#a firm texture and a chewy texture

[falseandrealultravival]

Tsubugai Sashimi (cooking)

Tsubugai is a conch of the sea north of Hokkaido, and there is no specific shellfish called tsubugai. It is a general term for mollusks belonging to the Buccinum and Neptunea. In any case, it is a food that has a firm texture and a chewy texture. It is extremely delicious when eaten as sushi or sashimi. Wasabi soy sauce is the standard.

つぶ貝の刺身（料理）

つぶ貝は、北海道以北の北の海の巻き貝で、具体的に「つぶ貝」という貝はない。エゾバイ属やエゾボラ属の貝類の総称である。なんにせよ、歯ごたえがしっかりしていて、噛み応えのある食材である。寿司のネタにするか、刺身にするかして食べると極めて美味しい。ワサビ醤油が定番。

(2023.04.22)

[supercantaloupe]

i'll say it. i think jelly is a better milk tea mix in than boba

[writingwithfolklore]

Describing Foods - A Masterlist

                As a broke university student, I love reading about food. It’s almost like eating a real meal myself <3.

I get a little angry when characters are eating a meal and I barely get to experience it with them. In that, I mean I don’t just want to know what it is, but what it’s like to eat that food—how it tastes, smells, sounds, and feels. Is a perfect croissant still a perfect croissant without the crack of the exterior, the airiness of the pastry inside, the smell of yeast?

                Probably not. When writing about a dish, the smell, texture, technique, taste, and how it looks are all important to painting the experience, so here’s some words to use when describing a meal:

Taste:

Acidic: Sharp tasting. Often used to describe tart or sour foods as well.

Aftertaste: A different taste that remains in the mouth after eating something

Bitter: Tart, sharp, and sometimes harsh flavour.

Bittersweet: Less harsh than bitterness. Tartness + sweetness.

Bland: Has no significant flavor or texture

Briny: Just means salty. Often describes pickled foods.

Citrusy: Bright flavour like… well citrus fruits—oranges, lemons, limes, etc.

Cooling: Mimics that cooling feel—like mint.

Earthy: Reminiscent of soil. Can be used to describe wines, root vegetables, and mushrooms.

Fiery: Another word for spicy.

Fresh: Light and crisp—describes produce or herbs.

Fruity: Sweet and reminiscent of fruit.

Full-bodied: Rich and ‘feels heavy’ in your mouth. Can describe wines or soups.

Herbal: Bright, fresh, sometimes earthy from the presence of herbs

Honeyed: Sweet or candied taste like honey.

Nutty: Taste similar to the flavors of nuts. Often used to describe certain cheeses.

Rich: Full, heavy flavour. Often dishes that contain cream taste rich.

Robust: Rich + Earthy. Used for lots of wines or aged liquor.

Savory: Describes meaty, earthy dishes and soups.

Sharp: Harsh, bitter, or tart taste. Used to describe acidic foods.

Smoky: Reminiscent of the smell of smoke.

Sour: Biting, tangy, tart flavor.

Spicy: Burning taste.

Sweet: Sugary.

Tangy: Tart, biting taste—feels tingly

Tart: Sharp, bitter, or sour flavour. Used to describe acidic foods.

Woody: Earthy, sometimes nutty taste. Describes some coffees or cheeses.

Yeasty: Earthy taste reminiscent of yeast. Describes beer and bread.

Zesty: Fresh, vivid, or invigorating flavour.

Sound/Texture:

Sound has a lot to do with texture, so I've combined them for this section!

Airy: Light, pillowy texture (think inside of croissant)

Brittle: Hard but easy to break

Bubbly: Usually during heating, when bubbles rise to the surface—low sound.

Buttery: Smooth, creamy texture (think certain pasta sauces)

Chewy: Food that needs to be chewed thoroughly. Can be light and bouncy (chewy bread) or heavy (steak) and sticky (candy)

Creamy: A smooth and rich texture, comes from dairy.

Crispy: Light texture with slight crunch.

Crumbly: Food with loose structure that falls apart into crumbs.

Crunchy: Firm, crisp texture with a sharp, loud noise.

Crusty (behave): Food with a hard outer layer and soft interior (many loaves and breads)

Delicate: Light and fine, feels like it can come apart easily.

Doughy: Soft and heavy, usually pale colouring.

Fizzy: Usually liquids—a hissing sound, feels like ‘static’

Flaky: Light, characterized by layers that come apart during eating.

Fluffy: light and airy.

Frothy/Foamy: Airy bubbles, usually in a drink like a latte.

Gamey: Usually refers to meats when they’re very “meaty”

Gooey: Viscous, sometimes sticky texture from moisture in a dense/solid food.

Hearty: Firm, robust texture.

Juicy: Tender and succulent texture from liquid in a solid food (steak)

Molten: Hot, gooey

Oily: Slick, heavy, lingers on the tongue.

Silky: Fine, smooth texture that feels sleek.

Smooth: Texture free of grit, lumps, or edges.

Snap: A quick, sharp, crackling sound when broken.

Squelch: A soft sucking sound when pressure is applied. Somewhat gross.

Sticky: Gluiness in the mouth.

Succulent: Tender and juicy

Tender: Soft and easy to break down

Velvety: Smooth and rich

Smell:

Acrid: Strong, bitter, unpleasant

Comforting: pleasant, probably calls back to a nice memory

Damp: Wet smelling—probably a bit earthy

Delicate: subtle, faint, not overpowering

Earthy: reminiscent of soil

Fetid: Caused by decay—unpleasant

Fishy: reminiscent of fish

Floral/flowery: Reminiscent of flowers

Fragrant: Sweet or pleasing

Fresh: Cool, crisp, refreshing—produce, probably not cooked

Funky: Something’s gone off

Heady: Strong smell, pungent, rich

Musty: Not fresh

Perfumed: Pleasant, reminiscent of something (can be perfumed with citrus, say)

Piquant: stinging, pungent—tickles the nose

Powerful: strong

Rancid: Definitely gone off, decomposing

Ripe: Strong, usually unpleasant smell

Savory: spicy, salty, no elements of sweetness

Sour: has gone off

Spicy: Sharp, tingles the nose

Tangy: Strong and bitter but in a good way

Tart: Sharp

Woody: earthy smell, reminiscent of wood

Sight:

Usually texture gives us a really good picture of what a food looks like, so here’s some non-texture sight additions:

Blistered: Bumpy exterior.

Caramelized: Usually golden brown

Cloudy: Splotched. Almost see through if not for a slight white or grey mist.

Colourful: Bright and vibrant

Glassy: Resembling glass

Glossy: Smooth, shiny

Marbled: Two colours intertwined

Opaque: Not transparent. Can’t see through.

Ripe: Colourful (can be to a fault). Nearing the end of its edible state.

Scaly: Covered in scales, fish.

Shiny: Appears wet or glossy

Sparkling: Glimmers under the light

Stuffed: An ingredient placed inside a larger part with no additional space.

Translucent: Allows light through

Vibrant: Striking, bright

Food Prep:

How the food is prepared gives it these other attributes. If your character is familiar with cooking (or is the cook themselves!) they may describe food this way.

Baked: Cooked in an oven. Results in browned or crispy outer layer.

Blackened: When food is dipped in butter and coated with spices then cooked in a hot pan—spices darken, making it appear ‘blackened’

Blanched: Food scalded in boiling water and moved to cold water so it stops cooking. Texture comes out soft.

Braised: Food that is briefly fried in fat and then stewed in a pot. Results in seared, crispy exterior with a tender interior.

Breaded: Coated with breadcrumbs/batter then baked or fried so it turns crispy

Broiled: Food cooked with intense radiant heat in an oven or on the grill. Results in a darkened appearance and crispy texture.

Caramelized: Food slow-cooked until it’s browned, nutty, and has a bit of sweetness.

Charred: Grilled, roasted, or broiled and gains a blackened exterior and smoky flavor.

Fermented: Food that’s sat with bacteria, yeast, or another microorganism and has produced acids, alcohols, or gases. Results in a biting, pungent flavor. (Kimchi is fermented)

Fried: Food cooked by submerging in hot oil. Creates crispy, crunchy texture and golden colour.

Glazed: Food with a coating brushed onto its surface. Appears glossy with a thin, flavorful, and crisp outer layer.

Infused: Food steeped in liquid with another ingredient so it carries the essence of that ingredient. Used with herbs usually.

Marinated: Usually meat soaked in liquid containing flavourful herbs, spices, vinegar, or oil.

Poached: Food cooked in near boiling water. Results in tender, moist texture.

Roasted: Food cooked with dry heat in an oven or over the fire. Results in browned exterior and crisp coating.

Sautéed: Food cooked quickly in small amount of fat.

Seared: Food cooked in small amount of fat until caramelized. Finished by roasting or grilling. Results in crisp exterior and tender interior.

Smoked: Food exposed to smoke from smoldering wood for a long time. Results in that distinctive smoky flavor.

Whipped: Food beaten to incorporate air. Light and fluffy.

What did I miss?

[paper-mario-wiki]

danish advice:

for a long time i was confused as to why puff pastries from the grocery store bakery are good but the texture is all chewy and a little tough.

but then i put it in the oven for a few minutes and it was fluffy and flaky and light again! and i didnt know why, because it seems counterintuitive that something would start to taste more moist after being exposed to heat.

but then i remembered! puff pastry dough is characterized by having LAYERS OF BUTTER BAKED INTO THE DOUGH. without reheating it im biting into firm butter dough!!! what a silly thing to do.

to counteract this, i place it into my shitty little convection oven for 3 minutes and it instantly becomes yummier.

never suffer through a mediocre danish again.

[dobbysnotsureaboutthis]

Interrupted

Masterlist

WC: 7.1k approx.

Description:

Alastor's been wondering what all the craze around sexual pleasure is (because of Rosie) and decides to give it a single try. That's when you arrive at the hotel, becoming his assistant; and you're just always interrupting at the worst time. (Written almost entirely from Alastor's perspective)

Warnings:

Light cannibalism, torture, and stuff, NSFW (purely written for smut purposes), unintentional edging, unedited

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.

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“Ah, is that so?”

For the most part, Alastor considered Rosie a dear friend. Her horrific tales of marriage and cannibalism, her excellent management of Cannibal Town, and her all around entertaining manner of speech were all qualities he very much enjoyed. Yet no soul is without its flaws, and Rosie certainly had hers.

“Yes! And then he…” He does his best to tune her out, grimacing at the extreme level of detail his fellow overlord chose to give him about her sex life. “There were these new knives with beautiful handles I’d bought, and they were just the perfect size for his-.”

“Would you look at that! Our waiter friend here has brought your favorite off the menu!”

The waiter listlessly sets down a plate of fingers, all tied up with bows at the end. Rosie coos in delight, thanking him with a wiggle of her fingers.

“Seriously, you’re missing out!”

“I highly doubt there is anything new I will learn from the experience.” He sips his coffee, one eyebrow raised as he listens to his old friend ramble on. 

“Oh Alastor, you can never be too sure if you like something until you try it!” She giggles as she pierces her fork into a piece. Blackened blood oozes from the wound. “I didn’t know I had a liking for cannibalism until I ate my first husband!” 

She hums at the taste, her sharp teeth easily breaking through leathery skin and stubborn ligaments. “And I liked it so much I had the second as well!” 

“I’m sure you had a very enjoyable time.” 

She laughs, noticing the telltale sign of exasperation furrowing his brow. “I was only trying to broaden your horizons. You’ll be in Hell for a long time after all! Who knows? Maybe in one of these centuries you’ll feel compelled to test things out. Don’t think too much of it sweetie.” 

But Alastor did think about it. Unwillingly, of course. Nonetheless, the thought nagged at the back of his mind as he bid Rosie farewell, heading off to his usual stop at the butcher shop. He thought of it as the butcher plodded to the back of the shop, retrieving for him the whole carcass of a deer. Could the flesh of another, moving creature be just as delectable as a dead rack of venison?

He thought of it as he grinned his way into the hotel, half-heartedly entertaining Charlie and the others just enough that they wouldn’t bother him further. He let his gaze momentarily land on each of the hotel residents; could he even imagine the thought of laying with any of them? He feels his stomach curdle in disgust as Angel Dust shoots him one of his looks. That spider doesn’t know what he’s thinking, does he? No, of course not. He’s way beneath the caliber of mind reading.

Any person, any body on top of him would simply feel wrong. No, Alastor decided. Surely, his good friend must be exaggerating the pleasure. 

Yet still, the thought simply wouldn’t leave him as he sliced through the sinews of his venison, closing his eyes in satisfaction at the gamey, lean taste. As custom, his butcher had prepared the meat just right; so that the texture was firm yet tender, rather than resistant and too chewy from its muscle fibers. Was it possible that the pleasures of the flesh could be just as addicting as the pleasure of consuming it? 

He polishes off the last bit of meat clinging to the bone, tucking in his chair so it aligns perfectly with the edge of the table. Nevermind all that, he has a radio show to host! He adjusts his bow, humming what the people of today would consider an old-timey tune as he makes his way to his radio tower. 

On tonight’s broadcast he had prepared a last minute catch to torture, some mid-level overlord who attacked the hotel in the middle of the night. Charlie might nag him about it later, but what Charlie doesn’t know won’t hurt her. He takes a seat, flipping through the script. Announcements, jazz, a brief segment on the meat market in Hell, and of course the most infamous part of his show - broadcasting the screams of said angry demon in the far corner of his tower, bound by the power of his chains. 

“Sinners, I hope you’ve prepared your ears for a feast!” 

The overlord’s body is resisting, tossing and turning helplessly in his hold. It’s exhilarating, the feeling of control pulsing through his veins. Delicious, the way its face contorted further until it was no longer even vaguely humanoid in appearance. Mesmerizing, as he skinned its identity in one loud tear; from forehead to chin, the overlord was no more. A meaningless black hole where its mouth once sat opens in an ear-shattering scream. He feels the noise reverberate pleasantly through his spine, echoes of its cries spreading in waves across Hell from his radio tower. 

He stretches his back, then, lengthening bones making pops and snaps as they release from their prison of sinews and tendons, until he loomed over the fallen demon who pathetically clawed for an exit as though it still had a chance of escaping. He lets him crawl a miserly few feet, before easily snatching him up with one long arm, savoring the absolute forced submission in the other demon’s blood-drowned eyes.  

“A reminder to all the misbehaving, insolent souls of Hell…”

He unhinges his jaw till it’s as large as the sinner’s head, then bites it off, removing the screaming machine right off its neck. Its hair is a nasty texture on his throat, though he ignores the mild inconvenience for the incomparable satisfaction of the rush of raw power. The studio is quiet now, save for the sounds of thick, tainted blood sliding down his elongated throat, and the soft gulps as he swallowed. 

He licks his lips, which is coated with the putrid blood of that demon - ah, there’s nothing that quite hits the spot like the bitter taste of total conquest. 

“...not to cross paths with the Radio demon.” 

He laughs as he ends the broadcast, cleaning up the rest of the body by obscuring it in flames and letting it wither. He doesn’t particularly enjoy the taste of sinner meat unlike his dear friend Rosie; once the body becomes inanimate, unable to scream or shake in terror, it’s simply a slab of meat the same as any other. And he far prefers the bite of fresh venison. 

His body slowly compresses itself, returning to the usual form he enjoyed. But his blood still pulsed quickly, and his face was still flushed from the euphoria of domination. His ears twitch once, twice as he feels strangely stuck on the feeling.

That irritating worm of a thought creeps in yet again, reminding him this morning’s unsettling conversation. Missing out? It itched at him, the thought that he has yet to experience this aspect of hedonism. He seats himself at his station, blood-crusted nails tapping on his knee. 

He could give it a try. That’s what he did with television, after all. Twenty years after he landed in Hell and that imbecile Vox started rising in power - well, they were friends at the time - he had entertained the idea of video, if only in the privacy of his back then radio station. And after a mere week with the device, he had decided that radio still was the best and most refined medium. 

Hmmm. 

He sinks into the shadows, tapping his fingers on his cane as he makes his way toward his room. He stretches his grin to scare Angel Dust, who he crossed in the halls; delighted, as he grimaces in disgust at the sight. 

Although, he muses, he can hardly bear to think of sleeping with any of the demons surrounding him. The door shuts, and he finds himself seated on his bed, restless fingers never stopping their erratic tapping. 

Perhaps, he can test things out by himself first. Only if things go well will he entertain another. 

And that’s how Alastor finds his fingers slipping beneath the band of his pants, sending his shadow to guard the outside of his door. Who knows which one of those pesky fiends would come knocking for some ridiculous problem? 

He snakes a hand around the length of his member, internally grimacing at the intimacy of the action. It wasn’t as though he’s never touched himself before; but rather that the last time had been… more than a century ago by now? 

That’s right, he thinks, awkwardly maneuvering his hand up and down. He recalls the more foolish early days of his life, when he was in his teens and sex was all the craze amongst his peers. The one thing that actually should’ve changed with time, yet only grew worse.

He had found the activity disinteresting back then, much like he does now, observing the ripples across the swamp in his room as he rhythmically moves his hand. Up and down, up and down. 

He tries to summon back the adrenaline he experienced while torturing the demon, but it was slowly fading away, each stroke of his arm cooling down the pulse further. The skin on his palm was growing tired of brushing over the same crooked vein, his cock not hardening nearly enough to penetrate another’s innards. He redirects his attention toward the activity. The best he gets is a slight twitch, his member half-erect only from the arousal of torture half an hour prior, and the repeated stimulation from his hand. 

This is what people get all excited over? How laughable, really. Not that he was so surprised, considering how pitiful many of them were already, even without their questionable choice of pastime. 

He gives his arm a rest, squeezing at the base of his cock then languidly moving his fingers upward until he comes to a stop at the tip. A modest smear of precum peeks from the opening, and he watches the viscous fluid gather into a bead, which he spreads over the head of his cock with his thumb. The miniscule feeling is growing into a low-level buzz in his gut, like an itch he can’t be bothered to scratch. 

One time, he reminds himself. That means finishing the whole experience. He resumes the motion, but before he could get back into it…

“Alastor?” His eyes, which have started to shut from concentration, snap open at the sound of Charlie’s excitable voice at the door.

Now, of all times! It’s a good thing he sent his shadow to guard the door. He sighs, tucking his half-hard member back into the confines of his slacks and picking up his cane - with his other hand, of course. He swings the door open, his smile gleaming and wide as always. 

“What is it now, Charlie?” 

The blonde squeals, her hands clapping together quickly before she flourishes them toward you. “We have a new guest!” 

He notices you then, a tiny thing beside Charlie, eyes shining just as bright if not more than the princess. He could already tell, without you even speaking a word, how bothersome you were likely to be. How wonderful. 

But the show must go on, and his smile grows even wider, fixing his stare on you in the hopes of making a fearsome first impression. “Well it’s a pleasure to meet you, dear!” 

You don’t flinch at all; instead, you lean in to match his smile, enthusiastically shaking his hand with glee - the hand that he used to do… that, he realizes in dread. No matter how much of a nuisance you were going to be, this was absolutely inappropriate to do to a lady, nevertheless, one he’d just met. But of course, you don’t know that. 

“It’s a pleasure to meet you too, Alastor! I’m so excited to work here at the hotel! I can tell we’re going to be good friends already!” 

“Mmmhmm, I have no doubt you’re correct.”

The subtle flair of sarcasm is immediately lost on both you and Charlie, and the two of you squeal simultaneously.

“Best friends!” Charlie cheers, holding your hand in one and his in the other. 

“The bestest!” You giggle, leaning your head affectionately on her shoulder.

He strains his smile. “Now then, aside from the friendly introductions, I assume there is something you require from me?” He directs his attention to Charlie, whose eye suddenly sparks up as though remembering something. 

“Oh yes!” She clutches onto your shoulders, presenting you to him. “Our new guest here is looking for a job! She’s brand new in Hell and found out that you don’t just get to stop working after death, unfortunately. So she came to our hotel from that brilliant ad you made, and we were brainstorming what sorts of jobs she could take here.”

“You… just got here, and your first reaction is excitement?” That… is interesting, although it’s an avenue to be explored another time. 

Your eyes sparkle at what you likely presumed to be his interest. “I’ve always known that I was going to Hell anyway! I just didn’t know it would be so cool!” 

Charlie swoons at that, taking your hands in hers. “Oh we are just going to have the best time together I already know! I should take you to Lulu World, I used to go on the rides there with my dad all the time!” 

“There’s. An. Amusement park??”

He increases the sound of his static until the two of you finally notice him. “As you lovely ladies were saying?” 

“Right! We were thinking…” Charlie wiggles her eyebrows at you, which you catch and reply with one of your own. 

“...That I could be your assistant!” 

All the static stops. “I beg your pardon?” 

“Your assistant! Charlie was telling me about how you do so much for the hotel, that it’d be better if you had somebody helping you!” 

His grin remains frozen on his face, radio-dialed eyes boring straight into yours, which never seemed to dull no matter what they were looking at. Weren’t you afraid of him in the slightest? It’s almost insulting, how you approached him so fearlessly. Perhaps it’s only because you’re new to Hell. That thought relaxes him slightly, his mind churning in delight at the picture of you a few weeks from now, much more tame as you’ve learned to stay in your lane. 

“I do not require any assistance-.” 

Charlie’s face instantly falls.

“...But, I suppose, if no other career option in the hotel is available, I will take you as my assistant.” 

“Great! Awesome! Thank you so much, Alastor!” Her face lights up so quickly that he rolls his eyes; that girl was such an open book that it hurts to look at sometimes. 

Then there’s a figure colliding into his chest, as two arms wrap around his back. “I’m so, so glad!” Your girlish voice is too loud for his sensitive ears this close, and though it takes him a moment to react, when he finally does, he hisses, flattening his ears as he pulls away instinctively. 

“Do not step out of your boundaries, my dear.” 

To your credit, you do pull away quickly; but the same unbeatable optimism still shone in your eyes, as though you didn’t take his word as a threat at all. 

“I’m sorry!” You didn’t look nearly enough sorry. “So when are we gonna get started? I hear you work in a radio tower! Oooh that sounds so fun! But I wouldn’t mind getting started on the rest of the tasks you do around the hotel either, I’m sure there’s a lot!” 

Alastor bites back another loathing groan, the corners of his normally well-practiced grin threatening to fall. He could only hope your initial excitement would wear off within a few days.

—----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

“Alastor, do I put in the eggs or the bacon first?” 

…It’s gotten worse. 

“Cook the bacon first, then the eggs in the leftover grease.” 

“Got it!” You zoom off, hurrying as you move to do just as he says. 

He sighs, taking the opportunity to direct his attention back to the script he was working on; but he knew it wouldn’t be long until you once again appear in front of his vision, free to help again.

He was used to dealing with irritating personalities as a public figure, but none had been as bad as this; because the difference was, that he could eventually get away from them. You, however… he didn’t quite hate you. Aside from being a naturally excitable person, you were pleasant and helpful enough. The issue was that you were too helpful. You were always around to help, finishing every meaningless task he threw your way in mere minutes. And once you finished, you would come back for more. 

Goodness, he’s never seen someone this hardworking! You worked as though you were a single mother of five fighting for a living, rather than a childless soul free to spend the bare minimum effort for the rest of your afterlife. Even at night, there was no rest! When you found out that he preferred his nights sleepless, you were eager to copy him, insisting that you had never enjoyed sleeping; it was only for the sake of living that you did so. And while it was true that he had grown used to the nights awake, your persistent presence was starting to make him tired enough to long for rest. 

The sound of the kitchen sink turning off catches his attention. His ears flick in your direction, listening for the telltale sign of your scampering feet. 

And sure enough, a few moments later, you’re here. “Breakfast is ready and served!” 

To his surprise, you actually sit yourself down on the couch next to him. You? Taking a rest? Well, it should preferably be farther away from him, but at least he wouldn’t have to do the whole act of sending you off for a task, and then waiting in dreaded anticipation for the timer to end, bringing you to him like clockwork.

“That’s wonderful, dear. Good job!” He takes a sip from his “Oh deer!” mug. “Say, you’ve been working very hard all week; does the idea of a day off entice you at all?”

You shake your head, swinging your feet below the edge of the couch. “Nah, I’m good. It’s been so fun working with you I hardly felt it was work at all!” 

“I see.” Another sip.

This wasn’t going to do. You see, there was yet another unexpected issue your constant presence brought. That little… experiment of his. He had no room to finish the experience, simply because you were always there! He supposed that he could give it up altogether. After all, he was never interested in the first place. 

But then he would also never get to check off that irksome box. He had to find some way to finish, if only just to call it a day. If you weren’t going to take the day off, then… he was just going to have to find some way to keep you busy for long enough. But what was there for you to do? There are certain parts of his workload that he simply can’t have you touching. His radio equipment, for one. You wouldn’t be going anywhere near that. Which does reduce his options by a lot. 

Perhaps he could have you assist Husker? Or-. His grin sharpens. Or! Ah, what a great idea! 

“…Alastor?” You question. “Are you still there?”

“Yes, yes, of course I’m here silly, I'm right in front of you!” 

“Oh, good. Because I thou-.” 

“My dear, I’ve suddenly thought of a task I need your assistance for!” 

“Oooooh what is it?” You perk up, back straightening as you bunch your hands in anticipation. “Is it gonna be more cooking? Sweeping? Walking back and forth in the hallways a hundred times while counting my fingers? You never did tell me what that was for, by the way.” 

“Not at all! I think it’s about time I request you do something more… difficult. Something more time consuming that I didn’t think you were ready for until now.” He stands up, guiding you by your shoulders to the bar. “-Niffty!” 

“Aw, yes, I love her! What about her though?” 

“Wonderful! Then I believe you’ll be perfectly suited to the task of entertaining her.” He snaps his fingers, drawing the one-eyed cyclops to him. “Niffty dear, why don’t you show her the bugs you’ve got there?” 

He grins even wider when you visibly cringe at the bugs, that being the first negative reaction you’ve shown since arriving at the hotel. He watches for only a few more moments before turning his back, knowing that he could leave the rest to the little cyclops. 

Now, to take advantage of the time he’s earned for himself. His steps are oddly eager for a mediocre activity, his rush to close his bedroom door out of the norm. Once again, he has his shadow watch over the outside, as he sits himself on the edge of his bed, shifting the band of his pants over his hips. 

He feels the itch come back, subtle and buzzing like a pesky mosquito, as though he were picking up at exactly the same level of arousal as where he last left off.

 Good, that should save him some time. His fingers wrap around his half-hardened cock, giving it a squeeze to tease the light pulse at his tip. The itch soothes as he works his hand down his shaft, causing him to breathe a small sigh of relief. He slowly quickened his pace, his cock becoming stiffer as his movements sent more blood to engorge it, flushing his tip with a pretty red shade. He has to admit that the feeling was becoming pleasurable. Although he has no need for such a thing when killing works just as well to get his adrenaline racing.

Surely, doing it with another would have little difference. He feels his jaw clench, grin tugging at the edges as he quickens his hand further, determined to get his high over with as fast as possible so that life could continue. 

The tightening of his abdominal muscles as he neared a climax wasn’t entirely unfamiliar to him; despite having an inactive sexual life, the thrill of a good kill was sometimes intense enough that arousal would stiffen his cock similarly to how he was now. Yet the unbearable growl in his stomach, and the almost painful sudden swelling of saliva in his mouth, always overpowered the feeling from below, leading him to satisfy that carnal desire with the consumption of another, from the irreplaceable feeling of control beneath his fingertips as his victims screamed with the regret of crossing him. 

A slight sheen of sweat gathers above his brow as he feels unpracticed muscles prepare his orgasm, stroking faster until-.

Three sharp knocks ring on his door. “Alastor? I’m back! Are you in there?” 

He has never directed the fury he currently felt toward any woman; but you were coming close to being the first. He had half the mind to just… continue, let you wait outside. But that would only work if you were literally any other person. Knowing you, you would just persistently call for him until he answered, and that would definitely disrupt his concentration on achieving his climax. He reluctantly tucks his still twitching cock back into his slacks, fumbling around as he struggles to conceal the bulge protruding there. He fixes the lapels on his coat.

“...Hello, my dear. Back so soon?”

You sheepishly look at your toes. “Yeah. Sorry if I was bothering you-.” Hmmm. Some self-awareness for once. Perhaps you could be trained. “-but Niffty got distracted in the middle of showing me her bugs. She’s by herself now, smacking her head with a broom. Is she going to be alright? I mean, you’re kind of like her boss right?” 

“I own her soul. And yes, she will be alright as she always is. Funny! I expected you to last longer with her, given how popular you’ve become amongst the residents of this hotel. Was that all, or was there something more important you came to bother me for?” 

“Yeah the thing is, I’m not that good with bugs so I couldn’t keep her entertained.” You seem to be entirely unaware of his jab, as your face brightens again. “I came to ask for another task! Aside from the bugs thing, I can pretty much do anything else! In fact, I can work all day if you need me to.” 

Known weaknesses - bugs. He’ll store that in his mind for future use. “I’m well aware of your work ethic! You… just seem to never run out of energy.” 

You beam, taking his words as a compliment. “Yup!” 

“...But I may not always be ready with a task for you. With that in mind, why don’t you check up on the other residents? I recall you taking quite the liking to our dear princess of the hotel.” 

Your face falls. Oh, if you cry at this moment, he will have truly hit his last nerve. Unexpectedly, his cock, which still sat uncomfortably hard in his pants, stirs at the thought of your teary face; sobbing as you begged for his forgiveness for being such a nuisance. He pushes that thought away. 

“I do want to spend time with Charlie, but she’s in the middle of figuring something out with her dad. And Angel Dust is always at his job, Husk doesn’t talk much, and you know Niffty…” You stop as you count to your fourth finger. “...And that’s everyone in the hotel.” 

“And what about simply spending time by yourself? You must have passions you enjoy outside of working.” 

With that, your face falls even further, your pupils downcast, lashes lowered. Must you play this act with him? “I used to, when I was alive. But I just… can’t find the point of doing so anymore after death.”

For a moment, he thinks that he’s hit a weak spot. Then you recover in record time, rubbing your hands together with an animated smile. “Because there are just so many other things to do in Hell! I want to take in everything this place has to offer!” 

And how could he turn down such a brilliant display of optimism? It would be one thing if you had broken down, weeping some sob story about not wishing to be left alone. Then he could easily spin some excuse to cast you aside, preferably forever. It was another, to have you insist with genuine excitement, how you enjoyed working for him. In this case, you would be the one in control if he were to turn you down; that would be a display of weakness from him, not you. 

It could be worse. You could be the horribly unhelpful variety on top of your constant proximity. As for his little experiment… he would just have to find a way to carry it out in the little time you were away from him. Thinking, plotting deliberately long tasks that you managed to solve in a quarter of the time he planned for you. He even trusted you with the tasks he wouldn’t let you touch at first; fine, you could touch his stuff, edit his scripts (not that he would use your edits), clean whatever! Anything to keep you busy for long enough!

And so it goes; every time his wrists moved faster, nearing that ever-unreachable climax, you were there, knocking at his door. It came to the point where his expectancy of your arrival made it even more difficult to achieve his orgasm; the thought of your interruption restrained the frustrating throb of his cock to constant level of almost-there but never-finished. 

It was beyond vexing! Every time, he came closer to the idea of ending you. Though it would be uncharacteristic, given you didn’t fit his usual demographic; that might also come with its benefits, as it would be easier to blame your sudden disappearance as a… happy accident. 

But he couldn’t bring himself to do so. Whereas he usually anticipates the feeling of victory after killing, he couldn’t help but feel like killing you meant he was losing. That it was evidence your overwhelming good cheer had finally gotten to him, and killing, in this case, means his surrender to your attack. 

Not to add that despite his recent contemplation, he really has never thought of killing a woman. It was not out of some strange moral construct, but rather the self-important disgust at the thought of becoming as pathetic as the demons he normally enjoyed obliterating. No, he wasn’t going to stoop to such a level.

So he holds on, letting your interruptions continue, figuring that one day he had to be desperate enough that his orgasm would come quicker, before you could knock at his door. Yet no matter how aroused he was, no matter how painfully strong the urge to release; he could never finish the race before you got there. 

Subtle jabs and hints flew past you. Direct expulsion would mean his loss. Threatening you never worked, and you always seemed to be strangely calm as you swung your legs back and forth, watching with utter ease his show of tearing apart his captured souls. In fact, to his incomprehension, that seemed to be the part of his day you were the most neutral about; happily humming along to the jazz he played, eyes casually fixated on his cannibalism the same way eyes normally stare at a mediocre TV show - unbothered, neither interested not repulsed. 

Just what did you do to get into Hell? 

He can feel the precum pressing uncomfortably, his pants pushing against the over-sensitive tip of his cock as he listened to you ramble on about how you didn’t mean to bother him, but you had questions about how to work certain equipment in his studio. His ears are flat, eyes narrowed as his grin threatens to actually fall. But no, he had to endure it all as he pretends to be wholly unaffected, patiently (albeit with an extra edge of snark in his voice) explaining to you the mechanics. 

“I would’ve never imagined handling radio equipment in my afterlife! I was a teacher when I was alive, you know.”

A teacher? Interesting, that was the first piece of information he had gathered about your life. Though he couldn’t imagine what kind of school would allow you near their children, especially with his knowledge now that you’ve ended up in Hell. Or perhaps, your upbeat attitude was exactly what they were looking for. 

His stream of thought is cut off by your happy humming, bending over his desk as you poke around his equipment. Unfortunately, he finds his eyes lingering on the curve of your butt, the edge of your panties peeking innocently at him from under the atrociously short hem of your skirt - were the modern people so comfortable with walking around nearly nude? It wasn’t that he found the side of your rear particularly enticing, nor was he attracted to the mere appearance of someone’s privates; but he found himself wondering, fantasizing, of how easy it would be to restrain you against his desk and take you there. How easy it would be to get this over with.

His cock strains tightly against the fabric of his pants, reminding him of his predicament. He grits his teeth, pulling at his hair in a rare display of regret, and desperation. Why did he ever take on such a ridiculous experiment? He prided himself on his composure and unbreakable self-control, yet the very sensation of his length throbbing for a release, and the uncomfortable persistent ache in his cock as he went about his day; a sensation that was usually entirely dormant, bothered him so greatly he felt he might go insane if he didn't finally climax.

He was no stranger to the idea that desperation was the root cause of many bad decisions; he just never thought that he, of all people, would fall prey to it one day. 

He thinks he must’ve lost his mind a few days later as he lets your knocks continue on his unlocked door, one hand pumping at his angry red cock. This was supposed to be the original experiment anyway, he tries to rationalize. He’s beyond caring about the consequences. One time only, he reminds himself, teeth gnashing together as he lowers his boundaries at a snail's pace, for the first time letting your voice infiltrate his activities, even fuel them. 

“Alastor…? I’m done cleaning your desk. What can I do next?” 

You quiet down. Then you speak up again, hesitantly, as though you somehow also knew you would be crossing an unspoken boundary if you were to twist the doorknob. “Alastor, if you're ok with it, I’m coming in.”

Wonderful. He can’t wait to see the pained look on your face as he fucked your womb, forcibly erasing that unshakeable mask of optimism you wore; replacing it with apology, regret, and subservience. 

Then you speak up again. “Actually, I better not. I don’t know if you’re in there but if you are, come find me when you’re done with whatever you’re doing alright?” 

He stops his movement, a feeling of absurdity taking over his mind. No! Absolutely not! Well, it was what he wanted all along, but not when he had already prepared himself to accept the feeling of your hole clenching deliciously over his cock, not when he could finally 

Against his will, he calls out for you. “You may come in if you wish, my dear. The door is unlocked.” 

He hears your footsteps stop again, unsure and slow. Were you already aware of what was going on behind the walls? “Oh ok. Only if you’re sure though.” 

What happened to your lack of respect for his boundaries? He rolls his eyes at the door, impatiently waiting for you to crack it open, waiting to see your reaction as you see the depraved motion of his hand now moving languidly across the length. What shameful look would cross your face?

“I’m coming in!” The door opens. 

If he wasn’t so against the technology, he would’ve wished to capture your expression with a camera; your smile drops, eyes widening as you stood there absolutely frozen, always-running mouth still for once as you look between his face and hand, brain short circuiting at the sight of him. It was rewarding in a near mouthwatering way, to see you finally react the way he wanted you to. He feels superior, the way he was always meant to, as he sits perched on his bed grinning, never stopping the motion of his hand as he watches your face start to take on a red hue. 

…That satisfaction doesn’t last long though, as you seem to regain your composure, the only hint of your prior expression being the flush on your cheeks. He’s taken aback as you yet again regain your usual beam, albeit a bit more bashfully. 

“Is this a new type of task for me?” 

…Oh, fuck it. He extends one of his tendrils to slam the open door, eyes glowering as he collects you by the waist with another. Up close, he sees your bravado waver; your eyes glued to the now furious red head of his cock, which rubs against your stomach as you land on his lap. 

“My dear assistant, do you have any idea how much trouble you’ve caused the last couple of weeks?” 

He wasn’t going to let you respond, but in yet another turn of events, you press yourself closer to his throbbing cock, coyly smiling up at him through your lashes. “Have I? Well I can always assist with the trouble I caused.” 

At any other time, he would’ve jumped on the opportunity to dig deeper into your motivation; but right now, he’s beyond caring to decipher your intention. All he wants is to sink his cock into your waiting hole, which warmed his length teasingly through only the thin separation of your underwear. 

He digs his hands into the sides of your hips, the sharpness of his teeth glistening from the low light in his room. “I’m afraid your assistance isn’t needed at the moment.” 

Your brows raise in confusion, temporarily caught off guard by his statement. “What-.” 

Before you could finish your sentence, he’s torn off your panties with a skilled claw, grin straining as he prods the tip of his cock into your already wet folds. Were you waiting for this? The thought, which should irritate him, only intensifies the guttural desire to ruin you. You let out a breathless squeak as he pushes his cock into your walls in one go. He feels blood collecting between his teeth where he bit himself to stop the utterly humiliating sound of relief that would otherwise fall out. You, on the other hand, gasp for air as you attempt to adjust to the shock of his intrusion. 

He presses your body into his pristinely folded sheets, grin straining as your back collides with the headboard, the jolt of the motion rocking your pussy flush against the base of his cock, where your clit smacks wetly against his abdomen. 

“You can just watch me do my job.” 

He does one experimental thrust, feasting on the sight of your head throwing back as he hits that spongy spot inside you, licking up the gratifying sounds of your cries. He pins your arms to the headboard as he pulls back, then thrusts again. Oh… this does feel phenomenal. 

If only for the pure fact that he had been denied his release since you’ve made your entrance, he could barely think as he picked up the pace, moving his hips back then slamming them forward in the way he’s only heard of until now. You moan with every thrust of his hips, the pathetic little sound vibrating from the vigor of his movements. 

He realizes, mortifyingly, that he can already feel his orgasm approaching. That isn’t supposed to happen this fast, is it? It certainly never was that way the few times (well, recently many times) he experimented with his own hand; but the moist, gummy heat of your walls seemed to coax his length, beckoning him to release and paint them white. 

He grits his teeth, refusing to give in. Were things always destined to end this way? So that no matter which way he took things, you would be the one to win? 

He speeds up his pace then, mind attempting to focus on anything but the depraved ache of his pent-up cock, balls tight with a torrent of cum, despite how his release was the only thing that the animal part of his brain craved. If this was your plan all along - no, even if you were unaware and it was simply your nature to be devious - he’ll ensure that he at least makes you come first, make you fall apart on his cock before he ejaculates. 

Your eyes are hazy, bottom lip caught succulently between your top row of teeth, as your back arched up so your nipples would graze his suit each time he sunk into your deepest spot. By the looks of your trembling thighs and quickening breath, it wouldn’t be long until you cum, his wanting brain reasons. 

He has one knee digging into the bedsheets, his other leg working to powerfully ram into you; and he tightens his own muscles, willing himself to contain his long-awaited release. 

“Alastor! A-A-lastor!” You call out his name, and he feels a surge of satisfaction rushing through him; your submission like a hefty meal that feeds straight to his starving gut. 

Then your eyes roll back, stilling as your walls convulse rhythmically around his cock. His nails rip into the bedsheets, prepared to resist this climax, wanting to wait until he fucked you into a second orgasm. 

But your unpredictable little mind has other plans, and as you suddenly bite down on his shoulder, teeth sinking all the way into the muscle there; he groans in surprise, the first noise he’s let escape during the whole session, cock twitching as it releases his sperm in lengthy ropes against his will. 

Your sweaty face is smug, smiling up at him as you playfully flick at his hair. He forces himself to recover, the irritation crawling back into his heart twofold. 

He’s going to fuck that look right off your audacious face.

—----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

“It was amazing! I simply didn’t know one could do such a thing with a rope! Especially with how tight-.” 

Alastor nods, tuning out and sipping his coffee as Rosie droned on about her latest escapade. It seems she’s found yet another man to toy with; and although he wasn’t particularly interested in this story, he was looking forward to her inevitable follow up on disemboweling him. 

“Is that so?”

“Oh yes! It’s important to prepare your meat well, as in the case of any dish. But sinner meat requires a different type of preparation. It’s unfortunate that you’ll never know the taste.” She giggles, stirring her cup of tea. 

“I might’ve taken a sample since the last time we spoke.” 

Her eyes light up in recognition, excitedly leaning forward in her seat. “You have! And tell me, how did it go! Was it everything you hoped for?”

He sets down his mug. Was it all that great? Well he supposed that while it wasn’t anything near the surge of primal power murder gave him, he certainly didn’t dislike it. 

He certainly hasn’t minded the new change to his routine; when sometimes, after a broadcasting session where his adrenaline is rushing particularly high, after he solves the growling of his stomach, he also tends to the ache of his cock by fucking your womb. As usual, you didn’t mind providing him with your assistance, pliantly spreading your thighs on his table whenever you recognized the look of raw hunger in his eyes, that look of hunger that differed from his usual craving for meat. The craving of flesh. 

But he hasn’t turned into some… lustful creature. He merely gave an unventured avenue a try, and it turned out to be more pleasurable than he expected. 

He widens his grin, static buzzing with threat as a warning to her not to question further, and Rosie takes the hint, smiling knowingly as she backs down. 

“It was alright.” 

.

.

.

A/N: It's up to you whether the reader did it on purpose LOL. Anywho definitely don't be expecting me to always post this often, this week I went through some weird writing craze. I have no idea when I'll post next but when I do it'll probably be a series (we'll see how that goes) cuz I want to try long-form writing (oooooo intimidating). I wrote this fic cuz I've heard that the way serial killers choose their victims is closely related to who they're sexually attracted to. & cannibalism is often used as a metaphor for love. And I thought that it was so interesting Alastor is this cannibalistic serial killer who's also asexual! I speculate that the adrenaline rush they get from killing might somewhat mimic arousal. And I thought that might be true for Alastor as well, he just doesn't project those feelings onto another person cuz he's asexual... BUT WHAT IF HE DID? Well, I wrote a fic to find out and thought Tumblr might like it lol. Not that I'd know about how all that feels cuz despite my amazing wonderful extremely realistic writing skills it might surprise you that I've never killed anyone or done a sex... My author notes are more like author short essays (that's why I put them at the end)

Taglist:

@angeldustharmony, @littlebluefishtail, @cryssyd, @reath-solia, @speedycoffeedelight, @mo-0-o Comment below if you wanna be added!

[madnessatdawn]

Choose a Candy with AVENGEANCE!

A few months back I did a poll and all it said was choose a candy. I decided today I would remake this poll with a brief description and where it orginates from and also prove to the people from the last poll that no I didn't MAKE UP any of these damn candies.

YOU THOUGHT I WAS DONE NO!

CANDY BE UPON YE!!!!!

[after-witch]

Horrorfest: He Sat Upon a Throne of Pumpkin Pie [Yandere Mahito x Reader]

Title: He Sat Upon a Throne of Pumpkin Pie [Yandere Mahito x Reader]

Synopsis: ... Mahito and a very special pumpkin pie

For Horrorfest request: Mahito and a very special pumpkin pie

Word count: 1149

Notes: Yandere, Mahito is his own warning, food related horror

The last thing you ever expected Mahito to set down in front of you was a pumpkin pie. 

And when you’d looked up at him in genuine confusion, the last thing you expected to see on his face was a look of quiet pride and contentment. No manic grin, no slinky smile. Simply a serious pleased expression that didn’t seem befitting of his usual moods around you. 

“What… is this?” You asked, as if it wasn’t evident by its appearance.

“I made you a pie,” he said simply, although perhaps not so simply, as nothing was ever simple when it came to Mahito. He turned away from you, and you heard the distinct sound of cutlery rattling before he set down a small plate, a fork, and a knife. 

The chair screeched when he pulled it back and sat down. He put his elbows on the table and simply stared at you.

“Well?” He asked, when you had evidently not moved quickly enough. “Aren’t you going to try it?”

Your hands moved slowly, feeling leaden, as you used the knife to cut a haphazard slice and lifted it onto your plate with a fork. He watched, tilting his head a little, as he was prone to do when observing you. 

On your plate, the slice of pie looked… normal. A subtle orange-brown color. Light brown crust. The filling was firm, but had a bit of moistness to it. 

Just a pie, a normal pie. 

Well, almost normal. The one peculiarity were the walnuts crushed up and interspersed throughout the slice.  You saw them in the cross section of the pie, now that you’d taken out a chunk. They looked a little burnt, but you suppose curses weren’t exactly prone to baking, and that was to be expected.

It was probably something he saw in a recipe book or on TV. He had been peeking at old recipe books lately, a stack he’d found in a box left on the side of the road. 

Mahito made a shooing gesture at you, and you broke out of your thoughts. 

“Come on, come on!” He said. His voice took on a whining tone that was at least more familiar to you than his unusual seriousness. “While it’s fresh!” 

And so, because you still had enough self-preservation to know that you should do what Mahito wanted, you scooped a bite of pie onto your fork and put it in your mouth, then chewed. 

He sighed almost instantly, a whimsical, dreamy sound, leaning his chin on his hand while he watched you eat. The way he looked at you was entirely unnerving, because he did not look in the least bit terrifying. Instead he looked at you like a man--a curse, you reminded yourself--enamored. Like you were the sweetest thing in the world. 

“I think I understand why people like to bake now,” he said, perhaps more to himself than to you. “Watching someone enjoy what you made…” He sighed again, his lips curling up in a smile. 

Although “enjoy” wasn’t quite the word you would use to describe what he’d made, even as you took a few more bites to placate him. 

The taste had the vaguest resemblance to pumpkin pie, you supposed. But it was more like someone’s idea of pumpkin pie, like it had been strained ten times over before finally being baked. 

Maybe he tried to make it from scratch and it wasn’t sweetened enough. Or maybe he’d over mixed or added too much liquid or baked it at the wrong temperature. You weren’t exactly a baker, and if you ever indulged in pumpkin pie, it was something you bought from the bakery. 

It wasn’t vile, but it wasn’t good or pleasant to eat either. A child’s first time baking in the kitchen. 

The walnuts were the strangest addition. They were burnt and their texture and taste was unusual. They weren’t crunchy, exactly, the way you expected a walnut (burnt or not) to taste. They had a slightly chewy texture, with an overlaying firmness. Like raisins encased in something, maybe. 

Maybe they were raisins… that would explain the overall unusual taste of the pie. 

“Mahito,” you said, dabbing at your mouth with the inside of your shirt since he didn’t see fit to give you napkins. “Are these walnuts or raisins? I can’t quite tell.”

Mahito blinked at you, his mismatched eyes holding an ounce of genuine confusion before they seemed to glint with an awful realization. And then his lips curved into a smile, the type of smile you hated to see, the kind that made you feel sick to your stomach.

He reached out and plucked one of the pieces from the cut pie, holding it with his thumb and forefinger. A bit of orange pie stuck to the edge of it. 

“I was able to make them smaller than usual,” he said, casually. “It took a lot of work. Especially once I started baking!” He pouted. “I had to go through a lot of kitchens before it came out looking this good… how does it taste?”

His words hit you low and slow. It took a while to put them together, like a puzzle you didn’t want to finish. 

“You were able to make… what smaller than usual?” 

And oh, didn’t a small part of you already know the answer? You weren’t naive anymore. Not after all you’ve been through with Mahito. What he’s done, what he’s made you do. 

What you’ve seen.

And now, what you’ve tasted.

Your tongue curled inside your mouth, the taste and strange, chewy texture of the--pieces--you swallowed lingering in your sense memory. 

The answer came but you knew it already.

“People!” Mahito popped the piece he held into his mouth and continued while he chewed. “I had to get a lot for this recipe. Did you know the recipe called for two whole cups of nuts? The people who make these books should be more considerate.” 

He closed his eyes and shook his head, an exaggerated mimic (but maybe it wasn’t a mimic, you thought) of annoyance. “It’s not like these ingredients grow on trees!” 

“Walnuts do grow on trees,” you said dully, thinking of the people he’d murdered and cooked and fed to you. How much did they suffer? (You did not ask yourself, ‘Did they suffer?’ Because you knew, from witnessing Mahito’s work firsthand, that they undeniably did.) Were they alive when he baked them? Were they alive–now? 

Mahito opened his eyes and widened them, unaware or uncaring of the turmoil roiling through your guts.  “Oh, really? Well, it was easier to substitute something else, anyway.” 

You shoved yourself away from the table, feeling the acrid vomit finally begin to climb up your throat.  Mahito made a soft sound of surprise--

“Don’t you want to finish your slice?” 

“No--you can have it.” You just managed to get the words out as you walked out of the kitchen, heading for the hallway and the bathroom.When you glanced back, his expression was back to that subtle pleasure. You half-wished for him to break out into a nasty grin. It was easier to stomach.

No pun intended. 

[millenniumfae]

Hades Fish - What They Taste Like, And How To Cook Them

TARTARUS

Hellfish - Evolved from pond snails, and as Achilles says in his codex, they traveled from the surface to the Underworld by sticking to the bottom of Charon's boat, and eventually became undead. Around the size of a navel orange. Tastes mostly like regular freshwater snail, except less of the 'dirt' aftertaste and more 'metallic blood' thanks to the Styx. Usually served lightly blanched to avoid chewiness, and served drizzled with oil and salt.

Knucklehead - Originally the spirits of common saltwater sardines and anchovies that convalesced into their own undead species. Classical Greece's fishing economy centered heavily around those two fishes, and that cultural reverence essentially brought the Knucklehead to existence, so to speak, through indirect worship. Average size of 12-15 inches, and they no longer have scales or skin, exposing their translucent green flesh. Has the flaky texture of oil fish when cooked, and tastes like if you stuffed a sardine with pennies.

Scyllascion - Related to the legendary Scylla, but didn't spawn from her as individuals. Like real life catfish, they can keep growing to monstrous sizes, and are aggressive and territorial. Only one Scyllascion hangs out in each large patch of Styx. Zagreus only ever catches the younger, smaller ones, since the huge varieties are too smart to be fooled by a Rod Of Fishing. Caught Scyllascion range from 17 inches to a Great Dane. It's cooked by removing its iron-hard head and fins, then roasted whole or in stews. Meat is surprisingly mild and absorbs flavor well.

ASPHODEL

Slavug - An example of a species that never evolved from a surface animal. They spend an equal amount of time in and out of the lava, sometimes hanging out on the rocks or the shore. An adult Slavug is about a foot long, and five inches thick. When they die, they go from lava-hot to stone cold, and usually cooked by boiled or steamed whole. Slice them like a cake to serve. The flesh is bouncy and porous like bread, and they taste like shellfish.

Chrustacean - These clearly-lobster-adjacent fish are not tolerant to the lava like the Slavug is, its carapace serves as a heat-proof shield. Shades of Asphodel sometimes keep them as pets because of their inquisitive, friendly behavior. Cooking Chrustaceans means prying off their metal shell before exposing them to heat, which leaves their raw, goopy flesh exposed before cooked to firm and usually made into lobster cakes, or as toppings on salad. Tastes like if a lobster was boiled in a sulfur spring.

Flameater - Canonically thought to be native to the Underworld, and perhaps related to the Ladon dragon that Heracles killed. Its large maw is actually a filter feeding system for Phlegathon's minerals, and its passive and shy, making it hard to catch. Average size of a desktop keyboard, and its mouth alone can stretch to the circumference of an umbrella. Cooked through application of frostbite by use of ice, usually by burying it in an icebox for 15-20 minutes. Eaten alone, its weirdly cartilage-ridden and tastes strongly of overcooked egg, but it makes for a great broth or stock starter.

ELYSIUM

Chlam - All fish of the Lethe feed on memories, and this one most of all. Evolved from surface scallops, not clams, lending it its flat, ridged shell and glowing eyes. Usually around the size of a human hand, but the older ones can be the size of a truck tire. Has the soft texture of real life scallops, but its taste depends on what memories it had most recently eaten; bittersweet, salty, horny, etc. Cooking multiple Chlams together in a stew makes for a taste best described as 'headache-inducing' if not spiced correctly.

Charp - The Codex entry implies that its the shade of real life Koi fish (which are colored varieties of the widespread Amur carp), but Hades also implies that its mythology exists independently outside of the Greek world. Koi wouldn't naturally exist above ground, and no one in-game would be familiar with them aside from a possible passing encounter. Therefore, the Charp evolved from common Greek carp into an undead species similar to the koi, and a few worldly shades have remarked on its similarity to a surface species found on distant shores. Like real-life koi, it tastes and cooks like carp, but tinged with memories like the Chlam.

Seamare - Thanks to the Lethe's calm, warmer waters, it has a few reefs that house a natural-borne seahorse-akin fish. They only feed on pleasant memories, lending it a sweet taste, and are usually the size of a dinner plate. They're also intelligent, and can memorize human faces. Catching them is difficult not because they hide, but because they fight back; thanks to all the warrior memories they've swallowed, they have a battle-spun spirit and won't let you reel them in without a struggle. If not kept as pets, they're usually speared on sticks and fire-roasted over coals.

TEMPLE OF STYX

Gupp - Naturally borne from the Styx, it's less of a guppy analogy and more like a Greek freshwater shad. They swim in schools against fast currents, and are usually the length of a pencil case. But like a guppy, they livebirth fry dozens at a time, and are used as utility fish for seeding waters. It lacks scales, like real life catfish, and has the unique life/death cycle of livebirthing pre-existing Gupp in a method of rebirth whereas all other Underworld fish have to wait to respawn upon being eaten. Thanks to its proximity to the surface, it tastes exactly like a regular river fish, just scaleless.

Scuffer - All fish in the Temple are sought-after for their unique overworld-ajacent taste, and the Scuffer even more so for its utility purposes; its tough and giant swim bladder can be made into high quality vellum, its toxin has many medicinal purposes useful to immortals, and its liver a fruity delicacy served raw. Other parts of its flesh are edible to anybody immortal/undead, but you still 'die' so its not recommended. A Scuffer's liver tastes reminiscent of a merlot thanks to its life spent swimming and feeding upon the Styx's floor. The adult ones can be as big as a pineapple.

Stonewal - Evolved from swordfish, and retains their migratory, aggressive behavior. They're an important part of the Underworld's ecosystem, because they regulate the population of any fish that make it too close to the surface world. Range wildly in size, from a modest foot long to as big as a bathtub. Usually cut into fillets and fried upon flat griddles, or served roasted on a rotating spit whole during feasts as a centerpiece. And like the previous two, they have utility purposes as well; their long, sturdy, but flexible bones are made into crafting tools, and weapons like bows and arrows.

CHAOS

Mati - Its appearance is a dead ringer to real life anglerfish fry, but it'll spend its whole life in their gelatinous, bloated form. As a fish of Chaos, it was borne from and represents sapient gaze; AKA, a gaze cast with intelligent emotion. Eating a boiled Mati has the texture of eating an old grape with a hard kernel within, and tastes like if fresh sea urchin was a yeasty porridge. Mati that can be caught are no bigger than a smartphone, but if you look into the distance, you can see car-sized ones.

Projelly - These fish spawn from Chaos like shed skin cells; unconsciously and ever continuing. They're unintelligent except for a minor nervous system that propels their bodies along in a purposeless compulsion. Which is what makes them hard to catch, since they float around too deep for a fisher to just scoop them up, but good luck trying to dredge one upon your hook. Pretty tasteless, but with a pleasant cartilage-y texture. Often served dried out as a snack, then re-hydrated or marinated to be chopped and plated cold with oil.

Voidskate - The biggest fish you can catch in-game. If you look closely, you'll notice that those table-sized Voidskates are seemingly swimming upside down, because when you cast a hook into their reality, you're actually pulling them down from where they fly in the air. Not only that, but their fishable state is their limbo life, and their 'dead, eaten' state is their actual life. They're a source of study from philosophers trying to learn more about life and death, but they never get far. Prepared by slicing into thick, dense steaks, then fried on grills. Has a sour, rich brightness like buttermilk.

[scarlettromanov]

Business as Unusual - Chapter 3: The Lesson

pairings: Wanda Maximoff x Natasha Romanov x Reader

word count: 5.3K

warnings(18+only): brief mentioning of Steve Rogers; eventual kate bishop; CEO! Wanda Maximoff; Brief mentioning of Stephen strange; Jealousy; Dom/sub; Domestic Fluff; Eventual Smut; Hurt/Comfort; Childhood Trauma; Mob Boss Natasha Romanov; Smoking; Food; Caffeine Addiction; mention of drugs; Alcohol; Mentions of Violence; mob wife Wanda Maximoff; Angst; NO CHEATING!; all parties communicate; brief Stephen strange slander

Chapter Three: The Lesson

The aroma of freshly brewed coffee fills your soul as you stand at your newly renovated apartment across the street from Wanda and Natasha’s. It’s Saturday, and the movers had swiftly taken everything you owned from your 600 square foot apartment in the city, to your 3,000 square foot apartment in the suburbs. The apartment was massive, and somehow you felt lonely. At least in your old apartment you were able to be alone in your seclusion. You were grateful though, this was the nicest place that you had ever lived. Wanda had insisted that this apartment building was the safest place for you to reside since she and Natasha would be close by if you needed them. 

Flashback to Thursday Night:

“Don’t you mean if you need me?” You giggled as the three of you sat in Russo’s together for dinner. Wanda’s nose scrunches, and she pats your hand with a bit of firmness. Natasha took a sip of her martini. Meanwhile you had opted for a Moscow mule. A classic and a favorite of yours. Citrus was the only way that alcohol could get past your sensitive taste buds. It tasted strong, and you wondered if it was socially acceptable that you were drinking with your bosses. From the way Natasha was knocking back Martini’s it didn’t seem like she cared much. Although, Wanda seemed to give you a curious look when you ordered your mule. You were more than old enough to drink. Despite still getting carded, you were more than halfway through your twenties. Maybe Wanda took you as the type to not drink? Perhaps this will be the only drink you should have around them ever, you think to yourself not wanting to tarnish their image of you already.

“Oh honey, we are here for you just as much as you are here for us,” Wanda’s words hang in the air around you for a few seconds. A sense of relief  washes over you. You couldn’t remember the last time someone told you that they care about you. You fight the urge to turn into an emotional pile of mush in your seat. Natasha sets her drink down, and looks at you long and hard.

“We mean that. Anything you need, Moya dorogaya. It’s yours,”  You have no idea what she just called you, and yet the skin of your cheeks tinges the slightest bit pink.

“Plus, Kate and Yelena live in the same building. If we aren’t around, well, they are usually there.” Wanda giggles looking over at Natasha. You follow Wanda’s gaze and see Natasha fake gagging. You snort at the sight of the most stunning woman you've ever seen acting so incredibly human. Natasha’s eyes flash, and a grin spreads across her face as she looks at you. The sound of your laughter catching her off guard.

“I don’t understand, why are you throwing up?” You ask before picking apart another breadstick with your fingers. Wanda gives you a chastising look. She already scolded you about not filling up on too much bread. You knew that you were ignoring your meal, but if you were being honest, you had about five pieces of Gnocchi before giving up. The texture made you nauseated. The dish was very tasty, but it was too chewy for your liking. Unfortunately you had always been like this, food was good until it was inedible. Natasha, who was halfway through her steak, reaches over with her fork, and picks a piece off your plate. 

“Well, Y/N,” Natasha says with a mouth full of Gnocchi. Wanda looks disapprovingly at Natasha as she speaks with her mouth full, “When a woman and a woman love each other very much,” Her voice takes on a stern tone. The bread drops from your hands onto your plate. Mouth popping open, you stammer, 

“Okay! Okay!” You nearly shout, waving your hands in front of you, cheeks now blazing hot. Natasha wiggles her eyebrows at you, and she chuckles. Wanda on the other hand is still trying to fight back her giggles. She wants you to eat, and you know that. Therefore you will banter as much as possible with Natasha until Wanda gives up. Still, mortified, you hide your face in your hands.

“I get it now,” You mumble into your palms, peering at the two of them through the spaces between your fingers. Natasha carefully reaches over, and with a gentle tug, she pulls your hands away from your face,

“Don’t hide from us. I like looking at you,” Her hand rests in yours for a moment, and you think she might keep her hand in yours. Her thumb methodically stoked the back of your hand. A man in a suit approaches the table. You realize it’s Natasha’s bodyguard.

“Yes, Clint?” Natasha sighs clearly not enjoying his interruption. He leans down, and whispers something into Natasha’s ear. Her eyes flicker over to Wanda, who has now forgotten your untouched food. Natasha lets go of your hand, and pushes away from the table. Instinctively you flex your fingers, feeling the spaces between them where Natasha’s had just been. 

“Excuse me ladies, it looks like the owner would like a word with me,” Natasha looks at Wanda, and then back at you, her voice is stern as she speaks,“Y/N, if you’d like something else to eat please order that. No more breadsticks, you hear me?” Your mouth pops open at her bold statement. Nodding angrily, you pick up your fork, stab a piece of gnocchi, and pop it into your mouth. Mentally you gag at how cold it's become.

“Good girl, I’ll be right back.”  She winks, and follows Clint away from the table.

You look up at Wanda who is taking a sip of her wine. She’s already staring at you. When you swallow the piece of gnocchi, she smiles.

“Would you like something else to eat, Y/N?” Your gaze drops again to the food, and you know that if you take another bite. Since you’d probably vomit immediately you hold off. Shifting uncomfortably in your seat you don’t meet Wanda’s eyes again. Your silence becomes deafening.

“Hey now, are you feeling alright?” Wanda reaches over, placing a hand to your forehead. Of course she thinks you don’t feel well. Normal people don’t gag because of the texture of their food. 

“I-I have this th-thing. I’m n-not sure why it happens.” You pause to grimace at your stutter. It was so embarrassing. Wanda waits patiently for you to continue. Taking a few deep breaths first, and then you continue, “Certain foods will get cold or gross a quarter or halfway through eating them, and I can’t finish the meal without feeling like I’m going to be sick.” You refuse to look up. Not quite looking at your plate, and not exactly ready to look up at Wanda. Almost as if your napkin is the most interesting thing you’ve ever seen. 

“Detka, why didn’t you tell me?” Wanda reaches over and lifts your chin so that you’re staring directly into her eyes. Her green orbs shimmer with the faint light of the lit candle on the table. You rub your sweaty palms against the fabric of your slacks. Did she know the effect she had on you? 

“I didn’t want to disappoint you, and I didn’t want you to think I was lying to you.” You admit. Wanda lips press together into a frown. She doesn’t like that answer, but she knows that you are telling her the truth. 

“Never, thank you for telling me. I know it wasn’t easy for you to tell me that. You don’t have to eat that anymore.” Sighing from relief you turn back to your bread. Wanda plucks it from your fingers. You cannot help but let out a small whine. Her eyebrows raise in surprise. 

“Ah ah, I’m getting you a menu, and you can pick something else. You will be starving by the time you get home if you just have bread.”

“Can I have Cannoli?” Your face lights up, and you attempt to give Wanda puppy dog eyes. Her features waiver for a moment between stern and something so much softer. 

“Y/N, that’s very cute, but no. After you eat real food. We will order you cannoli,” You frown, and immediately retort,

“What if I pay for it?” Your need for sugar or caffeine is growing rapidly.

Wanda cracks up as if that’s the most ridiculous thing you’ve ever said to her. She takes another sip of her wine, clearly enjoying your failed attempts. Her head tilts as she looks at you. 

“Not an option,” she says, and you huff, feigning anger. Wanda pretends to pout at you, and you stifle your laughter. Whatever this moment you were sharing was… a small part of you didn’t want it to end.

“Fine, if I must, Can I please have the minestrone soup?” You ask sheepishly, and Wanda smiles at you. Happy to hear that you want to eat something other than bread or sugar. 

“Yes, and you can have 1 breadstick with it.” You grin as the waitress brings you the cup of soup, and takes away your gnocchi. 

You’re finished with the soup by the time Natasha returns. Her face looks exhausted as she sits back down. Immediately she notices the empty bowl in front of you. 

“Good job,” Natasha doesn’t ask questions about the gnocchi. She just reaches over and ruffles your hair, and you glow under her praise. Wanda gives your hand a squeeze of encouragement as the three of you exit the building. Clint trails behind you all. You keep wondering why Natasha and Wanda need a security detail, but you Figure that that’s a question for another day.

Saturday Morning:

Standing in the kitchen now you wish that you had someone to share a cup of coffee with. Wanda and Natasha were probably still asleep considering that it was Saturday morning. 

Despite your urge to hide underneath the blanks all day, or disappear to the laundromat (thanks to Nat you had in unit laundry now). You decide to unpack, and put on your favorite Spotify playlist. 

The apartment is spacious, the kitchen open concept. Never in your life did you think that you would have exposed brick, and granite countertops. Wanda insisted on hiring their cleaning woman to come through and clean once a week for you. You make a list of groceries, and consider making a trip to the store when you realize that you don’t even know where the closest grocery store is.

“Shit,” you grumble when you Google the closest grocery store. 5 miles away. If you could drive you would be able to get there easily. You desperately don’t want to bother James on the weekend. He would pick you up, no questions asked. But out of an abundance of courtesy to his personal life you decide against calling him. Your stomach growls, and you decide to throw on a pair of jeans, and a faded Nintendo t-shirt. You take the elevator to the lobby, and the doorman stops you as you attempt to walk by.

“Miss. Y/L/N?” The gentleman looks to be about your grandfather's age. You smile kindly at him. 

“Yes?”

“Ms. Belova is looking for you,” He points to the elevators, indicating that you probably should head to Yelena and Kate’s apartment.

“Oh! Is she home?” You whirl, and your chest tightens from anxiety. Suddenly your outfit feels very casual and uncool. Briefly, you wonder if you should change before heading upstairs to see Yelena.

“She just headed upstairs about 5 minutes ago.” You opt against changing your outfit, in part because you think all of your “Cool” clothes are dirty, and partly because you only have about 1 cool outfit.

You nod your head, and thank the kind older gentleman. Immediately you speed walk back to the elevators. The elevator takes you all the way up to the Penthouse where Yelena and Kate live. Natasha had been sure to leave Kate’s number with you in case you couldn’t reach Yelena. When Wanda asked if you had emergency contacts in your phone, you admitted (rather shyly) that you did not have an emergency contact. Since going no contact with your father two years prior. 

For a brief period of time your ex-girlfriend had been your emergency contact, but after she decided to move across the country, leaving you with a broken heart… let’s just say you didn't have her number anymore. Before the doors open the speaker goes off in the elevator: 

“Yes?” You fidget before you hit the button to reply. The girl’s voice is kind and curious.

“Hi, uh this is Y/N. I was told that Yelena was looking for me.” Your voice comes out confident. Maybe this would go exactly the way that you wanted it to. Perhaps you’d even gain two new friends.

“Oh!! No way! Hold on!!” The voice says back, and suddenly the elevator doors fly open. A girl who looks to be somewhere around your age greets you. Her long black hair is pulled back into a messy bun. A long black cardigan covers her ash gray t shirt and black leggings. 

“Hi!! I’m-” 

“Kate Bishop, who is here?” Yelena calling her fiancé by her full name makes you grin. Somehow this doesn’t surprise you. Yelena barked your full name across the office whenever she saw you. Steve hated it, but it made you laugh. Anything to push Steve’s buttons, or really get under anyone’s skin, Yelena would do. If there was a staff meeting that Yelena was presenting at, you knew she was handing out some kind of snack, and giving snarky remarks to the older staff. She had a sense of confidence that you admired. Yelena walks into the foyer wearing her hair free flowing down her back. 

You take in Yelena’s outfit with subtle surprise. A tight black choker around her neck, black Skinny Jeans, black cut off, and leather jacket. Her work outfits were drastically different from this outfit. Her combat boots gave her a couple of more inches, but still she wasn’t as tall as Kate. Maybe Yelena could take you shopping. Wanda had offered to buy new clothes. Begrudgingly you declined since the thought of a fashion show for your boss (who makes you flustered at any given moment) felt like a bad idea.

“Kate,” she shakes your hand, and you smile at her. Kate is taller than you by at least 8 inches. 

“Y/N,”

“I know, I’m so happy to finally meet you! I’ve heard so much about you,” 

Your cheeks flush pink, and you wonder what exactly Yelena was telling Kate about you. Yelena eyes you, and turns her head slightly. She wraps an arm around Kate’s waist, and all you can think about is Natasha gagging the night before. 

“Ah yes, y/n y/l/n,” 

“Yelena,” you smile as Kate babbles on about how happy she is that you decided to visit, and how unfair it is that everyone got to meet you before she could. You think Kate is funny, and the polar opposite of Yelena. Yelena is playful of course, but she is so serious 75% of the time. Around Kate though, Yelena feels like a real person. You are perched on an island bar stool in their kitchen. Coffee mugs in your hands, when Kate tells you the story of how she and Yelena met.

It had been at a hotel bar. Kate's mother was holding a fundraising event, and R&M Industries were guests that night. Apparently back in the day, Wanda and Natasha dragged Yelena out to everything with them. Kate, who had been nursing a drink all night, watched Yelena beat some guy in darts. When the guy pulled a knife on her suggesting that Yelena hustled him, Kate had jumped by kicking the knife from his hands. Yelena, of course, was impressed with Kate's assistance, and bought her a drink afterwards. 

“Y/N, shall we start our self defense training today?” 

“Oh uh, y-yes?” The question had caught you off guard. Self defense training already? You swallowed hard, realizing that you had just agreed to let Yelena (most likely) kick your ass today.

“Good, I’m assuming you’ve never been in a fight before.” Yelena says nonchalantly before biting into a piece of toast. You see that Natasha isn’t the only sister that speaks with their mouth full.

“Babe,” Kate said in disbelief.

“Kate Bishop, look at Y/N. Can you honestly say that Y/N could even hurt a fly?”

Kate smacks Yelena’s arm, and Yelena scoffs and looks at her, shock filling her features, “what was that!” Kate snickers, and flashes you a smile. 

“I apologize for her lack of manners,” feeling bashful you run your hands over your arms, and admit that you’ve never been in a fight before. 

“I have killed flies though,” You snicker, and Yelena laughs with you. 

“You seriously have never had anyone hit you before? Not even by accident? ” Kate cannot believe it. You don’t know how to tell the two girls that you had been hit before, but not by a stranger. You run a finger along the faint scar on your temple. A flash of a dozen memories from your childhood playing in your mind. 

“No,” You lie with a small smile, and then add, “But I would like to learn how to protect myself,” Yelena grins, and Kate shakes her head at her fiance. 

- - - - - - - - - - - - -

This is how you find yourself lying face up on a mat in the gym of your apartment complex. Yelena peers down at you. She pushes a few beads of sweat from her eyes. 

“You do not give up, I will give you that Y/N  L/N,” Her thick Russian comes through more with a mouth guard in, “it’s kind of impressive how bad you are,” She helps you to your feet, and Kate hands you your water bottle. 

“We will work on your strength. Every day we will meet here at 5 a.m., run 3 miles, and weight training for an hour.” Yelena says before taking another drink, “We will do combat training three days a week,” In an attempt to hide your grimace you take a long sip of your water. Your muscles are screaming as you think about  a 7 day workout regime with Yelena. Internally, you are kind of excited to put on some muscle. Right now though, you just want another cup of coffee. Exhaustion setting in quick.

“I’ll be there too.” Kate says placing a reassuring hand on your shoulder. There was a kinship you felt with Kate, as if she had been the underdog at one point as well. 

“Natasha too, and I know how much you’d like to have her arms around you, Y/N.”  Yelena winks at you, and you turn scarlett. Blinking once, twice, and then handing your water bottle back to Kate. A hail mary to change the subject, you turn to Yelena, motioning her forward. 

“Let’s go again,” You crouch in the stance that Yelena showed you half an hour prior. Yelena shakes her head and laughs before matching your position. 

“Yelena, she’s had enough,” Kate warns, standing between you both.

“She’s a big girl Katie, she’ll know when she’s had enough,” You nod, agreeing with Yelena. Yes, you would know when you had enough, and you weren’t there yet. You were like 80% sure you could handle another round. 

“Alright,” Kate takes a few steps back, “Ready… Go!” With one swift movement, Yelena roundhouse kicks your chest, and you fly backwards. The air escaping from your lungs. Your ankle twisting as you fall backwards onto the mat. The sound that escapes your mouth is so childlike that you are shocked. You groan and reach for your ankle. The pain shooting through the joint.

“Shit!” Kate says as she rushes to your side, “Y/N, are you okay?”

“My ankle, ouch-fuck,” you groan cupping your hands around your right ankle. The joint is now twice its normal size.

“Ah - I am sorry, I seem to have forgotten how bad you are,” Kate flashes a horrified look at Yelena. Yelena bites her lip as she kneels down to your level. Her eyes grew more concerned with each passing moment.

“Nat’s going to kill you!” Kate squeaks from your side. 

“Wanda’s going to kill you, sestra,” Natasha’s voice pierces through the gym. Yelena’s eyes flash as Natasha rushes over to you. She’s wearing Lululemon leggings, and a double needle pocket tank top with a zip up hoodie. Her sneakers don’t make a sound as she runs across the linoleum gym flooring.

“Sestra, she asked to keep going. What was I supposed to say?” Yelena says with a bit of panic in her voice. Her eyebrows pull together ever so slightly. 

“You say, ‘no, y/n you’re not prepared to fight me, I am literally trained in Boxing, Capoeira, Karate, Kickboxing, Krav Maga, Kung Fu, Muay Thai, and Tae Kwon Do.’” Natasha’s arms immediately prop you up against her. You’re seeing stars, but you are also hyper aware of Natasha’s arms around you. Yelena rolls her eyes when she sees that you are blushing.

“Do you need ice?” Kate asks  you to try to stop the world from spinning. 

“Yes, and have Clint call Wanda. Have her meet us at y/n’s apartment.” Yelena begins to mumble something about finishing her workout, and Natasha snaps her head up.

“No way, you’re going to tell my wife what exactly happened.”

Wanda bursts into your apartment to see you sitting with an iced ankle on the couch in the living room. Natasha is attempting to find you something for lunch. Yelena Sat on the floor casually handing you m&ms from a small tube. You weren’t mad at Yelena. She was right, you didn’t know your limits. It was a lesson well learned. Kate had excused herself to go walk Yelena and Kate’s dog, Lucky. Wanda’s eyes landed on Yelena, and you could tell she was pissed. Her anger radiated off of her, and you swore she would have had choice words with Yelena if you had not been there. 

“Hi,” your voice is small, and Wanda looks up at you. You smile weakly at her, and her anger melts. She makes her way over to you on the couch, your foot is propped up on the auto man.  

“Sweet girl, look at you.” Yelena’s phone begins to ring, and she jumps to her feet. Before her escape, Wanda reaches for Yelena’s wrist and visably squeezes. She winces at the pain. 

“Ow,” 

“We will speak about this later,” Wanda’s manicured nails dig into Yelena’s wrist. Yelena rips her arm free of Wanda’s grasp. Rubbing her thumb over the crescent moon imprints left on her skin from Wanda’s nails.

“Yes, boss.” She says annoyance clearly in her tone, before picking up the call, and exiting your apartment. Wanda begins to fuss with your pillows, and examines your foot. She moves up your face, and looks at your chin, which is healing slowly. This morning you hadn’t bothered to replace the bandaid, deciding that the wound needed to oxidize. 

“It’s my fault,” you say, peering up at Wanda. She shakes her head before tucking a piece of hair behind your ear. You had been the one demanding another round with Yelena. Kate had tried to stop you guys. Always having something to prove, but never being able to show for it. Classic Y/N, wanting to prove yourself, and failing without grace. Yelena was only trying to show you that you have limits, and you clearly didn’t know them. Wanda pinches the bridge of her nose, as if this is the last thing she wants to hear from you. Yelena didn’t deserve to be yelled at though. She could yell at you instead, you deserved it. You can tell Wanda recently showered, her hair slightly damp, and pulled out of her face with a clip. This is the most casual you’d ever seen Wanda dressed. She wears black leggings, a black T-shirt and blue flannel. 

“That’s not possible,” Her voice sounds strained. Natasha, noticing Wanda’s exasperated tone, walks over to the couch

“I don’t know my limits,” You admit softly, staring at your hands in your lap. You begin to pick at the skin around your cuticles. Natasha sits on your other side, she places a hand on yours. Stopping you from picking your cuticles further. She shakes her head at you, “None of that, Detka.” Nodding your head obediently you go back to just staring at your hands.  

“It looks like just a sprain, Wands. She can put pressure on it, but not much.”

“And her chest?” Wanda asks Natasha, both of them leaning forward the slightest bit to look at each other. Natasha appears calm, her red hair braided down her back. Green eyes full of confidence that you will be okay. Wanda appeared composed, but her eyes kept flickering back to your face. To their surprise you speak again, still not looking up,

“My chest is Bruised,” you mumble. You didn’t like how they spoke about you like you weren’t here. Wanda runs a hand through your hair. You look up at her with wide eyes. Her hand lingering on your face, thumb stroking your cheek bone. Her eyebrows knit together in the way they always do when she’s concerned. You feel a bit like she’s babying you. 

“Are you in pain, honey?” She asks, and you want to say yes. And yet, you still want to show Wanda and Natasha you are also capable of becoming total badass. So you lie, your pride winning over your need for comfort. 

“No, I’m tough.” Your lip trembles. Confusion filling your thoughts. Why were you reacting like this? Considering you had experienced a beating 10 times worse than this before. This was child’s play. The feeling in your chest was all too familiar though. It reminded you of sitting in the kitchen of your fathers home. Icing a black eye or a bruised cheek. You never had anyone ask you if you were in pain. The reality is that you’d only known how to nurse your wounds in silence. This dynamic of comfort had you feeling like a fish out of water.

“We never said you weren't tough, Y/N,” Natasha says, eyeing you carefully. Seeing an internal battle behind your eyes as you sat there feeling it all. You take your eyes away from Natasha’s as you stare forward. You need to stop crying right now. You were going to ruin this for yourself. All because you are too much of a wimp, your brain screams at you. 

“Nat, I told you this was a bad idea.” Wanda looks at her wife with a pained expression. Your heart begins to stammer in your chest, as you start to panic. 

“No!” More tears spill over, you turn to Wanda blinking tears down your face, “I can do it I promise. Please, Wanda,”  your voice is full of emotion as you grip Wanda’s t-shirt tight in your fists. You see the small stains of wet tears drop onto Wanda’s gray t-shirt. 

“Hey hey shh, it’s alright. Look at me,” Natasha says, kneeling in front of you. She lightly wraps her hands around your forearms. Applying the right amount of pressure with her fingertips.

“Breathe with me, ready?” She waits for you to nod, “deep breath in,” together, you both breathe in for approximately four seconds, “and out,” you both exhale for another four seconds. Repeating a few times, until your labored breathing calms. 

“Good girl,” you nod your head, feeling shame creep its way into your thoughts. Nat smiles at you, giving your knee a squeeze. 

“I’ll teach her,” Natasha says looking up at Wanda. Wanda nods, silently approving. You stare up at Wanda, and she notices instantly. She pulls you against her in an embrace that you weren’t exactly expecting. She smells warm, and you cling to her like your life depends on it.

“I’m so so sorry I made you cry. I only want what’s best for you, Detka, that’s all,” her embrace is so tight that you wonder from the pressure on your bruised chest. You sniffle and bury your head into her shoulder. Not caring about the pain. She was holding you, and that was all that mattered. Wanda felt like coming home after a long day. 

“I know. I just don’t want to let you down,” you mumble into her shoulder. You can feel the warmth of Wanda's body against yours. Days ago you would have melted into a puddle of mush if Wanda looked at you hard enough. Now here with Wanda and Natasha catching your tears, you felt like for the first time that you were right where you needed to be.  

“Every day you make me proud to know you, Y/N.” She whispers in your ear and you sigh in contentment.

“Alright no more tears, sweet girl. Let’s have something to eat. Yelena was so gracious to give us a box of good old fashioned Mac and cheese.” Wanda rolls her eyes and pulls out of your hug. A small smile on her face, and you wonder if she enjoyed this tender moment as much as you did. 

“How about a pizza?” Wanda says before pulling out her phone. She scrolls through her contacts and starts to call the local pizza shop. 

“Is cheese okay?” She whispers to you, and you nod your head with excitement. You were so hungry that you would’ve eaten the raw noodles from the Mac and cheese box if Natasha let you. The chances of Natasha allowing you to eat raw noodles were slim to none though.

“Garlic knots,” Natasha calls over to Wanda, before putting the leftover Mac and cheese into a Tupperware container. She places it in your nearly empty fridge. 

“Y/N, you have no food?” Nat eyes you from over the couch. You grin, and reply playfully, 

“I have coffee, and ramen noodles, whatever do you mean?” You bat your eyes at her, and she shakes her head chuckling.

“No wonder your skin and bones,” the red head mumbles to herself, before saying louder for you to hear, “After we eat I’m going to the store for you. Text me a list,” you comply, knowing that with the state of your ankle you wouldn’t be able to walk for a bit of time without the assistance of crutches. 

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The three of you eat pizza and garlic knots, and watch Kiki’s delivery service on your brand new flat screen television. Squished between Natasha and Wanda on the couch you feel completely at ease. You definitely could get used to living like this. After the movie ends you are half asleep, your head leaning on Wanda’s shoulder. Eyes still closed you hear Natasha’s voice,

“You stay with Y/N. I’m going to pick up her groceries. I’ve also got a drop with Bucky and Lena around 5 . The crew need me there today.” Natasha’s voice is husky and soft. 

“Please be careful Malaysh, come home to us in one piece,” 

“Of course,” You feel Natasha stand up. Your eyes are still closed feeling the warmth of her body missing. Soft lips press into the top of your head, and you try your best to not squirm from the excitement that courses its way through your body. Wanda hums in approval. Secretly you hope that they can’t hear your heart racing in your chest. Nat’s footsteps begin to retreat toward the front door of your apartment.

“Malaysh?” Wanda calls Natasha softly.

“Yes, love?” Natasha’s voice is fainter now. You can’t help but miss her already. Wanda’s voice sends a chill up your spine when she says,

“Tell Lena that if she hurts Y/N again, I will break every single one of her fingers.”

TAGLIST: Whitewidowsbite tbpandtswiftfan Marvelcnt Cherlenovix Blackwidow-3 Santana1437 Madelineleong Inluvwithfictionalwomen @hidden-treasures21

[tastesoftamriel]

What are your favorite egg-based meals?

Eggs! Whether they're from chickens, ducks, geese, quail, and more, there are many dishes around Tamriel that feature this simple ingredient.

Altmer

In Summerset, a popular starter dish is a savoury steamed seafood egg custard known as chawanmushi. Served either chilled or hot enough to melt your face, this little dish is packed with prawns and shellfish and mushrooms, and topped with a slice of chewy fishcake.

Argonians

Crocodile eggs are a delicacy in Black Marsh, and the local Saxhleel have many ways of preparing them. My personal favourite is a flavourful scrambled omelette with scallions and oysters, cooked until the oysters are juicy to the point of bursting and the eggs are fluffy yet crisp. Known as or luak, this omelette is served with a healthy serving of chili sauce.

Bosmer

While people tend to hyperfixate on the meat aspect of the Bosmeri diet, they forget that eggs are just as important a food source. Poached giant snake eggs with cream sauce and smoked salmon atop cricket bread are the perfect brunch delight, especially when paired with a bit of jagga-and-honey.

Bretons

If there's one race in Tamriel who's mastered the soufflé, it's the Bretons. Whether savoury or sweet and set aflame with liquor, you can't deny that this tricky dish is worth every delicious mouthful. I'm personally a big fan of (surprise) four-cheese soufflé, where the egg is whipped with a clever blend of local High Rock cheeses to enhance the stiffening and therefore prevent an immediate collapse upon leaving the oven.

Dunmer

You'll never guess what this Dunmeri dish involves. Kwama eggs? Volcanic ash? Yes. Whole kwama eggs are buried beneath a mixture of lime and ash, and left to ferment for a few weeks until they have achieved a jelly-like texture on the exterior, and a creamy yet firm yolk. The eggs are served sliced and chilled, with pickled ginger on the side. Also great atop savoury saltrice congee.

Imperials

Like their penchant for eating pecorino-stuffed dormice, this dish will have you wondering what's wrong with Imperials. Balut is simply a raw duck egg, containing the lovely surprise of a two week-old foetus. Crack open the egg and sip up the whites, then season that foetus with salt and a splash of vinegar and slurp it up whole. This is, to some, unimaginably cruel, but Imperials in the Blackwood region insist that it's good for the health, and that it's delicious. I'll take their word for it, as this is one of the very few dishes I can't bring myself to try.

Khajiit

If there's a quintessential dish native to southern Elsweyr, it's probably telur balado, or twice-cooked eggs with chili sauce. Eggs are first boiled, then briefly deep fried to give them a delightfully crisp exterior while maintaining a rich yolk. It's then slathered in a rather spicy tomato-based sauce, and served with steamed rice. Also rather nice with a pinch of moon sugar.

Nords

While eggs from just about every bird are commonly used in Nord cuisine, chicken's eggs are by far the most popular and easily accessible. A signature egg dish in Skyrim is a thick omelette studded with bacon, served with sliced spring onions and rye bread. Simple, delicious, and downright good (except for its traditional, apparently Atmoran name, flæskeæggekage).

Orcs

Not everyone enjoys chub loon eggs, but Wrothgarian Orcs can't get enough of their rich, slightly fishy flavour. One popular egg dish is a seafood soup with egg drops, horker meatballs, and mudcrab meat. The egg drops are formed by whisking beaten eggs into the boiling soup, allowing the tendrils to cook on contact. It's served with seaweed noodles and a dash of strong black vinegar.

Redguards

Seagull eggs are a popular ingredient in coastal Hammerfell, and also act as a control measure against too many seagulls. This has happened numerous times in Stros M'kai, where shakshouka hails from. This famous dish is comprised of seagull eggs poached in an iron skillet with a spicy, flavourful tomato sauce, onions, and charred peppers. Usually eaten at breakfast with flatbread to mop up the sauce.

[najia-cooks]

[ID: A plate full of thick noodles in a light sauce, topped with carrots, cabbage, scallions, red pickled ginger, and vegetarian beef. Second image is a close-up showing the texture of the beef. End ID]

焼きうどん / Yaki udon (Japanese fried noodles)

Yaki ("fried" or "grilled") udon combines thick, chewy udon with vegetables, seared meat, and a savory sauce. It's flavorful, filling, and, if you already have udon on hand, fast!

Udon have a place in 和食 (washoku; "Japanese food" or "harmonious food")—'traditional' Japanese food that predates the increased opening of Japan to foreign trade and influence in the Meiji period. Yaki udon, though, like curry udon and yakisoba, is a more recent entry into Japanese cuisine, and is associated with 洋食(yoshoku; Western-style food).

Udon may be purchased dried, frozen, or, if you have a local east Asian grocery store, fresh; or, you can make them yourself at home.

Recipe under the cut!

Patreon | Tip jar

A couple different types of sauce are commonly eaten with yaki udon; instructions to make each are given below.

Serves 2.

Ingredients:

For the dish:

2 servings (400g) fresh uncooked udon (180g dry; 500g frozen)

1 small yellow onion, thinly sliced

3 leaves green cabbage, cut into bite-sized pieces

2 inches (55g) carrot, julienned

3 scallions, cut into 2-inch (5cm) pieces

3 shiitake mushrooms, thinly sliced

1 Tbsp neutral oil

Ground black pepper, to taste

Benishoga (pickled red ginger), to garnish

Green "cannonball" cabbage (the kind most commonly sold in the U.S.) is the type usually used for yaki udon; if you choose to use napa cabbage, add it in a bit later in the cooking time than the rest of the vegetables.

For the meat:

1/4 cup (9g) heo lát chay or bò lát chay (optional)

1 cup hot water

1/2 tsp vegetarian 'beef' stock concentrate, or 'beef' pho seasoning

Heo lát chay (vegetarian pork slices) or bò lát chay (vegetarian beef slices) are Vietnamese meat replacements that can be found in the dried goods section of an Asian grocery store. They may also be labelled "vegetarian food," "vegetarian meat slice," or "vegan food." Pork belly is the most common meat used in yaki udon, but any meat or seafood substitute will work—or just omit the meat.

For the sauce:

Version 1:

1/4 cup usata sosu (ウスターソース), also often known as sosu (ソース)

1 tsp Japanese soy sauce, such as Kikkoman's

The linked recipe is for a from-scratch version of usata sosu, but you can also check my yakisoba recipe for a quick version.

Version 2:

Another common choice of sauce for yaki udon combines mentsuyu and soy sauce, instead of combining usata sosu and soy sauce (in the same proportion given above). If you don't have mentsuyu, you may substitute for it by combining:

2 Tbsp Japanese soy sauce

2 Tbsp sake

1 tsp mirin or granulated sugar

3/4 tsp kombu dashi powder, or powdered shiitake mushroom

Along with the 1 tsp soy sauce from above.

Instructions:

To cook the noodles:

1. Bring a large pot of unsalted water to a rolling boil. Shake excess starch off of the noodles and add them to the pot.

2. Cook, stirring occasionally with chopsticks or a pasta spoon, until the noodles are cooked through and no longer taste raw. This will take 10-13 minutes for fresh or dried noodles, and 13-15 minutes for frozen. If your frozen noodles are parboiled, they will only need to be blanched for 30 seconds to a minute: be sure to read the package instructions.

The noodles should be slippery and neither hard in the center (if dried) or mushy on the outside, but firm and "koshi" (こし or コシ; "with body," "al dente").

3. Drain and rinse with cold water to halt cooking and rinse off excess starch. Set aside.

For the meat:

1. Whisk stock concentrate into hot water until combined. Add heo or bò lát chay and allow to soak until rehydrated.

2. Simmer lát chay and stock in a small sauce pot until all the liquid has evaporated. Set aside.

For the dish:

1. Heat a large skillet or wok on medium-high for several minutes and then add oil. Sear lát chay, turning once, until browned on both sides.

2. Add sliced onion and continue to sauté, stirring occasionally, until translucent.

3. Add carrots, cabbage, mushrooms, and black pepper and stir to combine. Fry for a few minutes until vegetables are softened.

4. Add noodles and scallions and, using tongs or a spatula, stir to combine. Cook for a minute, until scallions are wilted.

5. Add sauce ingredients and stir. Cook for another few minutes, stirring occasionally, until the sauce has thickened slightly.

Top with more black pepper and benishoga and serve warm.

[dangerouscommiesubversive]

Made the most absolutely rotund little cookies this evening--brown sugar crinkles, from the King Arthur Cookie Companion--and put toffee bits in them and I think this is my new favorite recipe, they're spectacular. Right now they're still warm, so they're very soft and the toffee's quite sticky, but when they cool I can tell they're going to have a lovely chewy texture, and when the toffee firms back up there'll be a bit of a crunch in there, and I'm in love. I need to make another batch with mini M&Ms, I feel like that'd suit these nicely.

[limeade-l3sbian]

try persimmons, girl. they come in different textures, sone are like jelly, soft and gooey, others are firm and chewy. when they're ripe they are sweet and refreshing

I've got a bunch of different fruits to try now

[bluepoodle7]

#Kroger #HomeChef #KrogerHomeChefBreakfastFlatbreadPizza #FrozenPizzaReview

I tried the Kroger Home Chef Breakfast Flatbread Pizza and it was pretty good.

This pizza was convection ovened and later microwaved.

The flatbread was firm and soft in texture.

This breakfast flatbread pizza was airy and light while not heavy doughy tasting.

The cheddar cheese was melted and had a sharp cheddar cheese taste.

When I tasted this flatbread pizza I didn't taste any sauce but the melted cheddar cheese acted like a sauce.

The scrabbled eggs had a light eggy taste that wasn't seasoned but seems the sausage bits with the cheddar cheese and bacon bits helped seasoned the egg pieces.

The sausage was firm and chewy while also well seasoned.

The bacon bits were lightly smoky in taste and crunchy in texture.

This breakfast flatbread pizza was lightly salty.

I would eat this again.

Got at the Kroger refrigeration area with other pizza's, flatbread pizzas, and calzone.

[amazing-thailand]

🍍🍊🥭🇹🇭 Thailand is truly a land of fruits. Our tropical climes and rich soils produce all kinds of local delights. Here is a list of everything you need to know if you are into fruits straight from their sources. Plan your trip now. Go and savour! For more information, go to www.tourismthailand.org

Nan Golden Orange | ส้มสีทองน่าน Sweet green oranges, thin skin, sweeter than sour ส้มเขียวหวาน เปลือกบาง หวานอมเปรี้ยว Season: November - December ผลผลิต: พ.ย. - ธ.ค.

Lamphun Biaokhiao Longan | ลำไยเบี้ยวเขียวลำพูน Dry, crunchy, fragrant, and sweet flesh เนื้อแห้ง แน่น หอม หวาน Season: July - September ผลผลิต: ก.ค. - ก.ย.

Kamphaeng Phet Banana | กล้วยไข่กำแพงเพชร Sweet and firm flesh, thin skin รสหวาน เนื้อแน่น เปลือกบาง Season: Year-round ผลผลิต: ตลอดปี

Num Dok Mai Si Thong Phitsanulok Mango | มะม่วงน้ำดอกไม้สีทองพิษณุโลก Firm, smooth, sweet, and aromatic flesh เนื้อแน่นเนียน หวาน มีกลิ่นหอม Season: March - June ผลผลิต: มี.ค. - มิ.ย.

Phetchabun Sweet Tamarind | มะขามหวานเพชรบูรณ์ Thick and tender flesh, fragrant and sweet รสหนานุ่มเหนียว หวาน หอม Season: November - April ผลผลิต: พ.ย. - เม.ย.

Khao Khiriwong Mangosteen | มังคุดเขาคีรีวง จ.นครศรีธรรมราช Thick and juicy flesh, sour and sweet รสเปรี้ยวอมหวาน เนื้อหนานุ่ม ฉ่ำน้ำ Season: July - December ผลผลิต: ก.ค. - ธ.ค.

Trat Si Thong Pineapple | สับปะรดตราดสีทอง Golden yellow flesh, crunchy and sweet เนื้อสีเหลืองทอง ไม่ฉ่ำน้ำ รสหวาน Season: Year-round ผลผลิต: ตลอดปี

Kathon Hor Bangkrang | กระท้อนห่อบางกร่าง จ.นนทบุรี Fluffy, fragrant, and sweet flesh เนื้อแน่นฟู หวาน หอม Season: May - June ผลผลิต: พ.ค. - มิ.ย.

Rongrian Nasan Rambutan | เงาะโรงเรียนนาสาร จ.สุราษฎร์ธานี Thick, crunchy, and sweet flesh เนื้อหนา แห้ง หวาน กรอบล่อน Season: July - August ผลผลิต: ก.ค. - ส.ค.

Samut Songkhram Kom Lychee | ลิ้นจี่ค่อมสมุทรสงคราม Firm, fragrant, and sweet flesh เนื้อเต่ง รสหวาน มีกลิ่นหอม Season: April - May ผลผลิต: เม.ย. - พ.ค.

Banphaeo Aromatic Coconut | มะพร้าวน้ำหอมบ้านแพ้ว จ.สมุทรสาคร Tender and chewy flesh, juice aromatic like pandanus leaf เนื้อเหนียวนุ่ม น้ำมีรสหวาน กลิ่นคล้ายใบเตย Season: Year-round ผลผลิต: ตลอดปี

Mayongchid Nakhon Nayok | มะยงชิดนครนายก Large fruit with crunchy, sweet and sour flesh ผลใหญ่ เนื้อกรอบ รสหวานอมเปรี้ยว Season: January - March ผลผลิต: ม.ค. - มี.ค.

Banmai Sapodilla | ละมุดบ้านใหม่ จ.อยุธยา Thin skin, smooth, sweet, and crunchy flesh เปลือกบาง เนื้อละเอียด หวาน กรอบ Season: November - May ผลผลิต: พ.ย. - พ.ค.

Nom Ban Phon Jujube | พุทรานมบ้านโพน จ.กาฬสินธุ์ Sweet, crunchy, and juicy หวาน กรอบ ฉ่ำน้ำ Season: November - April ผลผลิต: พ.ย. - เม.ย.

Longkong Tanyougmat | ลองกองตันหยงมัส จ.นราธิวาส Clear, sweet and aromatic flesh, almost seedless เนื้อใส หอมหวาน เมล็ดน้อย Season: August - September ผลผลิต: ส.ค. - ก.ย.

Pakchong Khaoyai Sugar Apple | น้อยหน่าปากช่องเขาใหญ่ จ.นครราชสีมา Sweet and aromatic, small seeds รสหวาน หอมละมุน เมล็ดเล็ก Season: June - July ผลผลิต: มิ.ย. - ก.ค.

Phet Rose Apple | ชมพู่เพชร จ.เพชรบุรี Crunchy and sweet flesh เนื้อกรอบ รสหวาน Season: March - April ผลผลิต: มี.ค. - เม.ย.

Satun Champedak | จำปาดะสตูล Thick, sweet, and aromatic flesh เนื้อหนา รสหวานหอม Season: July - September ผลผลิต: ก.ค. - ก.ย.

Lava Durian Sisaket | ทุเรียนภูเขาไฟศรีสะเกษ Mon Thong, Chanee, Kan Yao - sweet with crunchy creamy texture พันธุ์หมอนทอง ชะนี ก้านยาว รสหวานมัน เนื้อเนียน แห้ง Season: May - June ผลผลิต: พ.ค. - มิ.ย.

#AmazingThailand #สุขทันทีที่เที่ยวไทย #YourStoriesNeverEnd

[cherryxblossxms]

The five basic textures of food are watery, firm, crunchy, chewy and creamy. What are your fav foods that would fit in these categories? :D

(considering this is my nsfw blog, i have to admit my thoughts went straight to the gutter with a few of those categories LOL but i shall answer actual foods)

Watery - Hmmmmm I suppose tofu would be watery? I love silken tofu in soup, very very good

Firm - I think my favorite is konnyaku/konjac jelly. It's commonly used in a soup called oden, it's mostly flavorless by itself and supposedly has no calories (or at least less than 10 calories) and is very firm. It's a fascinating food that I like to chew on

Crunchy - I love a good crunchy apple, such as the honeycrisp variety. And of course, chips, particularly Cheetos, are always a nice crunchy item.

Chewy - !!!! I love chewy foods, they're my favorite. Gummies, tapioca pearls, taffy or hi-chew candy, fresh bread. I do like pig skin too from braised pig ankles (called jokbal in Korea) as it has a chewy texture. And of course rice cake is the ultimate winner of chewy things, it tastes so good and is so satisfying to chew

Creamy - >///> ..... answering normally, I suppose mac and cheese is top of the list. Crab and corn chowder is also good, really most cream-based soups are yummy.