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nolita-fairytale · 3 months

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bad moon rising | carmen 'carmy' berzatto x fem!reader

summary: in another lifetime, you meet mikey berzatto by chance one halloween night in nyc.

or, the fic based on this headcanon

warnings: angst, use of she/her pronouns, no use of y/n, second person pov, drug usage, high mikey b, swearing, family drama, depression, not a happy ending

wc: 3.7k

a/n: i wrote about grief again. shocking, i know. thank you all for your interest based on the headcanon it came from and thank you for your patience. i wanted so badly to post this around halloween and have been sitting on it since the better part of last year as one of my wips. finally, finally, it's here!! i took a slightly different approach than the headcanon, but i think it still does it justice. let me know if you'd like to be added or removed from the carmy taglist.

this what-if fic takes place october 2021 because it's make my heart surrender-canon that mikey and reader never met; reader x carmy are best friends and colleagues but it has not gone further than that.

masterlist

Halloween, in another lifetime:

“Can I get hands, please!” Carmy shouts out to the entire kitchen, only to be met with a strong chorus of ‘hands’ in response.

His team works together like a well-oiled machine; a tight run ship, led by a captain near-suffocated under the weight of the chip on his shoulder.

“Chef!” you hear the sound of your general manager’s voice ring through the kitchen, causing many a-heads to turn. She rarely comes into the kitchen during dinner service unless it’s serious. Her eyes lock with Carmy’s as he looks up from his expo, as if she’s about to deliver bad news.

His mind races through the possibilities, preparing to solve the next oncoming crisis. Could it be an undercooked steak? An overcooked duck breast? Another complaint of ‘too salty’ or ‘underseasoned?’

“Chef, you uh… you have a visitor,” she says instead–the last thing he expects to hear.

A visitor?

“Wh-?”

“Someone’s here to see you. Says he’s your… brother??” Carmy’s ears begin to burn, as he searches for your face amidst the chaos, your gaze there to catch him even from across the kitchen. Your presence feels reassuring, like a strong man in a storm. He doesn’t know what to do. He’s knee deep into service and he cannot get the sound of tickets being added to the expo out of his head. He opens his mouth to say something but he’s uncertain any words come out of his mouth, unsure of what he’d even say. You send him a reassuring nod, and it’s as if in one look, you’ve made the decision to go.

“Chef, you good?” Carmy hears you ask the head pastry chef.

“Yeah, we got it. But don’t take too long,” she answers with a curt nod of approval.

He watches as you nod again, this time in recognition of your boss’ answer, as you pull the food-grade nitrile gloves off of your hands, discarding them in the nearby trash can. Without a word, you follow Kate closely behind, exchanging a few words with her as the two of you disappear to the front of house. There’s a war inside of Carmy as he watches you go–a pang of guilt and a feeling of relief–that whatever it is, you’ve agreed to take care of it.

In all of the years that he’s been in New York, no one’s come to see him–the possibility of it happening now, let alone as a surprise, feels improbable.

Must be a prank or some shit….

It couldn’t really be Michael, could it?

As you seek out the answer, your feet carrying you faster than you anticipated, you realize that you’re searching for a face you’ve only seen in photographs. Kate follows closely behind while you push through the front door of the restaurant only to find a man pacing just outside of the restaurant, a ghostface mask in hand. You can tell he’s been sweating, the circles under his eyes just as dark as the ones you’ve become so familiar with in Carmy, with an anxious look in his eyes as his gaze turns towards you.

He’s certainly not the larger-than-life older brother you’ve seen in the sparse amount of pictures that Carmy’s shown you.

“I got this, Kate,” you mutter over your shoulder with a confident nod, letting your general manager know that you’re good on your own. “You sure?” she asks you quietly.

“I’m sure,” you answer, watching as a disappointed look spread across Michael’s face as soon as he sees that:

“You’re not Carmen.”

“Uh… no. I’m not,” you reply, hearing the front door to the restaurant close behind you. The man swears under his breath, and you watch as face changes from disappointment to annoyance quickly, as you try your best to come up with an explanation that may satisfy him. “He uh… he can’t come out. Not right now. So he sent me.”

Michael scoffs with a shake of his head, his eyebrows quickly rising and falling incredulously as he takes another drag off his cigarette.

“Shit... the guy can't even make time to see his big brother?" he asks, the annoyance obvious in his voice this time.

You take a step towards him, your arms folded across your chest.

“I’m sorry. I-, I don't think he was expecting you,” you answer, much more compassionately this time.

“Right,” Michael mumbles, barely loud enough for you to hear. You watch as he throws the butt of his cigarette down on the pavement, before stamping it out.

“It’s just-. He would if he could. I know it. It's just a busy night. I-... we're doing 200 covers tonight and uh... well, he runs the kitchen so,” you try again, and you can practically feel the disappointment (and resentment) burying itself deeper in Michael.

“Yeah, no thanks, lady. You don’t need to explain it to me. Jagoff can’t even make time to say ‘hi’ to his brother. Sends you to do his dirty work instead,” Michael dismisses you, bitterly.

He takes a beat. And then another, as if he’s accepted that he’s not going to see Carmy after all.

“Why don’t you come inside? I’m sure-,” you offer, taking another step towards him.

“‘S alright, sweetheart,” he dismisses you again, this time gentler. “You don’t need to make up for his bullshit.”

You open your mouth to say something—anything in defense of Carmy—but you’re certain that nothing you have to say will be enough for your best friend’s older brother (save for Carmy coming out here himself).

With a nod, you accept defeat, turning to go back inside. But there’s something that stops you—like you just can’t just go back inside without trying to remedy the situation one last time. This time all you say is:

“I don’t know how long you’re in town for but… we should be off by midnight.”

Michael only offers you a sympathetic smile before you slip back inside.

—---------------------------------------

It’s not until you and Carmy are packing up your things to head home that he brings it up—his mysterious visitor—hesitant to ask the question that’s been eating at him all night.

“So uh… was it really him? Michael?” he asks you, cautiously, as he watches your face carefully for any kind of reaction.

“Uh… yeah. I mean, at least the guy I recognized from your pictures,” you reply, hoping that the answer (or the fact that he missed his brother) won’t break his heart.

A beat.

“What’d he want?” Carmy asks, trying to mask his curiosity as best as possible.

“I don’t know,” you answer honestly. “Seems like he found himself in the city. I didn’t ask. I didn’t… know if you wanted me to.”

Carmy tries again.

“Oh no. It’s-, no I didn’t-, no, it’s okay.”

He takes his time, making up his mind about what he wants to say next.

“It’s weird, right? Guy can barely pick up the phone to say hello but… he can show up unannounced and just like-, expect me to drop everything?” he asks you—the look in his eyes telling you that his mind is miles away.

“I- I don’t know, Carmy,” you reply, heavily. “Are you… do you wish you had gone instead of me?”

Carmy’s quiet as he follows you out of the back door of the restaurant, thinking his answer over.

“I don’t know,” he answers slowly, a lack of confidence as the words fall out of his mouth. “Maybe?”

He’s not sure how he’s supposed to feel and right now he just feels… ambushed, which only makes him want to shut down.

Instead, Carmy changes the subject back to your post-work plans, the two of you debating what kind of post-shift late night meal you’re going to have before settling on a few slices of pizza on the way back to your place. You and Carmy cut through the alley to the front of the restaurant so that you can begin your late-night sojourn, and it’s only when he spots something odd that he stops you.

“What the fuck?” Carmy cuts you off, holding an arm out in front of you to stop you from walking any further.

You follow his line of sight right over to a figure moving towards the both of you. In the brief glimpse you’ve gotten of the person moving towards you, all you can see is a quick flash of the ghostface mask they hold in their hands as a bus drives by, obstructing your view.

Carmy’s heart stops, fear filling his chest as the bus speeds by, the person getting closer and closer until…

“Michael?!” Carmy shouts, squinting as he sees the man approach. His expression of pure shock leaves his jaw agape, rendering him speechless as he scrambles to try to find better words that:

“What-, what the fuck are you doing here?”

“Shit,” Michael scoffs playfully, with a chuckle, his breath uneven from the light jogging pace he’d kept. Michael takes note of the arm his younger brother’s extended, shielding you from him. “What? Can’t your big brother come surprise ya in the big city?”

Carmy shoots him a look that says, ‘when have you ever done that’ and Michael nods knowingly, his eyebrows quickly raising, then lowering as he makes peace with the fact that he’s never been that guy.

“Me and Deb… we came up for the weekend,” Mikey admits with a heavy sigh. “Tried to do something nice for her but, you know, broad’s been a real bitch-.”

“Mikey,” Carmy warns, taking a tone you recognize—the kind he uses when he’s going to yell at the saucier for a broken mornay.

“Right,” Mike course corrects at the volume of a mumble, heaving a heavy, yet disarming sigh.

Carmy nods slowly as he allows some part of him to relax, his arm falling away from you as the two of you exchange a look.

“We uh…. Got into another fight. She’s on her way back to Chicago now,” Mikey explains, the disappointment evident in his voice this time, almost as if it were an apology.

“Sorry,” Carmy mutters quietly, as you exchange a look with him.

“Nah it’s-, she’ll get over it,” Mikey brushes off with a shrug, his tone shifting as he extens an arm out to you.

“Fuck, where are my manners? I never properly introduced myself earlier. I’m Mikey. Mikey Berzatto,” he grins with a charm and confidence that’s been absent in both of your interactions with him till now. The smile that spreads across his face is contagious as he looks from you to Carmy, then back to you. “Shit. I’m sorry. ‘M fuckin’ jagoff, interupting your night like this. I should probably get-.”

“No!” you protest, almost too quickly, earning a look from Carmy. “We weren’t-, we were just getting off work and were gonna grab a bite. Maybe even… a drink?” you suggest, a hopefulness in your eyes as you turn towards Carmy.

“Yeah?” Michael asks, his interest piqued.

“Uhm. Just gonna grab a bite actually,” Carmy forces out, sending a glare in your direction.

“You know what’s crazy? I know a spot. With food. And drinks,” you challenge him, silently begging him to just go with it.

“You cool with that, Carm?” Mike asks this time, looking from you to his younger brother once more. It’s the first time that Carmy thinks Michael’s ever looked to him for approval.

Carmy’s quiet for a moment, torn between wanting to burn it all down or declare a gleeful ‘yes’ because at least Mikey wants to spend time with him.

“Um. Uh. Yeah. Yeah okay,” Carmy finally agrees.

“Alright, let’s fuckin’ do it!” Mikey rallies.

And as he turns to go, your voice instructing him that it’s only a few blocks from here, you and Carmy fall into stride, just a few steps behind Mikey.

“I’m gonna kill you,” Carmy threatens you—though there’s no weight to it—through gritted teeth.

You shove him playfully, bumping your shoulder against his side as the two of you walk, answering with a promise that: “You’ll thank me later.”

—---------------------------------------

You sit on one side of Carmy, Mikey on the other, and you can see why Carmy looks at his older brother like he hung the sun, the moon, and the stars above. There’s something different about Michael—something different than when you met him just hours ago outside of the restaurant—as he corrals the three of you into a round of shots.

As the shots of tequila arrive at the bar, Carmy dismisses his, his attention fixed to the still-full whiskey on the rocks he’d ordered earlier, just to appease his older brother. He watches you carefully as you and Mikey clink glasses before throwing back your own respective shots.

“Carm?” Mikey asks, nodding towards the third, untouched shot glass.

Carmy hesitates.

“It’s fine. I’ll take his,” you jump in, half as an attempt to give Carmy the out he so desperately desires, and half because, admittedly, meeting the great Mikey Berzatto makes you a little nervous.

Before anyone can protest, you reach out, picking up the shot glass, before tapping it down against the bar top, fearlessly throwing it back. Michael watches you with a sense of amusement, as your face crinkles in response to the sting of the liquor and the bitterness of the lime you chase it with.

He smirks, sharing a knowing look with his younger brother that says, “I like this girl,” which in turn only causes Carmy to blush. Before Mikey can say anything more, the song that blares through the speakers changes, earning his attention as he hears the familiar words:

“I see the bad moon a-risin' I see trouble on the way I see earthquakes and lightnin' I see bad times today”

“Alright, alright. Think it’s a little too on the nose if I admit that I love this song? On Halloween? C’maaaaaahn,” Mikey asks, almost as if it’s a confession in reference to the easily recognizable Creedance Clearwater revival hit.

“No! No, I love this song,” you’re quick to assuage his hesitation as your eyes light up in response to his recognition.

“You got good taste, kid,” Michael notes confidently, winking in his brother’s direction. “I like this girl, Carm.”

Only this time, he says it out loud. Carmy only shakes his head, the blush already running across his cheeks taking a deeper shade of red.

“Yeah, yeah. Uh. You both uh.. Like music,” Carmy smiles, gesturing from you to his brother. At least this is going a lot better than he expected it to, he reminds himself.

“Oh yeah?” Michael asks, clearly intrigued.

“Oh that’s right!” you exclaim, simultaneously. The excitement that brews within you has you stumbling over your words as you manage to get out:

“You’re-, oh my god! The Lennon jacket!”

“What?” Mike asks, shooting you a funny look.

“I’m sorry. I just-. I realize I’m not-,” you stammer over your words, trying your best to explain your earlier exclamation over your own excitement.

“You gave Carmy the denim jacket – the 1950s selvedge Wrangler!”

“Just like the-,” Michael starts, the two of you finishing his sentence at once with:

“... just like the one John Lennon had!”

“Marry this girl, Carm. Marry her right now. Tonight! Or I will,” Michael encourages, slapping his hand down against the bar. He speaks with so much bravado and conviction that you can only imagine that there was none left for Carmy. “Fuckin’ christ. I never should’ve let you two meet,” Carmy groans on an exasperated exhale as he shakes his head once again.

“Oh c’mon, Carm,” Mikey rouses him, with a playful eye roll.

“It’s totally my favorite jacket of his! I-, well, it’s a long story but we actually became friends over the jacket because he spilled a drink on me and-,”

“Ahhh real smooth.”

“No! No, it was okay, I promise. I-, I don’t know if we would’ve gotten to know each other if he hadn’t so-. Call it a lucky jacket, I guess,” you smile, stealing a look in Carmy’s direction. He shoots the smallest smile back to you, cognizant of the fact that Mikey’s observing the entire interaction.

As you begin to tell Michael the story about the aforementioned Lennon jacket, it could be minutes, hours, or days that pass, once you and Mikey finish trading facts about music like they’re trivia cards. It’s almost as entertaining as watching Mikey and Carmy go at it, bouncing facts about the history of denim like you’re at the French Open.

You excuse yourself to the restrooms—partially because you really have to pee and partially because it seems like this evening is going well—wanting to give both brothers some time alone. And as soon as you’re out of earshot, Mikey’s on Carmy like an FBI Investigation.

“This your girl, Carm, or what?" he asks with a casualness to his voice that sets off alarms in Carmy’s head.

"Mikey, stop it,” Carmy dismisses him, hoping more than anything for this to be the end of the conversation.

Instead, Mikey scoffs, shaking his head as he downs another shot.

"Then at least tell me you're hittin' that."

“Michael!" Carmy hushes his brother, a warning and protectiveness in his voice this time.

"Are you fuckin' serious right now, Bear?” Michael pushes further. “What, you're telling me you're not when she’s walkin’ around in your jacket, talkin’ about wearing your clothes to your big brother and I’m supposed to think-?"

"She's not!” Carmy cuts him off. “She doesn’t do-, she’s.... my friend. Jus’ give it up alright.”

"Shit. Wish I had a friend like that. Ya friends, kid, or are ya... you know... friends?" Mikey smirks, earning a venomous glare from his younger brother.

Carmy shakes his head in response, jaw clenched, as he stares down at the bar top, a feeling inside of him that he doesn’t like when he even thinks about Mikey looking at you like that.

"Shit, I thought I taught you better than that, Bear."

There it is again.

That feeling.

He’s not sure how to name it, but it’s enough to make Carmy want to deck his brother right then and there as it rises inside of him.

"I'm serious, Mike. We’re just friends,” Carmy spits out. He’s much more serious this time. “Cut it out."

But Michael’s too quick, his voice growing louder as he interjects on the tail end of Carmy’s insistence.

"Oh come on! The chick's smokin' fuckin' hot. And I can tell that you like her. I'm not blind, Carm. I see the way you-."

And if it’s as if something snaps inside of Carmy as he exclaims:

"Don't talk to me like you know what's going on in my life! Fuck!"

"Carm-."

"Can't even pick up the damn phone and then you just... waltz into town acting like everything is okay?!” he fumes, standing up out of his chair.

His face grows redder with each word, and it only confirms Mikey’s suspicions: that his little brother is absolutely a goner for you. He’s not sure he’s ever seen Carmy like this and he’s torn between feeling proud of his kid brother or pissed that the kid’s turning this around on him.

"Well, if you ever bothered to come home. You know mom's been askin' about you since you never fuckin’-,” Mikey roars, eager to relinquish the hotseat here.

“Oh don't bring mom into this!" Carmy protests.

It’s your voice that snaps him out of it—brings him back to earth as he hears you ask:

“Everything okay?”

Carmy can practically hear his heart pounding away in his ears; can feel the blood rushing through his head as he takes a deep breath. He swallows, takes a beat, then turns to you.

“Yeah uh. I think we should go,” he states, his voice uneven and tense as you try to get a read on either brother.

“Uh… yeah, I guess we can-, um,” you stammer out, wondering how things went from good to hell in a matter of minutes. Carmy mutters something about getting your stuff as you try your best to put the pieces together.

“It was uh, nice to meet you, Mikey,” you say softly, as soon as you get your coat on.

“Yeah. You too, sweetheart,” he nods, something distant in his voice. Carmen scoffs at his brother’s usage of the word before tugging on your arm.

You wait a beat, in anticipation of some kind of goodbye between the brothers, but there is none as you follow Carmy out of the bar.

—---------------------------------------

Halloween, again — in this lifetime:

When Carmy comes to, he can hear the faint sounds of an episode of Pasta Grannies in the background, uncertain of what time it is.

“Hey, you. You fell asleep on the couch and I didn’t have the heart to wake you up,” you say, as he begins to sit up. Carmy blinks his eyes a few more times, watching as you make your way from the kitchen island over to the couch, taking a seat at his feet.

“Did you still want to watch a scary movie? You know, in the spirit of the holiday?” you ask him with a soft chuckle.

All Carmy can remember before falling asleep was what he was thinking about: what it would be like if you had met Mikey. It’s something he thinks of often, especially as the two of you grow closer—as your relationship gets more serious—and it’s something he hates that he’ll never be able to give to you.

“This was his favorite holiday,” Carmy manages to get out, the sleep heavy in his voice.

You’re not all that surprised. Carmy’s been on edge lately and you assumed it was because Mikey’s birthday’s coming up. But this… this makes sense too.

“I wish I could’ve met him,” you smile, reaching out for one of his hands.

Carmy nods.

“Yeah. Uh. Yeah. Think he would’ve loved you.”

Maybe a little too much, he thinks to himself.

“You think so?” you ask with a vulnerability and a desire for reassurance that catches Carmy off guard.

He nods with much more confidence this time, offering you a soft, sympathetic smile.

“Yeah, sweetheart. I know so.”

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invinciblerodent · 4 months

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Breakfast in Bed Headcanons

(because why not)

Karlach-

Everything is burnt. To absolute cinders. You cannot reliably tell the difference between the toast and the eggs- not by appearance, taste, or level of crunch. (Well. From the shape, you're fairly sure the leftmost lump of charcoal was once a piece of bread. But you can't really be certain.) But, seeing how she's squirming- or better said, all but bouncing in her seat beside you in nervous excitement, her face split in two by the broadest grin and lit up with love and the sheer joy of finally being able to perform this little act of simple domesticity with you, it's still the best damn meal you've had in your entire life, and you dutifully eat every last crumb.

You don't know how she even achieved this smokey taste in your coffee. But it does taste like her kiss, and you're very happy and eager to compare the two. At length.

Gale-

For him, it's as much an act of love as it is a presentation, a showcase of not only his boundless affection, but also just one of his many skills, and it is -fittingly- flawless. Presented to you on a gorgeous platter is an aesthetically stunning, and downright sinfully indulgent comfort meal, incorporating every single one of your favorite things.

There is also not one vegetable in sight. You can't not eat every last crumb, all but moaning in pleasure at every bite, but it's so heavy and so much that you legitimately want to go straight back to bed afterwards. Good thing that he's beyond happy to join you- both in feeding each other little morsels between kisses, and in spending the next few hours entangled as much in each other as in the blissful languor.

Astarion-

The very thought that it even occurred to him to do this for you is enough to have you all but overcome with emotion. His results are middling at best (oversalted yet underseasoned, somehow slightly burnt and undercooked at the same time- of course, he can't bloody well taste what he's doing), but... not only has he not done this before, but hadn't needed to even think about feeding someone, or actual food in general in over two centuries. The mere fact that everything is at least edible shows that cooking for you is something for which he prepared, something he put infinite care into, and you find yourself having to stop every couple of bites to cradle his face in your hands and pull him in for a kiss, just so you don't start crying straight into your eggs.

He's not pleased with himself (it's a skill at which he's not only not immediately excellent, but also not naturally talented, of course he's unsatisfied) and grumbles a bit about how your reaction is exaggerated, but his big, fanged grin (and playful, teeth-clicking request for his own breakfast) is sweet enough to make up even for the salty dessert.

Lae'zel-

She's... a bit confused on the spirit of a Faerunian breakfast. Which is understandable, Githyanki cuisine is remarkably different from almost everything you can get here- but like in everything she does, she has got the capital letter Spirit and does her absolute best, so she sternly presents you with.... quite a spread. Her skill with the blade -the skill in which she's most confident- is taking center stage in a beautiful display of fruit and veggies with the (nosehair-singingly spicy) Githyanki spread she made, and it's delicious, refreshing, and yeah, she's right, sure to wake you up faster than even caffeine spurted straight into your veins would. But the best part is that from her tired eyes and barely perceptible fidgeting, you can tell she's been up at least an hour, fretting and preparing for this moment.

The pride blooming in her chest at your grateful praise also colors her cheeks a pretty coral pink. That too is the best part. As is waking up to her touch. Really, all parts of the this slow, soft, sweet day with her are the best part.

Wyll-

Wyll is prone to downplaying his skill in the kitchen, but despite what he'd tell anyone who asked, he is fairly competent at a very specific style of cooking. His absolute wheelhouse is comforting, homely meals, prepared from cheap and widely available ingredients that hark back both to his childhood in the lower echelons of Bladur's Gate, and feeding himself however he could in his years in exile. So naturally, the honey-sweet porrige and fresh fruit that he sets down in front of you may be simple, but it is dripping with his love, and presented with a bashfully charming smile, a theatrical bow, and artful poesy comparing you in sweetness to both the honey and the ripe berries.

He also makes a cheeky note (that nets him a playful swat on the arm) about the old adage of the path to the heart leading through one's stomach, and how he'll have to do this much more often as you take his hand, and gently lead him back to bed afterwards. It's much, much too early, and you're much too cozy to think about anything but him.

Shadowheart-

She's fairly competent at cooking, but it's undeniable that her skills are more based on trial and error and built around just getting something warm into your belly than anything more lavish than that. But what she does know how to do, and what she does take some amount of pride in, is how she makes a mean plate of scrambled eggs. After calling her on that particular bluff the previous evening, thinking nothing of it (and with your tongue lodged firmly in your cheek), you didn't expect her to sneak out of bed, and surprise you with a plate while still in her soft nightclothes the next morning. But frankly, even though you don't quite know how these eggs are supposed to be the best ones ever (is it the butter? it's probably the butter), what you are sure of is that she's never looked more beautiful than she does with yesterday's makeup flaked onto her face, a playfully embarrassed, yet devilish half-grin, and the sweet blush across her cheeks as she instructs you to quite literally eat your words.

Her smug preening in your dramatic praise of her unrivalled skill as a domestic goddess is well worth the tiny piece of shell that had escaped her notice and stabs you in the gums. (You choose not to mention it, even teasingly. You're fairly sure you'll take that secret to your grave.)

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softersinned-arc · 2 years

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@deathdeified said: ❛ i have been in the revenge business so long, now that it’s over i don’t know what to do with the rest of my life. ❜ from mae!

"You will live,” Astoria says, and the corners of her mouth curl upward in spite of herself and the topic at hand. “Is there anything else to do?”

The best part of being back in Denerim is the food. She means no offense to Alistair’s cooking, but the last thing they ate on the road was grey and unidentifiable. Fereldan food remains bland and underseasoned, but Eamon’s cook has responded with some gruff acquiescence to Astoria’s cheerful bullying about putting the Antivan spices she’d bought to use. For all she’s come to love her companions, she has a box of Nevarran sweets she’d rather die than share with them, hidden under her pillow. And right now, she’s working on a small basket of blackcurrants, and she holds them out for Mae to share, encouraged more by their discussion than any sudden generosity with what she eats.

“When they brought me word of my godmother’s death, I wept.”

It’s a strange admission, and not one she’s particularly pleased to be making, but the words come out on their own and she doesn’t try to stop them. Beneath them, the Arl’s estate is quiet, everyone either asleep or trying not to rouse the others. Astoria’s bare feet are cold against the rooftop where she’s lounging, and the robe she wears is a bit too thin, but she likes it. It makes her feel at home.

“It wasn’t that I thought she would have changed, or that I regretted her death. It was necessary. I’m not sorry it happened.” She falls silent for a moment, chewing thoughtfully. “It was that I didn’t know what to do with myself now that she was gone. For near a year, the promise of her death was the only thing driving me, and then I suddenly had to actually live. Not just survive, but live. I don’t have advice for you, because frankly, I don’t know how I did it, only that it had to be done, but if you’d like to follow my method — move across the country with little warning or planning and make it your business to irritate the nobility every chance you get.”

She shrugs again, and when she looks over at Mae, there’s real sympathy there, and real understanding. “Mourn them,” she says finally, “as the people you love deserve to be mourned, and then live, when you’re ready. In the meantime — there’s food. There’s the matter of the archdemon, of course,” but what’s an archdemon to introspection and self-discovery? “And you have us, whatever we’re good for. Between the lot of us, we can help you figure it out.”

#deathdeified #deathdeified ( mae cousland )#i. here's the truth from my red lips. ( answers )#(i am vibrating w excitement i love mae very much already fyi)

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djpuppy · 27 days

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IF your ocs were forced to go to a potluck/pitch in food for a party, what would they bring

Omg rhis is such a good question. and sorry for answering so late i forgot 💔 but thank u for sending this ask it's so interesting to think about :-)

Morgan would bring something really expensive and weird but also it tastes really bad like some exclusive caviar and literally no one would eat it especially her cause she hates seafood a lot . but she gets hungry so she goes to the kitchen and makes something as a snack for herself because she doesn't trust anyone else's taste and it ends up being so good everyone wants to try it because she's a good chef. she's so pissed she spent so much money on the expensive stuff and they like her regular cooking

Kai qould probably bring hot chips with an extra spicy dip of some sort and they're so spicy it melts your tongue off and they're from some brands everyone is pretty sure dpn't even exist because he's really good at finding weird snacks

Valya would bring whiskey he doesnt know what a potluck is or cares. if morgan pressures her to bring something nicer she probably brings two bottles of whiskey BUT if valya knew kai was coming she'd bring beer as well cause he likes it

Thao would bring something nice and neutral like fried rice but it's severely underseasoned 💔 on the plus side it goes great with the spicy dip

cass would definitely bring a giant bag of marshmallows or gummies she loves sweet things 😋

1st of all cordelia is not invited because she's great but her cooking is Not but she comes anyway and she doesn't say what she brought just smiles mysteriously and sometimes you can faintly smell something sour but you're not sure where it's coming from and like two days later you find a cauldron filled with a purple bubbling liquid that can dissolve plastic hidden behind furniture. it's also the solution to the potion homework you've been struggling with.

august is not invinted because he sucks so bad And his cooking sucks because he only ever drinks weird sludge potions besides the fact he is also actively plotting something sinister. but if he brought anything he'd bring green cupcakes that are raw inside and filled with acid and he watches everyone eating them like a hawk and smiles uncannily ^_^

#mail #mewtuals #ocs

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snorpington-fizzlebean · 3 years

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Food/Cooking Headcanons

Filbo: A remarkably good home cook, if clumsy. Couldn’t quite make a soup that would make you forgive your father, but maybe a first cousin... or him, for setting the kitchen on fire.

Beffica: Too busy doing hot girl shit to cook, though she’s fairly capable. Knows all the best cafes and restaurants, and loves to eat out so she can peoplewatch. Would post everything to Grumpstagram if it existed yet.

Cromdo: It’s... edible? Probably? Learned to make do with whatever cheap canned stuff he could get his paws on and then just... Never stopped cooking like that.

Wambus: Makes decent food through totally incomprehensible methods. He learned to do it this way on his own because he didn’t want to ask for help 20 years ago, and he’s not changing the recipe now.

Triffany: Could maybe make soup that could make you forgive a sibling. Expert forager - she’s used to making do with whatever she can get in the field. Fresh produce from Wambus’ farm definitely helps.

Gramble: Extremely good cook - could make soup that could make you forgive your father but it could not make him forgive his own parents for forcing him to learn through neglect. Good stuff though!

Wiggle: Has not cooked for herself in 13 years and doesn’t intend to break her streak now.

Lizbert: Lesbian barbecue dad - incredible cooking on a portable grill or over a campfire, completely useless in an actual kitchen. Can achieve things with canned hot dogs and beans you wouldn’t believe.

Eggabell: Cooks wonderfully, producing well-presented, delicious meals that she will tell you went horribly wrong even though you have told her three times it’s fantastic.

Chandlo: Works out like a fiend but eats like a dumpster. Will try to argue that a pizza is healthy because it has some vegetables on it. The most complex thing he can cook is fried rice.

Snorpy: More proficient than you’d think out of necessity, since he knows his way around fire and heat, is very precise, and has a a deep distrust of microwaves and preprocessed food. Unless it’s oreos. Oreos can stay.

Shelda: Underseasons everything, which is impressive given her knowledge of herbs, but she’s got the spirit. Cooks well otherwise, even if the portions are tiny.

Floofty: Triffany once joked that it’s just applied chemistry and now they’re a terrifying baking machine. Can make the best macarons you’ve ever had but will still shove various sandwich components in their mouth and call it a meal.

#bugsnax #filbo fiddlepie #beffica winklesnoot #wambus troubleham #cromdo face #gramble gigglefunny #wiggle wigglebottom #lizbert megafig #shelda woolbag #chandlo funkbun #snorpy fizzlebean #floofty fizzlebean #triffany lottablog #eggabell batternugget #headcanon

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totopopopo · 2 years

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I asked my grandmother if she needed help making dinner and she was like sure do u wanna make guacamole and I was like yes! And okay so this is my white grandmother and her food is………….. underseasoned is putting it mildly but so she goes. “The recipe for guacamole is simple! It’s just a little bit of lemon (but not too much!) and then a dash of garlic and mix! Some people even put salt but I’m not that fancy” and I’m like.. okay grandma……… so I start cutting up the avocados and mixing it all and my Mexican heart is literally breaking into a million more tiny pieces with every passing second and I’m like. Can I please add . . Spices….. and my grandma is like ooooooo okay!! But not too much !!!! So I added like. A tiny tiny tiny bit of chili powder a tiny tiny tiny bit of a few other things and they (my grandma and uncle) were like WOW what a TREAT!!!!! How FLAVORFUL!!!!!! This is so UNIQUE and NEW and TASTEFUL!! and bro I literally still cannot even taste it 😭😭😭😭😭😭😭

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phoenix-before-the-flame · 3 years

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Erza can't cook. She can't bake either. Oh but she likes to THINK she can. And she does try her best and is very meticulous/clean about it. But the food is always either burnt, undercooked or underseasoned. And her attempts at making her own cakes are just depressing. Too dry and she gets icing all over her fingers. (That she licks off but cringes at because she accidentally used salt instead of sugar)

Erza really wants to be able to do certain fun hobbies like cooking, drawing and sewing. She wants to be a craftsy person so bad but the universe looked at her and said

#fairy tail #fairy tail headcanon #her determination is endearing tho lol

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strafethesesinners · 3 years

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all of the preferences section + cooper xx

Yay! Thank you!

🔥 Give us a list of general likes and dislikes, such as colours, textures, music, weather and other stuff!

Likes: gold, yellow, blue, light pink, soft leather, flannel, denim, soft hair, country music, bluegrass, hair metal, 80s and 90s rock & pop, sunshine, dry heat, warm clear nights.

Dislikes: no colors he likes all of them, corduroy, anything slimy, some types of jazz,jam bands, cold weather and snow.

🍊 What is your OC’s favourite meal? Snack? Dessert? Drink? Any reasons behind this besides liking how it tastes?

What is your OC’s most hated food? Stuff they can’t stand to eat or drink?

Cooper’s favorite foods are, bbq, ribs, hot wings, pretty much any Mexican food but especially tacos, steak. For snacks or desserts he likes sour candies (like sour patch kids), hot cheetos, and fruit smoothies or protein smoothies. He’s also addicted to caffeine and drinks way too much coffee.

Cooper likes pretty much any food or drink. He only dislikes food that’s not cooked well or is underseasoned, or really weird food combinations.

🍑 Where is your OC’s favourite place to relax or calm down? Recount a story of their time spent in this place! What makes it so special to them?

Is there anywhere your OC hates to go to? Anywhere that stresses them out or have negative memories of?

Probably the Spread Eagle. Almost all his memories of places in Texas are tinged with bitterness, so he had to find a new favorite spot. The Spread Eagle is where he met most of his Hope County friends (in his main canon and in the expanded OC Universe). He feels naturally more at home in that type of bar and (usually) finds the atmosphere relaxing. Pretty much any of the major Cult locations are stressful for him, with the exception of Seed Ranch.

🧡 Who is your OC’s favourite person? Why is this person the top of their list and have they actually met them (an idol or rolemodel or celeb can be someone’s favourite after all!).

Who does your OC absolutely hate, the one person who they’d sell to Satan for one corn chip? Why do they loathe this person so?

It takes Cooper a long time to admit this but John Seed becomes his favorite person (in his main canon story). After they get to know each other better, Cooper finds John intelligent, funny, and charming and John knows just how to make Cooper feel good about himself. In our Expanded OC Universes Cooper’s favorite people (so far) are: Ryan( @unleashed111), Wes( @risenlucifer), Cat (@goodboiboomer-fc5), Alec( @archetypesinthefog) and Randy & Wren( @nightwingshero). But he’s hoping to make more friends :) (he’s not sure if he likes Lyra yet or not, he’s kind of afraid of her.)

As for who Cooper hates? It’s a toss up between Joseph and Jacob. Joseph for well, everything plus how he treated John. And Jacob because he disagrees with everything Jacob preaches and also Jacob sticks him in a cage and tries to mess with his mind. Oh and causes Cooper’s body to eat some of his muscles which Cooper takes very personally and is extremely upset about.

#OC: Cooper McCoy #oc asks #y'all are going to get tired of him lol #sorry sometimes this blog and thinking about him and John are all that's keeping me sane rn #I hope I didn't forget anyone!#but I probably did cause it's so late

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bomberqueen17 · 4 years

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frijoles refritos

So here’s a recipe. i’m not claiming to any particular “”authenticity”” or wev, this is just a really good recipe for refried beans. I grew up eating these and whenever I’m like “oh i love refried beans” people are like “ew” and then I find out that we’re not talking about the same thing. I am talking about these, not whatever weird shit you found somewhere and are grossed-out by. (Part of it is that I love black beans in all their forms, and sometimes refried beans aren’t black beans? Use black beans. Just-- use black beans.)

I am sure my mother got this recipe out of a book or something, she is a white Dutch Reformed lady from Niskayuna, and is in the D.A.R. and the Mayflower Society and like, pays dues. However, she taught Spanish in a small 99.4% white (as per 2017 census) town in the Upstate NY countryside for many years, so she took her role as, like, Ambassador To The Entire Concept Of Culture very seriously, so who knows where she got this. Probably a book. But it was probably a good book. Oh this is where I’m supposed to tell you a cool story. Well that’s as cool a story as I have, insert sensory details and unnecessary shit as necessary along with affiliate links to the name-brand tools and ingredients I’m using here. Sorry, this is a bring-your-own-shit kinda recipe blog.

Anyway. This is an actual recipe for refried beans. They are possibly my favorite food.

Step 1: Either open a can of plain Goya black beans, or do some black beans ahead in your pressure cooker according to directions. (I think black beans are high pressure at 25 min, something like that; if you wanna be fancy use chicken broth and a bay leaf, and some salt, but like, you also can just use lightly salted water that’s fine. You can probably do this without a pressure cooker but you’re on your own. I bet the Goya package tells you, they know everything.) Drain your beans but not thoroughly, however you got them (maybe you climbed a beanstalk and a giant gave them to you, in which case do whatever he told you), and dump them into a nice high-sided bowl with half a stick of butter. Mash it all with a fork until it’s kind of a paste, should be pretty wet-- add some of the broth or whatever back in if it’s too dry, you want it sloppy. There’s a Zen to this; do not try to get a better tool than the fork, you won’t. Just get the heaviest fork you got and sit there and zone out until the walls of the bowl are entirely covered with mushed beans and hunks of butter. Be as thorough or half-assed as you want. AFAICT it doesn’t actually matter.

Step 2: Dice a white onion finely. (Red is probably OK too.) Melt half a stick of butter in a good heavy skillet, and put the onion in on low and let it go a while until it’s really nice and cooked. You want that onion translucent because it disappears. If you feel kinky, you could dice some garlic too, everyone likes that. Sometimes I just kinda crush some garlic. Anyway put it in a little after the onion or it’s gonna stick.

Step 3: dump the beans in there. Now stir them around, leave them alone, stir them again-- probably they need to cook for like 10-15 min, until they’re starting to get thick and pasty. It’s ok if you wanna add a little more of the liquid back in so it can boil off again just to make sure everything’s super uniform.

Step 4: Once it’s all bubbled through and starting to coalesce, add one of those little cans of tomato paste. How much exactly is gonna depend; I go until it’s all sort of reddish but not too much. My base level is usually 1 smallish onion, 1 stick total of butter (half with onion half with beans), 2 15-oz cans of beans or liiiike 3 finished cups of cooked beans, and like 3 oz of tomato paste.

Taste it; canned beans never need salt but homecooked ones sometimes do. It should taste approximately like heaven. You can probably put adobo in this, I think it’s expected, but I grew up with severely underseasoned food (not only is my mom real white, she also has this disorder where she can’t taste salt properly? I am Genetically Disadvantaged) and so for me if it’s got an onion in it and some garlic it’s probably adequately seasoned. (Also, this is usually a base layer, and you’re gonna put your spices in the meat layer of your dish, so I leave it as-is.)

Serve as the bottom layer of every burrito, kind of the glue that holds all the other ingredients in. Also, eat with a spoon, or serve over rice.

#recipe post #recipes #refried beans

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knifehecker · 4 years

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immediately fell back asleep and had a fucking GREAT flying dream. that was honestly the best dream i’ve had in a while

it started off set around my old middle school. it was like, a potluck situation - all the old students and teachers were there, the teachers all had tables set up near classrooms with different food and drinks. somehow i was like.....flying? there was the impression that i had wings of some sort but i never saw them or consciously moved them, it was more like i was floating several feet above the ground. as i approached one of the food tables i had the distinct thought of “i hope i can still fly when i wake up tomorrow. i REALLY hope this is real ): i’ll have to pray to the faeries tonight” 😔👊

i wandered over to another group of tables where people were mostly giving out like. chicken and rice. and then i came across a whole section just dedicated to STEAK and i was like oh my god i’ve found home. as i was looking trying to decide which i should get, one of the guys behind the table said “here, here you go!” and gave me one of the strips he already had cut and ready, at which point the guy at the table across from his (directly behind me) seemed kind of put off so i was like. ohhh there’s a rivalry there huh. so i grabbed one of his steaks also. i wanted to stick around as i tried them so i could offer them both some nice feedback on their delicious looking steaks but the second guy’s was....not actually that great? it mightve been because It Was A Dream but i couldn’t actually like....taste it......very well.......it was super underseasoned..... so all i could really tell him was “ohhh this is REALLY tender!!” before the dream changed. sorry first guy i wasn’t able to try your steak ):

it transitioned into an INCREDIBLY different dream from here. i was in some sort of like....roman....greek.....street? and people kept bumping into me/each other which kept also prompting everyone to brawl. i was trying to avoid this but something about how the culture in this dream worked meant that you couldn’t apologize without implicitly demeaning your own abilities/reputation, but if no one apologized then a fight was considered the only way to settle a dispute, so. a fight always broke out. which eventually turned into a HUGE brawl that involved everyone in the street. when everything settled down, it turned out that i specifically had punched a pretty important person and was gonna be thrown into some gladiator ring

so im standing in this ring with these huge mesh fences coralling myself and my opponent in. im getting this huge megaphone hype-up about how this guy is some incredible monster of a champion or what have you and then this guy like. just. goes to sleep. he lays down and goes to sleep. and everyone is just “......oh.” including me ):

there’s a slight transition to the top of the arena. there’s a small group of people standing there - i think like. core members of some rebellion/uprising against the current regime? i don’t remember exact details but two of them were talking about this same guy i was fighting, and one says to the other “wait. wouldn’t your abilities make you the PERFECT one to be fighting that guy?” and the other person goes “yeah! :D” with zero self awareness. it was funny at the time. you had to be there. anyway

the dream transitions again? there’s like.... a council of people sitting down at a round table in the middle of this....closed plaza? the table in my mind looks like one of those plastic kiddy ones lol. sitting at the head of this table is like. The Queen. she’s the queen of the last dream setting, and the other people are all delegated leaders or advisors or whatever. meanwhile i’m sitting there and people are all staring at me bc?? aren’t i??? one of the more infamous members of the uprising????? but everyone’s too hesitant to actually say anything bc obviously the queen would know and if she’’s fine with it then it’s not their place to speak. meanwhile im just sitting there bouncing up and down a lil like (:

(that’s all interesting though bc there were a few times when they were speaking to each other [i dont remember what about] where one member or another would speak up like “may i speak out of turn?” “forgive my arrogance but can i interrupt?” and every time she was very gracious and seemed to welcome their disagreement)

so im sitting there and i see another woman outside of the plaza and she’s just. staring inside. and she throws something that BARELY misses the queen. and i barely manage to shout “YOUR MAJESTY, MOVE” before the other lady throws something again and gets the queen right in the back of her chest. and i’m furious trying to launch myself out to fight this woman but she’s already gone. i’m really frustrated because i fly WAY too slowly to catch up with her anyway

i wake up at some point after this. wow that was a lot more dream than i thought first waking up

#long post //#longpost //#the rope technique! it really works!

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jovishark · 4 years

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Sorry yes Alicia and 2 and 3 for both plz!

[For Alicia]

2. Cooking Headcanon

shes not great at cooking. she can follow a recipe to a tee, but when it comes to tastes and spices, she underseasons and uses way too much salt. she also tends to overcook meat and pasta because she loses track of time. its usually best to keep her away from an oven.

3. Sleeping

alicia gets so busy and stressed out that she has trouble sleeping, but tries to correct it with meditation and pills. she gets stressed easily, so she tends to overwork herself, and has problems with it. but when she does sleep, its incredibly lightly, and usually without dreams.

[for Kyle (south park)]

2. Cooking

i dont know that hes great at it without practice, but i think he could be if he Tries. picks up little tricks and recipes from his mother and will make dinner sometimes if hes being more conscious about his health, but generally prefers to order food if hes hanging out with friends.

3. Sleeping

to me, kyles generally an easy sleeper, but he overthinks everything in life to the point of giving himself nightmares. he catastrophizes and makes it all so much worse in his head, to the point where the nightmares make the anxiety worse. but usually its not hard for him to fall asleep.

#ocs #oc: alicia #clandestine crew #sp

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ahelpfulpeach · 4 years

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I was gonna ask All for the numbers but that might be a bit Much I guess so how about odds!

Fuck it I have no self control, you get all of em

1. Sun lesbian or moon lesbian: 🌙 love me a night sky

2. Flannel lesbian or sweater lesbian: flannels! Though I enjoy sweaters as well, I just don't wear them as much cuz they're harder to take off and I overheat easily

3. Curly fry lesbian or waffle fry lesbian: CURLY FRIES

4. Thrift store lesbian or high brow lesbian: thrift store bro

5. 70’s disco lesbian or 90’s grunge lesbian: probably more grunge

6. Fat cat lesbian or hairless cat lesbian: all cats are lovely and deserve my undevided attention

7. Chinese takeout lesbian or pizza delivery lesbian: pizzzaaaaa

8. Big dog lesbian or tiny dog lesbian: all dogs also deserve my undevided attention, but I do have a preference for large dogs

9. MoMA lesbian or metropolitan lesbian: never been to either but I love museums and would enjoy both!!

10. Matte nail lesbian or glossy nail lesbian: glossy! Gimme that glittery nail polish that looks like a galaxy fuck yeah

11. Red lipstick lesbian or dusty rose lesbian: I don't wear lipstick soooo

12. Crop top lesbian or maxi dress lesbian: don't usually wear femme stuff, or women's clothing in general, but I own one maxi dress and it is so soft and a lovely like lakeside scenery

13. Neck kisses lesbian or forehead kisses lesbian: I mean. Both? Both is good. But also neck kisses fuck me up good

14. Fluffy fat cat lesbian or tiny hairless cat lesbian: boooooth. But I do own a big ol fluffy boy who I am trying to keep from getting to fat for his own good

15. Leather jacket lesbian or letterman jacket lesbian: looking to find a good leather jacket

16. Puts too much salt on food lesbian or too much pepper: usually I underseason cuz I worry about over seasoning and then put too little

17. Glitter eyeshadow lesbian or matte eyeshadow lesbian: I do not makeup

18. Flower lesbian or succulent lesbian: both! But I do love me a cute lil succulent

19. Ugly cat print sweater lesbian or jean jacket that looks like it’s been through a war lesbian: also looking for a good jean jacket, wanna get one from a thrift store so it's already broken in a bit

20. Spaghettios lesbian or Kraft dinner lesbian: Mac and cheeeeeese

21. Hot chocolate lesbian or lemonade lesbian: God I love both but I think lemonade edges out hot chocolate by a little bit

22. Champagne lesbian or whiskey lesbian: neither. I will drink a sweet wine though

23. Dark aesthetic lesbian or pastel aesthetic lesbian: I guess closer to pastel cuz I like colors

24. Silk velvet lesbian or crushed velvet lesbian: silk velvet! Crushed velvet is... Unpleasant

25. Ball gown lesbian or tuxedo lesbian: tuxedo

26. Forest lesbian or space lesbian: again, I like both, but probably forest

27. Lennon glasses lesbian or aviators lesbian: I do not own sunglasses, but we'll go with aviators

28. Hestia lesbian or Artemis Lesbian: Artemis!!!

29. Nose piercing lesbian or belly button piercing lesbian: I am a wimp and have no piercings and do not have any real desire to obtain any

30. Electric guitar lesbian or ukulele lesbian: I cannot play either, but both seem like they'd be cool to learn

31. Converse lesbian or doc martens lesbian: I wear more boots but of these two I've only ever owned converse

32. Hayley Kiyoko lesbian or Mary Lambert lesbian: I like a few of both of their songs, but I'll go with Mary

33. Olive Garden lesbian or Chiles lesbian: I think I am contractually obligated to say Olive garden cuz one of my roommates works there.

34. Tarot card lesbian or astrology lesbian: tarot cards are pretty cool

35. Peppermint lesbian or cinnamon lesbian: that depends. For candy and toothpaste and whatnot, peppermint. For baked goods, cinnamon

36. Playing-with-her-hair lesbian or getting-hair-played-with lesbian: I am usually a playing-with-her-hair one but I would love for someone to play with mine

37. Victim of tickle attacks lesbian or tickle attacker lesbian: probably more often the victim but I am both

38. Tiny tattoo lesbian or whole sleeve of tattoos lesbian: I'd love to get a big sleeve but I am, as mentioned before, a wimp

39. Lady and the tramp lesbian or aristocats lesbian: aristocats! It has more fun music

40. Cool Rock collection lesbian or cool leaf collection lesbian: I have a pretty nice little rock collection

41. Art hoe lesbian or music hoe lesbian: neither I think

42. 80’s windbreaker lesbian or 80’s blazer lesbian: I don't think I own either

43. Mom jeans lesbian or skinny jeans lesbian: third category- men's jeans

44. Silver lesbian or gold lesbian: silver

45. Flower crown lesbian or snap back lesbian: I kinda want a snap back but I have not found one I like

46. Annie on my mind lesbian or rubyfruit jungle lesbian: haven't read Annie on my mind, rubyfruit jungle by default!

47. Breakfast club lesbian or princess bride lesbian: haven't seen breakfast club but even if I had princess bride all the way

48. “Wanna cuddle?” Lesbian or surprise hug attack lesbian: depends on who I am with but generally "wanna cuddle?"

49. Jupiter lesbian or Pluto lesbian: PLUTO

50. Make her mixtapes lesbian or sketchbook filled with drawings of her lesbian: mixtapes fuck yeah

#anonymous #anon #ask #thank!!

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kh-imaginings · 5 years

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May I ask for a domestic fluff with the foretellers please?

Ira

not a particularly good cook. it’s not that he burns anything, his food just comes out sorta bland or just underseasoned. poor boy

he’s a pretty tidy dude. has a place for everything. He’s not a neat-freak by any means. he just puts things back when he’s done with them, and doesn’t put off that sort of thing.

Can make going to Ikea into a date. You can run errands, buy storage units, and have a nice meal!

He’s the kinda guy to wake up a minute or two before his alarm. At the very least you know his alarm will not wake you if you don’t want to be woken up too early.

Unfortunately this also means you won’t be able to get morning cuddles unless you wake up before him. He’s usually getting ready or gone to work by the time you wake.

Aced

Very decent cook! When it comes to dishes with meat. Otherwise you’re on your own. The man couldn’t care less about a salad. He’s more a roasted veggie kind of guy. (because you can cook those simultaneously with meat)

Not a very messy guy, but not particularly tidy either. There are areas where stuff in thrown haphazardly, like his desk, closet, laundry bin. otherwise Aced doesn’t own too many things.

He’s also a “rise with the sun” kind of guy. But if you ask him to, he’ll be back after morning training to spend some time with you.

He’d probably offer to wake you up to train with him, not that you’ll take him up on that (5:30 is too early to run!)

Likes going for walks in the night with you. He can relax and hold your hand as much as he pleases. While also doing his patrol.

Invi

You ever see one of those rooms with the bed surrounded by bookshelves? yeah that’s Invi’s room. The chaos is only related to books. There’s so many to be read and she likes being able to switch between texts whenever she wants so books around always at her fingertips.

her home is really cozy, and with you there it’s even cozier.

Isn’t a very messy person. Makes sure to clean at the end of each day. It gives her peace of mind to rest in a clean environment and she can feel refreshed in the morning without guilt of letting chores pile up.

Enjoys cooking with you. Maybe she’s in charge tonight and you wash up, or vice versa. Either way you’re both together.

Thinks that being a room with someone counts as spending time together, even if you’re not directly interacting with one another. It’s intimate to know that another person is there and happy to be with you, and not expecting you to entertain them in some elaborate fashion.

Ava

Your house has a cupboard dedicated to sweets and treats.

Ava is one of those people who’s lazy in the morning. it’s not that she doesn’t like the mornings, they have their moments, but she much prefers staying in bed and sleeping for as long as possible.

Loves cuddling more than anything. If you’re a morning person, you won’t be able to get up as soon as you want. When Ava is holding you, she’s latched on like a koala, so you’ll have to wait a bit before you can get up unless you carry her around with you.

A decent cook, she knows what’s yummy, so you’ll never end up with anything inedible on your table.

She’s not tidy, but she’s not a slob either. In a way you can call her home “organized chaos”.

Gula

Knick-knacks, souvenirs, things he’s found during training are some of the things you’ll notice in his home. They’re displayed on a shelf and if you ask him about it, he’ll even tell you about them. More often than not there’s a story behind them.

Can’t cook anything more complex than ramen or a pancake. unfortunately he burns things or they just don’t come out right. So he’ll need help in the kitchen.

Honestly he likes having you around. Something about having you in charge is easy for him to adapt to. He’s good at following orders, and you’ll end up with a nice meal!

Would love for you to watch him train. Partly so he can show off, and partly to give him a second opinion on his form or something. Anything to spend time with you.

He's kinda tsundere, so he might not tell you outright that he likes spending all this time with you, but you should know that he does. He’s sentimental like that, heck I said he has lots of knick knacks.

#simplydlightfuldestiny #imagines

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chickie-dee · 5 years

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For all three apprentices: what is the pettiest thing they've ever done?

(for the sake of this question we’re just gonna pretend that this is pre-plague so they have all of their memories LSHFLKSHFKLSFH;;;)

“Uh...” Dee nervously clears her throat, glancing away. “I mean...is it really petty if it’s deserved...? Yeah, no, right; stupid question. Ah, I guess the pettiest thing I’ve ever done is whenever my older brother used to tease me growing up, and it was my turn to cook, I’d always overcook and underseason his food on purpose, just...make it real unpleasant to eat, you know? That was obviously really childish of me and I’d never do that now but, I mean, even though I love him, he was such a jerk sometimes, I had to do something.”

“I, uh...I...” York trailed off a bit, face flushing dark red. “...I ssssort of...maybe...would purposefully dog-ear my family’s b-boo-ooks when I was upset....?” By the end of getting it all out, his voice was barely louder than a squeak, trying to hide his face behind the collar of his cloak.

“Oh, oh! Okay, so when I was younger, right? If a customer was ever rude to my Aunt, I’d always make sure to untie something on them before they left the store. Shoelaces? Bag strings? Untied, every time!” Santana seemed to puff up a little with pride. “Harmless, but annoying for sure! Just like they were to Aunt Vivi!”

#fan apprentice dee #fan apprentice york #fan apprentice santana #codemn them for their petty crimes LSHFLKSHF #Anonymous

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phylumhearts · 5 years

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Aeleus and Dilan?

Aeleus:

Favourite thing: I’m trying to stick to canon stuff here so… he is a perfect almost-blank slate with only “big” “pretty decent guy” and “doesn’t talk all that much” written on it upon which I can project damn near anything I like and nobody can tell me I’m wrong Least favourite thing: see above bc it means he doesn’t get to DO anythingFavourite line: there’s literally seven lines to pull from here but fortunately his “but… that boy :(” when even tells him to not go help ven fight an unversed is adorablebrOTP: l reeeally want him to hang out with terra. I feel like they’d get along + I like making them brothers in AUsOTP: *looks at blog title* uhhhhhnOTP: pls stop shipping him with ienzo it’s so creepyRandom headcanon: he’s a competent cook but tends on the bland and underseasoned side. his best food is baked goods and big fry-up breakfasts. also he’s trans. also also he’s autistic.Unpopular opinion: chubby aeleus best aeleus. let him be fatSong: this is absolutely an aeleus/dilan song specifically but it’s still the first to come to mind

youtube

Favourite image: these pictures are the wallpaper on the inside of my brain

Dilan:

Favourite thing: literally everything about him screams “anxious perfectionist” to me and that has made me love him so deeplyLeast favourite thing: they STOLE his earrings and also the fact that he reverts to his bbs appearance when nobody else (necessarily) does makes the mechanics of recompletion a huge headacheFavourite line: I do really like a couple of his five lines but his iconic face journey upon seeing ansem tops them allbrOTP: l want him to be xion’s weird uncle who tells her that she’s allowed to be angry at people and teaches her to cookOTP: they are HUSBANDS and I LOVE THEMnOTP: maybe not so much a notp as a shrugtp but I don’t really get dilan/braig personallyRandom headcanon: his recompletion was rough bc he developed a partial heart as a nobody from the grief of losing his family and it didn’t want to play nice with his old heart so he had a pretty shaky grip on what was and wasn’t real for a while after waking up. also he’s nb.Unpopular opinion: #1 kingdom hearts characterSong: genuinely this is my top dilan song and I will defend that to the end

youtube

Favourite image: not to toot my own horn but this is like the only thing I’ve ever drawn that I really liked when I finished it and I never stopped really liking

#rambles #strong son #mascara son #Anonymous #long post

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haltandcatchfiretothemax · 6 years

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2018 Fun a Day 31/31: Headcanon that in summer of 1995, Haley Clark starts teaching herself how to cook

[CN: food, eating, feelings]

Cameron is there, waiting for Donna to come home for dinner and their nightly work date ('work'), when Haley goes into the kitchen and starts looking through the cabinets and drawers for various pots and pans and utensils. Walking from the dining room to the kitchen, Cameron asks, "Hey. What are you up to, squirt?"

"Do you know how to cook?" Haley asks. Cameron laughs in her face. "I can barely get a cheese egg to turn out right." Haley looks at her sideways. "What's a cheese egg?" Cameron sighs, "It's a breakfast for sad women who can't cook and are trying to drive away their husbands." Haley grins tentatively, "Not really a problem I have, at the moment."

"I wanna learn how to cook," Haley continues. "I mean I love pot stickers and bagel bites but it seems like a good skill to have, and like a cool thing to be able to do for someone else." Cameron reflexively raises an eyebrow and says, "Oh. So who are you trying to impress, then?" When Haley blushes furiously, Cameron immediately regrets making her uncomfortable. "No one," Haley mumbles, running into the pantry. Cameron smiles sympathetically, imagining Haley pining after some kindly, completely oblivious girl in her computer class.

"My dad was really into cooking," Haley says, putting some boxes of spaghetti and cans of tomato paste on the counter. "That's all we really have that I like, kind of know what to do with," she says. "I think he thought cooking was relaxing, and he liked cooking for us. I thought it might be nice to be able to cook for my mom, no one else does." Remembering Donna's reaction the last time Bos cooked for her, Cameron agrees, "Yeah, that would be nice. It's a nice thing to do for anyone you care about," Cameron encourages her.

The spaghetti and canned tomato paste, seasoned with only salt and pepper, are a little lackluster. "But you also didn't burn anything down, or break anything, so that's a win," Cameron says. "There's always tomorrow, you can try again." Frustrated, Haley gripes, "I need directions, or instructions. I looked online but I couldn't find much, I guess people aren't making cooking websites yet." Brow furrowed, Cameron muses, "I guess it would be kind of inconvenient, cooking from a computer. Unless you could print the recipe out. And then you might as well use a recipe you already have. Or a cookbook?"

When Haley can't find any of Donna's old cookbooks (they've been in the garage since Donna moved in back in 1989), she decides to go out and buy one. The following day, she and Cameron embark on a trip to a large bookstore. They get distracted by the magazine and bargain sections, and browse the science fiction and art books, and then finally look through the cooking section.

When a very pretty young woman who works at the store asks Haley if she needs help, Haley panics and laughs nervously and says she's just looking. Cameron is about to tease Haley gently when the employee asks, "How about you, how are you doing? Can I help you with anything?" and Cameron also gets very flustered. "Okay, well I'll be around if you need anything," the girl smiles, before leaving them to go check on other customers.

Haley finds a Southern home cooking cookbook and says, "I think my mom would like this." "Okay, what would you like to eat, though?" Cameron says. Haley thinks about it for a minute and says, "…Mexican food. No contest." They find a cookbook of Mexican and Central American recipes, and then Haley says, "Maybe one more, something like, more general."

The same bookstore employee overhears this as she's walking by, and interrupts and carefully pushes past them and grabs a large hardcover book off the shelf. "This. I promise it won't steer you wrong," she hands it to Haley with a smile. It's a copy of The Joy of Cooking, and it looks vaguely familiar to Haley, like something she might remember her mother looking at in Dallas. "Okay," she nods. "Perfect."

For the next few months, Haley uses her free evenings to attempt to make some of the more complicated dishes, and Cameron is usually there, sometimes she's busy working with Donna, and sometimes she's free to casually assist Haley

Despite her best efforts, Haley ruins a lot of food. She burns a lot of food, and even when it's technically edible, it's usually overcooked and underseasoned. A lot of takeout is ordered, a lot of tears are shed.

One night Donna is helping her scrub a pan that has burnt breadcrumbs stuck to it. "It's okay, monkey," she says. "It's a process, and it takes time to learn how to relax enough to enjoy it." "How do you enjoy trying to not kill people with your incompetence? What if I poison someone?" Haley frets. "That's really the trick," Donna grins at her, "you can't be afraid of it. You have to improvise and try new things as you go, and trust that it will be okay, even if it doesn't look great or like what you expected."

It gets easier after Haley gets into the habit of listening to Gordon's tapes before heading into the kitchen. His voice is soothing, and it's easy to imagine-slash-remember him talking about looking up from her computer one and a while in the kitchen, while making some elaborate meal for her and Joanie and Katie.

By Donna's next birthday, Haley starts to get the hang of it. When Donna gets home that night the table is set with her and Gordon's good china, which she hasn't seen since the early '80s when her parents gave it to them, expensive candlesticks that she bought herself (hashtagged: #independentliving), and flowers that Cameron ran out and bought right before the florist closed for the night.

When Haley serves her mom's famous salad, spaghetti, and veal parmesan, all made from scratch, Donna jokes, "And you're sure you two made this? This isn't a Mrs. Doubtfire type thing, is it?" She looks over at Cameron and says, "You didn't order this from a restaurant and then put it on our plates, did you?" Cameron, black jeans covered in flour and sweater stained with tomato paste, says, "…I resent that."

Donna isn't surprised when everything is delicious, she knows how much effort went into it, but she is caught off guard by how loved she feels that evening. She enjoys the showy dinner party that her friends come to that weekend, but it doesn't come close to how happy she felt just quietly having dinner with her daughter and her 'business' partner.

#there! i did it! 31 posts in 32 days! *collapses onto bed*#TY FOR READING BBYS #it was exhausting but i loved every minute of it #headcanons #headcanon #better living through headcanons!#cameron howe #donna clark #donna emerson #haley clark

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