#Season Your Goddamn Vegetables!!

[messengerhermes]

Stop trying to strong arm your way into eating your vegetables

And any other "good" habit, actually. Often when we're trying to train ourselves into new behaviors that we believe are "better" for us, we do it in the most utilitarian way possible: Eating more veggies= eating raw lettuce and undressed steamed broccoli Exercising more= hitting the gym for thirty minutes a day, often doing some intense workout Spending less time on your screens= some bullshit self improvement activity you don't actually like What test of wills are you training to pass? Humans are wired for pleasure. We are large, omnivorous animals. We are programmed to lounge around and seek out things that feel good, amuse, and please us. Changing our habits doesn't look like quitting the "bad" thing cold turkey. It looks like building more opportunities for pleasure into our lives. For example: Want to smoke fewer cigarettes? Try: Taking a week to note all the shit that makes you want a cigarette. Don't try to change how often you smoke yet, just pay attention. Keep a record of this for the week. At the end of the week, look over all the times you wanted to smoke. Note all times that were focused on the pleasure of smoking. Note all the times that were about reducing your stress/irritation/boredom/discomfort. For each of those times smoking was a way of coping with something unpleasant, rate how effective smoking was in actually helping you with it. Did it slap a bandaid on the bad thing? Did it actually restore you enough to tackle the problem? Did it let you ignore something that you probably ought to address? For all the times you smoked, not for the enjoyment of it, but to take the edge off of something else, write out some more options for yourself. The key thing here is pick things that : -are at least as appealing as the cigarette. -address the need the cigarette fills equally, if not better than smoking. For example:

If you get overstimulated at work and smoking is your excuse to go outside and catch some air, what if you take a walk around the block instead? No one needs to know you're not smoking on that walk, and it still lets you get a break. If you get halfway through and you still want the cigarette, let yourself smoke, but give the walk a chance each time. let yourself take in what's around you and try to find something small to enjoy. Another example: If you have a smoke every time you feel yourself getting irritated with your housemates, so that way you can go back in and tell them what you need without losing your shit, what if you step into your room/go to your car, get out of the house and let yourself dance/scream/move to a playlist of music that helps you blow off steam? What if you shadowbox for a minute in the bathroom? If you still feel on the edge after letting off that energy and you want the cigarette, have it, but give yourself the change to get those emotions out. Try to give yourself at least two options in addition to the cigarette. For each alternative way of coping with the stressful thing, give yourself a rule for how long you'll give it a shot before opting to smoke instead. The goal here is not to change how often you smoke by force, but by giving yourself an equally enjoyable if not more enjoyable solution to your problem. We cannot punish our way into "good" behavior.

We have to address the problem we are solving with the habits we feel bad about. I used smoking as an example because I feel like that's a habit people often try to force themselves out of, but force quitting smoking ignores the reality that: -Smoking is an addictive habit -Smoking offers an avenue for self medicating a number of stressful problems -If you don't address the problems, you've just shot yourself in the foot by quitting the one coping method you have. Swap "cigarettes" for whatever your unwanted habits are and this method can still apply.

[charliemwrites]

Part 4 of Men at Work!

Just a note, I know I mix phonetic and Cyrillic spellings of Russian in this. Mostly it's so that people can easily translate the more complex words directly.

Content: Masturbation, very mild protective/possessive behavior

It’s becoming a problem.

You think this from the overstuffed daybed recently purchased for the explicit purpose of feeding into aforementioned problem. Not that the porch is the problem, heavens no. If so much as a nail came loose, there’s a trio of men across the street all too eager to lend their hammers and bulging, glistening muscles to fix it.

Which, conveniently, is the problem.

Their muscles, that is. And how magnanimous they are with them.

Your house is nice. New. It took them three days to fix all the issues you’d been putting off for a day you were non-reclusive enough to schedule a handyman.

Your house is too nice and too new.

You’re feeding a Vegas buffet’s worth of appetites raised on old world sensibilities with no outlet for them to be expressed. There aren’t enough squeaky hinges, crooked cabinets, stuck windows, or leaky faucets in your two-bedroom for all that… chivalry. (Or whatever Krueger has that passes for chivalry’s surly cousin.)

They’ve taken to invading earlier in the evening for busy work before dinner. Cutting vegetables, tenderizing meat, cleaning dishes, setting the goddamn table.

Like, sirs, you’re a single woman with three cats and a sham of a personal life – the last time you saw a centerpiece on a domestic dining table was Christmas at your nana’s.

Until Konig shuffled in with a fistful of sunflowers and zinnias, promising that he double-checked that they’re non-toxic to cats. You didn’t have a vase, so you had to make do with an empty mason jar you were keeping for ostensible aesthetic reasons.

Now you’ve got an ongoing bouquet, kitschy salt-and-pepper shakers shaped like lemons that no one ever uses (as if your seasoning decisions are as good as god) and are contemplating cloth napkins like some kind of… of…

“Socialite?” you muse aloud. You glance at Rasputin. He blinks slowly. “Hostess? Woman of the night?”

You’re pretty sure Agatha didn’t mean that as a compliment when you overheard her gossiping to Margot yesterday. (She should really remember that if she can eavesdrop on you from her backyard, the same is true the other way around.)

You’re toying with an idea for a new series with your last one wrapping up and your solo-novel due for release come fall. Something about a rich young woman with a wild streak and her fantastically wealthy gentlemen callers…

“Scarlet woman,” you murmur aloud, eyes on the reason for your recent porch décor purchase.

Krueger is on the roof, cloth around his head to stave off the summer heat. Doing… something with shingles and a nail gun. Your face flushes with each flex of hard muscle, jump of thick tendons. The grip he has on that thing…

As inspiring as your neighbors are, they are also a huge (in many, many ways) distraction. Hence, they are a Problem.

And not just for you. On your right, you catch the flutter of curtains from your peripheral. Lisa taking another peek – to be properly scandalized, probably. (You’re not really sure what the neighborhood biddies tell themselves when they decide something is Simply Not Proper.)

“We’ll have to start charging admission,” you muse, sipping a strawberry mojito.

Curled up far too close for the weather, Little Guy chuffs and stretches. You smooth a fingertip up his little nose, between his eyes, and over the crest of his empty head.

“Jezebel,” you mumble. He yawns, tongue curling and pearly fangs gleaming. “Trollop.”

An annoyed grunt pulls your eyes forward again. Nikto is standing halfway up the porch, one foot planted on the last step like a sexy Russian Captain Morgan. His thighs stretch his workpants oh-so-nicely. There’s a smear of white paste across the material – caulking, maybe?

(You could do with a caulking too.)

“Has someone called you these?” he asks. “Who?”

You laugh. What would he even do if someone had?

“No – well, not to my face, anyway.”

He snorts, shoots a withering scowl at Agatha’s property anyway. You spin your pen around your fingers and try not to bite your lip at the way his shirt is clinging from sweat.

“Aren’t you hot?” you fuss. “You’re going to pass out.”

“Nyet, we have been in worse,” he replies, finishing the short journey up the porch. He pauses in front of you, taking in the sight of you and your cats. What does he think, seeing you lounging about all day while he and his friends(?) are working so hard? If it’s something negative, he’s never let on.

“Still,” you insist, “have you been hydrating?”

“Da, the water runs.”

You blink, put together pieces to assume he and the others are chugging tap water (probably right from the faucet) when necessary. Well, that just won’t do now, will it?

“No, no. Hold on. Rasputin, hold him hostage.”

And like the little angel he is, Ras gets up, stretches out, and begins rubbing his face all over Nikto’s pants. With him distracted, you hop to your feet and scurry inside. The house is almost uncomfortably cool after most of your morning spent outside, but you’ll only be a moment.

There’s a large ruby pitcher waiting in the fridge from last night, complete with various berries floating at the top. You use two hands to heft it out, set it on the counter, then flit to your cabinets for the travel cups you invested in for on-the-go wine sipping. Nice and insulated.

You pour a cup for each of them, stow the pitcher away again, and carry all three in triangle-formation back outside. (Maybe you should get a tray? The antique store in town probably has something pretty and lemon-themed to match the salt and pepper shakers…)

Nikto hurries to help as soon as he sees you, plucking the extra cup from your hands.

“I saw this recipe and wanted to try it since it’s been getting hotter.”

He blinks at you, then the juice.

“You don’t have to try it now, I just thought—”

Your voice abandons you as Nikto tugs his filtration mask down. The skin beneath is warped and scarred, discolored in some places. When he raises the edge of the cup to his mouth, the skin of one cheek stretches distressingly thin. You can see the individual indents of his back molars pressing against the flesh as he drinks.

You understand why he’s been hesitant to show you; it’s not easy to look at. Which makes you all the more determined to flick your eyes back to his and ask, eagerly, “What do you think? Too sweet?”

As he swallows, throat clicking, you think you hear him grunt something.

“Hm?”

“Nyet. Not too sweet. Is good, пчела.”

You grin even though you’re not sure what it means. All three of them have some nickname in their mother tongue that you can only hope is complimentary and not because they forgot your actual name.

“Good, then I can bring some to K and K while you help me with lunch. That’s why you came by, right?”

He nods. “Nearly noon.”

“That late already!” you say. Wow, staring at hot, sweaty men really makes time fly. “Alright, I was going to make chicken wraps and latkes. Could you start peeling potatoes? You know where everything is, da?”

“Da.” He clicks his tongue, luring Rasputin in and stirring Guy awake. “Come, малышу, before we leave you out here for vultures.”

“Nikto!” you scold. “Don’t threaten him.”

“I do not threaten. It is what will happen.”

You swat at his arm, but at least Little Guy has been lured into Nikto’s reach – if by nothing else than a hand has been offered and cats are helpless to resist a good sniff. Nikto scoops him up while you turn to flounce down the stairs.

“Make sure Susan doesn’t get out!” you call over your shoulder.

She was roused by your quick turnaround to get the juice cups and will certainly be stalking the door now.

Sure enough, you faintly hear him cursing in Russian as you reach the end of the yard. Luckily, you see him closing the door with all three of your demons inside, so you continue across the street.

Krueger hasn’t noticed your approach, his back to you, so you stop at the edge of the property to watch for a moment. Yep, just as good this close, too.

“Krueger!” you call. He doesn’t turn. You huff and try again. Nothing. Christ, you’re starting to think he’s ignoring you on purpose. “Sebastian!”

His head whips around alarmingly fast and finds you right there on the ground. No need to look around at all – sometimes they remind you of their profession in the oddest ways.

“Ja, ja, no need to shout,” he replies.

You open your mouth to do just that, but he’s already scaling down from the roof. You’re stunned into silence as he slides down to the edge of the roof, catches the edge, and swings down to the ground. Lands with barely more noise than one of your footsteps. It’s quick yet so graceful.

You stare (gawk, more accurately) as he saunters up, pants sinfully low on his narrow hips.

“What did you need, bienchen?” he asks. “It is too early for lunch.”

You stutter for a second before your brain reboots.

“What was that?!” you demand, a little shriller than necessary. If you don’t shriek about this, you’re going to shriek about that gorgeous chest and the tattoos and the everything else, and you absolutely cannot do that. “That was so dangerous! You’re going to break a leg!”

“You worry,” he scoffs. He shakes his head, but there’s a wicked, knowing grin at the corners of his mouth and his eyes are far too bright. “That was a little jump.”

“It was not!”

“It only seemed big because you are so little, but it was nothing for me.”

“You’re not that much taller!”

“It is sweet to worry,” he coos, “but it is too hot for it, yes?”

You scrunch your nose at him, not sure if you’re annoyed or turned on or both. (Probably both. It’s annoying how hot he is. And how hot he knows he is.)

“If it’s so hot, then here.”

You all but shove the cup at him. He takes it with a flicker of genuine surprise, sniffs at the liquid, then takes a sip. A pleased hum rumbles in his chest, raises the temperature another few degrees.

“My mother used to make something like this,” he muses, expression softening. You blink, lean in automatically for a peck to your cheek. “Danke schön.”

“Bitte,” you mumble, mouth drier than Reggie’s garden.

His eyes crinkle, mouth hidden by the edge of the cup as he proceeds to chug the rest of it. A droplet slips down his jaw and skips down to his collarbone. You force your eyes away before you’re driven to do something irreparable by thirst.

“Is Konig inside?” you ask. “I have a cup for him, too.”

He grunts confirmation, tongue curling around a blueberry to coax it into his mouth.

Yep, alright, that’s about as much as you can take.

“Scooch, before the punch goes warm.”

“Punch?” he repeats, arching an eyebrow at you.

“That’s what it’s called in English. Punch.”

“That seems like it would cause misunderstanding.” Except he’s grinning as he says it, like he cherishes the idea of someone confusing the two words and starting a fight. Considering how often you catch him and Konig smacking at each other, that’s probably not a stretch.

“Just please don’t swing on anyone, yeah?”

“Only because you ask so nicely,” he croons.

You click your tongue at him. “Wipe off before going in, I don’t want Shithead to stink after crawling on you.”

He barks out his usual sharp laugh and tugs the cloth – his own t-shirt – off his head to mop up his sweat. You make a mental note to tease him about sunburn later as you slip past him.

You can hear Konig singing off-key upstairs when you open the door. The house is sweltering, only mildly cooler than outside with none of the fresh air. You grimace as you pause at the bottom of the stairs; the boys have warned you that it’s dangerous up there and it’s best not to go wandering.

Thankfully, it doesn’t sound like he’s using power tools at the moment.

“Konig!” you call.

“Is that you, biene?” he calls back.

You grin. “Who else would it be, huh?”

You hear his footsteps right over your head, track his gait until the first heavy boot on the stairs. He meets you at the bottom with his usual ventilator on, but he tugs it down when he sees the cup in your hand.

“Is this for me?” he asks eagerly.

“Yep! Tell me what you think!”

With none of Nikto or Kreuger’s hesitation, he knocks back a big mouthful. Licks his full lips as he lowers it, eyes bright as they land on yours.

“This is perfect,” he chirps, “so refreshing! Thank you, biene!”

You beam right back, flushed with pride that all three of them liked the recipe you “happened to find” when you saw the temperature projections for today.

“There’s more back home,” you offer, “come out of the heat.”

“Okay, okay,” he chuckles. “I will wipe off first.”

You hum agreeably, watching him slip back upstairs with great enthusiasm. Konig in a tank top and those tight cargos… summer really is delivering this year.

That evening, you sigh as you recline across your huge bed, naked and cooling off with the night breeze rolling through your window. Ras and Shithead are happily distracted wrestling each other in your forgotten towel, and Little Guy is snoozing on his personal pillow.

You stretch out, feeling a bit decadent and indulgent with moonlight spilling over your body, and let your hands wander. It’s not the high-efficiency sleep-oriented wank you usually rush through, not this time.

You unspool memories of the day with each brush of your fingertips over moisturized skin. You hum as your skin tingles, imagining Konig’s calloused palms in place of yours. He’d be so surprisingly gentle, you’re sure. Big, strong hands but he’d play with you like a precious toy. Plucking your nipples and scratching his blunt nails over the plush of your hips.

As your breathing picks up, you see Krueger’s broad shoulders flexing behind your eyelids. Imagine them bullying between your thighs, hooking your knees over. That bright glint in his eye as he smirks against your cunt. Can practically feel the curl of his tongue around your clit, eating you out messy and mean.

You’re already halfway there when you curl two fingers into your pussy. You’re so wet that your fingers slip and slide, squelch lewdly as you rock your hips, trying to find just the right angle.

You imagine Nikto clicking his tongue at your struggle. Almost hear his low, hoarse voice chiding you for doing his job while he takes over. His fingers are so much thicker than yours, you have to press a third in just to maintain the fantasy.

You want to lean back against his broad chest while he strokes your walls, listen to him and Krueger and Konig talk about you like you’re not even there, debating if you should come. Ignore you as you beg and whimper, big hands pinning you down while they draw it out.

Please, please, please…

You clap a hand over your mouth just in time, hips jerking so hard that it makes your wrist ache.

Whoops.

Well, you doubt anyone heard. It’s pretty late, and you’re on the second story anyway.

Already sleepy, you’re too lazy to close the window after a pre-bed stop in the restroom. It’s such a nice night, after all.

First | Previous | Next

Masterlist

[friendlyneighborhoodshark]

"How to Life" Masterlist

Cleaning and Tidying

Make your bed in the morning. It takes seconds, and it's worth it.

Reset to zero each morning.

Use the UFYH 20/10 system for clearing your shit.

Have a 'drop-zone' box where you dump anything and everything. At the beginning/end of the day, clear it out and put that shit away.

Automate your chores. Have a cleaning schedule and assign 15mins daily to do whatever cleaning tasks are set for that day. Set a timer and do it once the timer is up, finish the task you're on and leave it for the day.

Fold your clothes straight out of the tumble dryer (if you use one), whilst they're still warm. This minimises creases and eliminates the need for ironing.

Clean your footwear regularly and you'll feel like a champ.

Organisation and Productivity

Learn from Eisenhower's Importance/Urgency matrix.

Try out the two-minute rule and the Pomodoro technique.

Use. A. Planner. (Or Google Calendar, if that's more your thing.)

Try bullet journalling.

Keep a notebook/journal/commonplace book to dump your brain contents in on the regular.

Set morning alarms at two-minute intervals rather than five, and stick your alarm on the other side of the room. It's brutal, but it works.

Set three main goals each day, with one of them being your #1 priority. Don't overload your to-do list or you'll hit overload paralysis and procrastinate.

If you're in a slump, however, don't be afraid to put things like "shower" on your to do list - that may be a big enough goal in itself, and that's okay.

Have a physical inbox - a tray, a folder, whatever. If you get a piece of paper, stick it in there and sort through it at the end of the week.

Consider utilising the GTD System, or a variation of it.

Try timeboxing.

Have a morning routine, and guard that quiet time ferociously.

Have a folder for all your important documents and letters, organised by topic (e.g. medical, bank, university, work, identification). At the front of this folder, have a sheet of paper with all the key information written on it, such as your GP's details, your passport details, driving licence details, bank account number, insurance number(s), and so on.

Schedule working time and down time alike, in the balance that works for you.

Money

Have. A. God. Damn. Budget.

Use a money tracker like toshl, mint, or splitwise. Enter all expenses asap! (You will forget, otherwise.)

Have a 'money date' each week, where you sort through your finances from the past seven days and then add it to a spreadsheet. This will help you identify your spending patterns and whether your budget is actually working or not.

Pack your own frickin' lunch like a grown-up and stop buying so many takeaway coffees. Keep snacks in your bag.

Food and Cooking

Know how to cook the basics: a starch, a protein, a vegetable, and a sauce.

Simple, one-pot meals ("a grain, a green, and a bean") are a godsend.

Batch cook and freeze. Make your own 'microwave meals'.

Buy dried goods to save money - rice and beans are a pittance.

Consider Meatless Mondays; it's healthier, cheaper, and more environmentally friendly.

Learn which fruits and vegetables are cheapest at your store, and build a standard weekly menu around those. (Also remember that frozen vegetables are cheap and healthy.)

Learn seasoning combinations. Different seasoning, even with the exact same ingredients, can make a dish seem completely new.

Misc

Have a stock email-writing format.

Want to start running, but find it boring? Try Zombies, Run!.

Keep a goddamn first aid kit and learn how to use it.

Update your CV regularly.

Keep a selection of stamps and standard envelopes for unexpected posting needs. (It happens more regularly than you would think!)

[cinellieroll]

☆ random obey me headcanons part 2!

asmodeus, levi and barbatos ♡

part one (lucifer, mammon and simeon)

part three (beelzebub, belphegor, solomon)

part four (satan and diavolo)

cw: some small nsfw on asmo's part :p

small note: thank you so much for the likes and reblogs! i never expected such a large majority of people to enjoy my content so it's very dear to me. once again, thank you!

☆ asmodeus:

- kinda bad at cooking. his way of slicing and dicing vegetables is very mediocre if not clumsy looking. there are days where his cooking is acceptable and days where it's to seasoned or too bland (always convinces himself its good tho and posts it on his devilgram)

- though he's kinda bad at cooking, his baking skills are okay! his favorite pastry to make are cookies because he can design them the most.

- "ofcourse mc! you'll always be the first one to try my desserts! unless you want to taste something else?~ ♡"

- he has a collection of sanrios, hironos and sonny angels in his room. ESPECIALLY sonny angels. crazy thing is he always gets them for free from his fans and its always the limited edition ones

- he really enjoys watching old movies from the human world especially the romcoms. mean girls, notting hill, pitch perfect. he will pester you to rewatch it with him even though you guys have seen it multiple times already.

- he keeps a small jewelry box in his room but instead of jewelry its full of pics of you and him and the gifts you give him. theres some pics in there where the other brothers were cut or crossed out so it'll be just you and him lmfao

- he is a yandere and i stand by this. it's not as obvious but if he's really into you he'll constantly mark you with his scent and the stuff he wears. he'll leave a hickey or a bite mark if you're lucky ;)

- the type of guy to only bring a purse to school. if you ask for a pencil the bitch is gonna open his bag and say "oopsie! i only brought my makeup pouch and mirror today. sorry babe!"

- has his own private concert in showers every goddamn day

- he'll either fangirl with you about celebrities or he'll get extremely jealous because you're simping for someone else.

☆ levi:

- sometimes his ass crack will be on display when he's sitting down on the floor

- wears booty shorts religiously. sometimes he'll casually just walk out his room wearing a hoodie and booty shorts with prints on it

- has a tumblr account where he posts a bunch of hc, drabbles and other shit and until now no one knows its him

- had an amino and discord phase where he always roleplayed with other people. till this day it haunts him at night

- he livestreams twice a week on twitch and has been scolded by lucifer on stream once. there was also a time where mammon barged in his room half naked and suddenly all the views went up 10x

- trolls on roblox like it's a 9 to 5 job

- every once in a while he'll stay in lucifers room while lucifer is doing paperwork. he'll just lay down on his bed, watch and play games and even fall asleep

- makes his own persona in every fandom he gets into and writes very detailed backstories (dw levi, same)

- only reads "x reader" fics for obvious reasons

- went insane because human world games and animes are better than the ones in devildom. dont get me started about aot. (his favorite is levi ackerman obvi)

☆ barbatos:

- wishes he could get piercings but since he's the demon prince's butler he obviously can't

- started tweakin when you said some humans keep rats and bugs as pets. like he stopped polishing some plates and looked at you like you just dog shitted diavolo's name

- really enjoys your spotify playlist filled with metalhead and grunge songs. he really likes slipknot

- likes to order those cute, fancy tea sets when he has the time. when you gifted him tea leaves and a limited edition teapot set his love for you sky rocketed.

- gets annoyed when solomon manspreads

- has a really good voice when he sings. he used to sing diavolo lullabies when his father would get angry at him

- scrolls through levi and mammon's post for educational purposes cuz he wants to learn slangs just incase diavolo asks him what a specific word means

- "barbatos, what does 'runnin from da opps' mean?"

- "my lord, 'runnin from da opps' is a slang made by the new generation. it means fleeing from your haters."

- loves to tailor and iron his bed sheets so he can have a peaceful rest after a long day of non stop errands.

[harleehazbinfics]

I like to think that with the cannibal chef overlord spin off that Chef has a 5 star restaurant and it’s Hell’s Kitchen (love that show) and when she’s not with Alastor or the others she’s kinda like Gordon with her employees (btw the souls she owns) idk I think that would be so funny!

Like Alastor sees her working and yelling at everyone and he just has heart eyes 😍

A moment in Hell's Greatest Kitchen [Cannibal Chef!Reader Spin-off]

a/n: ngl, i loved writing this. thank you for the ask!

Cannibal chef! reader m.list | Author profile

"YOU FUCKING IDIOTS! CAN'T YOU PREPARE A SIMPLE MEAL?"

I flinch at the sound as I almost cut my finger from chopping the vegetables. I peeked out of lashes to see my boss cussing out my co-workers while they cooked sweating profusely from the heat and the insults being thrown at them.

"EVERYONE CLEAN YOUR STATIONS! IT LOOKS LIKE A GODDAMN PIGSTY HERE. I'M RUNNING A RESTAURANT, NOT SOME ESTABLISHMENT WHERE YOU BRAIN DEAD LITTLE PIGGIES CAN SHIT IN."

I immediately threw my peels in the bin and wiped the counter then placing my knives back to their drawer.

This was my boss. Hell's largest Cannibal Overlord, (y/n). Aside being a household name in hell to be wary of, she was also a well-respected chef. I idolized her even before we died. I lived during her era and even got the opportunity to work in her restaurant when we were alive. It was tough to get in and work with her, but it was tougher to stay there. Thankfully, luck was on my side to work with her for 6 years before her death.

She was as mean as she was before, however, I do get jumpy at loud noises. She was tough on us, prioritizing the customer's satisfaction and cleanliness around the

Even after she was outed as a cannibal and was executed I devoted myself to her and followed after her. Which led me here.

"You! Daniel! Pick up the pace! Table's 5 and 10 are done with their appetizers," she yells at me making me flinch and nod.

"Yes, chef!" I replied making her give me a nod of acknowledgement. i blush while doing my duties as I replay her calling my name in my head. 'She remembers me!' I scream giggling in my head.

"Pardon me. I apologize for getting in your way," the tall red deer demon apologizes after bumping into me, I nod dismissing it and stirred the pot I already seasoned.

He gives me a tight-lipped smile and walks forward to a corner to avoid getting in our way. He stares at Chef (y/n) with adoring eyes and a large smile as she pinched a sinner by the ear and twisting it then screaming on it. Which the red hair only gives out a dreamy sigh.

That was Alastor, the Radio Demon. He and my boss had a very special relationship, it's quite intimate from what I've seen. From what I heard, Alastor approached Chef (y/n) and submitted his soul to her, and from then on, they were inseparable. Chef had a soft side when it came to him, she'd latch on to him and lean on him even often baby talking to him. It had us all stunned when she first introduced Alastor to us, her change in demeanor was very telling she liked him a lot.

So, whenever we were in a pinch.

"Uh! Chef! Sir Alastor is here!" another sinner tells her, in an attempt to save our co-worker.

You then turn to the direction they pointed and skipped towards the deer, "Alastor, honey!" she greets before giving him a kiss.

The sinners in the back on their knees thanking the Radio Demon for saving their asses.

"Good morning, madam," he greets holding onto her waist, "A lively morning, isn't it?"

"It's better now with you around," (y/n) coos as she snuggles deeper into his embrace.

And this is how every morning in Hell's Kitchen. Gore, Food and Love.

🔗Cannibal Chef! Reader Taglist:

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[squeakadeeks]

Can I be nosy and ask how you got scurvy. In exchange you can take anything you want from my fridge vegetable drawer

oh totally. the fact that i had scurvy remains one of the weirdest twists in this ol life o' mine.

part of this story is funny, the other part not so funny. (TW EDs)

the not so funny part is I got to the point of developing scurvy in an insanely predictable way. I've had a clinical ED all my adult life and a lot of the PSAs warn you about the surface level stuff like "your hair will fall out!" "you'll be tired all the time!" which....yeah. but if you restrict hard enough and long enough youre basically doing a "stranded on a desert island DIY POV" simulation. not to sugar coat it but I was deeply unwell and doing some absolutely Insane things. i was living hot Sir Ernest Shackleton boy summer. except it wasnt hot it was horrible and Shackleton probably wouldve been deeply disappointed and confused by the whole situation.

but as one would naturally imagine if you are tit for tat nutritionally larping as a castaway, you will. Develop Diseases. I remember suddenly noticing that my teeth looked like straight ass and I was getting mouth sores but I wasnt sure why. I developed a fever for weeks that i couldnt shake, the skin on my hands kept chafing off and my fingers would lock up, in general my skin was really bizzare looking with weird scabs and dark spots, and overall i felt utterly awful. Ive been struggling with this for awhile so some of that was my ""normal"" at the time so I didnt really connect the dots until I was reading something about scurvy and went "haha funny sailor disease" only to pause and realise that with my dietary habits, i hadnt eaten fruit or anything containing vitamin C in well over a full calendar year. this caused me to look up the symptoms of scurvy with dawning horror that this mystery onset of symptoms was disturbingly close to scurvy, prompting me to go to the dr and low and behold I basically had la croix flowing through my veins with how terrible my blood levels were.

I was moving out for grad school within the season and i really didnt want to start that with a goddamn captain hook ass disease so for months I had to macrodose on vitamin C like I was a prized guinea pig. seeing those huge tablets still gives me flashbacks.

what gets funny is literally within the week of learning I had scurvy....I also had a major ocular melanoma scare. of which one of the treatments is to surgically remove the eye and/or have eyepatches involved. so for a few months in the summer of 2021 i was hobbling around with scurvy and an eyepatch on this beautiful green world of ours.

[docholligay]

so i have never had a good stew with a flavor beyond tomato and meat, which begs the question: whats your favorite stew recipe?

Recipe is not a word I would associate with stew! I learned how to make stew at my mother's knee and it would never occur to me to measure a good goddamn thing to make one ahaha.

But! I do have tips to round out the flavor of stew, make it richer, meatier, deeply, more interesting broadly, which, it sounds like, is more of what you're asking?

I have actually never had a stew with a prominent tomato flavor. I"m going to assume you're east of the Mississippi where tomato in stew is more common, owing to a larger historical Italian population and higher availability of fresh tomatoes pre-WW2. Americans move a lot, now, so maybe not, but that's the historical "tomato stew' divide*.

ANYWAY. YOU DIDN'T ASK THAT.

Here's not, a recipe, but how I go about constructing a stew:

Grab my meat: Usually elk or deer for us, but beef is fine. DO NOT BUY A FANCY PIECE OF MEAT FOR THIS. Chuck or shoulder is best, buy whatever's cheap. Something that has to be, you know, stewed, for a long time. Cube your own meat, don't pay the premium for stew meat.

To that point, make sure before you start anything that you have a lot of time to let it stew. This is what makes the flavors mingle deliciously. If I REALLY want to blow someone's tits off I actually make it the day before and reheat it. Tastes better the next day.

I take the meat and I toss it flour and some Alpine Touch, which is a Montana ~spice blend~ but when it comes down to it is mostly, salt, Pepper, MSG, garlic and onion.

Throw a pat of butter in the bottom of the pan and let it melt. Toss in your meat. Make sure you give it a chance to brown before stirring it at all. While it's browning, cut up onions, carrots, and celery, all in pretty big chunks if you're me and are lazy. Remember, they will get very soft, so small stuff will just disintegrate. If you want to do this because you live with children who can't see veggies, be my guest I suppose.

stir the meat in the pot and let it brown some more. You're not trying to cook the meat through, jsut brown it. When it's done, bring it out, toss in another pat of butter if you need it, and throw in your vegetables with salt and pepper at the least, but also now's a good time for some garlic. Let it saute until the onions are clearish, kinda.

Now deglaze! For this I use a big thick stout beer. I think it contributes a lot of richness. You can also use broth, but it doesn't add as much. Red wine also works, but you have to be more careful with the seasoning. Stout beer is honestly the best choice. I usually make a big pot of stew so I use the whole can, but your mileage may vary. Make sure you scrape the bits from the bottom of the pan, that's flavor!

Now fill up your pot with broth or water, or water with better than bouillon. Obviously broth is better, and homemade stock is best, but like, life is imperfect and we all go into death alone so just make the goddamn stew best you can.

Add potatoes! I am the laziest motherfucker on earth, so I buy the tiny creamer potatoes and cut the bigger ones in half. Then add some mushrooms, quartered or halved. This will ALSO contribute to the meatiness of the recipe--sometimes I add dried mushroom powder also, as a cheat. A little bit of smoked paprika can also be good, but be careful with it as the smoke can quickly overpower.

For seasoning, it depends on what I've got, honestly. You can make a fresh herb bundle from stuff at your grocery store: Parsley, thyme, oregano, all good. Rosemary and sage CAN be good but require a more deft and careful hand than "Tie it in a bundle and toss it into the soup" and again, LAZY. You can also use chopped dried herbs, I often add those at the beginning of my simmer so I can adjust later. Add salt! Add pepper!

The real secret here is letting it simmer for hours, covered. Come back every hour or so and taste it. Add salt or pepper or whatever as you need.

Then at the very end, thicken with cornstarch. You'll have to add too much flour, usually, and it'll impart an off flavor. You can also use other thickeners, but they have a higher level of difficulty and I wouldn't use them unless my family was weirdly allergic to corn or something, in which case I'm sure you're familiar with alternatives.

You have stew!

*I THINK I read this in Food of A Younger Land, but I read so many food history books I might be misattributing.

[sim0nril3y]

Let’s be honest, Simon is probably the better cook in the relationship. You’ll try your best to make something special but half the time it’ll come out the oven a burnt mess and you’ll be making some excuse for what your forgot to take it out half an hour ago. Goddamn that boy loves you so much he’ll actually attempt to eat it, grimacing on every chew whilst your brightly say “it’s not so bad, is it!” And to show willing he’ll take another hearty bite reminding himself how much he loves you as he forces it down his throat. This was fucking torture - trust him, he knows… he’s been tortured before!

After one too many of those meals Simon would appear in the kitchen way more often, even when you assure that you have everything under control at first he’ll just observe the way you flit from one thing to another haphazardly, leaving pasta boiling rapidly on the hob whilst you cut some vegetables very dangerously with a knife. He has to intervene then, turning down the hob and the moving over. “Here, love. Let me help. Put me to work.” Simon doesn’t want to make you feel bad. He’d rather try and help subtly than make you feel less than. “You’re good with a knife.” You’ll comment and he’ll smirk and shrug easily.

Sometimes when you were working longer hours Simon would just do the whole job for you. Coming home surprised to find dinner waiting on the table, you hungrily eat and everything is perfectly seasoned, perfectly cooked, not a damn thing burnt. “Wow. This is amazing. I can’t get that bloody oven to work, how did you do this?” He’ll feel a sense of pride knowing that you’re eating a good meal and thank god he doesn’t have to suffer another burnt offering.

[historia-vitae-magistras]

I enjoyed your food and eating habits thoughts for Matt and Alfred as it's a nice little insight into their everyday lifestyle and mannerisms <3 Any thoughts on Arthur "forgets to eat until his stomach growls and his hands shake" Kirkland and Jack and Zee? Or for the UK bros or Francis if that more takes your fancy? <3 Thank you!

Rhys is a really good cook. Bara brith, Welsh rarebit, cawl, laverbread. The man knows what he's about. He's the second youngest in my set up but still a good deal older than Arthur so he grows up in a world where his mother is literally worshipped as a goddess. I put her right smack on the middle of a giant pile of tin which was famously the best and highest quality stuff in a world where it was desperately needed to create bronze. He grows up in stone wheelhouses with defensive towers set inside a ring fort and with that came a correspondingly decent diet. High protein, wealth being often valued less in cash than in cattle. Maman is importing gold from Ireland and wine from southern France and Greek trade goods are found. He suffers a lot of misery and violence as a young adult and that does affect his tastes in food but he never loses sight of the fact it should actually taste good. He's definitely a bit heavy on the pies and stews and he hasn't been able to entirely reconcile himself to the fact that it no longer a bit suspect of people who are wealthy enough to afford meat to not eat meat. The man has opinions on food. Lamb, mutton, leeks, cheese. He can have a conversation about it, okay. And he's very particular about how he enjoys said food. and not to dip too deep into the stereotypes but god fucking bless the Welsh for exporting the leek. The Anglo-Celtic diaspora owe a debt we will never be able to repay for the one goddamn allium that Brits seemed to actually like pre-war. He's definitely someone who's moods will be affected by when he last ate and how the food was and food is a pretty big love language for him. When he's trying to shack up with the neighbors in Brittany or Jersey or Manx the food is definitely an incentive to stay for breakfast.

Arthur for me is really interesting because he knows how to make decent food. He knows what makes food taste decent. He's had a feasting culture his entire fricken existence before 1800. Where you lose him is when trying to convince him food should taste good most if not all of the time. The Roman or perhaps slightly post roman world he's born to and raised in is one where luxury goods are coming in with spices and new vegetables and fruits are being introduced so he's had flavour from the very fucking beginning but still entirely regards it as optional. Food as a pleasure is almost alien in his brain for some reason. Late antiquity wasn't a great time for him but the slingshot extremism between everything has to be flavored with all the spices and um actually, food that tastes good is illegal is just so variable with this one. England is lush and fertile and there's no shortage of food at any point in history worse than the neighbors but you wouldn't fucken know it the way Arthur eats and hates joy. I think his outsized amount of power as an adult contributes to this habit of 'oh I'll just ride the extra battery pack that is being the weird patron saint of a rainy third of Great Britain. Wait, what do you mean I have to season my fucken food? And when that's behind him after WW2, he's increasingly irritated by the fact calories are indeed mandatory to survive. Man's taste buds never recovered from rationing in too many ways. Last 30 years he's kind of slipped towards enjoying food. The man has discovered garlic powder exists at least. Only trouble there is that now he experiments and god have mercy on his loved ones bowels. Plum sauce does not go in the spagbol please and thank you.

Zee is... More like her father than she'd like to admit. She really can be perfectly content with a cheese and marmite toastie and a cup of tea. Or one of her best inventions, instant coffee. She's got higher standards in that she generally prefers her food to be edible which is not something the medieval fucks listed above will always care about. She really really likes the act of eating as a social thing. Hangi made together in a large group, women gathered in the kitchen to make things like whitebait fritters and roasted muttonbird. She almost never ever, even when she is entitled to by one status or another took her food in her room and was always at breakfast in the morning. She always eats with people when she can. Food is almost more of an action or event to her than just personal pleasure. She's got a real weakness for fresh fruit. Just consumes batshit amounts of berries. Looking at her grocery bill is probably very funny because it's like, six items she'll rotate out for a fortnight at a time and then a fucken pile of expensive produce. Extremely fond of fish in general as well. She can cook but if anyone else present wants to take point, fine by her. She's very happy to perch on Jack's kitchen counter/bench and drink his good wine while he cooks. She might be described as slightly picky in some specific aspects especially when seafood is involved but she's really not going to have her entire life derailed because whatever her last meal wasn't great. When she was little, she didn't mind a boiled pudding or porridge for breakfast as long as it wasn't completely god awful. She's fonder of like the classic tea room sweet pastries than she'd like to admit and she's got a serious weakness for weird flavors of chocolate like a buttered toast chocolate bar and pineapple lumps. Food can be a tool of survival to her no problem, even if it's not great as well. Generally, she remembers to eat.

Jack cares a lot about food. In the immortal words of @paperbarks he's got the accent of a gold coast Hoon but the taste buds and pickiness of a Barossa sommelier. He's got that golden Mediterranean-esque climate. Sugar grows, mangos grow, finger limes are everywhere, stone fruit is plentiful. Jack wants food to taste excellent all of the time. That's not to say he's picky as in he's not going to absolutely demolish a meat pie or a chiko roll or douse his fries in chicken salt because he absolutely is but he'll genuinely ponder what wine goes best with that and how to keep Zee from drinking it all before he's even plated up dinner. His moods get absolutely fucking foul when he doesn't eat too. He's the second youngest and generally pretty chill and doesn't take all that much seriously but when he's hungry or something is genuinely shit, no one's having a good time. It was a struggle keeping his ass completely fed when he was young and food was seasonal and gonna suck a good part of the year. By far, he's the person most likely to complain about food in any given time. Also my god he can make a good cup of coffee. Chronic snacker too. All of them have some pretty serious appetites but he's probably up there tied with anyone else.

[gowns]

you know, they tell you all about childhood wonder, but i made spaghetti squash last night, and i told my 6 year old, "look! this looks like an ordinary squash, but look what happens when you cook it! it's going to turn into spaghetti!" and i roasted it and took it out of the oven and showed her, "look! look! check this out! it's like magic! spaghetti!!!!" digging my fork into the squash, the little strings coming out looking so goddamn much like spaghetti, in a way that still amazes me, as an adult, even though i've seen it happen before, it's still incredible to me, holy shit, here's this thing that grows out of the ground and we figured out that if you roast it the insides look identical to this other thing that exists, that is also edible, and they taste pretty good with the same seasonings and sauces.

"look! the squash turned into spaghetti! holy cow!" i even wrapped the strings around my fork, like a spaghetti commercial.

my 6 year old looked at my fork, looked at me, with a world weary glare, then rolled her eyes. "i'm not going to eat that." "ok, ok, you don't have to eat it, but isn't it cool?! how does it do that?!" "whatever." whatever! how can you whatever seeing a spaghetti squash for the first time?!

i tell you, we were sold a bill of goods about childhood wonder. there are so many things that amaze me that don't amaze my kids.

when i think about it, i remember that i was the same way, when i was that age, when i learned to read bigger books; i read a few science books, then i felt like i knew everything, and nothing amazed me anymore, everything that could be imagined had already happened. everything had a rational explanation. christmas lights were just electricity. mickey mouse is just a guy in a costume. vegetables are just vegetables and not that exciting; food doesn't need to be exciting, after all, it just needs to be safe and familiar.

--

just a few hours after the spaghetti squash, after i had put them to bed -- i heard the gentle click of my kid's bedroom door. her head popped into the bathroom, where i was taking a bath.

"i can't go to sleep, because i'm afraid."

"afraid of what?"

"i was watching a show about rattlesnakes, and a gila monster was about to eat them, and i turned it off, but now i'm still thinking -- what if i was a snake, and a gila monster was about to eat me?"

"...well, you are very lucky, because you are not a snake. and there are no gila monsters here."

"yes, but what if i was a snake? and what if there was a gila monster?"

"but you are a kid, and you are safe in your bedroom."

"but what if i wasn't?"

--

what i love about kids is that they are full of surprises. you can't predict how they'll react to things. adults follow scripts, but kids write their own. especially in these brief, precious years -- between 4 and 10 -- when they have enough language to communicate and process the world, but they're not following any scripts yet. and they have big emotions because they bristle against all the scripts being presented to them.

so you get all these funny contrasts -- the big christmas decorations are "whatever," but what's really fun is twisting these fuzzy pipe cleaners together. this toy doll is kind of fun, but what's really fun is pouring water in her mouth until she's sopping wet, cracking up because it's like she peed all over herself, then deciding to take a bath at noon. (taking a bath at noon is fun, taking a bath at bathtime is not.) the "make your own cookie" pre-made set is not fun, but mixing a big bowl of flour until everything is covered in white definitely is.

i love them because they're right. because we're both right. because they fill my life with contrasts. the spaghetti squash IS amazing, and it's ALSO pretty boring. coloring on paper IS limited fun, coloring on walls DOES feel liberating. it's true that we are not snakes, but what if we WERE?

we are always showing each other alternative ways of being!

[taijuslegalwife]

⋆𐙚₊˚ Mr.Chef

Taiju Shiba x Reader

warnings: usage of pet names(princess,brat), established relationship, female pronouns, female reader.

While (y/n) was at work, Taiju took it upon himself to do something special. That special thing just so happened to be making his girlfriend dinner. He waited for her to leave for the day and as soon as she had shut the door to their house he raced into the kitchen and laced up her medium-sized pink and white apron hung neatly in the kitchen, grabbed a metal pan from the cabinets below and started up the stove. Taiju paused for a moment when he realized he didn’t know what to cook—he began panicking quietly as he took to his phone to search online for some easy beginners recipes.

“Goddamn, Nothin’ good on this stupid site.” 

Taiju’s grip on the phone tightened as he kept scrolling through the many recipes listed, growing more and more agitated as he found no recipe he deemed good enough for his girlfriend. His piercing yellow eyes scanned the phone screen religiously until he found the perfect recipe. A ‘One-Pan Pork Tenderloin’ with tomatoes,potatoes,and spinach. Taiju immediately rested his phone on a steady wooden knife-holder as he reached over into the large black refrigerator, pulling out vegetables of all colors and the main ingredient; the lovely pork tenderloin. Taiju carefully reached up into the spice rack above him and steadily pulled out all the spices he required, and began to combine the cumin, allspice, turmeric, paprika, salt and a generous amount of black pepper in a large bowl. He lazily slapped the pork tenderloin into the bowl and tossed it around evenly to coat it completely in the spice mixture.

After the pork was properly seasoned, Taiju threw some oil skillfully into the heated pan along with the pork settled in the middle. While the pork cooked he tossed the sliced potatoes and tomatoes, adding in some sliced lemon for some flavor. He wiped some sweat quickly off of his pale forehead and swept some baby hairs that were sticking to his skin due to the rising heat in the kitchen. He bent over to read the instructions once more before covering the pork and letting it cook on low. His large, veiny pale hand immediately untied the restricting apron off of his large scale, neatly  placing it on the kitchen counter in a quaint fold. Taiju pulled one of the stools from his kitchen island over near the stove to watch the pork carefully, not wanting to mess up this surprise dinner for his beloved. 

╭────── · · ୨୧ · · ──────╮

Taiju had gotten lost on his own devices and before he knew it the oven beeped, reminding him about his cooking dinner ready to be served. He immediately remembered about the meal and quickly swiped back to his tab saved with the recipe before standing up and lifting the pan lid off of the pan. He picked up some tongs sitting in a nearby cabinet before picking up the cooked pork and placing it on the cutting board carefully as to not ruin it. Taiju felt an unconscious smile creep up his face in pure satisfaction at how well the tenderloin had turned out. He picked up a sharp kitchen knife and was about to slice the meat perfectly when he heard the doorknob jiggle. Panic set in as he soon heard his beautiful girlfriend announce her arrival early from work, Taiju quickly ran to take the pan off of the stove so that the vegetables wouldn’t burn and hid the meat behind him as he watched (y/n) walk inside.

(Y/n) immediately picked up on the smell of the freshly cooked meat and smiled accordingly, “Oh wow, what is that? It smells great!” Taiju just stared her down silently as he watched her approach him into the kitchen. He eyed her gently for a moment before speaking out in his soothing deep voice, “It’s nothing, princess. Don’t worry your pretty little head off about it.” He attempted to try and lure her away from the kitchen so he could continue to prepare the meal in peace without his surprise being ruined.

 As Taiju leaned in to wrap (y/n) into a bear-hug she sneakily peaked around his large figure, spotting the delicious dinner behind him. Realizing his surprise was found out he stepped to the side and bellowed out laughter, “Aw damn. You found me out. Should I not serve you for being so disobedient?” Taiju playfully teased her as he snuck a warm finger underneath her chin. He leaned in before connecting their lips together in a warm embrace, whispering in her ear right before, “Your welcome, brat.”

[c-o-t-o]

Akira dreams of Akechi

Author: c-o-t-o

Characters: Akira Kurusu x Goro Akechi

CW: none, sfw

Misc: ~1.4k words

About: Akira dreamt that Akechi cooked for him and tells Akechi about it. In the hopes that acting it out will stop Akira from dreaming about him constantly, Akechi pays a visit to LeBlanc to prepare a home cooked meal.

*Do not remove info or credit from posts when reblogging or sharing!*

‘I had a dream where Akechi made a home-cooked meal for me…’ Akira recalled to himself upon waking up. He grabs his phone that's half stuck under a sleeping Mona to tell Akechi about it.

“Another dream about me?" Akechi responds. “At least it's better than the dream you had of us at the beach with your bathing suit shorts washing away…"

Akira chuckled. He didn't know why he was always dreaming of Akechi, but lately he found himself enjoying those dreams more and more. As he and Akechi became closer friends, those dreams started to feel somewhat warm and fuzzy to him. Akira found himself feeling flustered around Akechi now, sometimes getting nervous for no real reason.

Akira got up and ready to help Sojiro downstairs in the cafe for his morning regulars. Sojiro was teaching Akira how to roast his own coffee beans, about the different kinds of roasts and brewing methods, and he kind of loved it. He was able to make drinks for the regulars now, some say even better than Sojiro himself.

Around noon when it quieted down, Akira was startled by the bell suddenly ringing from the front door opening. A customer around this time?

To his surprise, it was Akechi. More specifically, Akechi holding a shopping bag with a look of annoyance on his face.

“I'm here to…” Akechi’s face contorts as if he doesn't want to say the words. "I'm here to make you a home cooked meal. Maybe this will stop you from having all those goddamn dreams about me.”

Akira stands behind the counter in his apron blushing, trying to figure out if he's excited about the idea of Akechi cooking for him, or if he's nervous because they're alone. They've spent so much time together before, but it was usually in a public place with others around. It's been a while since the two of them have been alone by themselves. Especially since Akira started having these dreams and feelings.

Akechi takes his jacket off, rolling up his sleeves, and putting a spare apron on as he rounds the counter. He starts tying his apron at his back when he looks at Akira whose cheeks are still red. Akechi huffs through his nose, still looking annoyed.

“Don't get excited about this, I'm only doing it so that your freaky dreams about me stop. Maybe if I can act out one of your dreams it'll satisfy your subconscious." Akechi combs his fingers through his hair. “And then you can stop texting me EVERY MORNING about them."

Akira awkwardly smiles as Akechi brings the groceries into the kitchen. He didn't realize he was bothering Akechi with all his texts about his dreams, but at the very least it lead to them hanging out again.

“Usually curry is everyone's go-to for a simple meal, but I won't attempt that here. Even I know I'd be a fool for trying to make curry in Sojiro’s place.” Akechi takes the ingredients out one by one, looking at some almost questioningly, before placing them on the counter.

Akira starts looking through the ingredients when Akechi lightly slaps his hand away.

“No. I have to be the one to cook it all, or this might not work.” Akechi's eyebrows narrow as pinches the bridge of his nose. " Why don't you… go sit down or something.”

Akechi flicks his phone screen with his thumb to scroll through the recipe he found online for some stew. He figured it would be hard to mess up something where all he had to do was boil chunks of beef and vegetables together and add some sauces and seasonings.

“Simple enough," Akechi mutters to himself. As he starts chopping the vegetables he looks up to see Akira watching him from the counter, chin resting on his folded hands. “Why are you so quiet? You haven't said a word since I came here." Akechi said with an air of annoyance.

“Sorry," Akira mutters softly. "First I dreamt you were cooking for me, and now you're actually here... I'm just excited."

Akechi's face becomes flush, so he lets his hair fall over his face to cover up the red that has spread across his cheeks. He breathes out quickly through his nose as if to laugh.

Akira studies Akechi carefully, noticing that he's following a video as he chops everything and adds ingredients to the pot.

‘How much did he prepare for this? He even found a video to make sure he did it right,’ Akira thinks to himself.

While Akechi finishes cooking, Akira brews coffee for them with beans he had just roasted a few days ago. He had been letting them rest for a few days and was excited to finally try them.

Finally, Akchi walks two bowls over to the bar counter and places the bowls by each of their coffee cups. He looks at Akira questioningly at the sight of the drinks.

“I roasted and brewed this coffee myself, I hope you like it." He grabs the coffee cup and holds it up to his mouth as a way to use his hands to hide his blush. The flavor was deep and chocolatey and came out even better than he expected.

As Akechi sat down next to him, his leg and arm brushed against Akira’s, causing him to momentarily choke at the feeling. Why was he getting so flustered? Although… now he notices a faint smell of cologne coming from Akechi. Did he always have some on? Was it only today? Before his thoughts could wander more, Akechi grumbles and holds a spoon of stew out to Akira.

“C’mon already. Eat. Before it gets cold…” Akechi says with a look of annoyance on his face. It quickly turns to one of embarrassment as Akira takes the bite from the spoon being offered to him. Akechi opens his mouth to retort, but closes it, blushing. Looking away with his eyes, he asks Akira how it tastes.

“It's really good, I can't believe it." Akira’s eyes widen in surprise as he eats the stew. He honestly expected Akechi to mess it up somehow.

“Why are you so surprised? It doesn't take a genius to follow a recipe…” Akichi retorts. He stops himself though, and sighs. Still looking away, he slightly mumbles, “Thank you. I'm glad you like it."

Without thinking about it, Akechi uses the same spoon he just fed Akira with and uses it to feed himself. Akira stares at him completely blushed at the same moment Akechi freezes with the spoon in his mouth, suddenly realizing the same thing. Him eating from the same spoon is like sharing an indirect kiss. He slowly pulls the spoon out of his mouth and chews his food, eyes spaced out on nothing in particular ahead of him.

“Not. A. Word." Akechi threatens.

Neither of them realized that Mona had wandered downstairs. All he knew was that the two of them were eating and suddenly heard Akechi threatening Akira. Out of spite, Mona jumped up on the counter and swiped Akechi's bowl off the table. Akira heard Mona snickering to himself before running off somewhere.

“Aaghhh! Your cat! He-" Akechi stands up abruptly and tries to wipe the stew off his clothes. “My stew! My clothes…” he said aggravated.

"I'm so sorry! Let me get you a change of clothes so I can wash yours.” Akira pleads. After a few minutes, Akechi returns wearing Akira’s spare gym clothes. " I'm sorry about him,” Akira says, referring to Mona. "And I'm sorry we didn't really get to eat your stew.”

Akechi sits at the countertop that Akira cleaned while he changed. He takes the warm coffee in his hands and, after sipping it, grimaces.

“Damn it," he quietly mutters to himself. “How is this so good…” he continues drinking Akira's coffee with a mixture of satisfaction and annoyance. In the end, he wasn't really able to give Akira a home cooked meal, not completely. And Akira brewed this incredible coffee, somewhat outdoing anything Akechi could have made.

Akechi tries to rack his brain for ideas on how to live out one of Akira's dreams so that maybe they'll finally stop. He really believes acting one of them out might satisfy Akira enough. He rests the coffee cup on the counter, still holding it to warm his hands. Akechi looks down into the coffee, once again letting his hair fall over his face to hide the immense blush covering it when he asks Akira his question shyly.

“Should we… try going to the beach next time…?”

[ardate]

8, 15, 23 for the Simpsons oc asks? :)

[Simpsons OC Ask Game]

8 – Is there something your OC is good at? Or something they’d more likely fail no matter how much they’d try?

She's a pretty good cook! Rather necessary in her job at the diner - even if what they serve isn't anything stellar and always has to be prepared quickly - but then she rarely cooks anything nice for herself once at home because after doing that all day? She'd much rather pop some cheap tv dinner in her microwave and vegetate until her next shift. Unless she has company of course... She'll cook stuff to try and impress other housewives at the meetings, for one. Good cooking is like a goddamn social currency at those meetups.

As for the failures well. She'll always fail at getting good relationships, that's her deadly flaw bHGBh

15 – If they were in the show, what would be your OC’s main gimmick? Similarly, what would more likely happen to them in an episode?

Probably her denial which is a big part of her character LMAO, although for something more tangible I'd say her getting tricked into participating in various criminal schemes by Snake... Be it helping him escape the penitentiary, or even helping him with actual criminal acts like being the escape vehicle waiting outside a bank he's breaking into. All by being told this is all part of a date, somehow. Massive sucker.

That's essentially the gist of what would happen to her in a snake-centric episode (her housewife eps would focus on other things), although by some miracle she (almost?) never gets punished for essentially being an accomplice to various crimes. She's lucky in her bad luck, and though I assume in the many many seasons this show has she'd still land behind bars shortly here and there, the majority of the time she walks free. Yay Ann-Doreen?

23 – Hmmmm donuts…. Where would your OC stop by for a snack? Any food or drink they love in particular?

Besides helping herself to food and coffee at Cora's Diner where she works, she'll sometimes get herself some Krusty Burger or go out to a café, but she'll rarely treat herself to anything nicer due to her tight budget. When she does it's usually in social situations, with her housewife friends or with her dates, for which she'll allow herself something a tad fancier.

She's a big wine enjoyer (stereotypical suburb wine mom, without the 'mom' part), the type to lounge in a bubble bath with a glass to relax from a long day at work... Although she also enjoys beer and often has a couple handily waiting in her fridge in case of emergency. As for food, she likes when it's expensive and somebody else pays for it.

[existentialterror]

One (1) discount fear please.

Now don't tell anyone else but this great vegetable is the reason I was trying really hard to get all these fears out the door rather than just dumping them in a city park after the season ended. Sorry to keep you waiting. Now this is a NICE goddamn turnip. Look at the color on this bad boy. Saw it while you were standing in line and was like oh that is a fine vegetable if ever I have seen one.

YOUR DISCOUNT FEAR:

A tall tower standing in a swamp. The inside is just one winding staircase, all the way up, all stairs, with no railing, and a huge gap in the middle, so you have to hug the wall because of the horror of this huge pit. There's one missing step 75% of the way up. It leads up and up to one room, at the very top. And what's in the top? Skeleton wizard.

THANK YOU for your purchase.

Vegetable counter: 41 (avocado, snap pea, onion, strawberry, 3 carrots, 1 caret, cucumber, cucumber salad, 3 broccolis, sweet potato, 2 letti, 3 garlics, asparagus, moshroom, mushroom, flesh tomato, regular tomato, pumpkin, pepper (green), pepper (extremely spicy), 3 potatoes, 2 butternut squashes, 2 corns, green bean, bean sprouts, kohlrabi, cubes???, beet, zucchini, turnip)

[ciellunee]

Seeing him tonight, it's a bad idea, right?

Pairing- Nanami kento X reader

Chapter 2- And I know we're done, I know we're through,But, God, when I look at you

Synopsis- kento Nanami is your ex-boyfriend. He's cold, stoic, and more importantly, the crush of your new friend. Being the good friend you always are, you should keep your hands off him, but..... can you?

Chapter 1-

Nanami kento recently rejoined jujustsu high, and you couldn't understand your feelings regarding the news. Texting nanami was either the best or the worst decision, but thankfully for you, it didn't go that bad....

You knew nanami. This is exactly how he responds... he's a stoic man. You knew everything yet your stomach churned, as if expecting something different. "He moved on, and so should I," was your mantra. You kept chanting it. It was stupid, but it reminded you of the necessary.

Packing your lunch, you knew you'll meet him today since every teacher at jujutsu High shares the same staff room. You promised to compose yourself. You have to. You want to you need to.

It was quite a hectic day. Your eyes tearing and burning from working long hours in dim light. The autopsy was rather difficult because of the cursed technique used. Finally, after filling out the report analysis, you opened your phone, getting tons of messages from the group chat.

The idea of your co-worker and your ex-boyfriend together made you nauseous. You never thought about it, nanami with some other girl, it was made you break into cold sweat. You never got to move on. Why does he? He broke your heart. He made your life harder, every night you'd cry yourself to sleep wishing that kento would reverse his decision of leaving you and just come back to you after all, wasn't he truly happy with you too?

Pushing the thoughts aside, you checked the time. 3:25, the lunch was over, and you were starving. Since all your work for the day was finished, you decided to eat your lunch in peace in the empty staff room.

Your bento box had eggs and chicken with rice and curry in different smaller containers. Everything was freshly prepared by you that morning. You remember how kento loved having your meals because they just "tasted better and fresh."

Your peace was soon interrupted by the staff room door opening. The blond you didn't really wished to see standing in the doorway. He took one glance at you, his poker face doesn't show any emotion. You shift uncomfortably trying to focus on your food as you scroll through the recipe book on your desk.

The blonde took his seat at the corner of the table and took out a book himself. You couldn't help but look at him. His face was stressed yet somehow relaxed. His crisp suit had no crease, and you knew he smelled absolutely amazing. You missed being in his arms. The only thing you wanted was for him to pull you in his arms and let you marinate in the aroma of him and his cologne. A sigh escapes your lips.

No class? You ask

None. I thought taking a break to read would be nice. What about you? Didn't see you at lunch

Ah, I had a case, quite a difficult one. Was finishing up reports during lunch. I'm starving. You motioned to the bento box, "want some?"

He loved your cooking, but you were sceptical if you crossed a line asking him to eat.

Sure. He smiled. Goddamn that smile.

He came closer and took a seat beside you. Taking a pair of chopsticks, kento dug into your lunch. Smiling as he enjoyed the nostalgic taste. The vegetables tasted fresh and crisp. Chicken was well seasoned and rice was perfectly cooked. You just knew how to hit the spot.

"Delicious!" He commented, and took another bite of rice and chicken. I've missed your cooking so much. He said, not paying attention to your now reddened cheeks.

Suddenly you were too full to eat anything. In awe to see your kento delightfully eating. You loved that man and no matter how much time passes, you cannot let go.

A sudden click of door takes you out of your thoughts, it's Midori along with Yuuji Itadori who's carrying a bunch of papers for her.

"Sensei!" Little angel greets you before turning to nanami.

Nanamin! Ooh, gojo sensei was looking for you, I'll tell you you're here with y/n sensei.

Your chuckle makes nanami a little embarrassed. 'Don't call me thar itadori kun. And no need to call gojo San over. I'll contact him myself Don't worry.'

"But I think it's a cute name nanami San..."

Midori your newest friend and co-worker whined, placing the papers on her desk she sat on the edge of the table in front of nanami. Na-Na-MiN sounds adorable.

Midori's voice made something inside you snap but you had to keep your cool, after all, you guys weren't together or anything. Yuuji excused himself while nanami and midori went on bout their days. Jealousy wasn't even near what you felt. A part of you was sad seeing kento so happy and cheerful while talking to midori, he deserved it all but just why.......why couldn't it be with you???

[thisisstarfleet]

Improvised Chili

Wait until 3am

Start by browning your meat.  I used 1 lb ground pork and 2 lb ground beef, both 80/20, along with a bit of salt and fresh ground black pepper.

Drain as much fat from your meat as you can without spilling the meat in the sink.  Add the meat and remaining fat into your slow cooker.

Dice 1 large yellow onion and add to slow cooker.

Gather your canned ingredients.  Realize that you don’t have enough of anything to make this the usual way.

Open a 28oz can of whole peeled tomatoes.  Pour the liquid into the slow cooker, then use an immersion blender on the tomatoes directly in the can.  Do a bad job so there is some puree and some basically still whole tomatoes.  Add to slow cooker.

Add 1 15oz can of diced tomatoes and 1 10oz can of Rotel tomatoes and chilis to the slow cooker.

Add 1 15oz can of kidney beans, 1 15oz can of pinto beans, and 1 15oz can of black beans, including liquid, to the slow cooker.

Add 3 packages of chili seasoning mix (I used 2 regular heat reduced sodium and 1 hot normal sodium).

Stir and set to low heat for 8 hours.

It is now 3:45am.  Go to bed.

Wake up at noon, stir and taste chili.  It’s ok.

Wait 90 minutes for your cousin who said he was probably coming over, then decide you can’t wait any longer and have a small bowl.  It’s still ok.

Wait 90 more minutes.  Still no cousin.  Have a second bowl, this time with some shredded cheese sprinkled in.  It’s still just ok.

Add in a few heavy sprinkles each of: garlic powder, cumin powder, chili powder, cayenne, smoked paprika, and cinnamon.  Stir and return to low heat for an hour.

Leave on warm until you get hungry again.  It’s a lot better than ok this time.  Eat two bowls.

Put the leftovers away and realize you should probably eat a goddamn vegetable at some point and it’s 10pm now.