#and a sour pickle on the side

[binkyfishy]

My dream woman

[poltergeist-punk]

why do i miss a home that is unrecognizable to me now, how did i become a stranger to the place a grew up

[stitchwraith-stingers]

i cant explain it but i like it when ppl have perfectly opposite opinions, thats like having getting a pickle in your burger and i get to eat it

[maaikescookingblog]

Kimchi

`

Kimchi

source

Materials

Big mixing bowls, 2

Jars (sealable if possible) to keep the kimchi in while it ferments

Ingredients Cleaning the cabbage

Nappa cabbage ("Chinese kool"), 1

Salt, 0.5 cup or so

Water, 0.5 cup

Kimchi paste

Gochugaru (Korean pepper flakes), 6 tbsp

Hot water, 6 tbsp

Apple juice, 6 tbsp

Fish sauce, 3 tbsp

Sugar, 1.5 tbsp

Garlic (minced), 4 cloves

Scallion, 6

Carrots, 0.5 cup julliened

Method Cleaning and prepping

Cut the cabbage into quarters. To do this, make an incision at the core and then tear the cabbage into halves and then those halves into quarters. Cut out the core and throw it away.

Optionally cut the quarters in half lengthwise so you end up with 8 parts. Then cut the cabbage so the pieces are about 2cm long.

Wash it under cold water, then put in a big bowl.

Add the salt and optionally some extra water so the salt will distribute better. Mix the salt into the cabbage with your hands.

Let sit for 30mins

Kimchi paste

Cut the carrots julienne, if you didn't buy them from the store like that. Cut the scallion in 2cm pieces.

Add all the ingredients together and mix well.

Assembly

Rinse the cabbage under cold water 2-3 times, so all the salt is gone. On the last round, squeeze out all extra moisture so as little water as possible will be left behind.

Mix the cabbage with your kimchi paste. Store in a container outside the fridge for a couple of hours, then move it to the fridge

Notes

For 1 head of cabbage you can easily use the bigger mixing bowls. If you have 2 or more, then I'd reccommend a dishwashing bowl or something of that size.

Jars with a real rubber seal are the best, but any container that closes will do. During the fermentation proccess, air bubbles will form (like carbonated soda) and those need to go somewhere. Real rubber lets out that air while not letting air in, so the kimchi won't spoil. If you have a jar that closes airtight, just loosen the lid and then close it again every couple days. If you have jars that don't seal at all, just make sure you don't leave the kimchi outside of the fridge for too long and keep an eye out for spoiled kimchi.

For squeezing out excess liquid from the cabbage, you can just use your hands. If you don't want to get your hands wet or don't have a lot of strength in your hands, you can use a potato ricer.

[byzerodigital]

Pirandai Pickle (Thokku). Pickle or Rice mix made with Veld Grape, good source of calcium.

Perfect blend of sour and spicy in Vayalfoods' Pirandai Pickle, Made from the finest quality Adamant Creeper/Devil's Back Bone / Veldt Grape and a blend of spices. Our homemade pickle is perfect as a side dish or condiment.

[namism]

Request: Heyyy!

I saw that you were requesting some fics, I was wondering if you could do a Trafalagr Law fic where Y/n or You has a flavored lipgloss gloss (any flavor), you could take it any direction you want!

Thank you and have a nice holiday!! ❤️

citrus | trafalgar law

➳ categories: canonverse, gender neutral reader, established relationship

➳ warnings: slight nsfw (detailed kissing)

➳ word count: 1.1k

➳ summary: Law isn't a fan of your flavored lipsticks and glosses when he tastes the flavor of Japanese plums, but you think you just found an alternative.

➳ notes: thanks for the request! ❤️ law canonically doesn't like umeboshi (pickled japanese plums), but for the sake of the fic, i made him a fruit hater ☠️ happy holidays, everyone!

➳ cross-posted on ao3

Before you began dating Law, you didn't expect him to be the many things that he currently is to you. To start, Law presents himself differently in front of many people that his attitude in dealings pretty much boils down to who he's talking to. As once a stranger to his crew, you saw a side of Law that was meant for business, a side of him so serious and monotonous that over time, became bothersome to deal with.

Yet you persisted through his seemingly dull personality until one piece fit into the other and you decided to date.

A relationship so sweet yet so unexpected, you learned many things about Law that he never would have thought of telling you, things about him that he always kept secret, locked inside his heart or his thoughts. Things that he could only say to his closest friends, others only for the ears of his lover.

That is to say, before you began dating Law, you didn't expect him to be a kisser.

He kisses you all the time, but the depth and length of his kisses vary. On some days, he would peck your lips. On others, he would peck your cheek. On most days, he would take his time kissing your lips. He can't help it—he scored a goal by dating you, and it gives him the peace of mind that he's the only one who can kiss you the way he does.

As much as he loves kissing you, however, there is one thing that deters him from doing so on rare occasions.

Your lipgloss.

He can explain—he generally has no problem with you and your cosmetics, secretly even liking it when you kiss him on the cheek and your lipstick leaves a faint mark on his tan skin, but he does have a problem when he kisses your glossed lips and tastes the faint flavor of fruit, some of them which he likes, some not so much. You love wearing different pigments on your lips, different products and brands that make your face look much more colorful, more full, so you often rotate among your collection of lipsticks and glosses, each one surprising your boyfriend whenever you greet him with a sweet and colorful kiss.

Law loves that you feel beautiful in your own skin to wear all of the makeup that you do, but he has a great distaste for some of your lip products. The flavored ones, to be exact. He's not a big fan of fruit (ironic, he knows, since he's literally a doctor), so he freezes up whenever he kisses you and tastes the flavor on your lips. You always make sure to tease him whenever he does so, calling him a big baby for not liking the taste.

"Oh? What's with the long face?" You once picked on your boyfriend as his lips flattened into a tight line after a short kiss. Law usually smiled afterward.

"You taste like plum," he said. Your eyebrows furrowed.

"Sad about it, are we? You hate my lipgloss?"

"It reminds me of that pickled snack Bepo eats." He shrugged, a chill running down his spine upon remembering the taste of Bepo's strange snack. Umeboshi, Bepo called it. Law could never get past its sour and salty flavor.

From that day onward, you would dodge Law's kisses whenever you happen to be wearing the ume-flavored gloss on your lips, often choosing to send a flying kiss toward his way as an alternative. When you visit Sabaody Archipelago, however, an idea comes to mind.

With the Polar Tang docked somewhere in the outer groves, you bid them goodbye as you make your way to Grove 30 for the island's shopping mall, where you stumble upon a vast selection of cosmetics. Eyes shining brightly, you indulge yourself in retail therapy as you blow your money out on the finest products you could find. When you walk past a stall vending a particular item, you halt in your tracks and come running back.

A lady sits behind the stand, her features telling of her youthful age. She smiles as you point at the array of lipgloss on the table, and urges you to swatch them out on your hand.

"That one's flavored," she says matter-of-factly as you hold a yellow tube in one hand. You read the printed label. Lemon.

"Do you have anything else?" you ask.

"I've got a lot to show you!"

As the lady disappears under the stand to rack for the new line of glosses, a smirk forms on your lips, the pit of your stomach turning in excitement.

When you come back to the Polar Tang, your excitement is apparent to your crewmates who wonder where you've been. You provide them with a giggle in response before you skip happily to your Captain's quarters.

You knock on the door. Law grants you entry a few seconds later.

"Miss me?" you tease him as he steps aside to let you in. You drop your bags to the ground, while he crosses his arms over his chest.

"Where have you been?" he asks.

"Just went shopping, like I told you."

He shrugs. He doesn't think much of it, assuming that you just had a few hours of fun to yourself before you set sail again. His hands drop to the side when you approach him for a kiss, your hands gliding across his chest before encircling his neck.

Before you can kiss him, however, he stops you abruptly.

"I smell something," he notes. He sniffs the air and looks at you questioningly. "It smells good."

You bite down on your lip discreetly to keep yourself from laughing. "How does it smell?"

"Like citrus," he answers. "Is that... you?"

Standing on your tippy toes, you move your face closer to his.

"Find out for yourself."

Law leans into you when you successfully catch his lips, his eyebrows jumping upon tasting yours. He notes the citrus flavor that he detected just a few seconds ago and almost scoffs at your little ruse. Expecting him to pull away, you sigh in relief when he leans further down to deepen the kiss, his hands coming to rest on the small of your back.

Law tugs on your upper lip slowly, eliciting a moan from the back of your throat. He swipes his tongue on your lower lip to taste the flavor of lemon, and repeats it so often until you're losing your breath.

Pushing away, you gasp for air.

"So? Do you hate it?" you ask breathlessly.

"No, I'm into it," he mumbles, pulling you in closer. "Another one, please."

The pit of your stomach stirs in need as he holds you intimately close. You peck his lips and pull him to the other side of his quarters, laughing to yourself at the turn of events.

You guess you just found your default lip combo. Law liked it more than expected, after all.

[fanaticsnail]

Where's the pain, Reck?

Hey Doc Masterlist

Word Count: 700+

Synopsis: The navy-haired gunslinger was rushed into your clinic with major abdominal pain. You prepare for surgery.

Themes: Kid Pirates x gn!reader, platonic series, Reck, Jaguar, Quincy, Heat. Hints to surgery, friendship, body-functions, Heat has a distinct nose for articulation. You are 'Doc', the doctor of the Kid Pirates.

Notes: As soon as I saw @a-killer-obsession's ask in my inbox, I couldn't resist. I can't. Your poor friend 😭.

“Hey, Doc-!” the booming voice of a partially panicked Jaguar called out to you, “Clear your schedule for emergency surgery!”

Hastily knocked from your own little world by the intrusion to your office, you flung your magazine down and sprinted to your sink. Thoroughly rinsing and drying your hands, interlacing your fingers to stretch them for mobility, you quickly smacked on your medical latex over your digits.

While you enacted this small ritual, Jaguar placed Reck onto the medical cot with Quincy and Heat by his side. The navy-haired man was screaming, clutching his belly and face contorted in absolute agony.

“S’okay, Reck. We're seein’ Doc now. Get you sorted in a second,” Jaguar soothed his crewmate, gently caressing his forehead in a bid to ease his pain. You looked to Quincy and Heat, waiting for an explanation.

You looked to where Reck was clutching, empathetically clenching your teeth and sucking in a hiss through your tightly bound lips.

“Where's the pain, Reck?” you queried, elbowing Heat and Quincy out of the way gently to reach your patient. Reck could only let out a soft sob accompanied with a guttural shriek while convulsing on the medical cot.

“Jaguar, has Reck had any history of appendicitis in his family?”

“How the fuck would I know?” he shot back at you, his brow furrowed in puzzlement, “Half of the crew are war orphans, and the other half are bastards who only know one parent.”

“Fuck,” you shook your head, gently moving Reck's hand from his abdomen and seeking out the bulbous and inflamed organ you suspected was the reason for his harm. “Reck, work with me, hon. Just sit tight and we'll get to the source of-.”

With a final shriek, the pressure alleviated from his guts with a lengthy, deep, warbling ‘thrrrrrrrrrhp.’

Flatulence was the only sound to echo within your office, the room beginning to fill with the scent of an unholy concoction of a smell both wet and dry. The reverberations were enough to shake the medical cot, prompting Quincy, Jaguar, Heat, and yourself to recoil and choke back on your gags.

There was nothing truly comparable to the backwater boglands’ stench that fled from the rear of Reck, who’s face both expressed relief and horror to the events transpiring before an audience.

After what seemed like an eternity, Reck sheepishly clenched his jaw and cringed out a smile while tapping his stomach with his open palm.

“No need for surgery,” he laughed dryly, and without humor, “I feel much better.”

Glaring up at him, your expression darkened as you gestured for the door of your office to wordlessly relay your desires for him and the entourage that followed to leave. Reck jumped from the bay, clutching Jaguar by the elbow and ushering him along. Quincy followed not far behind, elbowing him in the ribs while he laughed at her playfulness.

Heat remained by your side, speechless with his jaw slack and nose curled back in disgust.

“Heat?” you called to the blue-haired man stunned beside you.

“I-... I can-...” he choked, bile rising in his flame propelling throat. “...I can fucking taste what he ate.”

“Heat,” you whined, reaching for the door to your bay and proceeding to open and close the door, in a bid to siphon the poor smell out from the bay and replace it with fresh air.

“It's like,” Heat rose his hands in the air in front of his chest, “It's fucking sour? Like he's been eating nothing but pickles and eggs for a week. That, mixed with the dried meat kept in barrels below deck-... Like, I know the smell.”

“Please,” you begged him, attempting to flee the thoughts of food from your mind to no avail.

“Like, you know when oats go rancid?” he continued, “Using salt-water to cook them in instead of milk, and using the milk you should've used with the oats, left out for a few days in the sun with a smoked ham hock in the same container-.”

“-Heat, stop. Please, you're gonna put me off,” you cry, your pleas turning to laughter the longer he used his nose to associate the flatulence, rolling over his palate and discussing the stench akin to a sommelier sampling a fine wine.

“You're not put off by that fucking smell already?” he chuckled, crossing his arms over his chest and leaning his hips back onto the medical bay, “You've got a stronger stomach than I do, Doc.”

"And you've got a great discernment for scents, Heat," you compliment him, gesturing to your door, "Now, please leave? That's enough excitement for the day."

"You got it, Doc."

Tag list: @mfreedomstuff @daydreamer-in-training @since-im-already-here @gingernut1314 @writingmysanity @i-am-vita @indydonuts @feral-artistry @the-light-of-star @empirenowmp3 @racfoam @sunflowersatori @carrotsunshine @skullfacedlady @jintaka-hane @thenotsofantasticlifestory @nerium-lil @sinning-23 @a-killer-obsession

I just didn't want to give away the butt of the joke (bad pun, bad pun, bad pun). I can't even. Thank you for this beautiful idea, and I really feel their pain, and I hope I did your ask justice.

[silverzoomies]

135 for Peter- I can’t- it genuinely sounds like something he would say🗣️

Peter Maximoff/Reader drabble: ⚡"I'll be honest: I get off on the thought of you."⚡ warnings: use of "truth serum," dirty confessions. also, i don't usually post unedited writing. apologies if this isn't up to par with my usual, polished work !!

Spending a venturous night sneaking around with your bestie, you followed behind him on your toes. Stealthily moving through the X-Men’s base of operations, you found yourself snooping in Beast’s lab. Your teammates all slept upstairs in the mansion. Which gave your mischievous pal all the time in the world to unleash hell. Peter had a bad case of sticky hands that night. He smuggled a few gadgets from Hank’s lab tables.

While he gave into his klepto compulsions, you busied yourself with a mini-fridge labeled "Samples. DO NOT TOUCH!"

You were a good little nugget. You knew you shouldn’t be so nosy. But part of you wanted to take the risk, just to impress your trouble-maker friend. Giggling quietly, you pulled the fridge open.

“Duuuude! Check this shit out!” You whispered.

Your curious eyes scanned the army of glass vials lined up neatly inside. Cool air fanned your face as you leaned in. Squinting, you read off the labels one by one, mumbling their names under your breath. Peter appeared by your side in a speedy blur. He peered over your shoulder. On impulse, he hastily snagged a vial or two without a second thought.

“Oh, dude, sick! Are these his nerd potions?” Peter snickered.

“I think so! Metamor-...Metamorphose Elixir? What the…” You tried to keep your laughs at a low volume, “Angel’s Essence. X-Celeration. Honeysuckle…” You scoffed as you picked through the fridge, “I don’t even know what half of these mean. What’d you get?” 

Absentmindedly, Peter paced the room. He moved backwards with effortless grace, reading the vials in his hands. The stolen gadgets stuffed in his jacket pockets made sharp noises as they rustled together.

“Uhhhh…Super Sonic Boom…pppffbbbttt…what even is that?? I told you, Hanky boy’s, like, nerd supreme.” Peter rolled his eyes affectionately, before reading off the next one, “And I got…OHHHHHOHOHO!” He raised his voice a little too much, and you quickly shushed him, “Sorry! Sorry! Just…check it out! Truth Serum!”

You skittered up to Peter, snatching the vial from his hand, “You really think it works??”

Peter wiggled his silver brows. His lips stretched in a cat-like grin. Totally aloof and super chill.

“Only one way to find out, ah?”

You popped the cork off the vial, giving the sample a sniff test. Neon liquid bubbled inside. It reeked strongly of pickle juice. The scent made you reluctant to try it first. But after an impromptu game of rock, paper, scissors - of which you ultimately lost - you braced yourself and took the tiniest swig.

“C’mon! That was nothing! Don’t be chicken shit!” Peter teased, tossing the other vial in his hand into the air, catching it before it fell to the floor.

You smacked your lips and hollowed your cheeks, feeling your eyes overflow with tears; all in immediate reaction to the serum’s sour flavor. Several seconds became a minute, as you stood there in silence. Over eager and irritable, Peter huffed. He rapidly tapped his foot. Before breaking the silence with a restless exclamation of-

“Well!? Did it work ‘er not?!”

You chuckled, gesturing with the vial.

“I hate it when you do that.”

Peter’s expression fell. He slumped his broad shoulders, catching the other vial just in time after tossing it again.

“Huh? When I do what?” He asked, giving you a defeated, puppy dog look.

“That. When you act so impatient? I can’t tell if it's super annoying, or ridiculously cute.” You spoke without filter, shifting your bashful gaze, “And…augh. Please stop looking at me like that. You really are so freaking cute it’s unbearable.”

“Wait...are you...” Peter’s lips curved upward in a cocky grin.

Covering your mouth with a hand, you felt your cheeks heat up in a flash.

“Did I…what the hell did I just say??”

“You really think I’m that cute, huh?” Peter sheepishly blushed. Pulling his lip between his teeth, he flitted his gaze to the vial in your hand, before meeting your shy eyes again. He threw you a nod of his head, “Lemme see that.”

Peter downed the entire vial in one shot, instantly shuddering as the tart taste oozed down his throat. He smacked his lips, scowling, looking at the vial with a single brow raised.

Not even two seconds passed before he openly admitted-

“I’ll be honest. I kinda get off on the thought of you, like, all the time.” He said on impulse, his dark gaze still fixed on the empty vial.

When he tilted his head up to meet your eyes again, you gaped at him with your peepers blown wide. Peter blushed an even brighter shade of scarlet. Laughing uneasily, he rubbed the back of his neck.

“Uhhhhh…heh…uh…wow…awkward.” Peter whistled, shaking his head, “I guess…safe to say…this shit most definitely works. Way to go, Beastie!”

“Do…” You hesitated, biting your tongue for a microsecond before you found the courage to continue, “Do you really think of me like that? Because…I mean…I'm kind of into you too.” You confessed without meaning to, "Or...no. I'm really into you."

With no filter to hold him back anymore, Peter's lips moved at an alarming speed. He began spouting an onslaught of filthy words. As he did, you felt hot, pulsing wires of tension pull between you both. Drawing each other in closer.

“You say that now. But if you knew how much I beat my meat thinkin’ about your body, you'd never wanna talk to me again. It happens like fifty times a week. I just can't help it, babe!” He shrugged, his face burning hotter and hotter with every loose word, “H'oh, man. I should shut up now. I should really shut up. Before I admit somethin’ else. Like how I can't stop starin’ at your ass when you're not looking.”

“What!?” You burst out laughing, hiding your blushing face with your hands.

He matched your laugh with his own, “Sorry. The pickle juice of truth's got me acting all kinds of loco right now.” Peter bit his lip again, stifling his next words before they slipped out anyway.

“Sometimes you get a feisty attitude with me and it really turns me on.” He added, "Ah...shit."

Basking in the thrill of this back and forth truth game, you parted your lips. Anxiously awaiting your own, inevitable disclosure.

“I've always wondered what your speedy tongue would feel like on my…” You sealed your mouth shut once more, groaning into your hands.

"YOOOO! No way! Seriously? You're twisted, baby. That's hot."

Carelessly discarding the vials, letting glass crash the floor without a moment's pause; Peter grabbed you by your waist and pulled you into him. You both searched each other's eyes frantically.

A devastating degree of mutual attraction had the two of you on edge. Peter waited for you to break the silence with another sexy confession. You did the same. Waiting. Anticipating his next words in hopes he might say something to further turn you on.

“I have a huge boner right now.” He fessed, biting his tongue to suppress his giggles.

You wheezed loud enough to shake the earth, surely waking up the whole mansion.

[miasmaghoul]

Limelight

Rating: E

Pairing: Aether/Dew

Summary: Aether and Dew see the ghovie (gone sexual). Contains handjobs, semi-public play, teasing, hand kink and quintessence fuckery.

(Also contains mentions of Rite Here Rite Now concert footage ONLY - no spoilers!)

"I feel ridiculous," Dew grumbles, tapping the toe of his boot against the dingy theater carpet. The lobby is bustling, filled with people of all ages in Ghost shirts, face paint and costumes. Dew tugs at his jacket, restless.

"Why?" Aether strokes the back of his hand with his thumb. "I thought you were excited to see the finished product?"

Dew mumbles something as they move up in line, eyeballing the concessions menu. Nearby, a pair of young girls giggle as they take a selfie with their creepy little plush Copias in front of the Rite Here Rite Now poster.

"Looks like you aren't the only one, either," Aether chuckles, elbowing Dew gently. The little ghoul rolls his eyes.

"Just...feels weird," Dew shrugs, grabbing a packet of Sour Patch Kids from the display stand. "Seeing it all...y'know." He gestures vaguely with their joined hands and Aether gives him a nod.

"You're gonna be on the big screen, baby boy," he says with a grin, looping an arm around his shoulders, and Dew frowns in a very stern sort of way.

"Get me these," he grumbles, tossing his candy onto the counter as they step up. "And a blue Icee. Large." Aether chuffs as he pulls out his wallet, rattling off things to the scrawny kid behind the till. "And nachos. With extra jalapeños."

Aether gives him a look.

"How much do you think the infirmary pays me, Dew?"

"Ugh, fine," he says with another exaggerated eye roll. "A medium Icee."

Aether pinches the tendon on the inside of his wrist and Dew kicks him in the shin. Aether shakes his head with a sigh, but he can't hide his smitten grin.

They gather up the pile of snacks - large Icee included - and make their way to the theater. It's a decent space, with reclining seats and extra chilly air conditioning. It's only about half full with five minutes til showtime, but Dew doesn't mind a smaller crowd. Their seats are great, in the back with empites on each side and in front, and Dew crosses his fingers that it stays that way. He sets down his things, shrugs off his jacket and lays it over it lap when he sits.

"How are you not cold?" Aether shivers, sitting on his hands. "It's frigid in here."

"You know I run hot," Dew shrugs, reclining his seat and crossing his ankles as he settles in. He grabs his box of nachos and scoops up a glob of impossibly yellow cheese and pickled jalapeño. "Plus, this way I can use it as a blanket if I want to."

Dew pops the chip into his mouth and demonstrates while he munches, crossing his legs and pulling the jacket up to cover his chest. He makes a tah-dah gesture and Aether smiles, leaning over to swipe a little smear of cheese from his bottom lip.

"Whatever works, I guess," he says, licking his thumb clean. He grimaces. "That tastes like spicy, salty plastic."

"I know, isn't it great?"

Dew uncovers himself and settles in again, stretching his legs and covering his lap. He takes a sip of his Icee and grabs the box again, tucking in while the theater lights start to dim. That same wiggly feeling he'd had in the lobby hits again and Dew sighs, fidgeting with the loose edge of a patch on his jacket.

"This really feels weird," he breathes, and Aether reaches over to hold his hand.

"Relax, Dew," he murmurs, lacing their fingers together. "You're gonna be just fine."

The last thing Dew sees before the lights go down is the glint of Aether's golden tooth, and he struggles to swallow the lump in his throat as the screen flickers to life.

The first time he appears, Aether audibly gasps, and Dew can't explain the way it males him feel. He shoves another chip in his mouth and decides not to think about it.

Twenty minutes and three bouts of brainfreeze later, though, his snacks are gone and Dew finds himself with no further distractions. Seeing himself - well, all of them really, but especially himself - up on that screen is doing things to his insides he can't quite explain. There's a certain level of queasiness in play, though who's to say how much of that is from watching himself play in stunning definition and how much is impending heartburn.

He squirms in his seat and tries very hard not to focus on the mistakes he catches. Tiny things he's sure no one else can see or hear - obviously, judging by the people dancing in their seats - but he sure can. He watches his fingers fly over the frets and wishes he had arched his back a little bit more in that shot. Stupid things he shouldn't give a shit about, and yet can't help but focus on. This is exactly what he was worried about when Aether suggested this outing.

Aether, on the other hand, seems to be struggling for other reasons entirely.

Dew can hear how heavy his breathing has gotten, can feel where his palm has gotten sweaty where their hands are joined. Not from the warmth of connection, but a clamminess that speaks of stress. Dew keeps looking at him from the corner of his eye, every time he hears a huff of breath or a sigh he's sure Aether thinks he's hiding, but the other ghoul's eyes remain locked on the screen. Dew's sure that if he were to lay his head on Aether's chest his heart would be racing. After one particularly harsh sigh Dew finally gives in. He focuses and reaches down the invisible link between their minds, nudging himself up against Aether's consciousness.

You okay, big guy?

Dew squeezes his hand and Aether visibly sags, shoulders slumping and legs falling apart in the reclined seat. Even in the dark, Dew can make out the bulge that movement reveals.

Oh, he slips into Aether's mind, not entirely on purpose, and the other ghoul lets out a quiet groan.

Look at you up there, Dew. Aether's reply carries rich warmth, the kind that soothes the nerves. The tone is worshipful, like Aether's borne witness to something spectacular. Fuck, just look at you.

The screen cuts to a close up of him as if on cue, fingers effortlessly gliding over his strings, and Dew's attention shifts to their joined hands. Aether's stroking his thumb over the most prominent vein on the back of his strumming hand, tracing it with effortless precision. A motion he's done a thousand times over, but one that feels so different with the starved way he's watching the screen.

He doesn't fight it when Aether pulls his hand into his lap, and his eyelids flutter when he feels just how hard Aether's gotten in his jeans. His own cock gives an interested twitch as he rubs at that sizable bulge, feeling it pulse against his palm. He doesn't say a word as he shrugs off Aether's grip, but he does roll his eyes when Aether whines into his head.

Two seconds, he says, scooting as close to Aether as he can in his seat. He pulls his jacket from his lap and lays it over Aether's instead, sneaking that clever hand back under to fondle him again. There, that's better.

Aether's mouth drops open when Dew gives him a squeeze, gripping his armrests so hard they creak. His eyes never leave the screen, though. Not even when Dew's elegant fingers start fiddling with his zipper. Not tugging it down, not yet, just dragging a nail over the teeth and loving the way it makes Aether flinch.

You're really worked up, aren't you?

He can't hide the twinge of surprise the thought carries, a curious inflection pushed into Aether's clearly distracted mind. He knows Aether loves to watch him play - always the one to tag along with him for midnight practice sessions and sunrise acoustic sets whenever sleep eludes him. And every time, no matter how many years pass, Dew would find Aether staring at his hands. Fixated on the control Dew prides himself on, focused on the way his skilled fingers danced over the neck and strummed out the most complex riffs with what looked like no effort at all. Aether would always rub his hands afterwards, massaging in just a hint of quintessence to help relieve hours of soreness.

Dew would reciprocate with a little rubbing of his own, of course. He's nothing if not a gentleman.

Still, though, seeing Aether fall apart so very rapidly over the sight of him on that screen comes as a surprise. He isn't one to show his cards like this, usually able to hold a straight face through damn near anything. Dew knows, he's seen it - Aether remains the only one unfazed by Aeon's puppy eyes, no matter how much the kid tries. That's proof enough of his stoicism.

And yet.

It's different. The words float into his mind, wobbly and unsure. Like Aether's really struggling to form coherent thoughts. It's...it's so much different like this.

They're the last words Aether manages before Dew feels the connection between their minds falter. He's pretty sure that's his own fault, given the way he's started massaging Aether through his ever tightening jeans, but it makes Dew chuckle under his breath. He refocuses on that link as he leans closer, until he can rest his head on Aether's bicep.

I'll take your word for it. Aether throbs against his palm and Dew groans low in his throat. Fuck, you're really hard aren't you?

"Shit," the other ghoul hisses, harsh, and a girl two rows down turns to glare at them. Aether shrinks a bit in his seat, and Dew is absolutely delighted.

None of that, he scolds, popping the button under his fingers. If you can't keep quiet, I'm not gonna be able to help you. Don't you want me to help you?

Dew tugs the zipper down and sees Aether bite his lip hard enough to draw blood when he reaches inside. It's damn near impossible to keep in his own pleasured groan when he finally gets a hand on Aether, finding him stone hard and hot to the touch. He pulls it out, hidden by the jacket, and Aether's head thuds against the back of his seat.

That's what I thought, Dew snickers, and that's all the warning Aether gets before that warm, bony hand starts to stroke.

Dew works him slow, with tight, twisting pulls that make Aether's thighs tremble in seconds. He nuzzles further into Aether's arm while the movie plays on, soaking in his rich cologne and the subtle scent of arousal. There's no urgency in the way he touches Aether, pausing every few downstrokes to get a hand on his balls too. To grope them, weigh them in his palm and really make Aether struggle to keep his eyes open. He manages, but Dew is certain that it's only because of the action on screen. He thumbs over the head and the other ghoul grunts out a curse in ghoulish, a guttural sound that sends a frission of something dark down Dew's spine.

He's too focused on the fine tremors shaking Aether's belly to notice the other ghoul's arm moving, and Dew jolts when a large hand lands heavy on the back of his neck, squeezing. His cock jumps where it sits already chubby and dribbling against his thigh, filling out that much more. He lets a wanton, breathy moan drift into Aether's mind and grins to himself when that hand gets even tighter.

His grin vanishes a second later, when Dew feels a familiar crackle against his skin. He gulps.

U-uh, Aeth -

A sudden rush of quintessence floods his system, pouring into his veins and curling around every last nerve ending. It's like an electric shock of pure pleasure, one that sets his skin on fire and makes his eyes cross, and as his dick pulses hard enough to hurt Dew has no hope of holding in his choked moan.

Thankfully Aether's arm catches most of it, but Dew can't even be bothered to see if anyone else noticed. His hand has gone still on Aether's throbbing cock, pre streaming over his fingers, and he sucks air through his teeth as an aftershock hits. He shudders, pulling back just enough to give his head a useless shake. Anything to clear some of the haze. He looks up at Aether again, and this time he finds the other ghoul staring right at him.

Finish what you started.

It slithers into his head, rough and rasping. Aether's thumb caresses the side of his neck, just shy of his thrumming pulse, and another spark of power shoots through him - one that makes his balls draw up. Dew groans deep in his chest and pushes his face into Aether's arm once more.

That's cheating, he complains, nothing but token protest. Aether's eyes shine even in the dark, sparkling lavender that holds such promise.

Do it and I promise I'll lick you out tonight, Aether rumbles, rocking up into that tight fist, and as the words sink into the folds of his brain Dew whimpers.

He really hopes Aether doesn't hear it.

He doesn't respond, and Aether's attention returns to the screen. His hand still sits on the back of Dew's neck though, holding firm, and Dew wastes no time in picking up where he left off. Aether's stomach visibly clenches when he pauses to rub at the frenulum, and the pulse of want that pounds through him when Aether's forced to bite his knuckles makes Dew's head spin.

He's long since lost track of the movie, occupied entirely with making sure Aether gets everything he needs out of his favorite pair of hands. He doesn't mind - he'll get the highlights later, once he can think with something besides his dick. For now, he dedicates himself to the task at (well, in, really) hand. It only takes a few more practiced twirls of the wrist for Aether's thighs to starts quivering again, and Dew knows he's about to get exactly what he wanted.

Aether curses again, a barely audible grunt, and as his own hands fill the screen once more Dew feels him go even harder.

That's it, he encourages, focusing on the head until Aether's legs go rigid. Let me have it, Aeth, give it all to me.

Aether suddenly turns, burying his face in Dew's hair to muffle his pained groan. Dew relishes every kick of his fat cock as it shoots all over the inside of his jacket, the last of the heavy spurts drooling down his shaft and coating Dew's fingers. The little ghoul works him through it, until he's left spent, sticky and breathless.

"Fuck, Dew," he whispers, barely audible over the pounding music.

Dew hums, pulling back his messy hand and licking it clean while Aether catches his breath. He's still very aware of the hand gripping his neck. It's something of a threat, truth be told - one more pulse of quintessence and he'll be toast. Aether may he able to cum quietly, but Dew? Dew can't keep his mouth shut when it comes to the magickal stuff and they both know it.

Later, if you want, he replies, sneaking his not entirely clean hand between his own legs. Aether's fixated on the screen again already, so he risks giving himself a grope. Rubs at his aching cock through too-tight denim just enough to take some of the edge off. He shivers as a blurt of pre squirts out onto his thigh, and has to stop himself from pushing any further.

He tucks his legs under him and leans into Aether's arm again. The hand on the back of his neck tightens, and for one horrifying moment Dew thinks Aether’s about to make him embarrass himself. Instead, though, Aether moves. Wraps that strong arm around his shoulders and holds him close, and in a lull between songs he leans down to plant a kiss on Dew's temple.

"Told you this would be fun," he murmurs, nosing at the place one of his horns should be. Dew can't help his pleased hum as he leans into it.

"Hate it when you're right," he mumbles, and Aether laughs louder than he probably should. The girl two rows down turns to shush him again and Aether offers her a sheepish wave of apology. They settle in together, leaning against one another while the movie plays on.

If they show you doing your Mummy Dust thing I'm gonna cum again, Aether sends down their link, and Dew doesn't have a name for the noise he makes.

[najia-cooks]

[ID: A circle of overlapping semi-circular bright pink pickles arranged on a plate, viewed from a low angle. End ID]

مخلل اللفت / Mukhallal al-lifit (Pickled turnips)

The word "مُخَلَّل" ("mukhallal") is derived from the verb "خَلَّلَ"‎ ("khallala"), meaning "to preserve in vinegar." "Lifit" (with diacritics, Levantine pronunciation: "لِفِتْ"), "turnip," comes from the root "ل ف ت‎", which produces words relating to being crooked, turning aside, and twisting (such as "لَفَتَ" "lafata," "to twist, to wring"). This root was being used to produce a word meaning "turnip" ("لِفْتْ" "lift") by the 1000s AD, perhaps because turnips must be twisted or wrung out of the ground.

Pickling as a method of preserving produce so that it can be eaten out of season is of ancient origin. In the modern-day Levant, pickles (called "طَرَاشِيّ‎" "ṭarāshiyy"; singular "طُرْشِيّ" "ṭurshiyy") make up an important culinary category: peppers, carrot, olives, eggplant, cucumber, cabbage, cauliflower, and lemons are preserved with vinegar or brine for later consumption.

Pickled turnips are perhaps the most commonly consumed pickles in the Levant. They are traditionally prepared during the turnip harvest in the winter; in the early spring, once they have finished their slow fermentation, they may be added to appetizer spreads, served as a side with breakfast, lunch, or dinner, eaten on their own as a snack, or used to add pungency to salads, sandwiches, and wraps (such as shawarma or falafel). Tarashiyy are especially popular among Muslim Palestinians during the holy month of رَمَضَان (Ramaḍān), when they are considered a must-have on the إِفْطَار ("ʔifṭār"; fast-breaking meal) table. Pickle vendors and factories will often hire additional workers in the time leading up to Ramadan in order to keep up with increased demand.

In its simplest instantiation, mukhallal al-lifit combines turnips, beetroot (for color), water, salt, and time: a process of anaerobic lacto-fermentation produces a deep transformation in flavor and a sour, earthy, tender-crisp pickle. Some recipes instead pickle the turnips in vinegar, which produces a sharp, acidic taste. A pink dye (صِبْغَة مُخَلَّل زَهْرِي‎; "ṣibgha mukhallal zahri") may be added to improve the color. Palestinian recipes in particular sometimes call for garlic and green chili peppers. This recipe is for a "slow pickle" made with brine: thick slices of turnip are fermented at room temperature for about three weeks to produce a tangy, slightly bitter pickle with astringency and zest reminiscent of horseradish.

Turnips are a widely cultivated crop in Palestine, but, though they make a very popular pickle, they are seldom consumed fresh. One Palestinian dish, mostly prepared in Hebron, that does not call for their fermentation is مُحَشّي لِفِتْ ("muḥashshi lifit")—turnips that are cored, fried, and stuffed with a filling made from ground meat, rice, tomato, and sumac or tamarind. In Nablus, tahina and lemon juice may be added to the meat and rice. A similar dish exists in Jordan.

Turnips produced in the West Bank are typically planted in open fields (as opposed to in or under structures such as plastic tunnels) in November and harvested in February, making them a fall/winter crop. Because most of them are irrigated (rather than rain-fed), their yield is severely limited by the Israeli military's siphoning off of water from Palestine's natural aquifers to settlers and their farms.

Israeli military order 92, issued on August 15th, 1967 (just two months after the order by which Israel had claimed full military, legislative, executive, and judicial control of the West Bank on June 7th), placed all authority over water resources in the hands of an Israeli official. Military order 158, issued on November 19th of the same year, declared that no one could establish, own, or administer any water extraction or processing construction (such as wells, water purification plants, or rainwater collecting cisterns) without a new permit. Water infrastructure could be searched for, confiscated, or destroyed at will of the Israeli military. This order de facto forbid Palestinians from owning or constructing any new water infrastructure, since anyone could be denied a permit without reason; to date, no West Bank Palestinian has ever been granted a permit to construct a well to collect water from an aquifer.

Nearly 30 years later, the Interim Agreement on the West Bank and the Gaza Strip (also called the Oslo II Accord or the Taba Agreement), signed by Israel and the Palestine Liberation Organization (PLO) in 1995, officially granted Israel the full control over water resources in occupied Palestine that it had earlier claimed. The Argreement divided the West Bank into regions of three types—A, B, and C—with Israel given control of Area C, and the Palestinian Authority (PA) supposedly having full administrative power over Area A (about 3% of the West Bank at the time).

In fact, per article 40 of Annex 3, the PA was only allowed to administer water distribution in Area A, so long as their water usage did not exceed what had been allocated to them in the 1993 Oslo Accord, a mere 15% of the total water supply: they had no administrative control over water resources, all of which were owned and administered by Israel. This interim agreement was to be returned to in permanent status negotiations which never occurred.

The cumulative effect of these resolutions is that Palestinians have no independent access to water: they are forbidden to collect water from underground aquifers, the Jordan River, freshwater springs, or rainfall. They are, by law and by design, fully reliant on Israel's grid, which distributes water very unevenly; a 2023 report estimated that Israeli settlers (in "Israel" and in the occupied West Bank) used 3 times as much water as Palestinians. Oslo II estimations of Palestinians' water needs were set at a static number of million cubic meters (mcm), rather than an amount of water per person, and this number has been adhered to despite subsequent growth in the Palestinian population.

Palestinians who are connected to the Israeli grid may open their taps only to find them dry (for as long as a month at a time, in بَيْت لَحْم "bayt laḥm"; Bethlehem, and الخَلِيل "al-khalīl"; Hebron). Families rush to complete chores that require water the moment they discover the taps are running. Those in rural areas rely on cisterns and wells that they are forbidden to deepen; new wells and reservoirs that they build are demolished in the hundreds by the Israeli military. Water deficits must be made up by paying steep prices for additional tankards of water, both through clandestine networks and from Israel itself. As climate change makes summers hotter and longer, the crisis worsens.

By contrast, Israeli settlers use water at will. Israel, as the sole authority over water resources, has the power to transfer water between aquifers; in practice, it uses this authority to divert water from the Jordan River basin, subterranean aquifers, and بُحَيْرَة طَبَرِيَّا ("buḥayrat ṭabariyyā"; Lake Tiberias) into its national water carrier (built in 1964), and from there to other regions, including the Negev Desert (south of the West Bank) and settlements within the West Bank.

Whenever Israel annexes new land, settlers there are rapidly given access to water; the PA, however, is forbidden to transport water from one area of the West Bank to another. Israel's control over water resources is an important part of the settler colonial project, as access to water greatly influences the desirability of land and the expected profit to be gained through its agricultural exports.

The result of the diversion of water is to increase the salinity of the Eastern Aquifer (in the West Bank, on the east bank of the Jordan River) and the remainder of the Jordan that flows into the West Bank, reducing the water's suitability for drinking and irrigation; in addition, natural springs and wells in Palestine have run dry. In this environment, water for drinking and watering crops and livestock is given priority, and many Palestinians struggle to access enough water to shower or wash clothing regularly. In extreme circumstances, crops may be left for dead, as Palestinian farmers instead seek out jobs tending Israeli fields.

Some areas in Palestine are worse off in this regard than others. Though water can be produced more easily in the قَلْقِيلية (Qalqilya), طُولْكَرْم (Tulkarm) and أَرِيحَا ("ʔarīḥā"; Jericho) Districts than in others, the PA is not permitted to transfer water from these areas to areas where water is scarcer, such as the Bethlehem and Al-Khalil Districts. In Al-Khalil, where almost a third of Palestinian acreage devoted to turnips is located [1], and where farming families such as the Jabars cultivate them for market, water usage averaged just 51 liters per person per day in 2020—compare this to the West Bank Palestinian average of 82.4 liters, the WHO recommended daily minimum of 100 liters, and the Israeli average of 247 liters per person per day.

As Israeli settlement גִּבְעַת חַרְסִינָה (Givat Harsina) encroached on Al-Khalil in 2001, with a subdivision being built over the bulldozed Jabar orchard, the Jabars reported settlers breaking their windows, destroying their garden, throwing rocks, and holding rallies on the road leading to their house. In 2010, with the growth of the קִרְיַת־אַרְבַּע (Kiryat Arba) settlement (officially the parent settlement of Givat Harsina), the Jabars' entire irrigation system was repeatedly torn out, with the justification that they were stealing water from the Israeli water authority; the destruction continued into 2014. Efforts at connecting and expanding Israeli settlements in the Bethlehem area continue to this day.

Thus we can see that water deprivation is one tool among many used to drive Palestinians from their land; and that it is connected to a strategy of rendering agriculture impossible or unprofitable for them, forcing them into a state of dependence on the Israeli economy.

Turnips, as well as cabbage and chili peppers, are also grown in the village of وَادِي فُوقِين (Wadi Fuqin), west of Bethlehem. In 2014, Israel annexed about 1,250 acres of land in Wadi Fuqin, or a third of the village's land, "effectively [ruling] out development of the village and its use of this land for agriculture." Most of this land lies immediately to the west of a group of settlements Israel calls גּוּשׁ עֶצְיוֹן ("Gush Etzion"; Etzion Bloc). Building here would link several non-contiguous Israeli settlements with each other and with القدس (Al-Quds; "Jerusalem"), hemming Palestinians of the region in on all sides (many main roads through Israeli settlements cannot be used by anyone with a Palestinian ID). [2] PLO executive committee member Hanan Ashrawi said that the annexation, which was carried out "[u]nder the cover of [Israel's] latest campaign of aggression in Gaza," "represent[ed] Israel’s deliberate intent to wipe out any Palestinian presence on the land".

This, of course, was not the beginning of this strategy: untreated sewage from Gush Etzion settlements had been contaminating crops, springs, and groundwater in Wadi Fuqin since 2006, which also saw nearly 100 acres of Palestinian land annexed to allow for expansion of the Etzion Bloc.

All of this has obviously had an effect on Palestinian agriculture. A 1945–6 British survey of vegetable production in Palestine found that 992 dunums were devoted to Arab turnip production (954 irrigated and 38 rain-fed; no turnip production was attributed to Jewish settlers). A March 1948 UN report claimed that "[i]n most districts the markets are well-supplied with all the common winter vegetables—cabbages, cauliflowers, lettuce and spinach; carrots, turnips and and beets; beans and peas; green onions, eggplants, marrows and tomatoes." By 2009, however, the area given to turnips in Palestine had fallen to 918 dunums. Of these, 864 dunums were irrigated and 54 rain-fed. This represents an increase in unirrigated turnips (5.8%, up from 3.9%) that is perhaps related to difficulty in obtaining sufficient water.

Meanwhile, Israel profits from its restriction of Palestinian agriculture; it is the largest exporter of turnips in West Asia (I found no data for turnip exports from Palestine after 1922, suggesting that the produce is all for local consumption).

The pattern that Ashrawi called out in 2014 continued in 2023, as Israel's genocide in Gaza occurs alongside the continued and escalating killing and expulsion of West Bank Palestinians. The 2014 annexations, which represented the largest land grab for over 30 years and which appeared to institute a new era of state policy, have been followed up in subsequent years with more land claims and settlement-building.

Israeli military and settler raids and massacres in the West Bank, which had already killed 248 in 2023 before the حَمَاس (Hamas) October 7 offensive had taken place, accelerated after the attack, with forced expulsions of Palestinians (including Bedouin Arabs), and harassment, raids, kidnappings, and torture of Palestinians by a military armed with rifles, tanks, and drones. This violence has been opposed by armed resistance groups, who defend refugee camps from military raids with strategies including the use of improvised explosives.

Support Palestinian resistance by buying an e-sim for distribution in Gaza; donating to help two Gazans receive medical care; or donating to help a family leave Gaza.

[1] 918 dunums were devoted to turnips according to the Palestinian Central Bureau of Statistics (PCBS) report for 2009; the 2008 PCBS report attributes 253 dunums of turnip cultivation to Al-Khalil ("Hebron") for 2006–7.

[2] Today, Gush Etzion is connected to Al-Quds by an underground road that runs beneath the Palestinian Christian town of بَيتْ جَالَا (Bayt Jala).

Ingredients:

Makes 2 1-liter mason jars.

500g (4 medium) turnips

1 beetroot

1 medium green chili pepper (فلفل حار خضرة), halved

2 small cloves garlic, peeled

1 liter (4 cups) distilled or filtered water

25g coarse sea salt (or substitute an equivalent weight of any salt without iodine)

Some brining recipes for lifit call for the addition of a spoonful of sugar. This will increase the activity of lactic-acid-producing bacteria at the beginning of the fermentation, producing a quicker fermentation and a different, sourer flavor profile.

Instructions:

1. Clean two large mason jars thoroughly in hot water (there is no need to sterilize them).

2. Scrub vegetables thoroughly. Cut the top (root) and bottom off of each turnip. Cut each turnip in half (from root end to bottom), and then in 1 cm (1/2") slices (perpendicular to the last cut). Prepare the beetroot the same way.

If you need your pickles to be finished sooner, cut the turnips into thinner slices, or into thick (1/2") baton shapes; these will need to be fermented for about a week.

3. Arrange turnip and beet slices so that they lie flat in your jars. Add garlic and peppers.

4. Whisk salt into water until dissolved and pour over the turnips until they are fully submerged. Seal with the jar's lid and leave in a cool place, or the refrigerator, for 20–24 days.

The amount of brine that you will need to cover the top of the vegetables will depend on the shape of your jar. If you add more water, make sure that you add more salt in the same ratio.

[incorrectbatfam]

There was Margie, and then there was the batfam, what about the rogues with Steph time in retail?

Part 1 with Margie

Part 2 with the batfam

———————

[at the grocery store]

Riddler: Riddle me this: you eat me before I'm born and after I'm dead. What am I?

Steph: Eggs are aisle 3, chickens are aisle 4.

———————

[at the coffee shop]

Ivy: Is the oat milk locally sourced?

Steph: Yes, I don't recommend it.

———————

[at the clothing store]

Scarecrow: *walks in*

Steph: Sorry sir, this isn't a Spirit Halloween yet.

———————

[at the drive-thru]

Steph: Welcome to Batburgers, what can I get you?

Harley: Hiya! Can I do a double cheese batburger deluxe with no onions and extra pickles, and I'll have a side of nacho chili cheese fries with a drizzle of barbecue sauce. I'll also take two Bat-Hound Doggy Bags—one with Robin nuggets, honey mustard, milk, and apples with caramel, and the other with the steak Talon tacos minus the sour cream and with the salsa separate, fruit punch, and the Hush Puppies.

Steph: Anything else?

Harley: Yeah, I'll do the Create Your Own milkshake with vanilla bean, chocolate, strawberry, cookies 'n cream, cherry, black cherry, cotton candy, funfetti with double the fetti, mint chip, salted caramel, peanut butter crunch, brownie bites, extra whipped cream, and gummy bears on top.

Steph: Alright, that'll be $20.37. Please pull up to the next window.

Harley: Before I pay, could you read that back to me?

———————

[at the furniture store]

Steph: Let me guess, you need new cushions.

Clayface, while dripping clay: *nods sadly*

———————

[at the restaurant]

Joker: Give me a good laugh. A hearty chuckle. Serve me up nice, warm smile.

Steph:

———————

[at the call center]

Steph: Wayne Enterprises account support, how can I help you?

Black Mask: *starts threatening every member of the Wayne family*

Steph: Mhm. I understand. Please hold.

Steph: *puts him on hold*

Steph: *clocks out*

Steph: *goes home*

———————

[at home]

Steph: You won't BELIEVE the week I had.

Tim: Remind me again why you work seven jobs simultaneously?

[kimetsu-no-yaiba-writings]

Maybe making a bento for the kamaboko squad?

Anon (´∀｀•) This was such a nice request to receive! It just instantly sent my head into fluffy territory and it was just a pleasure to write.

It also made me want to make a bento?

if you have any other requests like this one - or literally any other type of request - then please send it in because your more than welcome too <3

Making a Bento for the Kamaboko Squad!:

Tanjirou Kamado:

Ok, first off! Tanjirou would literally eat anything and everything you made him - seriously, head AND stomach of steel

Obviously if you took the time to make it all pretty and presentable he would look it in awe and eat it slowly to properly savoir the presentation and flavoring

Loves it when you pack him all the home cooked meals

He's happy with food that were left over from breakfast or dinner from yesterday - so long as its something you've made

Enjoys your Miso Yaki Onigiri with Honey Soy Chicken with a side of cherry tomatoes + sauteed cabbage

Anything yummy makes him happy - well... anything that you've put time and effort in is always gonna make him happy

Wouldn't say he has a big sweet tooth but he really can't turn down your desserts - especially if freshly made!

Particularly loves your Matcha Marble Pound Cake

If you ask him, Tanjirou will help you make your's and his bento's

Nezuko Kamado:

Nezuko loves your bento's

She loves the bright colours of the food that you use - it always makes her happy to see that you've added something into the rice to make it slightly pink

Nezuko also has a soft spot for sweet things so when you add extra Tamagoyaki (sweetened omelette) from breakfast to her bento it adds a little pep in her step

She really loves forward to the bento's you make during cherry blossom season cause everything is cherry blossomed themed - lots of cherry blossom themed desserts too! e.g. Cherry Blossom milk pudding

Oh! Enjoys abit of Sweet and Sour in her bento - specifically when you use the lefter overs from your sweet and sour chicken + vegetables with steamed rice

Sweet and Sour Chicken with Japanese Potato Salad and steamed rice with sesame seeds and umeboshi (pickled plum) + cherry tomatoes

Will absolutely help you make the bento's

Inosuke Hashibira:

He's still getting used to receiving a packed bento - Inosuke was really confused when you first gave him one

Doesn't see the point of all the pretty food shapes and colours to begin with but he does secretly enjoy it when you shape and do all that stuff with his food - it just helps prove that you love him cause your making him food and making it into things he likes

Cackles when he opens his bento up and there's onigiri shaped like boars + pigs

Will eat anything that's smothered in teriyaki sauce or tempure-d

Absolutely adores sweet potato pie and will eat an entire one to himself.... - its safe to say that you put at least a couple of slices in his bento when you make a pie to hold him off

To give him his vitamins in the form of fruits, other than berries, you usually pack him a Fruit Sandwich/Fruit Sando - a taste sweet dessert in sandwich form that consists of sweet milk bread, fresh whipped cream with strawberries, kiwi and orange - which you usually have to give him extra as he scoffs down the first one

don't ask him to help make the bento's.....he'll eat everything as your preparing them...

Zenitsu Agatsuma:

Absolutely sobs when you give him a bento.... actually that happens every single time you make him a bento

Enjoys literally all of your food

Will absolutely sob while eating it...

Really enjoy when you use ginger and honey in the foods

Has a softspot for your Ginger Pork Onigirazu

Although he really loves when you pack Nikujaga (Meat and Potato Stew) with Shirataki Noodles with a side of Miso eggplant in his bento

Loves all the desserts/sweet things that you pack him

Doesn't matter what type of dessert - cake,mochi, crepe, etc. - its going into his stomach

although if he had to pick a favourite, it would have to be your Warabi Mochi

You can ask him to help prepare the bento's but he will add more stuff than needed or add the wrong decorations and/or seasonings

[yjunluvr]

Date Night With Bf!Yeonjun

pairings: bf!yeonjun x f!reader

genre: one-shot, fluff, established relationship

synopsis: you and your boyfriend Yeonjun stay-in for a movie night date where you guys make pizza and bake lots of sweets and just enjoy each other’s company

warnings: super sweet, teeth rotting, delusional type of fluff, light kissing, suggestive language, flirty/silly yeonjun which may make you swoon too heavily

Word Count: 1,457

Proofread

a/n: This is my first ever one-shot, so please be nice. 🥺 I just love thinking about bf!yeonjun and how romantic he would be during a stay-in movie night. ( Yeonjun calls reader beautiful, baby, my girl)

Yeonjun and you haven't had a date night in a while, so you decided tonight would be the night you guys watch a movie at your apartment. Due to all the stress that comes with work, both of you agreed you needed a break.

Right now, you're in the kitchen kneading some pizza dough. Yeonjun knows you love pizza, so he decided you'd make pineapple pizza for dinner tonight followed by some sweets because he knows you're a sweet tooth.

Yeonjun stands behind you while you're in the kitchen, his hands wrapped around your waist, his chin resting on your shoulder as he helps you knead and stretch the dough.

He’s telling you sweet things, like how beautiful you look tonight, and how much he loves you, and you're throwing compliments back at him. You two are giggling and enjoying each other's company.

Yeonjun, being the playful and silly boyfriend that he is, took some flour that remained on his hands and smeared it on your nose.

YEONJUNNN" you say, dragging out his name sarcastic and light, giggling as he chuckles into your ear, gently swaying you side to side in his arms.

"As if you couldn't get cuter, you make flour look good on you" he says, as you blush at his words.

Once you finished adding pork, pickled onions, and a sweet and tangy BBQ sauce to the pineapple pizza, Yeonjun put it in the oven.

Turning around from putting the pizza in the oven, he saw you had a focused look on your face and your pouty lips were sticking out slightly, your eyebrows scrunched up, as you hummed a tune to yourself, as you were placing the dough for the chocolate chip cookies on the tray.

He leaned against the counter smiling and watching you with awe and admiration. His eyes sparkling with love.

You looked so relaxed and happy in this state, and he loved seeing you like this. Yeonjun loves you more than anyone, as he watches you lovingly. He wondered how he got so lucky.

Seeing you in your zone, he slowly sneaks up behind you and swoops you up in his arms, as you squeal in surprise. “Yeonjun! Put me down” you say, giggling.

Leave to Yeonjun, to always leave you on the edge of your toes every time you guys are together. When you guys are together, there's never a dull moment. You always have butterflies when Yeonjun surprises you with romantic gestures.

After Yeonjun carries you through the kitchen, he heads to the living room, where he has set up the most romantic scene for you. You gasp, your eyes slightly watering over the immense amount of emotions coursing through your veins looking at what he did for you.

Your face lights up as he notices how you smile. "Are you happy with what I did with the place?" He asks as he gently places you down on the couch, planting a gentle kiss on your nose followed by a gentle kiss on your lips, which you reciprocate.

You could see candles scattered around the place, making the moment even more romantic and special. Yeonjun also laid out matching blankets on the armrests of the couch for you guys to use. The coffee table in front of you had a bowl of popcorn and a few bags of sour candies. “Yeonjun!”, you looked at him endearingly. “You spoil me too much” you tell him.

His hands slowly reach for your face, your noses touching, then breaking away slightly, as he caresses your cheeks with his thumb. He begins to plant sweet kisses all over your face, engulfing you tight and comfortingly. Making you giggle again at the ticklish sensation. “My girl deserves to be spoiled because she is beautiful, and she works hard.”, he states.

Suddenly the oven goes off and you both jump for joy that the food is finally ready, both your stomachs growling. You start to get up with him to help bring the food over, but he then stops you. You look at him with a quizzical look on your face. “What’s wrong?”, you ask him.

“Nothing, it’s just that I want my pretty girl to sit prettily, and relax. I will go grab the food you stay here.”, He says smiling down at you, giving you his beautiful smile that you love so much.

You roll your eyes in a playful manner at his cheesy remark, but you allow it, knowing that even if you tried to defy him you would lose in the end.

Yeonjun, soon came back with the chocolate chip cookies, and the delicious pizza you guys made together. Setting it down, Yeonjun takes out his phone and takes a picture of the cute set up. He then turns the camera to you, posing at the camera for a selfies calling your attention, “Smile for me, baby” he says as he snaps a picture of you both of you together.

In the picture, Yeonjun had leaned into the side of your face and planted a kiss on your cheek as he snapped the photo of you both; your smile making his heart swell.

Giving it a look, he turns the screen over to you showing yourself as you see yourself blushing and smiling so happily. “All these years together and I still manage to make you as red as a tomato.”, he teases giving you a wink.

Grabbing one of the soft pillows on the couch you swat him with it on his arm a couple times playfully, trying to hide the even deeper shade of red forming on your face.

“Yeonjunnn” you whine trying to cover your face. “I love it when you say my name, baby” flirts with you again, chuckling. Once finished taking a selfie, he put his phone down on the coffee table and sat back down with you, throwing his arms over your shoulders and wrapping them around you, and pulling you in closer to him.

His fingers then began to rub and massage light, soothing circles on the back of your nape, as he leans in and kisses you on the top of your head, relieving you of the tension you have been holding from a stressful workload in your neck and lower back. “You smell nice.”, kissing your shoulder, he murmurs it into your ear, giving you goosebumps from the raspiness of his voice, deep and sultry.

Yeonjun, knew how much his voice had an effect on you, so he sometimes, more than often, liked to tease you.

Eventually, after a while of listening to his abundant words affirmation, which you obviously enjoyed very much, you started to wonder if you guys were ever going to even start the movie you guys had picked for movie night.

The thing about your movie nights with Yeonjun is that, he’s always whispering sweet nothings in your ears, and kissing you so much that you guys never get to the end of the movie. Yeonjun being to distracting and hot and all. You had no doubt that his love language is physical tongue and words of affirmation.

However, you guys like to try and challenge yourselves, hoping that this time you guys would be able to watch a whole movie the whole way through. And so, you guys finally settle on watching 13 Going On 30, one of your guys favorite romantic comedy.

As the beginning credits of the movie started to roll you both start to nestle up closer to each other, grabbing the matching blankets that he had set out for you two to use.

Splaying the blankets over both your legs as both your legs are stretched out on the couch, you guys intertwin your legs together, and cuddle up closer. Yeonjun, then grabs your hand, intertwining them with his and brings your knuckles to his lips and kisses the back of your hand.

“ I love you, Y/N.” He says. “I’m so lucky to have you in my life.” He continues, making your heart swell. You then look at him, returning the love back to him. “ I love you too, Yeonjun, thank you for making this night so perfect, and thank you for being amazing all the time.” You tell him, giving him the praise that he deserves.

Leaning in, he begins to kiss you again, taking your breath away with a breathless kiss, and in that moment, as the movie drifted to the back of your minds, all that you guys cared about in that moment was each others embrace and presence.

In that moment, you both knew that you guys would definitely not be making it to the end of the movie, and Yeonjun made sure of it. 😉

_____________________________________________

A/N: OH MY GODDD AS IF I COULDN’T HAVE MADE MYSELF ANYMORE DELUSIONAL OVER YEONJUN 😭😭

[wherefancytakesme]

After 10 years of craving it, I now present to you... the triple pickle cream pie!

I haven't thought about it for a long time, but then I learned recently that a (terrible) recipe for a pickle cheesecake exists, and I was reminded of the pie in WOY that looked impossibly good to me, and thought if I could make an actually good pickle pie. Two weeks ago I finally got started, and now here we are.

I found a recipe for cucumber-lime pie and mixed it with cream pie instructions.

I made it "triple" by putting pickle in the filling (plain cucumber), pickle in the cream (sour-- not salty-- pickle juice and a TON more sugar mixed in), and pickles on the side (Japanese sour ones just as removable garnish).

Then I used a graham-cracker pie crust because looking at the pies in the show for some reason always made me nostalgic for those Hershey's sundae pies you could get in slices at certain restaurants-- and they both work better once frozen.

I also made the wave pattern with a rubber spatula.

I had two different people try it and they said it was honestly not bad! (I thought it tasted pretty alright.)

Anyway, it's not perfect, but I'm sure you can all try and experiment with it yourself if you're ambitious and hungry for it enough, haha.

Sorry for the varying lighting on the pictures, the kitchen lights bleached the irl colors on-camera and I had to retouch most of them, hence the mild saturation.

[pinkhoneydrop]

The Pickle Theory

[ A/n ] - something quick i thought about after i saw a video of Harry saying he likes pickels lol

[ Pairing ] - Harry Styles x Reader!

[ Genre ] - fluff

[ Masterlist ]

One Saturday a month you and Harry spend the entire night on the couch in your apartment watching A random show. This month you decided on a romcom. You also switch off on who makes dinner. Tonight, Harry made his “famous” sandwiches. How are they “famous” you ask? He never tells you and you always laugh because they just taste like regular sandwiches. But how could you say that to him? He’s so sweet when he announces it from your kitchen. The sound of the fridge opening and closing in the background as you flip through Netflix.

“You’re so cute when you do that.” Harry’s laugh filled the air as you looked down at your sandwich. Two slices of bread, two slices of chicken, some lettuce, a slice of tomato and pickles. You made a face as you adjusted the plate in your lap and set the food down.

“Do what? What did I do?” Your expression morphed quickly at his statement. Harry just continued to laugh as you looked to him to continue. Nothing more was said and after a few more attempts you gave up going back to your sandwich. Harry watched with a cheeky smile ignoring the movie playing in the background.

First you open it, inspecting the contents and then moving about the insides. Methodically lifting lettuce and moving the meat slices to get to the culprit of your dissection. Your nose scrunched up and you took the green bits between your fingers and set them aside.

“That, you made that face when you tasted the pickle. Little nose goes all scrunched and you frown, s’cute.” Harry spoke between bites as you removed the pickles from the other side as well. Peering at him through your peripheral vision you uncrunched your nose and sighed.

“What’s so cute about how I feel about sour bits in my sandwich?” You were dead serious. You’ve had an aversion to them since you were small and never grew out of it. To you there was nothing worse than a giant pile of pickles on a sandwich. Or even when they get wedged beside a burger. The odd part is that Harry knows this about you. So why would he put a pickle on your sandwich anyway?

“Nasty little things.” You shut the sandwich and took a big bite to punctuate the thought. Harry smiled and reached over. His fingers pulled them from your plate and put them onto his own. He basked in your distaste and reveled in your discovery.

“Well, I like the nasty little things just fine.” A flat smile lined his lips as you stared at him. Your eyes followed as he copied you in reverse and added the sour slices to his sandwich. Shaking your head, you took a sip of your shared drink. Another couple tradition the two of you started.

“We know you like them. But why are they on my sandwich?” You grumbled playfully as you looked up at him with your sandwich gripped in one hand.

Harry chuckled to himself again.

“Know you did it on purpose.”  You mumbled into a straw you placed at your lips before taking another sip of the drink. With a soft roll of his eyes Harry watched you drink more.

“Stop hogging the lemonade.” Harry made a playful frown and reached for the cup before you finished causing dribbles of juice to land on your chin.

“Y’know you do that a lot.” He started as he set the cup down.

“What? Hog the drinks we’re supposed share.” You laugh while wiping the droplets off your face. Harry shook his head before he replied.

“Take the pickles off of everything. Why don’t you just tell people to leave them off.”

“We’ll, I don’t like them, but I know you do. that’s why I get them.” You looked at him and smiled. You wondered to yourself how many times he’s caught you making that face when you accidentally eat one. The thought makes heat rise to your cheeks. You weren’t kidding when you said you get them because he likes them. You’ve been doing that since your first date. Harry just looked at you as you smiled at him.

“That’s why I did it. Were like Marshall and Lily, it’s what makes us a good match.” He spoke smoothly and sat back further into the couch. You nodded doing the same with a smirk on your lips. So that’s where he got this idea from. The fucking olives from How I Met Your Mother. The two of you binged a few episodes that month.

“Never letting you watch How I Met Your Mother, ever again.” You joked and took the cup of lemonade for yourself.  While his idea was a little far-fetched being that it’s supposed to be about olives not pickles, some part of it felt like it could be true. Something so insignificant as sharing a pickle on a sandwich bringing people together.

“Yeah, yeah just finish your sandwich. Slaved in the kitchen to bring you high quality meals.” Harry raised his brow dramatically and his dramatics almost rivaled that of the actors on the screen.

“Oh hush, you’re lucky I like you.”

“And you’re lucky I like pickles.”

[doradotcom]

i could be the person who names cocteau twins songs. Crackling Prawns In Orange Flavor. Mermaid’s Tresses. Pistachio Honey and Aspic. Manila Clams On Broccoli Bed. Ginger Angelica. Sugar Vinegar Hairtail. The Palace Quick-Fries a Bean Curd. Bitter Gourd Grasping. Sour Sour Pinecone Fish. Strange Flavor Curd Thread. Abalone Legend. Slip Away the Chicken Slice. Side of Pickled Lantern Chillies. Taihu Ozymandias. The Three Freshnesses of Earth. Firecracker Cod In Soy-Sherry Sauce. Our Aromatic Lychee Sorbet. God With Vanilla. it comes naturally to me.