#˖ ✧ out of the cookbook » ( musings )

[ahogechef]

What is up!! This is a sideblog for a talentswap Kaede Akamatsu, who is the Ultimate Chef, written by Kay! (As this is a sideblog, I follow back from @ahogedetective ! )

♡ Crossover/Multiship/OC/Duplicate Friendly!

♡ Written by Kay! (27, female, she/her!)

♡ Other blogs: My Shuichi Saihara blog: !

>> || About! || Rules! || Verses/Aus! (WIP!!!) || <<

( Picture source: ! )

[weirdgenetic-fuckup]

dave mustaine realizing how strong he is compared to the reader, and always displays this during sex, especially while fucking her against the wall or using his big hands to do whatever he wants with her body

A/n: I can’t even count how many times I tried writing this and just couldn’t think of anything, I still feel like I could’ve written it better but I hope you like it nonetheless <3

Warnings: smut, size kink, if you think I missed anything let me know otherwise enjoy!

It all started when you needed help opening a jar.

It was jam, the lid was stuck and you were tired. Dave was home so after a few seconds of trying you gave up and called him over for help. He opened it with ease and you moved on with your day, but Dave didn't.

He grew this obsession with proving how weak you were, or rather how strong he was. Can't reach the top shelf? Don't worry, Dave's right around the corner to lift you up. Need help carrying the groceries in? Not a problem, he can take them with ease, carrying more bags in fewer trips.

You didn't mind it, he was always looking for more ways to help you so why would it be a bad thing?

You were making dinner and Dave was sitting not far away watching you. He wasn't saying anything, not talking about his day or asking about yours. He was just staring at you with a wonky smile.

You were looking at the ingredients. "Hey, Dave, can you get the milk for me, please?" You asked, not taking your eyes off the cookbook.

Dave got up and got the milk, bringing it over to you, though he didn't go back to his seat. Instead he wrapped his arms around you and rested his head on your shoulder. "You're adorable, you know that?" He asked, placing a few soft kisses against your neck.

You paused for a moment and looked at him. "Yeah? Why's that?"

Dave gave your waist a gentle squeeze. He hid his face in the crook of your neck a moment, deeply inhaling your scent. “Your so tiny.” He said. “Could just pick you up and fuck you wherever I want.”

Your cheeks flushed a deep red and you tried to stay focused on the food.

A few minutes passed and Dave didn’t let go of you, still holding you close, kissing you occasionally.

“Think about it.” He said suddenly. “I could fold you in half right now, pin you against the wall and have my way with you.” You couldn’t deny the heat pooling at your cunt, the way your thighs pushed together in search of any amount of friction. “You’d like that, wouldn’t you? Being used like my own fucktoy?”

You took a deep breath in an attempt to clear your mind. You took the knife off the counter and started cutting a carrot before Dave stopped you and took the knife from your hand. “Enough with the hypothetical.” You turned your head to look at him and in an instant his lips were on yours, kissing, biting, tongue slipping past your lips to explore your mouth.

He picked you up just like he said he would and carried you to the bedroom, ignoring your weak attempts to protest. He got you out of your clothes, quite literally ripping your panties off and tossing them off somewhere.

He kissed down your body, starting at your neck and working his way down, playing close attention to your reactions, which spots were most sensitive, what felt best for you.

You twitched and moaned underneath him, heavy breaths leaving you as his big hands trailed over you. He dwarfed you. Everything about him made you small. From his hands around your neck to that bulge in your gut every time he has you to himself.

He moved back over you, kissing you sweetly before getting out of his own clothes.

“You’re so perfect, sweetheart.” He said as he crawled back over you. “All hot and ready for me, hm?” You let out a soft whine and Dave took it as an invitation to spread your legs.

He had a hand on either of your knees, slowly moving them up to your chest. “Look at that.” He mused. “Don’t even need any prep, hm?” You smiled proudly up at him. "Good girl." He mused as he lined himself up and pushed into you.

You let out a drawn out moan at the feeling, how he stretched you out so good. He gave you a second to adjust to his girth before he started rolling his hips to meet yours.

"Oh, fuck, Dave, just like that." You moaned out. Your hands moved to his back, lightly clawing at his shoulders. He let out a low growl as his hips snapped into yours.

You couldn’t take your mind off of his dick and how each vein dragged against your gummy walls. “Fuck, you’re so small, so fucking tight.” He groaned, leaning down and biting your earlobe.

He sat back, holding your hips in place on his lap, your legs still hooked over his shoulders as he pounded into you.

Your eyes crossed and your tongue lulled out, your body bouncing up and down the bed with every thrust.

Dave’s hand came down hard on your ass and you squealed in pleasure. His hand moved from your hip to your abdomen, he pushed down and you gasped softly. “Look at that, sweetheart,” he mused, “can see just how big I am inside you.” You looked down, eyes narrowing on where a bulge came and went, showing just how deep he was hitting inside you.

He kept pushing on your stomach and your eyes rolled back, a loud moan ripping from your throat. “Oh, fuck, squeezing me so good.” His own head fell back.

Dave’s movements stopped for a moment and he wrapped his arms around you. He lifted you up and carried you off the bed. “Look at that, I can fuck my perfect doll just like this, huh?” He asked, still snapping his hips into your as he stood.

You clung to him like a koala, moaning out in his ear how good he made you feel. “Davie-! Ngh, Davie, please.” His hands gripped your hips, guiding you on his dick.

“Please, what, sweetheart? ‘Oh, please, daddy, make me cum on your big cock’?” He asked in a mocking tone.

“Yes, daddy, please!” You whined. Your mind was racing with his cock, the bulge it made. His big hands over your body, carrying most of your weight, the way he bounced you on his length.

“Be good for me then and cum.” You didn’t need to be told twice, his words resonating in your body and pushing you over the edge. “Oh-oh, fuck!” Dave groaned. “Oh, god, you feel so good when you cum.” With a few more thrusts he was spilling into you, groaning in your ear.

He sat back on the bed and lifted you off of him, watching his own cum drip out of you. “Hmph, fuck.” You breathed.

“Don’t think we’re done yet, do you?” You chuckled and shook your head. “Good girl,” Dave hummed, “not done until my doll can’t walk.” He pushed back into you, your mind racing all over again.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

I just wanted to show this bc I thought it was funny

[steviebbboi]

The Games We Play (Enforcer!Curtisx Reader)

Word count: 1,593~

Summary: Curtis and you never seem to be fully done. But did you want it to be over?

Disclaimer: ***I don't give any permission for this to be reposted anywhere! Pls do not steal work, plagiarism isn't cute*** Reblogs help writers reach more readers who may also enjoy our work. As you like, kindly reblog~ <3

Warnings: 18+ for implied smut (v. mild), exes/lovers trope (what are they -- idk but she's his), mentions of gang activity/mob life, mob organization, sorta soft!dark but not in a so-cute way, angst, toxic relationship vibes, possessive Curtis, Reader is kinda stuck in relationship. This fic's unbeta'd and likely has some writing errors (I'll fix it when I get to it)! There isn't lots of backstory to this one so infer away AKA frustrate yourself with some mild angst, and HEA is depending on how you see it!

A/N: Hello laddies~ it's been some time since I've posted something. Hoping this little angsty fic would tide some folx over as I work on my existing fics! Don't hate me too much, pls 🫣 the writing muse is slowly making its way back to me. This is written for the lovely Missy @saiyanprincessswanie and her writing challenge! Hope you enjoy, lovely <3

Cuddling your jacket closer to your chest, the dirt road ahead was only covered by a dingy and dusty orange road lamp that barely illuminated the area. 

Chills ran through your body despite the warmth of your jacket and you clutched your arms together even tighter for added warmth. You knew better than to trust your friends to take you home the moment that they pre-gamed earlier that night— but they practically begged you to go out and you knew that it’d been way too long since you’ve had a girls night. 

Despite your mild desire to go out, you knew that it would’ve been best to stay in since the girls kept griping about hooking up that night with the first cute guy that they would see when they got to the crowded bar. 

As always, they convinced you that they wouldn’t abandon you at the bar, and like always, you believe them. Guess what happened.

Jessica disappeared the moment she got inside. Amber stayed around for a bit until she gravitated to grinding on a tall blonde on the dance floor. And Jenny was already making out with one of the bartenders in the bathroom. 

Annoyed, mildly tipsy, and frustrated, you decided to just head home knowing that they were likely not going to be seeing you again that night and were likely to call tomorrow profusely apologizing, yet gaslighting you into how much of a prude you were or that you needed to get out more. 

It’s not that you’re a prude- it’s just that you’ve lived that life a long time ago. And you were done with it. You enjoyed nights in with a cup of hot tea while marathoning your favorite movies. You liked to craft at home or bake a new recipe from that library cookbook that you didn’t get the chance to return yet. 

The girl's criticisms still got to you though. Even though you knew that you were confident in your own ability to have fun and engage with the world— you couldn’t help but feel absolutely bored and vanilla. 

If they only knew how untrue that really was…you made a commitment to yourself to live an abundant life once you left the world prior to this. But you couldn’t help but feel so alone. 

You shivered once more as your boots sounded against the graveled dirt with every step you took forward. Cars would intermittently pass you with their high beam lights, and you felt safe enough considering it’s just the local street. 

Seeing the Train Six Road sign up ahead, you tensed before taking a deep breath and continuing to move forward firmly. This part of town was unfortunately all too familiar, and you didn’t want to be in this neighborhood any longer that you needed to be. Especially considering the fact that he may be patrolling tonight. 

It was like your mind manifested in real time your absolute misery as you heard the incoming car behind you. At first, you didn’t give it any thought— figured that it was another cab passing through. But once you noticed the headlight overcast growing as it got closer, and heard the car wheels start to slow into a gentle stop, you knew it was him. 

You cursed under your breath as you didn’t even last two minutes until he caught wind of your presence (they had eyes everywhere). You also didn’t proceed to stop at all and continued to ignore him until he softly called out, “Get in, trouble. You’ll freeze out here.”

Releasing a loud scoff, you call out without looking back, “I told you to stop calling me that. And I was fine until you showed up, just pass by- I’m almost home.” 

You continued walking and didn’t hear a response. A spark of curiosity fluttered as you heard the car door shut abruptly and footsteps moving towards you to match your pace until a bodied presence was next to yours. 

Huffing out your frustration, you stopped to turn and face Curtis while crossing your arms. 

“Curtis, seriously? Get back in your car!” 

Completely ignoring the evident anger and annoyance that filled the cadence of your comment, Curtis merely smirked at you in response. “Dove, you know that’s not happening. Not sure why you think that.” 

Releasing out another scoff, you rolled your eyes at the other despised nickname that rolled out of his annoyingly plump lips. 

“I’m not your dove. Haven’t been for some time, or do you not recall?” Snark couldn’t be more palpable in your voice, albeit, the nerves trembled as they usually did around him. It’s like your body couldn’t help but react to him every time. You told yourself it’s the brutal combination of a cold winter and improper outside attire. 

Curtis’ smirk persisted and you hated him for it, “C’mon, dove— we gonna play this game again tonight?” 

You took in a deep breath and the frustration seemed to exhale out with your breath against the cold air. Your sigh echoed in the silent and dark trees around with a heaviness that came with the past. 

Even though you and Curtis haven’t been in a relationship for a few months, it seems that you couldn’t completely shake the bastard. And you’d be lying to yourself if you didn’t still have feelings for him, but you didn’t want them. 

Your relationship together was loving, intense, caring, sexy…but it was also possessive and weighed heavy on your heart. Curtis’ role as your brother’s enforcer always brought in constant arguments and a coldness that you were desperate to stay away from. 

Andy may be your brother, and you love him, but the blind loyalty that Curtis has to him as his second— to do the things that he does, it’s not something that you want a part of your life forever.

At first, Curtis would just harmlessly flirt and tease you. It would be your little game for years, until he saved you from an incoming assassination attempt that was for Andy. Since then, Andy deemed Curtis to be your protector as an additional duty. The beauty of time and a little magic sparked something like a kinship between you two and the rest unfolded naturally. It was as if it was all meant to happen in the first place. An eventuality. 

But the constant possessive behavior- his tendencies to be controlling, and to know that he’d go out every night to seek retribution for your brother's organization…cause he liked it and he was good at it…had you forced with the realization that you’d never leave the life with Curtis still in yours.  

And therein lies you and Curtis, seeking to drift in and out together but never seemingly apart for too long. Of course, any opportunities to even move on from him were a lost cause. 

You’ll never forget leaving a dinner date a few weeks after you and Curtis broke up— only to come out and see Curtis resting against the car door, outwardly casual and relaxed, but the storm swirling in his gaze told a different story. It was hazed with an intensity that left your date stumbling away from you suddenly with muffled excuses of “leaving the stove on”. Meanwhile, Curtis’ threatening gaze wouldn’t leave the man’s figure until he got into his car and drove off. 

At first, you were angry. Rageful, even. You’d shout at him and push him, and Curtis would just take it. He’d capture your hands in his eventually and his blue eyes stormed over your presence with a light that wasn’t present moments before. It was that light that always had you accepting him back into your life. 

When you meet a person who would do anything to protect you, want you, and need you— you wonder why you’d ever give that up in the first place. 

Looking up into his mirthful gaze now under the ambient light, you felt the annoyance take a step back once again as that light seemed to shine brightly as you. It illuminated those spots in your heart that felt dark and alone. With him, you were never lonely. 

That’s what had you notably huff and pout while turning back around to get into the car. Curtis reserved his smirk and kept his ‘told you so’s’ to himself as he filed in right behind you. The car ride to your place was quiet until you realized that he bypassed your street completely and went down the dirt road to his place. 

“Curtis, why do you always do this? I trust you for one minute and then you pull shit like this? We are not together anymore. Why are you always testing this?” You didn’t even turn to look at him as you spoke resolutely. A frustrated kind of numbness settled in as he turned off the car to address you, “Dove, you can keep pretending you hate me, but I see it in your eyes. You’re mine—even if you won’t admit it."

His words filled you with a familiar dread and yet also toned into that dangerous excitement that only seemed to build as your eyes met his serious gaze. Hearing Curtis speak so candidly about you filled those spots in your heart that felt empty with longing. 

And that’s what made you go into his house. Eat some dinner that he made you. And later, end up naked in his bed while he cuddled you to his chest intimately. It just never seemed to end.

The thing is, did you want it to? 

A/N2: Not sure if there will be more of these two -- just a little dark angsty vibes, but I imagine they may have a HEA after a goooood long and healthy talk...well, if Curtis is even capable of that 🤷🏻‍♀️

Main Masterlist

Curtis Everett Masterlist

Join My Tag List!

****if you wanna be notified on my work (and next updates)!

Tag(s): @inlovewiththefictionalcharacters @mercurial-chuckles @caplanbuckybarnes @autumnrose40

@jaqui-has-a-conspiracy-theory @rogersbarber @blushingrn @alexxavicry

@mrsevans90 @casey1-2007

[buckiverse]

Sweet Surprises

inspired by eternal attachment :3

contents: fluff, suggestive if you squint, angst if you squint. friends-to-lovers vibe. confession *heart eyes*. 

summary: you tried to surprise zayne for his birthday but it failed. 

word count: 1.4k

notes: I havent written in so long, forgive any typos

______________________________________________________________

★It was the day before Zayne’s birthday, and your procrastination caught up to you as you stared at various ingredients. “Vanilla…chocolate…strawberry… maybe I bought too many base flavors,” you muttered. You sorted through the assortment of toppings—macaroons, blueberries, even edible flowers. Who knew you could flavor a cake with flowers? 

★You and Zayne had often talked about his love for sweets, but nothing compared to the day you both stood before the macaroon display at your favorite cafe. 

“What flavor are you gonna get, Zayne?” you asked, already eyeing a few of your favorites. 

He grinned slightly, “what if we get them all?”

You laughed, shaking your head. “Get them all? And put them where??”

“In my fridge, of course,” he replied as if it was the most obvious solution in the world.

“Even so, we can’t finish all these by ourselves. How about we pick a few.” 

Zayne leaned closer, his voice softening, “Each macaroon not only tastes good but tells its own little story. Let’s try them all, hmm?”

★You smiled at the memory, whispering, “He’s so cute,” but your smile faded as you remembered the decision ahead. Zayne’s tastes in desserts made choosing the right one for his birthday even harder. And time was running out—this was supposed to be a surprise. 

★Another critical mention: you are a terrible baker. Between your hectic schedule as a hunter and lack of practice, you barely had time to eat properly, let alone learn how to bake. You glanced at the cookbook, the pages worn from your frantic flipping. Then it struck you—why not combine two things he loves? A macaroon cake! A… “cakaroon,” you mused.

★You decided on a chocolate base, grabbing flour, eggs, sugar, and cocoa powder. You mixed them, clumsily splashing batter onto Zayne’s counters. As you worked, one of your favorite songs began to play, and you softly sang along, your mind drifting back to memories with Zayne. 

★It all started when you were kids playing together. Zayne was always the quiet, stoic type, making teasing him all the more fun. As you both grew older, life pulled you in different directions. You moved to another part of Linkon with your granny; years had passed without seeing him before you knew it. One day, you landed a job at the Hunters Association, which came with a new health plan and a new doctor. You still remember the shock when you realized your new primary care physician was Zayne. At first, you thought it was a coincidence—after all, Zayne isn’t an uncommon name. But then, he walked in, the same Zayne you’d known since childhood, standing before you—a man now. 

★The truth is, you always liked Zayne. But you never quite knew how to communicate that. Maybe this cake could be a way of saying, “Happy birthday—by the way, I like you.” 

★You finished mixing the batter and poured it into two cake pans. “Mmh,” you nodded as you slid them into the oven. “Things are going good. I hope he likes this,” you thought, allowing yourself a moment of hope. 

★You sat on a stool by the kitchen island, glancing at the clock and humming to music. Suddenly, you heard the click of the front door. “Shit!” You thought, leaping out of your seat so fast you nearly slipped. During your panic, Zayne walked into the room. 

“y/n?” he called, his voice laced with confusion. He approached, reaching for your arm. 

You turned, face flushing. “Hey…” you said, trying to keep calm as you stood up slowly. 

“Why are you here?” Zayne asked, his brows furrowed. 

“I—I was going to surprise you,” you stammered, feeling your cheeks heating up.

“But it seems you got off work sooner than I thought….” 

Zayne looked at you, his gaze softening. But that didn’t stop you from talking. “I—I planned to surprise you, you know. Your birthday is so soon, and I know you love sweets. So I bought all these ingredients, lost track of time because I couldn’t decide what to do, and then looked up. You got home sooner than I thought, but I wanted the cake ready when you got here because this is supposed to be a surprise.” You stumbled over your words, going on and on about your plans for his birthday. 

Your cheeks heated up when you realized Zayne was smiling at you—that half-smile he always did when amused. 

A playful glint struck his eyes, “Should I leave and come back in an hour to give you more time to finish?” 

His teasing made your face even hotter, and you couldn’t help but laugh nervously. “No, no! I—well, I just wanted it to be perfect, that’s all,” you mumbled, looking down.

Zayne flashed that half-smile and stepped closer, gently lifting his hand to touch your cheek. “I don’t dislike it.”

The alarm for the forgotten cakes went off, breaking the tension between you two. You quickly turned and rushed to the oven, pulling the cakes out before they burned.

“Why don’t we finish the cake together?” Zayne suggested, his voice still light with amusement.

You placed the cakes on the counter, almost burning yourself as the hot pans grazed your fingertips. Zayne leaned over to inspect them, a teasing grin on his lips. “These are quite lopsided,” he remarked.

You blushed profusely, realizing you didn’t level out the batter earlier. Still feeling a little embarrassed, you watched Zayne walk over to his cabinets, pulling out a small container of toothpicks. 

He took one out and handed it to you. “Try this. Stick it in the center. If it comes out clean, they’re done.” 

You took the toothpick and gently pushed it into the cake. Relief washed over you as it came out completely clean. “Looks like it’s ready.”, you said, glancing up at Zayne’s emerald eyes. 

He carefully lifted the pans and placed them on the stove burners to cool. “What flavor were you thinking for the icing?” he asked, his tone more curious now. 

“I was planning on a raspberry filing,” you replied, your voice softening. “Like the macaroons we got a couple of weeks ago.” 

Zayne’s eyes lit up at the memory. “Indeed, that’s an excellent choice.” 

The two of you worked side by side, mixing fresh raspberries, chocolate shavings, and cream. The icing filled the kitchen with a sweet and tangy scent. As you stirred the ingredients together, a thought crossed your mind, and you couldn’t help but voice it.

“Do you ever get lonely?” you asked, your tone more vulnerable than intended. 

Zayne paused, his brows furrowed slightly as he considered the question, “Why do you ask?” 

You hesitated, then continued, “I was just thinking…  You’re working the day before your birthday. Doesn’t that get lonely? You spend so much time helping others, but who’s there for you?” 

He sighed softly, his gaze dropping to the mixing bowl. “I love my work. It’s fulfilling to perform surgeries and make a difference. But, yes, I suppose there are moments when I feel alone. What about you?” 

You stared at the swirling mixture, the vibrant red of the raspberries reminding you of the warmth that had once filled your life. “Sometimes, I’m too busy hunting wanderers to notice how I feel. I often convince myself I’m okay because I don’t have time to think otherwise. But lately, especially since Granny and Caleb passed—it’s been harder. Their absence is always there, even if I try not to feel it. “

Zayne’s hand reached out, gently covering yours. The touch was soft, but it broke through the fog of your thoughts. You looked up to find his eyes filled with sincerity, a quiet understanding that words couldn’t convey. 

“I’m here for you,” he whispered, his voice steady and reassuring. 

The loneliness that weighed so heavily on you seemed to lift for a moment. You moved your hand to hold Zayne’s fully, feeling the warmth of his palm against yours. In that shared silence, you knew you weren’t alone. 

Zayne gazed deeply into your eyes, wanting to see the soul that lay beneath. Tranquility filled the room, and the gentle strings of music were the only sound that broke the silence. 

Zayne leaned in closer, your lips almost touching; the tension between you was palpable. 

You lifted yourself, balancing on your tiptoes. Gently, you kissed Zayne's lips, feeling your heart skip a beat as your lips met his.

The kiss was soft, yet it carried an intensity that spoke of the emotions brewing deep within you. Your heart raced as he held you close, your veins pulsating beneath your skin. 

He slowly pulled away from the kiss, his emerald eyes never leaving yours.

______________________________________________________________

what did ya'll think :333

planning on writing a pt 2 maybe

ignore that I did not finish coding the stars LMAO

[eldritch-spouse]

PINNIE I WANNA PUT BELO IN AN AMAZON POSITION, is that what it’s called,,,? I DUNNO DONT CARE I WANT THIS ANGEL BOY BENEATH ME—DOMINATE HIM AA!! Also it’s funny imaging a small human bending a large angel :}

[YOU'RE SPEAKING MY LANGUAGE OOOOOHHH-💨 Fem reader. You are not Admin in this.]

TW: Reader is slightly pushy at first but it's entirely consensual.

" I want to try something different. " You muse out loud.

" ... My Lady? "

Sex with Belo is great.

Upon first meeting the angel, you had one or two assumptions in your head that you thought held true. That angels are asexual, incapable of carnal desire. You thought he'd chastise you for expressing attraction to him, that he wouldn't make for a pleasing bedmate anyway.

You couldn't have been more wrong. Belo is none of those things.

In fact, the signs were there from the start. Belo had been struggling with containing his own desires for a torturous amount of time. You simply didn't want to interpret reality for what it was. Didn't want to believe that lingering touches meant more than just a different perception of personal boundaries, that his longing staring wasn't just a tendency of angels to be vigilant... Even as he confessed to finding you the most gorgeous lesser there is, you didn't believe that attraction could hold within itself the selfishness of lust.

Obviously, you know much better by now.

You know Belo craves to please you at any capacity he can, that your approval and ecstasy in bed is something he always seems to put before his own. And you love the sensation of his body atop yours, his sheer size, his warmth, the trembling need barely contained in his limbs when he sinks into you and that unforgettable softness experienced when your hands roam around his furred figure. It's bliss from beginning to end, your own little Eden provided by the angel that somehow proclaimed you his savior.

And yet...

Sometimes, it feels repetitive.

Like Belo is somewhat scared of doing something you would consider inadequate, so he sticks tightly to what he knows. Especially positions and gestures you have initiated in the past. You initially understood this as a sign of Belo's timidity and slight apprehension regarding such intimacies, but as time passes, you're fairly certain he himself is longing to try different things.

And you've been plagued with a certain mental image for a while.

So why not try your hand at it?

The power stares expectantly at your seated form on the couch by the doorway, having previously been in the kitchen, busying himself with chores you didn't assign or request of him- As usual. He dons on his front one of your aprons, the cloth looking ridiculously tiny on him, covered with stains you assume belong to sauces.

He's always wearing that black tight suit, it almost makes you feel bad for preferring to put on loose-fitting and comfortable clothes in your own home.

" I want to try something different, Belo. " You repeat.

There's a humorous pause wherein the angel tries to calculate what you might be talking about, your poker face and neutral tone betraying absolutely nothing. His eyes widen, and the non-human straightens immediately.

" Yes, of course my Lady! I've been looking at those uhm... " Belo gesticulates oddly, searching for words he doesn't necessarily understand. " Those digital cookbooks you have, and I spotted this very good-looking dish- "

Oh. Oh the poor thing.

He thinks you're talking about dinner.

The laugh that erupts from your throat is hearty and genuine, startling your devoted celestial into ashamed silence. Maybe he assumes you're mocking him for trying to use your social media bookmarks to cook. It's a genuinely sweet and loving effort from Belo, one of very many, provided he doesn't require nourishment in the form of actual food like you. You don't want him to feel self-conscious about something so considerate.

Rising from the comforting cushions, you approach the taller monster with a dubious little grin on your lips, hands dipping behind the apron to tug the long open collar of his outfit forward, down, your eyes meeting his two naturally engorged ones. The angel's tilted eyes have always been a touch too intense, but you know that's in his kind's nature, especially since he told you his specific cast specializes in combat and protection. Still, it's ever easy to get lost in those pools.

" I said something new. "

This time, there can be no type of misunderstanding. Even if Belo had the thickest skull in all of existence, the way your lids bat coyly and your head cants leaves zero to the imagination. An index flirts idly with neat clumps of fur as his chest begins fluffing in tension. He has no saliva to swallow down, but you wouldn't blame him if he gulped at this moment.

" Ah- I... I see. "

With a gentler smile, you undo the apron's knot, pressing a chaste kiss to the side of Belo's face, hearing him coo a noise out, before carefully removing the garment in a way that causes the least discomfort possible to his smaller pair of wings.

" Did you leave anything on in the kitchen? "

" No, my Lady. "

He doesn't quite know what to do with himself, hands previously twitching by his sides now holding each other at his front, before he decides the pose isn't appropriate and holds them at his back instead, straightening- As if you needed another reminder of how he towers over humans. Three eyes bounce everywhere in the room, avoiding you as he always does when nervous, yet occasionally fleetingly checking for some type of approval in your gaze.

Cruelly, you allow him to remain in that riled up stasis for a few precious moments, standing on the tips of your toes to further crowd him.

" Good. Leave dinner to me tonight. "

When you take that lightly furred pale hand in yours, Belo follows obediently after you like a lost puppy.

" Undress. " You begin as soon as you're inside the bedroom, not even bothered to look the angel's way as you start arranging the sheets and pillows.

You're going to put him in a position that might be a little stressful for a being with wings, so there's a lot of caution to be exercised here. You figure support for his lower back and neck should help. After all, he takes similar measures with you regularly.

The sound of something soft hitting the floor has you finally looking back, faced with your angel now bare, flexing his wings gently. You've always wondered how he doesn't struggle with taking off clothes given his large wings, you'd certainly consider it a chore, just as many demons hate sweaters that get caught on their horns.

Belo presents himself to you, standing straight and spanning his wings a certain distance -Careful not to hit the walls- And spreading his legs the slightest amount in spite of his ever present slight nervousness. You've always liked that little tuft of fur above his slit, the way it feels against your fingers when he neglects to trim it for a while.

" My beautiful angel. " You praise. " Come, undress me. "

And really, if there was one request you could make of the all-powerful beings Belo so frequently raves about, it would be the ability to see the way his furious flush spreads from his face to his already fur-covered neck.

Supremely gentle and dexterous fingers work at your clothes with the same reverence he continues to extend your way no matter how much time passes. You'll never get used to this level of sweetness, this worship, Belo touches you like with a love so profound you can swear you somehow feel it in the tips of his digits. Even in his moments of seemingly greedy pursuit of gratification, Belo doesn't seem to know how to be anything except devoted. Maybe it's because he's angelic, but you can say for certain that you've never been treated this nicely, and you've never longed for anyone's embrace as much as you long for his.

The power doesn't let his fingers roam too much when he follows your command, intent on getting things done dutifully as opposed to demonstrating lack of self-control. His eyes however, swirling windows to the soul of a celestial, reveal everything he refuses to voice or act on out of respect for you. Belo's pupils dilate immensely as soon as your bare breasts are exposed, his digits acquire a slight tremble as he makes to fold your top and set it down on the drawer, until you playfully bat it out of his hand. Belo sinks to his knees in front of you, and the view is so paradoxical -A holy creature kneeling to its gods' mistake- That you nearly burst out cackling. Instead, all that leaves your mouth is a silent gasp when he catches the hem of your sweatpants and drags it down, hooking over your panties as well. The trip down is slow, measured, and you know it's not an intentional tease but you still shimmy to have it fall faster, catching a twitch in his largest eye, while the one beneath it has fixed itself on your naked pussy.

When his task is completed, Belo remains kneeling obediently, palms flat on his thighs.

" Thank you. " You purr. " Sit on the bed. "

He does, albeit on the very edge, quickly correcting himself when you make a "further" motion.

Seeing the way Belo's eyes widen as you move to almost straddle him is as intoxicating as it was the first time. You remember the luxurious roll of your hips over his own, recall his fingers twitching as he tried to grab onto you without bruising frail human skin. Delightful and memorable.

" Lay, my sweet. "

Ever the glutton for obedience, it's not long before the angel is on his back, and you immediately take the opportunity to flatten your palms to his furred chest, fingers threading between that familiar softness like second nature. Your head soon joins, nuzzling yet careful to avoid the extra eye stationed there. You trail a path of lazy kisses upwards, tracing the edges of his built-in halo you can reach and dragging your teeth across the root of his left pair of head wings.

The response is instantaneous and intense, this sudden cooing moan hopelessly erupting from Belo's throat before he seems to pale even further in shame and muffles the noise. Tsk, it seems he'll never learn to sing freely, no matter how many times you reassure the power that his angelic vocalizations are half the fun. Those smaller wings twitch and flap, the ones on his back fanning out humorously.

" You're adorable. " It's said in a mocking tone, followed by laughter as the angel fails to suppress more noises when you offer the remaining wing equal attention.

You love that he's already matting his own fur in slick by the time you reach down to part it and play with his pretty pink slit. It's engorged, his length already brushing against the fingertips that brazenly dip inside. With a gasp, the power spreads his legs slightly and tenses. You can feel his effort to keep still.

As soon as you begin crawling back to settle your head between snowy legs, he gathers enough wit to start babbling the same old drivel.

" M- My Lady, you need not- "

" I don't need to, I want to. "

Belo looks at you like he doesn't quite get the point. And frankly, some concepts seem to have been drilled so hard into his mind that you worry he will never understand other views of the world.

" You want to please me, right? " You start, kissing at his sheath until the very tip of him shows itself.

" More than anything. " The male pants.

" Then you should know that pleasing you pleases me. "

And with that, you take what's available of his rosy length in your mouth, coaxing the rest of him out almost impatiently.

Belo's choked groan of surprise has you smiling around him, amused by the impulsive horse buck of his legs before he garbles and apology and tries to melt back onto the sheets, poorly. He won't hold your head. Not from lack of desire, but that ever-persistent sense of inferiority, fisting his hands on the fabric beneath him instead. When one of his arms does rise, all he does is shakily pet your hair, inhaling sharply at the swipe of your tongue across his head, before dropping it again.

" Lady... "

He moans pitifully, a delicious sound coming from a creature so supposedly holy.

As much as you'd enjoy keeping him between your lips, your goal this time is much more fun, so you pop off him lazily. There's a moment where he twitches and his fur bristles in what anyone can guess is instinctual irritation, but Belo doesn't say a peep.

Seeing his eyes bulge when you grab Belo's thighs and start bending them up is hilarious enough that you giggle openly.

" What- What are we doing, my Lady? "

" Relax, I promise you'll like it. " Or at least you assume he will, what with his desire to always be below yourself. " Now please, hold your legs up for me. "

The title would get repetitive if you didn't enjoy it so much.

The angel does, grabbing the back of his knees and sliding his legs back with the help of your guidance, until they're basically glued to his chest. He's fit, you're not surprised he can easily hold that position. In fact, you get to see the exact moment it clicks in his bird brain, the nature of the position he's in. His cock bobs aimlessly and his wings move almost as if to cover his figure sides in shame. And, admittedly, the view has all sorts of chills taking hold of your limbs, your own womanhood singing.

" My Lady, this is so... So...! "

Eyes roll slowly at his stuttering, though you relish the tremor of his pupils when you move to hover over him, as if your much smaller body could ever constitute as a minimal threat to his.

" Filthy? Lewd? Scandalous? " You kiss directly beneath his eyes. " Yes, just how I like you, my debauched dove. "

With a soft command for him to hold still, you rearrange the pillows beneath his body properly and take a moment to figure your own position correctly. After all, as much as you've thought about doing this before, you never actually got to make that wish come true, so it'll take a bit of experimentation.

Belo continues to be mildly confused. " No- No offense, Lady, but are you sure this is correct? "

You scoot to line Belo's member up with your entrance, rubbing him against you to spread the angel's arousal and facilitate things. He shudders in anticipation, the lowermost eye on his face already rolling in pleasure.

" Why wouldn't it be? "

He's not given a chance to respond before you gradually sink onto his girth, causing such a reaction that he nearly releases his legs before holding them ever tighter.

" Gghn-!! O-Oh... "

Sparing him the smallest mercy, you're slow to rock yourself on him, letting the first shock of heat flow through him before you're flush to his pelvis. It's a wonderful position, he's hitting you deeper than usual already, ripping a soft mewl out of you as your cunt clenches greedily around the intrusion.

" See? " You huff, slightly out of breath when you experimentally bounce a little on him. Belo whines long and low, unsure what else he can do to ground himself. " It works just fine. "

The first few rocks are entirely random as you try to quickly work out a rhythm and motion that works well enough, settling for straightening up and grabbing Belo's ankles for support, careful not to twist the tiny feathers there. Finally, you're able to get into it properly, a sickly delight on your face as you watch Belo's figure shift beneath your thrusts.

Is this... What you look like to him? Not a bad sight at all.

Belo's eyes, previously closing at the first taste of rapture your walls brought him, widen like the dinner plates at the notion that he's being well and truly fucked by his human. There's a pause where it looks as if his mind has truly been fried, one eye fixed on your face, another on the sway of your tits, and the other memorizing the way your pussy swallows him.

You won't lie, the rush of dominance, of having something so much more than human willingly present themself for you, allowing a tiny human to ride them into submission- It has you beside yourself with want, and your smirk crashes into a pleasured "oh" as you join Belo in his stunned marveling.

You'll be doing this a lot more often, for sure.

" Hhn- Oh lords please- I- " Belo melts and shivers, his chest fluffing itself further and his wings twitching sporadically. " Humans have- Developed such odd mating customs... "

He's talking like he isn't throbbing madly inside you right now.

" Mhm, you need to catch up on a lot of stuff, pretty boy. "

Though of course, you'll be personally helping with that.

When your mind starts blanking in bliss and your body gives its first warning signs of an approaching peak, you look down at Belo, whose head has tossed onto the pillow supporting his neck and whose wings fan out in a tense crescendo of pleasure. His legs and feet spasm periodically and he moans the wetter his fur becomes with your slick.

Another reason you like his fur is the surprising amount of friction and texture it can offer your clit when you're intimate. It's the soft brush of a feather almost, but enough to bring you closer to orgasm all that quicker! Honestly, the only downside to Belo's incredibly soft fur is that vacuuming is a little more frequent and pesky.

In moments, you're bending to be flush to his body, batting Belo's hands away so you can hold his legs back yourself. It's an even more intense angle, making you feel even more powerful as you hold the angel down and piston his cock into you as hard as you physically can, sweating and panting in exertion.

You're sure you must look downright beastly right now, but all Belo does is whine and mewl, still gazing at you as if you were the most entrancing thing to ever exist, a wonder of the universe above him. The power gathers enough motor coherence to brush strands of hair out of your face, tucking them behind your ear, before his arms flop uselessly at his sides once more, fingers curling in delight.

All those lavender eyes begin to roll, his hips rising off the bed yet smacked back down viciously by the weight of your body thrusting him down, in the midst of his mindless crooning noises, Belo utters your name like a plea for mercy and wraps his arms around your back, your breasts sliding on his chest and his legs reflexively fighting your grip so he can presumably wrap them around your smaller figure too.

He's a vision of the sweetest dream like this.

" Gods please don't stop- Please please- I'm sorry I can't- " The angel cries, tears beading in the corner of his three eyes, absolutely helpless and hopeless beneath you.

All of it comes together to send you well over the edge, throwing you into a climax so shockingly strong that you fuck yourself on him one last leg-shaking time before tensing and crying out to the ceiling. He follows instantly, having been holding himself for a while. You relish the sensation of Belo's cum shooting deep into your hole, only to have no choice except to drip back down and stain him, slip between his legs and yours in grossly warm globs.

Seconds of you two catching your breath silently and fondly pass, until you slowly release Belo's legs and rub his thighs in gratitude. He seems content to remain holding you, though avoids your gaze now that the post-orgasm clarity has him bashful again.

" Thank you for humoring me. " You sigh against his neck.

His wings close over the two of you gently. " Always, my love. "

[cloudcountry]

SUMMARY: vincent sees a masterpiece in you.

WARNINGS: None!! :D

COMMENTS: GAHHH SHUT UP OKAY SHUT UP. HE'S SO KIND. i havent played hsi route yet but i am brainrotting a little. also i was inspired by myself because i realized how animated i am and i was immediately like "omg an artists muse" bc WOW all my facial expressions and body language could give an artist a career I MOVE TOO MUCH!!!!

anyway yes he's sweet but i don't really know a lot about him. do vincent kissers even exist!??!?!?!

An artist at heart, he’s accustomed to noticing the beauty of everything around him. From the way your eyes widen when you’re surprised to the way they crinkle when you’re happy, from the way your lips stretch across your face when you smile at him to the way they purse when you pout, from the way you drag your hands down your arms when you’re cold and trail them down your legs when you’re stretching, to the way your fingers position themselves around a pen when you’re scribbling out annotations in a cookbook.

Or maybe, he’s just become accustomed to noticing your beauty.

“Vincent.” you call, “You’re staring.”

He makes a soft noise of acknowledgment and flashes you an awkward smile. His eyes fall to the notepad in front of him, and he ignores the way his cheeks flush a tender pink. It’s a lovely feeling, the pitter-patter of his heart in his chest and the shaky breaths that come with knowing you.

He’s in awe of the artist that sketched you out and brought you to life. He's envious of the paints that colored you in. Vincent wishes there was a part of you for him in your masterpiece, a blank space that only he could fill. He would fill you with blues and yellows and browns, he would paint the night sky in your eyes and sunflowers along your legs. Each petal would be delicately sketched out along the flesh of your thigh, and his paintbrush would travel down your calves as he sculpted the stems. He would worship you like you deserve, treat you with reverence, and treasure you like nobody else could.

“Sunflower.” you whisper, right next to his ear, “Are you alright?”

Vincent snaps out of his trance once again, an easy smile falling across his lips. His chair groans against the floor as he pushes away from the table, staring up at you as you stand in front of him.

“Of course. I’m sorry for worrying you.” he says softly, looking up at you through his lashes, “Did you say something?”

“Nothing important.” you smile, like you know exactly what he’s been thinking.

You probably do. Vincent blushes, ducking his head to the side so you can’t see his face.

“Can you come to my room later? After you’re done here?” he asks, reaching out to touch you.

His hands rest on your hips, and you let him pull you closer. Your eyes are full of intrigue, and he knows you'll say yes, but he needs to hear the words from your lips.

“Of course.” you hum, leaning down to his level, “I wouldn’t go anywhere else.”

You kiss his forehead, and his heart stumbles in his chest. Right there, he sees it. He sees you. You’re made up of so many shades of color that belong to everyone you’ve ever met and loved, but right there, on your lips, are swirls of gold and blue.

And as you pull away, he sees sunflowers in your heart.

[chefkids]

The Bear is taking a trip to a Magic Farm in Memphis on the City of New Orleans train

When Richie is looking for the quote to tell the staff in the pre service meeting, in his notebook we see a page with a story about Thomas Keller, head Chef of The French Laundry. It says:

In 1978, a young Thomas Keller loaded his backpack with snacks and ambition and boarded a bus to Memphis. "Why Memphis?" you say, "That's a magic farm, a place for an inspirational chef."

As far as my research goes, this story seems to be made up. But if you head south of Chicago and head towards New Orleans, right in the middle is Memphis, Tennessee.

Sydney's short rib risotto dish combined elements of both of those cities cousines, the beef from Chicago and the Etouffee from New Orleans and from both of Syd and Carmy's family meals.

And I know a couple of young chef's that have been searching for inspiration. Sydney said she wanted to go to Noma for inspiration, Carmy wanted to go to Kasama with her for inspiration before he bailed.

Carmy was stuck at home drawing the lamb dish Sydney tried out, searching through all his cookbooks and thinking back on his past restaurant experiences for inspiration, thinking of The French Laundry, but was unable to finish it. Sydney has had basically no dish truly of her own since opening.

And we know Sydney is his muse at the end of the day.

The Amtrak train has a direct route from Chicago to New Orleans that stops in Memphis called City Of New Orleans. There is also a famous song called City of New Orleans by Steve Goodman about this route that has been covered by a lot of artists. It talks about trains being magic carpets made out of steel, and how it makes everything feel like it was just a bad dream.

We know trains are a recurring theme on the show. We even saw Chris Storer make a cameo on a train in Napkins.

Are Syd and Carmy going to take a train trip down to Memphis to look for inspiration, make magic, and make their railroad blues disappear?

Or is Marcus going to be the one to go there on another adventure side quest to find the magic for his violet dessert that may or may not cause Syd and Carmy to fall in love? We'll have to wait and see.

[ahogechef]

EEEE the tags you guys left on the promo post 🥺💖 you're all soo sweet, waaaah!!!!

[milkytheholy1]

Day 29: Mutation Day

"Happy birthday to you, happy birthday to you, happy birthday to Leo, Raph, Donnie and Mikeyyyy, happy birthday to youuuu!" the gang sang out.

It was the boys' Mutation Day, a very special one at that. Everyone the boys' had ever helped and loved was surrounding them. Karai and Splinter stood side by side, the Mutanimals swayed back and forth with laughter, April and Casey were popping streamers and Mona and Renet were cheering their respective partners.

Yes, it was truly a great day, probably one of the best days the turtles had ever experienced. Presents had been opened in the morning, and with all the chatter it felt rather like Christmas than their birthdays. Leonardo had been gifted some new comics, some protein drinks and a Spacehereos action figure by Master Splinter, who with all honesty, had no clue what a Spacehereos was.

Raph had found himself with some more weights thanks to Slash, another round of protein drinks all from Casey, and the most precious thing of all, a new baby turtle to look after. His name was Crash because he kept crashing into Splinter's antique vases.

Donnie received a lot of university-level science and math books, and some new samples of DNA to test, which although sounded boring to everyone else, Donnie was positively ecstatic. And he of course acquired more protein shakes, possibly the most compared to everyone else.

Mikey had come away with a bunch of new comics and video games, and April had gifted him a pizza cookbook too, much to the relief of everyone in the room. Renet had got him some futuristic game console, promising that it would be the best-selling game in 3000 years.

"This is the best Mutation Day ever, yo!" Mikey cheered, hugging his friends and family, well as much as he could, there were a lot of them. Splinter laughed, sitting down on his favourite recliner, "This reminds me of the day I first found you all." he started, stroking his beard. Raph groaned, "Really, Master Splinter, again? You tell this story every year."

"And I will continue to tell it until the day I die, now shush." he bonked Raph on the head. Everyone had gathered around Splinter, listening eagerly to the story, each year it was the exact same, no detail missed, no part forgotten.

"I can't believe it has been 18 years since we were all first mutated, but look at how you all have grown." Master Splinter continued, "Right? It's crazy to think about how small we were back then and how different the world was." Leo mused, "But some things will always stay the same, my boys." Splinter smiled, "Yeah, like how much of a dork Donnie is." Raph joked.

"Hey!" Donnie objected.

Yes, Mutation Day was seemingly always the event of the year, besides Christmas, it's what brought the family close and was a special time for all.

Happy 12 years of TMNT 2012.

[rosesblve]

hello, midas!! ✦

hi everyone! i’m nicole (25+, she/her) and i’m so excited to be here and to finally introduce bae heejin, girl code’s peachee leader and main vocal! i’ve been lurking for a bit while waiting for acceptances, and i already love the energy of this place- i can’t wait to write with you all! feel free to add me on discord (lqdoyeon) for plotting, screaming about our muses, or just chatting.

--- ✦ to keep it short and sweet, here’s a quick rundown on heejin:

✦ leader & main vocal of girl code—the steady, level-headed anchor, and self-appointed spokesperson ✦ one of the longest trainees (i think)—originally signed in 2018 to midas, but trained at a different company for 2 years before ✦ predebut it-girl energy—had netizens in a chokehold over her social media photos before she even debuted. fans dug up old posts from a since deleted account, and she had a whole mini-fandom before girl code was even announced ✦ known for her warmth & quiet charisma—a naturally nurturing leader who takes care of her members ✦ stage presence is effortless—soft but commanding, with a voice that sticks with you ✦ a fanservice queen™—knows exactly how to work a crowd and make every fan feel like the main character. went viral for that one fansign moment (see: career spreadsheet) and has been unstoppable ever since ✦ often seen as the “most put together”—but she’s just really good at keeping things in check. ✦ lowkey a grandma—cooks for her members, maintains an herb garden, and collects vintage cookbooks ✦ big fan of late-night deep talks & handwritten letters—would 100% leave cute notes for her members ✦ has a fish tank in the dorm—most of them are named after phaze members (yes, she thinks it’s hilarious), and fishyun (phaze yuhyeon's aquatic counterpart) is the undisputed star ✦ very much a tea drinker—loves honey tea specifically and probably has an entire cabinet dedicated to teas ✦ obsessively journals—has a whole collection of filled notebooks, and yes, she brings them everywhere

i’m so excited to be here & to write with everyone! my dms are always open, so feel free to reach out if you’d like to plot or just say hi!! ✨💖

[indecisiveavocado]

my long overdue intro post

I post mostly about Jewish stuff, including antisemitism and Israel. Occasionally other things. Didn't mean to, just sort of spiraled.

Waiting for my Jewish space laser.

Goyim welcome but may be perplexed.

About me (not Judaism/Israel related)

She/they. Autistic. Neurodivergent. Sadly, American. Anxious. Not good at deciding things.

About me (Judaism/Israel related)

Zionist, in the sense of "Jews should have a state roughly where it is now with undefined borders". Ashkenazi. Reform Jew hovering near agnostic/athiest/ignostic. ✡️, obviously. Stands with Israelis; does not stand with Israel's government. Fuck Bibi.

slogans & such

bring them home now. am yisrael chai! we will dance again. we will outlive them.

woman, life, freedom / زن، زندگ��، آزادی. biji kurdistan.

nothing about us without us. healthcare is a human right.

childless cat lady. black lives matter. believe women. defund the police. protect trans kids.

We are the 99 percent. (hummed) look for the union label

slava ukraini!

free uyghurs. free rohingya. free everyone.

Other people's good posts

Oh shit, how did I forget to add this one? Crucial context on Israel, Palestine, Judaism, etc.

https://www.tumblr.com/the-library-alcove/768325306084999168/so-a-while-back-a-fairly-left-wing-friend-of-mine: Left-wing Shoah denial

https://www.tumblr.com/greco-roman-jewess/773850159100624896/being-a-jew-studying-preholocaust-european-jewish: We got the bad ending

https://www.tumblr.com/a-very-tired-jew/778463277637304320: Columbia University antisemitism report

https://www.tumblr.com/unsolicited-opinions/777853546362290176: They went to Israel because it's all there was; musings on Zionism, Israel, etc

https://www.tumblr.com/fromchaostocosmos/778198867204325376/could-you-please-explain-to-me-how-and-why-exactly: gender roles in Judaism, particularly for Jewish men

https://www.tumblr.com/pagecommando/783227247604744192: jews as a rorscharch test

https://www.tumblr.com/odakota-rose/738887554804383744/people-with-low-spoons-someone-just-recommended: The -- free! -- "Sad Bastard Cookbook". Despite the name it's also great if you have other reasons for low spoons (or executive dysfunction)

https://www.tumblr.com/self-care-club/757577148611674112/alexithymia-sucks-this-chart-helps: Fun fact: ~10 percent of people have alexithymia! If you're one of them, try this. It's hard to pinpoint the exact thing but it can get you a vague word. Sadly it doesn't do much for poor interoception (or the fact that Google's dictionary apparently doesn't recognize the word interoception), but it's a start!

https://www.tumblr.com/swarm-of-bees-in-a-trenchcoat/758045266151653376/dealing-with-executive-dysfunction-a-masterpost Executive dysfunction masterpost

https://www.tumblr.com/the-library-alcove/785513502869798912: Hamasnik bingo card, with explanations.

https://www.tumblr.com/unsolicited-opinions/785898041533153280/major-armed-conflicts-between-hamas-and-israel: How intersectionality got twisted into something it wasn't supposed to be

Sideblogs:

@zionism-is-antisemitism, @zionism--is--antisemitism, @zionismisantisemitism: to keep antisemites from getting to it, I don't plan on posting much/at all.

@not-at-all-antisemitic: Haven't quite figured this one out yet. Maybe it'll be an archive.

Procedures & clarfications:

Names of antisemites might not be censored. Depends on my mood.

Many posts will be archived on my end (eg with screenshots)

I may direct you to/quote older posts. If you don't want that to happen, maybe be originally antisemitic.

Genuine questions about Judaism, Israel, etc are welcome! I leave it to you to know if it's genuine.

I will try to flag posts with trigger warnings etc but I may miss some.

If you say something where you are clearly using a dogwhistle for Jew, I will reply as if you said Jew.

Common pitfalls in ad hominems

To save you the trouble of embarrassingly referring to me as one thing only to be informed I am another, here are some not-really-negative things you can slander me with and some common pitfalls when you are ad homineming me.

I:

am Zionist

am Jewish

American, unfortunately. (Emigrating is hard for disabled people, most countries with actual healthcare systems won't accept me and for some reason I don't think making aliyah will make them shut up?)

stand with Israel (mostly)

I am not:

Israeli (or other implications, such as being an Israeli citizen, having any extra influence on Israeli politics, etc). I have never been to Israel.

a Khazar

a Nazi (well, I suppose I might be...as usual, I'd like a definition of how I have in any way, shape, or form expressed support or tolerance of the actions or ideology of the Nazis)

In Memory

Update, February 20, 2025: Kfir, Ariel, and Shiri Bibas are dead.

Kfir was nine months when he was kidnapped. Depending on how old he was when he died, he may have spent most of his life in captivity. He was a baby who had an infectious laugh and had just started crawling. He was always smiling. He didn't even have teeth yet.

Ariel was four, maybe five. He was full of energy and liked Batman, toy cars and tractors, and "anything with wheels and a motor".

Shiri was in her thirties. Her name meant "my song". There's something poetic about that, somewhere.

Even-Longer-Overdue Changelog

Watch me fail to update this when I make changes.

June 19, 2025: We will outlive them.

June 9, 2025 (dang I did not realize how often I update this): Added intersectionality thing

June 6, 2025: Deleted international politics; added hamasnik bingo card

May 22, 2025: Added the crucial context post

May 12, 2025: executive dysfunction masterpost added. will forget about it because i have bad executive function; jews as rorscarch test or however the fuck you spell it

May 8, 2025: Added international politics section; moved Kfir/Shiri/Ariel memorial to the end; added slogans; changed introduction.

April 2, 2025: Added Sad Bastard Cookbook and alexithymia chart, minor formatting changes, created this changelog.

(Retroactive) Feb. 20, 2025: Update on Ariel and Kfir.

(Retroactive) Dec. 17, 2024 -- Created this post

[gwenchobanicooksmisspiggy]

hello my name is gwen chobani and i cannot cook. for the life of me i make the worst food ever. most things i make my brother spits out in horror. it is a painful thing, being so bad in the kitchen. no one understands me but Beyoncé. I'm also a lifelong Muppet stan.

well, lo and behold, Miss Piggy (my feminist hero) has a cookbook filled with celebrities' recipes (or moreso, their private chefs recipes probably.) it was published in 1996 and was for some charity idk. there's also a jab at Oprah and some pretty damn funny/cute little musings about dinner parties n shit.

well, I've decided to channel my inner Amy Adams and go through every recipe in this book to teach me how to cook, Julie & Julia style. Miss Piggy will teach me. she will guide me. she will save me. i would both kill and die for her.

the first recipe i decided to try was Larry King's Favorite Tuna Health Salad. i picked it as the first one because it seemed the easiest, seeing as there's no need to use the stove or oven.

i misread the ingredient list and added way too much tomato and bell pepper, tho oddly enough it could've stood to use even more celery than i ended up using even tho i used "too much."

while chopping the onion i realized "there's no fucking way i gotta put a whole onion in this thing" and well i was finally correct. it was just supposed to be 2 tablespoons lol.

anyway i made it and it was nasty imo. the white wine vinegar was too much. a 1/4 cup?? ludicrous. and not enough whipped dressing. if i make this again I'd put it way less vinegar and more dressing, and leave out the tomatoes because i find them psychologically disturbing.

my brother actually really liked it tho?? interesting. life is strange.

tune in next time for when i make something else, probably also fucking it up.

[silentmagi]

Tikki Wants Cookies

In the middle of the night, Tikki wants cookies, and there's none to be found… and yet there is one solution she could try.

Ao3

Tikki had a problem.

No, it wasn’t an Akuma, or Plagg related. Instead it was something much worse. It was terrible, horrible, and utterly unthinkable.

Tikki was out of cookies, and everyone else at the sleepover was sleeping. They still had half of Ratatouille left, so they were supposed to stay up and gossip. Fine, it might be best if Marinette catches up on sleep after defeating Hawkmoth and all the stress she’d been dealing with. But Alya and Trixx should have stayed up with her at least!

It wasn’t fair that her having stayed up until all hours for the past few months left her wide awake. She didn’t deserve to be punished like this, and denied her rightfully earned cookies. She should have nothing but mountains of cookies to devour at any time of day or night. The five plates she had were not enough.

Trying to watch the movie with the rumbling of her poor underfed tummy reminding her of the denied delicious sweet treats, she found herself jealous of Remy. He got to cook, and even could pilot his human so he could make bigger foods. It was too bad she couldn’t pilot Marinette like that, she mused as she tugged playfully at one of the pig tails she wore her hair in.

Then she saw an arm move.

No, it had to be a fluke, but what if it wasn’t? Peeking around, she saw that Marinette was still sleeping, and decided to try again. Giving another experimental tug, she found that the hand moved again.

A tug of another section of hair moved the foot this time, which caused Tikki to grin. It was a wide, broad grin as a wonderfully delightful thought occurred. She could not bake enough cookies, not with as small as she was… but Marinette… Oh Marinette could! She just needed guidance from a wise, ancient, beautiful, if tiny god of creation.

She was just such a humble and hungry entity.

If this worked for cookies, maybe she could ensure that Marinette made it to class on time for once.

But that was a side benefit she’d talk to Marinette about, for now it was time for the important task of making cookies. Let’s see, tugging these clumps moved the legs, and these were the arms, so she would just need to do, YES! She was standing up now. Careful, no, no no, don’t step on Alya. Yes, gentle, very gentle, and the other foot… good.

Getting across the room to the hatch to the main floor, she didn’t notice that Trixx and Alya were watching the pair of them, Alya rubbing her hand where she’d been kicked, while Trixx stroked his tail with a pout to his lips.

She was a bit busy controlling the Marimech to not fall down the ladder.

After only two close encounters of the wall-kind, she was able to get Marinette into the kitchen of the apartment. Grabbing the cookbook from its spot, she piloted Marinette to flip open to the right section, and read the title over her shoulder, and frown. No, that was Almond cookies, not what she wanted, flipping the page, she found Butterscotch cookies, not quite, but something to keep in mind for the future. Then there was Caramel cookies. Closer. Oh so much closer…

There! It was the recipe for the delicious and wonderful chocolate chip cookies, perfect, and wonderful. Just the right thing for a poor, starving, forgotten, neglected god of creation such as herself. Yet, she would forgive Marinette for not providing, if this worked. Pulling out the ingredients like she’d seen the Dupain-Chengs do before making anything, she smiled as she realized that there was enough to make a double batch.

It was wonderful! The perfect crime! She was guiding Marimech like a pro now, barely needing to think about the hair clumps to pull in order to get her chosen guardian to do the tasks of mixing and preparing the delightful treats.The oven was nearly pre-heated, and now all she had to do was spoon them onto the baking sheets.

Digging out the spoons to serve out the cookie dough, she prepared to scoop, when she found the hand didn’t obey her command, instead it was held up, and she could see blue eyes staring back at her, wide open blue eyes. “These are too small Tikki.”

“Hi Marinette,” the small, sweet, innocent, could do no wrong god offered with a timid wave at the spoon. “I-”

“You wanted cookies, didn’t you?” Marinette asked as she put the teaspoons away, and picked up the tablespoons to make the properly sized cookies. “We’ll need these…”

Tikki perked up as she found Marinette was going along with it. “Yes, that’s right, so everything is all set, and-”

She was cut off as a hand gripped her firmly around the body and held up to see Marinette giving her a very tight grin. “H-how long have you been awake?” she asked kindly, suddenly very aware that she was in trouble.

“Since the ladder, mostly, then the wall woke me the rest of the way,” the guardian and Miraculous Holder stated calmly as she placed Tikki on the counter, and put a glass measuring cup upside down over her. “You leave that, and you don’t get any cookies. You’re on time-out.”

No! Not that, how could she be in time-out! It wasn’t fair! Pressing her tiny, adorable paws against the glass prison, she watched as Marinette expertly used the spoons to scoop the dough, roll it into a ball, and place them on the trays. A dozen on each tray, just as the pre-heat dinged that the oven was ready.

“You two can come out as well,” Marinette stated as she put the mostly empty bowl on the counter near the sink. Tikki could see the small bits of chocolate chip filled dough clinging to the edge, just begging for her to come and clean them out before they were washed away. But she was in the god baby jail, unable to clean away the delicious dough begging for her to come and take them into her mouth.

Just as she was tempted to phase through the glass, despite Marinette’s warning, an orange tail dangled in front of her vision, blocking out her temptation. “Oh Guardian, that was brilliant playing along with her!”

“I almost broke our cover when you bumped into the second wall girl,” Alya added as she walked into view and leaned against the counter. “I was so tempted to record it all as payback for kicking on my hand.”

“And stepping on my tail!”

“Oh poor Trixx, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to, are you alright?” Marinette asked as she pulled the fox kwami into a gentle hug, and gave him a small bunch of grapes. The fox wagged his tail to show that there was no harm done, but took the grapes from her anyway.

“I’m fine Guardian, but thank you for asking,” he offered politely as he settled in front of the glass prison to eat the grapes, giving Tikki an impish grin as he popped the first grape into his mouth.

“You know, if you could trust her to not abuse it, you could even get her to do that so you get to school on time,” Alya teased, scrapping a finger along the bowl, and popping the resultant mound of dough into her mouth. Oh, such a cruel and unjust torment for the tiny god. This was a good thing, she could help Marinette so much with this discovery, but is being punished for testing it out with something minor and mutually beneficial.

“There’s egg and raw flour in that, don’t have too much. You don’t have a kwami stomach,” Marinette chided as she slid the first tray of cookies into the oven, right in front of Tikki, giving her a perfect view of it baking before her eyes. Oh, what delightful torture is this?

The delicious aroma, the slow browning and crisping of the edges of those delectable treats. She knew better than to phase through the oven, again, but it was so tempting. She wanted to have them in her poor empty belly now.

The conversation of the humans faded into the background as she stared at the baking cookies that were spreading and flattening with the heat. Truly the waiting was the hardest part, how long had it been? Hours? Days? Years? Oh, dear cookies, wait for her, she will get out of this unjust prison and be with you again.

Ten minute later, a timer chimed, and Marinette pulled out the perfectly golden cookies, sliding them off onto the cooling racks. They were so close, so very close, and yet she could not reach them, she wasn’t supposed to phase through this glass cage of emotional bondage. 

A second tray was added to the first, then a third, and all of the cookies were just there. Out of reach, but calling to her. Three cookies were removed, and eaten by the others, enjoyed and delighted about.

They were then plated up, piled in neat little stacks and some covered with plastic cling, while two plates remained uncovered, one with only six cookies on it, and another with a full dozen.

Suddenly, the cup was removed from over her, and Marinette was scooping her up into a hug, taking her away from the cookies. “I’m sorry Tikki, I know it was so hard for you. But I trust you learned your lesson?”

“Yes Marinette, I’m sorry.”

“Okay, so we’re going to let you have this plate of cookies,” Marinette explained while setting her on the one with six cookies on it. “And we’ll have the other one for ourselves.”

“What about those?” Tikki asked, pointing at the third plate with the vast majority of the cookies.

“Those are for next time we want cookies. But we should get to bed after this.”

Tikki couldn’t help but pout at the solid logic that was being presented, she should have realized that was the answer she was going to get. But it wasn’t fair to leave those poor cookies abandoned and uneaten.

“No,” Marinette stated as if she could read her thoughts. “That is not up for debate.”

Fine, but this wasn’t going to be the end of it, after all…

Tikki wants cookies.

[earthwindandraen]

@lunarcovestarters

Option A Where: Broken Record

"Gimme a second, sugar, and I'll be right there!" Rae called from the back room of Broken Record as she moved around a few boxes of records and CDs that had just been delivered that morning. Not for the first time in her life, Rae mused that telekinesis would be pretty useful, especially in situations like carrying boxes. No less of a strain on the body, but certainly easier to deal with. She'd get started with organizing when the store closed, but, for now, she set down the boxes and headed back out to the front of the store. "If you called earlier about that Dolly Parton cookbook, I'm afraid we don't sell cookbooks, here, but we do have an extensive collection of Dolly CDs, vinyl, and cassettes curated by yours truly to look for."

Option B Where: Walking around town

"So, what, exactly, are we supposed to do now?" Rae Elle mused to her companion, sticking her hands into her jacket as they walked. "Do we... stop lookin' for the people who did all this? Or just keep going about our business like things are back to normal now that Dhruv and Meena have been found?" Because it was good that they were found, certainly, but there was still plenty of shit to deal with in this town. The aftermath of Lorelai Cavanaugh's death, whatever was going on with that ritual, all the shit that had been made public about those kidnappings. "This town's wild. And I know wild, trust me. New Orleans's got nothin' on this shit."

[goldenavenger02]

Prompt: the rest of the ninja finding out about Cole and Geo's relationship. Fluff.

It is a LITTLE angsty. Just a little. I hope you enjoy

When Cole arrived in the courtyard with no warning, Kai wasn’t sure he had ever run faster.

Well, he was sure that he had run faster in stressful situations, but he hadn’t hugged Cole in so long; he was just glad that it felt the same, it felt warm and strong and safe. 

He didn’t want to let go, it had been years since he had seen him but he also knew that the same was true of Lloyd and Zane so he found himself letting go just a few moments later to let everyone else get their fill of hugs in.

Even Wyldfyre, who acted like a feral being towards everyone new and old, was even interested in Cole’s arrival to the point of asking multiple questions about the place Nya had said that she found him, The Land of Lost Things.

Kai didn’t miss the solemn, almost sad look on his face as he spoke about where he had ended up after The Merge. A look he hadn’t seen in years, not since Shintaro.

But the look faded when the subject was changed to Lloyd explaining how the Mergequakes were stopped and everything returned to the happy, bubbly energy that had filled the monastery since Kai had returned.

And as Cole came into his room hours later and laid on the mostly clean floor, Kai was baffled by how everything felt so close to normal, to how it had been after they had defeated the Crystal King.

All that was missing was Jay lounging in the bean bag chair in the corner and playing some sort of Sonic game, only responding to every third sentence and being thoroughly confused when they laughed at his lack of context.

“Has Lloyd started acting as stuffy as Master Wu yet?”

“Nah. He tried to keep the whole monastery in order and broke a bunch of plates in the process.”

“Anger issues?”

“Nah, they fell out of the sink,” Cole’s laugh was infectious and filled Kai’s chest to the point where it hurt long after it faded into giggles that punctured his next sentence, “he’s doing his best, but he’s still Lloyd.”

“That’s good, I think,” Cole mused before sitting up and looking directly into Kai’s eyes, “do you still make edibles and hide them under your bed?”

“Even if I did,” Kai started, smiling as the famous incident of everyone taking his brownies that were just meant for when the long nights got too long and resulting in him simultaneously getting banned from the kitchen unless there was his mother’s or one of Zane’s cookbooks involved came to mind, “there’s that dragon, Riyu. He’ll eat them and either be high off of his ass or vomit on my bed.”

“He’s eaten your edibles before?”

“He’s eaten so many things that he shouldn’t and for some reason, my bed has to be where he gets rid of it,” Kai corrected before laying back down, “do you still have that bottle of fireball in your room?”

“That shit has to be rancid by now, it was opened before the Merge,” Cole shook his head, also laying back down and staring at the ceiling, “I suppose I could always go and get more tomorrow though.”

“We’re a bit old to hide edibles and alcohol in our rooms, I think. Lloyd’s even old enough to drink now.”

“Remind me to take the kid to a bar and make sure he’s not taking straight shots of vodka.”

“Noted.” Kai agreed, even if the idea of Lloyd drinking forced him to slip into the protective role he was so used to when it came to the green ninja.

“Besides, even if Lloyd’s old enough to drink, Sora, Arin and the feral one, they’re still kids. Not to mention the dragon who pukes in your bed.”

“Her name is Wyldfyre, and that was actually way different for her, since she’s usually trying to light things on fire or prove she’s the best. She was raised by a dragon, manners aren’t exactly her thing.”

“She sounds a lot like you.”

“I wasn’t raised by a dragon.”

“No, you were raised by yourself, which might be worse.”

Kai threw a pillow at Cole’s face; the pillow he threw back knocked him onto the floor tailbone first.

“Ouch.”

“You good?”

“Yep, just a sore ass,” Kai confirmed as he maneuvered onto his back and laid next to Cole, the sounds of their breathing filling the silence, “Nya told us when she got back, about the Finders.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah, the Formling and the Hypnobri kids, and the Munce and the Skulkin who are our age,” Kai could have sworn that he saw a blush spread across Cole’s face at the mention of the Munce, “do you wanna tell me about them?”

“Fritz, the Formling, reminds me a lot of Lloyd when he was a kid. Adventurous, kind and pokes his nose where it doesn’t belong. Spitz is much more reserved and shy, but loves playing with Fritz and gets himself into trouble a lot because of it. Bonzal…well, I’ve known her for years, but she isn’t very forthcoming. She’s got a great sense of humor though, crochets a lot of blankets and also collects bones.”

“Why?”

“Whenever you ask, she just says they’re extremely useful; but, she wouldn’t hurt a fly so I’m not worried about it.”

“Okay,” Kai nodded while trying to get back on topic, but when he asked “what about the Munce?” he was able to guess why Cole’s cheeks flushed at the mention even before he started speaking.

“Geo. He’s the elemental master of fusion, he turns lost things into these large art sculptures. He’s good with the boys, he makes sure that they’re always taken care of, no matter what. He’s the only one who can get Bonzal to say more than a few sentences. He’s so caring, and funny and…he might be one of the best things that’s ever happened to me.”

“He sounds great,” Kai agreed with a nod before asking, “so, why didn’t you bring them with you? Because the monastery is big-”

“It wasn’t a space issue. First Master, I wish it was a space issue,” Cole’s voice filling with tears made Kai’s heart pang with regret, “whenever they tried to leave, this fog would engulf them and lead them back. They had been forgotten for so long that they couldn’t leave. I only left because I thought I heard Master Wu…but it just led me here.”

Kai reached over and pulled Cole into a hug; he had needed the hug when he finally returned, but given how he tucked his head against his shoulder, he knew that it was Cole who needed a hug now.

They stayed like that until Cole finally spoke again, the sobs evident in his voice as he kept his face pressed against Kai’s shoulder.

“I…I miss them so much.”

“Hey,” Kai finally spoke and cupped a hand around Cole’s face to brush a few tears off of his cheeks, “we found Nya, we found Zane and we found you. We’ll get the others out of there and we’ll find Jay, PIXAL and Master Wu.”

“I know,” Cole agreed, taking in a shuddering breath while wiping his face on his sleeve, “it’s just really gonna suck until we do.”

[camisoledadparis]

Salvador Dali's surreal cookbook 'Les diners de Gala' is uniquely dedicated to the pleasures of taste.

"If you are a disciple of one of those calorie counters who turn the joys of eating into a form of punishment, close this book at once; it is too lively, too aggressive and far too rude for you." - Salvador Dali.

Food and surrealism are perfect bedfellows.

Sex and lobsters, collage and cannibalism, the meeting between a swan and a toothbrush in a pastry shop.

The lavish dinner parties hosted by Salvador Dali (1904-1989) and his wife and muse Gala (1894-1982) were legendary.

Luckily for us, Dali published a cookbook in 1973, 'Les diners de Gala', which reveals some of the sensual, imaginative and exotic elements that made up their infamous gatherings.

The illustrations and recipes are accompanied by Dali's extravagant musings on subjects such as dinner conversation.

"The jaw is our best tool for understanding philosophical knowledge".

All of these rich recipes can be prepared at home, although some will require practiced skills and a well-stocked pantry.

This is old-school cuisine, with meals by leading French chefs from such star restaurants in Paris as Lasserre, La Tour d Argent, Maxim's and Le Train Bleu.

Good taste, however voluptuous - never goes out of style.

Salvador Dali