#Tomato Juice(Cold)

[mrgaretcarter]

got excited about my grocery store run, not the act itself, but the purchase, i was looking at the cart all excited about the things ill make with my little ingredients

[thepajamamen]

Beautiful treat for me

[werothegreat]

Any caterer that puts wet things on pre-made sandwiches intended for a large crowd deserves public disintegration

[bluemooncove]

@multimuseticles random unannounced plot based starter

Dragoon had been having an uncharacteristically nice day before it happened. The weather had felt perfect and the evening night was surprisingly temperate given the season. Every year she spent most of her summer on the island cradled around an icebox. This was one of the few cool nights where she made the decision to leave the shelter of the guild hall and spent an evening in the courtyard.

The sun had set to just the necessary extent for stars to become visible overhead. Elbeth was a world without electricity. There was no skyline of lights to degrade the luster of the sky above. Each was beautiful. Laying on her back upon the pondside bench, it felt as if nothing could disturb this peaceful moment. She was wrong.

The light of the heavens were suddenly drowned out by a flash in the air only about five feet to her right. It lingered just long enough for her to spot an outline in the flash. A dark shape that seemed to resemble a person. Then the light was gone. It was followed quickly by a splash. A woman had fallen into the courtyard's tomato pond!

There wasn't time to think! A second splash followed the first as Dragoon dove into the pond. She didn't particularly like the water but she couldn't let a guildmate be hurt. The pond was not particularly deep, only seven feet, so it was not long before Dragoon was wrapping her arms around the woman and breaking to the surface. Not much longer that she pulled her onto land.

It was then that Dragoon had the chance to examine the girl. She had assumed a guildmember had wandered out to the courtyard and fallen in. This was no guildmate, at least not one that she knew. Red twintails, a white eyepatch, and a tiny hat. It was a very unique look and one Dragoon hadn't seen in their halls. In fact, she wasn't sure she'd ever seen an outfit anything like this.

"And who exactly are you?"

The answer was obvious. An intruder. Her gaze shifted to the opposite side of the pond. In her rush to help the other she'd tossed her man's dragon to the side. It lay a good seven feet away from them now, with a pit of water between them. Her ears twitched. A set of catlike claws sprouted from her fingers as her vision shifted back towards the intruder. Towards Hatsue.

[two-calicos-in-a-trenchcoat]

I got tiny v8 cans

[menubot]

In 1948, Tomato Juice(Cold) for only $0.15 at Alioto's No. 8 http://menus.nypl.org/menus/30012

[motomamita]

viking!könig × female!villager!reader

warnings: smut, +18, possesive!könig, breeding kink, kidnapping, mentions of rape and virginity!!

Viking!König who, along with his warriors, disembark in a small village located by the sea. Dressed in animal skins, swords and armor, they enter the village to loot and destroy everything within their reach.

It is then that he manages to spot a small house at the top of a small mountain, not far from all the others. Upon reaching the field, he notices a female figure coming out of the small garden with a basket of tomatoes. It was you, dressed in a long white skirt, a beige shirt and a scarf around your head. You look like an angel fallen from heaven, so harmonious and calm, totally different from König's rude figure.

It doesn't take you long to notice that tall, burly man at the entrance to your home, who seems anything but pleasant. You recognize their clothing and the bad intentions that characterized the vikingos. An expression of terror was marked on your face and you immediately ran into your home, shouting your father's name and without letting go of the basket of tomatoes.

Konig's stomach twisted in a feeling of excitement at your reaction, feeling powerful at the fear of the rest of the people seeing him. With his long, muscular legs, he followed your steps to the interior of the home where a series of murmurs welcomed him.

In the humble living room there was an adult couple who looked somewhat sick and next to them was you, who covered 2 small children no more than 6 years old with your body. König was tall and in good shape compared to your family, who apparently barely had enough to eat.

"Please, don't hurt us.." sobbed your mother, who brought her skinny hands to her chest, begging.

"We don't have anything valuable, you can check for yourself." Your father spoke now, pointing around you. König began to walk around the room, observing everything around him and verifying that there was nothing there that would be useful to him. "The only thing we can offer him are vegetables and fruits from our garden. Daughter, give him the basket of tomatoes!" Your father ordered, hoping that König would agree and leave as soon as possible.

You stepped forward timidly and held out the basket with the tomatoes to him, taking a distance and with your hands trembling. König looked down at you, smiling slightly at your fear and how you couldn't maintain eye contact with his cold blue eyes. He reached his hand to the basket and took a tomato, it had a good size and color. Without thinking he brought it to his mouth and tasted a little of it, not caring how the juice fell from his lips to his bushy beard.

"And then? What do you think? If you want, you can take the whole basket, it's all yours!" Your father insisted.

To tell the truth, that tomato was delicious but you were even more so. "I'll take everything from the garden... And your daughter too." König spoke for the first time, generating a shiver throughout your body.

"No problem. Girl, put on some shoes and go!" Your father spoke coldly, capable of doing everything possible to defend his family, even if it meant giving you away to an unknown Viking.

You sobbed and screamed that they wouldn't let you leave with him, with König, but your father did nothing but raise his voice even more and even try to hit you. Your mother and your brothers cried in silence, observing the situation with sadness but without intervening on your behalf. The decision was already made, you were now König's property.

It was widely said that the Vikings came to the villages not only to plunder but also to rape their women and then return to their more 'relaxed' ways. Luckily for you, or not, that had not been the case for you. No, König didn't just see you as a hole to fill with his powerful semen. But as his property, as something to take care of and defend from the other Vikings who had no intention of formalizing with any woman. He wanted to be the only one with something to fight for and stay alive. And, soon, with whom to form a small family of warriors.

During the short time you had to gather your few things, your father took it upon himself to inform König of all the good things you had to offer. You knew how to wash, cook, heal, and, best of all, you were a virgin. That last one excited König even more, who was excited by the idea of ​​being the first (and only) to be between your legs.

You boarded a large ship with your wrists handcuffed to prevent you from escaping and an old cloth bag with some items of clothing. According to König, none of that would help you in the cold climate of traveling over the sea, plus he wanted you not to wear underwear.

"Look guys! König brought us this sweetness to share!" one of the Vikings exclaimed, making all the men's hungry gazes turn towards you. You sobbed at the idea of ​​having to serve as a sexual slave for all those scary Vikings but that idea quickly disappeared when you noticed how König approached the man and growled: "don't go near her." Reporting that you were not a common asset to the crew, but his alone.

That same night you slept next to König in a more exclusive room than the rest of the men, who all slept in the same crowded place. You noticed that he had a higher rank than the rest, therefore you had certain advantages over the others. Luckily for you, König explored your body externally, caressing your breasts, ass and pussy but without trying anything else.

The weeks passed and with them you managed to get used to the lifestyle of those men. König had already warned everyone about your exclusivity only with him, so no one ever tried anything with you. Your routine was based on washing and cooking König's clothes, cleaning his war wounds and cooking for him and his men. During the nights, you only had to be in charge of helping him bathe and dress the times when he arrived very exhausted, then both of you would just lie down and sleep.

Inevitably you managed to appreciate him and desire the closeness of that massive man. König, for his part, also wanted you, demonstrating it in the way that during the night he would rest his big erection against your ass, or how he would sit you on his lap and take advantage of the movements of the boat to obtain a pleasurable friction.

That night, the sexual tension between the two was unsustainable and it didn't take long for both of them to achieve what they had longed for. Due to your tightness and the large size of König's member, his first thrusts were painful and uncomfortable. However, he took care of reducing your disagreement by sucking and biting your breasts.

"My little wife- ah I love your breasts and how tight you are.." König growled, bringing his hands to your hips, using you as his personal fleshlight.

Slowly, his long and thick cock entered completely inside of you, feeling a sensation of simultaneous pain and pleasure. His hot breath and masculine scent made your walls wrap even tighter around him, causing him to moan loudly.

"Mine, only mine. This pussy belongs to me, your breasts belong to me, you belong to me completely..." he murmured, bringing his mouth to your ear and lightly biting your lobe.

His thrusts increased along with his grunts, you sobbed with pleasure at the way his hair pubes touched your clit. "König- I want more.." you stammered, not quite able to formulate words.

"Huh? You want my cum? You want me to fill you up inside?" He asked as his pace became more clumsy, announcing that he was about to finish.

And so he did, filling your entire interior with his powerful semen that, after 9 months later, took shape into 2 chubby and healthy warriors.

[chapteronetobecontinued]

Soups, Stews and Chili - Vegetable Soup - Gazpacho

[ravenclawinthetardis]

Soups, Stews and Chili - Chilled Zucchini Soup

[gutsby]

Wingman

Pairing: Himbo!Joel x Reader

Summary: Your bestie braves the tampon aisle for you.

Warnings: 18+. Period crackfic starring Himbo!Joel—don’t take it too seriously. R has a uterus that hates her. Mentions of blood, cramps, & hangover-induced puking. Dirty talk, f!masturbation. One (1) Mean Girls reference.

Word count: 1.7k

You were fucked ten ways to Wednesday if you didn’t get your hands on some soap, a steamer, and a supersized box of maxi-pads in the span of the next eleven minutes.

Joel Miller moved like molasses on a flat slab of granite.

“WILL YOU HURRY— THE FUCK— UP?”

Your cheeks were hot. The night air was cold.

Every other word that managed to claw out of your throat was punctuated by a breath—your stomach clenched, and the sex organ below it was in hysterics.

Joel continued to lace up his loafer, clumsy as ever.

“O-kay, okay,” he hummed, “Steamer, soap, and, uh…”

“Pads!”

“Uh-huh. Right. So what kinda…blood stuff is it, again?”

The words were like an aspersion on his tongue. At the ripe old age of forty-seven, Joel still hadn’t quite learned to jibe with the menstrual product lingo, and it showed.

“Heavy flow. Any brand. With wings,” you hissed.

“Boneless or traditional?”

And if he hadn’t been standing outside the truck, foot propped up against the driver’s seat while he tied his shoe, you likely would’ve smacked him upside the head. The glare you gave him was sufficiently vicious to extinguish the smirk, though. Your hand made a fist in the front of your dress, and you groaned, leaning inward.

Joel got the picture and finished his bunny ears quick.

“Sorry.”

Then, a little more sheepish as he straightened up,

“I’m goin’. Be just a minute.”

And he was off.

Your body curled into a ball as soon as he left. It cried in pain, to nothing and no one around but that fugly slut, the nastiest skank bitch you’d ever met, your uterus.

There was no way you and Joel were making it to this rehearsal dinner. You needed to be at the venue by 7:00, the clock on the dash read 6:11, and you were, currently, twenty miles shy of Fredericksburg with a rag between your legs and your best friend scouring the local H-E-B.

That afternoon you’d been running late, so of course you’d thrown on your thin, satin, pre-wedding-ready dress before you left—and forgotten a change of clothes. Joel had been hungover from all the batshit bachelor party antics, so of course you’d had to stop three times along the way just so he could throw up on the side of the road. And, though your friend was many, many things, discreet was not one of them, so of course he’d told you, point-blank, when he saw you reaching for something in the backseat with your butt sticking up:

“You been pissin’ tomato juice or somethin’?”

And you’d looked back in abject horror.

Of course your period had come a week early and made you bleed straight through your bright yellow dress.

Maria was your best friend. You were her maid of honor. Tommy’s groomsmen happened to be the most fuckable bunch you’d ever seen—save for Joel—so there was no way you’d be caught dead at that dinner with the flag of Japan on your ass. And Maria had bought the dress just for you, so you felt like you had to get this bloodstain out.

You lifted your head to peer out the window. Even with the help of a fistful of ibuprofen, you could barely move.

6:29

“Dude, where are you?!”

It was like your phone and the FaceTime call to Joel had just materialized on their own. The man on the screen was blinking slow. Ogling something in front of him.

“So ‘L’ stands for…long?” he said after a beat.

“No, that’s light, Joel, I need a heavy one.”

“This one’s got cardboard in it, I think.”

“That’s a tampon applicator, dipshit.”

In a blink, Joel’s eyes flitted to his phone. His nostrils flared, and he met your gaze with a scowl of his own.

“Well how the hell am I supposed to know that? Only stuck two— three things in a pussy before and it sure as fuck wasn’t cotton,” he griped, and if he were any less mature he likely would’ve rolled his eyes. Drama king.

You winced as another cramp rolled through you. You shook your head and tried to regain your composure.

“Just find a heavy-flow. pad. with wings. for me. Please.”

Joel sighed and turned back to the shelf, eyes searching.

It shouldn’t have been this hard, but it was. You had no doubt Joel had never willingly touched a pussy product before in his life, so the road ahead was treacherous. Silently, you felt the urge to tell him he had no business being in pussy at all if he didn’t bother to learn what came out of one every month, but you let him cook.

His dark, greyish brows drew together in concentration. He leaned forward and reached for a box. Then stopped.

Went low to grab another, before pausing to show you.

“Very close, Joel. That’s a pantyliner.”

You felt somewhat like a mother showing a headstrong four-year-old how to copy shapes onto paper. No, darling, that’s a diva cup—and be careful with that crayon. Joel stood and he stewed and, by the look in his eyes, you’d already resigned yourself to another ten minutes of this back-and-forth rummaging at least.

Then you shifted in your seat, pushing your legs down a bit. They rubbed, of course. In spite of the pain that had seized your whole lower half, you felt a sweet, dull pulse.

You stared hard at Joel’s face on-screen to make sure he hadn’t seen it in yours, but damn that friction felt nice.

Sensitivity elevated with the influx of hormones, no doubt, you sat tight and tried to enjoy the feeling on purpose for a moment. You slowly sucked in a breath.

“Aw, hell, there’s just too many’a these damn boxes.”

You flexed your thigh muscles and let out a sigh.

“I don’t know how y’all do it,” Joel grumbled.

Keep looking, Miller. Just keep looking.

Slowly, your hips began to stir, and one small grain of pleasure gave way to a jolt—a twist in the pit of your belly that made the pain less grating. You leaned into it more.

Holding your phone, you could feel when Joel let out a frustrated groan. The sound low and almost enticing.

Wait.

Wait.

“Gross,” you said out loud, half-whispered.

You couldn’t help it. Joel was one of your closest friends; a man who loved beer die, Pall Malls, and Keith Whitley like nobody’s business and gave suffocating bear hugs whenever he was sweaty just to gross you out. You weren’t supposed to find men like that attractive.

But when the grit of his voice was just so nice…

“What?” Joel stopped to look down again.

“What?” you shot back, instantly.

A frown tugged at his lips.

“What’s ‘gross’? Me?”

Not…exactly, no.

More disgusted with yourself than anyone else, you clamped your legs together and shook your head. You tried to swallow, as if the action might suck the pleasure down with it, but the hot, throbbing sensation only grew.

You were practically grinding into the towel that had been stuffed between your thighs when you heard:

“Wings!”

An exceptionally proud Joel displayed a box of extra heavy-duty maxi-pads, with wings. He was grinning.

You weren’t sure if you thanked him next, congratulated the man, or what. You probably strung some words together and tried to return the smile as best you could, but who knew? The next thing you saw was that the line had gone dead, the truck was silent, and all that could be heard above the hum of the engine were your moans.

You braced yourself against the seat and rolled your hips even harder. Out of habit, you caught your lip between your teeth to prevent a louder sound from escaping, but then you remembered there was no one to hear you but you—for now. Your palm pressed flat on the dashboard, your knees squeezed even closer, and your vision flooded with soft, minuscule pinpricks of an all-too-familiar hue.

The only thing new to you here was Joel—the thought of him had never crossed your mind in moments like these.

But now you were closing your eyes, humping the seat with nothing between your body and the old, weathered upholstery but a scrap of fabric. And you were moaning his name. Imagining a face that was littered with coarse, grey stubble—you might’ve teased him for that once or twice before—and lips that were soft. So soft against your own that you wouldn’t think twice if he tried to slip his tongue inside and hold the sides of your face as he filled your cunt to the brim. In fact, Joel’s mouth would be a welcome distraction. Knowing how foul he was in even friendly confab, he’d undoubtedly be whispering the most vile things in your ear while he fucked you.

Reminding you, quietly, that you made such a pretty cocksleeve for him—why didn’t we try this sooner?— and how you’d be the sweetest thing if you just gave his cock another squeeze and made yourself cum all over it.

The mental image of that alone was inducement enough.

You felt a hot, euphoric band of something start to give way inside you. It tightened up, twisted—then snapped. Your mouth fell open and your thighs clenched tighter, grinding desperately in tandem with a pace you’d hoped Joel might’ve set if he were laying there underneath you. You clung to one last thought of him gripping your hips and bruising your walls with the force of his cock driving in and out, over and over again until, eventually, his cum was leaking out through each fluid thrusting movement. It was all your body could take, conjuring thoughts of his load spilling into you and onto him in warm, wet, sticky—

Whistling.

Someone was whistling outside. Walking up to the truck.

You were still coming down from the staggering heights of your climax when the driver’s side door swung open. You blinked furiously, as though to drive all the filth and depravity and need from your eyes before he could see.

It didn’t matter.

Joel was too amped up off a white plastic baggy to be concerned with much else as he plopped down beside you and smiled—beamed, really. Completely oblivious.

Your extremities were still twitching with the residuum of bliss when he reached for your hand. His eyes somehow warmer than they’d been all that day, they sparkled and shone and crinkled at the corners in a way that seemed to say the words before his mouth had uttered a sound.

“I got three boxes to be safe…”

Joel was really too sweet.

“…and some chocolate for your cramps…”

Always so considerate.

“…and you look real pretty when you cum, by the way.”

This motherfucker.

[literaryvein-reblogs]

Writing Notes: Herbs, Spices & Seasoning

Herbs and spices can add flavor and variety to your food.

Use a little at first, then add more when you are sure you like the flavor.

To substitute dry herbs for fresh, use ¼ teaspoon powder or 1 teaspoon crushed for 1 tablespoon fresh chopped herbs. Some herbs and spices are expensive.

You might want to buy only a few of the less expensive herbs and spices you will use.

Herbs and spices lose flavor and can spoil or get buggy if kept in the cupboard longer than a year.

If you use herbs and spices slowly, buy small containers, or store them in the freezer.

Uses of Herbs, Spices & Seasonings

Allspice - A mixture of cinnamon, nutmeg and cloves. Use in fruit desserts, pumpkin pie, apple cider, cakes, cookies, chicken, beef and fish dishes.

Basil - Tomato and egg dishes, stews, soups and salads

Bay leaves - Tomato dishes, fish and meat dishes

Celery seed - Juices, soups, salads, vegetables, pot roasts, poultry, rolls and biscuits

Chili powder - Chili, bean and rice dishes

Chives - Potato dishes, soups, dips and sauces

Cilantro - Latin American, Indian and Chinese dishes, salsa, stir fries, (Coriander leaves) legume or rice salads, hot cooked rice, grilled chicken or fish, or a dish of ripe tomatoes. Use fresh if possible.

Cinnamon - French toast, fruit and fruit salads, sweet potatoes, pumpkin and squash, puddings and apple desserts, ham or pork chops

Cloves - Whole cloves on ham or pork roast; ground cloves to season pear or apple desserts, beets, beans, tomatoes, squash and sweet potatoes

Coriander seed - Middle Eastern dishes, spice cakes and cookies, soups, roast pork and salad dressing

Cumin - Mexican, Middle Eastern and Indian dishes; beef and lamb, dry bean dishes, marinades, chili and tomato sauces; ingredient in curry powder

Dillweed - Tuna or salmon salad, potato salad, pickles, dips and sauces

Garlic - Mexican, Italian and Oriental dishes and in salad dressings; can be used fresh or dried, minced or powder

Ginger (fresh) - Oriental dishes, marinades for chicken or fish, fruit salad, dressings

Ginger (ground) - Gingerbread, spice cake, pumpkin pie, poultry or meat, soups, stews, stuffing, squash, sweet potatoes

Ground peppers: black, Cayenne & white pepper - Meats, casseroles, vegetables and soups

Italian seasoning - A mixture of marjoram, oregano, basil and rosemary; use in Italian dishes such as spaghetti

Marjoram - Egg and cheese dishes, meats, fish, poultry and vegetables

Mint - Fruit salads and fruit soups, melon, berries, cold fruit beverages, cooked carrots or peas, chilled yogurt soup, lamb, tabbouleh

Mustard - Sauces for meat and fish, in marinades, salad dressings, chutneys, pickles and relishes

Nutmeg - Cooked fruits, pies and desserts, baked items, spinach, sweet potatoes, eggnog and French toast

Onion - Any dish where onion flavor is desired; can be used fresh or dried (minced or powder)

Oregano - Italian dishes, chili, omelets, beef stew, meat loaf, pork and vegetables such as broccoli or tomatoes

Parsley - Meat, soup or vegetable dishes; adds color

Paprika - Stew, chicken, fish, potatoes, rice and hard-cooked eggs

Rosemary - Egg dishes, meats, fish, soups and stews, and vegetables

Thyme - Fish, poultry or meats, in soups or stews, vegetable salads

If these writing notes help with your poem/story, do tag me. Or send me a link. I'd love to read them!

More: On Food More: Word Lists

[najia-cooks]

فول مدمس فلسطيني / Ful mudammas falastini (Palestinian fava bean dish)

Fūl mudammas is a dish of boiled and mashed fava beans often flavored with spices, aromatics, herbs, and vegetables. It is commonly considered to have originated in Egypt before spreading throughout North Africa, the horn of Africa, and the Levant.

Ful is most typically eaten as a breakfast food with bread and raw vegetables, but may also be eaten for dinner. Parsley, mint, garlic, and lemon juice add freshness and zest to the base of hearty, earthy beans. Palestinian versions of the dish are often topped with a spicy دقة ("dugga") of chili pepper, lemon juice, and garlic.

Some researchers consider fava beans to be one of the "founder crops" of the Southwest Asia. A pile of about 2,600 charred fava beans (Vicia faba) discovered in a Neolithic site in Palestine suggests that fava beans were cultivated in the Lower Galilee about 6500 to 6000 B.C.E. The wild progenitor of these cultivated beans is still unknown.

فُول ("fūl") is likely, like many Arabic words, a borrowing from the Aramaic, in which פולא ("pōlā") means "fava bean." The Arabic would then yield the Coptic "ⲫⲉⲗ" ("phel"), "bean".

مُدَمَّس ("mudammas") is probably from مُ ("mu"), verb prefix, + د م س (d m s), a verb root related to hiding, burying, and storing. This may refer to a cooking method commonly used in rural areas of North Africa and West Asia: namely, burying an earthen pot containing beans or lentils and water alongside hot embers and leaving it for several hours, or overnight.

Notes:

The Coptic romanization scheme used is LOC (Library of Congress) 2014.

Donate to an evacuation fund

Donate eSims

Ingredients:

For the dish:

100g dried fava beans, soaked overnight

4 cloves garlic, grated or pounded

Juice of 1 lemon

2 Tbsp tahina (tahini)

1 tsp table salt, or to taste

1/2 tsp cumin

2 Tbsp good olive oil

Parsley, mint, or tomato, to top

For the dressing:

1/4 green bell pepper

1 green chili pepper

1 clove garlic

Juice of 1 lemon

Salt to taste

Instructions:

For the dish:

Cook fava beans in enough water to cover for about an hour, until very soft and breaking apart.

Mash beans, in their cooking water, to desired texture.

Mix in other ingredients.

For the dressing:

Combine all ingredients in a mortar and pestle, or blender, and process to desired texture.

To assemble:

Spread ful in a plate or bowl. Top with dressing, parsley, mint, or tomato, as desired. Serve warm or cold with khubiz al-kmaj, olives, green onion, and/or pickles.

[etfrin]

❝ꜱᴏᴜʟꜱ ᴛᴏ ᴄʀᴜꜱʜ❞ — chapter ten | coriolanus snow

「ᴡᴀʀɴɪɴɢ:」 SFW | Coriolanus Snow, elitism | lmk if I forgot anything

「ᴘᴀɪʀɪɴɢ:」 young! Coriolanus Snow x fem! Reader

「ꜱᴜᴍᴍᴀʀʏ:」 Coriolanus and you wake up together in the morning of the games!

「ᴀ/ɴ:」 i hope y'all like this!!

Beta read by 🎉 @nowitsmissing

series masterlist | navigation

Coriolanus Snow got out of the shower, the boy freshly dressed in a white, too-tight shirt and charcoal pants. You were sleeping on the bed, curled to his side right now. He should wake you up for breakfast. After he told Tigris a friend had stayed over the night, she was excited that this was the first guest they had in years and how glad she was that Coriolanus found a true friend.

A true friend. He certainly wasn't used to it. You never met his expectations, always managing to ruin his prediction of the future whenever it involved you. You were everything, you were an enigma, addicting and unsolvable.

God bless Tigris, when she heard about you, she went out to get groceries with whatever penny she had. She had assured Coriolanus that your first meal in this house wouldn't be the flavorless cabbage soup. Coryo was glad that at least he wouldn't have to face the embarrassment of not even serving proper food.

Coryo decided to cook for you himself. He wanted to make sure everything is as perfect as it gets. Tigris had found some tomatoes and strawberries for cheap! There was bread that was expired, but it's only been three days and you didn't have to know. So he decided to make tomato soup and toasted bread with strawberries for dessert.

When grandma’am was busy, he even took the risk of stealing roses from the penthouse. He had some mint leaves in the fridge. He wanted to make a drink for you. He rinsed the roses, crushing the petals and the mint together. He mixes the juice from the paste in cold water. He swirls the liquid with a spoon and watches it turn light green.

He takes a small sip, the strong floral flavor of the roses tasting well with the freshness of the mint. He smiles satisfied. He doesn't let Tigris do any of the work, he sets the table, and the food himself. Changing positions of the plate every few minutes to make sure everything is acceptable and up to standard. Just because his house isn't made of diamonds anymore doesn't mean that the Snows' have forgotten how to treat their guests.

After everything was deemed perfect in his eyes, he opened his bedroom door to wake you up. You were already awake. Sitting up on the bed, your face sleepy. You could barely keep your eyes open and he almost wanted to suggest that you go back to sleep. You looked so cute! You blink several times, gaining sense, and look at him with an unfiltered grin.

“Good morning, Coryo,” you greet him, your eyes shining.

“Good morning,” he said, softly, feeling his heart getting warm. “Come on, you can freshen up in the bathroom. I made breakfast.”

You nod and make your way to the bathroom. Coriolanus waits for your arrival, he keeps the seat beside him free. Tigris chatted excitedly about some new designs and Grandma'am wasn't at her best to make conversations (which he was grateful for).

You come out of the washroom, your face fresh and your hair somewhat tamed. You eye the empty seat beside him and take it. You introduced yourself softly to the family and watched their eyes widen when they realized who you were and the power your family held.

Coriolanus felt proud. That's his soulmate, he wanted to say but didn't. He had to be patient, he had to be careful. He wasted a decade of his life, he can't mess this up.

You looked at the food, and he felt worried that you wouldn't like it. He knew this was nothing compared to the meal you have in your home, heck even the Academy had better food than this! You looked back at him and whispered, “You cooked this yourself?”

Coriolanus nodded, not sure if the question was a good or bad thing. Will you refuse to eat it because it was made by a boy who starves daily and has no idea what fine cuisine tastes like? Will you break his heart like that, and prove that you're predictable?

He swallows, his throat dry as he watches you sip the rosemint water he made. You take some toasted bread onto your plate, your bowl filled with tomato soup. You dip the toast into the soup and take a bite.

Neither Coriolanus nor Tigris had started their meal waiting for your reaction. Coriolanus was getting worried sick about how horrible it was, he shouldn't have let you come and see him so undone, so raw. He ruined everything. You can't possibly-

“This is delicious,” you exclaimed with joy, “I can't believe you cooked this, Coryo!”

Tigris chuckled, glad that you liked it, “He has magic hands.”

“I think it's your hands that are magic, Tigris,” he said. He turns to you, “She's a designer.”

You make small talk with Tigris, asking about her works and Coriolanus feels himself to calm down. He begins to nibble at his bread, taking small sips of the soup to save it for later. He couldn't believe his reality, it felt like a fever.

He was afraid a wrong move would wake him up. He couldn't have that when he finally felt at home in the ruins of his penthouse. He would always remember the moment of you giggling and Tigris talking about her ideas. The two of you are seemingly turning into friends. He loved to see the two most important women in his life bonding.

Of course, the moment has to be shattered. Life doesn't let him keep his smile up for long. Oh, how cruel the fates were to remind him of his true reality.

“Hopefully, Coryo, I will return the favor by cooking you a meal one day.”

“We don't want your disgusting, filthy district food,” his Grandma’am sneered.

“Well, then I am sure you'll like it enough if it's made by my Capitol-blooded Michelin star chef.”

In a moment, you have revealed your status, that you were above Coriolanus and his family who couldn't even dream of having a chef in their home anymore. You showed that no matter what, you were higher than him, that you weren't equal. That you were simply indulging him in his foolish quest of making a good breakfast. That it could never be truly compared.

And you also knew you fucked up by saying that. Coriolanus knee you weren't in the wrong, but he couldn't help the hurt he felt by the remainder of it all.

He has to win the Plinth Prize at any cost.

You profusely apologize and even though Tigris said it's alright, you get up from the table without finishing the meal. You go back to his room. He doesn't finish his meal either, his stomach filled with disappointment. He follows you into the room. You turn to him as he closes the door.

“I am sorry!” You said, “It was uncalled for. She's old and it's-”

“It’s fine,” he cuts in, giving you a fake polite smile reserved for his classmates, “I think she would like it more if it's done by a Michelin star chef.”

“Coriolanus,” you said, walking up to him, your hands cradling his face as you cage him to the door. Oh, how delightful the cage is for him.

“I am sorry!” you plead, and for a moment he thought you were simply performing. This was all a huge joke, and he's just a punchline.

“Real or not?” He whispered, his lips close to yours.

“Real,” you answered, “I didn't mean it like that. I didn't mean to brag- after finally you-” You stopped your words and leaned in instead but Coriolanus flinched back. Not until he's equal to you. He won't have you as Coryo, the poor starving boy from the Capitol. He will have you as Coriolanus Snow, the winner of it all, the heir of the Snow lineage.

You hide the hurt on your face and lean back.

The silence in the room was thick and awkward. There are hours before the games start. Coriolanus needed to practice self-control because he wanted to pull you right back in his arms, push you against the door, and capture your lips. He wants to taste the mint and the rose on your tongue, he wants to ruin your ability to think and wants to steal your breath.

But he doesn't do any of it.

His eyes flicker to the box underneath his table. It was labeled as rat poison. Your eyes follow his gaze and it snapped back to meet his eyes again. It was amazing how a conversation was held without even saying a word.

Lucy Gray is weak. She won't last a minute in the arena.

They'll know.

They won't, not if she wins.

“Coryo,” you begin to say.

“I have to do this,” he firmly said, “You know why.” So that we can be equals, he thinks, so that I don't have to flinch back from your lips because I don't feel worthy of you.

“How will you even hide it?” You asked, your eyebrows furrowed.

Coriolanus Snow takes out a powder compact from his drawer. It was silver in color and was decorated with an engraved rose. It was his mother's. In difficult times, when he had trouble falling asleep, he would click it open and inhale the rose scent of the silken cake of powder within.

He clicks it open now, the cake of rose-scented flowers spreads the fragrance across his bedroom. You come in closer and gently pry the compact from his hands to yours. He lets you because he trusts you.

“Your mother's?” You questioned.

“Yes,” he replied, unable to keep his emotions in check. “She's always with me with this and she will help me win the games.”

You don't say anything but put down the compact gently on the desk before wrapping your arms around him. “Your mom would be proud of you, Coryo,” you said. Coriolanus wanted to question how would you know, you never even met her. However, your words brought him comfort and it gave him the courage to pull out the cake powder and contain it before filling the compact with rat poison.

“Let me drop you off at the Zoo,” you said, your fingertip tracing over the rose. Your other hand holds his cheek, your thumb caressing him gently. He closed his eyes, feeling all of his tension leave. He couldn't describe how calm he felt from your touch. How right it was for you to touch him.

“Okay,” he lets out, “Let me change first.”

He changed into his pristine academy uniform. He makes sure all of his curls are in place. He has to hold your hands and glare at you playfully when you try to mess it up.

“Don't,” he warns with a small smile. And you pout and for a moment he gives in. He gives into himself and- before his lips can touch yours, you pull back. So, he held your hand up and kissed your knuckle instead.

“Thank you,” he said, his voice sincere, “for everything.”

For saving him. For supporting him. For being his.

Both of you got in the car, the plan was to drive Coriolanus to the zoo. He will deliver it to Lucy Gray and go directly to the Academy by foot while you go back to your house for a change of clothes and then go to the Academy.

The car ride is quiet, neither of you wanting to say too much but unwilling to reveal anything. You park the car in front of the Zoo gates. He opens his mouth to say goodbye but you interrupt first by saying,

“May the odds be in your favor, Coryo. See you at the Games, pretty boy.”

NEXT PART

[ox1-lovesick]

✶ ─── TOMORROW X TOGETHER AND THINGS WITH THEM

🍇 pairing. txt x gn!reader genre. fluff warnings. mentions of food, pda (?), wc. 50-100 each

🍇 type. headcannon , reaction

🍇 a/n. abandoned the tyun and hyuka fic for now 💀 this is like a filler fic or something i have such bad writers block. i know for a fact that soobin crochets

% YEONJUN

late night walks ; gentle kisses to your knuckles ; catching him staring ; errands to the convenience store at 3 in the morning ; holding hands ; sharing earphones ; leaning your head on his shoulder ; sharing lip glosses ; netflix marathons ; fashion shows at 2 am ; spontaneous dance sessions ; late night drives ; candid pictures ; slow dancing ; cooking ; sharing jewellery ; kisses through the phone ; matching jewelry

% SOOBIN

comparing hand sizes ; feeding each other ; interlocking pinkies ; desert before dinner ; baking ; sharing clothes and jewelry ; 1000 piece puzzles ; movie dates ; crocheting together ; croc shopping dates ; clothing hauls ; editing vlogs together ; food fights ; disney dates ; couple cosplays and halloween costumes ; pillow talk about the future ; tying your shoelaces for you ; giving you his jacket when it's cold ; matching socks and bracelets

% BEOMGYU

kisses in the rain ; hand-written love letters ; bouquets of roses ; sleeping in together ; doodling on each others hands ; scented candles ; bickering for fun ; backhugs ; raindrop races ; long bus rides ; sharing earphones ; picnic dates ; photo albums ; half anniversaries ; forehead kisses ; impromptu karaoke nights ; guitar lessons ; secret handshakes ; build-a-bear dates ; feeding each other ; pillow talk ; hiding tomatoes in his food ; painting each other's nails ; holding open the door for you

% TAEHYUN

long and warm hugs ; locking pinkies ; poking his dimples ; falling asleep on his chest ; cheek kisses ; stargazing ; library dates ; cooking for each other ; communicating through morse code ; study dates ; reading together ; sharing cutlery ; pinky promises ; kisses to your knuckles ; post it notes with messages ; holding hands ; feeding each other ; falling asleep on the phone with him ; playlists dedicated to each other ; gentle kisses ; powerpoint nights ; "5 more minutes" mornings ; flowers "just because"

% HUENINGKAI

naming all his plushies ; palm kisses ; zoo dates ; buzzfeed quizzes to see who'd survive the zombie apocalypse ; breakdancing in the dining room ; pokemon impressions ; piano lessons ; holding hands, everywhere ; kisses to the tips of your fingers ; pillow and tickle fights ; sneaking juice boxes and animal biscuits in your lunch

★ OX1-LOVESICK all rights reserved. do not copy, distribute, translate, alter or repost my work without my explicit permission.

[whalesforhands]

consume your unrest (geto x reader x gojo) pt.5

previous masterlist next

warnings: feeding (the good kind), i totally planned for this chapter to be done so quick, i have 10 other drafts i should be focusing on

It’s awkward. Suffocatingly awkward.

You shift nervously in your seat, your hands trembling slightly as you held the burger.

You don’t think you have the stomach to face them right now. The burger looks… Appetizingly gross. Your stomach growls.

Did you eat anything at all till now?

Suguru notices your hesitance as Satoru stops digging into his ice cream midway, still, the spoon that hangs out of his mouth suggests that he’s still appreciating the flavour.

“Are you okay? Did you not want to eat this?”Suguru tilted his head as he watched you, noticing the slight tremor in your fingers as you try hard to avoid his gaze. He’s worried. Should he order you something else? You hope he doesn’t notice the cold sweat.

Think. Think of an excuse. Think of something to lessen the weight of their gaze. You spot a flash of dark green.

“I- I don’t like… Cucumbers.”

“Oh, the pickles?” Suguru smiles, reaching for your food. “I’ll eat them for you then.” He gingerly removes the half-wrapped burger from your hands, separating the bun and its components to extract your ‘hated’ food.

“Meanwhile, you can share my ice cream!” A spoon is held out in front of you, a generous scoop of frozen, chocolatey vanilla goodness atop.

“Say aaah!”

You relent, remaining quiet but opening your mouth as the spoon gets pushed in.

It’s good. And it shows on your face as your eyes begin to sparkle, your mouth quirking up slightly at the sweetness.

Satoru has smirk so wide, you want to hide. “Want the rest?”

It’s too good to say no to. You hesitantly nod.

“Hmm, looks like there’s only a few bites left.” He hums, tilting his head downwards and looking into the sundae cup. “Looks like there’s no point in giving you the cup.”

Your shoulders visibly droop. “T-then it’s fine.” He always liked sweets better than you, anyway. “Y-you can have the rest, Sator-“

“I’ll just have to feed you the rest myself!” Another scoop is held out in front of you once again. You want to drool at how appetizing it still looked.

You obey, letting the spoon into your mouth as a dollap of cream accidentally smears the corner of your lip, your tongue peeking out slightly to get at it as Satoru watches you with such a pretty smile on his face.

(You’re blushing.)

Your burger soon comes into view before you, pickles visibly gone. Suguru is holding it.

You reach out, before it suddenly pulls away from your hand.

“..?” You’re confused, taken aback. Why won’t he give it to you?

You try again, grabbing for it, only for it to avoid you with lightning quick reflexes, before it hovers before your lips.

Ah. You get it. Suguru wants to feed you too. Your blush grows heavy along with your towering embarrassment.

(Are they making fun of you?)

“Open up for me, yeah?” Suguru’s voice is heard as you begin to hesitantly part your lips, the burger soon being pressed gently inbetween them for you to bite down on as you spot Satoru giving you a playful wink out of the corner of your eye as he steals Suguru’s barely eaten burger.

They are definitely messing with you again.

You chew on the savory burger, the juice from the meat coupled with the tanginess of the sauce, the meatiness of the cheese, the slight crunch of the lettuce and the fresh taste of the tomatoes��� It was really good.

(You’re smiling before you even knew it.)

(Food has never tasted so good. Were you that hungry?)

The duo continue their quiet chatter as Suguru pats your head, handing you the burger as he chides Satoru for stealing his.

“You literally have 12 other burgers, and you pick mine…”

“Hey, a winner’s a winner!” He takes a comically large bite, stuffing his cheeks. “Sore lhosers gwet nhooo shay!”

He swallows as quickly as he chewed. “(name)~, feed me a bite of your yours too~”

Suguru chops Satoru’s incoming head towards you.

“Eat your own!”

——

The basketball bounces in his hand as he dribbled, Gojo laughing as he steals the ball from Geto with ease.

“Too slow, babe!” His movements are swift, almost teasing as he dunks the ball.

Suguru huffs, his hand running through his wind tussled hair, bun coming undone slightly as he grits his teeth.

“Show-off.”

“And that’s one more point for the great Gojo Satoru!” The white-haired shaman exclaimed, hands on his hips, chest puffed out in victory.

You’re completely distracted. The way Suguru had pulled his sleeves up over his arms had you nearly drooling.

You always liked the way Suguru’s arms looked. They were big, comfy-looking and you definitely wouldn’t mind them squeezing you in a tight hug.

Too distracted to even notice that the winner was waving his hand in front of you, the loser chuckling as he crosses his arms, enthused by the way you were shamelessly staring.

“You should go easy on him, Satoru…” Was your automatic reply, your words drawling themselves out as you continued to stare.

Gojo pouted, seating himself next to you, knee to knee, shoulder to shoulder as he pressed his sweaty head against your shoulder, grabbing your wrist, unscrewing the cap of the bottle and downing the cold water you held in your hand, with you technically feeding him as he drank.

You let him.

“I won, you know?”

You hum, still distracted.

“I deserve a reward, right?”

You hum again, unknowingly agreeing.

Satoru places his chin on your shoulder, arms wrapping around your waist as he hugs you from the side. Suguru sits down beside you as you immediately hand him a the other cold bottle you were holding.

“Say, (name).” Satoru begins as Suguru wipes his sweat with a handkerchief. “What kind of guys are you into?”

You suddenly come back to your senses.

masterlist next

Notes:

You have grown accustomed to sweets since Satoru had always (force) fed you his treats. Whether you like or had a distaste for them initially, you have grown to like them due to Gojo.

Satoru loves eating Suguru’s food. This was how Suguru had trained him to eat more vegetables willingly.

“It just tastes better cause it’s yours!”

Suguru has noticed your obsession with his arms. He’s really proud of it. He tells Satoru about it whilst his boyfriend flexes and compares with him, pouting.

“We have the same workout routine! Why does she like yours more?!”

“I’m just better.”

Ieiri had actually gone back to the dorms after her little smoke break. Texting you something about you, “Needing some alone time with them.”

[smute]

random hill to die on and i could honestly make a 3 hour viddy essay about this but here's the short version: "save some pasta water for binding your sauce" is probably one of the most misunderstood cooking tips ever. yes, its an old trick and yes, its something that can be helpful under very specific circumstances but at this point almost every pasta recipe i come across seems to mention some variation of it and in most cases it's complete nonsense.

firstable, let me explain where it doesnt work: adding pasta water to a random sauce (tomato for instance) will not make it thicker. whatever miniscule amount of starch you're gonna have in there wont make a difference when you're also adding ladlefuls of water at the same time. its pasta water not cornstarch slurry. and thats not something you want in your tomato sauce anyway. tomato paste is an excellent emulsifier all on its own (along with egg yolks, mustard, butter, cream, milk, and many other dairy products) so in order to thicken a tomato-based sauce you have exactly two options: evaporation or more tomato paste, which basically amounts to the same thing: less water, more everything else.

pasta water on the other hand can be useful for diluting a sauce (tomato or otherwise) that has been cooked down too much. while adding wine or juices (or just plain water) for deglazing makes sense at the beginning of the cooking process, watery things added to an almost finished sauce will simply... water it down (duh) and (in the case of wine, vinegar, etc) introduce unwanted raw flavors. there's also a good chance that cold liquids won't mix well with the sauce and ruin the consistency. for this, broth works very well, but pasta water would be a more neutral option flavor-wise. the salt and temperature honestly make the biggest difference here. plus, pasta water is something you're probably gonna have on hand anyway as you will likely be boiling your pasta shortly before serving.

the same goes for loosening any other emulsion, like an emulsified butter sauce or carbonara for example. this shouldn't be necessary but if your egg and cheese mixture clings to the pasta a little too much and everything just clumps together, a small (!!!) amount of pasta water can help the sauce reach a creamier consistency without diluting the overall flavor too much.

however. the Pasta Water Trick (TM) that everyone talks about but so few recipes seem to get right goes like this: you finish cooking your pasta in the sauce and you also add a little bit of pasta water to that mixture. a single cooked spaghetto will probably yield more starch than an entire cup of pasta water, and cooking your starchy pasta for a minute (or just tossing it) in the finished sauce will make a huge difference for the consistency. that alone can be enough, you can stop right there. but now you run the risk of binding too much liquid. this is where the pasta water comes in. it's hot, salty, starchy, and it's right there on the stove, so it's perfect for making sure your sauce doesn't disappear completely. THATS ALL

btw. all of this works a lot better with fresh pasta and a lower water to pasta ratio. fresh pasta gives off more starch than dried pasta, and it works even better with homemade pasta that's still covered in flour. the cloudier the water the better.

in any case, pasta water = a little bit of starch + a whole lot of water (and salt). thats why it only makes sense to use it in situations where you need both the starch AND the extra liquid (and salt) or if you know that you'll evaporate most of it later on. think of pasta water as a better alternative to cold water or as something that you can use when you dont have any other cooking liquids on hand. and always keep the salt in mind.

tl;dr: pasta water can be a useful tool for emulsification but if anything it's a thinning agent rather than a thickening agent.