#and I reheat it in the frying pan

[an-aura-about-you]

Me 🤝 @quinton-reviews : Little Caesars Is Good Pizza Actually

[piegonn]

You might find that you relate to multiple levels, choose whatever you feel most accurately reflects your day to day cooking experience. I'm curious what everyone's experience is! I've gotten up to level 4 before but I'm more at a level 2 now.

Level 1: I don't use or have a full kitchen. Meals are prepared for me or I eat ready made food. I can reheat in the microwave.

Level 2: I use the kitchen sparingly. I will heat food in the microwave, on the stovetop, and/or in the oven. I am comfortable adding simple ingredients together for a meal (cereal and milk, granola, yogurt, and fruit). I can prepare simple things on the stovetop like instant ramen, instant mac, pasta or rice.

Level 3: I use the kitchen often. I am comfortable following simple recipes. I can prepare fruits and vegetables with a knife. I follow recipes with multiple steps (chop then pan-fry, boil then bake). My recipes often include multiple seasonings or sauces. I will handle raw meat like ground beef or turkey (if applicable)

Level 4: I use the kitchen everyday. I often use recipes with many steps or make meals with multiple side dishes. There are some dishes I don't use a recipe for, or I can make up simple recipes. I am comfortable handling most types of raw meat (think chicken breast, steak) and do so regularly (if applicable)

Level 5: I use the kitchen multiple times a day. I don't use written recipes very often. I can create dishes from whatever food is on hand. I make complex meals often. I can prepare any type of raw meat (full chicken or turkey, butchering your own food)

[today-i-am-thinking-about]

chicken wings

[venusbyline]

Oasis ࿐ྂ Kinktober. 01, oct.

— pairing: Spencer Reid x wife!reader

— type: smut, Kinktober (Criminal Minds Edition)

— kink: squirting + overstimulation

— summary: Spencer finds out another guy made you squirt in the past and it hits a nerve. You agree to try this with him, even after your husband's sudden childish behavior.

— word count: 4.3k

— tags/warnings: kinktober 1st day, female!reader, husband!Reid, squirting, overstimulation, arguing, mention of safeword (no use), fingering, oral sex (female receiving), curse words, light degradation, biting, body worship, no use of y/n. english is not my first language.

— tagging list: @thatredlipped-classic @magnoliatrees-world @ehedrick012110 @hotchsmutrecs @slutcakes00

— crossposting: AO3

Ever since Spencer had to stay away from Virginia for more than fifteen days solving an extremely urgent criminal case, you've been needy all the time. Your thoughts were in an ironical division between your concern for your husband's safety and well-being, but also the pure desperation and desire to be touched by him again as soon as he returned home.

And it didn't happen.

Unfortunately, Spencer arrived so tired the night before that he didn't even bother to reheat his dinner. After all, it wasn't your fault if he returned late and the lasagna was already cold. Spencer was never a husband who demanded you anything. Both of you cooked and took turns doing the other tasks... As any couple should do. Of course he never complained if you didn't make his lunch before work. It was the least a husband should do. And you two knew it.

So it was a big surprise when there were no welcome hugs and kisses, but just the rolling of his eyes when he noticed that you put his dish in the fridge due the lateness. A spoiled attitude coming from him, and you gave up the lecture because you supposed he was just exhausted and frustrated after the case he solved with the team.

However, that didn't last long. Spencer simply took his things to sleep in the guest room. That made you angry as hell. He couldn't be being such a petty brat over a damn cold dinner, right? Spencer wasn't like that.

It was only a few minutes before you followed Spencer into the other room, asking for an at least reasonable explanation for what was happening to him.

And your hope of ending the night of Spencer's return with a good sex was completely dashed due to the unexpected argument.

During the morning, you left the room still sleepy and grumpy by Spencer's behavior last night, but tried to focus on other things. You tried to distract yourself by making the breakfast, furrowed brow as you watched the eggs and bacon strips frying in the pan.

You turned the piece of meat to the other side when you realized that it was already a little fried, but you let out a sigh when you felt hands entwining around your waist, the recognition of the shaving lotion smell preventing you from screaming in fright.

"It smells great..." Spencer hummed with groggy voice from sleep, leaning over so he could be at your height and resting his chin on your shoulder. The compliment about the good scent he was also flowing almost escaped your lips, but you remained silent, ignoring his existence right there behind you. Even though you hated giving him the silent treatment, your pride was wounded and you needed to give him a taste of his own medicine. After all, he had been trying to ignore you all night, before the uncomfortable silence turned into a stupid fight.

Not getting any reaction made Spencer's heart to ache, and he sighed. "Honey, please... Talk to me. You know how much it hurts me not to talk to you."

You couldn't help but let out a mockery sound, without even looking at him back. "Seriously, Reid? Because I remember very well that you were planning to do exactly that shit last night."

Your accusation made Spencer let out a frustrated sigh, his hands letting go of your waist and taking a few steps away. For a moment, you thought he was angry too and going back to guest room or maybe the living room, but instead, you looked at him furiously as he turned off the flame of the stove.

"What the hell? I haven't finished cooking yet!" You exclaimed with a frown, not believing your husband's boldness.

"Yeah... I know." Spencer took a deep breath, looking at you with those puppy dog eyes. "You can finish later. I need to explain myself."

"Oh, so now you wanna explain yourself?" You scoffed. "Maybe if you had done that yesterday instead of treating me like trash or-"

Spencer cut you off, holding your shoulders gently but firmly enough to make you shut up and pay attention to what he needed to say.

"I'm so sorry, okay?" He began and one of your eyebrows rose in a nonverbal sarcasm sign. "I'm serious, honey. I was an asshole last night and-"

"Yes. You were." Your words came out colder than he was expecting and he swallowed the lump that formed in his throat. "You threw a lot of shit at me without me even knowing why we were fighting."

Spencer took another deep breath, trying to work up the courage to confess about what messed with his mind. He knew that nothing he said would justify his actions and that was making him anxious, his heart ached not only at the mere thought of you not forgiving his childish behavior, but also at the possibility of you keeping to avoid his touches and his attempts to talk.

Spencer let go of your shoulders, his hands coming down until they were intertwined with yours, even if your fingers were stiff at first.

"I was jealous..." The confession finally came in an embarrassed whisper.

A perplexity look appeared on your face. "Jealous? Of what?" You asked, trying to look him in the eyes, even though his face was tilted down, a few strands of hair hiding his flushed cheeks. When he didn't answer, you insisted, lightly touching his fingers that were still intertwined with yours. "Explain it to me, Spencie."

Your demand said by a less angry way made him whimper, needing to be honest. "Y-Yesterday, after the case, the team was at the BAU. JJ, Prentiss and Garcia were talking some personal stuff about their sex lives..." Spencer began. "I-I wasn't paying attention, logically, I swear. I was with Morgan and Hotch talking about random things, but my hearing accidentally picked up a certain topic of the talk between the girls and-"

"Spencie..." Your voice softer now that you noticed how he seemed embarrassed and stuttering like a little child, as well as he was also beating around the bush. "I know you're nervous, but you could try going straight to the point, please? I'm worried here too."

Spencer nodded, knowing you were right. "I accidentally heard JJ whispering to the girls that you already had a squirt." He murmured and it was your turn to get hot and rosy cheeks. You could imagine that JJ hadn't told your secret as a gossip, but rather to add some important information on the subject, but it still left you embarrassed. "But you never had a squirt with me..."

Your eyes widened with realization and you tried to work around the situation. "Baby..."

"Don't do that... Please. I know how it works, okay? I know that not every woman can squirt and I also know that those of you who can squirt don't necessarily do this often. I've also read that it's not always as pleasing for you as porn makes it seem-"

You cut him off. "So you also know that squirting doesn't always happen during a orgasm. It can also happen even without cumming. It's something individual for each woman, it's not like an exact rule."

Spencer huffed angrily. "I know, fuck. I know..." He grumbled, running a hand over his face. "I know how all this shit works. But it doesn't change anything."

"What doesn't change, Reid?" You exclaimed impatiently now.

"The fact that you hid this from me!" Spencer shouted and you immediately rolled your eyes. "Damn, don't you dare roll your eyes at me. You don't know how much hearing that behind my back hurt me."

"Retroactive jealousy? Really, Spencer? You know better than anyone this doesn't make any sense." You huffed, massaging your temples to avoid the huge urge to pick up that frying pan and hit your husband in the back of the head.

His jaw clenched when you mentioned that. "It's not... It's not just jealousy, much less the retroactive one." He was stubborn like a fucking child, the sight of Spencer crossing his arms to try to look more mature almost made you chuckle.

"Oh, I bet it is, and very immature too." The scoff escaped before you could think of something more gentle to say. "Fuck, Spencer. It's not like we share details about our past sex lives with each other. That would be really awkward and uncomfortable. I don't wanna know what you've done with other women in your past and I guess you don't wanna know what I've done in my past either."

Spencer kept his arms crossed, but his eyebrows shot up and his jaw clenched for the second time, a clear sign that he knew you were right, it was just hard to admit.

"Well, I really don't wanna hear about that old stuff, but this is important one..."

"Why on earth would this be important?"

"BECAUSE NOW I'M FEELING INSUFFICIENT!" Spencer uncrossing his arms as he looked at you with despair. "I feel like I'm not giving you enough pleasure! Now I feel like I've never given you a decent orgasm."

You felt your eyes widen again. It all still didn't make any sense, it was something completely irrational coming from Spencer. You knew that academically, Spencer was always a genius who knew about anything in the world, but when it was something regarding you or your relationship, he acted like any man, lost with most situations and also insecure at times.

"You're being ridiculous." You grumbled, trying to push past him before his hand closed around your wrist, keeping you firmly in place.

"I know. I know I'm being immature and irrational, but-"

"But what, Spencer? Jesus Christ, if you were trying to deal with jealousy, it would have been easier to have asked to fuck me last night or something."

His face flushed and he began to stutter, not knowing what to do other than let go of your arm.

After two minutes of awkward silence, Spencer tried to argue again. "That's not... That doesn't make sense. We can't solve our relationship problems by having sex..."

His hypocrisy made you roll your eyes. "Oh, sure. And fighting solved it?" You asked and he looked away, knowing you were right. Again. "Yesterday I was really desperate to have sex with you."

He lifted his head and looked at you, surprised. "You mean that?"

You laughed quietly due to the confusion in his face. "Yes, Spencie. You've been away from home for over a fortnight, do you really think I'm not fucking horny?"

Spencer stopped to think for a moment, scratching the back of his head and trying hard to find a solution to the stupid situation he created. "So can we... Can we try?"

You looked at him, thinking about denying it out of a tantrum, but you just sighed and then argued. "I don't know, Spencer... I'm not in the mood, but we can try just for learning purposes. More like a lesson than our real sex."

A guilt expression appeared on Spencer's face, along with a pang in his chest. The idea of you not even wanting to have real sex with him for now was torturous for him. He knew he had failed with you, being so immature to the point of making you lose your lust about the situation. But he could try to redeem himself. Even though it was a selfish thought at first, he was now determined to apologize properly.

"Yes... Yes, that sounds good..." He gave you a sad smile.

You lay down on the bed and put a pillow under your hip. Your pajamas were already thrown somewhere random on the floor, just like the pink cotton panties. You were ready to teach Spencer whatever he needed to learn.

There was no certainty that he would be able to make you squirt. You always had the best orgasms when Spencer was in charge of pleasuring you, but he was feeling less after the discovery that you had already squirted with the help of another man. A man who wasn't him.

Maybe hiding this fact from him hadn't been tbe wisest choice, even if you hadn't done it on purpose. You just didn't think that mentioning this situation or asking Spencer to try that would really be so important. Over the years, no man had given you half the pleasure that Spencer gave you on a daily basis, squirting or not.

"Well, let's do it." Your words came out emotionless as you parted your legs, giving him the perfect view of your still barely wet pussy.

"You're shaved..." Spencer frowned at your complete lack of pubic hair so suddenly. Or at least that's what he thought.

You rolled your eyes, impatience side by side with embarrassment, both eating you alive. "Like I said, I was desperate to fuck with you as soon as you got back from the case. So I decided to get a full wax beforehand."

At other times, Spencer would laugh hearing you confess so openly about your high desire for his body over the past few weeks. At other times, he would even tease you about needing a vibrator to help you achieve your release when he was away, even if you were more than capable of cumming with your own fingers.

But your hands didn't provide you the same ecstasy that Spencer's long thin fingers made you feel. And he knew it too.

You felt yourself holding your breath the moment Spencer took off his shirt to make himself more comfortable. As much as your pride told you to look away from his body, it was impossible for you to stop enjoying the view. Watching Spencer's bare skin was as addictive as the fresh water of an Oasis should be for thirsty people walking through deserts. And you couldn't lie... You were desperate to quench your thirst and taste him again after all that time away from each other.

Spencer knelt on the floor, carefully pulling your legs so that your lower body was closer to the edge of the bed, and automatically closer to his face.

"Are you okay, honey?" He asked with a cocky smile as he felt your thighs tingle as he touched them to adjust your position.

Hearing your husband's sarcastic smugness, you held back from punching him in the shoulder. "Yeah, I'm great." Your voice sounded angry and he chuckled softly, nodding his head and turning his attention to your center, which was finally starting to get wetter.

"I'm seeing..."

You ignored his mockery and looked at the ceiling, not wanting to exchange eye contact at that moment. Spencer's puppy eyes plus his mischievous smile were an almost fallen angel combination. Like a wolf in sheep's clothing or the Devil in disguise, just as Elvis Presley said in that song.

Spencer giggled as he ran his fingertips down your thighs, caressing your skin so gently that it felt like delightful torment. You fought to maintain an expression of indifference and boredom, but the goosebumps that passed through your body told him a different story.

Already knowing that not so soon you would give in and admit your lust, Spencer began to left kisses spread across the lower part of your thighs, enjoying the sound of your breathing becoming increasingly panting.

"What's the next step, professor? Your teaching method it's being too silent..." Spencer joked and you couldn't help but roll your eyes.

"Just... Just keep doing what you always do for now." You hummed with the last bit of patience you had left, grabbing the sheet to keep your hands out of Spencer's hair.

Another chuckle escaped Spencer's lips and he nodded, placing more soft kisses on your skin before moving closer to your pussy again, closing his eyes and inhaling the scent of your essence for a few seconds before leaving a quick delicate kiss on your bud. “F-fuck…” You squirmed slightly, your eyes widening at his unexpected action. "T-this is new..."

"I saw something like this while I was watching porn after our argument and I thought this might be good for you." Spencer confessed and you nodded with difficulty, a confirmation that the wished effect was occurring.

You looked at Spencer's cute face, but the eye contact lasted very little time, because as soon as Spencer's tongue began to tease your clit, your head arched back, more moans escaping as he held your legs firmly, not letting you give in to the normal human reaction of trying to deflect sudden pleasure. "Fuck... Why is this even better than usual?"

Spencer laughed again at the question you asked amidst the moaning session. He knew you were more touchy this time and he had an idea why. Probably due to the fact that both of you missed each other's bodies, as well as the fact that he was working hard as if it were actually a goal to be achieved, a prize to be won. But he wouldn't stop licking you to admit it. Deep down, he supposed that you were realizing that too.

"T-two fingers, Spencer! Put two fingers inside!" Your order left him a little disconcerted, since despite everything, he was used to putting in one finger at a time. As soon as he did what you demanded to him, he felt the walls of your pussy almost crushing his fingers, a desperate moan escaping your lips, fleshy and reddened from holding back the sounds that wanted to escape.

"Damn, honey... You're needy today." Spencer smirked, starting the movements more gently, wanting to enjoy the sight of you writhing around his fingers, begging for more. "You said it would just be a lesson, just a method to stop my stupid retroactive jealousy... But you're loving it, don't you?"

You just kept moaning. Even though the pleasure was obvious by the way your cheeks flushed and your hips rolled around Spencer's fingers. Pride prevented you from saying you were excited to make a mess on the sheets.

When Spencer interspersed the fingerfucking and his lips closing slightly around your clit, starting to suck gently, an immediate whimper left your lips. "F-fuck, do it again. Do it one more time, Spencie."

Spencer, the genius who learned too quickly, followed your commands like a good boy, sucking the swollen bud again, his fingers moving faster when he noticed how you eyes were rolling back in pleasure. It was a divine view. He could fuck you for hours, just as he could watch you cum for hours too.

He greedily licked away your first orgasm of the day, even though he knew it still wasn't enough. It still wasn't the goal you two were looking to achieve that morning. However, not only did Spencer never waste the opportunity to take in every drop of your sweet release, but he also knew that the first orgasm could make it easier to get closer to your potential squirt.

And to be honest, he might even be content with your normal orgasms, since you looked so beautiful when you came on his lips.

Your lungs burned for air as his breathing normalized, his heartbeat became faster and your vision readjusting to reality. When the white flashes disappeared, you look back at Spencer, who still has a cocky smile on his face, his fingers still working inside you.

"Honey, you're a very unfocused teacher." He mocked and the literal joke made you laugh, a weak, breathless sound, mixed with some sighs of pleasure that were impossible to you contain.

"Or maybe my dearest student's very diligent. Too much, actually." Your mockery made him laugh too. His lips moving closer to your intimacy again, but now focusing on nibbling the flesh of your thigh, speeding up his fingerfucking again. Even the smallest touch making you whimper, your pussy tightening from the overstimulation.

Spencer noticed this and bit your skin for the second time, now with a little more pressure, and you were sure you heard the neighbor from the next apartment knock on the wall to curse you for the sudden fucking loud moan in the middle of the morning. This only further increased Spencer's growing arousal and your need for more release. "Grumpy old woman." You mumbled about her, trying hard to hide the embarrassment that colored your cheeks.

"Oh, c'mon... Don't be shy, my dear wife." Spencer chuckled, licking your soft flesh before teasing your with his teeth again, but now just scraping them across your skin until he reached your core. You felt the moment when the central and lateral incisors brush against your clit. It was a soft act despite it taking a gasp from you due to the little pain. And then he did it again, returning to moving his fingers roughly.

When Spencer nibbled on your swollen clit, you almost screamed, but his free hand stopped you from moving away from him. “Relax, baby…” He purred, licking your sensitive pussy to redress for the pain he caused, his wet warm tongue matching perfectly with the bitter sting of his teeth returning to bit the same spot. It was so painful and hot...

“S-Spencie…” You whimpered as he blew on your slightly tortured clit. A rush of air so brief that you would barely feel it usually, but now, with your pussy burning in flames, the mere breeze of his sigh in that right spot made you shiver and squeeze his fingers tighter.

"It's okay, I'm feeling it, baby... I'm feeling your little pussy squeezing me. Are you gonna cum again? Will you be a good wife and wet my tongue with your cum?" Spencer practically growled, focusing back on fingering you, his fingers moving in and out of you at such a fast pace that the wet obscene noise joined your moans, filling the room like music to Spencer's ears.

The moment his tongue returned to licking your soaked folds, your body shook more than expected and you opened your mouth in a silent scream, your back writhing in Spencer's grip, arched and aching as the clear jets wetted your husband's face, a guttural groan escaping him as he opened his eyes to see you with your eyes closed and your legs shaking as he committed himself to drinking every drop from the fountain you provided.

Spencer didn't give you time to adjust to that non-routine orgasm. He took care of remaining with his head in the same position, between your thighs, licking your pussy as if it were the tastiest Oasis' water. Savoring the flavor, eyes closed as he concentrated on getting messy, not caring which part of his face he was rubbing against your warm cunt. Whether it was the lips, the nose, the chin... He rubbed every inch of his face, noticing how your moans became desperate again and you tried to push his head away, a mix of overstimulation and shyness.

Spencer always loved eating you out. However, nothing was like now. Nothing was like feeling eaten alive by a hungry lover, and at the same time so worshiped by him.

"J-Jesus... it's enough, Spencie. S-stop, please." You tried to push him away, enough to get a heavenly view of his face glistening due your juices, completely messed up and handsome like a angel.

But he looked up grinning like a devil. "Unless you want or need to say your safeword, then it's not enough and I'm not stopping now." He threatened, even though you two knew that the one word would stop him immediately.

Instead of answering him, you grabbed the back of Spencer's head closer to your already swollen pussy. He removed his fingers, focusing on letting you rub against his face. Every inch of the tip of his nose brushing against your folds was enough to make more pathetic whimpers come from you, plus a little liquid leaking out, now in light jets and low quantities.

You trembled, letting go of the back of his head and looking at him with your lip bleeding from biting so much. You wanted to say something, anything to say thank you, but Spencer had other plans. His fingers, still soaked from fucking your walls, began to return working on your clit. He smirked at your screams of pleasure, the tears streaming down your face... And he enjoyed every minute of all of this, exchanging his long fingers for his own palm, where the friction turned aggressiver, more painful, eliciting louder screams from you as he practically left your pussy raw, biting your thighs to create a mix of impressive actions whose only possible consequence was having you squirting into the palm of his hand, screaming like a whore. His little whore. Only his.

And when you did it, Spencer finally moved his arms away from your body. You sobbed, eyes closed and tears flowing. But he knew you were fine, especially when you let out a soft, weak and shy chuckle at just hearing the sound of him licking his own fingers so as not to waste any drop of your squirt.

"Was I better than your ex?" Spencer teased, pulling you to his chest, where he could caressing your hair and calm your tremors from all the orgasms he gave you.

Still with your eyes closed to try and calm down, you let out a scoff through your nose. He already understands how you feel, but that doesn't stop him from wanting you to say it, loud and clear. You nodded at his provocation and received a soft kiss on your forehead, while his hands snaked around your waist, getting closer to your tired and fragile body. "You're a very smart and diligent student." You managed to scoff and Spencer laughed, kissing your cheeks.

"Only because you're my favorite professor, honey."

Criminal Minds Edition - Masterlist

HOTD Edition - Masterlist

Venusbyline's Kinktober 2024 - Masterlist

[fuckingrecipes]

My biggest hangup with cooking vegetables with my dinners is that it’s impossible to purchase one portion of most veggies. Like, eating by myself, I’ll never need an *entire* sliced onion, or whatever number of veggies get bundled into one purchase, like a bag of green beans. How can I work around this so I’m not wasting money by using half a product and then letting the rest go bad?

2 things.

First: Do you have access to refrigeration?

If you have a fridge, you can put the green beans in the fridge to prolong their life.

If you have a fridge, you can cook enough food for 3-4 meals and then before sitting down to eat your portion of dinner, put the extra meals in an airtight-sealed storage container in the fridge so you can eat it for lunch tomorrow & dinner the next day.

Most cooked food is good for like, 4-5 days in the fridge. Having leftovers available means I don't have to cook tomorrow, I can just scoop some into a bowl, put the rest back, and reheat what's in my bowl using a microwave or stovetop pan.

If you don't have access to refrigeration, come back and we'll talk about options.

--

Second: "I’ll never need an entire sliced onion"

..... wwwwwwhaet? Hi, my name's bewilderment, nice to meet you. What on earth are you talking about?

Eating an entire onion is fine. You're allowed. Onions are tasty. You can also eat raw onion on salads, tacos, & various other shit.

I've never encountered a casual dinner recipe that could be ruined by cooking a whole onion instead of half of one.

You're allowed to eat a meal that's just a huge pile of cooked onions & green beans with spices on it. It's great. There are no food cops that will materialize at your door to stop you.

You're also allowed to eat just an entire can of green beans as a meal, or just a whole bag of carrots.

You're also allowed to cook your whole sliced onion, and use some of the cooked slices in tonight's meal, and store half of the cooked onion in the fridge to drop into a noodle dish tomorrow night.

You can also cut the onion in half, use half of it tonight, and half of it tomorrow. Leftover raw ingredients are also an option.

--

I guess I'm a little confused why you're holding on to produce and not eating it - or you're buying so much produce that you can't eat it all in 1 week.

Fresh produce should get priority when choosing what to eat. If there's fresh veggies & fruit available, every meal should include some.

Stir Frying uses a lot of fresh veggies all at once, so is a good option if you need to quickly use it up.

There's loads and loads and loads of vegetable-heavy recipes available online. Write down what ingredients you have a lot of and look for recipes that include them.

Making SOUP can also use basically ALL your remaining veggies, if they're reaching the end of their lifespan. Soup broth can be frozen for months.

You can also chop a bunch of veggies into itty bitty bits, dump the whole pile into pan with some oil, fry until they start to change color & soften, then dump in a can of diced tomatoes & a shitload of herbs and spices to make Sauce to use.

For the rest of the week, all you need to do is cook some noodles, meat, or hell - bigger chunks of vegetables!

--

If you have a hard time remembering when a vegetable might go bad, or keep forgetting you have a vegetable so it sits in the fridge till it rots - stick a whiteboard to your fridge, with a dry-erase marker.

Write the NAME of the veggies and the DATE you put them in, and the DATE you need to eat it before.

When figuring out what to cook check that list and pick 1-2 of the oldest veggies so you can use them up before they go bad.

--

If the problem is forgetting your veggies exist when they're out of sight in the bottom drawers of the fridge, then don't put them in there!

For a long time, I put most of my veggies in the little shelves on the fridge door, and put all my sauces in the bottom drawers, so I could immediately see all my produce every time I opened the fridge.

--

My advice boils down to:

Eat larger amounts of vegetables.

Eat vegetables with more meals.

Seek out recipes that use them, if you don't know what to do with what you've got.

Use refrigeration to prolong the life of both raw ingredients and leftovers.

Make and Eat Leftovers.

Keep track of your produce better so you know what's more likely to spoil soon & can eat it before the bacteria do.

[silverskye13]

Mind control tanguish?? (i was gunna offer time loop for the hell-raisers as another one, but ut canon is Basically a time loop aint it SO!! Make tanguish do something wild)

Helsknight hummed tunelessly under his breath as he cooked dinner, piling some chicken and mushrooms into a pan to fry. He didn't know when Tanguish would be home [every trip to Hermitcraft was a gamble, when it came to time] but he figured whenever the little pest came home, he would be hungry. Besides that, Helsknight was hungry, so he might as well do something about it. Worst case scenario, he would just reheat a plate for Tanguish on the furnace when he got here. Or threw away wasted food. The point was he was hungry, so it wasn't wasted time at least. He pulled some flour out from a cabinet, frowning down at it and wondering what his chances of making a decent gravy were.

[Gravy was the bane of cooking. It either turned out like wallpaper paste, or it turned out like soup. Rarely, when every god and saint turned their greatest blessings on Helsknight for a moment, and every star in every heaven aligned, and every angel and allay and fairy-dust creature held its breath and crossed it's fingers, he would make a passable gravy.]

Helsknight sighed, tossed a few spoonfuls of flour into a pan, and resigned to try his luck. He didn't feel very lucky today, but then again, any day he made gravy, he didn't feel lucky, even if it did taste good in the end.

"I should learn how to bake," he grumbled to himself, eyeing the little bag of flour dispassionately. Tanguish would certainly appreciate it, and it would be cheaper to make a batch of muffins from scratch, instead of buying them from a cart four times a week. Helsknight stirred his fledgling gravy absentmindedly, waiting for the flour to brown, and considering his chances of finding a half-decent cookbook the next time he went to the market. Behind him he heard a clatter of claws, the unmistakable noise of Tanguish stepping into hels. A soft breath of chill dampened the room like a breeze. Helsknight threw a glance over his shoulder.

"Hey, what's your opinion on homemade--?"

Instinct made Helsknight slam to the side as Tanguish propelled himself over the kitchen island, Helsknight's rondel dagger in his hand. The point dug itself into the wall over the stove at about chest-height, a very intentional, very lethal lunge. It missed him by a decent margin; Helsknight was quick, even when he was caught off-guard. That one look over his shoulder, and years of Colosseum training and instincts, had saved his life.

Anger, hot and baffled and electric, raced through Helsknight's chest. He backpedaled towards their little dining table as Tanguish yanked the dagger out of the wall. He needed distance, he needed room to move. [He needed a house that wasn't so saints-damned small.]

"Tanguish, what in hels--?!" Helsknight managed before Tanguish was lurching for him again, a sharp, quick, dagger-pointed shadow dappled in flickering stars. Helsknight snapped a hand out, trying to bat him aside, only for Tanguish to duck nimbly beneath his outstretched arm. The dagger stabbed in towards him again, and Helsknight barely twisted away in time.

"Tanguish! Stop!" Helsknight shouted, confusion and adrenaline crashing together in his chest, muddling up his instincts. His training, his impulse, his experience in the Colosseum, demanded he fight back. He was unarmed [why would he stay armed and armored in the safety of his own home, when he planned to stay in the rest of the day?] but that didn't mean he wasn't dangerous. He knew a few ways of disarming someone with his bare hands, and he knew how to punch, and kick, and break bones. But his louder, conscious mind screamed at him this is Tanguish! He can't break Tanguish.

Tanguish didn't give him long to be horrified by the thought. He was lunging again, arrow-quick, and this time when Helsknight jolted backwards the blade nicked his out-flung arm. He didn't know if he was proud, or if he regretted how sharp the blade was -- his training had come in handy.

[It was marvelous really, how deadly his little pest could be when he put his mind to it. Helsknight had always thought Tanguish learned more than he let on. He was simply too scared of causing harm to use it. But he wasn't scared of causing harm now. No, he seemed hels-bent on shredding Helsknight where he stood, and he didn't know why.]

"Could you at least tell me what the hels I did to bring this on?" Helsknight demanded, a grin writhing across his teeth. It was something he knew intimidated people, intimidated Tanguish. There was something about baring teeth while fighting that seemed dangerous. If Tanguish cared, it didn't show, and he didn't respond. He just crouched low and gazed back at him, eyes half-shut in something like concentration. It gave him the look of a sleepwalker, and Helsknight didn't like it. He was used to the wide, curious, cat-like gaze, glittering in dandelion yellow.

"Tanguish?" Helsknight breathed, taking advantage of the pause. "Look, I don't want to hurt you--"

Tanguish lunged again when he was mid-sentence, something that might have killed him, if he hadn't seen Martyn do it a thousand times. Even with that knowledge, he almost reacted too late, side-stepping and slamming a heavy palm into Tanguish's shoulder, tossing him off-balance. Helsknight let out a short breath through his nose when Tanguish regained his feet, undaunted.

"I'm not running away," Helsknight said witheringly, dashing for the door. He could feel Tanguish following like a wasp over his shoulder, more the impression of danger than a true knowledge of what he was doing. Helsknight ducked out the door and managed to yank it shut behind him before Tanguish could follow, and was treated to a heavy slam as Tanguish tried to follow. Helsknight held it shut for a second, trying to figure out -- trying to figure out anything.

[Would Tanguish try to break down the door? Surely he couldn't. Even as... weirdly determined as he was to harm Helsknight, that wasn't something he was strong enough to do, especially with Helsknight bracing the other side. But the house had windows. Would Tanguish care about glass? It would cut him to ribbons. He could seriously hurt himself if he -- why was he worried about Tanguish jumping through a window? If the little idiot wanted to deal with a face full of glass--]

Helsknight released the doorknob and stepped aside. He needed to get that knife away, pin him still, preferably without hurting him too badly. His guts gave an uncomfortable squirm.

[How bad is too bad? And why? Why was this happening? It wasn't just strange, it just wasn't Tanguish. He didn't have a dangerous bone in his body.]

The doorknob clicked. Helsknight pressed himself against the wall, hiding behind the door as it swung open. He just needed a few seconds. He was stronger -- that's all he needed. Tanguish stepped onto the street, and before he had the chance to look around, Helsknight lunged forward and wrapped his arms around him, pinning his arms to his sides. He lifted Tanguish off his feet, trying to keep the thrashing feet from kicking anything.

"Tanguish, I need you to--"

Tanguish's head snapped back suddenly, slamming into Helsknight's mouth and nose. He swore, and his grip loosened, and Tanguish's sharp elbow dug itself into his side hard enough wince away some of his breath. A clawed foot came down on his ankle, and then Tanguish was twisting, and Helsknight, whose only objective narrowed into [don't get stabbed you fucking idiot] drove a punch into Tanguish's sternum. Tanguish's breath left him in a whoosh, and he curled in on himself a little, some sense of self-preservation kicking in. But he didn't cry out in pain, and he didn't drop the knife.

A lancing, twisting feeling darted through Helsknight's guts. It was a feeling so unfamiliar it was nearly foreign, hard to place, and hesitant to name. Dread. Dread as Tanguish turned that sleepwalker's gaze on him again, re-positioned his dagger to continue fighting. His tail gave a contemplative lash, a cat figuring its best approach on a bird, and it had been a long, long time since Helsknight felt like prey. Dread made his mouth dry, closed his throat, blanked his already reeling thoughts.

[What should he do? What could he do?]

Helsknight took a hesitant step back. Tanguish's eyes narrowed, and glittered blue.

[Blue? Blue. A little ring of blue, like a clear, winter's morning, ringed his yellow iris. That hadn't always been there. He knew the color of Tanguish's eyes.]

"Tanguish, talk to me," Helsknight said, taking another hesitant step back. "What happened? Whatever it is, we can fix this. I promise."

Tanguish let out a slow breath, and the blue ring around his iris seemed to flicker, then flashed brighter. Helsknight swore again as Tanguish pounced. He caught Tanguish's wrist, and might have even considered breaking it, had Tanguish not twisted out of his grip in the second of hesitation he gave in to. Helsknight's perception narrowed to the point of the knife as he dodged it, sidestepped it, and then spun on his heel and ran.

Helsknight needed time to think, needed time to figure out what was, whatever was happening. And he was faster than Tanguish. Even if he couldn't fathom harming him, he would always be faster. And armor-less as he was, he felt unnaturally fleet, near to flying. He was down three blocks, into an alley, over a wall and two more blocks over before he stopped, panting, to check for pursuit.

"I'm not running away," he breathed again, to himself, to his Saint, to Tanguish. He wasn't. He just needed time. He just needed to pull himself together, to figure shit out, to stop shaking. To stop shaking? Helsknight looked down at his hands, at the tremor starting. He swallowed hard.

[Okay, he was a little freaked out. He was allowed to be a little freaked out. His best friend was trying to kill him, and he didn't know why, and apparently the veil between "Nice Normal Tanguish" and "Silent Death-Machine Tanguish" was unnervingly thin. And Helsknight wasn't used to someone trying to kill him assassination-style, through dogged pursuit and bloodless silence. He was used to arena fights, and occasional back-alley brawls, where things were loud and obvious and made fucking sense.]

"I'm going to kill him," Helsknight hissed, stealing down the alley as fast as he dared. He didn't know who he was going to kill. Whoever had done this, maybe. Certainly not Tanguish. He hadn't really tried, physically he thought he could, if he'd just commit. But he had no weapon, and his options for killing his best friend [one of a slim handful of people he would gladly die for] were all slow and grim and painful, and not something he would inflict on anyone willingly.

[He would just have to evade, and try to knock some sense into him? But head wounds were difficult. The margin between unconsciousness and death was illusive, and he was a knight for helssakes he didn't bludgeon people. He was so ill-equipped for something like this, it was staggering. But why would he be equipped for his best friend randomly trying to kill him?]

There was a sound. There must have been. The whisper of breathing. The slide of claws. The crackle of gathering frost. Something set Helsknight's hair prickling, the gooseflesh on his arms raised.

[The rooftops.]

Helsknight didn't have time to look up. Suddenly a weight fell on his shoulders, and he was slamming to the ground. Tanguish's hand dug claws into the back of his neck, his knees dug into his shoulders. Helsknight twisted his whole body as hard as he could, wrenching his elbow back to slam into Tanguish's side. He flipped over, throwing Tanguish off him for just a moment. He got an arm underneath himself, tried to scrabble backwards, boots digging into tiles. Tanguish lunged on top of him again, and Helsknight threw a hand between them. A noise escaped his throat as the knife slashed through the webbing between his thumb and his forefinger, but he managed to wrap his fist around the hilt.

Tanguish was on top of him, bearing his full weight down on the dagger, trying to drive it into his throat. Helsknight clenched his bleeding hand around it, while is other arm scrabbled at the cobblestones, and through the haze of half-panic finally found its way around one of Tanguish's wrists. They were too close. He couldn't make full use of his longer arms, his strength, his leverage, and while his feet scrabbled, Tanguish's long tail twisted out for balance, and he held firm.

There was a buzzing starting in the back of Helsknight's mind, a panic he wasn't used to. His hands shook. His hand was bleeding, and it had to be his hand, didn't it?

[Note to self, Tanguish had laughed once, Helsknight is weak to hand wounds.]

He couldn't pass out. Little sparks and stars crowded his peripheral vision, his awareness narrowed itself to the space between his hands, and the slickness of the dagger, and the tear in the webbing between his fingers, and how stupid that was. A Colosseum gladiator, a knight of Blood and Steel, laid low by a flesh wound.

"Tanguish, you don't want to do this," Helsknight grunted, his voice buried beneath the buzzing of panic and his heartbeat in his ears. "You don't want to hurt me."

Tanguish threw his shoulder forward, and the twist sent tearing pain through his hand, and his grip slipped dangerously. Every muscle in his body tightened in dread and desperation, and he screwed his eyes shut as he clenched his bloody fist tighter. An undignified wince of a noise squeezed its way out of his throat, but it was better than screaming.

"Okay! Maybe you want to hurt me. Fine." Helsknight grimaced. He could feel the blood from his hand dripping onto his neck. A dangerous foreshadowing of just where the blade was aimed. "Tell me why. Tell me anything."

He managed to crack an eye open, to blink away the blooming stars. He gripped the knife and a spinning world in his bloody hands, and clung to consciousness and life with equal fervor. And Tanguish watched him, impassive and cold, that little blue ring a persistent chain around his iris. It reminded Helsknight of something, something that made his stomach twist. It took a moment to place a coherent thought to the feelings, a long moment where he breathed and shook and bled, and Tanguish watched.

[Wels. The open sky blue of Wels's eyes. Ice dagger blue. He clawed at his memory for any way that made sense, and in his flailing finally remembered what Tanguish had said about those golden, inescapable commands. How far could they compel? Surely not this far. Surely--]

Helsknight swallowed hard.

[Right. He just needed to break the command. That was all. That was all.]

Helsknight reached into himself for any lie of calm, any ghost of reassurance. He tried to steady his voice. Tried to force command, and calm, and certainty into his words. Stilted and shaky, and hoarsely whispered, he half commanded, half pleaded.

"Tanguish, let go of the knife."

Above him, Tanguish blinked. The pressure on the knife didn't relent, nor did the blue ring around his iris.

"Please let go of the knife."

Tanguish's fist balled tighter, and as it did the knife twisted just barely. He felt the burning in his hand, and Helsknight lost his words behind pain that should have been insignificant, and stars and noise in his head.

"You're scaring me," Helsknight whimpered, and then managed more firmly. "You don't scare people. This isn't you. You don't want to do this to me."

He searched Tanguish's eyes again. Was that a flicker in the blue? He couldn't tell. He couldn't tell.

"Helssakes," he swore. His hand grasping Tanguish's wrist reached up to grab the back of Tanguish's head, fingers tangling in his hair. He wished he could force Tanguish to focus, to center that sleepwalker's stare on something other than his general direction. "If you're going to kill me, look at me."

Tanguish blinked again. There was a shimmer in his eyes, and Helsknight winced as a tear dropped onto his face. A grim smile worked its way onto his teeth. No, that blue ring hadn't flickered. Tanguish had simply started crying.

"You're not going to kill me." Helsknight whispered. He closed his eyes, and his voice was a prayer, and it was a command. "You're not going to kill me."

He couldn't tell how much of the shaking in his arm was from him, or from Tanguish. He couldn't tell if the pain in his hand was from pressure, or from the wound. But he knew this was hurting them both, and he needed it over with, one way or another.

"You're not going to kill me."

Helsknight had been killed by wounds to his neck before. The Colosseum was a terrible place to die sometimes. He told himself he could bear it. Told himself if the pain came, he would try to hide the terribleness of it. He wouldn't gasp, or scream, or any of the other horrible, dramatic thrashings a person could do when they bled. He would make himself small and silent. He would respawn, if he could, and he would find his way back here, and he would find a way to fix this. Helsknight released Tanguish, and, eyes closed, braced himself for whatever happened next.

He couldn't stop himself from flinching when a few more teardrops fell on his face. But the blade didn't come. Helsknight dared to crack an eye open.

"Tanguish?"

Tanguish moved, and Helsknight stiffened, only to relax again when the blade clattered to the ground beside them. Helsknight let out a breath he hadn't realized he was holding, and before Tanguish could scramble away from him, or devolve into a blubbering mess, or shake apart or fall under some new spell, or any of a thousand other things Tanguish could probably do, Helsknight wrapped his arms around Tanguish's neck and dragged him into a hug.

"Helsknight--"

"You idiot," Helsknight snapped, crushing Tanguish against his chest. He had the grace to drag them over to the side, so he couldn't bleed quite so much on both of them, but when Tanguish squirmed he held him tighter and refused to let him go. "Don't scare me like that again."

"H-helsknight I'm s-"

"You're sorry," Helsknight interrupted him, screwing his eyes shut, suddenly scared he was going to start crying too. From relief. From the ridiculousness of whatever had happened. From the closeness to disaster. From how angry he was that Tanguish felt the need to apologize. "Gods. I thought I'd lost you."

Tanguish had the audacity to laugh, a miserable hiccup of a noise that tangled itself in growing sobs, and muffled itself against Helsknight's chest. "You thought you lost me?"

"You were so quiet," Helsknight said, feeling dread lance through his stomach like a knife wound. "It's like you weren't even there."

"I was there," Tanguish whispered, his fists balled into Helsknight's shirt, like he could somehow cling closer. "I was there."

"Of course you were," Helsknight murmured back. "Of course you were."

[spacelazarwolf]

shakshuka - maghrebi

cookbook: jewish flavors of italy

total time from start to finish: 50 minutes

rating system

difficulty: 2 this recipe required chopped veggies and some sautéing, and it does require a couple of different timed steps (like watching the eggs to make sure they don’t overcook... oops...), but overall it wasn't difficult to make. the recipe did call for harissa, which i found (hechschered) at my local international market, or felfel u ciuma. you can make the harissa yourself, it just takes some extra time. i don't know if you can find the felfel u ciuma in any international markets.

rating: 5 absolutely fucking delicious. 100/10.

this particular recipe comes from the libyan jews of rome. there is a substantial population of libyan jews in rome because of the increasing levels of persecution faced by the jewish community in libya in the 20th century, culminating in violence and pogroms during and after the six day war, until around 6000 libyan jews were airlifted out of libya to rome by the italian navy in 1967. the refugees were forced to leave their homes, their businesses, and most of their possessions behind, but despite these hardships, libyan jews have become an integral part of the roman jewish community.

and i can’t mention libyan jews without mentioning david gerbi, a libyan jew who has spent years trying to restore synagogues and cemeteries in libya and hopes to eventually make libya safe enough for libyan jews to return. so far his attempts have been met with a lot of violent pushback, but b”h someday they will get their home back.

recipe:

shakshuka:

preparation: 15 minutes cooking: 50-55 minutes serves 2-4

ingredients:

3-4 tbsp extra virgin olive oil

3-4 garlic cloves, crushed

2 tsp ground cumin or caraway (i used cumin, which is most commonly used, but the author of the cookbook likes to use caraway)

1 tsp paprika

1 tsp felfel u ciuma or harissa

3 red, yellow, or orange peppers; stems, seeds, and white membranes removed, and flesh cut into 5mm (1/4 in)-thick strips

2 ripe vine tomatoes, diced, or 10 cherry tomatoes, halved (optional) (i used 2 cans of diced tomatoes)

500g (1lb 2oz/generous 2 cups) passata (an italian tomato puree, you can use pureed tomatoes but passata is a bit thicker)

1 tbsp finely chopped fresh italian parsley

4 eggs

sea salt and black pepper to taste

bread to serve

many middle eastern cuisines claim this dish as their own. libyan jews are no exception, and those who migrated to italy took it with them. shakshuka has become popular all around the world and today, many of rome's kosher restaurants have it on their menus, reflecting not just the city's large libyan jewish population but also the food of israel, where shakshuka is very well known.

put the oil, garlic, 1 tsp of cumin or caraway, paprika, and felfel u ciuma or harissa (i used harissa and added an extra tsp) in a large, non-stick frying pan, stir and cook over a low heat for 5 minutes. (before this, i sautéed some yellow onions)

add the peppers to the pan, stir, add a pinch each of salt and pepper and cook, covered, over a low to medium heat for about 15 minutes until the peppers start to soften.

add the tomatoes (if using) and toss for 5 minutes, then add the passata with a pinch each of salt and pepper and cook for another 20-25 minutes, covered, and stirring occasionally. remove the lid, add half the parsley, and the second tsp of cumin or caraway, stir and taste for seasoning. you can cook the eggs in the mixture straight away, or make the recipe up to this point and keep the sauce ready in the fridge for up to 3 days.

when you're ready to cook the eggs, make four dips in the sauce (reheating the sauce if you've made it ahead of time) with the back of a spoon and gently break an egg into each one. cover and simmer over a low to medium heat for 6-8 minutes until the egg whites are just set but the yolks are still runny (oops...)

sprinkle with the remaining parsley and, if you like, a little more cumin or caraway. serve hot, ideally with bread.

harissa (from saffron shores):

4 large red bell peppers or pimientos, seeded, deribbed, and cut into pieces

3 large cloves garlic, minced

1 tbsp ground coriander

1 tbsp caraway seeds, toasted and ground

1.5 to 2 tsp cayenne pepper

1 tsp salt

extra virgin olive oil as needed

in a meat grinder, food processor, or blender (you could probably also use mortar and pestle, it would just take longer), grind or puree the bell peppers or pimientos. strain, pressing on the solids with the back of a large spoon. you should have about 3/4 cup puree. stir in the garlic, spices, and salt. add oil for spoonability.

alternate harissa (also from saffron shores):

3 dried ancho chili peppers, soaked in hot water for 1 hour

3 garlic cloves, minced

2 tsp cumin seeds, toasted and ground

1 tsp caraway seeds, toasted and ground (optional)

1 tsp salt

cayenne pepper to taste

extra virgin olive oil for filming

drain the peppers. in a blender, combine the peppers, garlic, and seasonings, puree to a paste (could probably do in a mortar and pestle). pack in a hot sterilized jar and film the top with olive oil. seal and refrigerate for up to 6 weeks.

felfel u ciuma (from jewish flavors of italy):

6 garlic cloves, crushed

1/2 tsp chilli powder

1 tbsp paprika

1/2 tsp sea salt

juice of 1/2 lemon

1/2 tsp ground caraway (optional)

2 tbsp water

simply combine all ingredients in a small bowl and stir well to create a paste.

[lostloveletters]

One of Those Nights (Sonny Corleone x Reader)

Summary: You’re Sonny and Sandra’s go-to babysitter, and when Sandra’s out of town for the weekend, Sonny needs all the help he can get.

Note: College-aged female reader, but no other descriptors are used. I listened to Donna Summer while writing this lol. Anyway, my first Godfather reader-insert fic! Do not interact if you're under 18, a terf or radfem, or post thinspo/ED content.

Word count: 1.8k

Warnings: Implied age gap, power imbalance, cheating. Sexually explicit content involving unprotected sex and Sonny's canonically huge cock. A little bit of praise kink. Do not interact if you're under 18.

Your eyes fluttered open from your half-asleep stupor at the sound of the front door’s locks clicking. Sitting up on the couch, you quickly smoothed out your blouse and skirt. You just barely made it into the kitchen when Sonny got in.

“Sorry I’m back so late. I wanted to be home to put the kids to bed—“

You shook your head, smiling. “It’s fine, Mr. Corleone. Frank and the twins are already asleep. There’s some sausage with peppers and onions in the icebox if you haven’t eaten. I can heat it up quick on the stove for you.”

“Jesus, you’re already doin’ us a favor staying the weekend while Sandra’s outta town,” he said, shedding his tie and undoing the first few buttons of his shirt. “And how many times do I gotta tell you, you can call me Sonny.” He playfully pinched your cheek. “I’m not that old yet, am I?”

“No,” you giggled. “Sorry, Sonny.”

The kitchen's layout was almost second-nature to you at that point, having done plenty of cooking for Sonny and Sandra's sweet kids when you babysat them. You grabbed a frying pan, setting it on the stovetop and pouring in a few drops of olive oil before turning on the flame. By the time you got the plate you saved for Sonny out of the refrigerator, the oil was sizzling, and the scent of sweet peppers and onions filled the kitchen again when you’d scraped the contents of the plate into the pan. 

Sonny was quiet behind you, save for him tapping his freshly lit cigarette against the porcelain ashtray on the kitchen table. You knew the sound well. His gaze burned through your back to your rapidly beating heart as you became increasingly aware that you were alone with him, the man who you lusted after in quiet guilt, because he was married and you were his children’s babysitter, for Christsake. 

After a few minutes, the sausage with peppers and onions appeared thoroughly reheated, and you transferred the meal back onto the plate. You grabbed a nearby loaf of crusty bread, cutting a piece for him and placing it with the rest of the food.

“Thanks, sweetheart,” Sonny said, grabbing the plate from the counter.

“Anytime.”

You returned to the living room, tuning the radio to the station that was broadcasting Lights Out, a late night horror show that always sucked you in no matter how hard you tried to remind yourself it was only a radio story. At least it’d get your mind off of Sonny, out of the gutter–or into a different one at least. You sat on the couch, fidgeting with your hands as you let yourself get lost in the host’s voice as he told the latest tale of terror.

You nearly screamed when Sonny appeared in the living room with his plate of food and asked, “You listen to this garbage?”

“It usually scares me into staying awake.”

He snickered to himself, taking the spot on the couch next to you. “For what?”

“My roommates and I play it in the dorm during finals to keep us up when coffee doesn’t cut it.”

“How’s college goin’ anyway? Straight As, right?”

“I made the dean’s list last semester.”

He shook his head. “Smart and beautiful, whatever lucky guy ends up with you is gonna have his hands full.” He glanced at your chest, his eyes lingering on your breasts for a moment before going back to his food. “Your cooking might be a little better than San’s. Don’t tell her I said that.”

You smiled, keening at his compliment. “Your secret’s safe with me.”

“You didn’t have to stay up for me, you know.”

“I know, but I wanted to.”

“Why’s that?”

You faltered. “I just wanted to see you.”

He smiled, amused by your answer. “You’re sweet. Gonna give me a toothache if you keep that up.”

“Is that so bad?”

Sonny shook his head as he set his plate down on the coffee table. “‘Course not.” He got up to turn the radio off, the sound of his voice engulfing you in a warm haze, “Don’t get a chance to be alone with you enough.” He placed his hand on your knee when he sat back down, rubbing his thumb against your stocking-clad leg, the feeling frustratingly electric as the thin fabric was all that lay between the skin-on-skin contact you craved from him.

Your lips parted, trying to conjure up a response, but only managing a shaky breath and a weak nod of agreement. 

“We don’t gotta do anything you don’t wanna do, doll,” he whispered, his voice low.

“I want you, Sonny,” you assured him. 

He kissed you with a passion you swore only existed in movies, not the hesitant or sloppy handling you’d experienced from past boyfriends, but the certainty of a man who knew exactly what he wanted. Heat rushed over your skin at the confirmation that he wanted you, his hands on your body, sliding up your skirt as he grabbed your ass, pulling you closer to him so that you were practically straddling his lap. You steadied yourself on his biceps, giving them a squeeze, letting yourself feel him, acknowledge your desire for him that had been latent until then.

You moaned into his mouth, his tongue capturing the sound, claiming your expression of desire as his. And who else would it be for? You’d always found him handsome and charismatic, always were a bit too curious about what was behind each vaguely flirtatious comment or sly wink he’d send your way when no one else was looking. 

“Sonny, where–where should we–”

“We can do it out here, but you gotta be quiet. You can do that for me, right?”

You nodded eagerly.

Hunger glistened in his dark eyes as he smiled wolfishly. “Attagirl.”

A whimper escaped your lips at his praise, the way he made you feel naked with just his gaze. You unbuttoned your blouse, letting it slip from your arms and tossing it aside onto the floor. Sonny pulled you onto his lap, burying his face in the crook of your neck while he kneaded your breasts through your bra. Soon, that wasn’t enough, and he pulled them from the cups, his hands on your soft skin as he squeezed. His thumbs brushed over your nipples. You gasped. You wanted his hands on you like that all the time, had imagined–secretly hoped, even–that he’d do it one day while you were in the kitchen or in the narrow hallway to the bedrooms, that he’d grope you, kiss you, do something to make you stop feeling so crazy about him. In that moment you realized getting what you wished for only made you want him more.

His lips burned deliciously against your skin, and you groaned at the gentle bites he left on your neck and shoulders. You rocked your hips against his, feeling his hard cock straining through his pants, desperate for more friction against your pussy. 

“You feel that? You feel what you do to me?” he murmured against your tender skin.

“I need you,” you whined. “Please, Sonny.”

“Alright, doll. Lay back for me, alright?”

You did as he asked, shifting off of his lap to lie back on the couch. You watched intently, hungrily, as he unbuckled his belt, pulling his cock free from his pants, slowly pumping his length in his hand. You nearly choked. Sandra had made jokes about Sonny’s size before, ones that made your face heat up in embarrassment at her talking so crudely about him, but you’d always thought she was exaggerating. 

“Oh my god,” you breathed, silently wondering if he could even fit inside you, an almost morbid curiosity only further fueling your desire.

A tender concern spread across his face as he searched yours for any sign of hesitation. “You sure you’re alright with this?”

You nodded. “I’ve wanted you in a bad way for so long.”

“How bad?” he asked, his voice husky and low.

Your lips nearly touched his as you whispered your answer. “Shameful.”

He kissed you again, this time with an intensity that nearly knocked the wind out of you. His fingers dug into the waistband of your panties and stockings, pulling them down so you could kick them off, ending up with one leg hanging off of the couch, exposing your wet pussy for him. You buried your fingers into his hair, the kiss desperate and wanton, your mouth open for him in a soft gasp as his pushed his tip inside you. 

It wasn’t enough, the primal part of your brain screamed. You needed more. Digging your nails into his scalp, you lifted your hips, taking more of him in you.

“Don’t hold back, Sonny. I can take it,” you said.

He licked his lips, staring at you for a split second before determining you meant what you said. He filled you, your pussy clenching around his cock as he thrust into you, finding a rhythm that would’ve been painful if you weren’t already wet for him. 

“Y’know, I used to get off thinkin’ about this,” he grunted, “bending you over the kitchen counter or up against the bathroom door.”

“Sonny–I–”

“You know how long I’ve wanted you? Now I’ve got my pretty college girl coming apart for me.”

“Oh my god–fuck–Sonny–” Your heart was pounding in your ears, eyes struggling to stay open as his thrusts became deeper, more erratic. He was close, his cock twitching inside you, hitting that spot you’d only ever reached with your fingers before. No faking it, no having to do the heavy lifting yourself. 

He had to put his hand over your mouth when it hit you, white hot pleasure bursting in your brain, pulsing through your pussy as you grabbed at him, digging your fingers into his arms to ground yourself, feeling as though you’d lose control of your body otherwise. Your moans were muffled, incoherent nonsense as he fucked you through your climax to reach his. With another hard thrust, he came inside you. Overwhelmed by the sensation, your hips bucked and your pussy clenched hard around him, milking his cock as he came.

“Look at you, takin’ it all–fuck–” Sonny hissed out through gritted teeth, trying to maintain what little self-control he had as to not make too much noise. “So fuckin’ good for me–”

You whined at that, your overstimulated, fucked-out brain going into overdrive. You wanted to be good for him. You were good for him. 

You weren’t sure when it got so still, so quiet, but the only sound in the room was your and Sonny’s heavy breathing. He pulled out of you, your pussy feeling achingly empty. You looked at the ceiling, mildly aware of Sonny staring at you.

“How're you feeling? I didn’t hurt you, did I?” he asked.

“I’ll be lucky if I can walk tomorrow,” you said breathlessly. “But that was great. Really I–I don’t know what else to say.”

He caressed your cheek, bringing your attention back to him. “I’m gonna get you a towel, alright, sweetheart?”

You nodded, smiling a bit when he kissed your forehead before disappearing down the hall to the bathroom. And there were still two whole days left before Sandra got back. You smiled wider.

[copperbadge]

The third and final of the dishes that I cooked today, a few of these (reheated) will be the first of tomorrow's Festa Alla Cinque Cibi, the appetizer course. I make no claims to authentic Roman Jewish cooking in any of this, but these are perhaps the most hilariously well-sourced and yet non-authentic of the bunch: Burik Con Patata, from a recipe in Portico.

Traditionally these are boiled potato mixed with other savory ingredients, wrapped in a crepe-like pancake and pan fried. The recipe itself says that you can speed up the process by using egg roll wrappers instead of homemade crepes, and I love an egg roll, so I said, "That, I will do that." Also IDK if you guys are aware but there is a not-insignificant relationship between American Jews and American Chinese food around this time of year. :D

Anyway I figured if I was going full egg roll I'd make life easy and use instant mashed potatoes. I'm not sure what it says about me that I feel compelled to add that I did at least use like...the fancy instant mashed potatoes. In any case, I mixed them with sauteed mushrooms and caramelized onions, and it made a spectacular filling for a really delicious dish. Like, this might enter some kind of regular rotation for meals in cucina di copperbadge. Although I'm still working out the best wrapping technique. I'll get there.

Tomorrow I'll be frying an artichoke and slow-cooking a beef stracotto as the "salad" and "main" of my five-course feast. For the rest of today I'm going to put my feet up and watch AS Roma try to topple Juventus, cuddle some cats, do my daily Italian learning in Duolingo, and probably have a few more of these burik for dinner because sono molto molto delizioso.

[ID: Two images of burik con patata; I forgot to take any photos during the process. The first photo shows a number of small "packets" of fried egg roll wrapper, mottled with dark brown spots and crispy edges. The second shows one of the burik broken in half, showing the creamy interior of mashed potato, including some bits of onion and mushroom.]

[slavicafire]

My go-to for breakfast is gyros wraps. You fry some meat covered in the gyros spice that you can buy in most supermarkets. Then in the same pan without changing the oil you lightly brown a tortilla on both sides (careful to not let it become crispy). Then assemble. Aluminium foil or wrapping paper first. Seems like a waste but its reallg kindof a game changer. Then torilla. Then sauce( i usually just do ketchup and mayo but you can put jogurt olive oil ect) then fresh spinach (best bc the bags with it keep for a long while but you can do any leaf) then meat (you can swap it with chickpeas, i cant eat em but ive heard its good) then diced tomato and on top of tomato salt and pepper. And then some other veggies you like, raddish, avocado, ect. Takes about 25-30 minutes, you can pre-fry the meat and just reheat it that takes the time down even less. If you wrap it in two layers of wrapping you can take it on the go. I eat it like every day which is not great bc i like variety but its bc you get a lot of bang for your buck and its easy to make sure you have ingridents for it

it is one of my favourite quick dinner recipes, especially whenever I get my hands on discounted meat :-)

[your-local-baguette]

HEYYYY it’s me again with another amazing request😏 okay so this time it’s Marc Snuffi and reader okay so I was thinking Marc has been not coming home in time because he’s a coach and reader made food for him because she was excited because it was his birthday but he came late and reader fell asleep on the dinner table and when Marc came home he saw them and felt bad and guilty and he woke up the reader and she felt sad and marc got sad so he prepared a small dinner for both of them and celebrated his birthday and a kiss😏 (I’m really bad at endings you can change it cuz I don’t really like the end)

I see like no snuffy stuff apart from parental figure so im really happy you requested this. Im also having a kind of writer block so just at the right time lol. May our delusion unite. Im also horrible at cooking so more delusion to believe in

I feel like its gonna be a little short... Anyway enjoy!

To never let go...

A slight humming echoed through the apartment only to be heard by yourself. Your wooden spoon pushed the vegetables around in the frying pan. Fresh fried vegetables, along with some tagliatelle who were cooking in a pot next to you. You swiftly took out plates, dividing the vegetables portion unevenly, more for you beloved husband, he must be hungry after all that work. You also took out the noodles, sprinkling some cheese and sauce over both portions. A bit of salt resting on top of all vegetables pieces and a miso soup on the side. You brought the plate on the table, sitting in front of yours, tapping your nails excitedly against the hard wooden table. The clock ticked, seconds by seconds turned in minutes by minutes.

It had been fifteen minutes and your smile started fading, more tapping your nails in anxiety than excitement. He was usually home by now, you kept your hopes up and waited.

The minute needle on the clock had already did one and half turn, you gritted your teeth in anxiety. It was already eight pm, your eyes started to feel heavy, you layed your head next to your untouched plate. Soft music playing in the background, your mind drifting off to sleep, the second you felt yourself go, the door sound woke you up. You didn't even have the energy to get up, your body and mind too exhausted to do anything, you were wide awake but head layed in your arms and eyes closed. Quiet steps could be heard, like it was done on purpose" im awake love" you said raising your upper body, rubbing your eyes and stretching afterward. You walked toward him and opened your arms to which he welcomed himself." Hello" he said in one of the most gentle voice, you cupped his face, looking up at the man embracing your fragile body." Happy birthday. Let me reheat the mea-" he shushed you with his finger" don't bother, you're clearly exhausted, i'll make something" " bu-" " no bargains" you nodded, lower lip sticking out a bit. He smiled at you expression walking in the kitchen, you sat down and watched his back with a smile. A comfortable silence filling your shared apartment, well that was apart from the soft music in the background.

A plate was placed in front of you, a candle resting in front of it, the last and most important piece to finish this magnificent view, was your husband. Sitting calmly in front of you, face resting in his palm, other one placed over your hand. This was so intimate somehow, you both ate in a peaceful quietness, an intimate dinner, every word shared through your crossing gazes. Smile attached to the both of your lips, they closed like magnets, connecting in a swift but gentle motion. The instant felt like thousand of years, when parted only to be joined in one last peck. An intimated gesture that leaded in one of the sweetest moment.

The music of your first date, playing in the background, both of your bodies swaying around in a romantic dance. The exact same dance of the night of your wedding, both of you stuck in your own world, the other people just absent. Only thinking about one another...

The majestic ice white dress followed your steps, bodies pressed against one another, face inches part. Only eachother for eachother, a romantic slow playing in the background, other couples dancing around. But both of you in center of it all, the flowers decorating your freshly styled hair, lips joined in a kiss that ended and started something. The slow ended, your arms still didn't leave his neck while his still rested on your hips. Clapping could be heard has everyone was staring at you and Marc....

The music fell silent as you both stood in the middle of the living room, embracing eachother in a hope to never let go

To never let go...

[tricksterdraws]

Are you really couple cooking with wine if the bottle, the next bottle and half the box the wine came in isn't empty by the end of it, after only needing 150ml for the recipe? my piece for the @hprecipe-recfest. Thank you so much for hosting, this was so much fun to do :) Recipe is below the cut also featuring a live demonstration of me playing ship of Theseus with it

Tartiflette (For 6 people) the * marks stuff you can easily replace with something else see end of recipe for that

Recipe takes about: 50-60 minutes in total - 30-40 min in preparation, 20min in baking You'll need: 900g potatos (hard boiling) 400g bacon* 5 shalotts* 2 gloves of garlic salt and pepper 150ml wine (white, dry)* 1 Reblochon (400g-500g)* how to prepare: Wash the potatos and cook them without peeling them first until completely cooked (~20 minutes). While the potatos are on the stove, dice bacon, garlic and onions and fry all with a bit of oil on medium heat until everything is cooked. Once the potatos are finished peel them and slice them finely.* Preheat the oven to 200°C/390°F. Save yourself a headache later and oil the baking pan. For the next steps it helps if you know how salty your bacon is! Put half of the potato slices into the pan and salt and pepper it. Then put half of the onion, bacon, garlic mix down, salt and pepper that too. Repeat with the other halves, so you have 4 layers in total. Pour your wine over the layers and slice your cheese so it can cover the entire casserole while melting. Put it onto the middle level of your oven and bake for 20 minutes. Note: If you have leftovers you can just freeze them and reheat them in the oven. (personally wouldn't recommend microwave it gives the soft cheese a funny bytaste) Alteration suggestions: bacon: if you don't eat pork just use chicken or beef optimal would be an air dried one but really it's whatever, personally I use this recipe to use up kinda dry leftovers shallots: just use whatever onion is in season wine: also alcoholic: if you already have an open white wine honestly just use that one up if it's a dessert one just add a bit of vinegar if you want the tardness to be strong but otherwise you'll be fine non-alcoholic: use veggie stock with a bit of vinegar instead the recipe needs some sourness that'd otherwise come from the wine so I wouldn't recommend using only stock Reblochon: you need a camenbert-like soft cheese if you don't like spicy ones use a mild one, if you have leftovers use these If you have sensory issues or the potatos you have shouldn't be boiled in the skin just peel them before cooking honestly. You'll lose some of the earthy taste the recipe is going for but it's a pretty subplimental taste here.

[alaina-starling]

“I told you not to bother me. Didn’t I?”

~.Soft whispers in the dark.~

[Yang Jeongin x Fem!Reader]

summary: Jeongin’s been busy and doesn’t want to talk to you, he tries to ignore you but you’re just so goddamn persistent and annoying

genre: angst with comfort ♡ ۵

warning: swearing (watch your profanity), mentioned drunk jeongin, mentions of abusive ex, reader flinching, suggestive

note: sorry if there are triggers here, please tell me if there are more to add in the warnings. the praying session is just you screaming jesus basically, also hardly used Y/n here

Masterlist

The door to your apartment creaks open and you smile despite the sound of the old door. You turn around, abandoning the chicken you were frying on the pan to greet your boyfriend.

“You should get that fixed. It’s fucking annoying.” Jeongin scoffs, setting his bag down on the coffee table in the living room. He shrugs his shoes off, not bothering to put it where it belongs.

Your mood plummets, smile faltering. “Oh, alright I guess… I’ll have the food ready in a few minutes. Please prepare the plates.” You respond sadly, returning your attention to the chicken where you find that one is slightly burnt and for a moment you’re tempted to give that one to Jeongin.

You shake your head, what are you even thinking? He’s just tired.

Even though ten minutes have passed you don’t hear the clinking of plates being placed on the glass dining table.

“Baby? Are you preparing the-“ You get cut off by the tv turning on, then you hear the familiar voice of Sofia Vergara yelling at Stella.

You sigh, “Yeah babe, I’ll prepare it for you blah blah.”

~•~

A few days have passed since then and you still haven’t forgotten about it. That behavior becoming a daily for both of you.

You getting up early to make breakfast for both of you, leaving for work, coming home to the dishes you used for breakfast, a messy bed, and clothes scattered around the living room. You cleaning everything, making dinner and having to deal with your boyfriend who doesn’t want to talk to you, look at you, or be in the same room as you.

You feel him pulling away and it breaks your heart. He wasn’t always like this. No, he used to treat you to dinner, make fancy picnics, bring you to the beach. You used to have laugh filled conversations with your boyfriend, used to smile at his random flower deliveries to your work.

Now you can only reminisce. All those sweet moments lost in time like a speck of dust in the wind.

You frown, you’ll try to keep your relationship together and fix things tonight. You have to.

Tonight you make his favorite, even going as far as buying his favorite flowers in the flower shop near your complex to put in a vase so he can smell it while eating. You clean the whole apartment and spray his favorite cologne.

After you’re done you wait patiently, sitting on the couch while scrolling on your phone. You wait hours, which is weird as he usually gets home by 9. It’s way past 9, you’ve called at least 30 times and left a few text messages.

You’re worried, so worried you fall asleep on the couch with all the lights still on.

When you wake up it’s midnight, you see the door open silently and watch as he stumbles into the apartment with the help of two friends, who you know to be Felix and Seungmin.

“Sorry, Y/n noona.” Felix whispers, careful not to disturb your boyfriend. He sends an apologetic smile.

“Chan hyung was trying to get him home before 10 but he didn’t want to go, mumbling about how y-“ Seungmin explains before he gets cut off by Felix nudging him. Seungmin coughs, “Well goodnight noona, sorry for the sudden and late intrusion.”

As they say their goodbyes, after putting your boyfriend on his bed, Seungmin hands you Jeongin’s keys. “Thank you. Oh and take care while driving.” You bid farewell to the boys, shutting the door behind you.

“Well that’s great. I’ll have to reheat this in the morning, I love you too I.n.” You’re body goes on auto pilot as you put away food in containers and place it in the fridge.

You only come to when your hands hit the water, you’re washing the dishes and you don’t even know how you got there. You sigh, finishing up and going back to the couch. You won’t sleep in the same room as a drunk I.n, that’s just silly.

~•~

When morning finally comes you wake up to a shouting Jeongin, you find yourself sitting in the dining room and wonder what lead up to this moment.

“-my cologne was half full when I left yesterday, and when I come back it’s nearly empty?” He yells at you before turning around to leave for practice at the studio. “Are you having another man over who uses my things and just suddenly leaves?” His accusations hit you, slapping you wide awake despite him only murmuring the last part.

“What the actual fuck, Jeongin?” You mutter angrily, words fall on deaf ears though as he slams the door on his way out, the hinges starting to creak again.

The rest of the day you replay that argument, wondering if it’s really your fault. You did go overboard with spraying his cologne all over the apartment yesterday, but you would never cheat on him. That boy was is your first love.

You’re bothered the whole time at work, resulting in your manager, Na-yeon to dismiss you early. “Y/n, I hope you’re okay. I’m letting you go early, you need some rest.” She smiles at you and you return the gesture, although it’s not a very genuine one.

Back at your apartment you rest on your bed, the cushions feeling foreign since you’ve been sleeping on the couch since you and your boyfriend started fighting. When you plop your head down on the pillow you smell alcohol, you cringe, immediately putting new bed sheets and throwing the old ones in the washer.

The rest of the afternoon is spent waiting for your boyfriend to come home, you decide to just say sorry, maybe give him a little kiss, you haven’t touched him in what feels like years.

When the door creaks open you shoot up from the bed, exiting your shared room and immediately hugging him, “Baby, I’m sorry for using your cologne.” Your words are muffled, head on his chest.

“Don’t bother me,” he just shrugs you off and goes straight for his office.

You frown, knocking on the door before entering.

“I told you not to bother me. Didn’t I?” He says, not even looking at you.

You ignore what he said, going to kiss his head when he swivels around on his chair, the action making you stumble to the floor. “Darling-“

“Get the fuck out, Y/n! I don’t want to talk to you so get the fuck out of my face. I’m so tired, so sick of you annoying me with your presence. Get out, for fucks sake.” He shouts at you, your eyes meet and you can’t help but look away flinching.

You look a lot like my ex.

You retreat to your shared room, sobbing quietly when you get there.

You wonder why his eyes don’t hold love anymore, they only resemble those of your ex, he had the same look Jeongin had. The only difference was if your ex had that look, he was going to beat the shit out of you.

~•~

It’s dark outside when you wake to your alarm, you wonder why you even have a 4AM alarm. You shut it off, not bothering to look at the name.

It’s morning yet again, you find yourself (hating mornings) on the floor of your bedroom, and the events from last night come crashing back into your mind, spilling from your eyes. You sniffle.

You come out of the room, trying to be as quiet as possible only to see the apartment empty, your boyfriend isn’t home. It’s a Sunday, where else could he be?

Before you can think about anything else the door opens again, you didn’t even notice the keys on the doorknob. He’s shocked to see you up already and he drops what he was holding to walk closer to you.

“I want to break up.” It slips from your mouth. You look away, not wanting to see the reaction on his face, afraid it’ll be one of relief and joy.

You hear him choke on his words, is he, crying…?

“Baby no, no, no. I’m sorry. I’m so- sorry it’s all my fault.” He stutters through sobs, you feel his arms wrap around your waist but you slap it away.

He falls to the ground. On his knees crying, he looks pretty. “I’m not repeating myself, Yang Jeongin.”

His eyes shift to your hands, he reaches for it but you avoid him. Your boyfriend ex shuffles closer to you, lifting his head to look at your face. He finds your cheeks red, eyes a bit puffy from crying, and your lips pursed.

“Please take me back. Please give me another chance I’ll be better.” He starts begging. “Not on our anniversary please.”

You’re stunned, anniversary? That’s not today… your eyes shift to the calendar to see a heart shape on the date. It is. So that’s why you had an alarm.

Your gaze fall on the things he was carrying earlier, but it’s no use as you can’t quite make it out in the dark.

“-sorry for all the the things I’ve said, I know I can’t take that back. But you aren’t annoying at all, you don’t bother me, I do love you. I’m sorry, sorry. Please, Y/n just, give me one last chance. Let me make things right.” You finally let him touch you and his eyes sparkle, you pull him up. Hugging him.

He hugs back quickly, afraid you’ll change your mind, his arms around your waist squeezing a bit hard but you find it comforting.

“Baby, I’m so sorry. For being such an asshole. I- I never want to leave your side.” He babbles, peppering your forehead with kisses. “Were you, were you really going to break up with me?” He reluctantly asks and you can hear his heartbeat. He’s nervous, afraid you’ll leave him.

You nod meekly and he inhales sharply. “I’m sorry. For pushing you away, I’ll make things right okay-“

You don’t let him finish. You just cup his cheeks and bring him down to kiss him. He squeaks, cheeks reddening, the blush going to his ears.

“I thought I was the problem, Innie.” You whisper before kissing him again.

“No you’re never the problem. I was the dick.” He whispers back, pushing you against the wall gently. He leans down, biting your lower lip then licking your jaw, sucking on your neck and slowly going down to your chest until you stop him.

“Maybe later, right now I just want my sweet baby back.” You murmur, shyly covering your face as you nuzzle into his chest.

He smiles, “so you take me back.” I.n says a bit teary eyed.

You nod again, “yes.”

He sighs in relief, letting you go and rushing to the things he left on the floor. “Just give me 10 minutes okay, I have something for you.” He excitedly arranges things on the dining room table, humming the song he was singing when you first met each other at a college library.

“Alright close your eyes, baby girl.” He goes behind you to cover you eyes and lead you to the table. “I love you so much, happy 2nd anniversary my love.” His voice is soft, he’s whispering it to you like you’re his whole world and it sends shivers down your spine.

When he lets you open your eyes you can’t help but smile, starting to cry again when he worriedly holds you, asking why’s and reassuring you.

“I love you so much, Yang Jeongin. Never push me away again.” You mumble.

“I promise. I love you more, L/n Y/n.” He replies, you hear the sincerity in his voice, it makes you giddy.

“No, Yang Y/n.” You whisper but he catches it, you two blush as if you haven’t been together for two years.

“Hm, I like that.”

“Yeah. You do? How about we take ‘later’ now.” You suggest, grinning into his neck before sucking and biting.

And for the first time in a long time, you ‘sleep’ in the bed with him. Leaving the things he’s prepared for after your ‘praying’ session.

Find all my works under #skzwife-02

[sreegs]

this started out as a short rant about non-stick cookware but i've got an infodump about cookware in general and suggestions for what's the most useful vs the least useful in the kitchen. the thing about cooking is you can do a lot with a little equipment, despite appearances to the contrary. however the vessels you cook in are the most used tools in the kitchen, aside from a chef's knife

ok, first my little rant about non-stick cookware:

it doesn't last, and that's the main flaw of non-stick cookware. whether it has a non-stick coating or it's a special material that is inherently non-stick (at first), eventually they wear down and the non-stick benefits you bought the pan for pretty much disappear.

that isn't to say non-stick cookware is not useful. I have one non-stick frying pan in my kitchen and I use it to cook eggs and other things that are notorious for sticking. i also use it to reheat leftovers just because it's easier to clean. that's all i use it for

so, if you're in the market for cookware because you're moving out or just finally getting a kitchen of your own, do not go buying all non-stick pots and pans. sauce pans, skillets, stock pots (the big pots you use for soup), sauté pans, etc, those actually need your food to stick in some cases, especially for soups and sauces. why's that?

it's about the fond. example: when you're making a soup you usually start by sautéing solid ingredients in the pan first. those get browned and they leave a bit of slightly-burned foodstuff on the bottom of the pot. that's called fond. it's super concentrated savory flavor. right before you add the stock to the soup, you "deglaze" the pan by adding a little bit of liquid to the bottom of the pot and gently scraping it off and integrating it into the soup. fond is also like the basis of all sauces and stews and gravies pretty much anything else you're cooking

where should you buy cookware? obviously you can always buy new, I suggest buying direct from the manufacturer if you really want new. you can also find good cookware at garage sales.

if you have access to them, restaurant supply stores have cheap cookware but it's also made to be beat to death in a commercial kitchen. it works just as well as the stuff aimed at the consumer because, well, metal pans are metal pans. it's not rocket science. but there is cheap bad cookware in the restaurant supply store so shop carefully

so what kind of cookware should you buy? here are options i recommend, but not in any particular order:

stainless steel

stainless steel pans are versatile and they last forever. they work on the stovetop and they go in the oven too. so not only can you use them to fry up some veggies, you can also use them to roast a beast in the oven. they're easy to keep clean, though they eventually get a patina especially on the bottom. use dish soap. the easiest way to get tough spots off them are gentle abrasives like Barkeeper's Friend. these range from cheap to expensive, and some of the expensive ones are worth it (but not too expensive. like $100-200 range for really nice ones. remember, they last forever, so it's like a one-time fee)

good stainless steel pans should be heavy. if you're out shopping for them, pick them up and compare how they feel. if you spot a really cheap one and it feels light like a non-stick pan, avoid it.

carbon steel

these got popular lately, and frankly i don't have too much experience with them since the one i had ended up being left behind in a move. however they're totally fine to work with and are easier to maintain than a cast iron pan. however they sometimes come with wooden handles (a lot of them are wok-shaped because, well, a lot of woks are carbon steel), so remember you can't put wooden-handle pans in the oven. also since they're thinner they're probably not as good for the oven as other materials in terms of both performance and longevity

taking care of them is a little harder than stainless steel, because after you wash and dry them, you have to coat them in a thin layer of oil to prevent rusting

cast iron

okay first i want to get the cleaning bit out the way: YOU CAN WASH YOUR CAST IRON PANS WITH DISH SOAP. that bullshit about only using salt and water and never getting soap on it is from an era when soaps were made of lye. MODERN DETERGENTS ARE NOT MADE OF LYE, THEY'RE NOT EVEN SOAP. HOWEVER: DO NOT SCRUB YOUR CAST IRON WITH METAL SCRUB SPONGES

now about cast iron itself: it's cheap and it's a long-term investment. your cast iron gradually becomes a non-stick pan over time if you maintain its seasoning. a cast iron pan becomes seasoned naturally over time as long as you wash it soon after it cools down from cooking (don't ever leave food or water in it, it will rust), and after it's clean, you cover it with an extremely thin layer of cooking oil.

you can re-season cast iron that has lost its seasoning too. i don't want to turn this post into a cast-iron infodump post so i'll leave it to you to google "how to season cast iron pans" and "how to maintain cast iron pans". just remember the "don't wash it with soap" line is bullshit unless you actually have dish soap that contains lye, like where'd you get that?

these are also great for cooking in the oven as well as the stovetop. their high-density and dark color make for good heat distribution. a lot of people swear by cast iron as the best material to sear meat with, however i never really noticed the difference between cast iron and stainless steel.

enameled cast iron

le creuset can sit on it and spin. don't buy their shit it's overpriced. enameled cast iron is much more affordable from companies like lodge who already make cheap, good, regular cast iron pans. it's a cast iron pan coated with ceramic. enameled cast iron is really good for even heat distribution, however you do have to be careful not to chip it. it may also, despite your best efforts, just wear down over time because ceramic isn't as wear-resistant as metal.

enameled pans can go in the oven as well.

non-stick pans

only buy one (1) non-stick pan. make it a frying pan or sauté pan. and do not spend a lot of money on it. like $40-50 tops. i've seen $100+ non-stick pans and i think someone made those as a joke. it's a grift. you will be replacing it on a semi-regular basis depending on how often you use it.

if your non-stick pan uses a coating, if it starts flaking it's time to get rid of it. those ceramic non-stick pans you just gotta toss it when they lose their smoothness

that's it. post over. go cook. if you have any questions send an ask

[ourrecipebook]

Zucchini Stir Fry with Tofu

Serving: 4

Ingredients

1 block tofu (firm or extra firm)

Avocado oil spray (or other cooking spray/oil)

1 small shallot, thinly sliced

4 cloves garlic, minced

4 cups zucchini, chopped into 1/2-inch half moons (approx. 2 medium-large zucchini)

3 cups carrots, peeled + chopped (about 4 regular carrots)

1 large bell pepper, cored + chopped (I used red)

Salt + pepper, to taste

Optional garnish: chopped green onion, chopped parsley, toasted sesame seeds

For the sauce:

2 Tbsp toasted sesame oil

3 Tbsp tamari or soy sauce

1/2 tsp ground ginger (or 1 tsp freshly grated)

1 Tbsp rice vinegar

2 tsp cornstarch (or other thickening starch)

Directions

Prep Tofu: Drain tofu and wrap with a paper towel. Gently squeeze to remove excess liquid, then place under something heavy (like a couple cookbooks) while you prep the veggies and sauce.

Mix cornstarch with 2 teaspoons of water in a small ramekin, until a slurry forms. Then, make the sauce by whisking all sauce ingredients (including the cornstarch slurry) in a small bowl. Set aside.

Unwrap tofu from paper towel and cut into cubes of desired size.

Heat cooking spray in a large pan over medium-high heat. When pan is hot, add tofu and season with salt + pepper. Cook for 5 minutes, undisturbed. Then flip each piece and cook for an additional 5 minutes, finishing with a quick toss of the pan at the end. Remove and set tofu aside in a clean bowl.

In the same pan, cook shallots and garlic for a couple minutes until lightly browned and fragrant.

Then, add chopped zucchini, carrots, and bell peppers to the pan. Cook for 10-12 minutes, stirring occasionally. TIP: you can add additional cooking oil or spray as needed here. Do not salt veggies yet, to prevent zucchini from getting soggy!

Once veggies are mostly cooked, add tofu back in along with sauce. Toss together and cook for an additional 3 minutes. The sauce should thicken slightly and coat everything.

Serve stir fry on its own or over some cooked grains or noodles (see notes for ideas). Add garnish as desired and season with additional salt + pepper, if needed. Enjoy hot!

Notes

SERVE WITH: 

This recipe is a great source of veggies, protein, and healthy fats and can be enjoyed on its own if desired. That said, I love serving it over a starch to round out the meal! Some ideas: • brown or white rice (as I’ve done in these pictures) • other whole grains, like quinoa, millet, or farro • your favourite noodles (I love these brown rice ones!)

RECIPE MODIFICATIONS & SWAPS:

Feel free to play around with the veggies here and use any that you like. I think this would go well with ones like broccoli, mushrooms, snap peas, eggplants, spinach, etc. It’s a great way to use up what’s in the fridge!

Instead of tofu, you could serve this with another protein. It would taste good with tempeh, shrimp, chicken, or beef! Just note that cooking times will vary, but you just need to cook the protein first and then add it into the veggies at the end 🙂

Shallot can be swapped with diced onion.

Ginger can be ground or fresh.

Cornstarch can be swapped for another thickening starch or flour, like arrowroot powder.

I love chopped green onions and sesame seeds for garnish, but you can leave these out. If you have some parsley in the fridge, you can add that in here too!

If you follow a gluten-free diet, ensure that you use a certified gluten-free version of tamari, rice vinegar, and cornstarch.

LEFTOVERS: 

Leftovers of this recipe will keep for 3-5 days in an airtight container in the fridge. You can reheat them in the microwave or on the stovetop.

(Source)

[legumepowered]

Chili oil fried eggs w/ rice, cabbage and zucchini

- Leftover rice and cabbage from last night, reheat in pan [I used too much oil 🕺]

- fry up zucchini [you can do this in the same pan, my partner just doesn't like squash]

- pour chili oil and avocado oil in a hot pan and crack eggs on top [be quick, the chili can burn very quickly] I use Lao Gan Ma. This is also good with scrambled eggs if you dislike the yolk like my partner.

- this is amazing w/ avocado, I just didn't have any