Your OC Makes Dinner

Smiley sits there for a good five minutes, not seeming to move. He's never been more thankful for his paper bag. He picks up a forkful of... he can't tell what it is. It's a dripping glob of who-knows-what. Always smile, he tells himself quietly as he slips the fork up from behind his mask to take a bite. A slow, silent second. Then Smiley jolts. He makes an inhumane sound and shudders.
"It... made me... happy? :)" 

Despite his infamy, Smiley is a good chef. At least, he likes to think so. He's had plenty of opportunities to try it out, after all, since all the people he visits won't be needing their groceries anymore. He fixes up some breakfast for dinner: a pancake with a smiley face cut into it, and two eggs and a slice of bacon that make another smiley face. You can't tell exactly where he's staring, but you feel his eyes watching you intensely, eager for your response.

Amlet stares up at Arsene's meal a little hesitant, but reluctantly takes it to which the pancakes jiggle slightly like they're about to fall over. It feels like Amlet's holding a mountain of pancakes; but despite this, the pancakes give off a heavenly scent which quickly fill Amlet with delight to know that he'll have more than enough of these aromatic.

He then glances at the eggs and his expectations over his meal begin to drop as he notices the small pile of eggs. They remind him of a fish. What more with Amlet's colorblindness, the eggs look tasteless like the life has been sucked out of them.

Amlet begins his meal with the pancakes, not wanting to ruins his taste buds with the unpleasing eggs. He lathers them with syrup and slowly strikes them down with his fork. They break apart with ease as more steam beings to pile out. Putting the fork in his mouth. Bliss. Amlet's face beams feeling as though he has been lied to. The pancake's scent did not do enough justice for the pancakes in front of him. He begins to eat faster and faster, but still savoring each bit for as longs as it lasts until Amlet finally pokes his fork at his plate a final time to only fill with disappointment. He's ran out of pancakes and has instead ran his fork into the eggs- the dull, discolored, egg. He examines the food on his fork and feels like he's poked the fish head of his fish shaped eggs. Sighing, Amlet closes his eyes and slowly puts the fork in his mouth. He begins chewing and waits for a displeasing taste, but moments after the first bite there's nothing. Nothing tastes bad, but he wouldn't call it good. It's alright. Amlet fills with indifference as he finishes of his plate and hands it back to Arsene.

"The eggs were okay, they weren't great or anything, but I was hoping you could make me some more pancakes like right now. Like a lot of them, right now. Please."

Amlet's colorblind, he doesn't feel he would be able to cook a proper meal knowing he might not great fresh ingredients and so he decides on a simple and healthy smoothie. "How can someone mess up a smoothie?" He thought, looking into the refrigerator he pulls out the milk, strawberries, blueberries, bananas, and what he believes are cucumbers.

Believes.

He grabbed the pickles.

They're were no cucumbers in sight.

He pours some milk into the blender and proceeds to put a couple of bananas in as well. Next goes the strawberries and blueberries. Finally, Amlet takes two small 'cucumbers', puts them in the blender, turns the blender on and gives the smoothie a few seconds until the contents were evenly blended.

Pouring the smoothie into a cup he hands it away.

"How is it?" He asks sternly, expecting a good response because "How can someone mess up a smoothie?"

@Keistew Okse takes the drink from his hands with hesitant excitement. She brings the glass to her lips, parts them slightly, and takes a long sip of the smoothie. She doesn't move from her position for several seconds. When she does, there's tears in her eyes, and a smoothie mustache on her upper lip. 

"It's good," She says in a half-whisper, "It's good." staring down at the once delightful treat turned backstabbing, tongue-slaughtering pickle special supreme. The glass is so full. There's so much smoothie left in her hands, and she finds she cannot bring herself to waste it. It's not all that bad, right? She brings it, once again, to her mouth.

...

No, it really is that bad. She is literally drinking a pickle. It takes every ounce of self control inside of her not to squeeze up her face in a look of pure disgust. She takes another sip. Just as terrible as the last. It feels like she's already drank gallons of the stuff, but the glass looks just as full as when she got it. Eventually, though, she finds she can't stand it.

"Did you... Use a pickle? In this? This smoothie?"

Okse rips open a pack of ramen, letting the painfully loud crinkling echo through her tiny, but thankfully empty, house. She pops the ramen in boiling water, and reaches for her itty bitty iPhone 4. It's 2:18 in the morning for her, which is unfortunately only 12:18 for her internet friend, Takk. Takk very much enjoys talking, and, lucky for her, Okse very much enjoys listening. She goes on and on about her strange name's backstory, while she listens, smiling and nodding. Of course, most of the time, she can't even see her smiling and nodding, since they set their phones down on their table when they call. She's fascinated by this one new addition to how people interact, how, when making friends on the internet, it doesn't quite matter if you can see them or not. It's about that immediate verbal connection- like if they talk just like you, in all lowercase, or talk all fancy schmancy with capitalization and periods. You can usually tell people's ages when they speak on the internet, too. If someone talks with correct grammar, it either means they're old, below the age of 11, or roleplaying. When someone talks in all lowercase, they're a teenager. And, finally, if you mess your their, there, and they'res up then you're just plain stupi-

Oh, holy heck on a biscuit! She forgot she was making ramen. Now it's all soggy and gross. Hope you like chicken flavoring with your mush.

The teacher examines the three black disks given to him. These are... pancakes? He glances at Crowley when he's told there's no maple syrup, though he's convinced that would do little to nothing for him. If I can survive my kids' cooking, I can survive this, he assures himself as he grabs his fork. He goes to cut a slice, but the outside is so burnt that it's formed a kind of hard shell. Alcott narrows his eyes and pokes his food a few times, hearing an unwanted CLANK with each tap. A soft sigh escapes his lips, and he leans down to rip a bite out of the dish.
He's good at keeping a stoic expression, but it's clear he's not doing well by the sound of loud crunches. Hard outside... Liquidy inside? How the hell...? Nevertheless, Alcott manages to swallow the shrapnel. He dabs his mouth with a napkin then goes, "Leave the cooking to your partner."

Alcott sets down a large bowl of his signature dish: tuna casserole. It smells and looks good. Besides it is a tray of freshly baked chocolate chip cookies. He looks pretty proud. "You've got to know how to cook a few things when you're feeding five kids and a picky (ex)wife," he chuckles while handing you your drink.

Blush curiously studies the strange, delicate shelled food. She doesn't really have a huge need to eat, as it's completely optional to a demon, so it's only natural she wouldn't know many foods. "Ah.. Thank you..?" She says, unknowing if she really is grateful for this odd looking treat. 

Taking in a breath of courage, she lifts the foreign food to her mouth and takes a small bite. A couple crunches later, she takes another, and then another.. Before realizing it, the whole taco was devoured, and she was left dumbfounded. It was definitely smaller than it looked. "Well, it was actually a lot more tasty than I initially thought. Thank you very much!" She says, lighting up a little with satisfaction and relief.

"I may not eat very often, but if I do then this is usually it.." Blush says taking out a small box of macarons. There's mainly chocolate flavored ones, but there's a few rose and red velvet as well. "I made them myself.. I know I'm no professional pastry chef but I hope they're good.." She says, hopefully sitting idly waiting for their response.

--Claim!!--

"Those are some funny lil' things, don't get to eat like this very often.. Thank you kindly miss!, i can't eat chocolate, _{m' allergic or somethin}, so i'll just hunker down on this ol' red one here if y'don't mind" Jericho sinks his teeth into the macaron, and grimaces somewhat at the unfamiliar sweetness which bombards his tastebuds, but ultimately, finds it quite delicious. "Gosh ma'am, they're are deadly sweet, ain't they?, you got a recipe for these?, i'd love ta' try and whip some up for my boys back home. 

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Jericho cheerily props the plate down on the table infront of [Name]. dusting his hands off, he takes a seat beside them

"now here we got some salt-cured rabbit, i done killed fresh this mornin' with pinto beans, and a dash of molasses, go on and eat up, can't have a guest goin' hungry!"