In my totally unbiased opinion, one of the best things about learning Chinese has been learning about Chinese food culture. Chinese food uses a dizzying array of spices, but these are the most common that you'll see in recipes. Learning these words might even help you find your way around your local Asian grocery store!
The Basics:
鹽 (yán): salt
糖 (táng): sugar
- Not technically spices, but salt and sugar are essential seasonings in Chinese cooking. Sugar is often used to provide balance in savory dishes, especially in the food of certain regions such as Shanghai.
味精 (wèijīng): MSG
-MSG is also a common ingredient (but not really a spice), and not associated with the same racist health panic as in the US. Some chefs, however, see it as "cheating" and prefer to impart umami through traditional ingredients like dried mushrooms and high-quality stock.
粉 (fěn)/面 (miàn): powder
- These two words can be stuck to the end of the spices below to indicate that they are ground instead of whole.
Spice Mixes:
五香粉 (wǔxiāngfěn): five-spice powder
- A sweet-and-savory spice mix well known around the world, five-spice powder tends to include star anise, Sichuan peppercorn, cinnamon, fennel and cloves.
咖哩粉 (gālífěn): curry powder
- British colonization brought curry to Hong Kong, where it's popular with beef or fish balls.
燒烤料 (shāokǎoliào): barbecue spice mix
- This doesn't refer to char siu, but to the spicy grilled meat skewers that are popular across China. A typical version hailing from the north-west is based on cumin and chili powder.
Spices:
胡椒 (hújiāo): pepper
- Chinese makes use of both white pepper (白胡椒) and black pepper (黑胡椒), but white pepper is more common.
花椒 (huājiāo): Sichuan peppercorn
- This is the spice that gives Sichuan food its famous numbing quality, though it is used all across China as well. It comes in red or green varieties, and can be used fresh or dried.
辣椒 (làjiāo): chili pepper
- Spicy food is popular in Sichuan and the rest of China's southwest, where tons of chili varieties are used fresh and dry-- this alone could be material for an entire vocab list.
八角 (bājiǎo): star anise
- One of the most iconic spices in Chinese cuisine, its name literally means "eight horns". It's commonly tossed into stews and braises.
肉桂 (ròuguì)/桂皮 (guìpí): cinnamon
- The cinnamon commonly used in Chinese cuisine is in fact cassia, which is stronger-flavored but less aromatic.
丁香 (dīngxiāng): clove
- A key ingredient in five-spice powder and occasionally tossed into braises. Interestingly, many of the sweet spices that we associate with desserts in the US are not commonly used as such in Asia. A friend once told me that many Taiwanese people don't like cinnamon desserts because they find the taste medicinal.
茴香 (huíxiāng): anise seed
- This spice is featured in Lu Xun's story Kong Yiji, where Kong Yiji asks the young narrator if he can write the character 茴, which is used in the name of the tavern's peas with anise.
香葉 (xiāngyè): bay leaf
- Bay leaves are used in China in much the same way as in the US-- tossed into stews and braises to provide a little... well, nobody knows what a bay leaf tastes like but it must be doing something.
陳皮 (chénpí): aged tangerine peel
- American-Chinese classics like orange chicken are likely influenced by stir-fries made with this bitter and fragrant peel.
百荳蔻 (báidòukòu): white cardamom
- Chinese food doesn't use the green cardamom commonly used in Indian food, instead preferring to use white cardamom in braised dishes.
草果 (cǎoguǒ): black cardamom, tsao-ko
- Black cardamom is dried over a fire, giving it a distinctive smoky flavor. While not overly common in much of China, it is one of the most common seasonings used in Yunnan food.
孜然 (zīrán): cumin
- Cumin is also not a flavor commonly associated with China, but it's iconic of the food of China's northwest, such as Shaanxi and Xinjiang.
甘草 (gāncǎo): licorice root
沙姜 (shājiāng); sand ginger
當歸 (dāngguī): angelica root
- These three spices are all known for their uses in traditional Chinese medicine, but are also used in medicinal soups and larger spice mixes. There are, of course, way more TCM herbs and spices used in Chinese cooking, but these are the most common to see in recipes or dishes.
Hey also you know that post about getting better at cooking and handling meat and stuff?
Meat is really expensive and it goes bad pretty quickly.
If you're a new cook and you're trying to figure out how to pan-fry something so that it tastes good, might I recommend tofu?
I'm not saying "treat tofu like meat and try to replace all your favorite meat dishes with tofu" (though, I mean, if that sounds good - go for it), I'm saying "it's a lot easier to practice heating a pan and flipping objects in a pan for a meal and seasoning objects in a pan when the objects in the pan cost two dollars instead of ten dollars."
Tofu lasts a lot longer in the fridge than meat does, is easy to season, and you can easily learn how to pan-fry it into a tasty snack (or main course) and only requires a little extra prep. You can also pretend that the tofu is raw meat (the texture isn't dissimilar) and start practicing for things like how to take it out of a package or cut it on a sanitizable surface, etc.
My favorite way to cook tofu is to press extra firm tofu for at least half an hour (you can get a cheap tofu press for around ten dollars, or you can put it between two plates with some books on the top plate - this is that extra prep i was talking about - tofu cooks best if you press the excess water out), then slice a 14oz cake of it into 8 slices. I lay these flat and sprinkle cayenne pepper, mushroom powder, and smoked paprika on all of the slices, then I rub it in and flip the slices and season the other side the same way. I cook it in a frying pan with a thin layer of avocado or olive oil over medium heat, flipping every two minutes until the flat sides start to crisp up a little. Just before the last flip I add about a tablespoon of tamari sauce (you can use soy sauce, I've just got allergies) to the pan, sprinkling it over the tofu so that both sides get a little bit of sauce on them.
I have that with steamed vegetables and with jasmine rice (with two teaspoons of rice wine vinegar per 3 cups of dry rice and 4.5 cups of water). I also make a honey-siracha-mayo sauce that I dip the tofu in.
It's really good. And now I end up eating leftover rice and sauce with fried eggs for lunch at least two days a week and that's also really good.
This has become one of my go-to low spoon foods because it's so easy to make, it's filling, it tastes good to me, and it has become extremely easy for me to keep a stock of tofu in the fridge compared to the effort of keeping un-expired meat in the fridge.
I find that a 14oz pack of tofu feeds two adults for one meal, though I can stretch that to three meals if I'm the only one eating.
It makes a very cheap, filling, easy dinner that I can keep the ingredients around for without too much concern for food waste or anything going bad (the tofu that I get lasts about a month in the fridge and these days I just buy three packs every time I'm at aldi and cycle in new stock - it costs $1.50 per pack)
If you're interested in becoming a better cook, rather than worrying about actual high-risk products like raw chicken that can be seriously dangerous and also cost a fair amount, tofu has a pretty low barrier to entry while also being a good way to learn on a new ingredient that has some similar properties to raw meat.
Hi fellow adventurers!! A few weeks ago i caught wind of "Delicious in Dungeon". I'm not really an anime person, but I am a TTRPG, CRPG, and cooking person- . And holy shit. It is so good i convinced my partner to binge read the whole thing. I'm caught up on dungeon meshi, the anime, and just yesterday i also finished dungeon meshi, the manga.
Its rare to come across a serialized story that is so thematically cohesive and knows its characters so well. All of the bonus content like the artbooks and monster tidbits are just the icing on top.
So, inspired by Ryōko Kui's writing and illustration I'm going to attempt to create a recipe for every single Delicious in Dungeon recipe!-
Today that means Huge Scorpion and Walking Mushroom hotpot is on the menu!
(As always you can find the cooking instructions and full ingredient list under the break-)
MY NAMES CROSS NOW LETS COOK LIKE ANIMALS
SO, “what goes in to a Huge Scorpion and Walking Mushroom hotpot?” YOU MIGHT ASKThis is one of the pricier dishes until we get to the kelpies and dragons of the menu-
Rock lobster tail
Porcini mushrooms
Shiitake mushrooms
Snow fungus
Small potatos
Fensi (glass noodles)
Water
OPTIONAL: your choice of dipping sauces
There was a crossover/promotional event in Shibuya which featured various realworld dishes from the series. They had one for Huge Scorpion and Walking Mushroom, but they used prawns. while those cook better in a hotpot, they also didn't look enough like the scorpion for me, they also used udon noodles for the slime and a seaweed/kale(?) mixture for the algae. If you're looking for substitutes due to price or availability i would start with those ingredients.
AND, “what does a Huge Scorpion and Walking Mushroom hotpot taste like?” YOU MIGHT ASKI hope Senshi would forgive me for technically cooking the lobster outside the pot, once he tastes it.
Okay im always partial to veggies but wowowowowowowoowowowow the snow fungus and the mushrooms tasted soooooooooooo good in the lobster stock
A nice delicate layering of different flavors
Try to get a bite with the lobster meat and shiitake together, dip in butter then chili- trust me
Its up to you what texture you prefer if you want to put the noodles in at the end or put them in halfway through the meal. Either way dont go for eating those first as theyre very filling
I think this would pair well with a citrus drink, something light and clarifying
This would also pair well with being extremely high and hungry (if you feel safe cooking while inebriated lol) very calorically dense
For the trial run I did one lobster tail in the pot with everything else, and one lobster tail off to the side to be picked apart. The former is more in spirit with a hotpot, but it got rubbery as the meal went on and lost its nice taste. The latter may be a bit more work but all you have to do still is boil it and set it aside. I found it held up much better. It was also easier to get inside the shell.
. If you have hardshell maine lobster available, i think it would be superior to rock lobster (keep in mind crustaceans will get rubbery if cooked too long in the pot)
. Green onions and/or lotus root would make excellent additions
From getting the ingredients out to sitting down and eating, id say it took maybe 30 minutes max? It'd vary on how fast you can prep vegetables and get the various implements heated.
Hotpots are not something i do very often as i'm usually just feeding myself. I think thats why a hotpot makes perfect sense to start the series off. If you want to set the tone of "take care of yourself, eat food with others, and use what you have" (generally speaking) there is nothing more simplistic, flexible, and defeats-the-purpose-if-you-eat-it-alone than a hotpot. Gather around and let your friends bring ingredients to the pot if you want to fill your heart up extra full <3
I'm doing something different here because unlike previous recipes where i used a bunch of different sources and made my own recipe out of hodge-podging it, or just used another persons recipe entirely if they did it really well, i made this more whole-cloth based off of what i had available, what I could discover through research, and my existing knowledge. Instead of the recipe being 50/50 original, this one is more 20/80. So. I'll pass the final verdict off to you guys :D
What would you rate this recipe out of 10? (with 1 being food that makes one physically sick and 10 being food that gives one a lust for life again.) Did you love it, did you hate it? What're your thoughts on what I could do different, and what would you have done instead?
🐁 ORIGINAL RESIPPY TEXT BELOW 🐁
Ingredients:
2 Rock lobster tails
3 Porcini mushrooms
2 Shiitake mushrooms
Snow fungus (a good handful, should rehydrate in the hotpot)
2 Small waxy potatos
Fensi (glass noodles)
Water/lobster stock
Method:
Lightly rinse all of your vegetables beforehand and let them dry.
Vertically slice the porcini mushrooms. Cut off and dice the stems of the shiitake mushrooms. You can slice the tops if youd like.
Peel and cube the potatoes, roughly an inch each.
For the lobster tails; Boil a pot of salted water. Keep the shell on. Weigh the largest tail and add 1 minute of cooking time for every ounce of weight.
When done, strain the lobster from the water. Pour the water into your hotpot as the base. Serve the lobster on the side so people can pick the meat out to dip into the hotpot.
Bring the hotpot to a simmer. Add the potato cubes, snow fungus, mushrooms, and noodles.
OPTIONAL: this wasnt in the show, but its fun having sauces on the side :) i had oyster sauce, dry seasoned chili dip, melted butter, and soy sauce available
Rhysand x Rhysand's Sister's Best Friend/Virgin!Reader
Summary: Having a crush on your best friends older brother isn't ideal. Especially when he has one back.
Warnings: Flirting, sexual taunting and begging.
Word Count: 3,065
Belongs to the timeline and predates Clandestine Love
_________________________________________
“Where’s Ara?” you ask your dinner mate as Einar places a steaming dish before you. The savory scents of the herbs he used on the fresh meat fill your senses, and your mouth waters at its deliciousness. Vegetables swim in a thick cream sauce that looks all too delectable, and the mound of cut potatoes doused in flavor has your jaw tingling. You simply cannot wait to dig in, only able to keep yourself from diving straight into your dinner as the family cook replenishes your half drank glass of sparkling fae wine. “Thank you, Einar.”
The chef dips his head in response then spins on his heel, quickly leaving the room. A bite of guilt pinches your stomach as you watch the green-skinned, normally bright-eyed fae stalk back to the kitchen to prepare dessert. It’s not like Rhysand is that much like his father. While his personality and aura tend to lean to the more arrogant side, it’s usually attributed to the fact that he is a young, confident male, eager to bask in all of the indulgences son of the High Lord is offered.
Said male sita across from you, pinning you to your seat with searing violet eyes. His spine is rigid and his fingers are curled tightly around his utensils as he watches your gaze follow the chef scurrying from the room.
He wants to fire him, no matter how delicious his food is.
Rhysand doesn’t have a right to feel this way. He doesn’t like the rage that coils his stomach, that lights his bones on fire when your soft eyes meet those of any other male in the court. Ever since you’d worked up the courage to kiss him all those months ago, it had ignited something inside of him even he couldn’t seem to make sense of. He shouldn’t be feeling this conflicted over his little sister's best friend of all people, but even he couldn’t ignore your otherworldly beauty, the musical laughter he always ached to hear, feel those gorgeous eyes roaming down his body while you thought his attention was elsewhere.
The following months after that fateful night had been spent in the Illyrian camps, avoiding you. He’d tried occupying his mind with training or drinking with Azriel and Cassian until he couldn’t remember what it felt like to have your lips pressed against his own, your breasts pressed against his chest, and your scent burrowing so deeply into his soul he might never forget it.
You couldn’t be drowned by any female nor male he fell into bed with since. Rhys, as sick as it might be to admit it, had resorted to imagingin his partners were you when he couldn’t seem to get off. Horrible, he knows, but you’ve planted that seed and his feelings are an overgrown slew of vines, constricting his inner being.
And now you’re here, across from him. And he’s here, alone with you. And Ara is not here like she should be and his mother isn’t here to form a buffer and his father is away doing Mother knows what and Cassian and Azriel aren’t here to tell him how horrible this idea is, or how if he’d only fuck you it would get these feelings out of his system, at least, the former of the two would say.
Rhysand is in a dangerous situation right now.
He forces his body to relax, slumping back in his seat with the vanity only the prince of Night can convey. Masking his face into something a little more open—a little more nice—he stalls, cutting into the meat on his own plate. Blood spurts as he takes his knife to it, and Rhysand has to force himself from imagining it to be a certain chef's blood instead. “Mother whisked her into the city for dinner.”
“So it’s only you and I?” you blush, stabbing a potato with your fork. It has been so long since you’d last seen Rhysand, and it seems the few months he’s been away have made him even more handsome than you remember, even if his skin looks a little paler from the blistering winters in the mountains and the drink he hasn’t let up on since.
“It seems so,” Rhys answers, chewing.
“And no one else,” you murmur, almost breathless as your heart begins to race in your chest at the thought of what you and him could be getting into all alone, if he hadn’t decided to run from you.
Rhysand quirks a brow, looking down the table as if looking for someone else, and replies, “How did you come to that conclusion?”
Rolling your eyes, you mutter, “Asshole,” under your breath, and Rhys fails to bite back his smirk. Both of you fall silent as you eat, only the sounds of your hammering heart and utensils filling the void in the luxurious dining room. You’re not sure how the family doesn't feel lonely like this, eating at the table built for an army. You can’t even hear Einar shuffling about in the kitchen, no clanging of pans or low curses if he creates something his perfectionist self doesn’t deem a ‘creation of the Gods.’
You can’t help but to glance at Rhysand, drinking in the sight of him. His straight nose, the curve of his cupid’s bow as he places a spoonful of vegetables and cream sauce in his mouth. His thick lashes are dark, so dark it looks like he’s let Ara around him with some of her kohl again. They’re long as well, brushing the apples of his cheeks when he looks down at his plate, and you’re envious of them.
Too long you’ve gone without seeing him. The most dramatic male you’ve ever set your sights on, running from you after you’d finally worked up the courage after months of pining to kiss him. It was after Ara had fallen asleep and you found yourself on the balcony, gazing up at the stars, his company warm and welcoming.
It had been everything to you then, the confidence you felt, the rush of adrenaline as you caught him off guard, the feel of his lips against yours, soft still, even if they were wind-chapped from the long flight. He hadn’t reacted, you hadn’t given him the time to, yanking yourself back just as quickly as you leaned in and running off to Araphel’s room, your mind screaming at you that it had been a horrible idea.
But you couldn’t ignore the emotions spilled between the both of you, the times where his hand had brushed yours or his touch lingered too long when he’d muse your hair, stroking the shell of your ear. You couldn’t ignore the heated looks Rhys shot you every time you spoke to another male, nor the way he always found an excuse to interrupt you, guiding you away from them with a large hand on the small of your back.
And maybe it was your silly little heart for wanting him. For crushing on your best friend's older brother who exudes confidence and can have any female in the court he wants. Any female on the continent, even.
The silence is damning, though, and you wish you could be how you were the night you’d kissed him, sanguine and bright with the idea that this could be your true love's first kiss. Of course, the fleeting press of his lips was enough to solidify many things for you, but you’d been unsure about Rhysand’s feelings on the matter, and by the time you’d found the courage to talk to him about what had happened, he’d already fled back to the mountains.
You’d kissed plenty of males since then, dragging Ara for nights out at Rita’s because Rhysand and his friends always raved about it. A part of you thought that he might walk in and see you in another male's arms, tear you away like the warrior-prince he is, but sadly, it hadn’t happened.
And you have to say that you’re more than a little confused. He’d been blatantly glaring at Einar while the chef served your food. Had he heard about the kiss you shared with the young chef when Donan hadn’t allowed Araphel permission to go out one night and you spent it with the staff the High Lord kept around the house? It was all for a silly drinking game, but the green-skinned fae’s cheeks had been bright pink after the both of you stumbled back from the pantry, lips bruised and eyes shining bright with liquor. Maybe he had overheard some of the handmaiden's gossipping about it after all these weeks? Or maybe, the darkness always knows.
Now, the both of you are here, alone, staring at each other over the delectable meals prepared by the chef you’ve tasted once before. It hadn’t been anything like the peck you’d shared with Rhysand. In that millisecond of the brushing of your lips your world had shifted, body set alight with shooting stars and setting free the wild butterflies in your stomach.
He has that glint in his eyes, the same one he always gets when he’s watching you, the one that heats your very core. And as you chew the potatoes in your mouth, you muster that confidence into yourself once more.
You will it into the marrow of your bones, rolling your shoulders as you prepare yourself to get exactly what you want. If there is no one here to interrupt, then the stage is set.
“Whoops,” you feign, allowing a drip of cream sauce to slip off the end of your utensil on the way to your mouth. It lands on the bare skin between the plunging fabric of your dress, and you catch Rhysand tracking the movement as you reach for your napkin to dab at your skin. “Spilled a little.”
Rhysnad hums, “You should be more careful, darling. Wouldn’t want to ruin that pretty dress of yours, now would you?”
“No,” you agree, ever the dream of poised elegance. You pop a vegetable into your mouth, chewing for a moment, before continuing. “I wouldn’t want to ruin my dress at all. But, if it’s meant to be, I can always have another one made.”
In that moment, you know you’ve got him. The stars in his violet eyes wink out as darkness settles in, pinning you to your chair. His look sends a shiver up your spine and you know that he is no longer hungry for the food plated before him.
Rhysand flares his wings a little and bites back a curse. For too long he’s been living at the Illyrian camps. There’s no one here he has to compete with for your attention, no one he needs to show off his wingspan to, though, by the way that your half-lidded eyes trace across the membranous skin of them, perhaps he’ll flare them wide when you’re beneath him.
It’s a line that he hasn’t crossed with you yet, one that he promised himself that he wouldn’t. You’re his little sister’s best friend for Mother’s sake, not just another female simpering after him because of his familial ties. You’re…much more than that, and he shouldn’t be thinking about crawling across this fucking table and licking that cream off of your chest and burying his head between your breasts.
“Meant to be,” he echoes, and you hum, tilting your head back with the motion. The exposed skin of your neck calls to him, even more so when you swipe a finger, capturing the sauce and popping it into your mouth to suck on. Your cheeks hollow exaggeratedly, and his cock strains painfully in his pants. He growls your name, a tenor of darkness that curls through your body like the icey patches of snow on the way into the city.
“What was that Rhys?” you ask, batting your eyelashes now. The meal in front of you is long forgotten, your hunger for this male insatiable. The way Rhysand makes you feel, despite only sharing a whisper of a kiss, well, you think you could be mates someday. “Did you need something?”
“I need you to stop doing that before I come over there and make you stop myself.”
You moan a little, legs falling wide under the table. “I think I might like that, though.”
Rhysand’s nostrils flare as he drinks in the scent of your arousal, thick between your thighs.
“You’re supposed to be a Lady, darling. Who taught you to speak like that?” he purrs, tapping a perfectly manicured nail against the table. You know that he’s only doing it to try and dispel the tension leaking from his body. You can scent it in the air, the raw, heady smell of him that threatens to send you right to your knees.
“You,” you moan in response. You can feel him creeping into your mind, watching. Waiting.
“And you always listen to your superiors, don’t you, darling?”
“Yes,” you hiss, squirming in your seat as those black claws of his rake gently across your mind. Your fingers curl around the arms of your chair, your spine arching at the soft caress. “Rhys, please…I need you to touch me.”
It’s a simple request, one he’s always indulged you in.
In a moment he’s gone from his chair only to appear behind you, winnowing far faster than stalking around the edge of the table to reach your seat.
He looms over you like a touch of darkness crowding you in, and you revel in it. The hue of his eyes is a dangerous violet, set with lightning striking in the distance instead of stars. It lights you up, your breath turning faster, the beating of your heart thunderous in the silence of the dining room.
You can see the war in his eyes when you tilt your head back, resting it on the back of your chair. You press your breasts out a little, and watch with rapt attention as his eyes flicker down the front of your dress before he rips them away, the line of his mouth tightening at your hidden tease of a smile.
In your head, late at night, you’ve touched him; a hand around his silky, long cock, mouth pressed to his desperately, too. He’s tasted your slick on his tongue, reveled in it, hardly able to hold himself back from crawling up your body and fucking you how he wanted.
But you’ve never had sex before, and as much as you want to, as much as you’ve tried, Rhysand has been holding back.
Maybe it’s because he’s nervous to cross that line with you. You’re his little sisters best friend for fucks sake, and he’s going to be High Lord someday. Sure, he’s slowly making his way through the camp girls, trying not to grunt your name when he fucks into them, because you’re never far from his mind.
Maybe it’s because he’s scared, if his sister or father ever found out. Araphel might be happy for the both of you. It’s a thought he has less often than the opposite, if she’s upset that he’s stealing one of her only true friends, and he doesn’t want that.
Maybe he’s afraid he won’t be able to hold himself back.
Your name is a growl on his lips. A warning, one you don’t have it in you to heed. So you go with your next best idea, taunting.
“I guess I’ll have to drag Ara down to the city when she gets back then,” you say with a sad sigh. You pick up your fork and force your eyes from Rhysand’s burning ones. You shrug a little, spearing vegetables with your fork. “Fuck whatever male I come across there.”
Rhysand is hardly able to hold himself back from baring his teeth. He won’t allow that, ever.
You can feel the tension roiling in his body as he stands at your back, his food long forgotten. You’re not faring much better with the ache pulsing between your legs and the dinner that’s turned to mush in your mouth.
“I’ll turn any male that touches you to mist.”
“Are you planning on doing that to yourself, too?” you quirk a brow as you glance his way, faking your disinterest despite the way that your core goes molten at his words.
Rhysands eyes darken in response, the muscle in his jaw ticking.
Your words are working, you can see it in the way that he holds himself back, body nearly shaking at every thought you’re planting in his mind. You know he’s on the verge of cracking, that he wants this just as badly as you do, so you continue.
“What if I told you that I wasn’t a virgin anymore. Would you fuck me then, Rhysand?”
“What?” His voice takes on a dark tone, the stars winking out from his eyes.
“If I told you that chef Einar was the one to do it, to bend me over his worktop and fuck me, what would you say then, Rhys?”
“I’d say you’re a liar. And that I’ll kill him either way.”
“If I spread my legs for him just like this,” you continue, leaning back in your seat and opening your thighs wide. His fingers ball into fists but he doesn’t move from his spot, still planted behind you, trying his best to ignore the way your scent hits him like a sword to the gut. “And let his hands roam down my body just like this—” You startle at the loud sound coming from the kitchen, pots falling to the floor in succession. It makes your hands that you’re dragging down your body falter, and before you can continue, your wrists are pinned in Rhysand’s harsh grip, his breath heavy against your throat.
“You should be very, very careful about what you’re going to say next, darling,” his growl sends your bones rattling, shivers wracking your spine. You wish it weren’t the harsh wood at your back but instead his warm body, holding you tight.
“I want you to fuck me, Rhys,” you gasp, and it sounds like a desperate mewl. “I need you to fuck me.”
Rhysand’s mouth is a whisper against your skin, a brand of night.
“If I’m going to fuck you, darling,” he purrs and your insides melt. “Everyone is going to know it.”
Summary: surely the extremely observant and powerful warlord of the sea won’t notice your little paintings all over his castle…
Content: pure fluff, with just a hint of romance. reader is written as autistic.
A/N: I recently watched a TikTok where somebody was painting cute little designs all around their house until their spouse noticed. It made me think of this idea. Like all my stories, Mihawk is based on a mix of his live action personality and the little bit I know from watching some of the anime and reading the manga quite literally years ago. Enjoy!
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You like painting. Always have, always will.
However, you’re not sure if the fearsome Dracule Mihawk will appreciate it so much as you, not when you’re painting inside his crystal ware cabinet. Especially not when you didn’t bother to get his permission. 
Not that you’ll stop.
If anything, it makes you determined to work quicker, nudging more of the delicate wine glasses aside to you can lean in and finish the adding paint strokes to the fine wood, creating a minuscule image of a little bottle in the back corner of the cabinet.
Is it silly for a fully grown adult to be doing this? Perhaps. Yet you can’t help but smile as you add the final touch to the tiny little label on the bottle, a small swirl of purple paint to match the label of the wine he shared with you yesterday.  
Perfect.
When you extract yourself and carefully push the wine glasses back in place, the painting is completely hidden. You have just enough time to hustle back through the chilly castle halls and tuck your paints in your room before he returns inside from his sword practice.
He gives you quite the long look when you settle in the kitchen later that day, those piercing yellow eyes seeming to cut through your surface and see so deep. And though you feel your breath catch—as it often does around this formidable man—you force yourself to smile innocently.
“Yes?” you ask.
“I will be sailing out for supplies this afternoon,” he says after a long moment.
You nod and draw your knees to your chin. “Do you need me along?”
“No need for that.”
You sigh with relief, watching as he turns back to his cooking. You don’t dislike people, but you do prefer your solitude. You always have, ever since you were a child. It’s why you feel content to stay here now.
That, and how utterly delightful it is to watch him cook.
He’s terribly handsome when cooking, though you’re fairly sure the man would look handsome doing anything. His knife seem to blur as he cuts up the vegetables, then begins to prep the meat. When he reaches for the pans, his cross necklace shifting against his finely cut chest, your heart skips a beat.
Yet he simply grabs a pan and gets to work, seeming to not notice the tiny cross shaped sword painted just behind where the pots hang.
Really, it’s foolish of you to do this. Yes, art has always been a passion for you, but you are a guest here. A guest he has allowed to stay for some months, and a guest who has shared just enough casual, accidental touches that you hope it might become something more, but still a guest.
Still, you’re curious. Just how much can you paint before the great swordsman notices?
You’ve been at it for a week now, ever since you found the dusty little bottles of paint tucked away in a forgotten storeroom. You use every moment he’s out to sneak little paintings around the castle, none bigger than your thumb.
There’s the little map against the doorframe of your room, like the treasure map you were following before you stumbled on this island.
Then there’s the small ape painted onto one table leg in the dining hall, a far less fearsome version of the beasts that chased away your captain and crew when you all landed here. You recall how frustrated you were that they left you behind, a frustration that has long since faded now that you can count on the safety of Dracule Mihawk’s castle.
He walks past you now, a hand brushing briefly against your arm before he continues on to grab the spices across the kitchen.
Not an accident, surely. Nothing this man does is accidental.
That makes you think of the minuscule wanted poster you painted in the corner of your doorframe yesterday, in honor of the fear you first felt when you realized just who inhabited this place. Funny how frightened you were that first day. And the second day.
…and the third.
By the forth, however, you had figured out he likely wasn’t going to kill you.
By the fifth you’d determined that so long as you didn’t irritate him, he didn’t seem inclined to make you leave either. In fact, as days went on, you became fairly certain he didn’t mind your company.
Which is why you now play this foolish game of sneakily painting designs all around his castle.
You always considered yourself clever. Yet apparently all it takes are a few “accidental” touches and heavy looks for you to throw all your caution to the wind. Teasing a warlord, vandalizing his castle… such a perfect plan for long term survival.
Still, you do truly enjoy painting.
Your favorite are the flowers you painted along a small crack in the stones of the great hall, colored with a yellow that makes you think of his stunning eyes, the eyes that have over the last few months shifted from disinterest and disdain to… something else.
Something that makes you hope perhaps you won’t always be just a guest.
You’re not brave enough to make any moves yourself—never really have been when it comes to matters of the heart—but that won’t stop you from seeing just where these lingering glances and soft touches might eventually go.
Those same eyes stare at you again now as you make your way to the dining hall and pick at your food, separating the small bits of tomato from the rest of your meal. You bite back a smile as his gaze cuts down to your plate and he takes note of the rejected vegetable. Knowing him, he won’t use it in your meals again.
You honestly don’t know how a man so observant has not noticed your paintings yet.
“Do you need anything from the village?” Mihawk asks, startling you from your thoughts.
“I’m alright, I think,” you say. Given the nearest village is several islands away, you take a moment to think about it truly, but everything you need has been provided for you already. If anything, you’re far more comfortable here than you ever were with the crew you sailed alongside, a crew that only cared about you for your rough mapmaking skills—your least favorite thing to paint if you’re being honest—and were quick to abandon you when the first hint of danger appeared. 
He nods and turns to his own plate. You try not to stare at the wall behind him, where you‘ve recently painted a tiny little figure sitting in a tiny little chair wearing a tiny black wide brimmed hat, hidden just at the base of the dining hall floorboards.
Trying not to giggle about it keeps you distracted through most of lunch.
“I’ll be off then,” Mihawk says as you both finish your meals, rising from the table.
“Be safe.”
Ah yes, because you need to tell the strongest swordsman in the world to be safe. You mentally kick yourself, but feel better when he offers you one of his rare almost smiles, even as he pauses by your chair.
“Don’t worry yourself,” he says, that confidence that you’ve come to admire woven through every inch of his words. “I highly doubt there will be anyone to challenge me. Truly a shame. Oh, as a note…”
“Yes?”
Your breathe hitches as he reaches out, gently taking your hand and lifting it towards him. You’re hyper aware of how strong his grip is. So powerful, yet intentionally gentle. Of how piercing his gaze is, those eyes that are so hard to meet, even as they set your heart racing. He lifts your hand to his lips and presses a slow, deliberate kiss against it.
Oh.
When he lowers your hand, he’s… smiling. Not just that almost smirk, but a real smile. Your heart lurches again at the sight. When he speaks, it takes you a long moment to process his words around the pounding of your heart.
“The entry hall could use a few more flowers, perhaps, if you must paint all over the walls.”
Then he’s off, leaving you stunned where you sit. Your draw your hand close to yourself, staring at the skin he kissed.
You hadn’t noticed it until now, but on the back of your hand is just the slightest smudge of dried purple paint from earlier.
As you run a finger along the paint, you find yourself hesitating. Then before you know it, you’ve risen from your chair and are hurrying to follow, to catch Mihawk before he leaves the castle.
Perhaps you need some supplies after all.
More paints. New brushes. A proper tray for mixing your colors… and maybe even a true kiss from the warlord you’ve fallen for.
Food is not something he's indulged in since he was turned.
He must've enjoyed it once, as every other undead being he's surrounded by. But when he lifts a wine glass to his lips or sips at a broth, all he can do is scrunch his nose, disgusted by the way it tastes. The only thing that satiates him now is blood. He's gotten used to it by now.
So why in the hells he'd thought he could make you soup to soothe your aching throat, he has no idea.
Surely, it can't be terribly difficult? Just a few vegetables, broth, and a pretty bowl to put it in. It would make you feel better if you didn't have to get up and cook for yourself, and he'd get to sit by your side, teasing the way you seem to sneeze every few minutes.
Unfortunately, he's finding that he was horribly wrong.
"You can't feed them this!" Gale exclaims with a groan. "It really is a simple recipe, surely you can make this much."
Astarion glares at him, then back down at the pot of soup sitting pathetically on the stove. He sees Gale testing it one more time with a spoon and shuddering, flinching at the taste. He would taste it himself if it weren't for the fact that it would taste terrible regardless of the culinary quality, but alas, all he can do is narrow his eyes at the deceiving concoction in the pot.
The wizard sets down his testing spoon and sighs. "Look, we can try again tomorrow. We should really feed them soon, anyway."
Astarion frowns. He's killed people and defeated dozens of monsters, and he's brought down by this? A bloody soup? All while getting scolded by Gale, of all people?
He hasn't even tried the soup, but he feels a bit sick.
"Oh, did you guys already cook?"
His ears perk at the sound of your voice, and you pace into the kitchen, wrapped in one of his many blankets. His chest swells at this, but hells if he'd ever show that on his face. "You should be resting, darling."
"I will. I'm just hungry," you sniffle, reaching for the pot of soup. And before Gale can stop you, you're already pouring yourself a serving, and you slowly lift the bowl to your lips, taking a long sip while the said wizard gawks.
Astarion's eyes never leave your expression as you bring the half-empty bowl down to the counter, swiping at the excess in your mouth. You seem in thought, raising a brow before turning to Gale. "Are you experimenting with recipes?"
"It's certainly not one of my makings!" he recoils, almost offended. "I'm afraid I have to give this honor to my friend, here."
Astarion rolls his eyes, readying himself for your criticism of his cooking. He knows you wouldn't be as inelegant as Gale when speaking your concerns about the damned soup, but he thinks it might have more of an impact on him anyway, simply because it's you.
Getting his feelings hurt over a bowl of soup would certainly be a new low for him.
You stare at him for a moment in a painful silence before lifting the rest of the bowl to down the rest. Even Astarion blinks this time, watching in utter disbelief as you drink the soup like the finest wine in Faerun.
And when you set the bowl down, you shrug. "It's good."
Gale's jaw drops, but all Astarion does is stare at you with wide eyes. You yawn, trudging back to your room without another word, his blanket trailing behind your heels. He only snaps out of his trance when he hears Gale sigh obnoxiously loud at his side.
"It's your lucky day. It seems the sickness has rendered her tastebuds malfunctioning."
Despite the embarrassing way, he feels the tips of his pointed ears flush, Astarion cracks a triumphant smile.
✧ tags : afab!reader + fem!reader outdoors sex, oral (f!recieving), reader is an outlaw, established relationship, desperate arthur morgan, 18+
✧ wc : 2.7k
✧ a/n : hello! this is part of a little warm-up series i do on my other blog where i pick three prompts and try to come up with something. i normally do them in a rut. im working on a commission and im super stuck so.
this actually landed on javier four times in a row but im being kind and sparing a friend so. here's mr. morgan.
✧ synopsis : arthur thinks the place between your legs would suit him quite nicely.
.𖥔 ݁ ˖˚☽˚。⋆
Honest to God, Arthur's never been like this before.
He ain't all that pious to start, so perhaps the sentiment doesn't stretch as far as he would like it too. But it's true, all the same - that in all the lives he's lived, he's never experienced this much bone-deep desire for another human being.
Which is outright ridiculous, since right now you're just making supper. Dinner, you always clarify with that yankee accent. You're going to have dinner together, 'cause Arthur needs to eat. He works hard, according to you.
It's not much, but you're a better cook than Pearson. Even if that's not saying a whole lot. And you're insistent on making the man eat, always on his case about how it's hardly enough for a man his size.
Arthur can chalk it up to being that you love him, as you have told him foolishly many times. He's sure you're not gonna be happy with him in a minute since again - all you're doing is making dinner.
It's just... something. Something about you today. Dammit, he doesn't understand it neither. You've got a job together, and you and Arthur play convincing husband and wife since you practically are anyway. Arthur's been watching you today closely. You lie pretty. Smile with all your teeth, clever with a careful finesse and an honest knack for debauchery and indecency.
You love calling yourself an awful woman. Joking about dying an unweddable spinster given your crudity.
But Arthur likes it in you. Of you. Likes it so much he's done nothing but readjust his pants watching you squirm your way out of every difficult situation and sling the revolver on your hip like a tried-and-true gunslinger.
You're a fine woman to him. A fine one.
The fire crackles as you place a pot over the little flame of the faux stove. You've made a real dinner somehow - with some vegetables and creeping thyme and carefully butchery of meat. It smells good and you seem proud of it, stirring the thing with the sharp end of your knife. Careful not to scrape the pot.
Arthur watches the light glow orange on your face, carefully observing the way it shines on you. You don't look up at all when you speak.
"Gonna stare a hole into me, Morgan."
He feels something warm crawl up his cheeks. He scratches his beard instinctively, tucking his hat over his eyes.
"'m sorry," He says, unsure of how to cover for himself. "Been thinking about some things."
"Don't hurt yourself," You reply, sardonic and dry. Arthur adores you. He laughs to himself and feels warmed by the pleasant smile that seems to give you.
"I'll try. Ain't much used to thinking,"
"Penny for your thoughts, then Mr. Morgan." You reply, carefully moving the pot around so nothing burns. "Might help you clear your mind if you get some of it off your chest."
He's backed himself into a wall. Goddamn him and his big mouth. He hesitates, taking it off this time. Fidgety.
"Yanno, there ain't a lot women like you. Not that I've met at least."
You give him a look. Your lips pressed into a flat line, unimpressed by him.
"Is that so?"
He laughs to himself. "It is indeed. You're a real piece of work. 'Specially going around batting your lashes, making yourself out to be a housewife."
"Aw what, did you like seeing me all doe eyed?" You smile to yourself, teasing but not entirely insincere. "If it helps, since you're the fake husband, I'm only half-acting."
That makes him grin. Though you say it with confidence, the sincerity it makes you flush.
"It ain't that," Arthur says again, looking at your face for the second time in a few minutes. "Just that you're a fine woman to be around. What do they call it...resourceful. That's what I'm thinking of."
"Who taught you such a big word, Morgan?"
"Trelawny, I'd guess."
You laugh, loud and beautiful and Arthur smiles. You look at him from across the fire. "Well, I'm glad you like my company, Mr. Morgan."
"I do more than like it," He hums, offering a reprieve. He nods at you carefully, head tilted. "Come 'ere,"
Your eyes widen at him, but you don't deny him of what he's asking. For that he is awfully grateful. You're more than capable and much less than needy. There's victory in your deliberate desire for him, Arthur thinks. You want him enough to let him chase you.
You come sit by Arthur. You're a little awkward with him still but he don't mind. It adds to whatever he feels for you, sugar-sweet affection and all. You sit on your knees and Arthur turns his head looking at you.
Beautiful. Beautiful thing you are, really. He has a hard time finding the words to tell you.
He reaches up, hand cupping your face. You lean into the touch, palm resting on calloused hand. He adores you.
"And quit with the Mister Morgan nonsense. Drives me crazy."
"Arthur," You say, slow and deliberate. "You know you're looking at me like you wanna eat me."
'"Read my mind, then."
"Arthur," You repeat, scandalized. He would smile if he wasn't so serious. "We're supposed to be eatin' dinner. You got into a whole spat with them Leymone Riders just today. You need to recover,"
His smile widens.
"Lettin' me go down on ya will heal me just fine,"
You look at him exasperated. Arthur leans into your neck, placing chaste kisses down the line of your jaw. He kisses you just there - underneath your earlobe, knows it drives you crazy.
"Lay down, sugar. Help a poor, injured man heal."
You pull away from him with faux exasperation, fond smiling breaking your face.
"You can be such a dog some times, do you know that?"
"I'm afraid I do,"
You give him another unimpressed look, but you listen anyways. Arthur moves so you can lay down on the bedroll - his bedroll. He takes off his coat just before you lay your head, playing it underneath you to get you more comfortable.
"Dinner's gonna burn," You tell him, almost reflexively. He laughs as he looks at you, your hands folded over your stomach and flat. He laughs at you.
"Burn? You feeling warm?"
"Arthur!"
And he laughs again, catching your boot in his hand as you go to kick his chest lightly. He sets it back down as he stares at you. You're quite the sight. Adoration bubbles up into his throat, blooms out into a hum. The sound of crickets and owls and all sorts of night wanderers sound - but none are distracting enough to pry his gaze away.
"You're looking too much," You say, your voice a half tremble. He nods.
"Got too," Arthur hums, leaning forward into your space. You always smell good to him, some cross between soft earth, and sweet liquor and clothes left in the sun. Skin and salt and sweet. "Who knows how long I'll be around."
He presses his lips to yours gentle and you kiss him - but only once before pulling away. Your eyes suddenly serious, warm palm on his cheek.
"Don't say something so morbid. If you go, I go,"
"Sweetheart—"
"No buts." You affirm, pressing your thumb to his lip all serious. Your eyes meet and for a moment - just one minute, all he wants to do is stop time from moving. From stealing him from you in life at all. Even a few seconds, intolerable. "Don't feel to good to hear, does it? So don't say it."
"Alright, alright," He huffs, laughing against your neck. He kisses it again, right against your pulse - quickening under his teeth as he bites and scrapes. He mulls over how much he wants you, and how little time there is to do everything. "Jus' lemme...I dunno."
Now you're cheeky, smiling up at him. Lord above, you do something so terrible to him. "Now that's just not true, baby."
He laughs deep and raspy. It's not true, because he knows exactly what he's after.
Arthur lets his hands plane over your clothed body. He doesn't bother with the ritual of undressing you entirely - since the act doesn't deserve the intimacy. You do, maybe - but Arthur's head feels too foggy to do anything civilized. He has to settle for letting his hands grip the fabric of your skirt and push it until it bunches around your waist.
There's no real delicacy in it, save for the way your breath hitches as Arthur gives himself better access. He moves to lay on his stomach between your thighs. He wishes it were brighter to give him better view. He's seen it plenty but looking at your pretty pussy alone gets him harder than steel.
His hands go underneath every layer of fabric to undo the little tie of your undergarments. You squirm when Arthur takes them off, but you don't pull away.
It's pretty. Even with the dim light of just the moon and fire to let Arthur see it. What entices him mostly though is the scent, after a long day of riding out alone - there's something about the way you smell - sweat and all that makes the back of his mouth ache with want. Makes his teeth hurt just dreaming about it.
He doesn't let his animalistic urges take him yet. He knows you need the build up. His hand is soft as he grips onto your waist. He pulls your legs further apart and lets his lips brush the inside of your thigh. Starts at your knee and works his way up, his mouth burning hot - open kisses. You giggle at the sensation of his beard, but it's tamped down with lust Arthur knows like the back of his hand.
Slow, deliberate, sinful. He knows the way you liked to be touched so exactly, but the pace is set more by his desperation. It grows ten sizes listening to you sigh and huff, feeling your hands come down to touch his hair and play with it.
"Arthur," Your voice calls. Pleading. Wanting him. You're so good at making Arthur loose his composure with so little. It's hard to tease you as your voice clips off into a whine. "Arthur,"
"I've got you," He says, assured. He means it as much as he means anything he's ever said. He ain't a decent man, but this much he can say full ways. "I've got you, sugar. Ease up. Let me take care of you,"
And so you again, breathless - boneless and eager. You let Arthur into your space, and something about that. Something about you. His heart races, blood pumping through his body. It pulses in his ears, head swimming with nothing but praise for you.
You're a fine woman. You're a good girl. The best he knows.
Arthur can feel the way your clit pulses with want before he ever puts his mouth on you. Makes him chuckle, gloved hand resting on your navel. He uses his thumb to pull it back, before using both hands to spread you open. Then, in an act less then gentlemanly, spits on it hard. He watches it land, lewd as it drips between your fold. He laughs to himself.
Another pitchy call of his name and Arthur decides he's had enough fun to get him through the evening.
He kisses your clit first, thinks it's only gentlemanly. When your hips buck up trying to chase the feeling of his mouth - he laughs. His hands dig into your hips. You're soft, skin dimpling from just how tight he holds onto you.
When he finally gets what he wants, his own body lurches forward from want. He nearly slumps into the ground - half-way between relieved and utterly addicted. It's a sense of euphoria unmatched by the finest liquor or cigars money can be.
The taste of you fills his mouth as Arthur eats.
Arthur is not used to playing predator. Not interested in the act of devouring. You often compare him to some sort of herbivore. But there's something too hungry, too visceral, too primal for him to be anything but a coyote. A teethed thing, all screwed up from hunger.
He lets his tongue slip against the seam of your cunt, all the arousal collecting in his mouth. His senses flood with something heady, sweet but bitter and he groans shamelessly as a result. Spoiled by the taste and utterly debauched.
"Oh, god - Arthur, you're—"
Arthur is pleased by the way your words are cut off by your own moan. He slides his tongue back up, wet muscle firm as it lays flat against your clit. There's a slight twitch like it's asking for more attention.
Arthur is all to eager vtoo provide, closing his lips around the twitching bundle of nerves. He knows what you like. Learned over time just the amount of pressure he needs to suck with and the speed he needs to draw his tongue over your clit to get you right at the very edge of your orgasm.
He teases you to that pace. Slow increases in either or, until it's just at that perfect medium. Once he hits that spot, you always moan so pretty.
You shudder, your body lurching up as your hands get tighter in his hair. "Aah, fuck. Ngh, Arthur. Don't do this t'me."
You begging him not too makes him want to do it more. If Arthur were any less aroused, he would. But his brain can barely think up enough to stamina to do that. His own cock is strained against his work pants - hips instinctively rutting into the bedroll just beneath him. Silently seeking friction all while hoping he doesn't get enough to distract him.
It'd be a damn shame, he thinks - letting anything pull him from the taste of your pussy. From the smell of it, from the sight of it, from the feeling of you. Sticky, pulsing strings of arousal coating his tongue and turning all his thoughts to dust.
His cock throbs again as you rut against his mouth. Arthur pins you in place.
"Please," You say. A magic word he ain't much stronger than. "Please make me cum,"
You really are a good girl, the way you know exactly what makes him tick. Arthur moans into your cunt as he sucks and licks and eats. He'd die over it, and he does not mean it lightly. It's the only thing in the world he wants to do in the moment. He laser focuses on finding that sweet spot again.
And he knows he does when you start whimpering. Squirming and holding onto his soft brown locks and pleading for something you don't know about. He can feel how wet your getting - dripping along down his beard and face. Thick strings of your arousal stick and slide down his neck.
He's never been a messy eater, but you've been disproving many of his prior understandings of himself. He supposes it's only natural.
"Oh, baby," You say, not even his name. Arthur knows it's a warning that you're gonna cum. All he can do is encourage you. He hums into your soft, wet cunt and you groan again. "Fuck, Arthur. I'm gonna cum."
Arthur knows better. He doesn't do a thing but keep going. Lets you move and thrash and pull away but keeps you firm in his place and eats your pussy until you can barely think.
He knows the knot is untying before you do because of how much you squirm. When you cum, you cum hard. Your back arches up into a picture perfect curve, toes curling and hands tugging at his roots for purchase.
He can feel every pulse of desire as you finally do let go. You cry out, loud enough to startle any nearby critters. Your fingers grip tight at the base of his hair as the orgasm washes over you. It's just as magnetic as it was the first time.
He's sure that will always be true.
When Arthur pulls away from your pulsing, wet core - he can feel just how much of his lower face is sticky. He's sure you also know, if the way you laugh is anything to go by.
And he's not long to follow after. Not even a few seconds and he can feel something in pants tighten - a mess of white staining the front of the denim in an onset of lust damn near shameful. Is he a teenager again? Lord above.
Breathlessly, you look down at him after you've ridden your high out.
Pulling up Arthur by the collar, you look at him slowly and frown. You look impassioned and a little frustrated.
You kiss him tender after you've come too. Once, then twice, then a another time with your hand still drawn into a fist. Arthur grabs it closed, opening your palms before kissing the palm of your hands until you're no longer mad.
"Hate how good you are at that," You admit, a little drunk of the euphoria of all of it. "Make me feel so crazy."
Arthur beams at you unapologetic.
"It's good to be that with me, sweetheart." Arthur says, kissing the corner of your mouth. "Now how about you go and give me one more?"
You laugh breathlessly but don't go to stop him at all.
Summary: You find out that your brothers wife cannot cook for shit.
————————————————————
You and Mikio hadn’t spoken since your last argument. It wasn’t much of an argument as much as it was you just yelling at him, but regardless you both hadn’t talked since. You said nothing to him any time he entered a room, you turned away and continued whatever activity or conversation you held before he entered.
Oh you were mad, beyond that even, but you tried your best not to let it show when around Mizu. Despite your anger towards Mikio you didn’t want it to affect how Mizu viewed him, if she even valued your opinion that much by this point. You helped her out with chores that Mikio had more or less just tossed on her, which were things that you had already been in charge of beforehand. You constantly told her there was no need for her to help, and that if you handled it before, you could handle it now, but she would always insist on helping.
So you let her.
It was coming close to sundown so you gathered up as many ingredients as you thought necessary and set them out to begin cooking. As you had set out your ingredients you had noticed someone enter the room through your peripheral vision. You turned a bit, not wanting to give the person your full attention or acknowledgement in case it had been Mikio, but you quickly realized that the person was actually Mizu. Now knowing this, you greeted the woman with a wide smile and beckoned her to join you.
“Would you like to help me prepare the food?” You asked as she knelt down beside you. She looked at all the ingredients you had set out with a confused look very evident on her face.
“I can try… but I’ve never actually cooked before.” She admitted, looking up from the food and towards you. Your smile never faltered, as you turned back to the now heated pot before you.
“We all have to start somewhere right? Here, why don’t you chop some of these.” You instructed, pushing some vegetables towards her and handing her the knife. You could see her eyes light up almost the instant she looked at the knife, happy to finally see something she knew how to properly use without help. She nodded at you before chopping to her heart's content. You on the other hand began to get the spices and other parts of the meal prepared before the vegetables.
You were nowhere near the level of a chef, you simply had to learn the hard way what worked with cooking and what didn’t. In the very beginning of your stay with Mikio, you fondly remember him taking at least some time out of his day to help teach you some basics to cooking. You wished you could somehow convince him to go back to the way he was, but you couldn’t change him and you knew that, and at this point you didn’t want Mizu to get hurt trying. She was his wife after all but you still felt awful sitting by and watching as he ignored all of her attempts to get on his good side.
On the bright side of everything, you truly enjoyed Mizu’s company and you made sure it was obvious to her. She always seemed so genuinely interested in everything you showed her how to do, from cleaning the stables, to cleaning the house, feeding the horses, and now even cooking. She was making an effort to adjust to this new life and she had not a single complaint about it. It had taken you a moment to get used to two other people being around all the time, but when it came to Mizu you welcomed it with open arms.
She was a lot more clumsy than one might initially believe her to be. The amount of times she had tripped or dropped a bucket while cleaning was enough to count on two hands. It seemed to you as if she wasn’t used to the apparel she now wore everyday which struck you as a bit odd, but you truly didn’t put any more thought into it. If anything, you found her slip ups pretty adorable for someone so tall and quiet.
“What do I do with them?” You heard Mizu ask, snapping you out of your thoughts almost immediately. You looked towards the dark haired women, quickly noticing the now entirely full plate. She had minced every single thing you had given her and it was clear that she was eagerly waiting for more.
“Oh, just set those aside for now. Here take this.” You instructed, handing her a small bowl of spices as you grabbed the stacked plate of vegetables.
“Just add a pinch into the pot while I try and find…” Your voice trailed off as you continued to search the area for your missing utensils. You could’ve sworn you had placed a ladle out along with the rest of your ingredients. You turned every which way, not seeing it anywhere as you placed the plate down and stood up. You looked back at Mizu who was holding a now empty bowl of spices, but this fact had gone completely unnoticed by you.
“You can add a few of those in, I just need to go and find a ladle.” You said, pointing at what Mizu needed to do next before walking off. Once you had quickly found the utensil you had needed you returned to the room to find Mizu now holding three barren spice containers. This time you indeed noticed.
Your eyes widened as you looked towards Mizu, then the pot, then back at Mizu who was just looking at you with a blank stare. Maybe it wasn’t as bad as you thought, there's a possibility she might’ve just added the right amount and… the rest just disappeared.
You knelt down near the pot, carefully stirring the soupy concoction with your new found ladle, and very carefully gave it a small sip.
Your face very quickly contorted into a sour grimace as you placed the ladle down. You noticed how Mizu’s blank stare very quickly turned to disappointment and you immediately felt horrible, despite the whole situation truly not being that big of a deal.
“I should’ve been more descriptive.” You reassured Mizu, she had told you she never cooked before so you probably should’ve taken more caution when instructing her.
“Is it fixable?” She asked, looking towards the plate of vegetables with a hopeful gaze.
“As much as I want to approve that idea, those aren’t going to fix this.” You joked, earning a bit of a pout from the woman. You snickered a bit at her reaction, before handing her some water. “This should dilute it a bit.” You offered, handing her the bowl. Just as she was about to pour the water in you stopped her, having thought of a harmless yet still annoying prank. You grabbed a separate bowl and poured some of the non-diluted soup in, then told Mizu to continue pouring the water in. She watched you set the bowl aside with pure confusion before adding more water.
“What’s that bowl for?” She asked, now putting the empty bowl down.
“Don’t worry about it. Now where are the vegetables?” You questioned, it wasn't exactly directed at Mizu, it was more or less just you speaking aloud. You both search around the very small area taken up by your cooking materials before you spotted them. You reached for them with haste but you hadn't realized that Mizu had too. She had managed to put her hand on the side of the plate before you had, so you ended up lightly grazing her hand with your own. You immediately retracted your hand, not wanting the moment to linger, but at the same time there was some part in you that did.
You very quickly just chalked it up to an intrusive thought, afterall you were not going to make moves on your brother's wife, you accidentally touched hands, it was nothing more than that, calm down.
So that's what you did, you retracted your hand and paid no mind to the action as if it had never happened before telling Mizu to throw the vegetables into the broth. She nodded, doing just as she was told, and dumped them in and as if by some miracle, the food began to smell really good, just the way it should.
While you both waited for the food to finish cooking, you thought it a good time to just talk to the woman.
“So… How are you and Mikio getting along?” You asked, turning to Mizu who was now blankly staring at her hands that were placed carefully on her lap. You could sense the inner turmoil on whether or not she should answer truthfully, so you decided to help her out a bit.
“If you wish to speak ill of my brother, trust me I won’t be mad.” You began to reassure her lightheartedly. “I guarantee that your complaints would equal mine.” You continued, earning an acknowledging smile from her.
“I don’t think he likes me all that much.” She admitted quietly as if she was ashamed to have said so. You looked towards her with a bit of pity evident in your gaze, not because you pitied her not being liked by Mikio, but because you pitied her for even valuing his opinion of her in the first place. You had to remind yourself, she is his wife now so it would only be natural for her to want him to at least show some approval of her. That only made his current treatment of her even more upsetting in your eyes.
“I’d say not to pay him any mind, he’s just a grouchy old man who doesn’t see potential in anything that wont get him back his honor.” You explained, sounding as if you were joking but you both knew you werent.
“Has he always been this way?” She asked, turning towards you a bit more to show her interest in your response. You smiled a bit, not looking up at her as you told her,
“No. He used to be very kind and patient, I’m sure you would’ve loved him had you met him before… but now? Ever since he lost his title he’s been so hellbent on regaining his honor that he truly doesn’t care about much else.” You rambled slightly, your hand balling into a fist a bit as you clutched onto the fabric of your clothes, trying not to let yourself get lost in the emotions of what was. As much as you missed the old Mikio, you knew even then he still had his flaws. You remembered vividly how he refused to teach you anything related to fighting, he claimed it was too dangerous but once you had argued it was more dangerous for you to not know how to defend yourself, he dropped the topic entirely and avoided you any time you would try and bring it up again.
That’s why you were so intrigued when you found out that Mizu was able to fight. You had hoped to one day work up the courage and ask her to teach you because you knew, especially by this point, your brother was in no position to change his mind. You figured now was not the best time to ask as you looked up to the woman whose brilliant blue eyes were staring back at you, a sympathetic expression on her face.
“Well, at least you know if you ever get tired of dealing with him, you can always come and find me.” You smiled at her, trying to cover up any negative feelings you might have let slip while thinking about your brother. You wanted her to get to know him for herself and make that decision on her own. The last thing Mizu needed was someone telling her how horrible her husband is, after she had just married him, that was sure to go south fast.
Mizu gave you a small smile before turning back to the boiling pot which definitely smelled like it was ready. Very eager to try her first guided attempt at cooking, Mizu began to pour out the soup mixture into different bowls.
You, however, had kept the bowl with leftover undiluted soup and purposefully placed it down where Mikio always sat.
It hadn't taken long for both Mikio and Mizu’s mother to join you two at the table, both of them just as eager to eat as you and Mizu were. Before you ate however, you made a point to Mikio that,
“Yours is a special recipe, I just wanted to try something different than usual.”
Making sure to keep any of the blame for the tastefully challenged meal off of Mizu. Both Mizu and Mikio looked towards you, the same lack of certainty spread across their faces as they looked towards Mikio’s bowl. It didn’t look too much different from the rest of the dishes, but the moment Mikio placed the bowl to his lips and took not even a full second of a taste, he knew what was wrong. His face scrunched just as yours had done when you originally tasted the extremely strong broth. He immediately placed the bowl down, trying to suppress the urge to cough or spit it out to not look bad in front of Mizu and her mother. You watched on in glee as he proceeded to make himself look like an idiot, all while he sent an unrelenting glare your way.
“I see you must have forgotten a few steps.” Mikio muttered through several coughs. You merely smiled, very cheekily one might add, at the man before commenting,
“I guess you’re just not strong enough to handle that taste.” You shrugged before sipping your own food, which evidently tasted much better than his. He knew you were trying to get under his skin, the worst part in his eyes, was that it was working. He knew you were upset, he knew you didn’t like the way he had been acting, but he also believed he knew what was for the best. He believed if he continued working everything would go back to the way it was and then you would no longer have a reason to be so petty towards him. He wasn’t ready to be swayed on his thinking, so he wouldn’t be.
The three of you ate in peace before Mikio fully placed his bowl down and stood up, claiming that he had more work to finish up before leaving the room in silence. Mizu looked towards the door the man had just walked out of. Her expression wasn’t easy to read but she definitely didn’t exactly seem sad that he had left. She then turned to you, gesturing to Mikio’s now abandoned plate and asked,
“What was that for?”
“Just… some sibling rivalry. Nothing really.” You answered. It wasn’t exactly a lie. In a way you were rivals but you just hadn’t realized how yet.
Things in L/n,Michaelis and Faustus household that just make sense
I have been thinking about this for a long time so lets get into it.
Spider webs for Clauds spiders which by the way are everywhere.
Three pet cats which Sebastian found on the street,whcih y/n and Claude told that he should wash since he found them on the streets.He was deeply offended by you since you sided with Claude on this one.You just simply told him that you do not what flees or any type of disease they might carry,and reminded him that your just as much a cat person as is he.
Dancing shows that Claude owns which are always by the door.
Picture of three of you at the amusement park on which you look happy and both of them look like they wanna kill each other.
A first aid kit for when you hurt your self or bump into the doors,wall,wardrobes,etc.Which is very concerning.
A cabinet just for you favorite snacks,drinks,sweets,etc.
Five bedrooms in the house.
One is Sebastians for his free time which is petting the cats.
One for Claude for his knitting and for his spiders.
One for you when you just can not deal with them,there is also a bag of sault in your room for times when you mad at them and you draw a line which they can not pass unless you remove.
One big room for three of you which consistes of a very large bed with five pillows and blanket made of silk,two sofas,book shelfs,a gramophone,one big wardrobe,rug with spider and crow prints,one large mahogany desk filled with your work and there work and a fire place.
The fifth room is for the cats which you insisted on having because your jealous that they spend to much time with him which Sebastian teases' you about relentlessly.
Two bathrooms with large tubs,botells of your favourite shampoo,thooth brushes,hair brush the best kind,pads,for some reason condoms,skin care products of the highst caulitly,large mirror above the sink decorated in the Victorian style.
A large sittingroom with a coffiee table,all sort's of your favorite flowers,beautiful curtness made from the finest matirials,a very long sofa with a two armchairs and a few fluffy blankets which you three use mostly you when its cold,a big screen television and under it is a very large fire place.
Beautiful garden with lots of fruit and vegetables which Sebastian and Claude planted them selfs,they love when they have fresh ingredients cooking you the finest meals with them.
Small table with a few chairs and lounge chairs when you wanna sun tan.
Kitchen consistes of a large oven a small table with four chairs,a pantry which they keep all sorts of spices,flower,suger,vegertables,fruit,etc.
Large refrigerator for oil,meat,milk,yougrt,chesse,egss,etc.
And at last a front porch with a very comfortable bench and a table where in the dusk you three sit as you talk about anything and everything.
"Why?" You screamed at the top of your lungs; the neighbors were probably filling a noise complaint at this very moment. "Tell. Me. Why."
Is this what couples do? Go to sleep feeling alone and cold because there is no one beside them to keep them warm? Eat their meals in silence, on the rare occasion you even ate together? Scream at each other until there's no more breath in their lungs? Pick a fight as soon as the person they're in love with walks through the door, barely having enough time to take their shoes off? Because that's what yours and Chans relationship is like.
"I'm really not in the mood for this right now, y/n. I'm tired and I haven't eaten or slept in the past twenty-four hours. I don't even know what you want from me. I bust my ass to make sure you have a roof over your head and food to eat and you treat me like this." He looked perfectly fine to you though, refreshed even.
"I treat you like this?" Your blood was boiling. " You treat me as if I don't even exist. You stay gone all day and night and when you do come home you barely even acknowledge my presence. It's like your annoyed I'm even here half the time." Tears pricked the back of your eyes, but you refused to cry right now.
"Because you always have something to nag about. I'm always working too much or I didn't do the dishes or take the trash out. It's always something with you, I can never just rest when I'm here. That's why I'm always at the studio-"
"Oh, cut the shit Chan. We both know you're not always at the studio." You interrupted him.
"What are you talking about?" He was starting to get visibly irritated with this whole conversation, but you didn't care. you were done pretending like this didn't bother you.
"I know your cheating on me." It was your first time saying it out loud, and boy did it have a bitter taste.
Chans whole demeanor changed, his face fell, and his shoulders tensed. "What?"
"I'm not an idiot Chris, if you aren't getting it from me, you're getting it from someone else. I mean c'mon it's so fucking obvious, you're gone all the time, and you haven't touched me in months," This time a stray tear fell down your cheek, a result of having these emotions stored away for weeks. "If you don't want me anymore just say it, don't torture me like this, I can't take it, I care for you too much." And then it all came crashing down on you at once, the possibility that you might lose him, you might lose the beautiful life the two of you used to share. The late-night movie marathons, the times you'd cook dinner together, laughing at the way he was terrible at chopping vegetables. The walks on the beach where he'd pick you up and pretend to throw you in the water, getting a kick out of the way you'd hold on to him for dear life. The times when he kissed you before leaving for work, and made love to you when he returned, telling you how much he missed you while he was away. How much he loved you.
The next thing you knew you were sobbing into your hands, letting go of everything you kept hidden for so long.
Chan stood there, eyes glued to the floor, mouth agape. You were too busy crying your eyes out to notice the tears escaping past his eye lids too. "Do you really think I'd do that to you?" His voice broke halfway through his sentence.
"I don't know what to think anymore. I feel like I don't even know you." You whispered before finally wiping your tears away and raising your head to look at him. You were more than surprised to see his bottom lip quivering and his whole body shaking, in a silent cry. You didn't know how to react; you'd never seen him cry like this before. You wanted to lunge at him and hold him close, to take all his pain away and tell him everything would be okay, but he should be the one doing that for you, not the other way around.
"I'm so sorry," He sobbed. " I have no excuse to be so distant like this, but I'd never cheat on you. Like it or not, you're the only person in this world for me, and now knowing that you thought that was the reason I haven't been here hurts like hell, but I don't blame you, I don't even know why I've been like this, it's like I'm on autopilot, working until I fall asleep and do it all again the next day.
"Why didn't you just tell me that? Anything would have been better than the silence."
"I don't know, baby." A broken cry leaving his lips, but the pet name warmed your heart, and you couldn't help yourself any longer. You wrapped your arms around his neck and pulled him closer to you than he has been in weeks. He immediately responded, hugging your torso and burying his face into your neck. If you had known he was feeling this way you wouldn't have sprung this whole thing on him the way that you did. "I just feel so numb, so I did the only thing I know how to do." Which was make music. Because that's what he did, poured every ounce of his emotions into the beats that he sewed together to make something beautiful. "I don't know what's wrong with me." You held him as he cried and explained how tired and confused he was as to why he couldn't feel anything. He had drained every last drop of himself into his work, that's why. He always put the members and fans first, inconveniencing himself every time someone asked him of something, picking up the other members and staffs slack just so they could meet their deadlines. He doesn't know how to pace himself; he goes, and goes, and goes until his body and his mind can't take it anymore. he can't feel anything because he's felt enough. He has nothing left to give.
"Shh, baby, it's okay. everything's going to be okay."
~
And so, for the next few months he was going to work on himself and rest, to regain what he once had. After that night you made him take a few days off from work so he could rest, in which he used the time to make up to you by making love to you several times a day. He set up a steady schedule for work, making sure he didn't stay any longer than nine to ten hours a day and taking the weekends off. He even stopped doing the things that the managers and staff were supposed to do, which resulted in them falling behind on many things, and made for a hectic couple of weeks. But in the long run people started to realize that Chris wasn't letting them use him as he was before, so they pulled their shit together and finally did their jobs correctly. This was the first time you've seen him so happy and comfortable in his own skin, and you hoped that it'd never end.
hi birds of paradise and of prey! I sincerely hope your 2024 has been kind to you so far, and if it hasn't, I hope it starts being fucking nicer soon. We got eyes on it and are ready to take it out should it fail.
I'm coming to the end of my list here soon, so if anyone has ideas on what they'd like to see next, please do hit me up! Even if its just a piece of media with interesting food in it and not a specific dish you wanna see. My roommate got me a recipe book from that TikTok fantasy tavern guy, "recipes from the lucky gryphon"? So we could also take a shot at a few of those, although im not really familiar with his work. Regardless-
We will be making Stuffed Cabbage from Lord of the Rings Online today!
(As always you can find the cooking instructions and full ingredient list under the break-)
MY NAMES CROSS NOW LETS COOK LIKE ANIMALS
SO, “what goes in to this Stuffed Cabbage?” YOU MIGHT ASKYou cant kinda put whatever you want for seasonings and even the meat filling. I used ground beef but pork and lamb are also stellar candidates.
Yellow onion
Garlic
2 eggs
Ground beef
Rice
A head of cabbage
Oregano
Thyme
Red pepper flakes
Cumin
Crushed tomato
Tomato sauce
AND, “what does this Stuffed Cabbage taste like?” YOU MIGHT ASKBa bawsa
Very, very filling wow
2 rolls filled me up for a meal and i made about 20-ish from one head of cabage
A bit plain tbh, the texture is great but I'd really double up on the seasonings
A blank canvas for you to impart your spice preferences onto
Reheating makes it taste almost identical to fresh
Would pair well with a hot sauce dip
could also go well with an artichoke dip
If you run out of room and need to layer the rolls, I'd try experimenting with pouring some of the crushed tomato and sauce inbetween the stacked rolls. Otherwise the ones at the bottom lack a lot of the tomato flavor. However it might make the bottoms on the rolls laying ontop soggy?
. Where rice called for, used long grain white rice
I've never blanched anything before. Theres not much western food that calls for it, meanwhile whenever my friend from malaysia shows a dish they ate, 9 times out of 10 the vegetables are blanched. Much easier process than the fancy name might suggest- boil water and dunk the thing in until its done. Whatever 'done' may be for the thing you are cooking.
Also for the ground beef (or whichever meat you use) you don't have to cook it beforehand, but in doing two tries at making these cabbage rolls i would recommend you at least season your meat before mixing it with everything else. The meat will cook to a safe temperature inside the cabbage rolls, i just prefer the taste and texture of it when cooked twice.
I give this recipe a meandering 7/10 (with 1 being food that makes one physically sick and 10 being food that gives one a lust for life again.)
I want to review more horrible recipes, truly i do, so that the rating scale isnt always a 6 and above, but whenever i try something horrible its like "why the fuck would i put all the effort into making and sharing a review of this thing i Do Not Want others to eat????" yknow?? Would people be interested in roasting horrible recipes?
🐁 ORIGINAL RESIPPY TEXT BELOW 🐁
Ingredients:
1 yellow onion
6 cloves of garlic
2 eggs
2 lbs ground beef
1 1/2 cup cooked rice
1 large head of cabbage
28oz crushed tomato
14oz tomato sauce
Oregano
Thyme
Red pepper flakes
Cumin
Salt/pepper
Method:
Saute garlic and onion in butter over medium heat until onions are caramelized. When done, remove from heat and let cool.
Season the beef to your liking with cumin, red pepper, and salt. Very, very lightly cook the beef in the same pan used for the garlic and onions. Cook until it starts to brown, but dont let it darken.
Beat eggs thoroughly with oregano, thyme, salt, and pepper.
Add all of the above ingredients together in a bowl with (cooked!) rice. Mix thoroughly then cover and let rest in the fridge.
Core and blanche your cabbage in boiling water, peeling them off as they become limp.
Once you've separated all the leaves, cut off any thick stems that would prevent the leaf from folding.
Put roughly 2 tablespoons of meat filling into each leaf. Fold the sides of the leaf inwards and roll it up. Place each cabbage roll seam-down into a casserole dish.
If they don't all fit in one layer, its more than okay to stack. Try not to stack more than 2 layers though.
Once you've used all the cabbage, take your can of tomatos and pour them over the rolls. Mix some oregano into the tomato sauce and pour that over the rolls as well.
Bake uncovered in the oven at 350 for about 2 hours. Dont worry if a bit of tomato on top looks burnt.
IF REHEATING LEFTOVERS: Bake 10 cabbage rolls in the oven at 320 for about 40 minutes. Reduce time for less rolls.
Was bored and also procrastinating other things, so have a ranked list of Hermits based on whether I think they can cook or not for funsies. Vibes only.
—
Beef: The expert. Is well versed in almost all manners of cooking, and is an extremely skilled chef, particularly with regards to meat dishes, and is a particularly skilled butcher.
TFC: Also up there with Beef, but TFC is also a master of rare ingredients. He’s good at foraging, and he uses ingredients in his cooking that aren’t typically used in just every day life. His techniques may seem a bit primitive, but they are highly effective and his style of cooking might be called simple food made complicated.
Stress: Also a very good cook who puts a lot of emphasis on nutrition. She makes meal plans and prepares a lot of her food at the beginning of the week, and her cooking always makes sure to include a balanced diet. She enjoys cooking and likes to have fun with it. Makes a killer roast chicken.
Impulse: Is surprisingly good at home style cooking. He doesn’t make anything fancy or anything, and his presentation is always a little sloppy, but his food at least tastes good.
Cub: Doesn’t cook much, but when he does he is actually secretly a very good chef. He cooks for himself a lot, but it’s only once in a blue moon that someone else gets to eat his food.
Wels: Is a decent chef, but is incapable of cooking for a single person. He makes way too much food every time and is incapable of portioning, and as such he is the direct inverse of Cub, and he never cooks for himself if he’s alone. Is also very good at desserts.
Ren: Has a bottomless pit of a stomach. Has a big appetite and loves all food and really enjoys big dinner feasts. Is also good with cooking meat specifically. He has a special smoking method that is a real crowd pleaser. Is also good with basic rice bowls and his cooking tastes very homely.
Gem: Is good at treating fish specifically. Also anything involving wild game. Like TFC she is very good at foraging and using ingredients found in the forest. Her cooking is a bit unrefined, but has a very light, refreshing sort of feel to it.
Cleo: An average cook, but is very good at a few specific dishes. (As a side note I’ve actually tried one of Cleo’s recipes that she talked about on stream and it is literally the greatest thing ever, I made it once and people request it all the time)
Joe: Is good at making drinks specifically. He makes a mean margarita and is good at making mixed drinks and cocktails, but otherwise is an average chef with regards to food. Makes very good nachos though.
Doc: Like Cleo, Doc is good at making a few very specific dishes. He makes several German specialties and is also very good at treating vegetables, but outside of these specialties he is rubbish.
Bdubs: Stereotypical grill dad. At least he thinks so. His seasonings consist almost exclusively of basic spices. Meat is the only thing he cooks, but otherwise possesses no real flare for cooking. Despite this, he thinks very highly of his skills, and the food he puts out isn’t bad really, so the Hermits still let him cook every once in a while.
Scar: Scar always tries his absolute best, and his cooking swings wildly from perfection to the most disgusting thing you’ve ever eaten in your life. There is no in between. It’s 50/50 what you’re going to get, but he has fun either way.
Jevin: makes a mean Mac and cheese, but outside of this, he is a very basic cook. He makes himself sandwiches and grilled cheese and maybe some pasta, but otherwise doesn’t cook much else.
Hypno: Ok. He can kill something and cook it, but he’s not the best butcher and his food is just kind of thrown together. There’s no real theme to any plate he puts out. He’s half decent with seasonings and spices though.
XB: Can make fried rice and that’s about it.
Keralis: Can copy other people’s dishes when given instructions, but when left alone has no idea what he’s doing.
False: Doesn’t really cook much. She probably could, but most of the time she’s after something quick and easy. Whenever she gets hungry she just grabs an apple from the bowl or eats whatever leftovers are in the fridge cold.
Etho: Lives almost exclusively off of instant ramen.
Zedaph: treats the kitchen like a chemistry lab and anyone eating is a test subject. He’s not allowed in the kitchen very often.
Xisuma: This man could burn juice. I don’t know how, but he’d do it. He is a sopping wet cat in the kitchen. He’s the type that tries to cook but fails so miserably that every time he just ends up making a bowl of cereal for himself instead.
Grian and Pearl: have cooking battles competing over who can make the most disgusting dish. Grian is like the little toddler that always wants to help but is so bad that no one will let him. He’s also always the one standing over your shoulder and sneaking bites of things when you turn your back. Pearl can’t cook herself, but she has good knife skills so she is often allowed to help out with the prep work.
Mumbo: Will eat anything and everything you throw in front of him. He does not care. He also does not cook at all. When left to fend for himself he demolishes the kitchen by eating every raw ingredient in the pantry. This man would eat a sack of flour if you let him.
Tango: This man does not eat unless you make him. You have to physically drag him to the table to get any kind of nourishment, but he is always very appreciative of other peoples cooking.
Howdy? Hope you're having a great day so far!! had an idea for Kid! Tenko if you don't mind?
Tenko as a kid is a bit (a lot) yandere(platonic) for his mom and doesn't let her go outside without him tagging along to go to the grocery store, he gets really possessive. Then he grows up, becomes taller and more intimidating (ig around high school?!) brags about her cooking being the best and won’t let any man ask her out at all (cuz she only needs him obv).
i really don’t know if it makes sense hope it does lol let’s us cultivate this idea 😭
- (^O^☆♪
YESSSS anon you get it omg imagine how protective your baby boy is its so dfdjvhhdvsbdb anw here's a short fic. i might make a full fic in the future, full on plot with lots of angst <3 lemme know if yall would like that!
Platonic Yandere!Tenko x Mommy!reader
"Mommyyy mommyy!! can we buy this??"
You were out grocery shopping with your little boy when he showed you a cereal box that had a toy with it! Akali from league of legends, it says on the box. You were always wary about your little boy playing that game, because you saw how other people in YouTube or.. tweetch? would rage and cuss out loud! You can't have your precious baby become like one of them! But you still gave in, I mean come on, who could resist those cute little puppy eyes. You rubbed his fluffy head as you placed the cereal box inside the cart, while he made a little happy dance and proceeded to explore the grocery store. Back then in his dead old family, he didn't have the luxury of going to the grocery store, he thought it would be boring but with his precious mommy everything is so fun! He went further into to the snacks isle of the store and took a lot of snacks and junk food, he knew you would scold him lightly about needing to eat healthy food, but he'll promise that he'll be a good boy and eat as much vegetables and fruits you want! Just as he was going back to you he saw a man talking close to you. It seemed like he was telling a joke and you just had to laugh so sweetly. Tenko immediately felt his stomach drop and his blood boil at the sight, he ran to you, dropping all the snacks in his arms, and clung on your leg tightly, glaring at the man. The man chuckled nervously, genuinely scared of the feral eyes your little gremlin had.
"Mommy who's this?"
"Oh Tenko, this kind gentleman is from my work! I never knew he lived close to us!" Tenko still held his glare, not trusting the man. How could he trust him? He might hurt you, take you away from him. Tenko felt his hand twitch, he really wanted to disintegrate the man right now, no one will take mommy away from him no one. His hold on you was tightening and you quickly reached down and asked him what was wrong. "Mommy I really want katsudon later.. can we have it for dinner, pretty please?" He looked up at you with those adorable eyes and you immediately kissed his cheek as you went to the meat section of the store. Tenko had other plans though, he went to the man you were talking with, with an apple on hand. The man looked at him curiously "Hey little sport, do you need anything?" Tenko just stared at him with dead eyes which creeped the man. Tenko then took of his gloves then fully disintegrated the apple. The man looked in shock as goosebumps began to cover his skin, his instincts telling him to run this kid was not normal, so ran he did. Tenko smiled to himself feeling proud as he ran to you engulfing you in a hug. You just thought how innocent and cute he was! That night you both had katsudon and cuddled to sleep. This would become the norm, him always going with you to the grocery store. On days that you went shopping without him he would get nervous and fake cry thinking that you didn't want him anymore, guilt tripping you into always letting him tag along.
Now he wasn't your little baby boy anymore, he was now taller than you, stronger than you, smarter than you and is entering 2nd year of high school. He would always go with you whenever you went outside, and to be honest you found it a bit worrying, I mean, he wasn't a little kid anymore. Kids his age usually would go out with friends their age, but your baby boy always chose to be with you. Did you baby him too much? yes He would sulk if you didn't invite him to go with you, wherever it be. Whether you went to the mall, salon, grocery store, convenient store, literally anywhere outside. He still thought it was too dangerous for his fragile mom. And you thought it was too overbearing. Even at school, all he talked about was his mom, games, and his mom. Bragging about how his bento that his mommy made was the best, though always refusing to share when his friends asked for some. His friends made fun of him being a mama's boy and he didn't really mind, I mean it was true, and he kinda liked being called like that. What he didn't tolerate however, was when his friends would start talking about you in a way that little boys in puberty did. An ex friend of his once made a comment about how you looked "Damn Tenko's mom is literally so hot. What a milf. I'd smash hard" the dumbass laughed as every friend of Tenko looked at him, scared for him. Needless to say, Tenko beat the shit out of him, 10 people including teachers and security had to work together to pry him off the poor guy. The poor dude got confined in a hospital for months. Tenko got in trouble by the principal, and was almost expelled, but your pleas reduced it into home suspension instead. Oh well, Tenko thought, sounds like a reward. You gave him a good scolding at home and asked him why he did what he did, but he wouldn't say a thing, not wanting you to hear the disrespectful comment. After a few days of sulking and asking for forgiveness you finally gave in as you hugged him, rubbing his hair, your baby wouldn't beat someone without a reason right? There had to be a reason. After all, all this time during home suspension he was such a good boy, doing all the chores for you, cooking food, and even giving you a massage. All you knew was that your not so little baby boy was an innocent angel. You kissed his cheek as you bid him goodnight and went to your own room.
One day, while in the grocery store, Tenko was hording some snacks and junk food to place at the cart in the other isle where you stayed looking at ingredients for dinner. When he went looking for you he saw a tall buff man in sweatpants and a hoodie talking to you, huh deja vu, you looked so happy and you were...blushing?? Tenko couldn't believe his eyes as he felt his skin burning, he wanted to rip his skin out. He rushed to your side as he scratched his neck furiously demanding to know who the man was. "Mom who the fuck is this? Is he bothering you?" You gently took his hand to stop him from scratching his neck "Language Tenko! I guess its time to introduce you two. Tenko meet Toshinori, we have been talking for a while now." You say as you shyly blushed. Tenko wanted to gouge his eyes out. He felt like vomiting. He felt his heart race as he began to slightly shake, in disbelief, in fear, in anger. "Hello young Tenko! Y/N talked about you many times before! You're her pride and joy."
Tenko was quiet the entire ride back home, and even at home he remained eerily quiet. "Tenko is something wrong? It might be a bit of a shock to you, but I promise Toshinori is a good man. When I started dating him, I thought about how this would affect you of course. I think he would make for a good father for yo-" He stood up abruptly then went to his room without saying a word. Once inside his room he started to throw his things, breaking them. You heard all of it but decided to give him space, feeling bad for hurting him. Tenko couldn't believe it how did he not notice?? No wonder you would always look at your phone and smile. Why did it have to be him of all people. He sat at the middle of his mess of a room and began scratching his neck. He had to think of a way to get rid of that pest. He had to keep you with him. All you needed was him, no one else matters.
"You stupid fuck, I'll fucking kill you. Mommy's all mine."
A/N: hii anon! omg i hope this was okay, i enjoyed writing it and i miss baby!Tenko lol. feel free to ask for more!!
Synopsis: Where slowly Sanji realizes that his feelings for you have changed
Warnings: Pure cuteness, nothing really alarming, just a passionate and jealous Sanji
Word Count: 1,4k
Notes: This should have been an ask, but when I finished it I realized it was very different from what I had been asked and decided to do another one. But so you don't miss it, here it is being posted, I hope you like it. Sorry for the English
Notes edit: Pronouns have been updated to neuter thanks to @waitingmydemons , thanks sweetie
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It's really not a secret that Sanji is a bit emotional and has a tendency to fall in love with pretty people, so when you introduced yourself as a new crew member with that bright yet nervous smile, no one would really be surprised if he had hearts eyes and a wide mouth.
Of course, initially he wouldn't think he was really in love, after all he doesn't consider himself a one-man man. That's why he tries to act as normal as he can around you, still having the aura of a lover and servant who would do anything for you, but also trying to convey credibility that he wasn't really in love.
Of course, he can't run away from it for long, but everything starts much slower than it seems, see:
First it starts with your kindness, you were more than excited to meet all of the crew and become friends with them, so you would walk up and down asking if you could be of assistance or just spend some time chatting to find out more about the people you now live with.
First Sanji didn't want to ask you for help, he didn't want to burden you with cooking and he also wanted to try to impress you by showing how he can handle the entire kitchen by himself. But you insisted that you could at least be of some use, so he sighed deeply and asked you to cut up some vegetables and occasionally stir certain pots or add ingredients. Nothing that could really be difficult if you were only pretending to want to help.
You might not be the best in socializing, but you were definitely doing your best to make the conversation flow naturally for both of you. So Sanji also made an effort so that you could talk calmly, he would ask a little more about your village and journey, always being careful not to press where he shouldn't, sometimes he would ask about your hobbies and food tastes, nothing really deep but that still counted.
You weren't far behind, you loved to talk and talking to Sanji was so easy! You asked about the restaurant, about Zeff, about his fighting style and his passion for cooking, even if you couldn't have known that there was a much deeper past there, you were pleased with what you discovered the first few times you started talking.
As the weeks passed and you were intimate enough with everyone, Sanji initially thought you'd drift away a bit, focused on doing your own thing and settling in on the ship. But what would be his surprise when you showed up in the kitchen not long after asking if he could stay there and keep you company while you studied some things. He didn't know what that feeling was, but his legs went weak, his heart skipped a beat, his stomach dropped, and heat surged through his body. He smiled and stammered out a statement as he tried to get back in control.
And you came back the next day, and also the next, you walked around the islands together, on the rounds... It was strange, at least for Sanji. He was close to all the members, that's clear, but he didn't feel that close to any of them. Every time you got close to him, his heart fluttered and he started stuttering, not knowing exactly how or what to say. He just needed to talk to you, whatever the subject.
He couldn't be falling in love with you, could he? Of course he thought you were attractive, your hair was magnificent, your eyes were sparkling and your smile was amazing. He also really liked your personality, your love for the crew and their tastes, your focus and determination, how you never give up on what you believed to be right. Of course, he also felt strange next to you, with his legs shaking, his stomach nervous, his hands sweating and the lack of words. But that was all just because you were a new person compared to the others, that would pass with time, wouldn't it?
Definitely not. But he only saw it in the first jealousy crisis he had, you should spend the day on the island together since you wanted to cook something and needed the help of someone experienced in that. But just in the nick of time Usopp needed your help with art supplies and you ended up leaving your object behind, prioritizing helping your friend before that. Of course Sanji didn't mind, it was just one day, you would have many more. So what was the problem?
He didn't know it, but as he walked around town looking for supplies he couldn't stop thinking about you, how much more fun it would be to run around the market stalls listening to your beautiful voice. How you could stop by some cafe and eat together while chatting, even how nice it would be to cook with you afterwards, teaching you what he loved so much. He muttered irritably, taking another cigarette, perhaps the fifth in an hour, as he stopped in a square to collect his thoughts.
That's when he saw you. You weren't together with Usopp, but in front of some stalls, buying jewelry and small weapons, he immediately smiled and thought about approaching. Perhaps now you were free and could spend the rest of the day together, but the events that followed had his stomach twisting as he bit down on the cigarette until he tasted it on his tongue. A man approached you with a huge bouquet of flowers, he appeared to be a civilian and by his clothes perhaps he worked as a florist or gardener. The man smiled and offered you a beautiful bouquet of roses, you smiled with slightly flushed cheeks and accepted, the man would not miss the chance to pass his hand to your shoulder as he approached.
Sanji expected to see discomfort on your face, maybe despair, anything he could use as an excuse to go over there and kick that man until his face was unrecognizable. But you didn't. Instead you looked like you were having fun, laughing and getting red in the cheeks at everything the other said, Sanji felt his stomach sinking and hurting, what was that? He grabbed his bags and walked back to the ship, not in the mood for shopping anymore that day.
Robin was in the kitchen as she had stayed to watch the ship, she greeted him quickly without taking her eyes off the book she was reading. He responded with as much cheer as he had, none, and then proceeded to unpack everything for storage, although he really hadn't bought much for being back early. He could feel Robin's gaze on her back, perhaps it was obvious how awkward he was, but the man didn't wish to trouble the beautiful lady with feelings he didn't even understand.
"How was your day on the island with (y/n)?" She asked quietly, but Sanji felt his entire body shiver and go rigid.
"Ahn… They couldn’t go, busy with Usopp I guess" he tried to dodge the subject and replied in the most ordinary tone, although there was a tremor in his voice.
"Oh, I see" he thanked her for the next few minutes of silence, maybe she would just forget about it and he could pretend that nothing happened "is that why you are so upset?" He nearly dropped the plate he was washing.
"I'm not upset" he said that to who? For Robin? For himself? Who was he trying to fool?
"Hm…" she hummed "Whatever you say" a good quality of the woman is that she wouldn't insist on these matters, she knew when to withdraw if necessary "But you can talk to me if you want" Sanji smiled appreciatively for having such a generous friend.
"I just…" he shouldn't have said it, he didn't even know what he was feeling! "I… I saw them with someone else besides Usopp… They looked happy" he mumbled not really knowing what the problem was, what exactly was he angry about?
"Oh… I see" he could hear the woman's smile.
"Understood what?" He asked, nervous and curious.
"Hm? Didn't you notice, cook-san?" She had a lively, light tone.
"No?" he asked, confused.
"You are jealous." She finished and it didn't take long to get up, ready to leave. Sanji is immobilized, completely paralyzed and not knowing what to say, let alone what to do. Robin must have noticed his face in shock and laughed at the door, then spoke calmly "Don't worry, it's normal to be jealous when we're in love…"
Then she left, leaving the man alone, and for the first time since you joined the crew, Sanji realized something: he was in love with you.
ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ• ────── ✦ ────── •
Notes: Well that was it! It was the first thing I wrote after my short break so I don't know if it was really good, but I liked it even though it was short. The next stories will be the ask
Also I'm planning to start a series of imagines so that's why orders are closed, hope you understand!
warnings: suggestive content, miscommunication, angst if you are a tortured poet, highschool love, protective!carmen, touch depirved!carmen, mention of death
w/c: 2.8k
a/n: okay, okay, yes i know i said this would be a two part series, but god i have too much to say and it didn’t feel right to cram it into two parts. Also i wanted to add a little smut snippet and of course that required its own chapter??
The ring of the Beef doors resound through the murmur of the kitchen, the lunch time rush had dissolved to a quiet pull, regulars coming in for their pick up orders and the occasional customer seated in one of the back booths.
The soothing quiet the crew had been relishing just moments ago is interrupted by the familiar boom of Richie’s voice and the loud bang of the cartons of produce he’d left on the counter.
“Guess who the fuck I ran into down at the Market” Richie yells, beaming with the kind of smile you’d only have with the worlds biggest secret on your tongue.
The crew gathers at the kitchen station, hands rubbing tired eyes as the work day slugged on.
“What, Richie?” Sydney humours him, throwing the last of the chopped vegetables into a pot to slow cook, wiping her hand on her shoulder towel as she looks up at Richie.
“Our very own Bug” Richie replies, eyes glinting as they watch the white linen shirt of Carmen’s back stop suddenly.
Carmen pauses, the sound of his knife falling with a clank. It takes a moment for him to turn around and face Richie, partly because he doesn’t want to meet the goofy pull of his features that told him he was playing around and partly because he doesn't want to face that what Richie said might be true.
But he faces him anyway, because he always will for you.
“What? You saw a bug? Really Richie, you had to come all this way--” Sydney groans out, pressing a finger between her eyebrows, smoothing out the skin that has begun to wrinkle there.
“Shit, sorry, I forgot you guys don’t know her”
“Her? You got a little lady you've been keeping from us Richie?” Tina replies playfully, swatting a towel towards Richie who barely dodges it.
Carmen coughs abruptly at Tina’s comment, in which Richie bites back a grin, before raising an arm up in surrender.
“She’s an old friend of the family, Carmen and her used to be real close in High school. Come to think of it, she was your only friend actually, and was way out of your league” Richie says with a condescending tone, there is a look of thoughtfulness on Richie's face like he's actually thinking about Carmen’s high school experiencing and remembering the clear lack of friends he's had beside you.
The sound of cat calls and oooh’s resounds throughout the kitchen, the crew coddling this small but rare piece of information about Carmen’s past. Carmen wasn’t exactly conversational, whilst he regarded the crew as his flesh and blood that didn’t stop him from keeping a lot of himself and his past hidden. There was always the air of mystery that followed Carmen Berzatto, and it seemed the persona was about to deteriorate as a look of anger flashes across Carmen's face.
“Oh fuck you Cousin, She never even liked you” Carmen replies defensively, before the realisation that you were in town hits him full force.
“How did we not know this, I mean no offence Carm, but you didn’t seem like the type to be..open to friends” Sydney voices, the look of shock not hidden from her voice
“It was different with her, right? I didn't have to- she was- it was just different” Carmen mumbles, the visions of you seem to take over Carmen's mind, like visors, all he can see now is you. The curve of your neck, the smell of Lavender and shea butter from your mothers garden and your lotion. Carmen can almost taste it again, and its reminder has him craving you in a way that was all too dangerous for a man like him.
Especially since you were back in town, maybe not even a block away from him, holy fuck, you were back in town.
“Wait, uh, she’s in town?” Carmen replies, sheepishly, scratching his neck in nervousness that didn't go unnoticed by the crew.
Carmen? Nervous? About a girl? Oh this was good.
“She came down for work, designing a whole piece of Madison Avenue. Think she’s staying for a little while” Richie replies “You should ask her when she comes tomorrow, you guys still talk..right?’
“Yeah uh, ‘course” Carmen mumbles, a feeling of grief washes over him like a wave, and without blinking, without a shudder of a breath you consume him again.
*
The New York winter was brutal, nothing like the December’s in Chicago, and the thought causes a grumble of cold air to leave Carmen’s mouth. Carmen couldn't help comparing everything in New York to the city he ran from, it was a habit akin to a shadow he couldn’t shake off.
Swarms of yellow cabbed taxis and car’s move through the city streets painfully slow, splashing waves of dirty street snow onto the frosted sidewalk. The rush of strangers wrapped in a decade of layers, the protective wool and fleece wrapping their hands and necks, make their way back to their apartment and homes, eager to feel the warmth of fireplaces and heaters and escape the ice cold snap of the unforgiving winds and falling snow.
Carmen should be making his way home, in fact if he hadn’t stopped abruptly at the scene in front of the open pane window of a shop, he'd had felt the warmth of his century old apartment heater by now. Walking back would be the right thing to do, it would be the sensible thing, but Carmen wasn’t known for his sensibility and recklessness was all he knew. Especially when it comes to you, always when it comes to you.
So Carmen has found himself, stood stationary, looking rather strange in the middle of the street as city goers grumble and step around him, looking into the dimly lit art studio cramped between a Chinese takeout shop and a fabric store.
There you were, crouched in a chair, scribbling on a canvas across a wide workbench, papers and pens scattered messily in front of you. You haven't changed one bit, and maybe it had felt like centuries ago for Carmen when in fact it had only been a couple years but it was as if someone had taken a picture of his memories of you and placed it in front of him.
You were so beautiful, it stole Carmen's breath away, it skipped the rhythmic beat of his heart and caused it to hammer against his chest in that nervous way you’ve always made him feel. Even surrounded by papers and stained coffee mugs and the drag of stress and sleep deprivation weighing on your sunken shoulders you are the most beautiful thing Carmen has ever, and will ever see.
Were you real? Carmen’s feet are stone, like if he steps through the doors, if he moves even an inch you'll slip between his fingers and disappear from his vision again. He has to see you, he has to apologise and tell you everything that has happened, he has to feel your head resting against his shoulder, he needs to fall back into the gentle rhythm you both shared before it was lost to time again.
But before Carmen can move from his spot on the sidewalk, before he can even catch your gaze, he watches, in horror, as a tall haired man walks over, dressed in a brown knitted sweater and slacks that looked simple in the expensive way, and wraps his arms around you before behind.
His heart shatters completely, and he can't stop himself from watching on, you throw your head back with a laugh, hugging him back with a grin as he whispers into the nook of your neck and it's the twist of the knife in his stomach, tearing the entirety of its contents onto the sidewalk, staining the frosted pavement crimson with his innards.
And it was like Carmen was 15 again. Seeing one of his classmates ask you to prom before he could even utter those words, watching the way you danced effortlessly in his hands beneath the gleam of the disco ball above. Your date had two left feet, and Carmen wanted to rip him off of you and replace his skittish dance moves. Carmen wanted to give you what you deserved instead of a football jock who couldn’t make you laugh.
That same childlike feeling of anger and jealousy spreads through him, that was sood replaced with anguish. He had lost you, he had waited too goddamn long and had lost you. What the fuck was he doing? How did he think he could just walk through those doors and stumble into your life again, and somehow fall back into the same familiarity of your friendship like nothing had changed?
Carmen had done stupid things before, but Carmen had felt utterly foolish then. You were mystifying, of course you would be in a relationship, there were probably hundreds of men that threw themselves at you, and it wasn't like you were waiting for him.
The memory of saying goodbye to you was still fresh, he could remember the time when you turned your back to him, and the same way the sun shone through the hallways windows when you turned your neck to meet his gaze for the final time.
He could remember what he had for breakfast, cereal with not enough milk and an apple, he could remember how he had two different pairs of socks on, one itching him throughout the day, he could remember the feeling of the ingrained drawings of your Geography teacher’s sketchbook, he could remember the way you looked at him when he told you to promise him not to say goodbye.
He remembered it all like it was the day he died.
That day had been marked into his body and mind, into his subconscious until it was all that consumed him. Wherever he was, he looked for you, he searched and yearned for you in crowds and lines for coffee, in the driver's seat of cars next to him stood stationary at the traffic lights.
Everytime he closed his eyes all he could see was the way you looked at him like you didn't believe him and it broke something, because it had been true. Carmen had promised to see you again, and he lied, and that late New York evening, it was like Carmen had died a second time.
And just like at 17, Carmen makes peace with watching you on the sidelines, bottling up any feelings he had for you in fear it would ruin everything you both shared. You were his greatest friend, and he couldn't allow himself to be selfish, not when you were you, and he was him. He didn't deserve you, and it didn't matter how hard he yearned for you because you were too good for him.
And it’s that thought that causes him to step away from his spot on the sidewalk, the imprint of his boots marking a spot on the concrete where the fallen snow hadn't touched yet, before it’s soon covered in the white flesh of frost, hiding that he was ever there.
From that moment on, Carmen watches you from afar, the unyielding desire to ensure you were safe at all times consuming him until his protective gaze fell over you like a blanket. He had kept up with your moves, silently cheering you on with each award and recognition you received throughout the years, whilst he himself began to climb the culinary ladder, or knife. He had never let his eyes waver, and then Mickey died and he came running back to Chicago with his things and a broken heart.
“Yeah, you all will meet her tomorrow at the dinner” Richies words cause Carmen to shake himself from his vision, what did he just say?
“You, You did what?” Carmen questions, unable to keep the shrill from his voice as the crew look towards him in confusion.
“Yeah I invited her, it’ll be like a catch up for the fam, she could see all the work I’ve done and see how you haven't changed-”
“Fuck Cousin, you- you should’ve told me before, now i got to make sure everyone has something to eat, and- and i got to add a a second chair” Carmen begins to mumble out, running a hand through his curls stressfully as he began to pace around the kitchen.
“Hey, Carmen relax, we've got room for one more person” Richie chuckles
“Wow, Jeff, just the sound of this girl’s name has got you shitting bricks. I think someones in loveeee” Tina singsongs with a grin, but there was something soft behind her eyes, in fact everyone in the kitchen smiled with a hint of happiness at Carmen's behaviour.
They had thought their Chef was closed off to love, and having felt its strength, each of them in their own ways tried to get Carmen out there, whether it be blind dates or meet cute’s, but it never worked out, and Carmen had always kept that part of life secret from even Richie and Sugar.
It seemed now, that you had been the mysterious woman that had stolen Carmen's heart, and they were giddy with excitement to finally meet the person who had gotten Carmen Berzatto scared shit less.
“Hey Cousin, why don’t you help me unload the rest of the cartons from the truck?” Richie replies, a subtle way of getting Carmen out of the kitchen and into a space that had fewer faces watching his every move.
“Yeah, uh okay” Carmen replies, following Richie to the back of the Bear, resting his back against the brick wall of the alleyway.
There is a silence that stretches between Richie and Carmen at that moment that Richie would usually fill with slanted jokes or rambles. But even Richie knew you were a sensitive topic for Carmen, and he waited patiently for him to approach the topic on both of your minds.
“So, we haven’t spoken in nearly 8 years and she's coming tomorrow to my restaurant” Carmen replies, and Richie nods along.
Carmen shakes his head scoffing, looking up at Richie with a look of fear and embarrassment and elated happiness all in one.
“I don’t know what i’m gonna do Cousin, I- I don’t know what to do with myself with her, fuck what if ruin everything?”
“Hey, hey easy, I was poking fun at you before but you and her, that was something else entirely that the rest of the Family would never come close to understanding. When you were together, it was like, it was like I could see the anxiety and stress physically leave you, you fucking laughed with her Carm, when you weren’t in the mood to even smile, even after everything you’d see her and it was like nothing else mattered, like no one else mattered.
I mean, the whole family was betting on you both running off and getting eloped, you were both in your own bubble, and did not give a shit about anybody else.” Richie chuckles, resting a hand on Carm’s shoulder to stop him from pacing.
Carmen looks up at him with furrowed eyebrows, pressing his canines into his lips
“What if she doesn't want to speak to me?, Ya know, what if she came for- for you and Sugar and-and she doesn't even want to see me” Carmen rambles, fear taking over any sense
“Are you kidding Carmen? You both hadn’t spoken in nearly a decade and she still said yes to coming to the fucking Beef of all places on a Friday. She wants to see you, Carm, you've just been too stupid to see it, you've always been.” Richie replies, shaking Carmen like he was trying to shake the sense into him.
“You know what you have to do now, right?” Richie says, when you've both rested on one of the stools, lighting a cigarette for warmth against the bite of the cold.
“I’ve got to make tomorrow fucking perfect, thats what I’ve got to do. Which is almost impossible for this goddamn place” Carmen groans out, taking a drag from the wrapped tobacco stick.
Richie lets out a laugh, rubbing his stomach as he leans against the brick layered wall.
“Don’t know about that, they just might for her” Richie replies, before getting off of the stool, dusting his jeans and walking towards the pick up truck.
“Where are you going?” Carmen calls out
“You thought I was kidding about these boxes? Chop chop cousin, we gotta get them in before it fucking rains” Richie yells back, letting out a laugh at Carmens loud groan.