[ there is a marked difference between when the bots cook versus when other outsiders commandeer the kitchens, choso notes, already picking out the new scents as he approaches the chef of the day.
he's... still in LILITH grey, honestly. fashion is nowhere high enough on choso's priority list this year. ]
Thin.
[ thick cut was blocks, blocks were easy, clumsy, too-big bites worth of a flavour he may or may not want in his mouth.
with hands folding diffidently behind his back, choso ambles forth to watch, eyes flicking over this casual fit (indicative of individual taste, huh) before settling on the arrangement on the counter. ]
[if the outsiders are able to steal some of the cooking areas in the cafeteria. bakugo tends to keep to the everlight dorm's personal kitchen, not wanting to deal with the usual staff in the base mess hall.
dude, get some proper clothes. it's fucking weird seeing choso in that shitty jumper everyone got shoved on like some fucked-up space cadet on day one.]
You look like a damn grayscale.
[bakugo centers the tofu block on the cutting board, then takes to it with speed and precision, turning the entire thing into a "book" of thin-sliced tofu sheets. he could deep fry them, but nah, better stick to the general grill and move onto other options later.
the oil, herbs, and spices are already melting in the skillet on the stove top.]
[ watching bakugo work, choso has found, is a marvel. every motion is made with intent, a certainty in his own actions so unshakable it must only be rooted deep as bedrock. so much practice must have gone into his time with the vegetable knife. ]
[yeah, rawr at the compliment. he noticed choso paid attention to him like that the few times they've interacted, but the blunt compliment is surprising. a little. at least the half-curse is getting a clear view of bakugo's shoulders and arms flexing when he works in the kitchen.
once the tofu's cut and the skillet's ready, he lays two pieces of tofu in the skillet, sending up a hissing bubble as the slices contact hot butter.]
[ welcome to the gun show, front row seats. perhaps someone else would be more subtle about their ogling, but choso has no time for pussyfooting around like that when he can let his admiration sit out on the counter where it can be seen.
there is something about it, see, in the work of power outside of the frame of battle.
with the hiss of the pan, though, choso’s attention shifts entirely to the tofu slices, eyes narrowing in his strange curiosity even as he takes a respectful step away from the sizzling. ]
[at least bakugo's focusing on the cooking and not on choso staring at him while he works. he knows he is? to a degree. but he also knows the guy's a little weird and if he's half curse who isn't even a year old yet, theoretically, is it really going to matter?
... plus he promised not to beat him, for yuji's sake.
and this is the guy who asked about biting people.
at least the pan steals choso's attention so it's not that awkward for too long. bakugo catches the spatula handle, adjusting the tofu slices in the skillet a bit to make sure they have equal coverage. yeah, don't wanna splatter the guy would an oil pop.]
[ another scrap of someone else, quickly filed away like a clandestine note. ‘tofu spicy grilled with tuna or eel’ stuck in the same notebook as yor’s ‘any flavour + dango’ and malkuth’s ‘potato’. ]
It smells good.
[ how fascinating that a simple block of tofu could attain this aroma. despite the hiss and crackle, choso hovers an inch or two closer again, head up while he peers down the length of his nose at the goings-on in the pan.
this was a wildly different kitchen adventure from yuji’s attempts at chocolate. this was… cooking. ]
[choso's making a notebook of people's likes and dislikes. it's a good thing bakugo's had experience with midoriya, who does the same kind of obsessive note taking when it comes to people or things he likes. trivia monger... it's fucking creepy most of the time.]
Duh. I'm not making durian.
[once he judges the one side done, bakugo flips the twin slices, revealing a browned underside that's a bit shiny and definitely crunchy. they don't have a grill press to get the actual grill lines, but whatever. the seasoning in the herbs and spices mix with the oil and elevate the tofu's natural mellow bland.
bakugo's not going to hit choso with a mouthful of hot sauce on first-time cooking. mercifully...]
Spicy.
[yeah, he's not singling out a single flavor. deal with it.]
You've had some time to put shit in your mouth. What do you like?
[ choso's head tilts at mention of 'durian', another term he runs through the old braingoogle machine, another weird nugget to examine later. (why so stinky, why eat if so stinky??) ]
I don't put shit in my mouth. That's unhygienic.
[ on anyone else, this would be a stupid joke. toppling out of choso's mouth like it is, it can be nothing less than face value. ]
I like the leafy greens. Liver. A bitter thing called 'kale'.
[good question. some people say the taste is a lot better than the smell, though since what, 60%? of taste is due to smell, that doesn't sound like it adds up. it's more the spiky death ball fruit from above is the interesting part.
mental note: choso = shoto. incredibly socially awkward and literal.]
Fucking literal...
[he is NOT going to explain the varied nuances of the word "shit" as a curse word descriptor placeholder for things in general. nope. ask someone else.]
Kale is a leafy green. Fitting you'd like liver. Tastes like blood.
[and yeah, the iron-richness is a thing. don't introduce choso to the good friend: iron fish.]
Here.
[bakugo flips the pieces of tofu onto a small plate and passes it to choso, thumb pinning a pair of chopsticks on the side.]
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blastedass
no subject
Date: 4/23/24 00:22 (UTC)he's... still in LILITH grey, honestly. fashion is nowhere high enough on choso's priority list this year. ]
Thin.
[ thick cut was blocks, blocks were easy, clumsy, too-big bites worth of a flavour he may or may not want in his mouth.
with hands folding diffidently behind his back, choso ambles forth to watch, eyes flicking over this casual fit (indicative of individual taste, huh) before settling on the arrangement on the counter. ]
no subject
Date: 4/23/24 00:49 (UTC)dude, get some proper clothes. it's fucking weird seeing choso in that shitty jumper everyone got shoved on like some fucked-up space cadet on day one.]
You look like a damn grayscale.
[bakugo centers the tofu block on the cutting board, then takes to it with speed and precision, turning the entire thing into a "book" of thin-sliced tofu sheets. he could deep fry them, but nah, better stick to the general grill and move onto other options later.
the oil, herbs, and spices are already melting in the skillet on the stove top.]
no subject
Date: 4/23/24 05:19 (UTC)[ watching bakugo work, choso has found, is a marvel. every motion is made with intent, a certainty in his own actions so unshakable it must only be rooted deep as bedrock. so much practice must have gone into his time with the vegetable knife. ]
Is this how you make it normally?
no subject
Date: 4/23/24 05:42 (UTC)[yeah, rawr at the compliment. he noticed choso paid attention to him like that the few times they've interacted, but the blunt compliment is surprising. a little. at least the half-curse is getting a clear view of bakugo's shoulders and arms flexing when he works in the kitchen.
once the tofu's cut and the skillet's ready, he lays two pieces of tofu in the skillet, sending up a hissing bubble as the slices contact hot butter.]
Depends on what I'm making it for.
no subject
Date: 4/23/24 22:23 (UTC)there is something about it, see, in the work of power outside of the frame of battle.
with the hiss of the pan, though, choso’s attention shifts entirely to the tofu slices, eyes narrowing in his strange curiosity even as he takes a respectful step away from the sizzling. ]
Do you have a favourite? Way to make it, I mean.
no subject
Date: 4/23/24 23:12 (UTC)... plus he promised not to beat him, for yuji's sake.
and this is the guy who asked about biting people.
at least the pan steals choso's attention so it's not that awkward for too long. bakugo catches the spatula handle, adjusting the tofu slices in the skillet a bit to make sure they have equal coverage. yeah, don't wanna splatter the guy would an oil pop.]
Spicy grilled with tuna or eel.
no subject
Date: 4/24/24 06:20 (UTC)It smells good.
[ how fascinating that a simple block of tofu could attain this aroma. despite the hiss and crackle, choso hovers an inch or two closer again, head up while he peers down the length of his nose at the goings-on in the pan.
this was a wildly different kitchen adventure from yuji’s attempts at chocolate. this was… cooking. ]
Of all flavours, what do you prefer?
no subject
Date: 4/24/24 23:17 (UTC)Duh. I'm not making durian.
[once he judges the one side done, bakugo flips the twin slices, revealing a browned underside that's a bit shiny and definitely crunchy. they don't have a grill press to get the actual grill lines, but whatever. the seasoning in the herbs and spices mix with the oil and elevate the tofu's natural mellow bland.
bakugo's not going to hit choso with a mouthful of hot sauce on first-time cooking. mercifully...]
Spicy.
[yeah, he's not singling out a single flavor. deal with it.]
You've had some time to put shit in your mouth. What do you like?
no subject
Date: 5/2/24 06:36 (UTC)I don't put shit in my mouth. That's unhygienic.
[ on anyone else, this would be a stupid joke. toppling out of choso's mouth like it is, it can be nothing less than face value. ]
I like the leafy greens. Liver. A bitter thing called 'kale'.
[ aren't those just iron-rich foods... ]
Miso.
no subject
Date: 5/2/24 06:43 (UTC)mental note: choso = shoto. incredibly socially awkward and literal.]
Fucking literal...
[he is NOT going to explain the varied nuances of the word "shit" as a curse word descriptor placeholder for things in general. nope. ask someone else.]
Kale is a leafy green. Fitting you'd like liver. Tastes like blood.
[and yeah, the iron-richness is a thing. don't introduce choso to the good friend: iron fish.]
Here.
[bakugo flips the pieces of tofu onto a small plate and passes it to choso, thumb pinning a pair of chopsticks on the side.]
Wait for it to cool down.