#barbecue grill apron
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I found this amazing KCASA KC-AP01 Multi-function Barbecue Grill Master Apron Seasoning Bottle BBQ Tool Holder Organizer with US$7.55,and 14 days return or refund guarantee protect to us. --Newchic
#new chic#grill apron#apron#cooking#grilling#outdoor#barbecue grill apron#apron organizer#organizer apron#home#apron pockets#bbq#apron tool holder#apron grill tool holder#holder#online shopping#shopping online#online store
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I JUST WANNA GRILL FOR GODS SAKE Classic T-Shirt
I JUST WANNA GRILL FOR GODS SAKE
funny quote meme
#i just wanna grill for gods sake#grill#i just wanna grill for gods sake meaning#i just wanna grill for gods sake apron#eh you know kid maybe he will divide us maybe he wont i just wanna grill#i just wanna grill for gods sake meme#bbq#i just want to grill for gods sake#barbecue#ok boomer memes#i just wanna grill#ok boomer#for gods sake#dad memes#cooking#meme
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CH10. Cheque, Please! | The Menu
[2.2K] Eddie Munson x shy fem!reader: a line cook au.
ONE YEAR LATER
The diner was packed.
Tables were full, the large room a buzz of chatter and music, the speakers playing an old sixties bop. It was a familiar sight, one that happened more often than not since Jim sold the diner. The new owner ripped the place apart, down to its old bones before he put his life savings into it.
New floors, new tables and chairs, artwork on the walls that were signed by Argyle, a photo of the whole staff taken and framed by Jonathan, Jim Hopper at the forefront, a wide smile on his face on the last day before his retirement. The bulbs in the neon sign outside had been replaced so it no longer flickered, the green and blue glow of it now announcing the diner’s new name, proud and bright for everyone to see.
Eddie’s Slice Of Chicago.
“Door! Behind!” You yelled out as you entered the kitchen empty plates piled high in your arms and Jonathan took them from you with practised ease.
Steve was on the grill, still hesitant and not as fast as Argyle, but he was flipping burgers quicker than he had last week. His chef whites were brand new, his name badge shiny and his front of house position taken over by Nancy. Everyone was in new uniforms, freshly pressed and a sage green, aprons still without stains and a pocketful of pens that didn’t run out of ink too quickly. Robin was taking orders, laughing with a family from out of town, letting their toddler grab at her finger as she promised them to return soon with their pizzas and shakes. Dustin was helping Max run a large order to a table of backpackers, a border collie under the table at their feet, getting its ears scratched by the new start, Mike.
There was a sign on the staff notice board, up beside the employee of the month, a piece of ripped paper with the words “SIXTY FOUR DAYS SINCE THE LAST FREEZER BREAKDOWN.” The rest of the space was filled with staff photos, polaroids and prints of the group at a fourth of July picnic, a barbecue at Jim’s in the summer, huddled around the kitchens countertops in the winter, drinking from mugs filled with Argyle’s homemade horchata, the frame that held Billy’s scrawled termination letter, an old napkin that held a small conversation in pen.
It felt more like home than ever. Even when Eddie wasn’t there.
Everyone answered to you in his absence, unofficially in charge when the boss wasn’t here. It had taken some getting used to, hell, you’d even tried to pawn off the responsibility to Nancy, or Steve, anyone who’d been at the grill longer than you had. But Nancy was part time, back at college during the week, taking Robin on dates in the evenings and Steve was too busy being trained as a new prep chef to worry about invoices and deliveries.
So you stepped into the role cautiously, softening to the idea when Eddie kissed you something fierce and told you that there wasn’t anyone else he trusted to do the job. His acceptance letter had come the month after taking over the diner. A thick, white envelope that lay heavy on your doormat because he’d finally moved in, sharing your small apartment with you like he did everything else.
Clothes. Jewellery. Books. Records. Food. Kisses.
Vincennes University offered Eddie the chance to do what he hadn’t been able to before. Refining his craft, learning new skills, working in a state of the art kitchen with equipment he’d come home and gush to you about. The diner was doing well enough that tuition wasn’t a worry anymore and suddenly, the long commute into Indianapolis for classes four days a week seemed worth it. Eddie was passing with flying colours, receiving accolades and opportunities at every given moment and when he came home, exhausted but happy, he came home to you.
Bone tired, he’d slip into the apartment, socked feet padding gently over the floorboards, Tupperware full of something delicious to be stacked in the fridge. He’d find you curled up somewhere, a black cat called Basil in the nook of your bent legs. He’d kiss you sweet, he’d kiss you soft, warming you up to a simmer until you forgot how much you’d missed him that day.
It was all worth it.
“Table eighteen wants extra hash browns and booth six needs two pepperoni’s and the Hawkins special, chefs,” you called to Steve as you slapped the orders onto the bar.
“Got it,” Steve and Argyle called back, one a little more nervously than the other but it was okay, ‘cause Eddie was home soon.
Eddie was home soon.
He’d called from a pay phone outside of the school, voice buzzing with excitement, with pride, and yours mirrored his back. He’d be on the train soon, he’d meet you at the apartment, if you could get away early. So you handed your keys to Nancy and she grinned, knowing there was a cause for celebration waiting at home for you. You drove Eddie’s van back along the road, coming into town on the familiar stretch, passing Wayne’s, the trailer park you both visited every Sunday for dinner.
The apartment door was unlocked, dimly lit in the early fall gloom, already smelling like garlic and tomatoes, like fresh bread and the scent of Eddie cologne that lingered on his jacket that hung in the hallway. Eddie’s records were in the shelves by your books, his guitar hanging from a hook in the tiny office room, his shoes on the bench by the door. He’d transformed your kitchen when he’d moved in, a decision that had been all too easy to make. There were pots and pans hanging from the rack, shiny, sharp knives that he was scared of you using without him there, jars and tubs of ingredients stacked high in the fridge and the pantry. There were fresh herbs in planters on the window sill. The radio always played.
The kitchen always felt like the heart of the home.
That’s where you found Eddie, sweater sleeves rolled up and grinning at you from the stove top, a large spoon in hand as he mixed in some fresh rosemary to the pot of sauce. He greeted you with a glass of wine, the cheap stuff that you liked best, catching you in a kiss before you could bring the cup to your lips.
He kissed you soft, kissed you sweet, humming when you laughed into his mouth, his free hand slipping inside of your shirt to ghost his fingers over your ribs.
“Hi,” you whispered. You’d never tire of this. This warmth, this kind of greeting, this feeling of coming home. “Good day?”
Eddie nodded, stealing another kiss, catching the corner of your mouth. He gazed at you, eyes shining with excitement and you could practically feel the buzz in his bones for what he was about to say.
“I got it.”
You blinked, once, before your smile turned into a grin and it stretched wide. You barely had the common sense to place your wine on the countertop before you launched yourself at the boy, your arms wound round his neck as your crushed your face into his curls. Eddie whooped, a joyful thing as he lifted you off your feet and grinned against your throat.
“You got it,” you whispered back to him, everything in you frilled with awe and pride.
“I got it,” he repeated again. His voice sounded thick.
The internship with Chef Emmelie was something that everyone in Eddie’s class was vying for. Eddie had spent an insane amount of time on his application, using you as his own personal taste tester in both work and home. New recipes were concocted, old dishes were reworked and it had all paid off. Eddie had been hand picked to work alongside one of the country’s greats, assisting in setting up a new restaurant, a fine dining establishment that promised to deliver nothing but the best cuisine to the masses. Eddie would help create the menu, and hopefully, maybe, eventually, take over as head chef.
It was another level of surreal.
“I knew you would,” you mumbled into his neck, pulling back only to crush Eddie’s cheeks in the palms of your hands and give him a kiss that ducked his breath away. His lips tasted salty, but perhaps that was your own tears you could taste. Eddie just held onto you tighter, his stew mix bubbling away without any attention. “Where is it? Have they told you where you’re setting up?”
You’d held Eddie’s hand as he clutched his application letter and promised him that no matter where they sent him, you’d follow. The only thing that tied you to Hawkins, was the boy and Basil was easy enough to smuggle into a cat carrier, once you could catch him. Wayne had squashed any hesitancy from Eddie immediately, waving him off and saying that there would be private jets for each of you once he hit the big time as the new celebrity chef. And of course, there was the diner.
Eddie laughed then, a breathy, disbelieving thing and he finally shuffled to settle you onto the small dining table that sat in the corner of the kitchen. He nudged his way in between your legs, sniffling when Basil appeared to wind around his own ankles and the only sounds were the purring of the cat and the simmering of dinner. You held your breath, brows raised, expectant.
London? Dubai? Paris? Los Angeles?
“They wanna set up in Chicago.”
—————
Going back to the city you left was a lot less daunting with Eddie by your side.
Wayne moved out of the trailer park and into your apartment, something that made leaving a little easier for Eddie. He still owned the diner, and promised to stop by at least a few times a month if scheduling around the new restaurant would allow. He’d found a new manager, a woman from town called Joyce who loved to bake and knew enough about taxes and accounting that she didn’t fuck up order and invoices. She loved the place like Eddie did, promised she’d do it proud.
(She met Jim on Sunday in summer and after she served him her famous cherry cheesecake, one date in the park had turned into three, into five and now they were inseparable. They spent most of their time walking around town, visiting farmers and Jim enjoyed his retirement by helping Joyce create new desserts for the diner.)
Eddie’s internship came with an apartment in the suburbs, a small townhouse that was far enough from the hustle of the city that you felt more at home than before. It was less bright, less loud and Basil had a garden to roam in, a bench beside a vegetable patch he could bathe in the sun from.
It had a pantry and old oak floors, a huge window that looked out onto the street that was lined with cherry trees, and a nook in the living room that you liked to read in. You found a job, pretty easily, a vintage bookstore on the edge of town that smelled like coffee and cinnamon, old pages and older stories. It was owned by an old man who let his dog sleep under the front desk, who brought in pastries for breakfast and made you sweet tea in the summer.
The restaurant opened in the spring. Hit headlines the following day, praising the special on the menu made by newcomer chef, Edward Munson. By the summer, the heat was climbing and so was Eddie’s popularity. He was running the restaurant, got to create a new menu every six weeks and the waitlist was booked out until Christmas. He told you he loved you every time you paid him a visit, on your lunch break, a whisper between a kiss hello and goodbye in the kitchen, coy whistles from his staff that he burned pink at.
And when you both drove back to Hawkins for long weekends and holiday stays, you crammed yourselves and Basil into your old apartment with Wayne, packed his freezer full of food and tried to convince him to take in one (maybe two) of the strays from the trailer park to keep him company.
You spent the Fourth of July with the diner crew, in the backyard of Jim and Joyce’s new home, sharing Polaroids and newspaper clippings of the restaurant, of your new home, Eddie’s menu. Steve was in awe but nothing could beat the look of pride on your boyfriend’s face when Steve told him he’d mastered a French omelette. Argyle was running the kitchen, Nancy had been promoted to assistant manager, part time or not, and Robin had helped Jonathan in running a Sunday morning coffee club, where Hawkins residents got to taste test new bean flavours over a pastry breakfast and some town gossip.
Eddie didn’t scowl much, not anymore.
And when you next bumped into Chrissy, you waved at her from under the tuck of Eddie’s arm, diamond ring glinting on your left hand in the sun. She didn’t have much to say to you, not after that.
#eddie munson#eddie munson x reader#eddie munson x you#eddie munson x y/n#eddie munson fic#eddie munson fanfic#eddie munson fanfiction#eddie munson smut#eddie munson x reader smut#eddie munson oneshot#eddie munson drabble#eddie munson imagine#eddie munson blurb#eddie munson fluff
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thinking about barbecues at the hotchner house:(
the whole team is over and jack and henry are running around, aaron making food on the grill ( in one of those short sleeve shirts😏) and you’ve made the snacks and side dishes
:(
omg stopppp 🥺🥺💓💞 tw food
hehe i’ve always envisioned the hotchner house being the “party” house 🥺 — once you, aaron and jack (and maybe any other babies <3) finally outgrow his apartment <333 and when dave doesn’t wanna host (read: the number of bau kiddos is growing and he doesn’t wanna deal with the inevitable mess LOL)
aaron in short sleeves 🤭🤭🥰🥰🥰 his sunglasses perched on his head, he’s squinting due to the sun because he refuses to actually put them on. and maybe he’s even wearing a ‘kiss the chef’ apron you got him as a gag gift as he grills up the burgers, hotdogs, chicken, whatever’s on the menu <333 and omg he’s ridiculously happy grilling too 😭 hehe you find his eyes and he has a boyish grin on his face as he waves a spatula, all — “look at me, i’m being domestic 🫵🏻🤨🥰” 😭<33333
and once aaron’s done, and puts allll the bbq next to your side dishes, he wraps an arm around you, pulls you against him and kisses your temple soooo lovingly, saying something like, “we have quite the spread don’t we?” 🥰 and AH hehe the amount of pride that fills him 🥹🥹 he’s just so happy <3
and then he’s going into the backyard to round up all the kids and to tell the others it’s time to eat 🥰🥰
#let’s talk aaron <333333#aaron hotchner x reader#aaron hotchner#criminal minds#criminal minds x reader#aaron hotchner imagine#criminal minds imagine
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sanji forgets to approve "backup chef"
[ID: One Piece fan comic, post time skip. In the first panel, Sanji is waking up in a bed that's too small for him with a cast on his right foot and his left knee is bandaged up. Both of his legs are dangling down past the foot of the bed, and he's covered in a Ben 10 blanket. Chopper is sitting next to the bed, looking down at Sanji. Sanji says: "What the fuck.", squinting his eye, confused. Chopper says: "Oh hey, you're awake." and Sanji says: "I smell burgers."
In the second panel, Chopper tells him: "I didn't know how long you'd be in here, so Franky said he'd make dinner tonight." while holding up a clipboard. Sanji holds his head up, sweating nervously with his eyes bloodshot and his hair unkempt. Sanji has a thought bubble over his head containing a messy doodle of Franky holding a flamethrower and red text saying: "He's going to fuck it up." imposed over it.
In the third panel, Sanji is zooming away in a wheelchair while pulling his IV drip behind him with his right arm. He says: "Not if I have anything to say about it." Chopper looks over at him, surprised, but continues to sit in his stool holding his clipboard. Sanji is going fast enough to kick up a large dust cloud and some of the papers from Chopper's clipboard have blown out.
In the final panel, Sanji finds Franky cooking four burgers on a barbecue grill pulled out from his crotch area, similar to Franky's centaur function. Franky looks over at Sanji who's leaning on the rail of the upper deck. Franky smiles and says: "Oh hey bro, you're up! I'm making burgers" with a smiley face. He's wearing a dolphin patterned hawaiin shirt and a short kiss the cook apron that cuts off above the crotch. Sanji grips the railing, sweating and looks horrified and yells: "WITH YOUR CROTCH?!" in large red text. /END ID]
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Your opinion isn’t part of the recipe, Sergeant.
Synopsis: After a successful mission, you and the boys decide to spend a day at the park, celebrating with a picnic. Ghost is barbecuing with Price while Soap and Gaz are annoying the living hell out of them. You? You’re looking at the havoc taking place in front of you.
Relationships: 141 x GN!Reader / Simon “Ghost” Riley x GN!Reader (brief and near the end)
Word count: 1,176
Notes:
I’ve had this image in my head for quite a while, and I wanted to put it in writing.
There’s a scene involving a sausage. If any of you filthy minds associate it with anything other than what it really is, I swear to Freud, I’ll grab you by the ear and drag you to the naughty corner.
Platonic and fluffy
Want more?
———————————————————————
It’s amazing how they haven’t ripped each other’s heads off yet.
You all get along so well on missions, that you wonder if it’s the military institution that makes you so well-behaved and orderly. Because what you’re witnessing right now is nothing more than a circus.
You’re sitting on the picnic bench, sipping an ice-cold beer and munching on some thinly sliced carrots you prepared at home. You sprained your ankle on the last mission, and it’s making it difficult for you to participate in anything happening around you. Thank God, you think to yourself.
Soap and Gaz are playing football about twenty metres away from you, which is dangerously close, given the velocity with which they kick the ball to each other. They’ve already hit the table once, launching empty beer cans into the air and shouting “STRIKE!” as if they invented foot bowling. Ghost gave them the death stare and Price politely asked them to keep “the fuck away from anything alive, especially when it’s already injured.”
Ghost is barbecuing. He’s wearing that stupid birthday present you all got him—a tactical vest shaped like an apron with the word “chef” written at the top. It had the same loops a conventional military vest had for attaching pouches for bullets, knives, and walkie-talkies. The loops on that apron, however, were used for organising one’s tools, sauces, and spices while barbecuing. It was a funny gift, and he smiled when he opened it, but you never expected him to wear it. Look at him now, rocking that bad boy as if he was the one who chose it.
Price is standing next to him with a beer and a cigar in his hands. He’s looking at the grill but not touching anything. Ghost clarified that if anyone else touches it, we will eat their fingers along with the sausages. And, even if he didn’t mean the threat, you wouldn’t dare to put his abilities to the test. Especially after seeing what he’s capable of doing at work.
You try to eavesdrop on their conversation, but Soap and Gaz’s shouts drown it out. An F-16 would pass over your head right now, and you’d still hear Soap screaming, “That didn’t count; it was out!”. But, despite the chaos, you can make out some words. They’re reminiscing about the good old days, talking about their first deployment together, their comrades, and only using salt and pepper on steaks.
Price is Ghost’s companion throughout... everything. Whether that’s on a mission or a day out. He can’t seem to bear the entropy that the other two are causing, and he’s not comfortable talking to you yet. Price is as calm and talkative as Ghost desires. Or, perhaps, Price knows what Ghost wants.
Soap and Gaz appear exhausted from football and return to the picnic area. Gaz sits across from you, apologising for being “too sweaty,” and you start laughing. You’ve wiped the blood off of that guy during an enemy attack, and yet, he worries about sweat.
Soap, on the other hand, isn’t much of an etiquette expert. He’s creeping up on the grill, and Ghost threatens to mark him with the spatula if he gets closer. “I’ve already salted the steaks; I don’t need your sweat,” he says.
Soap ignores his warnings and stands there, hands on the sides of his hips, looking at the grill. He gives unsolicited advice about the cooking time and when to flip the pork chops. Ghost tells him his opinion isn’t part of the recipe but turns the pork chops anyway.
Gaz murmurs that he’s hungry, and you offer him a carrot. He makes a disgusted face and asks Ghost—who is taking his sweet time with cooking—when the food will be ready. Ghost then turns to Price, warning him to get a grip of him before he does, and dares Gaz to come close to see for himself. You smirk and nudge him to go, but he shakes his head, telling you he hasn’t gone crazy just yet.
At some point, Ghost becomes distracted by something Price says and leaves the spatula next to the grill. Soap seizes the opportunity and uses the spatula to poke at the meat. Ghost notices him, but as Soap attempts to run away, he catches him by his maw-hawk and draws him closer. Instead of hazing him, he gently touches his shoulder. He explains why pressing on meat while cooking drains it of its juices. Soap crosses his arms in front of his chest and nods like a student.
Price takes up the football and challenges the two sergeants to a game so they’d leave Ghost alone. He says two against himself, and they make a snide remark about his age, saying he smoked an entire cigar and drank five cans of beer. In response, he throws the ball up and shoots it midair with his foot, demonstrating his abilities. Soap and Gaz run after it like dogs playing fetch, and Price joins them.
Ghost turns to face you. He asks if you’re okay, how’s your ankle, and if you’re enjoying the “rabbit food.” You tell him that everything is fine and smile at him. He drapes a towel over his shoulder and gets a fork and knife. He cuts a piece of sausage and hands it to you, whispering not to tell the others. You take the sausage off the fork, thank him, and pop it into your mouth. He looks at you with curiosity and concern as if trying to judge his creation based on your facial expressions.
“It’s delicious, Ghost.” You compliment him, and he puts his hand in his apron pocket, standing taller than before. When you ask him how he made it, he begins reciting every detail of the recipe as if it were a poem he wrote by heart.
He wipes his brow with a towel and whistles with his fingers for the three self-proclaimed MVPs to end their match because the food is ready. The sergeants bolt, and the captain pants in exhaustion. “It’s that fucking cigar,” Gaz says, and Price reminds him that he beat “the living shite” out of both of them in that match.
The four of you sit down and invite Ghost to join. But he refuses, claiming that the grime from the meat is still fresh and now’s the perfect time to clean it off the grill. He encourages you to begin without him.
You start eating, complimenting Ghost’s cooking as you go. He tries to be humble, but he looks so proud of himself. Proud of being able to provide in ways other than giving orders, shouting, pulling triggers, and hurling knives. He enjoys feeding others, even if it means cleaning up afterwards. He might not be full of food, but he’s full of joy, and that faint smile on his face is a dead giveaway, as he cleans the barbecue grill.
———————————————————————
#simon ghost riley x gn!reader#simon ghost riley#captain john price#kyle gaz garrick#john soap mactavish#141 x reader#task force 141 x reader#simon ghost riley x reader#simon ghost riley x you#simon ghost riley x Y/N#simon riley x you#simon riley x reader#simon riley#call of duty#modern warfare 2#cod mwii#cod mw2#cod ghost
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This thought just came to my head and I couldn’t help but giggle.
Imagine Chris invites Leon over to watch football on Sundays, and have a bomb ass barbecue of course; like all dads do on the weekends. But you didn’t really mind, it meant the kids would get off your back for a few hours and you could gossip with Chris’s wife.
The two of them would totally be standing by the grill, bud lights in their hands as they watched the TV outside on the patio, yelling at the players like they could hear them.
They’d hit that signature dad pose. Legs slightly spread apart, standing, arms crossed, you know which one I’m talking about.
Also they’d literally compliment each other on their barbecue and stuff. They’d spend hours just trying to smoke a brisket or something, having the typical bro talk while doing it.
- Anon! 🎀
(Chris looks like a Giants fan. No I will not be elaborating further.)
Literally can't decide which apron Chris would be wearing so here's all the options
With the middle one he'd definitely pat his wife's ass every time she walked by. She'd just stop and stare for a second and he'd point to the apron. She'd just nod and keep walking, use to his bullshit by now.
The wives would be talking about bitchy moms at the PTA as the kids play on the Redfield's giant playset. (Like think about a McDonald's play place and old chuck e. cheese playgrounds together. Just minus the child vomit and mildew smell). They're drinking wine, talking among themselves when they overhear their husbands talking.
"She's a beauty! Doesn't throw fits. Let's me do whatever I need to and I don't even need to put in much effort." You two life your heads, listening to Chris until Leon speaks up.
"Where'd you find her?"
"Street corner!" Chris's wife stands up, about to walk over until Leon's wife grabs her arm and forces her back in the seat.
"Some guy was moving and selling the old girl so I scooped her up and brought her home."
He's talking about the fucking grill...
Chris's wife sighs in relief. Feeling her heart return to her body as she chugs the rest of her wine. She was fully ready to knock some sense into that man...
Eventually Lulu walks over and wants to help her dad cook. He'd grab her little apron and make her stand by the side of the grill on a chair and hand his cheese slices for the burgers. Her apron:
To which Leon looks at Violet and asks her why she doesn't help him grill at home while she's getting one of the barrel juices from the kids cooler.
"You gonna pay me daddy?" He's stunned for a second and stares at her.
"What? Why would I pay you?"
"I was told to never do a job for a man who didn't pay me what I deserved."
"Who told you that?"
"Mommy." Leon looks up at his wife who's sipping her wine. Daring him to say a word. He just ruffles Violets he hair up.
"Good advice. Go play." His wife nods, going back to her conversation while Violet runs off.
I'd imagine the game would be a massive deal to the both of them. Like it's their teams against each other and they have a bet going. The game goes into overtime and eventually Leon's team wins and he's so excited he goes to cheer but sees his two girls are out like a light inside the living room of the house so he just tries keeping in his excitement so the kids can sleep until they finish packing up to go home.
#leon kennedy x reader#resident evil x reader#leon s kennedy x reader#leon kennedy x fem reader#leon s kennedy#chris redfield x reader#chris redfeild x reader#chris redfield x y/n#🌿 ivy writes#🌿 ivy replies#🏘️ domestic life with chris redfield#🏡 domestic life with leon kennedy
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No thirsts from me (yet) but how about some fluff and something to make ya hungry? Cause I’m about to grill and cook up some ribs and briskets and I need to know how my boys from TF141 are helping me and reacting to my papa’s prize winning brisket? 🥺😫
Barbecue sounds good as hell right now and I also wish a Bucee's was nearby:
Price - Would absolutely not want you out there cooking the food alone; he will protect you, even from the grill. Will insist on heating it up for you. Is also in love with your brisket.
Gaz - The one who's helping you the entire time. Taking mental notes because he's unabashedly a foodie and loves to cook. Oh yeah, shit's delicious, darling. ❤️
Soap - The one who's wearing the Shag the Chef apron. Insists on grilling because you prepared the food. The one if you feed him a piece of meat because he's your unofficial taste tester will make it sexual. ALWAYS, bonnie.
Ghost - The bloke's like the dad from A Christmas Story who'll help you cook but has to be kept out of the kitchen or else he'll snack on the food. Gives you some bullshit excuse (with a smirk) about how he had to try another piece because he couldn't quite "savor it the first time". Yes, it's bloody delicious, and yes, he'll eat every fucking bite, too.
#call of duty#call of duty modern warfare#call of duty x reader#call of duty x you#cod x reader#cod x you#task force 141#captain john price#kyle gaz garrick#john soap mctavish#simon ghost riley#john price x reader#kyle gaz garrick x reader#john soap mactavish x reader#simon ghost riley x reader#x black reader#x poc reader#x plus size reader#Graves would be the one to initiate grill-off or something between ya'll and the rest of Shadow Company.#OH! he'd also be a judge too.
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PIZZA TOWER Characters ranked by how good they actually are at making pizza:
Gustavo: 5/10, 6/10 if he really puts his back into it. 9/10 if he’s making chocolate pizza which he doesn’t anymore, since it’s bad for Brick
In theory he SHOULD be the best pizzamaker of the bunch, unlike Peppino he clearly isn’t undergoing ten mental breakdowns per minute and he’s got an actual apron, plus he’s the only one we see delivering pizzas to satisfied customers in-game in the Gnome Forest. But since nothing in the game currently seems to indicate he has a pizza business, I’m going with a headcanon that Gustavo actually specializes in pastries and sweets, which is why he can seemingly keep himself in the Freezer level where all pizzas freeze solid. He does enjoy eating pizza, but Brick eats all the cheese in the house before he can even think about making one for himself.
Mr Stick: 2/10
Mr Stick has been subsisting on cheap takeout for decades now and cannot be trusted near an oven, or near a grill, or near a kitchen period, Peppino just lets him into his to keep him away from the cash register. If you ask him to make a pizza, he will charge a stupidly high amount just for heating up frozen calabrese. Still ranked higher than other characters only because he probably still makes pizza that’s marginally edible, as he definitely won’t want to risk a lawsuit by making you sick.
Pepperman: 8/10 if you really like peppers, 1/10 if you have a pepper allergy or just don’t like them
Pepperman point-blank refuses to be anything other than completely and totally excellent at everything he sets out to do, others not agreeing with his vision of what excellence is (mainly himself) is quite frankly not his problem, and he ESPECIALLY refuses to let himself be outdone by that wretched brute of a chef. Pepperman taught himself pizza-making out of spite purely so he could outdo Peppino, and he’s actually kinda great at it? Spite IS the perennial driving force of most of Pizza Tower’s characters after all. But obviously he doesn’t know, and doesn’t care to learn, about making any kind of pizza that isn’t stuffed full of peppers. If he’s feeling charitable, he might bake you a pizza with his face on it, and then throw a tantrum if you defile it by eating it (only HE can eat his own face).
Vigilante: 1/10.
Vigi’s family business seems to specialize in dairy and I think for the most part he sees pizza as cheap grub for city slickers (getting beat up by Peppino was kind of a wound to his pride), the whole idea just kinda abominable. He’s also a sentient pile of cheese who wears dirty gloves all day, if he did try to make a pizza, it would probably taste like dust or gunpowder or even have bits of him in it. That being said, he throws a MEAN barbecue, if you can talk him into changing his gloves you should get him near a grill immediately.
The Noise: -100/10
Noise is not legally allowed to be in most pizza establishments by court order, and the Domino’s lawsuits were a massive pain to settle as is. The Noise just does not cook, period, but luckily for him he can eat basically anything. He’s paid to advertise food products and NTV has personalized energy drinks, but his main diet consists entirely of tequila and cigarettes 24/7, and dozens of doctors have diagnosed his insides as some kind of freakish medical emergency that should take effect but never will. He’s like Mr Burns, it just all cancels each other out.
Noisette: lmao good luck
Going by her comics in the wiki, Noisette is just completely incapable of making anything that isn’t sweets even when she tries, and the fact that she hangs around The Noise makes it so that she has no sensible parameter whatsoever for what’s edible or what’s gonna give someone explosive diarrhea. She does run a coffee shop with at least some customers in the cast, she’s probably fairly good at baking, but if you ask her to make a pizza, the best you can possibly hope for is that she just makes you unusually large crepes, and hope you don’t hear an ambulance in the distance before eating.
Fake Peppino: ?????
He’s about as good as Peppino, ironically enough, but it’s a 50/50 on whether you enjoy eating his pizza or his pizza enjoys eating you, but hanging around Peppino and the others at minimum has made the third outcome, that is him eating both you and the pizza, statistically less likely.
Pizzahead: 7/10 at first, score gets lower everytime you eat it again
He SELLS decent pizza, is the thing, but obviously he never has to make any of it himself, not when he has all these countless food businesses and mascots and cooks bending to his whim after he enslaved John and took over the tower. “Being good” at making pizza is a laughable concern to him, when he frankly never even has to try, when he can just sleep during your escape sequences while everyone else has to do the hard work. The entirety of the background in Don’t Make a Sound is a testament to his catastrophic carelessness, you literally find boxes saying the monsters were mail ordered by him, and how little consequences matter to him (I don’t buy the idea that he’s driven by any kind of jealously towards Peppino, so much as he just targeted Peppino mainly because he could).
Pizzahead’s pizza is the kind of pizza that you get hooked in at first, and then makes you feel kinda empty or sick afterwards after a point and makes you think you probably should have eaten something else, but you’re still coming back another day or week when you have no energy or money or time to cook or buy a decent meal, so pizza it is again, and it keeps tasting marginally greasier and shittier and more depressing everytime until at some point you can’t smell the damn thing without wanting to vomit, and you swear off pizza entirely until you wind up back there again and, hey, it’s tolerable this time, and then the process begins again, go ahead, eat Pizzahead's product, wageslave, maybe you’ll start liking it again soon enough, he makes all the dollars and you make a dime and that's why you vomit on company time.
Gerome and John: 10/10
Gerome is probably the only character in-game who keeps a clean kitchen considering his job, and John is some kind of weird god with teleporting powers and sub-dimensions tied to him, and also the secret ingredients Gerome has the keys to wind up resurrecting John, but mostly I think it’d be funny if the characters who would be the absolute best at making pizza would also be the ones who would most reasonably never want to have anything to do with pizza ever again. I like to imagine The Tower Brothers having these miracle recipes and magic touch that both Peppino and Pizzahead desperately want, able to make the most unfathomably delicious Anton-Ego-flashback-inducing pizzas ever conceived, pizza that tastes the way you thought it tasted as a kid but actually much better, and nobody will ever realize it and they will never even touch a pizza again after it ruined their lives and home.
Peppino:
5/10. 6/10, if he really puts his back into it.
Yeah, it’s okay, Peppino’s probably an okay chef. Peppino as a chef is kinda like Mario and plumbing: you know it’s what he’s supposed to do, he sells an identity tied up to it, but you never actually see him do it, you see him doing literally everything except his job and you just kinda have to assume that he's good enough at it. Peppino’s pizzas are probably the most normal thing about him, and maybe the only normal thing about him, really.
He does manage to convince the Bosses to not kick his ass in exchange for free pizza, which means said pizza has gotta be at least somewhat tasty, but also, his place is a dump in the middle of nowhere, he can’t afford proper kitchen wear, he scavenges ingredients in the wild without hygiene concerns and getting his greasy hands all over them, he doesn’t have any staff and runs himself ragged doing everything solo, everything he touches tends to be destroyed in some fashion, he has zero patience, and by now he’s gotta have some kind of pizza-related trauma or several hundred after everything that the game put him through.
I kinda like to think Peppino, in spite of everything stacked against him and how fiercely he fought to defend his business, is ultimately a mediocre but decent chef, who happens to be an unstoppably gifted wrecking ball of a fighter (and talented dancer), who really just wants to keep being a chef in peace, and peace is the last thing he ever gets.
#pizza tower#peppino#peppino spaghetti#the noise#pepperman#gustavo and brick#gustavo#noisette#mr stick#the vigilante#headcanon
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(I'm the anon from the headcanons ask,,,)
Stanley stan mars hewdcanonsz,
STANNY STANNY MY BELOVED STANNY
Mm let me see1!2!3
1. This actually canon but, he’s a big broncos fan, even if broncos sucks
2. He entered college on an athletic scholarship and was a quarterback for most of his time in college. I like to think that he majored in marine biology or some aerospace engineering related major and then went on to work for SpaceX.
3. Despite having a drinking problem, he eventually overcame it through therapy and Kyle's help (he found that he only needed Kyle by him side to be happy) but still enjoys one or more beers when they do barbecues
4. However, if he does get drunk, unlike Randy, Stan is a buffoonish and affectionate drunk who always likes to tease Kyle and kiss him until he falls asleep on the couch
5. I LOVE HIM TALL AND WIDE, HE'S A GENTLE GIANT!!!
6. As a child, he had several lego sets and board games (canon) that he later gave to his childr- I mean, Kyle's children
7. He started gaining weight when Kyle's children were born, practically shifting his attention from training to raising the kids. The DILF-cation/j
8. Despite not ending up together with Wendy, they are still good friends and get along better as a couple, Stan loves her but in a platonic way
9. he doesn't like to fight, he prefers to solve everything by talking or ignoring it (unlike Kyle, so he always has to control and calm him down)
10. He would use those goofy aprons when he grills
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Anything involving enemies/rivals in food situations? (competition, insults, maybe even kink discovery/enjoyment, etc.)
idk if this is what u had in mind but heres what i got
Two coworkers who are always trying to outdo each other by leaving better homemade snacks in the break room and bringing better food to potlucks, inadvertently stuffing their other coworkers--and perhaps each other--silly on a semi-regular basis. Especially if they secretly can't get enough of each other's cooking when the other isn't looking.
Two colleagues, one with a big capacity and one with a very small one. The one who can eat more is always teasing the other one for having such a tiny appetite, making them feel pressured to prove themself by eating far more than their tummy can hold.
Two neighbors who both think they have the best grill skills and get weirdly heated about it. One day, while they're both in the yard hosting barbecues, they get so annoyingly competitive that their friends/families get fed up with their nonsense and leave, and the two neighbors realize they've just been left alone with a ton of food.
Two cooks at a restaurant, one bossy and one shy, who are always irritated with each other. Every time the shy one screws up an order, the bossy one tells them to eat it. Every time the bossy one screws up an order, they tell the shy one to eat it. The shy one nervously complies, and by the end of each shift their belly is straining against their apron.
Two coworkers who can't stand each other. They're both excellent cooks, and frequently leave treats in the break room that the other loves. Imagine their surprise when they both discover who's been making those cupcakes they adore. (alternate setup if the workplace isn't appealing: the same scenario but with two people at a party who both brought food)
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BRO I WANT CHUUYA TO FUCK ME SO BAD LIKE LITERALLY (relate)
Obviously relatable, I made a whole presentation and presented it to my besties at a sleepover of all the reasons why I wanted to impregnate this man.
The way I’d go feral for a piece of art of Chuuya butt ass naked, oiled up, wearing nothing but an apron while he’s grilling barbecue is insane. Bonus if he’s wearing one of those “Suck the chef’s dick” apron (I want one they’re so silly).
Would peg the shit out of him 100000/10. Bet he’d whimper 😈
#chuuya x reader#chuuya nakahara x reader#bsd x reader#chuuya smut#chuuya thoughts#featuring the front cover of my shitty google slide#he’s so fine
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Golden Courtyard AU
Elysia, holding up an apron: "Look master Pas, I got you a new apron~"
Kalpas: "Why does it say bbg and not bbq..."
Elysia: "It stands for barbecue grill, obviously. 😇"
Later:
Kalpas, to Pardo while baking: "Why does Eden call Elysia barbecue grill sometimes???"
Pardo: "Meow"
#hi3#elysian realm#kalpas#elysia#pardo#eden#honkai impact#for those confused: bbg can stand for baby girl
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Which dad acts the crankiest about hosting a BBQ but secretly loves it lol?
Lmaoooo this is so hard, I originally went with Curtis but in the middle of writing I had to go with Ransom instead!
Ransom likes a good party, but he isn't exactly the type of guy to want to sit around in the muggy air and mingle with everybody.
So when he finds out that he's been nominated to host the next BBQ he's groaning and whining to you,
"Who the hell thought I'd want to host? I'm not a host!"
You give him a sheepish smile and shrug
"Well.. I may have suggested you. Come on, these guys are your friends! It'll be fun! I'll be right there with you the whole time. The good thing about being the host is that you can kick people out whenever you want."
Ransom huffs and slumps back against his chair. You copy his huff and climb into his lap.
"Please? You'd look so hot grilling away, sipping a beer while in one of those little aprons!" He cracks a smile and tickles you in retaliation for your silliness, because even though he's a grump you know he's still so soft and in love with you!
Okay so when the day of the BBQ comes, he's back to complaining.
"We should have just waited until next Sunday. It's too damn hot out."
"Someone turn the music down, I can't hear myself think!"
"Who just hit me with a water balloon? Hey!"
And poor Ransom doesn't even know how to work the grill, but thankfully one of the other dads offers to help!
"It's not so bad right? I kinda find it relaxing." Andy says as he cracks open a beer and hands it to Ransom.
Your husband hums and takes a big swig.
"I don't know. I better not get anything on this shirt, it's new." He grumbles out, making the other man laugh.
Soon enough Ransom is flipping burgers and hotdogs with ease. He's never cooked for himself in his life honestly, but grilling was kinda fun. And like Andy said, relaxing.
And the clouds starting coming in, cooling down the backyard.
The radio was playing one of his favorite songs and he actually smiled as he watched the kids running around the giant in ground pool.
He was actually enjoying himself.
But when he caught you looking at him with an, I told you so grin, he instantly changed to scowl which made you burst out laughing.
It was no one's business if Ransom offered to host the next barbecue!
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Hey Britt! I hope you’re having a lovely weekend 🥰😘
Did daddy Andy get some sweet gifts off his family for Father’s Day, or was it more of a spiders in the cupboard kind of day?
Hi! Sorry I missed this one regarding Daddy Andy's Father's Day. I am happy to confirm that there were no spiders in the cupboard that day. Baby Girl decided to be nice and save that for the next weekend.
Instead, she and the kids treated the Barber patriarch to breakfast in bed. He woke up to a hearty helping of eggs, bacon, and chocolate chip pancakes - complete with a side of his wife's famous home fries.
And since he didn't want to eat alone, the entire family ended up bringing their plates in the bedroom where they dined while sitting on the floor. It was very sweet, if not a little chaotic. But Andy would have honestly been hard-pressed to name another time when he felt so loved and cherished.
Once everyone was through eating it was, of course, time for gifts. While Andy always makes a point of telling his Barber brood that he doesn't need or want anything except for them, they often prove to have selective hearing. Something they must've gotten from their mother.
This Father's Day, he received a brand new robe embroidered with his initials, some barbecue tools, an apron, and a gourmet spice rub set. And while he loved all of his gifts, he was especially excited to test out the last three items while using the new wood pellet grill and smoker combo he received on his birthday.
And later that evening, Baby Girl treated him to his favorite dessert: key lime pie. Which he found was best enjoyed in bed after a feverish round of lovemaking.
Thanks for the ask!
#cevansbrat007 asks#chris evans#andy barber#chris evans imagines#andy barber imagines#chris evans fanfiction#andy barber fanfiction#chris evans smut#andy barber smut#chris evans x reader#andy barber x reader#chris evans x black!reader#andy barber x black!reader#chris evans x wife!reader#andy barber x wife!reader#the barber family#the barber kids#cevansbrat0007growing pains series
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Omg so I’m back again,, sorry to double send asks I know having a full inbox can be overwhelming but it’s the original anon who found out about König having brown eyes.
I was looking through some more of the loading screens cause I wanted to see what else I could find out about our favorite boys, König is a COLONEL (holy shit????,? That’s the same rank as Alejandro ??¿? SUGAR DADDY KÖNIG?????) and he’s in quite a few loading screens, idk how to unlock the rest but I want them hah :<
And Ghost plays the guitar !! There’s also a cute loading screen with him, Soap, and Alejo, and they’re all holding surf boards so supposedly they can all surf (no idea if the loading screens are even canon but I’m adopting them all as canon in my heart lol). And one where Ghost is barbecuing kebabs :)
I’ve also looked through all the art (that I could find) of König to see if his eyes actually ARE brown, and all of the art in game save for one has his eyes as brown/black. There’s one loading screen where they look kinda blue. I’m not sure the coloring on in-game skins is reliable since they tend not to be consistent even with stuff like uniform colors :/ but anyways I’m sorry for the long message I wanted to do my duty and provide the gremlins with morsels of info about our boys. There’s only like two loading screens of Gaz so I couldn’t get anything we didn’t already know and that makes me kinda sad since I love him :(
There's no fucking way König is a colonel give me the receipts I fucking need them there's no way-
there's so much lore in this I'm?? Domestic dad grilling Ghost, surfer 141/Los Vaqueros, guitar playing Ghost-
I need Ghost in a 'kiss the cook' apron with a barbeque grill while Gaz and Soap fight with water guns in the background and Price dozes in a lawn chair shirtless with his hat over his eyes.
#MAKE IT HAPPEN DEVS#trenches anon#bringing us the real news we all hope for#also BRING US GAZ#I kind of have an idea for a longer Gaz fic MAYBE but...
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