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"ZIM wishes to try your pancakes IMMEDIATELY!" your tiny boyfriend demands from the other room.
you roll your eyes, carrying the plate in from the kitchen. "yes, i heard the first three times." you say, amused despite your words. cooking for ZIM is actually pretty fun, once you figured out his wide range of allergies.
you place the stack of pancakes in front of him, watching his reaction as he takes a bite.
ZIM blinks in surprise. "EH? why did you not tell me these are WAFFLES?" he asks, letting the pancake fall back onto the plate. "GIR has made me waffles before," ZIM adds proudly, pleased to know things.
you also blink in surprise. "no, these are pancakes."
ZIM's stupid bug eyes narrow. "you LIE! I am eating waffles!"
you laugh -not entirely but a little bit unkindly-, sitting down across from him. "no, waffles are more square-shaped, and pancakes are always circles."
"HMPH." ZIM leans back in his seat, crossing his arms. "this displeases me. i know for a FACT that these are WAFFLES."
before you can further explain the differences between the two breakfast foods, ZIM speaks again. "they are INCREDIBLY SIMILAR if not the SAME THING." he insists.
"both urth food items i graciously let you and GIR force me to consume had ONE AND A HALF CUPS OF FLOUR, ONE AND A HALF CUPS OF MILK, ONE EGG-"
wait, what?
"how do you know the recipe for these foods? i thought you didn't cook?" kind of rude he's been making you cook any food he wants to try, but whatever.
ZIM scoffs. "i would never do something as humiliating and demeaning as COOKING... ever again. you, pig-smelly, can cook just fine."
hey, if we ignore the first sentence, that's the closest he's ever been to giving you a compliment! what a nice little boyfriend.
"then how do you know the recipes?"
ZIM raises a brow at you. "i don't."
uh, okay? "then... how are you listing the ingredients?" talking to this idiot bug is literally impossible.
"to know the RECIPE would mean knowing how to PREPARE it. i am simply listing what i can TASTE, love-pig." ZIM huffs. ah, love-pig, one of ZIM's most romantic nicknames for you, yet always placed in the rudest sentences.
"how can you taste flour? it doesn't even have flavor, and it's mixed and cooked in there..."
by now, ZIM's grown quite annoyed with these questions- and you're quite annoyed with having to ask them. "what else am i supposed to be TASTING, hooman, if not the FOOD!" he says loudly/louder than his normal loud.
your voice is raised as well, "ARE YOU TELLING ME THIS PANCAKE TASTES LIKE FLOUR TO YOU?"
ZIM throws his hands in the air. "YES, WHAT DO YOU TASTE?"
"I TASTE PANCAKE!!"
"HOW IS PANCAKE SUPPOSED TO TASTE DIFFERENT THAN WHAT IT'S MADE OF??"
"BECAUSE- wait." you stare at him. ZIM stares back.
you head towards the cabinets and drawers, digging around and pulling out a baked good you hid behind the spices so GIR wouldn't steal it. you return promptly and set it in front of him. "what... would this taste like?"
ZIM sweats nervously at the sight of it. "EH, i wouldn't know, LOVE-PIG! i've never eaten one of these before! GIR most certainly stole these from you last time you purchased them!"
little shit.
"ugh, forget about that for right now. just tell me what this would taste like to you."
ZIM meets your eye for a few moments more, wondering if it's a trap, but goes ahead. "that, i assume with NO PRIOR KNOWLEDGE, would taste like TWO CUPS FLOUR, THREE TEASPOONS BAKING POWER, HALF OF A TEASPOON SALT, THREE-FOURTHS CUP WHITE SUGAR, ONE EGG, ONE CUP OF MILK, and ONE-FOURTHS CUP VEGETABLE OIL." he declares.
still not understanding the strange questions, ZIM looks up at you quizzically. "what would it taste like to YOU?"
"like a muffin." you deadpan.
ZIM's hands curl into fists. "THAT IS A MUFFIN. EVERYTHING THAT I LISTED- THAT'S WHAT A MUFFIN IS!"
you snort, then grab ZIM's gloved hand. "EH!?" this time, you don't respond to his frustration with your own; the fault in communication is a little more clear now.
"humans don't taste any of that stuff." you explain. ZIM's nonexistent brows knit together. "we taste the mixed version of that stuff, it tastes completely different to us."
"and i think you process food that way because of this." with your other hand, you tap on his PAK, and he shivers. forgot that was sensitive- he doesn't actually mind when you touch it, but you still feel rude when his self-preservation instincts kick in at contact with his life-support.
ZIM stares at the pancake on the table, and pokes at it. "... ZIM must admit, he can't understand. what do you taste?"
you pick up a piece of the pancake and eat it. "i taste... sweetness." it's hard to describe what you're tasting when the other party has literally never actually tasted anything before.
"when i eat a pancake, it's soft, and warm. it's sort of wheat-ish and bread-ish. honestly, pancakes don't have too much flavor to them- they're just sweet."
ZIM slumps in his chair miserably. "when you describe pancakes, it sounds POETIC. I WANT TO TASTE THE POETRY!"
you shrug, feeling bad for even bringing this all up in the first place. "and all this time, you only pretended to like my cooking." you say, trying to lighten the mood.
you only realize you're still holding ZIM's hand from across the table when he lets go to come around to your chair.
you watch silently, pleasantly surprised when he initiates the ever-so-rare cuddles by hopping into your lap.
"PITIFUL HOOMAN," we're already off to a great start! "i very much enjoy your cooking. i like the meals you make.
"i suppose i cannot eat them the way you expect, but i appreciate the EFFORT that goes into them!" ZIM says, his antenna bent back and giving away his nervousness despite how confidently he states his words.
that was... softer than you expected. your heart softens, too, and your wrap your arms around the little green dude. "thanks, ZIM. that's... kind of you to say." you choke up.
ZIM huffs. "OF COURSE! the GREAT ZIM is INCREDIBLE at everything he does, including MAKING HIS LOVE-PIG GOOD-CRY."
sure enough, your eyes are leaking. how is it possible that this stupid little alien can effect you like this whilst being absolutely TERRIBLE with words!?
although ZIM doesn't return your hug, he does lean into your shoulder and make the smallest purring-noise. you reach up and pet his antenna, and his purring grows louder, pink eyes squinted with happiness.
you give him a peck on his forehead, a glimmer of mischief in your eyes. "maybe you can't taste sweet, but you can act it."
ZIM cringes. "hngghh. i did not care for that, love-pig."
but he still purrs, and you smile and hold him a little tighter.