#and i love intertwining these and mixing them in together like a spice blend

[starbuck]

love having headcanons that are well-supported interpretations of canon relationships and events and i DOUBLE love having headcanons based on like. one offhand line meant as a joke and completely unhinged speculation.

[sichengtual]

meeting taeil under the falling snow was your one long-standing traditions, tending to your feelings until they, like flowers, were ready to bloom in full.

— pairing: moon taeil x reader.

— au: soulmates.

— genre: fluff.

— word count: 1767.

— playlist: more than words — extreme; on the snow — exo.

for @seodami​, from your @neoculturechristmas​’s secret santa! i had a lot of fun writing this for you, and i hope you’ve been enjoying enjoying your holidays! here’s a little something for you 💓

You had always known both you and Taeil were creatures of habit. 

It had been clear, since the very beginnings of your relationship, that part of the reason you understood each other so well was because you functioned so similarly in the first place. You had met in between previously set scenes, noticed each other purely because of the way you blended yourselves right into each other’s lives so naturally, it was hard for you to tell when you had started to blend into one cohesive picture to begin with. 

He felt like a childhood friend and a mysterious stranger all at the same time: with the sense of familiarity that could only belong to a bond that has been created in the course of a lifetime, and the excitement behind getting to meet him almost once again every time he showed you a new side of himself. You had always known it was special, how he could make you feel known yet undiscovered with a single look, with something in his eyes letting you see the exact point where both outlooks intertwined. You had always felt it was unique, with the calmness behind his smile and the thrill behind his voice — and you had always been sure he had felt it too. 

Despite the brief four years of knowing each other, in a way, it almost felt like he had always been there. Like he had always belonged in your life just like you had always belonged in his, your meeting being the final piece of a puzzle that had been many years in the making, the finishing touches of a life’s work masterpiece. Him being in your life, somehow, made sense. 

And, as such, it became hard to imagine what it would have been like if he wasn’t. Looking back, there were so many things in your life you could connect back to Taeil, even when at a simple glance, none of them had really anything to do with him. He was just there, sunk so deep in the back of your mind that he was the sole protagonist of your thoughts and dreams even when he’s miles away.

The two of you held mirroring tattoos in the exact same way you had mirroring souls, each one of the lines drawn on your skin signaling the other that you were there.

But as much as Taeil lived inside of you as you lived inside of him, accepting the soulmate bond meant having to live life as two instead of one. It required commitment, and even though the two of you already knew you were gonna end up together, you agreed that feelings, just like flowers, can’t be pressured into blooming.

Taeil always met you at the Winter Carnival at exactly 7 p.m, as if on clockwork. He always waited next to the tallest lightpost, a bag of toasted chestnuts you’d share as you walked along the hundreds of small, fairy lights clad tents. Taeil would often stop and look at the little trinkets that were offered in the small shops, not buying anything unless you liked it.

“I just like doing it,” Taeil would always say. “It’s not that it’s anything big, it’s just something for you to think of me.”

You were sure he bought them to remember you, too. To look back and think of the colorful little trinkets he had purchased, recalling the memory of your hands brushing together as you walked side by side just as night started to fall. 

It was just you and him, meeting each other once a year before it got dark. In a sense, it was a sort of sign, reminding you of each other right before the new year rolled around. It gave you something to hope for, a sort of beacon at the end of the way. 

Just like that, just as time passed, you had started to fall in love with Taeil in the way people were expected to fall in love with their soulmates: completely and whole-heartedly. It almost felt like diving head first straight into the ocean, breaking through the icy waters in the promise of finding something so precious on the other end of the shore it gave you a rhythm to follow, a path to swim by. 

And you finally decided to tell him. 

Snow has just started falling when you leave the house.

It’s no different from every other carnival day: cool gusts of wind, warm spiced scents, bright flickering lights. People pass by you as you make your way into the fair, barely even brushing shoulders before they go back to being just a part of the background, holding no more significance than a brief locking of sights. Noises mix in together like an intricate score, voices and melodies composing an accompanying piece that set the beat not only to your steps, but to the scene as a whole. 

You’re surprised by how different it makes it feel; feeling happier with laughter and more neutral with the lack of it, occasionally setting your attention in the background accompaniments such as the soft ring of a bell or the muted honk of a horn. In complete honesty, it’s a picture perfect rendition of a scene only seen in movies, and it doesn’t help feeling like both you and Taeil could set its entire course with only a change in conversation. 

He’s waiting for you, holding a small white paper bag, like he always does. He’s dressed in warm, layered clothes, a smile on his lips only growing with each and every step you took in his direction. Small, almost translucent snowflakes are beginning to fall over his head, adorning the strands of hair that fell over his forehead, and you couldn’t help but think of just how much the current scene resembled one straight of a frame belonging in the Louvre. 

“It’s nice to see you again,” are the first words he says when looking at you. They carry a weight behind them, an actual sense of longing produced by the cruel passing of the time in which you were apart. 

His voice feels warm. 

“You got a haircut.” 

“Yeah,” he smiles. “Do you think it suits me?” 

“I think you’re absolutely rocking it.”

It’s not unusual for Taeil to grow shy. Even after the years and years you’d known him, he still blushes at your compliments, no matter how hard you try to convince him your words spoke nothing but the truth. He knew that, though, because your voice made everything sound like something he’s always been aware of. 

“Here, have some,” Taeil offers you a sheepish smile before he extends the paper bag in your direction. “They’re still warm.” 

Still looking at him, you take one of the chestnuts from the bag and propped it into your mouth, the salty top layer in the snack immediately melting in your mouth. Moving closer to him, you let your hand brush against Taeil’s free one, immediately following his steps as he starts walking. 

And, in all honesty, the atmosphere never stopped surprising you. Out of the corner of your eye you can see the light reflect upon Taeil, illuminating his face in an ensemble of warm, combining colors. You can only imagine the effect it must have on his eyes, bringing out their own natural glow in the exact same way it painted them in a kaleidoscope of different shades of Christmas. 

It’s funny when you recall this is the most magical night of the year. You think of having felt just that in Taeil’s embrace, having heard magic in his voice. You’re sure that his presence in your life is exactly what makes it magical, and get to feel just that when he takes your hand in his. 

“I’ve been thinking a lot about us,” Taeil says, his voice bringing you back from your haze. “About what we’re gonna do from now on.”

You nod, trying to get him to continue. You want to tell him you’ve been doing the exact same thing, thinking about moving forward, finally taking a step. But you wait until after he speaks, wanting to know what his stance is in the matter, getting to know both sides before pulling together a story. 

You can’t really make out what it is, but there’s something about Taeil’s voice that gives you hope. You keep walking through the growing crowd, having to move closer together to walk next to together next to the waves of people. Somewhere in there, Taeil finally laces your fingers together, feeling your heart growing warm.

“I know we decided to wait before we finally accepted what we are, and what it means for us,” he says. “We took what fate gave us and let it grow on its own accord, and now it doesn’t really feel like it was something made for us. It feels as if we’ve the ones that made it, growing closer because we wanted to, and not because it was simply imposed on us.” 

Taeil gives your hand a squeeze. 

“I’ve fallen in love with you the way it should be. It feels like I’ve been dreaming, somehow being happier in a dream that I’ve ever been while awake. And all this time, I was only dreaming of you.” 

You’ve reached the middle of the fair, coming to a stop next to your bench, right in front of the brightly lit carrousel. There’s a live band playing somewhere near, music reaching your ears right as you stop walking, and a strong scent of warm cider coming from somewhere in the tents. You turn to look at Taeil, looking at all the snow that has gathered on top of his head, and the slight blush on his cheeks that you can’t tell if it’s a product of his words or simply a reaction from the cold. 

You decide you don’t have to know.

“I’m in love with you too,” you say. “And not because of fate, but because of you. Fate only helped us find each other, but the rest grew from here. From us.” 

Taking a step in your direction, Taeil finally kissed you under a thousand flickering fairy lights. It was a change in the routine, a new tradition only but growing from an already existing one. Maybe the meetings under the snow were coming to an end, but you’d take a thousand sunny days by Taeil’s side over standing alone under the rain. 

Right there, with snow falling right on top of your head, you had never felt so warm.

[twstdreams]

I got a song request for ya (scenario or short story)! Rocketeer—Far East Movement for either Kalim or Jamil plz :) song kinda gave me magic carpet vibes lol

My first song request! I hope you like it!

Flying with you

Kalim Al-Asim x Reader:

Here we go, come with me,

There’s a world out there that we should see,

Take my hand, close your eyes

With you right here, I’m a rocketeer

Why the dorm leader was outside your window in the late morning was beyond you. He excitedly knocked on the glass like it was normal to be hovering outside on a magic carpet.

“Let’s go!”

“One minute!” you replied while haphazardly shoving items into a bag to bring on whatever adventure awaited you. 

Let’s fly, fly, fly, fly

Up, up, here we go, go

Where we stop nobody knows (knows)

You took his hand and hopped onto the magic carpet. There were no words exchanged but you trusted the excitement that glimmered in his eyes. 

“Are you gonna give me any clues about what’s happening right now?” you teased. The gentle breeze kept you cool but the warm sunlight prevented you from feeling chilly. Even simply riding a magic carpet was fun, but you doubted Kalim would look so eager for a simple joyride. 

“It’s a surprise!” he declared with a smile so bright it rivalled the sun.

Where we go we don’t need roads (roads),

Where we stop nobody knows (knows),

To the stars if you really want it

“Alright,” you conceded but your mind couldn’t stop guessing what Kalim had planned. The further you two flew, the less familiar the area became. There were twists and turns you had never taken before and roads with names that were new to you. Your surroundings provided no hints for whatever event was going to unfold.

Kalim himself looked pretty normal, his current outfit barely differing from his normal attire. So you probably weren’t doing anything extraneous? At the very least, nothing in a chilly climate. Perhaps you were heading to a zoo? Kalim adored animals.

Here we go, come with me,

There’s a world out there that we should see,

Take my hand, close your eyes

Kalim spun around and took your hands in his. Anticipation practically radiated off his body as his grin grew wider. His lips were almost twitching as if it was taking all his effort to not spoil the surprise and shout out his plans. 

“We’re almost there! No peeking!” Kalim lifted your hands and placed them on top of your eyes before returning to steering the magic carpet. You were so tempted to peek but instead, you relied on your other senses for clues. Whispers and words mingled together to create the sound of indistinguishable chatter accompanied by busy steps. A rich tantalizing scent filled your nose as a blend of spices wafted by. 

Shop the streets of Tokyo get your fly kicks,

Girl you always on my mind,

Got my head up in the sky,

And I’m never looking down feelin’ priceless, yeah

“Ta-da!” Kalim exclaimed, taking your hand in his as you landed before the entrance to the street market. An explosion of life, colour, and food appeared before your eyes.

“It’s like you knew I was getting hungry!” You were overwhelmed by the bustling scene filled with vendors shouting out deals, children running about, and people roaming around while filling up their bags. Each stand was decorated by vivacious colours which added to the liveliness.

“I know a place that sells the best buns!” Before you could even linger on any of the nearby stalls, Kalim grabbed your hands and you two dove into the chaos. You broke into a light jog to keep up with Kalim as the two of you zipped around on a path only Kalim knew. You intertwined your fingers with him and he squeezed in response.

“Here! We’ll take two!” He’s handing over money and you have a bun in your hand before you can even properly inhale the wonderous slightly sweet scent from the dough. Kalim had already begun devouring the bun so you took a bite of yours. The dough was crispy on the outside, soft and pillowy on the inside, and the filling satisfied all of your cravings the minute it hit your tongue. The amalgamation of textures and tastes caused a giant grin to grow on your face.

The process repeated itself as the two of you try one delicacy after another. Ice cream, sweet and custardy, with a flavour you’d never seen before, skewers seasoned with unique spice mixes, something unknown and charred but mouthwatering, and a soup that warms your very soul.

“Hey, do you see that?” you asked while spotting a little flag sprouting from a building in a side street, “Let’s check it out!” This time Kalim followed your whims as you head into the unknown store. The shop was clustered, shelves filled to the brim with trinkets of all kinds, and separate stands to hold what the shelves couldn’t contain. After roaming around, one specific item caught your eye. You loved how the colours danced in the sunlight. No matter how far you wandered away, you always went back to it until suddenly it was snatched from your fingers.

“I’ll take this!” Kalim called to the shopkeeper with a cheeky grin as he saw your surprised expression.

“You don’t have to!” you insisted, but Kalim swiftly paid for the trinket before you could protest.

“Thank you,” you gushed while marvelling at the gift with a giddy smile. For Kalim, your happiness was the most precious thing in the shop. 

[thevengeanceuniverse]

Music is Worthless (WinterIron)

Read the whole thing here: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24563422

                                                            ~~~

Barnes took a hell of a long time to find, leading Steve in a merry chase around the world as he thoroughly waged war on any Hydra bases he had ever been housed in or heard whispers of.

Steve was gone more often than not, coming back for a few days every few months when he lost the trail, back to Tony so he could aim him in the right direction.

Tony didn’t blink at Steve’s increasing favours. He provided all the funds, created new algorithms for the search, researched the background of Bucky Barnes and the Winter Soldier program, kept the team together and safe during battle. He did not think about the fact that Steve had dropped everything at the mere mention of Bucky Barnes.

~~

Sifting through 70 years of torture and brainwashing protocol brought back his own nightmares. They blended together, making him remember the waterboarding, the yelling in his ears, the shock that lit him with painful intensity as car battery met with water and became electrocution.

Electrocution would turn into Barnes’ electroshock therapy and the hands holding down his arms would be bound to a chair. He would scream and scream, but there would be no sound. Gagged with the mouth guard, there would only be heartacheing, back-breaking, soul-shattering pain and that black hole of silence.

Once again, sleeping wasn’t the most successful experiment so far, but at least when he pushed himself far enough his body took over and knocked him out. He would catch a precious few hours before the nightmares came to say hi and then he would wake up with the trapped screams in his throat and get back to work.

It was like an alarm clock.

Even as he adjusted to his new normal, life decided to be the everlasting gift that it was and exposed a buried video from December 16th, 1991.

He threw up the first time he saw it, the image of Bucky Barnes killing Howard playing in his head over and over against the soundtrack of his mother having the life choked out of her.

Then he watched it obsessively, disturbed by finally seeing his parents after so many years with none of the accompanying music that made it feel like them. If he didn’t recognize their faces and voices, he could almost fool himself that it was strangers, people he didn’t know that wouldn’t make him feel grief and anger and sadness and every other negative emotion under the sun.

The one bare comfort he got out of it was that the main thing that Howard thought of as he was dying was helping Maria. Maybe he wasn’t such a heartless bastard after all.

He was still dead though.

~~

He decided he wasn’t going to tell Steve, continuing to update him on the Winter Soldier’s movements and seeing him off to places unknown as scheduled.

He was so wrapped in the process of finding the man that he forgot what actually was supposed to happen when they found him. Until Steve landed the Quinjet on the Tower’s pad and out walked him and James Buchanan Barnes following like a dark, solemn shadow.

Tony locked down the lab immediately, bending over his knees as he struggled to breathe and remember what he’d been trying to convince himself of: Barnes was separate from the person responsible for the murder of his parents, that that sin lay at the Winter Soldier’s feet and the man had been tortured and had his memory and his very self wiped away like condensation on glass.

He didn’t come out of the lab for three days.

~~

Tony was being an absolute creep and watching James Barnes through the safety of JARVIS’ many, many eyes in the sky. Barnes was subdued most of the time, always scanning the room as if he expected to be attacked at any moment and stiffening any time anyone touched him, even Steve.

But even as Steve’s face fell every time Barnes pulled away, Barnes’ face was impassive, set in a blank mask that said nothing of how he was feeling. It was as if he had no emotion at all. He watched everyone, and from where he was sequestered away, Tony watched him.

He decided to attempt his escape in the middle of the night when no one would see him. His stomach had started to cannibalize itself and all he had left was a moldy piece of bread. Tony wasn’t desperate enough to sink to that yet.

Peeking down from the elevator and seeing the lights off in the kitchen, he crept forward as carefully as he could while listening for any sounds of music or movement. When he heard nothing, he gave up on his Mission Impossible moment and strode into the kitchen, heading straight for the coffee pot.

The magic mix successfully brewing, he opened the fridge and started rummaging through the leftovers. Clint would be pissed that he’s taking the last of the Thai food, but Tony wasn’t worried. Thor was the only one you looked out for when stealing food, Tony didn’t even dare look in the direction of his PopTarts.

Popping the food in the microwave to reheat, he took the time when he was waiting to scrub some of the grease caked on his hands. He didn’t even remember how those got there.

“So you’re Tony Stark.”

Yelping, Tony whipped around to be confronted with one James Buchanan Barnes, shock and disbelief radiating through his core.

Holy shit, this motherfucker is Silent too.

~~

Tony and Barnes stared at each other a long moment. Tony because he was trying to wrap his mind around two impossibly Silent people and Barnes because he just didn’t care to end it.

Packaging up his shock to deal with later, Tony plastered a welcoming grin on his face. “Sergeant Barnes, well aren’t you a sight for sore eyes.”

Barnes forehead creased at Tony’s flirtatious tone, not responding even as he watched him. Tony was unnerved by the intensity of his attention, but he covered that with babble.

“I hope you’ve been having a wonderful stay here at Chez Stark, has Steve given you the grand tour yet?”

“I didn’t think you wanted me here, seeing as you’ve been avoiding me.” Barnes folded his arms across his chest, gaze still pinned on Tony.

“No, you misunderstand,” Tony waved off the accusations. “I’ve just been busy with a few very important projects—of which I would tell you about but then I’d have to kill you.”

Barnes gave him a once over sceptically. “I am absolutely sure I can take you.”

“Is that a diss?” Tony responded, astonished. “Do you actually have a sense of humour buried under all those scowly eyebrows, Robocop?”

Barnes shrugged succinctly.

“Ah, I see, a man of few words. Okay, Snowflake I’ll have you know that if I had the suit on, your ass would be kicked three ways to Sunday.”

“Maybe I’m too old for generation, but when people said that when I came from, you actually needed the ability to back up those words, Shortstuff.”

Tony let out an insulted squawk. “I am not short.”

Barnes raised a brow and Tony could almost hear the “Really?” Reaching behind him for Tony’s coffee cup, he offered it for Tony to take, only to pull it back and hoist it above his head the moment Tony reached out. Lunging for it, Tony came up short and ended up banging his knee on the bottom counter door on the way down.

“What are you, five?” Tony retorted scathingly, glaring when he caught the sound of Barnes’ snort. In response, the man just handed Tony his coffee without fuss, before pushing him into a chair at the table. Grabbing the food from the microwave, he put it on a plate in front of Tony with a quiet order, “Eat.”

Suddenly remembering that he was ravenous, Tony arrowed in on his (stolen) food, groaning happily when spices exploded on his tongue. Yea, free food really was the best.

“You know, you aren’t half bad Barnes,” Tony complimented as he finished up, wiping his face and putting his dishes in the sink.

“Is that something you decided right now?” Barnes paused and Tony felt the air on the back of his neck prickle. “Or is that what you decided after watching me on your cameras for three days?”

Tony debated whether to deny it or not, raising an innocently curious eyebrow when he decided that a silent response was the best response.

“I could hear the whir of the cameras adjusting on me when I came into the room.”

“How the hell did you hear something as soft as that?”

Barnes just tapped his ear casually, as if being able to hear near soundless noises even in a room full of people was an everyday occurrence.

“I wondered why you would want to keep an eye on me even when going to such lengths to avoid me. The only reason I can come up with is that you know I killed Howard and Maria Stark.” At this confession, emotion flashed across Barnes’ face too fast for Tony to read, like the bare glimpse of silvery fish in water.

Tony flinched at the confirmation, at the reminder of what he had spent the last three days struggling to reconcile with. Taking a breath, he reminded himself of the other videos he had seen in his search for Barnes, the ones that revealed the extent that James Buchanan Barnes’ personality had been wiped away to become the Winter Soldier. He had felt connected to this man, and Tony pulled on those memories of connection, trying to let those emotions guide him.

“It wasn’t you, it was the Winter Soldier. You had no choice.” It sounded rehearsed, like Tony was just trying to convince himself of his own words and it wasn’t working, not on him and not on Barnes.

“Mr. Stark—”

“—was my father. And your friend.” Tony let out a sigh, giving up on trying to say the right thing and just going for the truth. “He was your friend, someone you knew and someone who knew you. I watched the video, listened to the way he greeted you a million times. He was happy to see you Sergeant Barnes, recognizing you even after all those years and relieved to see you alive and well. And that more than anything says that the man you were that day was not the man that my father had known, was not a man you chose to be. You were robbed of your choice that day, and many more days before and after that and I can’t blame you for things that were beyond your ability to control.”

Tony extended his hand. “But we both are in control of this situation right now, Sergeant Barnes and I choose to forgive you. But you also have to make the choice to forgive yourself.”

Barnes shook his head in a negative immediately and made no move to take Tony’s hand.

“It won’t be easy—trust me, you’re talking to the Merchant of Death here and I committed my sins fully in control of my decisions, but you have to at least be willing.”

Barnes scrutinized him for a long minute before slowly, hesitantly grasping Tony’s hand with his own and shaking firmly.

“Sergeant Barnes, it’s good to finally meet you. Welcome home.”

“Thank you, Tony. Call me Bucky.”

~~

With the dreaded confrontation out of the way, Bucky became a regular visitor to the lab, sometimes with Steve and sometimes not but when they did come together, they didn’t interact that much, all of their focus on being with Tony.

If Tony had been spoiled before with Steve’s attention, now he was downright rotten. He got used to Steve reclaiming his spot on the couch to draw or call out questions as Bucky and Tony ran around conducting fun (explosive and dangerous) experiments with the arm.

Sometimes Bucky came alone when Steve was out or when things turned bad. He never begrudged Tony for not always noticing him at first, playing with the robots until Tony was ready. Then they would sit next to each other and they would drink the expensive Turkish coffee Bucky would bring in a thermos and he would talk about all the things he didn’t feel ready to share with Steve.

Bucky would bring out the broken parts of him he only felt safe enough to entrust to Tony and Tony was listen and sometimes entrust his nightmares to Bucky.

Sitting with the shattered pieces of their selves around them, Tony realized that he had fallen in love with Bucky Barnes.

[marcoacesabo]

Date night

Happy birthday @inaweofdiana ! You lovely person deserve lovely domestic fluff and a songfic so here it is. Thank you for being so amazing and kind! Let’s see if anyone can guess this song?

What can I do for you? What can I do that no one else can do?

 Sabo eagerly flipped through his latest computer documents, searching for a new story he would share with his lovers. He hasn’t had much time to finish a lot of stories these past few weeks but he managed to squeeze in three or so since the last time they had their special nights.  

It’s not going to be a lot, and all of the newest writings are under his usual word count but they will have to do instead of not bringing anything.

 He stumbles across one that involves treasure hunting and dragons, grinning as he re-reads the words. Ace would like this, he’s always been one to prefer fantasy than anything else. Sabo fixes some mistakes he spots, editing with a critical eye before hitting print.

 As the machine does it’s work, humming and buzzing on his right the blond quickly clicks on another document reading the contents.

 It’s one of his bests, one he wrote while he couldn’t sleep a few days back and it’s emotionally raw with his doubts and fear blending into the characters he created. Sabo’s eyes tear up as he reads the last few words, and he dismisses sharing this. 

He’s about to click out when he reads the next action through his tears, pausing as the scene comes to life. It’s not well enough to show yet but if he were to come back to in a few days when he’s less affected by it….

 Sabo makes a note about revising this particular piece in his agenda before moving on, wondering what else he should pick. There is one that is about soulmates- cliche as can be- one about animals becoming human- more of a child’s tale than anything else- and finally one about a young man during the 100-year Void war.  

 Sabo pauses on the last one, reading his side notes and grinding as the words. It’s realistic, filled with grief and hope for the ending of the war and the return of the main character’s  brother from the front lines. 

He stopped around the time the man gets drafted, shocked out of his mind and tries to run. It’s historically accurate even though the following events are less than favorable for him.

 A story like this will make Marco happy, the history nerd that he is.It’s not finished by any means but he still has time to get it at least wrapped up the scene. Sabo cracks his knuckles getting to work wondering what his lovers are doing to prepare for tonight similarly.

What can I do for you? What can I do for you?

 A few hours later he leans back in his office chair sighing as the words blur before him. It took longer than he thought, one part just not working with him at all, but he finally has the place he wants to leave the person at. It’s a perfect opening ending if he chooses to leave it that way and he nods satisfied.

The actual writing wasn’t that hard for him. It was the editing process where he went back to fix things that took much much longer. Sabo always thought to create plots and incorporating facts wasn’t hard it was making them sound good in written form that was difficult.  

But now it’s ready, and after a quick glance at the clock wall, just in time to get home. He prints out the papers, adding a short message of “to my lovely Marco” at the top before leaning back.

A ding from his phone sounds above the humming of his old printer, causing Sabo to swing his head in that direction. On the screen a new text message flashes at him, Ace’s contact proudly glowing in the dim light.

 Babe, you better be ready to die coughing on spice tonight!

 Along with Ace’s message, a picture of a red soup is attached and just looking at it makes his throat burn. There will be no doubt that taking any form of bite from that will have him in tears.  

 Sabo really wishes he could handle his boyfriend's cooking but seeing as everything Ace makes is either smothered in chile or lemon it made it kinda hard to stomach. But if there was one thing Ace loved to do more than his work at the daycare it was cooking and because Sabo loved him he would eat it.

 Sending back a message about how he can’t wait to try some, Sabo packs up and gets into his car. Smiling at the multiple messages that Ace sends them most just being happy emoticons but a few of them are explanations for what they will be eating. He stops after Sabo explains he needs to drive now, and the last thing Ace says is that Marco is setting up for their night.

 Human man

You are so much fun,

I hadn't planned

On finding you quite this entertaining

 The drive home isn’t a long commute, he chooses to go through the backstreets that may add about ten minutes to his driving but it has fewer curves, less turns and fewer people too. It’s better in Sabo’s opinion to not have to swear at dumbass who refuse to use their blinkers, then get home faster.

 He plays his music on a level that’s just a tad bit off of going deaf and sings loudly to the lyrics. Since the air is warm enough for him to do it, he also rolls down the windows letting the wind pay with his wavy locks as he drives.

 It’s like every other time he’s driven home and yet not. Something about it feels good, feels nice and Sabo can’t stop smiling.  Maybe it has to do with knowing what waits for him at home when he gets there.

 I like your band (Whoo!)

And I like your song

 A love song starts to play as he thinks of Ace’s cooking, of his pages of stories and of Marco’s warm hugs, that will be his home for a few hours tonight. He sings along as loudly as he can, remember the day Marco got him and Ace perform a video with him and his then band, consisting of Thatch and Haruta.

 It was before they started dating before Ace knew how much Marco meant to them and in a jealous phase started dancing with Sabo while the other blond his guitar solo. He was so cute then.

 His own voice sings the lyrics, mixing with his present one as Sabo drives thinking of their time spent together since then. He loves hearing the songs even years later but this one will always be his favorite.  

 I like the way

Human beings play

I like playin' along

Oh-oh-oh-oh whoa-oh

The light barely covers the sky by the time he arrives home, and Sabo continues humming the song even as he turns off his car. He grabs his bag, making sure to put the emergency break up, seeing as their home is on a slight curve of the hill. He locks his car smiling at the sky that has to turn into warm hues of red, pink and purple.

 Still humming he walks up the pathway leading to their white porch, swinging the keys around a finger as he goes. He stops just at the door, putting the one key that has a skull as the main difference of the other smaller less important ones, before swinging the door open.

 Instantly he is hit with a strong smell of spice, warmth and bubbling of a hot pot. It smells like home.  Walking through the front door makes his heart swell, forcing him to take a minute and just observe the interior.

 From where he is standing he can see through the little window of the kitchen and bar, in it Ace is dancing while mixing something, swinging his hips and hand side to side. He isn’t wearing a shirt- then again when is Ace when he’s home?- and he’s wearing those painfully bright flame pattern pajamas pants that are just bagging enough to hand loosely around his hips.

 Marco is in the living room placing pillows and blankets on a mattress.It’s probably the one from their room, a nice king size, and it is starting to resemble a nest more than anything. But that’s always been something his blond lover had a guilty habit of doing. He’s far too weak to being smothered in fluffy pillows and his boyfriends at each of his sides.

 Marco looks up at him smiling that special smile he does when he looks at him or Sabo. He walks towards him, arms spread open for a hug, one that the blond jumps into kissing his lips in a quick greeting.   “Welcome home Love yoi.”   

 Sabo smiles placing a quick peck on his lips again while breathing  “Thank you, Honey.”

 He grins at Marco’s frown- he hates being called honey, and it’s adorable to watch him pout about it. Before he can make a comment about it  Ace throws an excited  “Sabo’s home, our date night can start!”  

 The blonds turn to find the raven hair man wiping his hands on a rag an eager smile on his face  “The soup will be ready in a few minutes. Can Sabo read us some stories in the meantime?”

 Excitement bubbles in Sabo’s stomach, but he gives Marco a quick glance asking for his opinion on the matter. The older man leans down to kiss Ace’s nose, causing the other man to giggle before leading them to his nest.  “Of course he can. Then I can play a song or too yoi.”  

 What can I do for you?

What can I do that no one else can do?

What can I do for you?

What can I do for you?

“I love you,” Sabo mumbles against their skin later in the night, Ace snoring softly into his neck and Marco’s hand intertwined with his.

[abhilasha05]

Gajar K Halwa

A warm bowl of Gajar ka Halwa brings in more than the tiding memories of taste and flavors of this sweet, cardamom flavored confection. It is a wave emotions of a mother daughter relation, and close binding times which might have felt to be just a part of the chore in a day then, but feels very different now.

All I feel like doing right now is putting  those perfect moments in writing; simple things, but not there anymore – times of laughter, as I picked through the shredded carrots, stuffing some juicy fistfuls in my mouth and talked with ma of this and that. We took turns shredding and grating the carrots, ma and me.

I do not remember what we talked of. It must have been something trivial; school, and friends. The chores that we did together matter much more now than it did some twenty some years back. It is the glimpses of these little things in life that makes food all the more special; not just the tradition, the spices, the nutty bites that blends with the tenderly cooked carrots, but ma’s smile, the way she stirred the halwa or peeled the nuts, the love and the unseen trickling effect of the stories of the generations of the past and may be more to come.

Being in a mom’s role now, I realize through my intertwined memories how special the little moments are. A few conversations, a little joke, watching a sunset together, or wetting our feet as the waves dances back and forth in glee, as the toes squirm with the sand between them are all going to be memories someday – life is transient, a drop in this eternal vastness.

Gajar ka Halwa could be a year round dessert loved by all, but the carrots are fresh as the temperature cools down; starting from the month of October, until the end of winter.

The beginning of the autumn also means stepping in to a thread  of religious festivals in India and new beginnings. We are in the midst of celebrating Navratri and Durga Pooja, during this time and looking forward to Diwali. I extend my warmest wishes to all my readers and my friends.

The religious festivals in India, and mostly the time of Diwali and the peak winter in December and January are the times when this Halwa is at its best – warm in a bowl, warming the fingers that wraps around it on a wintry night and adding a glow to the hearts putting a smile and cheer on every face.

Gajar ka Halwa (Carrot Halwa)

Ingredients: (serves 4-6)

1 lb carrots, washed and chopped in small pieces or coarsely grated  or shredded

3 tablespoon ghee + 1 tablespoon ghee

3/4 cup sugar (or to taste)

10 small green cardamom, shell removed and the seeds finely powdered

2 cups milk (or 1 cup milk + 1/2 cup condensed milk)

1/4 Khoya/Solidified Milk* (Optional)

a good pinch of saffron (optional)

1/2 cup nuts, (I have used almonds, but a mix of almond and cashews may be used too) + more for garnish

2 tablespoons golden raisins or chopped dates (optional)

[greatdrams]

10 Essential Whiskies Everyone Should Try

There are plenty of whiskies on the market today.  But the question that faces those new to the whisky world is where to start?  Where does one begin to look when first starting out on the whisky journey?  While there may be no definitive answer, here is the GreatDrams 10 Essential Whiskies Everyone Should Try...

1.    Talisker 10 Year Old

The Talisker 10 Year Old is a brilliant single malt, incorporating a rich fruitiness with a peaty tang to finish it.  It is a good place to start drinking whisky as it has so many obvious and great characteristics, presenting the perfect embodiment of peated malt.  It opens with a citrus and fresh fruit burst, a raisin-like sweetness that moves into a great seaside, peat smoked briskness, a heralding to its Isle of Skye coastal home.  The Talisker 10 Year Old is also a member of the Diageo Classic Malts selection, proof that it is not only a great single malt, but also a well renowned Scotch in its own right.

Buy here.

  2.    Glenmorangie Original

A true classic, the Glenmorangie Original, a 10 year old single malt, is a great whisky for anybody looking to try a dram for the first time, or those of us who are well seasoned in whisky drinking.  It is delicate and presents an excitingly complex palate.  Highlighted throughout with notes of soft, creamy vanilla, this is uplifted by the floral and fruity notes that entwine throughout this whisky.  The Glenmorangie presents a contrast to peated, smoky whiskies with its bold sweet and flowery flavours.  This is definitely worth a taste if you’re new to whisky and remains a definitive malt for those who have been dramming for years.

Buy here.

  3.    Johnnie Walker Red

The biggest selling Scotch blend on the market, Johnnie Walker Red Label is a must try for all whisky drinkers, even if its just to see what all the hype is about.  The Red Label brings together fruit and spices that perfectly compliment each other and ahas a full and hearty palate.  Opening with spicy cinnamon and pepper overtones, these are met with pear and apple notes that serve to enhance each other, and like the other Johnnie Walker blends, the Red label has a smoky finish.  Johnnie Walker has a lot to live up to and the history and perfection of this company and their blends is perfectly summed up in their famous Red Label.

Buy here.

  4.    Laphroaig 10 Year Old

Laphroaig is a malt that epitomises a good whisky.  It is well renowned and respected in the whisky world and the Laphroaig 10 Year Old is one of the distilleries finest malts.  From the very beginning of tasting the 10 Year Old, you are hit with an explosion of smoke.  It is full bodied and packs a delicious punch.  Like the Talisker, it harkens towards its coastal home with hints of seaweed piquing the taste buds, a saltiness that is soon followed by a delightful vanilla sweetness.  This is a brilliant Scotch with a beautiful palate that invites the drinker to analyse it and love it!

Buy here.

  5.    Glenfiddich 12 Year Old

The Glenfiddich 12 Year Old is a true legend amongst whisky enthusiasts as well as being the best selling single malt in the world, a true testament to its brilliance.  One of the best Speyside malts, the Glenfiddich 12 Year Old presents all the characteristics of a malt from this region.  It is fruity and uplifting to begin with, with s subtlety of pear in its flavour.  This fruitiness develops in a creamy sweetness with hints of butterscotch and malt flavours that complement the fruits that frame them.  If you’ve never had a dram of Glenfiddich 12 Year Old, then I highly suggest you do right now!

Buy here.

  6.    Macallan 12 Year Old - £74.00

The Macallan distillery produces some of the best whisky available and the 12 Year Old itself is a very highly respected single malt.  The word that epitomises the Macallan 12 is fruit.  From the very moment it hits your tongue, to the second it slides down your throat, the 12 Year Old is a taste sensation of dried fruit and saccharine dreams.  It combines a delicate fruitiness with a honeyed and floral sweetness that intertwines with the rich oak and spice that can be found in the finish.  The Macallan 12 Year Old is a perfect contrast to some of the smokier malts available and is definitely worth investing in.

Buy here.

  7.    Monkey Shoulder - £24.88

The term “Monkey Shoulder” has an interesting background that is embedded in the making of Scotch.  When workmen had to work a long shift turning the malting barley, the constant pulling of the shoulders would make their arms hang a bit like that of a monkey, and so the phrase “Monkey Shoulder” was born.  The blend itself is made from three Speyside malts that are married together in a marrying tun from anywhere between three and six months.  The blend is then tasted by Monkey Shoulder’s Distillery Master, who ensures that it is smooth enough to be bottled.  Monkey Shoulder has vanilla tones throughout that are perfectly contrasted with hints of spice.

Buy here.

  8.    Highland Park 18 Year Old - £86.77

Although it may not be the biggest seller on the market, the Highland Park 18 is one the best whiskies available and is loved by those in the industry itself.  It combines a rich woodiness with a peated smoke that both work perfectly to present a natural and earthy flavour.  This full-bodied malt then offers up a palate of sweet honey alongside more peaty goodness to marry all the flavours together in harmony.  Running alongside the sweet peated overtones of this malt are aromatic toffee notes that perk up the flavour and add a certain softness to the flavour.  If you are seeking to indulge more in the world of whisky and all the treats it has to offer, then the Highland Park 18 Year Old is the perfect introduction into the industry’s favourties.

Buy here.

  9.    Glenlivet 15 Year old - £37.34

The Glenlivet Distillery is one of the most famous in the world and is highly regarded amongst the distilleries in Scotland.  The malt that is made here lives up to this standard and the 15 Year Old is one of the finest Scotches available.  Matured in French oak, the 15 Year Old is rich and aromatic.  Its flavours are spicy and nutty, with hints of cinnamon and almonds, providing a dull but sensuous base for the fruity, buttery palate to develop fully.  This is the perfect whisky to buy if you are seeking to discover truly good scotch and is the best introduction to a distillery that lives up to its legend.

Buy here.

  10.  Ballantine’s 17 Year Old - £53.54

The only other blend on the list, Ballantine’s 17 Year Old is a fine whisky.  It is a mix of malt and grain whiskies from all over Scotland and marries together some of the biggest flavours available.  In the nose it presents sweet vanilla alongside a vibrant smoke that are the perfect introduction for a beautifully complex palate.  The taste incorporates the sweetness of honey, as well as furthering the vanilla undertones, and issues up a salty liquorice bite at the end.  The 17 Year Old is full bodied and full of flavour and is the perfect whisky introduction for being both a good Scotch and a good blend.  This is definitely worth investing in.

Buy here.

Do you agree with our list? What would you add or remove from our 10 Essential Whiskies Everyone Should Try?

Photo credit: <a href="http://ift.tt/2mLfWpW">Bearfaced</a> via <a href="http://photopin.com">photopin</a> <a href="http://ift.tt/nZVAYA">cc</a>

The post 10 Essential Whiskies Everyone Should Try appeared first on GreatDrams.

from GreatDrams http://ift.tt/2mL3EOj Greg

[thecoroutfitters]

We all have that one family dish that we’re known for, the one that was passed down to us from our ancestors.

It may be a dip, or a cake, or your grandma’s meatloaf, but if I ask you what your favorite family recipe is, I almost guarantee something instantly comes to mind, and odds are good that we even have it committed to memory.

My family is full of cooks, though traditionally most of them are women.

My former father-in-law Max, on the other hand, probably taught me more about cooking than I ever learned from my family, because he taught me the WHYs of cooking, not just the hows. He taught me how to make all of my grandmothers’-and of course his-recipes come out right every time. Even if they don’t, I have a good idea of what happened.

So, which is MY favorite family recipe?

There’s no way that I can pick just one, so I asked many people across my various venues what they thought, and there were a few good old American recipes that just kept cropping up time after time. You can find some of them in my book, Forgotten Lessons of Yesterday.

But for now, in no particular order, here are the top recipes that I came up with.

Apple Pie

We would be absolutely remiss if we didn’t start with the one food that has a place at any holiday, picnic, or any other event where people gather to eat, drink, and be merry: apple pie!

There are about a million different variations on the recipe, but the traditional, lattice-work pie is the one that instantly jumps to mind.

I’m going to share three tips here that Max taught me for a flaky, fabulous crust – use very cold water, add a ½ tsp of vinegar to your water, and butter is king. My grandma used lard, back when it was readily available because they made it.

Many people turn to Crisco, which is fine, but lacks flavor and is hydrogenated. The flavor of butter is incredible and the texture is light and flakey.

Dough:

4 1/2 cups all-purpose flour

4 tsp. sugar

1/4 tsp. fine salt

1 ¾ stick cold butter, diced

1 large egg, lightly beaten with 2 tbsp. ice cold water

Filling:

2 tbsp. freshly squeezed lemon juice

3 lbs. baking apples like Golden Delicious or Granny Smith

2/3 cup sugar, plus more for sprinkling on the pie

1/2 stick unsalted butter

1/4 tsp. ground cinnamon

1/8 tsp. ground nutmeg

1 large egg, lightly beaten

Directions

To make the dough by hand:

Whisk together the flour, sugar and salt in a medium bowl. Using your fingers, work the butter into the dry ingredients until it resembles yellow cornmeal mixed with bean-size bits of butter. (If the flour/butter mixture gets warm, refrigerate it for 10 minutes before proceeding.)

Add the egg and stir the dough together with a fork or by hand in the bowl. If the dough is dry, sprinkle up to a tablespoon more of cold water over the mixture.

To make the dough in a food processor:

Pulse the flour, sugar and salt in a food processor fitted with the metal blade until combined. Add the butter and pulse until it resembles yellow cornmeal mixed with bean-size bits of butter, about 10 times.

Add the egg and pulse 1 to 2 times; don’t let the dough form into a ball in the machine. (If the dough is very dry, add up to a tablespoon more of cold water.) Remove the bowl from the machine, remove the blade and bring the dough together by hand.

Form the dough into a flat circle, wrap in plastic wrap, and refrigerate until thoroughly chilled, at least 1 hour.

For the filling:

Put the lemon juice in a medium bowl. Peel, halve and core the apples. Cut each half into 4 wedges. Toss the apple with the lemon juice. Add the sugar and toss to combine evenly.

Melt the butter over medium-high heat in a large skillet. Add the apples and cook, stirring, until the sugar dissolves and the mixture begins to simmer, about 2 minutes. Cover, reduce the heat to medium-low and cook until the apples soften and release most of their juices, about 7 minutes.

Strain the apples in a colander over a medium bowl to catch all the juice. Shake the colander to get as much liquid as possible. Return the juices to the skillet, and simmer over medium heat until thickened and lightly caramelized, about 10 minutes.

Toss the apples with the reduced juice and spices in a medium bowl. Set aside to cool completely. (This filling can be made up to 2 days ahead and refrigerated or canned, or frozen for up to 6 months.)

To assemble the pie:

Cut the dough in half. On a lightly floured surface, roll each half into a circle 11 to 12 inches wide. Layer the dough between pieces of parchment or wax paper on a baking sheet and refrigerate for at least 10 minutes.

Line the bottom of a 9-inch pie pan with one of the discs of dough, and trim it so it lays about 1/2 inch beyond the edge of the pan. Add the apple filling to the pan.

Cut the second round into 1/2-inch thick strips. Lay strips of dough, evenly spaced, across the entire pie. Weave more strips of dough perpendicular through the previous strips to make a lattice or basket weave design across the entire pie. Trim the excess ends from the strips of dough.

Pinch the bottom crust edge and lattice edge together, and flute the edge as desired. Make sure that the lattice is closed around the edges so that the filling doesn’t boil out. Brush the surface of the dough with egg and then sprinkle with sugar. Refrigerate for at least 30 minutes.

Bake the pie on the preheated baking sheet until the crust is golden, 50 to 60 minutes. Cool on a rack for at least 3 hours before serving. The pie keeps well at room temperature (covered) for 24 hours, or refrigerated for up to 4 days.Discover the golden days’ practice for getting all you can eat food without buying from the supermarket!

  Pot Roast

America is a place where nationalities blend and merge to create a new, unique set of ideals and goals. As such, our recipes are a beautiful hodge-podge of different ethnicities, intertwined and adjusted to make them as American as we are. There’s probably nothing that represents that better than the good old pot roast!

Like every other recipe on the list, there are a million variations, but here’s mine.

3-5 lb. chuck roast

2 medium onions

2 pounds baby carrots

5 medium potatoes

1 tbsp. salt

2 tsp. black pepper

2 tsp Italian seasoning

1 tbsp. olive oil

Preheat oven to 275 degrees. Heat olive oil in your Dutch oven on medium heat and sear each side of the roast. Remove roast. Add onions and sear on each side. Remove and do the same with the carrots. Remove; pour in 3 -4 cups water.

Scrape all of the deliciousness off the bottom, then add the roast and top with the onions and carrots. Sprinkle the seasonings over the top and around the water.  Put the lid on the Dutch oven and bake for an hour per pound.

Meatloaf (or amazing meatballs!)

3 lbs. ground beef

3 eggs

1 cup oatmeal

½ cup ketchup

3 tbsp. mustard

1 1/2 tbsp. Italian seasoning

2 tsp. salt

2 tsp. black pepper

1 tsp. onion powder

1 tsp. garlic powder

This one’s easy. Preheat oven to 325 degrees. Combine everything in a bowl. If it’s a little sloppy, add a bit more oats. If it’s too dry, add a bit more ketchup. You want to be moist enough to form into a loaf but not so wet that it sticks to your hands.

Ideally, you should be able to form it into a meatball that’s a little mushy. Press into a loaf pan or square iron skillet. Bake for 1 ½-2 hours until meat thermometer reads 160 degrees.

Fried Chicken

Picnics and Sunday dinners all across the South wouldn’t be the same without fried chicken. It’s crispy, crunchy, and oh-so-juicy!

Chicken:

8 serving pieces chicken, light or dark meat

2 cups milk or buttermilk

2 tsp. salt

2-3 cups peanut oil, more if needed

1 tsp. black pepper

2 cups all-purpose flour

Put oil in a large skillet (you want about an inch) and heat to 375 degrees. You’ll know it’s hot when you toss in a bit of flour and it sizzles. While your oil is heating, combine all dry ingredients in a medium bowl, and place the milk in another.

Dredge the chicken through the milk then through the flour mixture so that it’s well-coated. Drop gently into the oil. You’ll hear it sizzle. When it stops sizzling and is brown on one side, turn it and cook it on the other side.

When it quits sizzling, it’s done. Drain on paper towels and enjoy.

Buttery, Flakey Biscuits

I’m from the South, but biscuits are eaten in all parts of the south. Biscuits were a staple food for our ancestors and this recipe has been passed down to me via my father-in-law. The important part about keeping your biscuits light is to knead them only enough to combine them. Unlike bread, the more you knead biscuits, the tougher they get.

2 cups all-purpose flour

4 teaspoons baking powder

3 teaspoons sugar

1/2 teaspoon salt

1 stick cold butter (1/2 cup) cut into eighths

1 large egg

2/3 cup 2% milk

Preheat oven to 450 degrees. Combine all of the dry ingredients then cut the butter in until you have coarse crumbs, with no chunks bigger than a pea. The goal is to incorporate the butter throughout the flour. Then whisk together the milk and egg and add to the flour. Stir to combine, then knead no more than necessary to make it smooth.

Roll it out to about ½ inch thick and cut with a biscuit cutter or water glass. Place in a greased baking dish so that they’re touching a bit and bake 5-10 minutes or until golden brown. Serve piping hot!

If the article you’re reading provides less than you need about these old food habits, grab my book – Forgotten Lessons of Yesterday – for more!

Now that I’ve shared my favorite recipes with you, return the love! What’s that one recipe that’s been handed down through the generation in your family?

Let us know in the comments section below.

This article has been written by Theresa Crouse for Survivopedia.

from Survivopedia Don't forget to visit the store and pick up some gear at The COR Outfitters. How prepared are you for emergencies? #SurvivalFirestarter #SurvivalBugOutBackpack #PrepperSurvivalPack #SHTFGear #SHTFBag