#Butter Lettuce Party

[sirartwork]

your butter lettuce video fundamentally changed me as a person and now im into big weird white guys

5 foot 8 is not "big," but I'm definitely weird and white.

[fuckyeahdindjarin]

II ║ Threads

Joel Miller x F!Reader

{ Part I: Seams | Series Masterlist | Main Masterlist }

Rating: M

Summary: When Joel revisits Main Street Outfitters two weeks later, he finds you on your knees. Again.

Warnings: Very spicy thoughts but not explicit, sexual tension, sexual innuendos, some language, shy!reader, reader has a nickname related to her job, soft!Joel, no use of Y/N

Word count: 4.3k

Notes: This crept up on me and happened just as I was finishing up edits. I am so grateful, and I hope Threads is a fitting thank you gift to you all 😘 I’m thinking about doing a sleepover celebration, we shall see!

Joel and Pin are back ❤️ They're back because you guys have been so generous with your love, sending me so many ideas and hyping me up - I can't thank you all enough! This chapter is all thanks to Singer machine anon who bravely (affectionate 😉) shared their story of getting stuck under a sewing machine table. I hope you enjoy this one!

A treadle sewing machine is powered mechanically by a foot pedal that is pushed back and forth by the operator's foot. 

If you're not familiar, here is a classic Singer treadle cabinet, which is no way big enough for the purposes of this story, so please exercise your imagination 😉

Joel hovers outside the Jackson Grocer’s, arms crossed, trying to make himself look as inconspicuous as possible in front of the leafy display of butter lettuce heads.

It’s been a few months since he’s settled in, but sometimes he can’t get over how fucking nuts this place is. Looking at the shelves brimming with fresh fruits and vegetables outside, canned food and home goods inside, he could easily be standing outside the 24/7 mart in his old neighbourhood. There are even shopping baskets, for crying out loud - stacked neatly one on top of the other by the door.

A voice pipes up from his left. ‘Didn’t know you ate greens.’

Joel scowls. ‘I don’t.’

‘Why are you loiterin’, then?’ asks Tommy, picking up a couple of apples and examining them with exaggerated care.

‘I’m not loiterin’,’ he spits out the last word as if he’s above it, turning his gaze to the high street. 

Tommy tosses him a cocky grin, head tilted at a knowing angle. ‘Yeah, you are. And now you’re makin’ eyes at Bob. It’s disturbin’.’

Glancing across the main thoroughfare at the welder’s shop, where the said proprietor is cutting up wooden planks on the porch, Joel grumbles sarcastically, ‘That’s right. Bob is just my type.’

At that very moment, right next to Bob's, the door of Main Street Outfitters creaks open, and Joel recognises Lucy instantly as she sneaks out on tiptoes. She skips down the stairs and wanders up the street in what appears to be another impromptu work break.

Joel’s already taken two steps towards the shop before he remembers that he’s not alone. Braking abruptly and bringing up one hand to scratch the back of his neck, he feels Tommy’s eyes on him.

He half-turns, and snaps, ‘What?’

The younger Miller brother shrugs, pursing his lips thoughtfully. ‘Why are you going to the Outfitters again? Didn’t you just get those new jeans a couple of weeks ago?’

‘Thought I’d get a new shirt for your stupid baby shower.’

‘Joel -’

‘Sorry, sorry.’ He throws his hands up in capitulation. ‘Baby showers are not stupid. Especially in the middle of an apocalypse.’

Taking another two steps forward, a thought stops him dead in his tracks again. He can practically feel Tommy smiling smugly at his back.

For fuck’s sake.

He doesn’t turn around this time, jamming his hands into his pockets and asks, ‘Can I bring someone? To the party?’

‘We know Ellie’s comin’.’

Whipping around, he growls, ‘Tommy -’

He laughs. ‘Well, I’ll be damned. Joel Miller makin’ friends in town? Maria’s right - you’re fittin’ right in, big brother.’

Rolling his eyes, Joel flips him off and stomps his way across the street.

Tommy calls out at his retreating back. ‘Say hello to Pin and tell her we’d love to have her come over on Sunday!’

When he steps inside, the shop is as empty as it was a fortnight ago. Joel shuts the door firmly, making sure the bell jingles, so his entry doesn’t go unnoticed.

Your voice, though muffled, comes promptly. ‘Lucy! Is that you?’

He heads towards the doorway that leads to the workshop. ‘It’s Joel, actually.’

‘Oh, shit!’

His eyebrows reach for his hairline - you don’t seem to be the type to curse. Concerned, he asks, ‘You alright back there?’

There’s a touch of panic in your reply, ‘Don’t come back here. Did Lucy sneak out again?’

On your instruction, Joel hesitates in the middle of the room, talking to air. ‘Yeah, saw her leave a couple of minutes ago.’

‘Goddamnit, Lucy!’

He shuffles his feet awkwardly. ‘Uh, you sure you’re ok? Should I come back later?’

There’s a resigned sigh, then a pause. ‘Promise you won’t laugh.’

One end of his lips tugs upwards in a smile. ‘Why would I?’

‘Promise.’

At your insistence, he humours you, ‘Alright, I promise, sweetheart.’

‘Come on back.’

When he steps into the workshop, he doesn’t spot you immediately. The space is seemingly empty, everything standing still and in order. He sweeps his eyes across the room, starting with the shelving unit and the desk along the near wall, then trailing over the large timber work table in the middle, where a stack of folded shirts stands neatly.

His throat isn’t the only thing that tightens when he glances at the rug under the skylight -

‘Joel?’

Your voice draws his attention to the far corner of the room, where a sewing station is tucked into a little alcove.

Joel doesn’t know much about sewing machines, but he can recognise a vintage Singer anywhere even without the name blazoned across its elegant body. His grandmother had one in her drawing room by a sunny bay window, and he used to watch her work on it when he visited every other weekend. For a disorienting second, he can almost smell homemade cinnamon rolls and black tea.

Little did he know that things were about to get a lot more disorienting than a pleasant childhood memory.

As he steps around the work table, the rest of the sewing station comes into view, fronted by a big window, the light streaming through the glass glancing off the black sewing machine on top of a classic treadle cabinet. What looks like a half-finished dress lies on the wooden work surface, which stands on quintessential wrought metal legs, and between them - his throat constricts with a slow swallow when he realises what - or rather, who - he’s looking at.

The words barely come out, as if his tongue is suddenly too big for his mouth, as he makes his presence known. ‘I’m here, sweetheart.’

To be fair, you’re not making things easy by any means. All he can see is your backside hovering in mid-air, the rest of you out of sight under the desk. It has built-in cabinets on each end, the right side of it backed up against the far wall, and a chair is pushed to the side.

Joel stops two measured paces away, staring down at the curve of your ass and the way your top rides up, baring the small of your back. His eyes linger on the soft skin between the shirt’s hem and the waistband of your very tight jeans.

Jesus Christ. Do you always have to be on your fucking knees in this workshop?

Your small voice jolts him from his daze. ‘Well, at least you’re not laughing.’

He has to bite his tongue to stop himself from scoffing. If only you knew how laughing is the furthest thing on his mind right now. ‘What happened?’

‘A spool rolled off and I went down to get it, but I fell on the treadle accidentally - I think my shirt is snagged in the band wheel. I can’t move at all, and this Singer is an antique - I can't risk breaking it.’

Unfamiliar with what you’re talking about, he probes, ‘And where’s the band wheel?’

‘Under the table, on my right.’

You wriggle your hips, perhaps to help him locate where you’re stuck, unaware that you’re not helping. At all. 

He swallows thickly and implores you, ‘Stay still, sweetheart. I’ll take a look.’

It’s been two whole weeks since Joel Miller came into the shop. You’ve caught glimpses of him in between - Jackson is tiny, after all. He catches your eye as he ambles down the high street with Ellie, his gruff Southern accent carrying even in the mid-afternoon bustle, too preoccupied arguing with the teenager to notice you on the other side of the road. He’s in the cafeteria a couple of times when you arrive for a late dinner, nodding at you from a few tables over, while you work up the nerve to smile back.

Every time, he’s wearing the jeans you handpicked for him, which makes your chest swell and constrict at the same time with something like - pride.

You picked out the pair for him. You assured him that he looks good. And by the way he’s wearing his confidence on his sleeve, he’s certainly taken your words to heart. 

Whenever you see other women eyeing him as he struts about town - which is entirely too often - it awakens an ugly possessiveness in you, one that twists your insides into grotesque balloon animals.

Fourteen damn days. Even in the privacy of your workshop, you can’t escape that man. The simple touch of denim provokes a visceral reaction from you, heat chases beneath your skin every time you pick up the tailor’s scissors. It doesn’t help that most of your daily tasks are not exactly cerebral, which gives this man all the more leeway to lay claim to your subconscious.

If you believed in magic, you would've thought you summoned him with the sheer energy you’ve spent thinking about him. But what kind of witchcraft conjured him up at the precise moment you get trapped like the bumbling idiot that you are?

One minute you’re reaching for the stupid thread, the next thing you know, you’re stuck, unable to move without the mechanisms of the antique Singer groaning ominously at your attempts to free yourself.

But maybe, it’s still better than Lucy finding you. She’d take a hammer to the sewing machine to get you out, no question - patience is not her strong suit - and she’d be laughing at you for days.

You hear the floorboards give behind you as Joel moves into the space, which isn’t much - when you’re sat down at the treadle cabinet, the wall is barely two steps behind.

The wooden table creaks above you as he braces one hand on the surface, and you startle at what sounds like the vicious crack of a vertebra.

‘Um - you okay?’

Joel grunts. ‘I’ll live.’

So you wait, thinking absent-mindedly how your elbows are starting to get numb. There’s a scruff of boots and what sounds like a brief struggle, before Joel sighs. ‘Back’s too stiff ‘mfraid. Gotta get on the floor to see underneath.’

Before you can squeak out a reply, there’s a boney click of what you presume is his knees as he crouches down, and an unexpected brush of denim on your left ankle surprises you. Forgetting where you are, you jump in reflex, hitting the underside of the table so hard that you screech in pain.

‘Shit!’ Joel cusses behind you, one warm hand landing on the side of your hip to steady you. ‘You ok?’

Up until this point, you’ve been too consumed with embarrassment by your predicament to even think about the position Joel found you in. But once the warm imprint of his palm registers through the denim, it hits you like one of those interstate trucks that you used to see out of your window.

You’re leaning on your forearms, ass in the air, and now - he’s behind you, getting onto his knees. You can’t decide if the back of your head or your pussy is throbbing harder as you stutter, ‘I’m fine, just - get me out, please.’

‘Alright, hang on, sweetheart.’

You swallow the childish urge to stamp your foot. He has no right going around dropping sweethearts all over the place.

There’s a throaty exhale as Joel lowers himself onto the floor, his knees bracketing yours to shift closer to you. You know he feels the shudder that chases down your spine when soft flannel grazes your bare back, heat spilling from his solid frame as he looms over you.

‘You say you’re stuck in the band wheel?’

Somehow, you manage to answer, ‘Yeah, to my right.’

He clears his throat. ‘I - uh - I’ll have to lean down pretty close to you to take a look, is that ok?’

You feel all the air leave your body, which is probably why your reply comes out far breathier than you intend it to. ‘Yes, Joel.’

And with those two words, Joel has a problem with his jeans. Again.

They’re too tight. Again.

There’s nothing he can do as his mouth goes dry and his cock hardens with a vengeance, his self-control slipping like sand between his fingers.

He was doing so good - well, he was more or less holding it together, as much as he could be expected to while kneeling behind you. And of course, his damn knees hurt, but so does his bottom lip which is caught in his teeth, trying to regulate his breathing when his heart threatens to beat right out of his chest. 

He already has one hand on you, and goddamnit, it’s taking him all he’s got to hold back from gripping you with his other, to grasp the swell of your ass between his palms, to trace your curves up to the dip of your exposed waist, to bow his head and run his tongue along the arc of your spine -

And the jeans you’re wearing - fuck, they’re tight. He wonders idly if you wore them for him. His eyes follow the seam that runs down the cleft of your ass, the way the pockets stretch over your backside has his fingers twitching, thinking about how well you will fill his hands, and how the slow rub of denim will burn his skin.

He wants to hook his thumbs into the belt loops and pull you flush against the zipper of his jeans, where his cock is straining against - rub himself on you, grind on you, his thighs plastered to the back of yours -

‘Joel?’

Fuck.

He sways as he snaps out of his stupor, dangerously close to knocking into you, light-headed from the lack of blood to his brain. He chokes out, ‘Yeah, I got you, sweetheart.’

Get it together, you dirty bastard.

He’s careful to leave a couple of inches between his front and your ass when he bends his elbows and ducks so he can peer beneath the desk. His chest pressed flat against your lower back, he can see the bunched fabric of your shirt where it’s caught.

‘Yup, you’re right, your shirt is snagged tight in there.’

‘Can you untangle it?’

‘Think so, but I’ll need both hands.’ He pauses. ‘I’d better get on my back under you.’

You swear you’re going to black out.

‘Pin?’ he prompts when you’ve been quiet a beat too long.

‘I - um, what do you mean by going under me?’

‘If I’m on my back, I can use both my hands, like a mechanic under a car,’ he explains. ‘If you’re uncomfortable, I can find another way -’

‘No!’ you blurt out, wincing at the desperation in your tone. ‘I mean - whatever is easiest for you. You’re the one doing me a favour here.’

‘Alright,’ he says, placated by your reassurance. ‘On your hands and knees then, sweetheart.’

Your eyes nearly roll to the back of your head. Oh, come on. Can he hear himself?

Scraping together your last vestiges of control, you push up on your palms to make space underneath you. You have to consciously lock your elbows - your joints suddenly feel like barely set pudding. 

‘Move as far to your right as possible so I can slide in.’

Shuffling on your hands and knees until you’re pressed up against the band wheel, you hear the brush of fabric on wood - must be his back against the floorboards as he slides in. To say it’s a squeeze is an understatement. His broad shoulders brush the front of your thighs as he inches in, and then, his face appears under yours, head between your hands.

His lips quirk. ‘Hi, sweetheart.’

Your breath hitches at his proximity, your wrists brushing the soft red flannel he’s wearing today. ‘Hi.’

‘You ok?’ he asks.

You’re this close to pouting. What does he think? There’s a telltale stickiness between your legs that you’re frantically trying to push to the back of your mind while you mmhmm noncommittally, hoping that he doesn’t smell your want in the tiny, claustrophobic space you’re now both caught in.

You can only assume that he’s none the wiser, since the next thing that comes of his mouth is - 

‘Climb on top of me so I can slide in closer to the band wheel.’

Someone might as well say your last rites. This is the end.

You’re taken aback when your limbs start to move on autopilot, because your faculties have well and truly abandoned ship. One trembling leg attempts to swing itself over the solid breadth of his body, but it wobbles like jelly, and your knee ends up connecting firmly with his stomach instead of landing clear on his other side.

At his grunted oomph, you panic and bang your head on the underside of the table again, which sends your whole weight sprawling onto his front with a yelp.

Joel cradles the back of your scalp with one hand. ‘Shit, you ok, sweetheart?’

The seams of your lashes sting, your head smarting with the impact, and you blink drily as your gaze focuses on Joel under you. He’s so close that you can see flecks of gold in his brown eyes, his breath hitting your face in warm puffs. Your glance at his lips, and with that one little motion, all goes quiet.

He watches you back, neither of you breathing, and in the stillness you realise that you’re fully straddling him, your palms pressing into the hard floor on either side of his ears. Your tits are crushed up against his ribs, his soft tummy warmly cushioned under you. Lower still, where your hips are nestled into the spread of his thick thighs, something stiff and long and insistent presses into you -

Your jaw goes slack when it dawns on you. 

Oh god.

He’s hard.

‘I’m so sorry,’ Joel breaks the silence, a pained frown on his brow as he shakes his head. ‘This is embarrassin’. Couldn’t fuckin’ help it, seein’ you in those jeans -’

Tongue-tied, you can only stare at him, wishing you were brave enough to say something. Tell him that you pulled extra shifts to buy this particular pair of jeans, knowing that they flatter your figure. That you’ve worn them almost every day these two weeks, hoping that he’d swing by again. 

But you can’t. 

So you pray that he can see what you can’t say by the way you’re looking at him, by the way your heart races wildly in your ribcage against his chest.

His voice cracks. ‘I understand if you want me to go -’

You unstick your tongue from the roof of your mouth and cut in, ‘Don’t.’

His warm eyes widen, something like hopefulness in the way he looks up at you. ‘You don’t want me to go?’

You press your body closer into his, filling in the gaps. ‘No. Please don’t, Joel.’

He leans forward, so close that you can feel the phantom burn of his silvered beard, his palms finding the meat of your legs, blunt nails biting into the denim.

He really should be ashamed of himself, at the way his cock pulses unabashedly, nudged right between your thighs as you stare down at him, lips parted. He’s hard enough that he worries if there’s a wet spot of precum on the front of his jeans - he can feel himself leaking through his boxers. 

The wicked tip of your tongue traces a wet trail on your bottom lip, and he almost chokes on a half-buried groan deep in his chest. He knows that you don’t even know you’re doing it - and in turn, what that does to him.

It would be easy to close the two-inch gap between you. To kiss you, taste you, lick into your sweet mouth. All he needs to do is to cup the back of your head and pull you down, or crane his neck and press his lips to yours -

And Joel is someone who always follows the path of least resistance. 

But - he wants to do right by you. He knows you deserve more than a quick fumble under a table.

Sucking in a shaky breath, Joel steels himself and brushes a chaste thumb over your cheekbone. ‘Let’s get you out of here, and then we can talk, ok?’

It’s almost perverse the way his chest warms at the flicker of disappointment in your eyes as you give a reluctant nod, ‘Ok. Please be careful, the Singer’s really delicate.’

It’s hard to focus - his attention keeps drifting to how snugly you fit into his chest, between his arms, and it’s not a stretch to imagine a soft mattress underneath his back. It's funny how quickly his body has adjusted to creature comforts after months of sleeping on the cold winter ground.

Joel’s mindful that an antique sewing machine will be a pain in the ass to repair without the requisite parts, so he moves carefully, gently coaxing the band wheel back and forth to see how he can extract you. It doesn’t take long to loosen the grip of the metal teeth on your shirt, but he has to reach up and untangle the threads snagged into the mechanisms one by one.

He muses idly that this is not his method. These hands of his, with crooked knuckles that never healed right, where many a dagger, knife, gun, rifle have found a home - they break things, people.

When was the last time someone asked gentleness of him? 

He wants to scoff. That’s not what he’s good for.

Despite himself, his throat rumbles with a hum of satisfaction when the band wheel finally lets go of your shirt, the Singer whirring to life as it spins freely. He gives you a lopsided smile. ‘There you go, sweetheart.’

You smile, but don’t seem to be in a hurry to move, which pleases him. He likes looking at you from this angle, relishing in your weight on him. He takes his time running his eyes over your face, his palms coming to rest on your knees.

You duck your head prettily. ‘Thank you, Joel.'

He gives you a playful shrug. ‘Well, I owed you one for these jeans.’

You roll your eyes in good humour. ‘Actually, I told you specifically that you didn’t.’

Joel basks in the lighthearted turn in the conversation, egging you on, ‘Well, in that case, you owe me one for this instead.’

‘That’s hardly fair -’ you chide him, punching him in the shoulder in a half-hearted rebuke.

Taking the opportunity, he grabs you by the wrist, the contact prompting a bodily shudder from you that he doesn’t miss. He smirks, ‘M’fraid I don’t play fair, sweetheart.’

You glare at him in mock sternness, bold enough to demand, ‘Fine - what do you want then, Joel Miller?’

For a split second, he hesitates, woefully out of practice at whatever it is that he’s about to do. Swallowing his self-doubt, he asks, ‘Tommy and Maria are throwing a baby shower on Sunday at their house - do you want to come?’

Your shoulders stiffen. Now, that you were not expecting. Your social anxiety bubbles between your ribs and looms over you like a spector. You sputter, ‘Um, I -’

You start when his fingers draw soothing circles on the top of your knees, as if seeing straight through the source of your apprehension. He reassures you, ‘Lucy is welcome to join too. The more the merrier.’

Your eyes soften. ‘Ok. I’d love to.’

The endearing way the corners of his eyes crinkle as he smiles has you swaying towards him, his nose just brushing the side of yours - when the doorbell rings, cutting through the loaded silence. 

In your haste to sit up, you knock your head against the table for a third time. 

‘Ow!’ you cry. Even Joel flinches at the hard hit.

Lucy calls out, sounding dangerously close. ‘Pin? You ok, hon?’

‘Shit!’ You start scrambling backwards, bent over awkwardly, convinced that you’re one more blow away from a concussion. You’ve barely scrambled onto your feet when Lucy steps into the workshop, the world tilting on its axis for a moment as blood rushes to your brain. 

She watches in amusement as Joel drags himself from under the sewing station, head cocked to one side. ‘Hi again, stranger. You really like our shop, don’t you?’

His shirt is rumpled from where you sat on him, bits of his curls sticking up. He rubs the back of his neck, as if caught with his hand in the cookie jar. ‘I just swung by to, uh, invite you and Pin to the baby shower. Tommy and Maria’s. This Sunday.’

Lucy crosses her arms, arching an eyebrow. ‘And it’s a tradition where you’re from to talk about weekend plans under a table?’

You narrow your eyes at her. ‘Luce -’

She winks. ‘You know what? I don’t need to know the gory details - but I’m in. See you Sunday, Miller!’

Joel huffs a chuckle as Lucy disappears into the front of the shop, leaving you two alone. You smile, suddenly shy for no reason, twining your fingers to stop from fidgeting. ‘Thanks again, Joel.’

He shrugs it off, a touch of boldness in the way he stands, hands in pockets, hips cocked. ‘Pleasure was all mine, sweetheart.’

Instead of heading in the direction of the door, he takes two long strides towards you, leaning down to murmur in your ear, ‘Wear those jeans for me again on Sunday?’

Stunned, you gape at him as he turns with a crooked grin and walks off, dispatching a two-fingered salute at Lucy as he goes. Pausing by the threshold, Joel gives you one last wink that has your breath stuttering - but you only allow yourself to sag against the wall when the door closes behind him, your knees giving.

Lucy wastes no time skipping back into the workshop, practically bouncing on the balls of her feet in excitement. ‘Alright, time to raid the party clothes rack, girl!’

You laugh - Sunday can’t come fast enough.

Notes: I had the best time writing this chapter - it was fun to flip the tables on Pin, not that Joel comes out completely unscathed!

I definitely have ✨ideas✨ for these two, but I'm enjoying keeping things loose, so I have no plans to turn this into a full-blown series just yet. I hope you enjoyed this instalment, comments/reblogs/asks are so so appreciated as always ❤️

[slut4sugu]

❝DOPE AND DIAMONDS ! ❞

! 𓈒ㅤׂㅤ𐙚 ࣪ ⭒ [ ft! ] geto suguru x black!femreader ! 𓈒ㅤׂㅤ𐙚 ࣪ ⭒ [ content warnings ! ] college!au, black!fem reader, mentions of weed, plug!geto, mutual pining, reader has an earthy aesthetic

PLUG!GETO who saw you leaning against a wall sipping on something in a red solo cup, with a long pink ruffled skirt resting low in your hips. Accompanied by a a white lettuce long sleeve crop top, which complimented your ebony skin. That glowed as you effortlessly captivated everyone who met your gaze. “You’re staringggg suguruuuu, she’s hot but you migh scare her off like that.” “she doesn’t look like one to be scared easily, if she was do you think I’d be interested?”

PLUG!GETO who made his way over to you at the bar after you had ordered another drink, “You seem quite bored here despite looking stunning for a college party.” The deep yet gentle voice caught you off guard, looking over to your left side you saw him. Long dark hair, half lidded eyes, a gentle smile graced on his handsome features. The faint smell of weed and cologne made your heart flutter. “Well I like dolling myself up from time to time even if the place I’m going to isn’t worth my presence.”

PLUG!GETO who let out an airy laugh at this, “really then? Well do you wanna get out of here?” Your interested peaked in this guy, his calm reassuring voice, and his alluring aura was strangely comforting. Unlike many other guys who had attempted to hit on you, “maybe, what’s your name stranger?” You asked with a slightly flirtatious tone, as a smile tugged at the corners of your lips. “Suguru geto.”

PLUG!GETO who led you to his dorm, which was nice and clean • before shutting the door behind him and calmly asking you if you smoked weed and told you it was more than okay if you didn’t. but when you did the slight smirk that crept into his face was so attractive. “Wanna try something pretty?”

PLUG!GETO who helped you through your coughing fit after your took a hit • rubbing your back in small circles “this isn’t normal stuff yknow, are you sure you can handle it pretty?” You hummed in response, as you leaned on his shoulder. Feeling small next to him as you felt his eyes scan you over, your pretty knitted top exposing the top of your breasts which looked so delicious. The sweet and natural smell of shea butter and strawberries on your skin was intoxicating, you were a dangerous thing. It would be so easy to take you like this, to hear your pretty voice moan out in pleasure as he sucked and nibbled on your nipples- “what made you wanna come talk to me?” You asked in a soft voice as you sat up, squeezing your thighs together underneath your skirt. Looking up at him with those big pretty brown doe eyes was unfair. “To be honest—“ he ran this thumb across your bottom lip “—I thought you were too pretty to be left alone.” His low eyes locked down on yours, you felt the atmosphere grow thick as your heart thumped in your chest. You felt everything slow and your body grow warm, eyes flickered from his lips back up to his pretty eyes. “Really? I think you’re pretty too.” You slurred, before closing the gap between you two.

PLUG!GETO who was surprised that you made the first move • he was normally used to girls wanting him to be the dominant one and take the lead, which wasn’t a problem but it was a bit boring. You however weren’t in the slightest, everything about you had geto wanting to know more. The weed in his system started to take effect right after you kissed him, almost as if your kisses were acting as a drug.

PLUG!GETO who was shocked that a groan almost left his lips • who was shocked that a groan almost left his lips when you pulled back from the heated make out session to answer your ringing phone. The feeling of your soft lips mashed into his was almost euphoric? He blamed it on he drugs for the moment but seeing your pink tinted lipgloss ruined was adorable. “Sorry, it’s yuki. She’s prolly too drunk to think Straight and i gotta order a her ride back to her boyfriends place.” You explained to Geto, who for some reason couldn’t get enough of your sweet voice talking to him so softly. “Alright, I’ll come with you. Satoru most likely had more than enough drinks tonight as well.”

PLUG!GETO who walked you out of his dorm and back to the party downstairs • watching how your hips would sway when you walk, your pretty curled micro braids styled in a two low buns, you were enchanting. How had he not noticed you before? As you opened the doors to the vacant longue where the party was being held you saw yuki chugging a whiskey a booth bottle. “Oh my god- Yuki what the hell?” You quickly said sorry and excused yourself from geto before swiping the bottle from your friends hand and setting it on the nearby bar table. “I’m gonna ban you from going to parties if you keep getting hammered like this.” You scolded her, who whined and groaned at your lecture. “You’re such a mommmm.”

PLUG!GETO who was amused to see you be so caring and motherly around your friends • as he saw you pull out your phone to order your friend an Uber, you heard his voice say, “I’ll order the Uber, something tells me you’ve done this before.” As you turn to look to your right, you saw geto look at you with a small sincere smile and it made your heart flutter. So you smiles back, “thank you..suguru.” Your eyes flickered from his lips briefly to his eyes, “Of course, now..do you still plan on staying a bit longer?

[alwaysjustjay]

Shrimp Lettuce Cups

Jumbo shrimp on butter lettuce with thai red chilies, cucumbers, green onions, carrot slices, thai basil and peanut sauce.

Recipe Information:

Menu Category - Appetizers

Required Ingredients - Carrot, Crawdad, Lettuce, Herb

Prepped Ingredient - Veggies

Skill - Homestyle 1

Serving Sizes - Party, Family, Single

Restrictions - Vegetarian-Safe and Lactose-Free

Compatibility - Base Game Compatible, Simple Living, Dine Out Restaurant Menu, Group Cooking, Home Chef Hustle, Off-The-Grid

*Requires the current version of my food enabler mod*

Download Here!

[deedala]

✨weekly tag wednesday✨

--------------------

5 questions + 1 emoji:

do you like cooking and/or baking? no!

what is your favorite dish to make at home? salad. i love just microwaving anything and plopping on top of a bowl of romaine lettuce. quorn nuggets and olives, sometimes fried rice, sometimes a plant protein spaghetti? you can put anything on top of lettuce.

is there a seasonal (whatever season it is for you right now) food that you often make this time of year? i make peppermint candy cane shaped cookies every christmas, it's like my *one* thing lol

is there a particular drink you like during this season? the last couple years i've been able to buy some really tasty oat nog at my grocery store! so that's been nice.

are there any regional dishes that are popular in your area this time of year? if so is it a 👍 or 👎 for you? buckeyes are a candy that are a popular treat to have around here during the holiday season. they're literally a ball of peanut butter dipped in chocolate so yeah its a resounding 👍 from me!!

--------------------

xoxo friends, come play if you wanna!! tags below!

@suzy-queued @energievie @michellemisfit @too-schoolforcool @gardenerian

@blue-disco-lights @callivich @jrooc @creepkinginc @palepinkgoat

@7x10mickey @gallawitchxx @salesmain @gallapiech @thepupperino

@captainjowl @the-rat-wins @loftec @wehangout @mmmichyyy

@crossmydna @spoonfulstar @echotrees @gallavich-annise @takeyourpillsbitchh

@sgtmickeyslaughter @heymrspatel @darlingian @sleepyfacetoughguy @ian-galagher

@femboymilkovich @sickness-health-all-that-shit @sam-loves-seb @samantitheos @rereadanon

@purplemagpie @catgrassplantdad @lingy910y @spookygingerr @c-nord

@transmickey @vintagelacerosette @mybrainismelted @howlinchickhowl @kiennilove

@iansw0rld @whatwouldmickeydo @themarchg1rl @softmick @stocious

+ anyone else because oh my god it wont let me tag anyone else 🥲

(🎄also hey hi buds while i'm already tagging you all here is my tree if you're doing the shamey tree party this year🎄)

[schlattslonghairytoes]

chapter five

real life!

talia

I haven't even been here for a full day and I've been grocery shopping two times. everyone wants to film a youtube video before the misfits party tomorrow so they sent me to get all the food for the video, 'swell as more food for the house

im still thinking about me and schlatts conversation last night, I feel like I fell right back into what we used to be, its like my mind is forgetting how bad he hurt me, betrayed me even, and it seems like he doesn't even feel bad, or remember it ever happened.

ugh he makes me feel like im going crazy. when I get to the store I get out and look for a cart, cooper is going to text me the list so I can get everything.

iMessage!

coopdawg🐶

hi taliiii

ok so heres the list

gummy bears (for me)

flour

sticks

lots of butter

apples

carrots 

eggs

steak

string

lettuce

and

milk

thats it!😄

ok sounds good

you sure that's everything?

yup!

it wasn't everything. I had to go back and forth to the grocery store three times. im so done already. when I finally get back to the house with everything I call everyone down to get the stuff, I am not carrying all that in. a mister schlatt comes running out the door.

"I am here my lady where are the bags?" he was never good at British accents. "its all in the back." I respond. schlatt goes to grab the bags when the rest of the boys come filing out of the house, so I leave them to get the bags.

I walk back inside and settle on the couch so they can start setting up and filming, I also have to make a cake that looks like the Minecraft one later so I decide to just rest for a bit. im barely listening when they start the video

that is until ted walks over to me with a apple covered in butter and tells me "talia your health is going down fast, you need this apple to replenish your hearts" he yells. "im ok, let me go ted it will be ok" I say dramatically falling off the couch 

"NO" Charlie screams running across the living room, "talia we need you to eat the apple, please we need someone to do the dishes!" he holds his hand on his heart. I was so close to hitting him when schlatt pipes up "is that a misogyny?" and I loose it.

im not really In the rest of the video till the very end when they finish their "cake" or whatever they want to call that. when I come out with a cake that actually looks like it could be in Minecraft and place it infront of schlatt like ted told me to.

ted hands me the camera and walks behind schlatt, "hey why don't you try this cake talia made." ted puts his hand on schlatts shoulder and whispers in his ear before staring into the camera looking like flynn rider. "this actually looks kinda good, fine ill try it." schlatt says.

but before he can even try it ted shoves schlatts head into the cake as hard as he can. as you can guess, schlatt was not very happy about that so I had to film schlatt throwing ted in the pool, and he even tried to get me to go in.

"do you wanna join him talia, you two were conspiring against me weren't you!" he walks toward the camera. "no! I swear ted didn't even tell me, schlatt stop!" and I start running, and schlatt kept chasing me for 5 minutes, no joke.

at the end of the video, there is a montage of him chasing me around the house to the fucking scooby doo music, taken by charlie I believe. I ran into my room and locked the door, but my dumbass forgot that our bathrooms connected. long story short, I ended up in the pool, but hey, so did schlatt

once we both dried off we kinda just sat outside on the chairs, in silence. it was nice, I thought more about the boy next to me, he made it hard for me to think with him so close, I wish nothing ever changed, I really wish our friendship stayed the same

"lets go inside" he walked me to my room, I said thank you before opening my door into my room, walking to my bed, and face planting on my pillow. I wasn't ready to be this close to him.

the next day!

twitter!

talia😩      @taliatalks4ever

ya'll ever get high off that za���

💬736       ♻️92     🤍12,386

load more replies...

@jjshlatty

no I am a holy man of god, I would never smoke the devils lettuce out of respect for my creator and his beliefs, watch out the hand of god will strike you down.

                  reply:

                  @taliatalks4ever

                           this u?

@user8214673

can u share? my dealer died.

real life!

third person

schlatt and talia sat in their respective rooms, getting ready for the misfits party tonight. they both had the other on their mind, schlatt more then talia.

talia asked hansum for a joint and he graciously said yes, so there she was smoking weed while listening to tyler the creator, getting ready for tonight. she hadn't hooked up with anyone in a while, not because no one wanted to, because she didn't want to. no one was up to her standards

only one man had ever been and he broke her heart, so she strayed away from hook ups and situationships. she wasn't willing to put herself through that, so she didn't. with one exception. 

when she was high she didn't care, anyone was good enough, whatever eased the pain of her heart a little bit more.

schlatt on the other hand, was the opposite, throughout high school he ran through girls everyday, hooking up but never anything more, it never went beyond that. at parties he only got with people drunk.

now he's too scared to repeat the mistake he made in high school, being too drunk and stupid.

he just wanted a drink and to observe, something most people don't know about schlatt, is he wanted to be a phycologist before the youtube stuff happened, his passion was helping others with their troubles, even if he couldn't solve his own. 

so now at most parties he sat, quietly, observing who liked who, who hated who, anything he could do to learn more about others, so that was his plan, a glass of whiskey and a comfy bean bag.

the party started in an hour and was roughly forty minutes away at the misfit house. the crew were splitting up into two cars, as there were only two designated drivers. Charlie and their cameraman max. it would be ted, maddie, charlie, talia and schlatt in one car, and max, hansum, cooper, travis and noah in the other car.

when the time came everyone got into their designated cars and they began the drive

real life!

schlatt's pov

we got in the car, me ted and maddie in the back and charlie and talia in the front. I had called shotgun but I remembered talia gets extremely car sick so I let her have this one. "who's on aux?" talia turned around and looked at me with her eyes hooded and one brow raised, Jesus she was baked, but she still looked beautiful.

"ill hop on it" ted grabbed the charger and plugged in his phone. "that's what she said." talia laughed before starting to cough hysterically. "you good?" I wrap my hand around the seat and pat her back.

"im good I swear, god I need some air." she rolls down her window and "she" by Tyler the creator starts playing. "hey take some insta pics for me" talia says before laying her head out the window and laughing. 

I lean out my window and take pictures of her laughing with the wind blowing through her hair. eventually she put her head back in the car and I sent her the pictures. I took really good ones, I was always her photographer.

"jay please tell me you got my good side, that angle is gonna make me look fat." talia lifted the phone from my hands and started to look through the pictures I took. I don't think she was overly pleased with them all being of my face. "god you suck." she laughs

"love you too." but she didn't know I meant it.

real life!

talia

we arrived at the party and I hear Disturbia by Rihanna blasting through the ceiling speakers, and my inner slut is clawing at the bars containing it. we all head over to where everyone else is and from what I can see (and smell) everyone here is already wasted and high.

I see schlatt go over to a girl in a corner and I roll my eyes, such a whore. tonight was not ment for me to mope around, anything me and schlatt might of had in the past, is done.

our lips moved at a feverous pace, hands exploring each other like never before. smoke lingering from our forgotten blunts, his mouth moving down to my neck and planting itself there. I grab his shirt and stretch it over his head, I slide my hands to his hair and tug lightly.

"fuck talia" he whimpers into my neck

a chill runs down my spine, remembering our moments together was not a pleasant memory, it was time to forget.

[paldean-sandwich-rater]

A sandwich.

It contains ice cream, whipped cream, sponge cake, meat balls, broccoli, pineapple, strawberries, tomatoes, lettuce, rice, noodles, mac and cheese, bacon, beef jerky, dried fish, seaweed, one of every Pokemon berry, jam, olive oil, lotus, dragon fruit, ravioli, ramen, tempura, teriyaki chicken, macaroons, escargots, mint, pepper, salt, sugar, croquettes, pickles, apples, avocados, sausages, bell peppers, grapes, pizza, a donut, cheese, more cheese, even more cheese, mushrooms, mustard, olives, a fried egg, a scrambled egg, blueberries, a poached egg, chawanmushi, a red bean bun, mochi, bbq sauce, chicken nuggets, french fries, takoyaki, pancakes, mackerel, salmon, coffee beans, spinach, a tiny bit of corn cream soup, ramensanga, fettucine alfredo, a plain bagel, pretzels, chocolate chip cookies, sweet potato, yam, potato, scallions, scallops, squid, crab stick, fish balls, fish cakes, oyster sauce, silken tofu, barley, cereal, paprika, oysters, red snapper, sea bass, plums, bean sprouts, garlic, string cheese, camembert, swiss cheese, mozzarella, parmesan cheese, yogurt, brinjal, a macdonald’s happy meal (without the toy and the packaging of course), truffles, caviar, tapioca balls, fried chicken, century eggs, cake sprinkles, dark chocolate, milk chocolate, white chocolate, milk tea (just a tinge), coffee (also a tinge), pudding, pumpkin, honey, mutton, mashed potatoes, bananas, icelandic fermented shark that they bury in the ground for months, raisins, dried mangoes, a drop of water, jelly, nata de coco, prunes, roasted pork, rosemary, bee pollen, peas, deer meat, rabbit meat, fish maw, ham, turkey, m&ms, chub, fufu, watermelon, winter melon, rock melon, coffee jelly, cacao, carrots, blueberries, black tea, dumplings, carrot cake, beetroot, purple cabbage, corn, celery, edamame, red beans, black beans, green beans, kidney beans, cashews, peanuts, pecans, sunflower seeds, walnuts, chickpeas, almonds, daikon, MSG, tamales, anchovies, tabbouleh, lions mane mushroom, chicken of the woods, kelp, octopus, durian, kimchi, crème fraîche, popcorn, cotton candy, everything bagel seasoning, capers, pears, marinara sauce, bittercress, butter cream, every single iteration of galarian curry, sushi, sashimi, kale and a very very specific ramen bowl (without the actual bowl) from a very particular shop located in Iwatodai.

And the top and bottom buns are somehow made from 50 different kinds of bread in a checker box pattern.

It comes with a picture.

Ingredients: I am not typing all of that out again. What the fuck.

Smell: You’ve taken an entire food court’s worth of food and made it into a sandwich. This isn’t even possible. Why am I considering this. 3/5

Taste: How do you eat this. 2/5

Texture: You get like 5 different foods every bite. This is not balanced. There is no harmony. This sandwich is the embodiment of disorder and chaos. 1/5

Presentation: The fact that this even looks sandwich adjacent is a fucking miracle. You don’t get full points though. Because I don’t like you. 3/5

Would Chunk Eat It?: He would eat maybe 1/50th of it. So no. 1/5

Final Score: 2/5

Critic’s Notes: Why would you waste this much food. Just host a party. Donate it. Something fucking anything I am begging at this point.

[restorativemeal]

Menu Twenty-Five

Menu twenty-five from Rowan Bishop and Sue Carruthers' "The Vegetarian Adventure Cookbook".

Gazpacho Soup: tinned whole tomatoes, tinned tomato juice, garlic, cucumber, capsicum, onion, olive oil, whole meal bread, red wine vinegar, salt, pepper, italian herbs, tabasco sauce, worcester sauce, fresh parsley. 

Carrot Tabouleh: bulghur wheat, carrots, spring onion, parsley, walnuts, salt, pepper, lemon juice, tabasco sauce, mayonnaise, black olives. 

Farmhouse Pie: wholemeal flour, rolled oats, salt, butter, kumara, onion, pumpkin, leek, butter beans, plain flour, milk, vegetable stock, horseradish sauce, cheese. 

Crisp Green Salad: Lettuce, mustard, olive oil, lemon juice, salt, pepper, garlic.

Still the middle of March, my problems were resolved and I had started reading a book that led me to believe I may have textbook issues. A newer flame was sparking within me this week, which to a degree only highlighted the textbook issues noted in the sentence prior. It was the Twenty-Seventh week of the long journey through Bishop and Carruthers’ “The Vegetarian Adventure Cookbook”. The Autumn equinox was set to occur on Wednesday, the night of the dinner party. My tendency to look inward caused me to think of it more as just the end of Summer, a time of historical personal woes, I was grateful to have made it through relatively unscathed. The weather was getting colder, the days shorter, and I was becoming thankful despite the issues I knew myself to have. 

Menu Twenty-Five was made up of a medley of dishes across a spectrum of temperatures. A cold Gazpacho Soup and Carrot Tabouleh, with a warm Farmhouse Pie and a side of Crisp Green Salad. I needed the Farmhouse Pie, envisioning a lifestyle where I spent time on a lifestyle block further north than where I was situated, or south depending on the location of something I had seen on Instagram. At the same time, I was having compulsive thoughts about bad things that would happen if my Instagram following went down by one. I discovered a glitch in the supermarket self-checkout which meant you could get two capsicums for the price of one. 

Farmhouse

I was home from work by 5 PM on Wednesday and ready to begin the equinox meal, in a meditative silence in the small kitchen. The hours I spent cooking before my guests arrived was beginning to feel like the only time I knew peace, despite the elevated mood I held steady during Week Twenty-Seven. I assembled the pastry dough in a red pot early, so that it could rest in the fridge for half an hour while I prepared the Farmhouse Pie filling. I tossed the leek stems out the kitchen window because they were too big for the food scrap bin. The Carrot Tabouleh was put together no problem then shifted to the fridge. Twenty-Seven weeks into the journey but I still don’t own a rolling pin, this proved problematic when it came time to roll out my pastry dough with a glass, some of the pie would be left exposed. Still it entered the oven, covered in tinfoil, for as long as the oven would handle. With guests arriving, I blended together the Gazpacho Soup, accidentally pouring a lot of worcester sauce into the mixture but hoping for the best in my calm space.

Autumnal changes

I sat down at the corner of the dining table with all the dishes in the middle. There were six guests around the table, they dipped spoons into the Gazpacho soup and I cut the Farmhouse Pie into equal servings and placed it on the empty plate of each guest. The dinner went down a treat, warm enough to signify the end of Summer, but cold enough to address the higher March temperatures we were facing. Conversation flowed carefully, discussing things, traveling artists, love, and I broached the subject of my textbook issues.

A casual dinner celebrating the end of another Summer

I felt myself coming back into my own by the end of Week Twenty-Seven. At work, my colleague had signed the pair of us up to complete a “Personal Effectiveness Bundle,” an online course geared toward improving personal effectiveness. I learned about personal mission statements and considered ways I could change my morning routine to become a more productive and inspiring person. I wrote down in my diary beside every date for the next week to go for a walk each morning, knowing full well that I wouldn’t go on any of them.

[ophexis]

Yesterday I cooked hot dog burritos from The Neopets Cookbook! I didn't make the post yesterday because I got very sleepy after eating 3 hot dogs. Anyway-

I made 3 versions of it, one exactly like the book (minus mustard cuz I don't like yellow mustard), one with relish (cuz i like my hot dogs with relish) and one more fajita-style with lettuce, salsa, and some tomatoes cuz i felt like eating tomatoes. Alas I did not have sour cream to complete.

The recipe is very, very simple. The only cooking you'll be doing is caramelizing onions. I also got a bit too into caramelizing the onions and forgot you're supposed to salt and season them at the beginning lmao but that's ok.

The recipe only uses a bit of oil but i wanted these onions to pop off so I added a chunk of butter lmao

Some of mine did end up burning a little because I got distracted making a huge mess with my lettuce on the side. u-u I just removed the burnt onions and moved on.

The recipe honestly also doesn't caramelise them for that long but was I gonna let that stop me? No. (Anyway be patient and don't use super high heat with your onions!)

"Well I wouldn't have burnt them."

Then you only have to simmer 4 hot dogs or substitute of choice (or grill them, if you have a grill or a grill pan!), heat up your tortillas, and prepare for assembly. That's it!

Honestly I kind of expected the default version to be a bit boring, but it ended up being the better of the 3 I think. The ketchup was just better with a hot dog (relish too!). The lettuce/tomato/salsa was good but the flavors just didn't marry that well with the hot dog lmao. With chicken it would've been great. But this is what science is for! I also found that the pre-made fajita seasoning (or the amount they ask for) didn't really do a whole lot, flavor-wise, but idk if its bc I put it in too late or if I should just make the mix myself next time. And also the fully loaded one was difficult to close and made a huge mess while eating.

There was something comical about these hot dogs man.

The tortilla isn't anything special with the hot dog, its flavor got kinda lost, but it was a fun thing to eat (enrichment!) and would make a great party food I think. If I make this again I'd probably half it because that made a lot for one mortal woman. And also if you're alone the assembly takes some times and everything gets cold. welp!

SO final word is that this is nothing special, but it's fun to eat, tastes good, and is incredibly customisable. I mean you can put whatever sausage you want in there. Whatever topping. Go wild! This is what Hubert would want.

[castletown-cafe]

Castletown Café Episode 25: Darkburger

This recipe has been a long time coming. A whole year, in fact. I didn’t get around to it last summer, but this summer, it’s finally here. Lots of work went into these as both the buns AND patties were made from scratch, meaning this is another double recipe episode!

Although the Darkburger is, according to Ralsei, a little on the burnt side, these vegetarian burgers are a different kind of dark. Black beans are an essential ingredient to these flavorful patties, and squid ink is used to make the buns pitch black.

Using squid ink to dye food black is not that unheard of in many parts of the world, from Japan to the Mediterranean. I knew from the get-go that I wanted to try this out to make these burgers look like they came from the Dark World.

The ink doesn’t really change the flavors of the buns much, although it may give them a slight umami taste. I didn’t find it all that noticeable, however, especially when combined with the burger’s fillings: the black bean burger patty, the creamy Kewpie mayonnaise, the crunchy lettuce, juicy tomato and the sharpness of the Swiss cheese.

Since I ventured into new territory with burger buns and black bean burgers, both things I’d never made before prior to making this episode, the recipes are not mine at all and I take no credit, even if I did take liberties with Sally’s Baking Addiction’s black bean burger recipe (I omitted the Worcestershire and feta cheese, while adding jalapeno, a little ground cayenne pepper, and a tablespoon of Kewpie mayonnaise).

Now I just mentioned Kewpie mayo twice. It’s my favorite mayonnaise brand. This Japanese mayo comes in a squeezable bottle and uses only the egg yolks as opposed to the whole egg. It’s so flavorful! It may not be easy to find at your local grocery store, however, so you may have to go online for it, or look for it at an import store.

I even found a recipe for squid ink burger buns, and I’m glad I did, because it wouldn’t have been fun or easy to figure that out myself! Baking is an exact science and requires every measurement, technique, and ingredient to be just right! One mistake and the whole thing can come out wrong. Especially with yeast!

Fill these burgers up with whatever condiments you like. Ketchup? Mustard? Pickle? Onion? Go wild. Personally, I’ll only take onion if it’s caramelized or pickled...anyway, my fillings of choice will be featured here in this recipe, but you add what you prefer!

What I did was make the black bean burger patties first, then stored a couple in the refrigerator while freezing the others. The next day, I made the buns, and froze most of them. This way I can always thaw some buns and patties whenever I feel like fixing one for dinner! And also because I wasn’t making them for a party.

When it’s time to fix em, I just reheat the patties over the stove, or even in the microwave. It’s amazing how well they take in the microwave...because the beans are dry, they don’t explode!

DARKBURGER BUNS

Based on: Squid Ink Burger Buns by Alpha Foodie*

1/2 cup warm milk

3/4 cup warm water

1 tablespoon squid ink

2 tablespoons sugar

1 & 1/2 teaspoons active dry yeast

3 cups bread flour

1 & 1/2 tsp salt

2 eggs

100 grams softened butter (a little over 7 tablespoons)

Sesame seeds, for topping

*This recipe also called for 1 & 1/2 tsp star anise powder, but I omitted that.

Heat up the milk and water until warm, but not too hot. If it hurts a little to touch, that’s too hot. Combine your milk and water in a bowl and add the sugar, squid ink, and yeast. Give it 10 minutes to bubble and ferment. It’s fun to watch!

Combine the flour and salt in a large mixing bowl, then add in ONE of the eggs plus the squid ink mixture, and keep mixing until a dough begins to form.

Stir in the butter, a little at a time, until fully incorporated. Your black dough will now be slightly glossy.

Grease another large mixing bowl with softened butter and place your black dough in it. Cover with a tea towel or cheesecloth and set aside in a warm place for about an hour and a half.

Once your dough has finished proofing, divide it up into 8 to 12 balls. It’s recommended to weigh them with a kitchen scale to get a desired weight to keep them all the same size. I divided them into 8 balls and ended up with humongous buns - but unfortunately I didn’t write down the weight and so I don’t remember what the weight was....I suggest about 100 grams, though.

Place these balls on a parchment-paper covered baking sheet and cover again, leaving them for another 30 minutes.

Preheat your oven to about 392 degrees Fahrenheit or 200 degrees Celsius (my oven is colder by a few degrees so I rounded up to 400 degrees F), and beat the remaining egg with some water. Brush the egg wash over each bun so it’ll be nice and glossy, then top with sesame seeds.

Bake for about 15 minutes, depending on the size of the buns. While you won’t be able to see any browning as they’re pitch black, it’s a good idea to check anywhere after 10 or 12 minutes have passed.

Once the buns have coole, place in the freezer for later use, or enjoy right away. These don’t have a long shelf life, but the freezer preserves them well, and they should thaw just fine.

DARKBURGER PATTIES:

Based on: Sally’s Baking Addiction’s Black Bean Burgers*

*I made a few slight modifications from the original recipe!

2 cans canned black beans, oven-dried

3 cloves garlic, minced

1/2 yellow onion diced

1/2 to 3/4 bell pepper, diced and finely chopped

1 jalapeño, minced

1 & 1/2 tsp cumin

1 tsp chili powder

1/4 tsp paprika

1/4 tsp cayenne pepper

2 eggs

1/2 cup panko

1 tbsp Kewpie mayonnaise

1 tbsp barbeque sauce

1/2 tbsp ketchup

1 heaping spoonful flour

Salt and pepper, to taste

Preheat oven to 325 degrees Fahrenheit, open cans of black beans and drain (easiest by pouring the beans into a spaghetti strainer). Spread on a baking sheet. Bake for 15 minutes or until dry. Let cool.

Chop garlic, onion, pepper, and jalapeño. Sautee in some olive oil over medium heat until soft, about 6-7 minutes. Let cool.

With paper towels, blot out excess moisture and oil from the veggies. Add veggies, spices, condiments, panko and eggs, stir to combine. Mix in the black beans, mashing with a potato masher but not thoroughly smashing EVERY bean. Stir in flour.

Form patties using 1/3 cup of mixture on a parchment-paper lined baking sheet and bake at 375 degrees F for 20 minutes: 10 minutes on one side, flip burgers, and bake for another 10. Serve, refrigerate, or freeze once done.

DARKBURGERS:

Squid ink burger buns

Black bean burger patty

Iceberg lettuce, washed and dried

Thinly sliced Roma tomato

Pre-sliced Swiss cheese

Kewpie mayonnaise

Ketchup

Heat up black bean patties however you’d like. For the stove I recommend medium heat, with a touch of olive oil for moisture. Trap in heat by placing a lid over your pan, which will assist in the re-heating process. I suggest giving it at least 10 minutes. Give it another 5 if it’s still not hot enough! At the last minute, top your patties with the cheese to get it nice and melty.

Slice bun in half horizontally. Spread insides with a mixture of ketchup and Kewpie mayonnaise. Place the patty with melted cheese on the bottom bun and top with lettuce and tomato.

Top with the top bun and enjoy!

Sources: 

Samira, Alphafoodie, “Natural Squid Ink Black Burger Buns - Alphafoodie”. Link: https://www.alphafoodie.com/natural-squid-ink-black-burger-buns/

McKenney, Sally, Sally’s Baking Addiction, “The Best Black Bean Burgers I’ve Ever Had - Sally’s Baking Addiction”. Link: https://sallysbakingaddiction.com/best-black-bean-burgers/

[elch-im-ausland]

well I feel bad for neglecting this account so I'm going to keep a little log of my trip to berlin just for fun

Saturday Feb. 17 2024

I wake up in Tübingen in Helia's dorm room because Fiona wanted the Deutsch Kompakt Kurs to hang out again at the end of the semester on Friday and Helia still had to return my book (Convenience Store Woman by Sayaka Murata) to me and the party was in the common area of her building. So anyway I spent the night in her room since she has an extra mattress and when I woke up she made breakfast (hot milk and muesli... don't ask) and then I took the bus to the Tübingen Hauptbahnhof and from there I got to the Stuttgart Hauptbahnhof at 11:30 am. I should mention that I'm a chronic overpacker and my bag was so fucking heavy but I made it.

Then I went to Yorma's and bought a Butterbrezel (I wanted the thick one with the green onions but apparently I didn't order the right one so I got the tiny Brezel with a measly swipe of butter so that was fun) and also a mozzarella and tomato sandwich (also not the one I wanted and also all the lettuce fell to the bottom of the bag 🥲). But if you were me at a busy train station and there was a long line behind you, you would also just take what you were given without complaint. I also bought an apfelschorle and Haribo gummies cuz I like to get a little silly with it.

So anyway then I check my email and find out that my train to Berlin got switched so my seat got rebooked so instead of sitting in front of the luggage rack (to make sure no one stole my stuff) I sat in a normal seat like a normal person. Luckily though the guy from Mannheim who was supposed to sit next to me decided to sit somewhere else :D yay!

Train ride was about 5.5 hours long with stops in Mannheim and Frankfurt. Free WLAN and I got some solid knitting done. the sky was very pretty.

Arrive at 19 Uhr and the woman who is hosting me sends me very long directions on how to find her place. She is a friend of a friend of a friend of my parents. As it turns out. I get stopped by a guy doing a survey? I think? outside of the Berlin Hauptbahnhof but I slithered out of that interaction by answering all of his questions and being very unassertive.

I arrive at the apartment building my host lives in which is covered in very cool graffiti and is just so German idk, she rings me up and I get to discover just how many flights of stairs my poor body can handle. Remember how I overpacked? I do always regret it in the end, yet I never learn. The apartment is on the top floor and it's covered in very cool art and vintage posters and maps and things and full of very luscious plants it's so rad.

My host is really nice, she is also studying art (I think her Master's program?) and she invites me to this party she's going to tonight that's a 50th birthday party for a woman she knows. So I take a shower and go there and it's also on like the 5th floor (my asthma is loving this). There is music, live experimental jazz and EVERYONE is smoking inside and it is also decorated in a really cool cluttered artsy way. The music was really good, but there were a lot of people there and my german isn't exactly at the conversational level so I only stayed a couple hours until 1 am and then took the train back to the apartment because I was also really tired.

Overall it was a nice day, I wish I could have left for Berlin when my last class ended on the 14th so I could go to clubs but that can wait until next time and I was happy to see my Tübingen buddies again.

My room here is sort of small but there's a really cool lamp and the window looks out onto the courtyard of the apartment building which is very sexy.

[phanfictioncatalogue]

Fics Named After Foods Masterlist

Bacon McDouble with a Pepsi (ao3) - orphan_account

Summary: in a world in which the first words your soulmate says to you are inscribed upon your wrist, dan finds a mcdonald’s order on his arm

Brownies & Waffles (ao3) - scifi

Summary: dan and phil get high in amsterdam

cake (ao3) - calvinahobbes

Summary: “You know that cake cost an arm and a leg. The least you could do is eat it off a plate.”

Cake and Coffee (ao3) - swagityswag

Summary: Phil was the kind of person to get bored often, Dan and his little coffee shop helps.

Chocolate Chip (ao3) - MirabelleG

Summary: Phil works in an Ice Cream parlour and is left to the task of training the hopeless new employee who both annoys and intrigues him.

Chocolate Ice Cream And Bourbon - daeguk

Summary: It's not as if Dan doesn't want to go to the parties that he's obligated to go to as a university student. It's awkward and uncomfortable, and Dan knows that him and parties should not mix. That is, until he isn't alone, and he meets a solemn writer named Phil.

Chocolate Syrup (ao3) - kae_karo

Summary: Phil reads off a very interesting PINOF question...

Cream (ao3) - Nefertiti1052 (Succubusphan)

Summary: A disgruntled Phil comes home after some work meetings and finds his naughty Neko boyfriend in a compromising position.

Cupcake (ao3) - cafephan

Summary: Phil’s lockdown birthday celebrations end as excitingly as they began, all thanks to a piñata cupcake.

deep dish pizza (ao3) - shibelozer

Summary: bottomless stomach meet bottomless pizza

Fortune Cookies (ao3) - kae_karo

Summary: Dan gets a fortune cookie and it's been bugging him all day. But he's NOT superstitious.

Ice-cream Cake (ao3) - dip_the_pip

Summary: Dan wanders upstairs during his 17th birthday party to try and find a few moments of silence after rounds of shots and posing with his birthday cake. Instead he finds his best friend asleep in the tub.

lollipop (ao3) - orphan_account

Summary: In where Dan's bisexual and slutty as fuck and Phil just wants his candy business to take off.

Lollipop (ao3) - blissedoutphil

Summary: Dan sucks on a lollipop and it turns Phil on and Dan teases Phil and acts like he doesn’t notice and it leads to punishment

Pancake - danalingphil-fics

Summary: Dan has to use the safe word during sex, and comfort ensues.

pancakes (ao3) - howelllesters

Summary: Dan tries to make Phil breakfast in bed. Instead he just makes a mess of the kitchen, Phil's pyjamas, and his own hand.

Pancakes and Corn (ao3) - Septic84

Summary: Two best friends run into Dan and Phil at a vulnerable time after one of their performances.

pasta sauce (ao3) - oqua

Summary: Dan shows Phil a certain forum. Phil is initially skeptical but kind of comes around, and Dan might be more invested than he lets on. They have pasta for dinner.

Kind of a veiled love letter from me to IDB? Middle-aged nose perverts 4 lyfe.

Peanut Butter (ao3) - Legaldanish

Summary: Phil makes a game for him and Dan to play. Not sure if its EXACTLY food kink. Phil licks peanut butter off of Dan.

slice of cake (ao3) - Tarredion

Summary: Dan's promised to celebrate Phil with nothing but the best this year.

Naturally, he buys himself a new skirt - but it's not just to wear.

Strawberry Pocky - chocolatesaucelester

Summary: Dan and Phil play the “Pocky Game”

Strawberry Shortcake - doomedhowell

Summary: Dan works at a bakery with his friend Louise, where a punk boy comes in every day and orders Strawberry Shortcake.

Sugar (ao3) - lovergalore

Summary: Phil works at a bakery and Dan is a single Dad.

Sugar cookie (ao3) - krissyxlove

Summary: An answer during truth bombs makes Dan think all the way back to a time when he and Phil first started dating.

the cake (ao3) - animad

Summary: Dan orders the cake for Phil's birthday on isle of man.

toast (ao3) - awrfdnp

Summary: dan turns to phil for adulting advice. before he knew it, he was sent out to get lettuce from the supermarket. what he comes back with isn’t what phil was expecting.

Wedding Cake (ao3) - orphan_account

Summary: Set in the same universe as Cookies, several years later... Wedding preparations Woop!

Whipped cream with sprinkles on top (ao3) - theshyauthor

Summary: So maybe Dan has a crush on the barista. He knows how cliche that is. In fact it is so cliche that he didn’t want to believe it at first either. After all, who actually develops a crush on their barista? It’s not like he’s living in some fanfiction universe written by a fourteen-year-old.

or

Dan is a university student who gets too little sleep and Phil is the cute barista he has a crush on.

White Chocolate Drizzle - camisadan

Summary: making out that turns into handjobs in a bathroom

[sugdenlovesdingle]

4, 14, 15!

ooh thanks for this

4. favourite dish specific for your country? I don't know... Dutch cuisine isn't exactly much to write home about. Though we do have "stamppot" - potatoes with leafy vegetables (like lettuce or kale) mashed together and (usually) served with sausage. It's good winter food for when it's cold out. You won't go hungry when you have that for dinner! And not *really* specific to the Netherlands but 'patatje met' - fries/chips with mayonnaise (the only right way to eat it really) or poffertjes - mini pancakes with a little bit of butter and A LOT of powdered sugar - it's SO GOOD. Or stroopwafels - two thin wafers with syrup in between. especially in winter when you let the syrup melt over a mug of hot coffee or hot chocolate. 14. do you enjoy your country’s cinema and/or TV? Some of it. Some Dutch tv shows and films are good (though the sound is usually absolutely shit because Dutch studios skimp on sound techs) but these days I only really watch things like the (Dutch version of) the Daily Show - De avondshow met Arjen Lubach and the Dutch version of Have I got news for you. I don't really have the patience for other things. Though if it's available on netflix outside of the Netherlands, Anne+ is a good dutch show and film. And I always always always recommend Chez Nous - a feel good gay heist movie. 15. a saying, joke, or hermetic meme that only people from your country will get? I don't really know... we had Harry Potter as a prime minister in the early 2000s and now we have Voldemort as minister of health. (No, really)

Every time there is a disagreement within a political party someone quits and starts their own party - comedians can barely keep up. Other than that...i don't know. There was this blog with Dutch memes here years ago but that was mostly commentary on current events. Which is usually one big clusterfuck.

[mythoughtsonapage]

Serial Scenes: #2

Protagonist fucking loved grocery shopping.

The cool blast of air as she walked through the sliding doors, the clang of the carts, the sight smell of dirt as she opened into the produce section. Even if she came with a strict list, she inevitably abandoned it in favor of the endless culinary opportunities.

This frequently got her in trouble with her mother, who followed a new rigid diet every month after inevitably failing the previous one. And it was always for a stupid reason:

“Ugh, did you know EVERYTHING has sugar in it?”

“God damnit, BUTTER smells good right now! I didn’t even know butter had a smell. You know, God gave us noses for a reason...”

“How could I have possibly known a cabbage-only diet would upset my stomach like this...”

“These beans have no taste! Or smell... Maybe I’m getting sick? I should stop. I shouldn’t starve myself if I’m sick. I’ll pick it up when I feel better...”

On the off chance her mom let Protagonist be the one to even do the grocery shopping - relinquishing control over something for even a second was a challenge for her - it almost always ended the same way: Protagonist jumped at the chance, promised to stick to the list of:

- chia seeds

- oat milk

- iceberg lettuce 

- grass-fed ghee

- tofurkey

- horseradish

- 2 liters of Diet Coke

then came home with 17 extra items, and her mother lost her mind. Nevermind that Protagonist was never required to follow her mother’s seasonal diets and therefore never did. And nevermind that Protagonist had to eat something. The betrayal! The sheer horror of eggs passing across the threshold! It always dissolved into a fight. “How dare you...”

But today, as the cool mist presently watering the cucumbers and zucchini fogged up the screen of her cell phone list, Protagonist was completely free to purchase whatever she wanted. She would get heirloom tomatoes, despite having beautiful ones already glimmering in the backyard. She would stock up on Haagen Dazs bars. She would put real milk in her tea. She would feel for the firmness of every single avocado.

Protagonist worshipped at the church of groceries. She had long ago memorized the contents of each and every aisle, and she’d bemoaned at last year’s Thanksgiving alongside her favorite check-out lady Shirley, when they’d moved the aisles around.

“And a major holiday around the corner, no less!”

Today, she would let each aisle speak to her. A giant block of feta cheese? Why not? Protagonist grabbed three bottles of freshly made salad dressing. What made them different from the shelf-stable ones on aisle 16? She didn’t care. All she felt was sick contentment as she smirked, imagining her mother gasping at the trans fat.

She turned the cart around the corner. Aisles 3 and 4: Frozen foods, pizza, ice cream. Protagonist grabbed a “rising crust” cheese and popper her gum as the she let the freezer door slam shut. A woman and her toddler looked up at the sound, the boy aggressively rolling a Hot Wheels car across the cart handle between his mom’s hands, slamming into her fingers, carelessly. Protagonist waved. The child simply stared, then went back to whooshing. “Fucker,” Protagonist mumbled as she rolled past. She thought she heard the young mom gasp.

Around the next corner. Aisles 5 and 6: Cleaning supplies, paper products, dog food. This aisle never made any sense to her. She grabbed a bottle of bleach and jumbo toilet paper. 

Around the next corner. Aisles 7 and 8: Magazines and party supplies. Then deodorant, body wash, and cheap makeup. She grabbed a stick of Dove and an eyeliner pencil. Why not? Can’t beat $3.

Around the next corner. And then the next. Cake mix, flour, baking sheets. She selected the nicest bottle of olive oil she could find. Another turn, and another. Cans of beans, packages of cookies, fresh sourdough. Her cart runneth over. 

By the time she pushed up to Shirley’s lane, Protagonist could barely swing the cart around the magazine rack. 

“Stocking up while mom’s away?”

“Exactly,” Protagonist smiled. It felt good to be seen by Shirley. The small talk began.

“How’s Georgia? Will you see each other over the break?”

“We’re having a sleepover next Tuesday.”

“Oh that’s nice!” 

Scan, beep. Scan, beep. Pause.

“I wondered if maybe you’d go to her place for Christmas- “

“Nope,” Protagonist cut Shirley off, perhaps too brightly. 

Shirley tried to shrug it off by not stopping her scanning, but her voice tightened, apologetic, “Oh sure. I’ll bet they have plenty going on, what with such a big family...”

Scan, beep. Scan, beep. Pause.

“Have you, uh... Have you heard from Janey?”

Protagonist didn’t respond, eyes far away, in the land of candy and gum. She reached across the belt and grabbed a handful of prepaid Visa gift cards, tossing them onto the receding end of her items and setting down a divider too late for it to matter. 

“$50 on each please,” she finally looked up at Shirley, who was staring at her, concerned. When she looked back down to scan the gift cards, Protagonist could see her counting them up in her head. “My, that’s a lot of money, honey.”

“For my teachers. Christmas gifts.”

“Oh, that’s so nice of you!” Shirley resumed her scanning, “Want them in the bags?”

“I’ll take ‘em,” Protagonist tossed them into her purse, then swiped the debit card and keyed in the pin while Shirley bagged each item carefully.

“Well, there ya go!” Shirley patted the side of the last bag proudly, like a mother who’d just forced her child into a large, puffy winter coat. She reached around to tear of the receipt and, as she handed it to Protagonist, found a Visa gift card being handed back to her.

“For you,” the girl said firmly. 

Shirley looked up, eyes wide, “Oh, you-”

“Merry Christmas. Thanks for everything.”

Protagonist loaded the bags back into her cart quickly and nearly jogged away before Shirley could protest the gift. She caught Shirley wipe a tear away from the corner of her eye as she greeted the next guest. Protagonist smiled to herself. 

She would miss her. 

[fiftytwotwentythree]

Wellness Wednesday:

Plotting - Planning

Plotting/Planning on what?

I am plotting, planning, prepping for a Family Road Trip, a Bro Trip - In General PTO/Vacation, a Short Term Meal/Diet Challenge, Next Year's Challenge (52 in 24), Possible Birthday Party for Myself, and What my First Real Cheat Meal is going to look like January 1st, 2024...

That's what's rolling through my head - helps me pass the time.

Beyond that - I don't feel like much is going on - Feel like I am in a limbo. I definitely feel better than I did last week - teetering back to neutral - hopefully moving towards the "positive".

Found a new respect/passion for reading comics... I've enjoyed them in the past but found some nice trades recently that have increased the flame.

Movie-wise - I am fizzling out. Nothing looking good - sitting good lately. Hopefully Barbie can rekindle my love.

In other news I've been taking naps during my work lunch. They have been greatly needed and cherished but haven't cured my sleep pains.

Had another plateau in weightloss - no sweat - been feeling good about my body lately.

Basically... been just a chill week.

.

.

29th CHECK-IN:

Current Goals:

Lose 52 lbs

Completed as of 4/12/2023

New Goal: Maintain or Continue on The Weight Loss Path

Avoid "Junk Food"

Minimize Take-Out / Fast Food Consumption

Short Term:

Vegetarian-ish Diet: Completed

End Date: 4/09/2023 - 46 Days Total

.

.

Meal Tracker:

THURSDAY

Lunch:

Can of Progresso Lasagna Style Soup

- 8 Crackers

(2) Slices of Buttered Wheat Bread

(2) Scoops of Broccoli Cheddar Pasta Salad

Snack:

(2)Large Bowl of Valley Top Popcorn

(2) Handful of Good & Gather's Tex Mex Trail Mix

Supper:

(2) Homemade Crunchy Chicken Burritos

- (3) Tyson's Crispy Chicken Tenders

- Tortillas

- Tostitos Queso Blanco

- Busch's Taco Seasoned Black Beans

- Minute's Cilantro & Lime Jasmine Rice

- Herdez Roasted Salsa

- Pickled Red Onion

- Cholula Hot Sauce

- Sour Cream

(15) Small Pineapple Chunks

(2) Glasses of Chocolate Milk

FRIDAY

Lunch:

(3) Hotdogs on Toasted Buns

(1) Glass of Chocolate Milk

Snack:

(2) Handfuls of Good & Gather's Tex Mex Trail Mix

(3) Large Bowls of Valley Top Popcorn

Bag of Ranch Corn Nuts

Supper:

(3) Grilled Cheeseburgers on Bakery Buns

- Lettuce

- Ketchup

Scoop of Cottage Cheese

(2) Glasses of Chocolate Milk

SATURDAY

Lunch:

(2) Johnsonville Beef Smoked Sausages on Toasted Buns

Handful of Good & Gather's Tex Mex Trail Mix

(1) Glass of Chocolate Milk

Snack:

Large Bowl of Valley Top Popcorn

(1) Glass of Rootbeer Flavored Milk

Supper:

Can of Progresso Tomato Basil Soup

- (6) Crackers

(1) Grilled Cheese Sandwich

SUNDAY

Lunch:

Bowl of Cesaer Salad with Croutons

Snack:

(2) Bowls of Smartfood's White Cheddar Popcorn

(1) Glass of Rootbeer Flavored Milk

Supper:

Bowl of Leftover Cesaer Salad with Croutons

(2) Small Oranges

(1) Glass of Chocolate Milk

MONDAY

Lunch:

Southwest Salad

Handful of Good & Gather's Tex Mex Trail Mix

Snack:

Large Bowl of Smartfood's White Cheddar Popcorn

Large Bag of Movie Theatre Popcorn (No Butter)

Supper:

Bowl of Leftover Southwest Salad

(2) Small Oranges

(1) Glass of Chocolate Milk

TUESDAY

Lunch:

Bowl of Mexican Style Street Corn Salad

Supper:

Bowl Leftover of Mexican Style Street Corn Salad

(1) Glass of Chocolate Milk

WEDNESDAY

Lunch:

StarKist Herb & Garlic Tuna with (2) slices of Pepperjack Cheese on a Croissant

Leftover Great Value Mutant Mayhem Macaroni and Cheese

(1) Small Orange

Snack:

(4) Medium Bowls of Valley Top Popcorn

(1) Individual Bag of Sahale Snacks Pomegranate Vanilla Flavored Cashews Glazed Mix

(1) Individual Bag of Sahale Snacks Fruit & Nut Trail Mix

Supper:

(1) Grilled Cheese Burger on Hawaiian Bun

- Top Secret Recipes' Burger Special Sauce

(1) Grilled Hotdog on a Hawaiian Bun

(2) Glasses of Chocolate Milk

(1) Ear of Firecracker Corn

.

.

Workouts:

THURSDAY

(200) Jumping Jacks [4 sets of 50]

(100) Glute Bridges [4 sets of 25]

(100) Push-Ups [10 sets of 10]

(100) Assisted Push-Ups [2 sets of 50]

(50) Reverse Leg Lifts [5 sets of 10]

(50) Leg Kickbacks [5 sets of 10]

(5 min) Planks [5 Sets of 1 min]

FRIDAY

(200) Jumping Jacks [4 sets of 50]

(100) Glute Bridges [4 sets of 25]

(100) Push-Ups [10 sets of 10]

(100) Assisted Push-Ups [2 sets of 50]

(50) Reverse Leg Lifts [5 sets of 10]

(50) Leg Kickbacks [5 sets of 10]

(100) Sit-Ups [5 Sets of 20]

SATURDAY

(200) Jumping Jacks [4 sets of 50]

(100) Glute Bridges [4 sets of 25]

(100) Push-Ups [10 sets of 10]

(100) Assisted Push-Ups [2 sets of 50]

(50) Reverse Leg Lifts [5 sets of 10]

(50) Leg Kickbacks [5 sets of 10]

(5 min) Planks [5 Sets of 1 min]

SUNDAY

(200) Jumping Jacks [4 sets of 50]

(100) Glute Bridges [4 sets of 25]

(100) Push-Ups [10 sets of 10]

(100) Assisted Push-Ups [2 sets of 50]

(50) Reverse Leg Lifts [5 sets of 10]

(50) Leg Kickbacks [5 sets of 10]

(100) Sit-Ups [5 Sets of 20]

MONDAY

(200) Jumping Jacks [4 sets of 50]

(100) Glute Bridges [4 sets of 25]

(100) Push-Ups [10 sets of 10]

(100) Assisted Push-Ups [2 sets of 50]

(50) Reverse Leg Lifts [5 sets of 10]

(50) Leg Kickbacks [5 sets of 10]

(5 min) Planks [5 Sets of 1 min]

TUESDAY

(200) Jumping Jacks [4 sets of 50]

(100) Glute Bridges [4 sets of 25]

(100) Push-Ups [5 sets of 10]

(100) Assisted Push-Ups [2 set of 50]

(50) Reverse Leg Lifts [5 sets of 10]

(50) Leg Kickbacks [5 sets of 10]

(100) Sit-Ups [5 Sets of 20]

WEDNESDAY

(200) Jumping Jacks [4 sets of 50]

(100) Glute Bridges[4 sets of 25]

(100) Push-Ups [10 sets of 10]

(100) Assisted Push-Ups [2 Sets of 50]

(50) Reverse Leg Lifts [5 sets of 10]

(50) Leg Kickbacks [5 sets of 10]

(5 min) Planks [5 Sets of 1 min]

.

.

WEIGHT TRACKER:

Starting Weight (Noon, 1/01/2023): XXX.X lbs

Weight at Last Check-In, 7/12/2023: -1.0 lbs

Weight As of Noon, 7/19/2023: +0.2 lbs

Total Weight Loss: -78.0 lbs

.

.

Closing Thoughts:

The Good:

I thought I've been looking really good in the mirror lately. Good hair - clothes fitting well.

The Bad:

Neck still sore/stiff.

Caught up on some sleep - but - still craving it.

The Ugly:

Nothing too bad to be considered ugly... if anything I've been living in a state of stale boredom/limbo... but still pretty chill.

[snowpoff]

I don't normally say anything in the replies of posts, but as a former iowan I am here to defend the walking taco.

there is, and I quote, NOTHING wrong with it. It is a MAINSTAY of iowan concession stands. it's not easy to consume a regular ass taco while watching a game on the bleachers without getting it all over yourself, ESPECIALLY if it's windy. you'll get the juices and lettuce and cheese all over and you'll be wishing you had a plate of some kind.

enter: the walking taco. it's glorious. it's beautiful. it's painfully midwestern. and it's perfection in a bag.

you get a bag of doritos, or fritos. you crush all that up. you dump in your taco meat. you toss in some cheese. you dust it with lettuce and a dash of tomatoes. then your sour cream. you stick a fork in that sucker.

BOOM. you have a taco that's FAR easier to consume on a windy day and it tastes JUST THE SAME.

for those who would decry this as an affront to the beloved taco-- know that walking tacos are SOLELY ( usually. ) reserved for the concession stand. I never had walking tacos at home growing up unless it was like. a party event.

trust me when I say I would 10/10 of the time rather have a taco indoors than a walking taco. but when I don't wanna make a mess...

the walking taco has my back.

also: butter burgers are delicious. if you see a culvers, do get a butter burger.

Weirdest food from every state in the US.