ about the week can be found here!

Plain text for the slides can also be found here!

This year's Ao3 Collection can be found here!

If you have any questions about the prompts or the week, please feel free to drop us an ask!! Links to connect with the Garlic Soup Team can also be found in our bio, along with our Twitter and Linktree.

[Image description/plain text (copied from Alt Text): Four slides, each in shades of orange and featuring art of a steaming bowl of soup beside oranges and garlic. The soup bowl has orange blossoms on it. The slides read as follows:

TealOranges & Garlic Soup Prompt Week

Sunday June 23 - Saturday June 29

A celebration of all things Jim/Oluwande and Archie/Jim/Oluwande/Zheng!

Create - Write, draw, anything!

Share - Your favourite fics, art, and other fan creations!

#GarlicSoupWeek

Prompts

Sunday - Oranges Planting a garden | First Meetings/First Dates | Backstory exploration

Monday – Soup Making food together | Sick Fic | Acts of service

Tuesday – Found Family Meet the family | Soulmate AU | Friends to Lovers

Wednesday – Cursed Coat Curse Breaking | Fighting | Hurt/Comfort

Thursday – Fucked Up Room Situation Polycule negotiations | Only One Bed | Finding a new home

Friday - Garlic (NSFW) First time together | Group Sex | Exploring a new kink

Saturday - Dealer’s Choice Mix up the pairings! Try a new AU! Do what you want, babes!

Rules/Notes

You are welcome to use these prompts to create at any time after the week is over!

Any mix of Garlic Soup pairings welcome!

NSFW welcome for any prompt. Tag for warnings/NSFW. No underage NSFW please.

Tag @GarlicSoupWeek on Twitter and Tumblr so we can share your stuff!

Ao3 Collection: GarlicSoupWeek2024

End ID.]

[thetragicallynerdy]

wip wednesday - soulmate AU style

“Hey,” Jim whispers, tracing nonsense patterns on Oluwande’s lovely skin with one fingertip, hours before he will be dragged away from them. “How many colours do you see?”

His voice is drowsy, sated, mouth soft when it presses against Jim’s forehead. “Just one. It’s real pretty. Bright, like – like what I imagine the sun to feel like.”

That’s not what their colour is like. Jim’s feels like the ocean, the starry night sky, the soothing cool of aloe on their skin.

“Huh,” they say. “Weird.”

--

(later, later)

Izzy’s leg goes in the ocean. Jim and Archie leave Frenchie with Fang, and slip away to wash the blood off their bodies. And she’s almost expecting it not to come up again, but as soon as they’re alone Jim turns to her, hands cupping her face, kissing her just as softly as before. Archie’s head goes a little blank, and she lets them hold her, kissing back until Jim breaks away and presses their forehead to hers.

“Tell me why my colours changed when we first touched,” they whisper. “Tell me why touching you now makes them so much brighter, just like when I touched him.”

Oluwande, Archie’s mind supplies, the lost soulmate. “I don’t know,” she whispers back, “all I know is that I’ve never seen colour a day in my life until I met you.”

It’s the cheesiest thing she’s ever fucking said. But Jim makes a low noise deep in their throat, and then they’re kissing her with a desperation that she understands far, far too well. And then their mouths are occupied with better things, and they stop talking altogether.

--

AN: These two snippets are from a longer Jim/Archie/Oluwande/Zheng soulmate AU that I'm doing for @garlicsoupweek!!

If you're a Jim/Olu or Archie/Jim/Olu/Zheng fan, go check out Garlic Soup Week, it's a prompt week focusing on our beloved TealOranges and Garlic Soup Polycule (and any mix and match Archie/Jim/Olu/Zheng pairings)!! Prompts got shared last week, and the week is in late June!!

[gentlebeardsbarngrill]

04/09/2024 Daily OFMD Recap

TLDR; Rachel House; Jes Tom; Kat Buchanan; GypsyTaylor; Big Gay Energy Podcast; Unicorn Day; Uproar; Watch Party Reminders; Fan Spotlights: OurDragMeansSlay; Cast Cards; TealOrange & Garlic Soup Prompt Week! Love Notes; Daily Darby/Today's Taika

== Rachel House ==

Rachel House's new directorial movie topped the charts in Taranaki!

== Jes Tom ==

Gonna be in New York in May? Well Jes Tom and lot's over other asian comics will be performing at the 2024 Asian Comedy Fest! For tickets visit: asiancomedyfest.com. 2024 Asian Comedy Fest IG

== Kay Buchanan ==

Kay Buchanan, one of the prop designers for OFMD s2 dumped a bunch of prop pics today for Izzy's leg! Src: Kay Buchanan IG

== Unicorn Day! ==

Yesterday was National Unicorn! Some of our lovely crew put out some dedications For Our New Unicorn! Img Src: @blueberreads

== More Uproar News! ==

Uproar is coming to digital on April 30 so those of you who couldnt get in to a theatre to see it can purchase and download it at home!

For those still interested in theatres-- if you happen to be nearby, @elby3000 was kind enough to note that theUproar opening date at Salem Cinema (Oregon) of April 12 at Blue Fox Entertainment may be in error. The theatre's website lists opening as April 19 (subject to change). Just in case you happy to be looking for one there!

== Watch Party Reminders! ==

== Flight Of the Conchords ==

Today we're on Season 1 Ep 5 and 6. Join OFMD Crew, and @iamadequate1 this week for Flight of the Conchords watch parties! You can watch each day at 4pm PT, 7 pm ET, 11pm BST! If you don't have access, feel free to join us on the #RhysDarbyFaction Discord server, you can hit me up for an invite.

Hashtags:

#FlagOfTheConchords

#OurFlagMeansDeath

== Taskmaster NZ ==

*Please Note*: @ineffablecollision was kind enough to let us know of some desyncing issues! Thanks friend!

"During the TMNZ watch party, depending on where you watch, you *will* get desynced! I don't know if TVNZ kept the ad break bumpers, but Ch4 has one missing (TMNZ has four ad breaks compared to TMUK's three, so they cut to fit), and YT has them cut altogether!"

Series 1 continues Weds at 11am PT / 2 pm ET / 7 pm BST on any of the @saveofmdcrewmates socials.

#Quartermaster

#OurFlagMeansDeath

Taskmaster

== Fan Spotlight ==

= Big Gay Energy Podcast =

Our Big Gay Energy Podcast interviewed Gypsy Taylor and we learned some pretty amazing things. Some highlights:

Stede's cravat was fabric left over from his old couch

Ed kept the teal robe (the one he wears the morning after calypso) as a memory of Stede and then Taika kept the robe after the show.

Please check out the whole episode below!

Where to Watch Where to Listen

= Our Drag Means Slay =

Hey all! Are you in the Chicago area? Why not checkout Our Drag Means Slay on April 27! It's $25/ticket and doors open at 5:55pm! For Tickets

= Teal Oranges & Garlic Soup Week! =

A new celebration week is coming up in June for all things Jim/Oluwande and Archie/Jim/Oluwande/Zheng (or any combo in between!) Prompts will be released on April 15th!

When: Sunday June 23 - Saturday June 29th! How: Create or Share - Fic, art, and other fan creations!

Please follow them on Tumblr! @garlicsoupweek You can visit: Linktr.ee Or follow them on Twitter!

= Cast Cards =

Today's cast card is Jennifer Onyeiwu, one of the lovely pirates that asked Stede out for a drink in "Man On Fire". If we ever get a s3 I hope she comes back-- thanks @melvisik!

== Love Notes ==

Hey lovelies. This weeks turning out to be a bit of a doozy. I hope you all are practicing some self care. It's been a lot lately. I have seen a lot of you mentioning re-watching the show, which I love. It feels like we are getting past the raw part of our grief into being able to celebrate it as a group again.

Be kind to yourselves lovelies, be kind to yourself and others. There's enough hate in this world that we don't need to add undo stress to others or especially ourselves.

Love you crew.

Img Src: @BethDrawsThings IG

== Daily Darby / Today's Taika ==

The theme today is, there are two wolves inside of me, both of these gifs represent them

Darby Gif Courtesy of @ofmd-ann

Taika Gif Courtesy of @gentlepanpirate

[mothric]

if you ever make soup from scratch and you sit down and have a fresh bowl and you think to yourself "this is good and flavourful but it's just missing a liiittle something" that's the devil talking to you. let the flavours marinate overnight and taste it again the next day, it'll be great. if it's still missing something then try adding a little salt to your bowl. but do NOT mess with a finished soup.

signed, someone who ruined their perfectly good soup with too much salt and garlic powder after it was already done and may have cried a little bit about it this morning

[nordfjording]

Does anyone have good suggestions for meal types/spice/taste profiles that go exceptionally well with ground deer?

Note: Not looking for specific recipies per se (hopeless endeavor as I am difficult re:ingredients) but just. Wherever I can shove it into basics. We do the traditional steaks and roasts and meatballs but have a dire need for expansion (and freezer space)

[steelycunt]

made an excellent soup we're gonna be alright!!

[shyspider]

I know you've not been feeling well, but I was so sad to hear that something else got thrown onto your plate. We don't talk much, but I've been thinking about you and wanted to wish you a speedy recovery.

Also since I can't give you actual soup, I drew you some soup.

This was incredibly sweet and adorable to see. Your drawn soup had done more for me than actual soup.

It feels so inadequate to just say "thank you", but it's probably also too much to say "give me your amazon wishlist so I can gift you something."

So I'll just say that this genuinely meant a lot to me, and thank you so much for this, because it made me smile so much.

[peoplefromheaven]

A week of cooking:

Monday: feta baked pasta

Tuesday: avocado cheese toasts

Wednesday: chickpea curry with rice

Thursday: sausages and parsley mashed potato

Friday: tomato soup with garlic bread

Saturday: spaghetti bolognaise

[acrosstimeandspace]

chicken and rice soup 🥰

[47-protons]

ive spent too much of the weekend reading an old fic series (”old” as if it isn’t still being updated) that i first discovered when i was in highschool and now my brain keeps waxxing poetic about shit

[garlicsoupweek]

Calling all TealOranges and Garlic Soup OFMD fans! We're announcing TealOranges & Garlic Soup week, a prompt week focusing on Jim/Oluwande and Archie/Jim/Oluwande/Zheng (and any combination of pairings among them)!!

This prompt week will run Sunday June 23 - Saturday June 29. Prompts and more information will be released next Monday April 15! Follow us on tumblr here, or we can be found on twitter.

We can't wait to see what you create!!

[Image Description: A graphic with text reading:

TealOranges & Garlic Soup Prompt Week

Saturday June 23 - Saturday June 29

What: A celebration of all things Jim/Oluwande and Archie/Jim/Oluwande/Zheng (or any combination of pairings among them! )

How: Create or Share - Fic, art, and other fan creations!

Prompts released April 15!

#GarlicSoupWeek

The graphic is in shades of orange, and has art of a soup bowl with oranges and garlic cloves around it in one corner. End ID.]

[087710]

we do not buy this brand bc generic garlic bread is just as good when you cook it in a skillet, but also how dare this ad play on my weakness when i do not even have the money for generic garlic toast rn

[mrdixon]

bread and tomato soup

pairing: established daryl x f!reader

wc: 5.4k

warnings: 18+ content, lots of plot, insecurity, the bath scene, readers on top!, not much of a power dynamic here, but theres teasing, squirting, little teeny bit of fingering, bit of a creampie too, daryl being cute

summary: daryl returns after three weeks, and reader decides to take care of him.

A/N: its january 3rd which means its MY BIRTHDAY :3 so here is just a fic about taking care of daryl in multiple different ways ;3 also just an excuse to talk about food im starving

masterlist

The house smelled of bread, the tap running as you washed your hands under it. Daryl has been on an expedition for about three weeks now, leaving you with nothing else to do but keep yourself busy. You got a lot of stuff done but you were still lonely.

You hummed to yourself as you moved over to the stove, taking a wooden spoon and stirring the tomato soup you were cooking. The sun was just starting to set, golden rays peeked through the curtains to leave kisses on your cheeks when you turned your head to the right. You lifted the spoon up to your lips, savouring the savoury but sweet taste of the soup. Something was missing, perhaps a bit of garlic? Thyme? You put some more of both in, stirring the soup a bit before tasting it again. A smile appeared on your face after deciding it was good enough, turning off the stove and putting the lid on top of the pot.

You bent down to check on the bread in the oven, the smell of sweet yeast filling your nostrils. It was perfect, nicely rounded and crisp on the outside. Closing the oven, you turned it off and reached back to undo your apron.

You almost missed the sound of the door opening, but you didn't. You quickly ran out of the kitchen and towards the entryway, seeing Daryl wiping his boots on the mat. You didn't think twice before jumping at him, hearing a grunt from him as he caught you with one arm, the other holding his bag. You kissed his cheeks repeatedly, his face scrunching up while the hand on your back gently rubbed you.

“Alrigh’ not too much,” he mumbled before setting you down and kissing your forehead. You looked down sheepishly, hugging him again.

“Sorry, I missed you.” You murmured, his calloused hand making its way through your hair while he smiled slightly.

“Dun’ apologize,” he chuckled. He smelled of sweat and mud with a hint of walker blood, but you didn't seem to care at all. The aroma was oddly comforting, and just the presence of him was enough for you. Deciding to revel in the moment, you snuggled into his chest as a soft sigh escaped your lips.

“How was your trip?” You breathed in, taking in his scent. He kept a hand on your lower back, shuffling you both out of the entryway of your home and placing his bag down. He just exhaled deeply at your question, his fingers tightening a little.

“Jus’ ta same ol’ thing.” He mumbled with a bit of a shrug as he let you go, “killed a bunch of walkers, found some supplies. Same ol’ song and dance.” His hand landed on your shoulder and gave you a reassuring squeeze after noticing your concern. You however did not let it go.

“What’s wrong, hm?” You brought your arms up to his shoulders, looking up at him. He sighed, wrapping his own arms around your waist as his gaze darted around the house. His brows furrowed slightly, his expression changing.

“Nothin’, nothin’..” he muttered shaking his head, “jus’ got a lot in my head.” You frowned but didn't want to press further, instead nodding and moving away to let him get settled.

Daryl’s jaw clenched as he watched you move away from him, feeling slightly disappointed that the physical contact was broken. The moment quickly passed as his head perked up at the smell of freshly baked bread. You noticed his expression and chuckled, taking his hand.

“Want me to run you a bath? You can eat afterwards,” you smiled softly at him. He visibly tensed at the mention of a bath, his hand squeezing yours.

“Nah, ‘m good.” He sniffed, wiping his nose. You scrunched up your nose, chuckling.

“You sure? You’ve been out for three weeks, you're dirty.” You snorted, looking him up and down. You were right, his clothes were gross and probably stinky, his hair disheveled. “You're taking a bath, come.” You gently tugged him along with you.

“Alright… I’ll… I’ll take a bath,” he grumbled, his tone laced with annoyance. You rubbed his hand gently and entered the bathroom with him.

Daryl sighed heavily and his shoulders slumped, but he allowed himself to be dragged around by you. He stood by the counter while you went to fill up the bath with warm water, eventually returning back to him. You placed your hands on the buttons of his vest, looking up at him for permission to undress him.

His eyes shifted to the side slightly, uncomfortable under your scrutiny. His expression changed once your nimble fingers started unbuttoning his vest slowly, and after looking into your eyes for a few seconds more, he looked away and muttered, “go for it.”

You smiled at him softly, letting his vest fall to the floor before starting at his button-up. He stood by silently, watching you undress him without making any comments. The process felt slightly intimate and he felt a warm feeling in his stomach as he looked over you, and he didn't protest or try to stop you from doing your thing.

You let his shirt fall next to his vest, letting your fingers trace along the muscles of his arm, watching them tense under your graze. His breath hitched as your fingers danced down his sides, landing on his holster belt. You carefully unbuckled it and placed it on the counter.

He shifted his weight, continuing to stand silent as you did what you wanted. He couldn’t ignore the feelings of intimacy beginning to rise within him. Your hands slid back down to the belt holding up his pants, unbuckling it with practiced skill. Your fingers soon unbuttoned and unzipped his pants, letting it fall to the floor. Daryl shivered lightly at the sudden coolness on his skin, looking down at you for a moment, his expression shifting slightly at how eager you seemed to be at undressing him.

You looked up at him briefly before pulling down his boxers, looking away to give him some sort of privacy. He quickly turned towards the mirror, seemingly avoiding his image as he turned away just as quick. You turned back to him and smiled softly, taking his hand and kissing it gently. He felt his skin warming up and his cheeks flushed slightly, you’ve seen him naked before but this felt more intimate… somehow. The situation made him feel quite vulnerable, but despite his discomfort he remained silent and still.

You squeezed his hand reassuringly and led him towards the tub. Daryl followed you, feeling a tingle in his abdomen from the butterflies you arouse in him. He stepped into the bath, groaning softly once he sunk down into the waiting water. His eyes closed, letting out a sigh of relief as he relaxed in the warmth of the bath. You leaned over to turn off the tap, letting him sit in silence.

“Wait here? I’m just gonna put your clothes away and get you some new ones,” you murmured softly, watching his eyes peek open to look at you. He nodded contently, closing his eyes again. You nodded and left the bathroom quietly with his dirty clothes.

Daryl sat in the bath, leaning back against the rim. He was starting to feel more and more relaxed by the minute as he let the warm water wash away some of the filth on his skin. He sat patiently for a few minutes while waiting for your return.

You came back into the bathroom, some clean clothes and a rag in hand. The clean clothes were placed on the counter while the rag remained in your hand as you walked over to the tub, kneeling down next to it.

“Mind if I wash you?” You hummed. Daryl’s eyes flickered up to you for a moment, his face lightly flushed as he felt a little insecure about his body.

“Sure… go for it,” he grumbled hesitantly, his eyes looking away. You smiled reassuringly, leaning forward to kiss his forehead. You lifted the rag and began slowly by scrubbing his chest, followed by his arms. Daryl flinched slightly at the touch, his muscles rippled and tightened as you grazed over his flesh. He forced himself to stay still, but even that was a lot to bear sometimes. With each stroke of the rag, his breath hitched.

“Relax,” you coaxed quietly into his ear. “Lean forward, lemme get your back.”

Daryl frowned slightly but obeyed your instruction, leaning forward in the tub to expose his back to you. He bit his lip nervously, though you’ve seen them before, he was still self-conscious about the scars on his body.

He grimaced whenever you would brush over the scarred skin, making the scars feel more pronounced. He hated the reminder of his past, always trying to run from it. But he loved you, and he knew that letting you see him like this was a way of accepting what happened and moving forward with his life. He wasn't used to this physical intimacy, but he felt okay being vulnerable with you.

You made sure to be gentle, and your soft actions didn't go unnoticed by him. Daryl let himself relax and reminded himself you were safe, letting go of the tension in his body as you washed away the dirt left on him. You kissed his shoulder sweetly, letting your free hand come up to run through his tangled hair.

“Okay, lean back.” You whispered softly, a gentle hand pushing him back. He complied once again, sighing softly as he felt your fingers combing through his thick hair trying to loosen the knots.

The two of you stayed silent throughout the exchange, the only noise was the water occasionally splashing or dripping. Your touch was comforting despite his initial discomfort, he began to sink into the water while his muscles relaxed. You were the first to break the comfortable silence.

“I need to drain the water, I’ll put some more since I still need to wash your hair. Unless you wanna get out now?” You hummed quietly, making sure not to startle him by the sudden noise. He shifted slightly and used his arm to prop himself up so he could sit.

“’s up to ya,” he mumbled. “I wouldn’ mind stayin’ in ‘ere longer, but I dun’ want ya ta have ta wait on me.” He rubbed his bottom lip anxiously, nibbling on the inside of it.

“I don't mind,” you smiled while shaking your head. You reached into the tub to drain the dirty water before grabbing the shower head and beckoning him closer, “let me wash your hair first.”

He looked at you for a long moment, nodding cautiously as he scooted over to you, bowing his head. You turned on the shower head, rinsing his hair so it was damp before taking some shampoo and lathering it into his hair. You soothingly scratched your nails against his scalp. His eyes shut tight, letting himself relax as you scrubbed his hair clean. The soothing sensation felt nice, although he couldn't deny how it made him feel…

You pulled your hands out of his hair to rinse out the shampoo. Daryl sat stoically, trying to rid himself of certain thoughts, his breathing deepened however as you washed his hair. The warm water and your touch sent a wave of chills down his spine. You soon turned off the water and fixed his wet hair so it was out his face, filling the tub with warm water again.

His mind started wandering again, his eyes darting around as you fixed his hair. It felt weird to have someone do something like this for him, but he didn't mind it. He trusted you, he loved you, and you helped him feel comfortable and safe in his own skin. He let his thoughts melt away into mush as he enjoyed the warmth of the water and the soft touches your fingers were giving to his hair.

“Gimme a kiss?” You smiled softly, leaning forward. He froze for a moment, intimidated by the sudden request, his face flushing. He thought for a moment if he wanted to, of course he did, but he wasn't big on physicality.

He grumbled nervously, looking away from your expectant eyes. Your smile faltered slightly, and he noticed. You pulled back and got up.

“Never mind, just holler when you're done.” You walked over to the door, “I’ll be in the kitchen.”

He awkwardly watched you walk away, clenching his fists. He felt guilty, he shouldn't but he still felt bad for rejecting you. The truth was, he really did want to kiss you.

“Wait!” He called out, watching you poke your head back in.

“Hm?”

Daryl was hesitant in the moment, not wanting to embarrass himself further. Still, he felt the need to explain himself. “’s not tha’ I dun’ wan’ ta kiss ya,” he said softly and let his shoulders sink into the water. “’s jus’ tha’…”

You cut him off, kneeling by the tub again while caressing the back of his head. “Don’t worry about it, you don't have to kiss me if you don't want to.” You smiled sweetly up at him.

He exhaled softly at your response, licking his lips. He knew you were trying to make him feel better, but he still heard the genuine reassurance.

“But I do,” he whispered. “Can we uh… can we maybe try somethin’?” You hummed in response and knelt up to his level.

His breathing deepened at the sight of you, years of being married to you and he still felt weak in the knees every time he saw you. He felt a nervous excitement in his stomach, much like the feeling he had asking you to marry him. Your eyes flickered closed as he started to lean in, his closing too. When his hands came up, his fingers found your neck and traced your jawline softly. Your body felt familiar and warm, inviting in every way. You leaned closer, and he was worried you could hear his heart beating a million miles a minute. His hands cupped your face, his thumbs brushing your cheeks. Your breath against his lips made him tremble.

Your lips met softly, and you sighed into the kiss. It’s been three weeks since you two had kissed, and you needed this. You needed the reassurance he still loved you like you loved him.

And of course he did, he never stopped loving you since the day you met. His lips felt soft on yours, warm breaths filling you both with tenderness. But most of all, it felt so natural.

His eyes kept closed, not wanting to disrupt the moment. He wanted to get lost in the moment, to forget everything in the world and focus on the way you made him feel.

Eventually, you pulled back, smoothening your hand over his hair as you stood up. “I’ll be in the kitchen, want me to help you get out and change, or do you think you can manage?”

“I wan’ yer help,” he said shyly, slowly looking up at you. “If ya dun’ mind doin’ tha’.”

“Of course, you wanna get out now or soak for a little bit longer?” You smiled at him while combing through his hair. He chuckled and nodded, he wanted to finish this up quickly.

“I wanna get out, then we can get ta cuddlin’ or somethin’.” He smirked, chuckling when you slapped his shoulder lightly. You went to drain the water before moving towards the counter to grab his towel. He followed after you, groaning softly as he stood up and walked over to you. His body shivered slightly as he held his arms up, letting you towel him off. You kept him warm and comfortable, his eyes trailing over the way your lashes curled, his muscles relaxing again as you finished.

You smiled up at him and pecked his lips briefly before handing him his boxers, seeing his eyes flicker with desire at the slight touch on his lips. He took his underwear and slipped them on, feeling butterflies swarm in his belly. You handed him some sweatpants, followed by his shirt. He pulled on his clothes, sighing on relief as he was fully covered again.

“There we go,” you murmured. “We can get to cuddling in a bit, you hungry?” You grinned knowing very well he was quite hungry after his trip. Your suspicions were correct when his stomach growled on cue, his head nodding curtly.

“Tha’d be nice…” he glanced down at you. “Then we can cuddle after?” You nodded and led him out of the bathroom, into the kitchen where you had set up a plate of bread and tomato soup. His eyes widened when he saw his plate of food, the freshly baked bread making a delightful assault on his senses.

“Smells amazin’,” he chuckled and sat down at the table, “ya made this?” He asked, dipping his bread in the soup and savouring each bite.

“Mhm,” you smiled warmly as you took your own plate and sat in front of him. You both sat in warm silence, enjoying each other’s company as you both continued to eat. He felt your warmth and love just from the way you cooked this meal for him.

“Thank you fer this,” he mumbled, finishing up his food. You hummed in response, taking both your plates over to the sink.

“It’s not much,” you shrugged as you washed the dishes. As you washed your dishes, Daryl’s mind began to wander. You cooked dinner, gave him a bath, helped him change, been so attentive and caring, but you didn't seem to want anything in return. He wanted to repay you for your kindness, for making him feel comfortable and safe in your hands. He wasn't sure what to do, but he knew he wanted to make you feel appreciated.

“We can cuddle now,” you turned to him, wiping your hands. He nodded lightly, his eyes roaming over your figure as he walked over to you. He felt pleasant with a sense of fullness, his arms wrapping around your waist tightly as you both walked towards your bedroom. You let him sit on the bed first, kissing his forehead. “Hang on, just gotta change into my slip.” He nodded, sitting at the foot of the bed while waiting for you to come back.

You soon emerged from the closet, wearing a deep red slip dress. His eyes locked on you and they widened at the sight, swallowing as you got closer to him.

“Ya look beautiful,” he breathed as you stood in front of him, his head tilted back to look up at you, placing his hands on your hips. You sighed softly when he pulled you onto his lap, his fingers tracing up and down your thighs, your body fitting perfectly with his.

“I missed you,” you whispered, a slight pout on your face as you let your fingertips rest on his cheeks.

“I missed ya too,” he whispered back, the feeling of being empty and lonely without you slowly ebbing away. He leaned in, kissing you gently. The intimacy finding its way into him again, the comforting feeling of your body on his was warm and welcoming.

You kissed him back, your hands moving down to rest on his shoulders. His hands moved from your hips, up to your waist, rubbing circles into your sides with his thumbs. He wanted to make up for lost time.

The atmosphere suddenly felt hotter, your kisses getting more desperate and intense while his hands moved back down to your hips. He pulled you closer onto him, pulling your body flush against his. You groaned into his mouth as you started rocking your hips against his, hearing him groan as well. The arousal between the two of you started to rise, the intensity of your grinding made your slip ride up. Daryl groaned at the sight of your full, plush thighs, his erection pressing against you. You were so delicate, but so eager.

Each movement you made, sent waves of pleasure up his body. His hands gripped tight onto your thighs, grunting against your neck as you pulled him close. The more you ground against him, the more your slip rode up and revealed your panties.

His breath hitched as you continued to roll your hips, he leaned back on his elbows and looked up at you. The way your lips were parted, the sight of your flimsy underwear eliciting a moan from him. His dick grew harder as his entire body trembled with arousal, placing one hand on your hip.

“Fuck… yer so sexy,” he bit her lip, pushing your slip up with one large hand. He sat up to fully remove your slip, tossing it onto the floor and immediately ravishing your breasts. You yelped, a hand moving to the back of his head as his mouth sucked on the flesh on your chest.

A soft breathy moan left your lips as his mouth wrapped around one of your nipples, biting down gently. One of his hands moved to squeeze your ass, lifting you up slightly before directly placing you atop his erection. You whined at the feeling, squirming on him. He growled against your breast, squeezing the other as he lifted his head to look at you.

“Go on baby, do yer thing.” He whispered breathlessly, watching you grind down on him. Your panties shifted whenever you moved, letting him get a glimpse of your folds. He kept his eyes on your mound, reaching forward to rub circles over your clothed clit. You let out a mewl, biting your lip.

Evidence of your arousal quickly seeped through the thin fabric shielding yourself, smearing over his sweatpants the harder you grounded. Daryl let out a deep groan of approval, taking his thumb away from your clit and licking the wetness off of it. You almost felt yourself squirt right there but you held off, pushing him down onto his back.

He grunted at the gesture, grabbing your hips but grinning as you pushed his hands away. He just sighed and lay back, looking down as you got off of him to pull his pants and boxers off. He groaned at the feeling of his cock springing out, slapping against his stomach. He tried to sit up again but you wouldn't let him, instead pulling off your panties and sitting on his lower stomach. He smirked up at you, his gaze wandering up and down your body.

“Let me sit up, I wanna touch ya properly.” He chuckled, gaining a nod of approval. He quickly sat up, his hands on your ass as he shuffled you both onto the bed. He moved the pillows to the side and sat against the headboard, grinning cheekily at you. You giggled back at him, feeling his cock twitch against your ass. “Gonna take care of me?”

“You bet your ass I’m gonna,” you sneered, reaching behind you to run your fingers along his length. He hissed through his teeth, narrowing his eyes as he looked right at you. His grip tightened on your ass, a low growl in his throat as he waited for you to take this further.

You took the hint, lifting yourself up and grabbing onto his length firmly. Daryl’s breath hitched as he reached out to spread your folds with his thumb, licking his lips at how wet you were. His thumb drifted towards your clit again, drawing out a whine from you. He chuckled at your desperation, thinking he had the upper hand, but you quickly proved him otherwise.

Instead of sinking down on him like he thought you were going to, you ran his tip along your slit, circling your clit. You caught the way his eyes rolled back and his fingers twitched, a soft whimper escaping his lips. You smirked a little, letting his tip invade through your entrance, quickly pulling it out. He growled at your teasing, grabbing your hips and trying to push you down onto his cock.

“Nuh uh Dixon, patience.” You coaxed, caressing his hair. He grumbled, letting go of your hips and letting his hands fall by his side. You continued with the slight teasing, letting the head of his cock in and out, just the tip nothing more. He threw his head back, closing his eyes as his body trembled with the need to just flip you over and take you the way he needed. But he relented and let you do your thing.

You watched as his chest heaved with every heavy breath he took, leaning down to kiss his forehead. He closed his mouth at the gesture, sighing softly as the same butterflies swarmed in his belly again. The feeling of your love was too much for him, the tenderness of it all putting him at ease. At this moment you decided it would be a good time to slam down onto him, evoking a loud moan from both of you. His brows furrowed as he felt your walls flutter around his length, his hands squeezing your hips as to stabilize himself. He almost came right there, the both of you had been deprived of intimacy for three weeks. So you both knew this wouldn't last long.

“Jesus… fuckin’ christ woman,” he groaned. “Ya made me hit my head on the headboard.” You stifled a laugh, earning a glare from him. His hands played around the small of your back, leaning in to kiss you.

You met his lips with equal need, parting your lips to let his tongue slither in. The taste of bread and tomato soup lingering on his tongue. As you two made out, you tested the waters by inching him out slowly and inching him back in. He pulled away from the kiss, his eyes still closed by his face twitched before landing in the crook of your neck. You smiled and wrapped your arms around his head, his arms wrapping around your back as you moved slowly. His breath was hot and heavy and you could hear the occasional whimper and whine from him whenever you’d swivel your hips. You let yourself go and let out your own moans, his hands dancing along your back as you rolled your hips.

Your clit rubbed on the tuff of hair above his cock, moaning wildly at the sensation. His lips kept busy as he sucked the skin on your neck, biting and leaving marks on the blank canvas. Your nails dug into his shoulders, feeling him tense at the feeling but not protesting.

“Ah… Dar,” you breathed. The nickname slipped off the tip of your tongue so naturally, you felt his cock twitch against your walls. His hands rested on your back, leaning back to then dive in between your breasts. He raised his hands to squish the two mounds of flesh together, kissing each nipple softly. You let out a breathless giggle, curling your fingers into his hair. He peered up at you through his eyebrows, licking up the curve of your breast and swirling around the nipple, his thumb doing the same to the other.

You sighed, throwing your head back and closing your eyes and you started to lift yourself up and down on his length. Feeling the way you contracted around his cock, hearing the hiss from his mouth. He let your breasts go, his hands drifting down to your ass once again. He gently guided you up and down his cock, biting his lip to muffled his moans.

Daryl’s hand came to rub your clit again, this time harder than before. Your hips jerked forward, whining at the sensitive feeling. “C’mon, ‘m gonna cum… wan’ ya ta cum wit’ me.” He groaned into your hair.

You nodded, your eyes still closed as you rode him faster. The way you tightened around him allowed you to feel every inch and every vein on his cock, the head brushing against your sweet spot with every rock of your hips. Your mouth fell open to let out whatever noises you could make in the moment, one of your hands on the back of his neck while the other remained tangled in his hair.

You rode him hard, the bed rocking with every movement and the headboard hit the wall a few times. Yet the sound of your moans reverberated through the room, your noises going straight to Daryl’s cock as he bucked his hips up into you. The way he did it allowed him to hit your sweet spot perfectly, and also threw you off the edge.

Stars were all you could see as your movements halted, your mouth open in a silent cry of pleasure as you came. But he didn't yet.

“Fuck… ya came without me?” He growled, biting your shoulder before pushing you down onto your back and ramming himself in and out of your sensitive cunt. This time the cry that sounded from your mouth was louder than ever, your head thrown back while your hands dropped to your sides and gripped onto the sheets. Your walls clamped down on his length, the sensitivity too much for you as you felt a second orgasm rapidly building up. But the heat was too much.

Daryl’s hands squeezed your waist, letting out a shout as he came inside you, still thrusting himself in and out of you to bring out your second orgasm. Your eyes rolled back and your moan came out as a deep groan, this time fluids rushed out of your wet heat and spilling onto his thighs and the sheets, soiling them completely. He gasped, panting heavily as the sight. He couldn't resist and you felt a finger or two slip into you, the wet sounds totally erotic. He fingered you through the intense orgasm, groaning at how wet and slick you were.

You let yourself sink into the bed, closing your eyes, and his fingers eventually slipped out of you. His eyes stayed on your figure, the hickeys on your neck and chest, your pussy and thighs glistening with your wet arousal. You felt him kiss your lips softly, kissing your cheekbone before slowly leaving you on the bed.

You sighed and just lay there, naked and sprawled over the bed like some porno. But when you heard the sound of water rushing from the bathroom, you smiled and felt even warmer than you already did.

“Time fer yer bath,” Daryl’s voice made you open your eyes, craning your head to see him walk over to you. He smiled down at you before picking you up bridal style and carrying you towards the bathroom. You glanced up at him sleepily, pushing yourself up to kiss his jaw, his stubble prickly against your lips. He squeezed you tightly in response, kicking the bathroom door open and placing you in the warm bath. “I’ll be righ’ there ta join ya, jus’ gotta change the sheets.”

You nodded in response, leaning against the rim of the tub and closing your eyes. His hand came up to rub your head gently before scurrying out of the bathroom. You breathed softly, your stomach in pleasant knots at how much you adored your husband. Letting yourself soak in the warm water as your body felt lighter.

You almost flinched when you felt a body slip in next to you, Daryl was way too quiet sometimes. He gently maneuvered you so you sat on his lap, your back on his chest. He wrapped his arms around your midsection, turning his head to kiss your neck softly. You smiled contently, snuggling into him as you both melted into the warm water.

“I love you,” you murmured hoarsely.

“I love ya too,” he responded just as gruff, squeezing you gently as he placed another kiss on your neck. You both sat in silent, just soaking in each other's love and warmth, his fingers rubbing your back to rid of the soreness he may have put on you.

“I’m hungry,” you mumbled and felt his chest rumble against your back as he laughed.

“I’ll heat ya up some of tha’ bread and tomato soup. How’s tha’ sound?” His whisper made you shiver delightedly.

“Sounds perfect.” You whispered back, and leaned against his shoulder.

[sserpente]

A/N: This is short and silly and I enjoyed every second of writing it.

Words: 685 Warnings: none

You sighed as you let your head fall back to admire the stars. Thousands of piercing little lights dotting the night sky. It was rather beautiful, and for the first time ever since you had gotten into this mess (and a tadpole had gotten into you), you felt… content.

Perhaps it was because despite all this—you let your gaze wander over the campsite—fate decided to give something back. Someone. Your eyes found Astarion, brooding over one of the books you had recently picked up. Gods, you longed to take a bite right out of him the way he stood there in those tight and dark trousers and his white cotton shirt. It was quite incredible this handsome man… vampire spawn… liked you back. Not only that but you had mutated into his… lifeline, so to speak. Absentmindedly, you brought your hand to your neck, fingertips ghosting over the two puncture wounds his fangs had left behind last night. It had become a pleasurable and enjoyable ritual for you both now.

You’d have dinner with the others and at night, once everyone else was asleep, Astarion would get his fill and have supper for himself.

Another sigh. Dinner had been quite amazing and filling today. Gale had volunteered to cook after you found a crate full of abandoned supplies. Potato chips, carrot soup, garlic bread, and even lasagne… a chef would have slapped his palm against his forehead at the combination of all of these things for one evening but alas… you hadn’t eaten this much in over a week.

You were practically drunk on a full belly and that was before having a glass of wine already. Speaking of which… grabbing your empty glass, you got up from your bedroll, sauntering over to Astarion’s tent.

His head lifted as soon as he sensed you—and you actually liked to think that he could smell you, your blood, before he could hear or see you. A slight smile played on his lips when your eyes locked and he shut the book in his hands, putting it aside.

“Have a glass with me?” you offered, tilting your head as you waved the chalice in the air.

“Oh? Are we celebrating something, darling?”

“No… I’m just in a really good mood today.”

Astarion smirked in response and reached for the bottle of elven wine on the small table next to his tent.

“Well, given the current state of things, I’ll drink to that,” he purred, filling both your glasses. You clinked them, each taking a big sip before the vampire spawn took yours from you and set them both aside along with the bottle.

“Now would you say… you’re also in the mood for a bit of fun tonight?”

You grinned when he pulled you close, his face only inches from yours. “I thought you’d never ask.”

You closed your eyes, allowing him to lean forward and capture your lips in a hungry kiss.

“Ow! Gods, damn it!”

All of a sudden, as if stung by an adder, Astarion released you, half-blowing raspberries and cursing as he coughed as if you had poisoned him.

“What… are you alright? What happened? Oh… oh gods!” Realisation hit you only a second after.

“Oh no… Gale made garlic bread tonight! I completely forgot you can’t… oh, Astarion, I am so sorry. Let me have a look, is it bad?”

“I’m fine! It’s not going to kill me, it just… burns. Gods!” A few more curses followed as he brought his fingertips to his lips, assessing the damage done.

“I’ll go rinse my mouth, alright? I’ll be right back.”

The sound of acknowledgment he made was hardly an answer. It was enough for you to turn back around though, your cheeks hurting from how hard you were holding back a grin.

“It could be worse… I mean… I could have put my lips elsewhere.”

“Very funny, darling.” Still, there was a hint of amusement swinging in his voice and you certainly couldn’t help the little chuckle forcing its way out of your throat. He had to admit… it was hilarious.

A/N: I'm on my second playthrough as Durge right now and I realised one thing about myself: As much as I love villains and misunderstood bad guys, I'm really bad at being evil. 😂 I feel soo bad every time I make a mean decision, hahaha!

[collecting-stories]

Strawberry Gazpacho - Carmen Berzatto

A/N: Some people asked for a part 2 of Blueberry BBQ, so I decided to stay on the fruit trend!

Summary: Reader and Carmy continue to bond over food.

The Bear Masterlist

✰ ✰ ✰ ✰

"What is this?" You asked, staring down at the bowl Carmy had placed on top of your papers. You were in the back office, trying to work on the week's payroll when he'd come in, told you that you needed a lunch break, and placed a plate down in front of you. 

"Try it," he urged, wringing his hands in his apron and looking like an eager little kid. 

"Carm-"

"Try it," he repeated and you obliged. Regardless of what it was you knew you would like it. Carmy made it, which immediately meant it couldn't be bad, but also, Carmy made it. For you, more specifically. You took the proffered spoon and dipped it into the bowl, surprised when you pressed it to your lips and found that it was, in fact, cold.

"Gazpacho?" You asked, after a second bite.

You had told him last night, while watching TV and letting him finish the tupperware of tofu feta that's you'd made the day before, that you hated gazpacho. You loved soup and tomato was your favorite; a nice, roasted red-pepper tomato, heavy on the garlic, that you'd perfected over the years. But no gazpacho. You couldn't get used to the fact that it was cold. 

"You like it?" He asked in a way that suggested he might genuinely be worried that you would tell him it was horrible.

"I mean, it's the best gazpacho I've ever had," you took another bite as proof, "it's spicy."

"But?"

You weren't sure if he was fishing for a compliment or trying to convert you onto a food you held in disdain but you assumed that if he wanted someone to tell him that he was a skilled chef he would've gone to Syd or Marcus with his cold soup.

"It's cold soup Carmy, I just can't fuck with cold soup." You replied, "it's good though."

He reached for the spoon in your hand and dipped it into the bowl, trying some of the gazpacho that he had made. He nodded his head, as if to confirm that it was good, as if he didn't already know it would be.

"Should I like, fall over at your feet and tell you that you've converted me to gazpacho and it's the only thing I'll ever order for the rest of my life?" You teased, leaning an elbow on the desk. It felt completely natural to be this relaxed with him and yet, just weeks earlier, you'd been fretting over the idea of having him come over for Sunday dinner. 

He handed the spoon back and you took another experimental taste.

"I mean, you're still eating it," he pointed out, grinning. 

In no world would Carmy say that he was 'good with people'. If he wasn't saying the wrong thing then he was saying nothing at all (and that was also wrong). He wanted to spend more time with you, the most time he could afford outside of The Beef but the only way he really knew how to spend time with anyone was cooking. So he kept cooking for you, things you liked, things you hated but liked when he made them. He kept trying to find the perfect thing to say and the perfect recipe to go along with it, as if that would remedy his inability to tell you that he wanted more from whatever this situation currently was. You weren't dating but he wanted to be dating but he wasn't exactly the dating type (as far as having an actual open schedule went). 

"Touche," you replied, taking another bite. "I can't decide if I'll regret telling you this or not but my mom has a recipe for strawberry gazpacho that apparently my grandma used to make every summer."

"Strawberry?"

"I can already see the gears turning in your head Carmy," you laughed. 

He looked down at you, piercing blue eyes taking your measure, "can you get me the recipe?"

"Are you gonna make me eat it?" You practically pouted. 

He nodded, "yes."

You groaned and leaned back in the office chair, "god, the things I do for you Carmy." You sighed. "I'll text my mom for the recipe...I can pick stuff up on my way home, if you want. Or if you're all gazpacho'ed out-"

"No, tonight works." He agreed.

Before you could say anything else Marcus was calling Carmy back to the kitchen. He wiped his hands on his apron once more and push himself off the desk. Before he could pick up the bowl you put your hand over his, "I might try another bite." 

There were other things that Carmy could probably be doing with his evening. Catching up on sleep, working on the recipes that he and Syd had been spitballing for the updated menu, mending whatever semblance of a relationship he still had with Sugar. Instead he was looking forward to going to your apartment (which was leagues nicer than his shitty place) and cooking. He'd lived so long on white bread and peanut butter and chips and soft drinks and anything quick that he'd forgotten what it was like to cook just because he enjoyed cooking. Hell, he'd forgotten that he enjoyed it. The only thing, lately, that really felt like it brought that enjoyment back was standing in your kitchen.

"Rigoletto has taken up residence on the island and he refuses to move so...we're down some counter space," you said as soon as you opened the door to Carmy, moving aside to let him into your apartment. 

He stopped at the island, leaning over to pet Rigoletto, who half-heartedly rolled onto his side to give Carmy better access to his stomach. "Hey chef," he teased. He turned to look at you, still stroking the cat as he did, "strawberry gazpacho?" 

"I would just like to disclaimer that I don't think strawberries are going to improve my deep-seated hatred of gazpacho but-"

"I mean, you did eat most of the one I made earlier," Carmy pointed out as your mouth fell open in surprise. 

"Angel! What a snitch!" You laughed, "I can't believe he told you."

"Hey, it's my kitchen, I've gotta know what's going on." He followed you around the other side of the island, grabbing the notebook you had sitting on the counter and scanning over the recipe. You'd called your mom on the way home and asked for a copy of the recipe, which she'd gladly texted ("does this have something to do with that cute chef where you work?"). You'd picked up whatever ingredients you didn't already have at your house and set everything out for Carmy before he'd even gotten there. You felt a little silly, being so excited just to have him come over and cook with you (for you) when there was no real definition to what your relationship was. 

"Did you cook growing up? Like with your mom and stuff?" You asked, stealing a strawberry out of the plastic container. 

"No," Carmy shook his head, then amended his answer, "not really. My ma always told us to help but if we did she yelled at us for doing something the wrong way...it was better to just stay outta her way when she was in the kitchen. You?"

"Oh yeah, my mom's not like...the best chef in the world or anything but she loved trying new stuff. Anything we wanted we could ask for and she'd try to make it. And then as we got older we would have like, nights where one of us got to cook." You replied, "I like it but...I don't think I'm good at it."

"You are...I mean....not like, you've got potential." Carmy explained, blue eyes glancing up to meet you across the island and you smiled. 

"Thank you chef."

You left Carmy to the strawberry gazpacho and the chicken he'd brought over to make some dish you'd never heard of before while you got Rigoletto's dinner out. The cat had finally moved off the island and you sprayed it down with cleaner to at least give yourself a better chance of not picking white cat hair off your dinner plate. 

Carmy fit right into your kitchen, probably the whole apartment for that matter. It was something both of you had thought, more than once, but neither of you said anything about. He felt like he was waiting for something bad to come from all the good you had been supplying in his life recently. Bad news always felt like it was lurking around the corner for him, especially these days, and he didn't want to put everything in one basket. But being in your kitchen, in your space, felt good. It felt like he was supposed to be there. 

"Did you know," you were saying as you came back into the kitchen, leaning near him to look at the chicken he was searing on the stovetop, "that I didn't know what mortadella was before I started working at the Beef?" 

Carmy turned his head to watch you fish a piece of garlic out of the skillet and eat it whole, "Did you just?"

"It was cooked."

"It was a whole clove of garlic."

"I love garlic," you shrugged, dropping the fork in the sink, "but seriously, I had to google it cause I didn't know what Richie was talking about when he was trying to explain it."

"It's very Italian." Carmy replied. 

"You're very Italian." You grinned and he rolled his eyes.

"I am, yeah." And then, "I still can't believe you ate that."

"You act like you've never eaten garlic before."

"Not just shoved a whole clove in my mouth." He replied. 

"It tasted good." You shrugged, "I always use too much garlic. Like if a recipe says three cloves I use six."

"Yeah that's why I said you had potential." 

"Well now I just feel like that's your 'I don't wanna hurt your feelings' way of saying I'm actually shit at cooking." You replied. 

"Nah, if you were shit I'd tell you."

"Yeah but then who'd balance the books for you?" You teased, searching in the cabinet under the island for wine, "red or white?"

"Uh...white for this." Carmy replied.

You pushed the bottle of red you were holding back into the cabinet and went to the fridge, pulling out the Chardonnay you'd bought last week. You grabbed two glasses from the cabinet, handing him one once it was poured. 

"Is this the 'only white you'll drink' wine?" He asked, taking a sip. 

The last time he had come over to cook with you (for you) there had been a long discussion about different wines in which you'd explained that there was only one type of white that you liked. More accurately, one brand that made a chardonnay you didn't completely hate. 

"Yeah...they finally restocked!" You exclaimed, leaning against the counter, "the woman at the Wine and Spirits definitely thinks I'm an alcoholic though...I bought like, four bottles." 

Carmy shook his head, reaching a hand out for the bottle and splashing a little into the pan when you handed it to him. Kitchens were crowded and Carmy was more than used to working in an environment where people were constantly at each other's side or back or space but something about having you leaning there against the counter beside him was both extremely nerve-wracking and extremely comforting. 

He didn't say anything about it though, at least not until after you'd eaten dinner and were sitting on the couch avoiding the dishes. Then he blurted it out while you watched reruns of Murder, She Wrote with Rigoletto. "I always thought I would do stuff like this when I was younger."

"Watch 80's tv shows on a Tuesday night?" You asked.

"No," he laughed, "Just like...I don't know....you know, make dinner with someone. Or, I guess, not feel like my entire life was in a restaurant all the time."

"Well I'll always be happy to make dinner with you...or at least supply the wine while you make dinner." You replied, grinning at him.

"Yeah," he nodded his head slowly, as if convincing himself that what you were saying was true. 

"Yeah," you agreed.

[aestheticaltcow]

i saw you’re open to requests right now, and i love how you write carmy!! i was wondering if you could do anything about him teaching r how to cook? helping them with a recipe? i love ur work!!🫶

Stop you're gonna make me blush 😭

But, yes, I take requests. I took some creative liberties with this one, but I like how it turned out.

Soft jazz filled Carmy’s cozy apartment as the two of you stood in the kitchen. Carmy was next to you, trying to make sense of your Dad’s sloppy cursive writing. “I - this man… what the fuck does he mean by light brown chicken?” he mumbled, getting more confused by the second. “And to think the three Michelin star chef can’t figure out what this is BUT had the gull to taunt his non-three Michelin star chef partner for being confused.” Carmy rolled his eyes at your rebuttal and playfully nudged you, “Shut up baby.”  you laughed and handed him the card. “They never taught us about ‘Daddy soup’ in culinary school.” you shrugged and took another sip of broth, gagging at the taste. “I don’t know how I fucked up that soup so bad.” Carmy laughed. “Describe it to me- I will figure it out.”

With the recent passing of your father, you’d found yourself desperate to find a way to connect to him, hence the need for ‘Daddy soup’ growing up; whenever it was cold out or whenever you or your siblings were upset, he’d make ‘Daddy soup’ it was the cure to everything. You attempted to explain it to Carmy, “It was chicken? Maybe turkey? There was carrot… celery? I don’t know- it just tasted like love.”

Carmy spent weeks cross-referencing cookbooks and online recipes. He made stock after stock after stock. He called both of your sisters to get a new perspective on what he should do. After weeks of eating only soup for lunch and dinner, Carmy thought he’d figured it out. “Hey, you doin’ anythin’ tonight?” Carmy asked when you answered the phone, “What you cookin’ me?” “Don’t make me say it…” Carmy awkwardly chuckled, “I’ll come over at 7.” 

“Okay, can you chop these for me while I shred this duck,” Carmy explained, handing you one of his knives. “Be careful, Syd, and I sharpened our knives last night.” you shot him a confused look, “The fattiness of the duck was what my first and fourth attempts were missing- it’ll be good, I promise.” You shot Carmy a quizzical look but started chopping onions and carrots as he’d instructed. He helped you cook the garlic, making sure it didn’t burn this time around. 

“Okay. Try it.” Carmy said, biting the inside of his cheek. As you brought a spoon up to your lips, he swallowed nervously. He stared at you intensely as you tasted the soup. You licked your lips and took another spoonful from the pot. You stood there momentarily and thought, “Well, it’s not Daddy soup but Carmy soup.” Carmy frowned at your criteria, “I thought I had it-” “Carmy, I don’t think anyone can recreate my Dad’s soup, but this is delicious and tastes like love. Thank you.”