#and then put the rest of the jar with the other spices and things so it's not taking up so much counter space

[blujayonthewing]

heartbreaking: you found exactly the kind of thing you had a vague notion about wanting but it's a rare antique and costs One Thousand Dollars

[naffeclipse]

Lone Mistletoe

Reader x Rich!Sun & Moon

Commission Info

This request was made by the darling @deliasmoothie for a little Christmas date centered around her Rich Boys AU and a reader who owns a bakery! After a late closing, the reader gets a visit from millionaire heirs Sun and Moon and a reminder that they have a very special evening planned. The lovely artwork is done by @deliasmoothie as well! Enjoy, and Merry Christmas!

———

You’re late.

You scramble to put away the dough that will rise softly through the night in the storage area. The clatter of baking sheets echoes over the faint jingle of Christmas music which plays in the entrance of the bakery. Gathering bags of empty flour that were left undisposed, you throw those into giant waste bins and rush to clean off counter tops before muttering under your breath that the front needs to be swept lest customers enter tomorrow morning and find dirty floors.

A glance to the clock quickens your already frantic heart rate. You should already be out the door, dressed for a fine night of dining and whatever plans your dates may have. Oh, you’re going to be disappointing.

A nervous perspirant begins under your pits as you frantically fly through closing chores. Your employees would usually be more than happy to finish everything up without you, but one called out for the day citing a family emergency, and the other needed to go home early for the sake of a sick child. You are left to stack up the jars of ginger spice and vanilla used in gingerbread men and Christmas cookies respectfully and set them where they belong. 

The minutes turn into half an hour. You’re going to melt into a puddle on the floor but you won’t allow another mess to be made when you just finished sweeping. Snagging your phone after leaning the broom against the wall, you begin punching in a quick text of explanation and apologies when the front door opens with a soft jingle from the welcome bell. 

You curse under your breath. You should have locked it by now if your mind wasn’t cutting through the checklist of things needing to be done.

“I’m sorry,” you call out as you walk to the counter. “We’re closed—”

You stop short, the breath caught in your throat.

Two handsome animatronics stand in the lobby of your bakery. Among the Christmas decor of candy canes stuck to the window and boughs of holly hanging along the walls, they stand in glamor and confidence.

One animatronic sports a crown of sun rays around his head, sharp and brightly yellow, with a grin to match. His pale blue optics lack the sunglasses he would so often sport during summer. He wears a stylish long coat of red, with a white shirt sporting a high collar, and brown slacks, all done in a bold and daring style. The other holds a crescent marking upon his face, half silver, half dark, with a deep blue nightcap trailing down his back decorated in stars. He dons a black coat, simple yet striking, and a deep blue turtleneck sweater and dark trousers. They share matching figures of lithe limbs and slender waists, their clothes accenting every handsome part of who they are.

Your dates.

Most importantly, the heirs of a national billion-dollar company. 

“Sweetie pie?” Sun laughs with equal affection and concern. His blue eyes are wide upon you. “Are you alright?”

Your hand immediately flies to your hair. It is a mess of wisps and strands escaping from the messy bun you had it pinned into today. 

Moon looks around the shop, his brow quizzical, as if searching for a threat before his gaze rests on you. His expression softens. 

“Sun, Moon? What are you two doing here?” Your attention slips past them to the open windows. You quickly rush forward. They step apart to let you fly between them, and watch as you quickly yank down the blinds and lock the front door. 

They can’t be seen here. Your bakery is small, hardly a blip on the map, and people don’t know who the heirs are dating—though the tabloids have speculated who their newest beau may be. 

You made it clear to Sun and Moon when they first asked you out for a little coffee date over this very same counter that you would go with them because you enjoy their company, not the names they carry nor the fortune they hold. The public, however, will assume the worst: you’re in it to make your bakery known and catch more sales. Or perhaps, the opposite. The heirs are lording over you with their black credit cards, enticing you into their demands. 

Neither is true. Regardless, you don’t want them spotted here with you, alone.

You turn around and huff a breath, pushing a wisp of hair back from your face.

“Cinnamonroll, you are late for dinner, and the restaurant is only a few blocks from here.” Moon steps forward, his hands reaching for you. His pale pupils track you with a gentle study. “We were concerned.”

You keep trying to power walk back behind the counter but another set of arms stop you gently.

“Sweetie pie, breathe for a moment.” Sun stands over you. His hands hold your arms gently, keeping you in place. “It’s alright. They’re not going to withdraw our reservation.”

He gently tucks a strand of hair behind your ear. You flush, bowing your head slightly. This was not how the evening was supposed to go.

“I’m sorry.” You confess what happened throughout the day, losing your employees one by one until you were left to close. 

“Do you need any help?” Moon steps closer. He brushes a hand against your cheek. When he draws his touch back, you find pale flour on the tips of his silver digits. His grin is mischievous but sweet when he chuckles. “Messy little treat, aren’t you?”

A deep pink fills your face as your heart swoons within you.

“No, no,” you shake your head fiercely, “I mean—I’m done, I just… Can you give me a few minutes to get ready?”

“Of course,” they answer in unison.

You look between both of them, a sweetness filling your mouth as your shoulders lower in relief. You dust your hands together. With that, you fly behind the counter and to the upper floor where your apartment is located. 

Dinner is waiting.

*

Dinner is, as always, incredible. You’re not sure how Sun and Moon find the most delicious—and expensive—restaurants but they manage to surprise you each and every time. Of course, you almost fall out of your chair when the bill is brought and Sun flips out a sleek, black credit card without glancing at the numbers to resume asking about your thoughts on the holiday season—and how you would like to spend it. Moon in the same fashion orders a few desserts for you to try at your leisure while candlelight softly flickered over the table.

Now, you walk softly between them, both of your hands occupied by long and large digits cradling your gloved hands. The air nips at your nose. Snow litters the park plaza as around you, people skate on an ice rink set before a towering Christmas tree and couples huddle close together, sipping hot cocoa.

You have to crank your neck back to take in the majestic glow and glitter of the decorated tree in the pitch black evening. Lights twinkle like starlight and golden garland wraps its thick, evergreen limbs. Tinsel shines like silver against its emerald dark hue. Ornaments, large and painted in rich blues, greens, and reds, hang to the edges.

Sun and Moon shelter you in their warmth. Their coats, made of fine material with brand names that look far too French and expensive to be something you ever hope to possess, drape against you. Sun lifts your hand to his mouth and kisses your knuckles. Moon rubs your palm, ensuring you keep warm despite the frigid night.

To your relief, no one seems to notice them. Of course, it helps that you and your dates are swallowed up in scarfs and hats, but you find yourself prickling with slight anxiety while glancing around. It’s the same nervousness that has plagued you throughout the entire evening.

You feel your best when you’re alone with Sun and Moon, with no eyes upon you, judging and deeming what is right and what is wrong. All you know is that it feels good when you hear them laugh or they ask you how another busy day was at the bakery. 

That should be all that matters, but your self-conscious fears are a niggling thing in the back of your mind.

Moon shares a glance with Sun, who gives a slight nod. He then suggests taking a walk further down the park, where there are less people gathering under the light of the tree and watching the ice skaters.

You’re more than happy to.

A few little shops are sprinkled along the path turning deeper into the snowy covered park. Moon asks if you would like hot cocoa or a new pair of ice skates. You politely decline. Sun says they might need to buy you a new coat since you’re shivering so much, but again, you shake your head with a smile.

They like to give. This is not a manner of ego and flaunting, but a manner of kindness, you’ve learned. 

The soft silence is muffled by the white frost decorating the ground. Moon and Sun clutch your hands a little tighter whenever patches of ice pop up along the sidewalk. In the peace and stillness, your eyes fall upon a snow-white arch down the path you take. Hung in the center of it, tied with red ribbon, is mistletoe. 

Your ears warm despite the sub-zero temperatures. Glancing between your dates, you nervously rub at their fingers. Sun and Moon slow, their eyes landing on the very same plant.

“There is something we can give you, sweetie pie,” Sun declares as he begins to stride forward, pulling you along with him.

“Oh, Sun,” you try to protest while struggling to hide your flustered tone. “What if someone sees?”

“It’s only us, cinnamon roll,” Moon rolls low over his tongue. “Don’t worry.”

You blush fiercely. Reaching the white arch, Sun and Moon stop. Your heart beats heavy within you while softly, Sun face faces you. Moon slips behind you, his touch resting on your hips. You begin to warm despite the chill, afraid you look pink from head to toe. 

You trust them both. A certainty clings to you that you are safe in the quiet of the night and the cold of the snow so long as you have them.

Sun cups your cheek in his palm. His gaze glimmers gently while he leans in closer. You find his hand and tuck it over your heart, clinging to his fingers as if you’re afraid to lose him. Maybe you are. 

But every thought within you fades when his lips touch yours. He pushes gently into your affection. A slow pull of his mouth teases you before he returns to reassure you that he is here to stay. You taste him. Confidence and want burn together in how he effortlessly strokes your cheek and tilts your head slightly in his soft fervor.

Pulling back, he sighs while brushing his thumb over your lips. You hold his gaze despite the heat in your cheeks.

His hands rest on your shoulders. Moon, however, gently twists your hips until you’re facing him. Sun’s hands remain on you, falling down your spine. 

Moon’s gaze is warm and heated in the dark. Under the mistletoe, he leans in closely as he takes your chin in his hand. Head tilted up slightly by his touch, your lips part. He leans closer, hovering above your mouth while his eyes study the shape of it. 

His optics close as his mouth claims yours. You follow into the sweet darkness, your head tilting back at his firm but rich affection. He pushes and pulls against you as steady as the tide. His other hand remains on your hip, stroking you softly underneath the layer of your coat.

When he breaks the kiss with reverence, you breathe out mist. Floating upon a hazy, sweet cloud, you drift between their celestial bodies as they cuddle you close under the mistletoe. 

“Merry Christmas,” they whisper to you, one voice in each ear.

You hum a happy sound.

“Merry Christmas.”

[tteokdoroki]

*ੈ🌩️‧₊˚— after sickness, after health + sae itoshi.

૮˶ᵕ ༝ᵕ˶ა synopsis — your ex husband is a menace. married or not, you'll always belong to him.

⭑ warnings — please read + mdni ! characters aged up to 20s, smut, angst, divorce, custody battles, you have kids, cheating (with sae lol), manipulation, possesion, slight yandere if you squint, dub-con, tummy bulges, hold the moan, spit!kink, drunk sex, unprotected sex, toxic relationships, previously established relationships, mentions of arguments, ex husband + pro player!sae, fem!reader - not beta read !

⭑ words — 1.5K.

⭑ notes — hello... i was not meant to write this but,, i fear i cannot escape the bllk brain rot lmao !! sorry if he's ooc or too mean but i hope u like it ily guys mwah <3 - m.list ✩

oooo ex husband!sae is so annoying, jarring, he’s horrible.

the divorce is somewhat amicable. both of you pretend it is. you were young and in love but now you’re growing out of affectionate shoes that are too small for you now. it hurts. but you pretend.

ex husband!sae takes what’s his and you take what’s yours. sae doesn’t want what you have and what he gave you — being the big bread winner he was, you keep the house and the cars, the expensive wedding gifts his parents sent from abroad. pity presents, he calls them. he doesn’t want you to be out on your own.

the only thing you and ex husband!sae fight over are the kids — it’s a long and drawn out battle. very messy with tears on your end begging him to call it even and take the deal your lawyer offers up so that the public stops tearing you down. he likes that you’ve called him against the wishes of your lawyers, you’re coming to him as his ex-wife — pleading with him in that way that makes his lips quirk up in a cruel smile because it’s been so long since ex husband!sae heard you beg for him like that.

maybe the custody battle was only to drag you through the mud, make you hurt a little bit so you remember ex husband!sae for the rest of your life. the time you spend with kids is split down the middle.

ex husband!sae hears it from one of your little girls on the way back from their ballet class that mommy is seeing someone new. your other daughter likes him a lot, says he gets them ice cream on the weekends where you have them. and sure enough, your ex doesn’t like that, a weird and sick sense of possession curling around his heart and lungs because you’re not supposed to have been able to move on from sae. you’re only supposed to be happy with him.

ex husband!sae who invites himself over to dinner with your girls on the night he knows that your new boy toy will be there. a sense of pride washes over him as he takes in your expression when you open the front door to him; your eyes wide, pretty lips parted in a delicate ‘o’ — you look as though you might cry, asking him if he’s here for the girls and blinking quick when he says he wants to join the four of you for dinner. he watches the curve of your ass as you lead him inside, wanting to rip that little apron right off of you and make you his again in front of your boyfriend.

the kitchen is cramped with both men politely arguing over how to make the girls’ favourite dinner while they watch bluey out in the living room — paying no mind to the tension building down the hall. your boyfriend seems uncomfortable with how comfortable ex husband!sae is in your space. he knows where the spices are, how you like to wash the dishes as you go along, the way you set the dinner table. your stress runs high as sae flits through your home, after all he did live here once too.

your boyfriend puts his hand on your shoulder. sae smiles when you shrug him off.

the polite yet snide comments continue when your girls are seated for their meals. ex husband!sae makes it known that your current partner has no place at the table, that he could never have you because you’re too loyal to the routine and life that you know. you turn to the fancy bottle of red wine sae bought with him as stress relief.

you’re slightly tipsy when ex husband!sae puts your children to bed — he stops on the creaky stairs because he can hear you drunkenly argue with your boyfriend about tonight’s events and he can’t help but feel as if he’s won. your boyfriend doesn’t think that sae should be around, that he’s bad for you, for the girls too for picking fights in front of them. and like the loyal little thing you are, you defend your ex-husband because he’s a good father and he takes care of you. he always has.

sae only steps in when he sees you getting upset, crumbling under the weight of the evening, the stress of being a single mother with someone who doesn’t understand it the way your ex does. no one else should have the power to make you cry like the midfielder does. that’s sae’s job. the steps of the stairs groan under the weight of his footsteps as sae trudges down them — intervening when you flinch away from your boyfriend who’s raised his voice at you in an attempt to get you to see that ex husband!sae is bad for you.

you screw your eyes shut and clench your fists, not intoxicated enough to fail to gently remind your current partner. “please don’t yell at me.”

you sound so hurt by the argument and that only serves to piss sae off.

“i can take care of her from here,” ex husband!sae brushes past your boyfriend to pull your swaying frame into his chest — sweeping in like your knight in shining armour and ushering the man out of his house with a sick smirk. “i think you should leave.” your boyfriend says he’ll text you later on, no doubt, with the intention to smooth things over while he still feels threatened by your pro-football player ex. but you don’t find the time to respond when later does eventually come around.

because later that night, you give into your urges and succumb to familiarity where ex husband!sae has your knees pressed into your shoulders and your hot cunt wrapped around his shaft — milking him so good like you always have. like you’re meant to be. the midfielder shudders above you, listening out for the squelching symphony your sex sings for him as he fucks you nice and slow. sae fills you up until you can feel his cock in your lungs, dragging his milky pre along your walls as if it’s his signature on your body.

the older itoshi brother would be lying if he said he didn’t miss you, your body, your kisses. the way you dreamily echo his name like it’s a prayer every time he angles his cock to hit your sweet spots. you find his hands within the messy sheets, the slickness of your heat making it easier for sae to grind himself into you. he feels lightheaded with ecstasy, his grunts turning to deep rooted moans as he swoops down to kiss you with tongue — a poor attempt to silence your squeals since your girls are sleeping just down the hall.

the bed that you used to share betrays you, crying from underneath the languid push and pull of your bodies working together for orgasm. ex husband!sae is torn between capturing your teary face in the now and reminiscing all the times he’d fucked you or made love to you against these very sheets. the thought of your new boyfriend doing the same makes him hotter, makes him move faster — slurring and spitting his praises into your eager mouth as his balls clap against the curve of your ass and the crude mix of precum and your juices tie sae itoshi to you.

licking into his mouth, you lift a hand to curl into sae’s roots and tug hard in the way that he likes. “sae,” you mewl, breathless and bambi eyed. “feel s’fuckin’ good. hah! d-don’t stop, m-missed you!”

“don’t tell me what to do, ‘couldn’t stop even if you begged for it.” sweat beads on ex husband!sae’s forehead and he closes his eyes, hips stuttering even though they piston into yours. he can’t tell if you actually miss him or if it’s the sex that’s making you feel this way — and quite frankly, he’s in the same boat. he hooks your thighs over his shoulders and presses the entirety of his body over yours, putting all of his energy in to deep, long strokes that make you choke on your words and gush sweet and clear streams around the base of his throbbing cock.

“you feel me here, love?” your ex husband!sae, asks, magenta hair flopping over his eyes — his hips flush against your puffy clit as your juices pearl along side it. he gives you a rough thrust, fucking you like it’s your wedding night all over again and he hasn’t made the last few months of your life a living hell. like he loves you. “c’mon baby, pay attention. can’t believe you’re so shameless, letting me have you like this again. do you feel me?” sae presses down on your tummy where his thick dick bulges, the sensation making the whites of your eyes visible as they roll back into your skull.

you nod, delirious with desire, pussy trapping your ex husband inside of you. “y-yes, sae! f-feel you!”

“good, because i belong here, sweetheart,” ex husband!sae coos, an evil spark haunting his aquamarine eyes. “i’m the only one who ever gets to fuck you here. because no matter what happens — you’ll always be mine and i’ll always be yours.”

[puzzled-pegasus]

wof headcanons but theyre oddly food and substance related for some reason

Although I understand why Tui didn't include very much info abt alchohol or drugs in a kids book there is an extreme lack of culinary related world building so here are some ideas I had while on this train of thought :)

SeaWings tend to be foodies and are generally given cooking classes in school. Which if you think about it, is rather important, because like 60 percent of the creatures in the ocean are poisonous and the rest have parasites and nasty germs so they need to know whats up when it comes to food safety.

SeaWings use a lot of citrus in their food and drinks and they also use it for fragrances and stuff they just really like it

SeaWing nobles commonly eat fugu and there have been assassinations where a chef was bribed to not properly take out the poison so the dragon eating it would die

SeaWings drink to taste. SkyWings drink to forget what century it is.

SkyWings typically eat their meat raw but on special occasions they will barbecue it and put some spices n stuff on it. They don't eat much else besides meat but they do like spicy things like peppers and they also like strong onion or garlic flavors. The little masochists. Anyway,

SkyWings don't really like sweet things and many of them can't even taste them so they're like wtf is a dessert

man do they love them some olives tho. Olives everywhere. In their drink. Out of the jar. On their meat. Oil on their scales. Oil in their hygiene products. They started trading them from the Sand and SeaWings millennia ago but theyve selectively bred ones that grow in the mountains

This one's more drugs than food but SkyWings will sometimes take some kind of stimulant before battle like a beserker so they're all fired up heheh

MudWings are excellent meal preparers and sibs like to all cook together so they'll make a big pot of stew or something

They like bread and desserts, they have easy access to sugar cane being along the east coast and they also use a lot of honey. They're re into canning stuff too, they have a lot of raspberries and blackberries and strawberries in their temperate forest areas and they grow them to make jam and wine and they use honey to make mead

basically they are Cottagecore(TM) and I love them

They also eat lots of freshwater fish and crawfish and whatnot

And they also eat a lot of tatoes

Vanilla grows in the swamps, they use that in their cakes

MudWings deserve some appreciation goddamnit their kingdom is biologically diverse and beautiful

SandWings have tequila because. Yknow. Cactus.

They eat a lot of bugs and lizards, they don't really need to eat every day so it's not a huge deal

they do like coconuts tho and they use coconut oil in a lot of their hygiene products as well as in their cooking

They deep fry a lot of shit. Idk where i got this but trust me. They love things with lots of fat in it bc they need all they can get

Really sticky sweet desserts and candy; enjoyers of those one lollipops with the mealworms or whatever tf in them

also canning stuff like bone broth is very important

pickled cactus as well

rhey probably have a festival when cactus fruit goes in season

what even is IceWing cuisine.

Well way up north where there's nothing but ice it's pretty bad and the dragons have to eat just plain ass meat and seafood, but down into the tundras there's some pretty good stuff like cinnamon, pines for tea, honey berries, and other foraging as well as more diversity of meats

They would probably eat sushi

All the other tribes like to make fun of them and rightfully so bc their food is so plain

they make good honey berry wine tho

Maube that's why theyre so damn grumpy

RainWings are expert foragers ofc but they don't really feel the need to prepare their food in any way

They are, however, in constant dire need of sodium because they get absolutely none from their fruit

So anything salty is wow

Maybe rhey have a place near the mud kingdom border where they can grow some asparagus for salt

they are also the only tribe besides Night that can eat chocolate but forgor 💀 how to make it so the NightWings and them have to re figure it out together

Salted dark chocolate bing bang boom instant delicacy

NightWings used to be able to cook really well, especially desserts and pastry, but they forgor while they were trying to not die on the volcano

[danieyells]

Hello! Thank you so much for posting the guys’ voicelines! If it’s not too much trouble, could I ask for Yuri’s and Ritsu’s? I’ve been especially curious about Yuri’s since reading his line at the beginning of the game if you choose him lol Again, thank you so much!!

(i posted ritsu's separately!)

no anon you may not study yuri. yuri studies you. how dare you. bad guinea pig! you get no experiment tonight!

the rest of you, however, may come appreciate the good doctor with me. You can come too studying anon i won't tell yuri

some of his lines really kinda subverted my expectations of his character? /affectionate) like i thought he would be quite different! not to say his profile is dishonest, but. . .idk lol i love him he's. . .he's special.

Hello: (the first time the game is opened after that character is set as home screen NPC. Only happens once per day, unless the character is switched out and back.)

"What are you dawdling for? Change out of those rags and report to my lab immediately!"

You've Got Mail: (whenever there's something in the inbox, usually Arena rewards)

"What madness is this? Why do you have unread messages!? Check them immediately! Research is a race against time!"

Default: (requires no affinity, has no time constraints)

"You should feel honored to be chosen as the test subject of Dr. Yuri Isami, genius and visionary!"

"Jiro! Jiro!! What on earth are you doing!?"

he calls for jiro the way a parent calls for their kid who's minding their business in another room--

"Lowbrow schools of thought with the gall to oppose my research will bear a mark of shame for generations to come. One day, the world will be forced to acknowledge me."

i realized this early on since i chose him in the pre-prologue so i always had access to him on the home screen but. since anomalies have to be kept secret from the world he kind of can't be acknowledged for what he does in the long run, can he? since he specifically works in anomalous medical sciences much of what he does and works with has to be kept only within the institute's understandings. . . .

"I always preserve the lives of my patients. I cannot make guarantees for any other parts of them, however."

sure you're a disembodied head in a jar but you are a living disembodied head in a jar! don't worry they'll get you a new body!!

"I ask their cooperation for the sake of the future of humanity, and this is what I get!? Jiro, how much do we have left in our research budget!?"

Affinity 1: (between 5am and 11am)

"What a bracing morning. Jiro, prepare my wake-up tonic."

is 'wake-up tonic' a fancy way of saying coffee or do you have some mixture of herbs and spices that wakes you up

Affinity 2: (between 11am and 4pm)

"Are you injured or ill? Oh dear, how unfortunate. I shall begin the experi— Ahem, the treatment, immediately."

the way he says this is so incredible but tumblr will not let me upload the video for some reason he is so hype to try putting strange things in you.

Affinity 3: (between 4pm and 8pm)

"Jiro's not feeling well, you say? Very well. I shall test my latest formula on him."

Affinity 4: (between 8pm and 5am)

"Oh, it's you. And here I thought I had a patient. I am currently reviewing today's lessons, so please leave unless you're here for treatment."

he's very studious for a genius. not a lot of the ghouls actually go to class.

Affinity 5: (between 8pm and 5am)

"Wha... Wh-Where did you come from!? Th-Th-Th-This!? It is a medical journal! The Ace Doctor Wows Minds In Another World Thesis!"

MY GUY IS READING ISEKAI MANGA ABOUT DOCTORS AND PROJECTING do you think he reads like hentai about doctors and scientists too. probably not right he's too haughty to think about things like that before they happen

Affinity 6: (between 4pm and 8pm)

"The only blood I stain myself with is that atop the operating table. On missions, I have Jiro to fight in my stead."

it's okay to say you're just not much of a fighter lmao

Affinity 7: (between 11am and 4pm)

"Anomalous medical science is uncharted territory. Should I become its pioneer, all will bow before my intellect until the end of time... Ha ha... Ah ha ha ha ha!"

Affinity 8: (between 4pm and 8pm)

"Hmph. We have no time to spare on your drivel. Hurry up, Jiro!"

Affinity 9: (between 8pm and 5am)

"It's about time for Jiro's check-up... Hm? Wake up, Jiro! I've discovered an abnormality already!"

Affinity 10: (between 10pm and midnight)

"Hmm, this case is somewhat complex... No, there's no need for my expertise here. Jiro, prepare to operate immediately."

'this is too complicated for a human but not too complicated to be jiro's problem!' disregard that jiro may be smarter than him. . . .

Affinity 11: (between 5am and 11am)

"Prepare the new formula, Jiro. A specimen has arrived. What? You're not here for treatment?"

listen sometimes you just wanna pay someone a visit! it's not my fault you live in a goddamn hospital.

Affinity 12: (between 11am and 4pm)

"I will soon be finished with today's lessons— then I shall return to the lab to confirm the status of my latest test subject."

this is between 11 and 4pm, so you're basically just hearing him talk about his plans for after school lmao just normal student things!!!

Affinity 13: (between 4pm and 8pm)

"Why yes, I attended every lesson today, as always. All studies are linked, after all. Though it takes a mind such as mine to recognize that."

I DON'T THINK IT'S THAT HARD TO SEE THE LINK BETWEEN MEDICINE AND EVERYTHING. . .UNLESS YOU JUST DON'T KNOW ANYTHING ABOUT ILLNESSES OR MEDICINE. . . .

Affinity 14: (between 5am and 11am)

"What is that slovenly visage, worm? Tell me, do you have an excuse for looking more emaciated than me when I spent all night researching? I didn't think so!"

would you like my laundry list of reasons i look tired yuri because i can get it

Affinity 15: (between 5am and 11am)

"I must personally administer Jiro's shots three times a day. The treatment is rather unique, you see."

'you see i use my peni--'

Affinity 16: (between 11am and 4pm)

"You have business with Jiro? Not before bringing it to me, you don't. He is merely my assistant—as house captain, it is I who possesses the authority."

no talking to his son assistant without going through him first! sorry anon who asked for an appointment with jiro yuri has to approve it

Affinity 17: (between 10pm and midnight)

"I'm busy with my experiments. Go back to your dorm and ready yourself for your next appointment. Jiro, see her home."

i feel like he doesn't want you to see what he does to his other test subjects. . .not because they die or anything, they always live, it's just a little gruesome to see. He's not as rough with you. And he needs to make sure you keep coming back. And he needs to make sure you get home safe, so he's sending Jiro with you.

Affinity 18: (between 8pm and 5am)

"Even harmful anomalies can have use as medicinal ingredients... This is the sort of immeasurable value my work provides."

isn't that common knowledge in the medical world though. . .i mean obviously getting the right balance is crucial but that's not an entirely new concept, 'let's use the harmful thing for something good'--

Affinity 19: (between 10pm and midnight)

"Don't forget that body of yours is a vital specimen! Is it not common knowledge that lack of sleep is the root of all illness!?"

DON'T YOU AND JIRO REGULARLY PULL ALL NIGHTERS IF NOT FOR DAYS AT A TIME?????? maybe yuri is just immune to illness. . . .

Affinity 20: (between 5am and 11am)

"Good morning, M... M... M... My,  what an adequate morning it is, no!? Hmph... Don't confuse me like that..."

IF YOU DIDN'T CHOOSE YURI IN THE PRE-PROLOGUE IT'S IMPORTANT TO KNOW. . .when Yuri jumps he says "goodbye, mama."

In Japanese it's somewhat more apparent that he's about to call you 'mama' in the voiceline. Maybe it's just my interpretation based on lines 23 and 24, but I think something happened to his mother where he failed to save her with surgery and at higher affinity he begins to project that need to save terminal/cursed patients' lives on you in particular. And he starts to think of you the way he thinks of his mother, but also as his favorite test subject. That or it's a loop/timeline thing and you're actually his mother--do you guys think he'd be able to be convinced into mommy kink shit he clearly has mommy issues it might help

Affinity 21: (between 11am and 4pm)

"Mark my words, I'll have those pompous, preening parasites at Frostheim kneeling before me..."

man they do not like frostheim here in mortkranken. the fact that this is so high up is like. . .i wonder if there's some serious beef here.

Affinity 22: (between 4pm and 8pm)

"Jiro's gone!? ...So be it, then. I grant you the privilege of being my assistant for the day. Be grateful, worm."

jiro will come back when he needs his medication, it's fine! woohoo! do we get a nurse outfit!?

Affinity 23: (between 8pm and 5am)

"There is no life I can't save... There can't be... I am Yuri Isami...the genius visionary doctor..."

it sounds like he's downright scared to fail to save a life.

Affinity 24: (between 10pm and midnight)

"My next surgery must be a success... I... I cannot afford another failure..."

i am once again assuming his mother died on the operating table while he was trying to save or otherwise help her and he's extremely traumatized by it. on the other hand would he say 'goodbye mama' if she weren't still alive? maybe she's alive but she's in a coma or hospice or critical condition or something. and he's studying anomalous medicine to figure out how to save her.

Affinity 25(max): (no time constraints)

"You belong to me. I will never hand you over to another researcher... (gasp) N-N-N-No, you've misunderstood! I-I just...!"

i'm literally the doctor's favorite lab rat because i am so obedient and intelligent and-- he blushes in the second line--he meant it as a test subject/lab rat or assistant thing but he also accidentally said how he really felt at the same time. . . . But you're his, he will be the one to save you, when he stands atop the world as world renowned genius anomalous medical doctor yuri isami you will stand by him as his proudest subject who's helped him confirm many theories and save many others' lives and he will work so hard to keep you well you are his and he doesn't want anyone else to learn what he can learn from you--

Spring: (March-May) (between 5am and 11am)

"Struggling with pollen allergies? I have a new formula here developed in Mortkranken, shall I test it on you?"

(between 11am and 4pm)

"Hmm hmm hmm hmm hmm! Hmm hmm hmm! Hmm hmm hmm hmm hmm hmm hmm hmm! Pa rum!"

so i don't know enough classical music to be able to tell what the songs he hums are, but if anyone wants to give it a shot i can try uploading the audios of him lol just lmk

(between 4pm and 8pm)

"Which house's ghouls are out in the field at present? Oh my, I do hope they come back with some exciting injuries."

i wonder who his favorites to fix up are. . .on the one hand, he hates frostheim. so he might wanna be rougher with them or subject them to more unique experiments and make them admit his intelligence and skill. on the other hand obscuary must be the most interesting ones to work on since they're so unique?

(between 8pm and 5am)

"When did the cherry blossoms bloom...? The changing of the seasons seems rather superfluous when I am engaged in my research."

Summer: (June-August) (between 5am and 11am)

"Jiro, make a record of today's temperature. We need to take the changing climate into for illnesses particular to summer."

(between 11am and 4pm)

"Darkwick will provide me the materials I need for my research, provided they fall within our budget... But that is simply insufficient."

have you tried selling organs? taiga says it's very lucative. surely you have some lying around?

(between 4pm and 8pm)

"Hmm...hmm...hmm...hmm... hmm hmm hmm hmm, Pa pa pa pa pa pa rum!"

(between 8pm and 5am)

"Why do you look so distressed? If the heat is proving too much for you, I can prescribe you something to lower your body temperature."

Autumn: (September-November) (between 5am and 11am)

"Why must a peerless genius such as myself be saddled with performing piddling health checks for the new students!? It's asinine!"

aren't you the only legitimate doctor in this place by your own admission!?

(between 11am and 4pm)

"A trip to admire the fall foliage? Why yes, I am interested. After all, I'm sure Jabberwock's mountains possess all sorts of undiscovered ingredients. Let's get going."

just make sure you ask towa before taking anything. . .he might not appreciate you messing with his plants. . . .

(between 4pm and 8pm)

"Sports...? Hmph, such nonsense is entirely superfluous to my life. Why needlessly expend energy in such a manner?"

(between 8pm and 5am)

"Hmm hmm, hmm hmm, hmm hmm, hmm, hmm hmm hmm hmm hmmmm!"

Winter: (December-February) (between 5am and 11am)

"Freude! Schöner! Götter! Funke! Tochter aus Elyyyyyyysium!"

HE IS SINGING ODE TO JOY IN THE ORIGINAL GERMAN.

(between 11am and 4pm)

"Eureka! A new formula utilizing an anomalous plant that only grows in subzero temperatures has been discovered, by...! Jiro..."

c'mon yuri be proud of your vice captain!

(between 4pm and 8pm)

"Our research budget for the new year is nearly spent... Come, Jiro! We're going to negotiate with the faculty!"

(between 8pm and 5am)

"I despise the snow. It brings nothing but revolting memories... There, we're done with today's checkup. Any other questions?"

. . .what happened between Yuri and Jin. I NEED TO KNOW.

His birthday: (September 14th)

"You...remembered my birthday!? Ahem... If you wish to give me a present, make it either a talented assistant or a useful test subject."

people don't remember his birthday much i assume. . .or they tend to stay away from him so much he just doesn't get much attention or appreciation.

Your birthday:

"I am here to celebrate your birthday. Do you feel honored? I've prepared a new formula for you. Let's continue this in the lab, shall we?"

your birthday present is being part of more experiments! aren't you honored???

New Years: (January 1st)

"Happy New Year. I am on my way to make my first shrine visit. You didn't think me the type? I-It's just a tradition!"

Valentine's Day: (February 14th)

"Hmm, my blood sugar was just starting to drop. I suppose you do have it in you to be considerate every now and then... Pardon? Valentine's Day? ...(gasp)"

oh he has never gotten valentine's day chocolates before has he. or at least not recently.

White Day: (March 14th)

"I suppose I can concede you have proven yourself useful in the lab, worm. ...This is a token of my gratitude."

he didn't blush when he got the gift but he did blush giving you one so. . .i'm taking it this isn't obligation chocolate.

April Fool's Day: (April 1st)

"Hmph, did you honestly think you could fool me? I won't fall for your cheap tricks. I've already been fooled by Jiro seven times today!"

comically jiro's says he doesn't remember pulling any tricks on yuri at all. . .so yuri may be assuming anything he dislikes or is inconvenienced by is a trick lol

Halloween: (October 31st)

"Trick or treat! I have coordinated the ultimate matching costumes for Jiro and I... Yes, perfect."

the fact that he wanted to match costumes with jiro is so cute. . .like he really has this goofy side that doesn't come out much, but it seems like he enjoys celebrations and relaxed things, he's just too busy to engage in them. he likes isekai manga and holiday traditions and costumes. . .then again there's coordination and order involved in a matching halloween costume. so maybe he just likes the order and structure of it all.

Christmas: (December 25th)

"Merry Christmas. You can hand me my present at your earliest convenience. You did prepare one for me, didn't you!?"

he's surprised you remembered his birthday and valentine's day but he expects a christmas gift???

Idle: (about 20 seconds without interacting with the game) (below 13 affinity)

"I am a very busy man, so if you don't require examination, then we're done here."

(13 affinity and above)

"Hmph. You really think yourself important enough to make a genius like myself wait around!?"

Absent: (logging in for the first time in 2 or more days?)

"Where on earth have you been, worm!? Next time you plan on taking an extended leave of absence, I expect you to inform me in advance!"

THERE WE GO. after yesterday where tumblr decided to freak out on me and just fuckin delete it all i'm glad it's out of the way today lol. I REALLY LOVE YURI HE REALLY FEELS SO. . .PATHETIC. he's the self-reinforcing type who really feels the need to hype up his own greatness and reinforce his authority while, as you get closer to him, letting you see how vulnerable he is and how scared he is of failure. and at first you're a specimen and a lab rat but after getting close enough he shoos you away from his experiments and you can even be his assistant(in jiro's absence) instead. . .his profile makes him sound very in control and aggressive but he doesn't really seem that way in his voicelines i guess? and here and there he's goofy and caring. . .he's kind of a loser(affectionate)!

one of my favorite characters lolol i am so looking forward to the mortkranken chapter because that's going to be so dramatic i bet. . . .

[kn-1013]

Exploratory Surgery #2

The Sally Face gang plus Travis all get high together.

Rating: T Word Count: ~1800 Pairing: None/Gen Warnings: Drug use and references to child abuse

A/N: this involves two of my very self-indulgent headcannons; that ashley has tourettes, and that sal has POTS. this doesn't change much about the characters but is some needed context.

========

“How’s it feel so far? Good?” Ashley turned her head to him and elbowed him gently, her eyes half-lidded and red. Her ear was pressed to the couch and there was a deeply inebriated grin on her face.

“I can confidently say I have never experienced this feeling before in my life.” Travis felt like he was going to start phasing through the overly soft couch he was planted on. He stared at the ceiling, his hands resting on his stomach, listening to the quiet Spice Girls song playing in the background. Maybe it’s the fact that he doesn’t typically listen to a lot of contemporary music, or maybe it’s the weed, but right now, Saturday Night Divas was the most beautiful song he’s ever heard.

In this moment, he could feel everything; the fabric of every piece of clothing on his body, the thick and stale air of the Addison Apartments, the softness of the couch and how his weight shifted the stuffing inside, the way Ashley’s body next to him shifted the couch even further, the sensation of his bruised and scraped skin, the weight of his own body, he could even feel the Earth’s axis. But unlike other times this happened, it wasn’t overwhelming. It felt fine. Unifying, even. He could feel the way that everything was connected.

“Is that a good thing or a bad thing?” Ashley asked, probing him for symptoms of greening out.

“I have no idea.” Travis looked back to the ceiling. Whether it was good or bad just seemed so insignificant to him right now. Right now, it just was.

Based on the way the others always acted when they were high, he was expecting more of a euphoric feeling when he tried it for the first time, but it didn’t feel quite like that to him. It felt like a relaxed, yet weighted clarity had dawned onto him. He was putting into words concepts he was acutely aware of but never consciously recognized. It was heavy, evocative, thought-provoking, stimulating.

“I think that’s a good sign.” Sal said from his spot on the floor. He’d been laying down on his back on the floor for a while now, since he took a couple of huge hits from the bong and his blood pressure dropped so badly that he nearly passed out just sitting up on the couch. Larry was digging through his kitchen for chicken broth and pickle juice right now.

“Should you even be doing this with your heart thing?” Travis asked, noting the way his heart was pounding in his chest a little bit, but Sal blew raspberries from behind his mask. “It’s fiiiiine, probably. I haven’t had a heart attack yet. I just need a little bit of salt or something, then I’ll be at least half as normal as I usually am.” He snorted.

Travis didn’t really know what that meant, but if Sal knew what he was doing, then he probably shouldn’t argue too much. Travis was acutely aware of how that was a mildly unusual thought process for him to be having, but he couldn’t find it in himself to care all that much. Right now, he just wanted to sit in the moment.

Larry walked back in with a mug of something hot with a straw in it in one hand, and a jar of pickles plus a plastic fork in the other. He kneeled down next to Sal to set them on the ground. Sal raised himself to his elbows to start getting up, but his arms and shoulders were visibly shaking from the effort, and he quickly plopped himself back down on the ground, snorting, and Ash quickly joined in.

“You have to feed me...” Sal said. “You have to feed me pickles like a baby bird.” Larry chortled highly. “Dude, I would do that for you… If you actually needed it.” He opened the jar of pickles and stabbed the fork inside uncoordinatedly a couple of times before pulling one out for Sal.

“Ew?” Ash said.

“But I do need it, Larry, I need it so badly. Feed my- my pickles, Laaaaaaaaaaryyyyyyyyyy-” His voice got progressively louder until Larry grabbed the plastic nose of his prosthetic and shook Sal’s face until he started laughing.

“Shut up, I feed you pickles. I do it every day.” Larry deadpanned, and Sal laughed. Without missing a beat, the blue-haired boy replied, “My beautiful pickle nurse saves me from the brink of death once more.”

Sal unbuckled the bottom straps of his prosthetic face so Larry could attempt to shove a pickle underneath it in what was probably not the most effective way to get this done.

Travis had a feeling that none of what they were saying was true, but he wouldn’t know. Maybe friends did pickle-nurse each other.

“This is proper procedure, right Neil?” Ashley asked, looking over to Neil on her other side. Todd was on the floor in between his knees, letting his boyfriend play with his hair.

“I taught Larry everything he knows about pickle-nursing.” Neil said, not even looking up from the little braids he’d been constructing and deconstructing repeatedly in Todd’s curly, red hair.

Todd seemed to stir for the first time in maybe thirty minutes. He wasn’t asleep, he’d just honked a little too much of that bobo and got himself a bit more blasted than he normally would’ve liked. His voice was quiet and words slurred together in a far-gone kind of fatigue as he asked, “What the fuck are we talking about?”

“Nothing, don’t worry about it, baby.” Neil said, petting his head softly. “Okay, I believe you.” Todd said, leaning back into the couch. “I’ll believe anything you tell me.”

“Travis, which is gayer: pickle nursing or hair salon?” Ash asked, gesturing from Sal and Larry to Todd and Neil.

Travis continued staring straight ahead, having absorbed himself in the conversation around him. He felt perfectly content right now, listening to this.

“Hellooooo, Travis?” Ash begun waving a hand in front of his face, and Travis started to snap himself back into reality.

“Huh? Whuh?” Travis sputtered and blinked dumbly, before he processed what had just happened. “Oh my gosh.” He covered his face in embarrassment and began laughing drunkenly, all high-pitched and lacking inhibition. He fell over onto the soft armrest of the couch as his knees lifted themselves up until his feet were off the ground.

“What, whaaat?” Ash asked, grabbing his shoulder and shaking.

Travis peered at Ashley through his fingers, and she could see parts of the stupid, inebriated grin on his face, and his squinted, reddened eyes.

“I thought I was listening to the radio. For like, the past ten minutes.” Travis’s voice was strained from trying not to laugh again, and he failed this fight after he stopped trying to communicate.

Ashley burst out laughing at his stoned-up mistake, and Larry began laughing hard enough that he needed to lean over, his forehead resting his weight over onto Sal’s trunk. Sal himself had spat warm chicken broth all over the inside of his mask, and he quickly turned over on his side, laughing and sputtering wetly on the ground, with Larry on top of him.

In the middle of the childish laughter, a deep and stinging melancholy had struck Travis.

It used to be a lot like this. Him, Larry, Ashley. All wound up in laughter at Travis’s old-fashioned home, or Ashley’s contemporary one. In Larry’s musty, turpentine-smelling basement bedroom. He remembered the smell of that wooden tree house Mr. Johnson had built before he disappeared. He wondered if the some of the glitter he’d spilled in the carpet of Ashley’s bedroom that one time was still there in its minuscule, yet untouchable glory.

Does Larry still have that scar on his elbow from that time he fell down the front steps of Travis’s house?

Travis’s ankle never stopped clicking when he turned it a certain way after he fell on it wrong from falling out of the tire swing in Ashley’s back yard.

Sometimes he still heard Ashley involuntarily repeating something rather mundane he’d said so many years ago with the same tone and inflection as when he’d first said it. It was like a snapshot of that moment existed within her permanently whenever her tics made her say ‘I got peanuts!’

It used to be a lot like this. Easy, fun contentment away from their parents. Away from expectations or prying eyes.

But then they got older. Life started getting complicated. They couldn’t dismiss their parents’ expectations anymore. Grades started becoming important. They had to think about their futures.

They just changed.

…No, that’s not what happened.

Travis changed.

And he didn’t just change out of nowhere, he was made to change, molded into what he was now through closed fists and backhands. Through hair brushes and belts, buckle-side first. Empty locked closets and physical restraint.

All at the hands of his father, spitting verses of the holy book like venom.

His father took him like clay and Travis let him, until he became so deformed by that tireless anger that he couldn’t look his reflection in the eye anymore. Because when he looked into those angry brown irises, he found himself consumed wholly by his father’s.

…And now they were here, where Travis was pausing in the middle of a laugh with people who used to have reasons to care about him, letting that old, empty ache spread further within his heart.

As they continued to laugh, and as the laughter died down back into conversation, he found himself falling quiet again. The way they spoke so naturally without him intervening only served to remind him that he didn’t belong here anymore. Maybe he never did.

Travis’s eyes made their way back to the point where the ceiling met the top of the wall as he leaned back into the couch, letting the soft, old cushions absorb his weight and sink his body in.

Nothing he could say in this conversation would be as funny or as useful as something one of their actual friends had to say, and he knew that. He knew that he was incredibly out of place here, what with all of the inside jokes and referenced memories he was missing. The way that they seemed to stop trying to include him as he got quieter and quieter again.

He internally begged someone outside his head to bring him back, to want him, to even notice him, but he wouldn't ask out loud, and so it never happened.

So he sat back on the couch, feeling the weight of everything on his skin, everything in his body, the unifying feeling of his own gravity, and he tried to be content with what he could get as he quietly listened to the radio.

[miscfandomwrites]

A/N: Based off a prompt of two people who don't work well together being forced to make breakfast together, expect one of them fucks something up. Also, I made some characters have food allergies. Because I can and it helps make them more relatable in my opinion. Anywho, I can make more of this if y'all like.

Pairing: Stephen Strange x Reader (tried to keep it non-discript as possible)

Warnings: langauge

Words: 700ish

Tagging: @tyler-t0t

~

“You’ve never learned how to cook?” 

“Well, I have, I just don’t mess with hot things or knives or anything that might damage my hands.” 

“Well, that’s a bit vain, but considering your job is messing with someone's very delicate brain, I think you can get a pass. This time.” 

“Oh, this time, huh? Thanks, I guess.” 

I grinned at him. “C’mon, it’s our turn to make breakfast today, we’re gonna go all out so I can show you how to cook.” 

I grabbed a pair of aprons from the side of the fridge, tossing one to him. “I’ll do prep and you can make everything, should be simple.”

I asked FRIDAY to open up a digital whiteboard, and jotted down the ideas I had for breakfast: 

Banana Bread (2 loaves)

Pancakes with and without blueberries

Quiche (3)

Breakfast potatoes (two sheets)

Scrambled eggs

Bacon

Breakfast sausage

Sourdough bread

“That doesn’t look ‘Simple to me’ “ Strange remarked, eyes widening at the list as he finished tying his apron. 

“This is nothing, I used to work in a summer camp kitchen. Besides, we’re feeding several super soldiers, a couple gods, and several others.” I told him as FRIDAY helped make the lists of everything I’d need, and thankfully I had woken up early to feed and start the sourdough bread so it’d be ready to put into the oven in about half an hour. 

Putting on some 2010 hits from when I was a bit younger, I started pulling out ingredients while Stephen got the bowls, pots, and pans ready for it. 

I quickly diced and chopped a variety of vegetables and prepped some quiche in some pre-crusted pans that I pulled from the freezer, popping them into the first oven while I monitored Stephen making the banana bread. 

“Is this literally it? No seasonings or add-ins?” He questioned as he poured the first bread mix into the greased pan. 

“I mean, you can add like cinnamon and nutmeg and stuff but Clint has a nut allergy so I don’t, and last week we found out Loki is allergic to cinnamon, so.” I told him as I parboiled some potatoes. 

He paused at that and turned to me, confused. “A god from another planet has an allergy?” 

“Yeah, not surprising if you think about it for a bit. Took me a little bit to think about it as well.” I replied, taking a sip of my coffee as I used a fork to poke a potato. 

He narrowed his eyes and stared off into space for a bit, something I usually did when I was trying to figure out something in my head. 

“I mean, he is from another planet after all, and I don’t suppose they have the same spices as we do, so that leaves a whole world of possibilities open for them.” He said slowly after a moment. 

I nodded, taking the potatoes off the heat and straining them into the colander in the sink. 

“Peter is allergic to food dyes. Which is why he’s in the kitchen so often making his own candy with his friends.” 

“So that explains the large jar of sugar on the counter then.” he motioned to it as he put the bowl and measuring spoons into the sink. 

“Oh that? I think it’s citric acid, but I’d ask him at breakfast before you go putting it into anything.” 

He stopped for a moment and sheepishly rubbed the back of his head, making me pause. 

“You put that into the banana bread, didn’t you?” 

“It looked like sugar! What else was I supposed to use?” He yelled at me. 

“I don’t know! Maybe the jar on the left of the sink with the label Plain Sugar on it!” I yelled back, heading over to the fruit bowl and yanking the rest of the bananas from it. 

“It’s fine, we’ll just keep them in the kitchen and hopefully no one will notice.” 

~ One hour later ~

Everyone had started coming from their various morning routines and piled into the kitchen, grabbing bowls of food and taking it into the dining room as I got the hot pitchers ready with both regular and decaf coffee, and pulling out the pitches of various juices and iced coffee, carrying them into the room as well. 

As we finally all sat down, I explained how Stephen helped make breakfast and pointed towards the banana bread, and soon enough everyone had a slice. 

“WHAT THE FUCK!?” came from Bucky, spitting out the slice on his plate. “WHY IS IT SOUR?” 

Welp, looks like people noticed.

[sharkbeneaththelotus]

Today's postypost is "I have not made anything in three days of light just implode"

No time like the right now, ah?

Zhang Qiling was fine.

He was in a big box food store, and he was, objectively, factually, uninjured.

However.

The shelf, aisle, department and street names were all correct, and there was a distinct lack of salted dried peaches and he was, by this point in what was feeling like an exceedingly long day, deeply wounded by this.

To the sides, hawthorn cakes and dried jujubes, above; little yellow and blue pill shaped things on packets of individual grilled squid, below; a superfluity of dried mango in a box that he could fit in. If he ducked his head.

But no dried peaches, let alone salt and spiced ones. The paper crumpling between his fingers had promised they would be here, with a little xx <3 at the bottom.

In the next aisle over, a child dutifully tried to pick up a bag of rice larger than it was, to audible amusement and much encouragement. Zhang Qiling could see the parental unit's hand on the handle, taking most of the weight until the rice was placed on the cart with great fanfare. The child received: one pat on the head.

Zhang Qiling reached up to tug his hood closer to his forehead. The lights were loud. Grating.

"Um, excuse me, thank you..." A cart of boxes said, to his left. The boxes were wheeling slowly down the aisle, accompanied by a human head. Possibly also the rest of the human. Zhang Qiling slipped between the boxes and the shelves, head ducked, so he didn't have to see.

"Um! Is there!" The human was not only a head. Oh good. "Is there something I can help you with?" It squeaked, in tones that were approaching 'sounds only a dog can hear'.

In a moment of ridiculous, fragile bravery, he held out The Paper, his thumb carefully over the xx<3, which was his and not for outsiders.

"Oh gosh, right, glad I was already restocking! Here, do you want two jars or two crates? It's cheaper per unit to get the whole crates--"

The tower of human-piloted boxes stopped, put it's breaks on with a deft gesture of a tiny foot, and began to dismantle itself. The tiny human appeared from behind the stack, beaming.

"Two. Crates?" He requested, a hand on a precariously balanced box.

The tiny human bobbed it's head and passed over a crate, labeled "24x400g". A second was unearthed from beneath a box of seaweed sheets.

"I'll take this to the counter for you--"

"No need." He lifted the first box to his shoulder, and boosted the other up on top of that.

"Oh! Okay! Great, good luck with your-- enjoy your purchase!"

He bobbed his head, sidled past the cart of boxes, and escaped.

[levil0vesyou]

Oh hey, I realised I can just ask for advice!

(Note: This is (mostly) not ebegging (nothing wrong with ebegging, just wanna be clear) even if it may sound that way in the first section. Please keep reading. It's pretty long tho, sorry. I'll put it under a cut as I am planning to pin it but please, please read it, especially if we're mutuals. Reblogs are welcome, especially within the german blogosphere, but don't feel obligated.)

So as some of you know, my flatmate has locked me out of the kitchen because I didn't have money for groceries and thus kept eating his food. This includes the electric kettle, microwave and most cutlery but I did accidentally keep a spoon that I still have now. (I have a small bottle of dish soap so yes, I can reuse it as I do still have bathroom access.)

I have since received my first unemployment payment which, due to my previous (necessary) overconsumption is mostly gone again now. I have 20€ and change (cash so paypal and my other debtors can't seize it) left for the rest of the month (new unemployment payment should arrive on the 1st) but I'm struggling to make it stretch.

I've been trying to search up advice on this but couldn't find anything useful. If you have links or anything, that'd be awesome. Here's the key points:

I live in Germany so subject to the German costs of living. Because I also can't afford public transport fare, my store choice is pretty much limited to a small-ish Rewe nearby. There's also a Mäc Geiz and a pharmacy but ofc those aren't grocery stores.

I do not have food allergies but I am a vegetarian and unless I'm literally dying, this situation will not change that.

As mentioned I have no access to a kettle, a microwave, a stove, a fridge or any of that. I do have access to my popcorn machine (many years of trusty service, real mvp) but that's it. I have access to a spoon and a sharp knife. Not a chef's knife tho. I do not have access to spices.

My mental health is still very bad, I cannot leave the house some days and I don't think I'd be able to do anything elaborate. Thus, whatever I eat has to be easily (or not at all) prepared but not easily perishable.

At this point, my standards are very low. My current main thing is eating unheated canned food but I'm prepared to eat basically anything I can stomach (excluding meat, as mentioned) in any way that is possible for me. I'm eating unseasoned chickpeas out of a jar right now. They're actually pretty good. I also (under normal circumstances) sometimes eat dry pasta for funsies so that might give you an idea.

I eat a lot. Less at the moment but still above average. I need plenty of carbs or I will still be hungry after. Essentially, pretend I'm feeding two people here.

I keep craving salt. I'm usually decent at telling what foods my body needs by cravings so I've been eating many crisps since I no longer have a spice cabinet. But they're 'spensive. I've also been craving eggs but I have no way to indulge since afaik boiled eggs are only sold around Easter. Also fruit juice but I can eat some vitamin gummies I still have instead, that'll probably be fine.

As stated, the budget is 20€ for 1½ weeks. I do have a bit of food already, some Zwieback, a pack of Leibniz cookies, a small jar of applesauce, a (hopefully not too spicy) can of chili sin carne, stuff like that. Also some hardtack I made months ago and just now remembered, but not a lot of it and I have no way to soak it, tho I might be able to clean an empty can.

While I'm not hoping to inflict permanent damage on my body, I am willing to take a few more risks than I usually would. That said, I can barely handle one or two short grocery trips a week so foraging isn't a good option at the moment. Also, laundry situation is difficult rn so avoiding diarrhea would be awesome 👍

While I am unemployed and legally homeless (I just haven't left yet) I have no documentation for this at the moment. I mention this because some food banks and similar require such documentation. Also, again, I have a very low travel range rn (like... 200m. 500 on a good day) but if you know like some kind of... delivery food bank?? that exists in Bavaria (dm me for the city) that would be incredible.

No, I can't get a job. I literally just tried that (again) and have reached a personal new low as a result. There were some in-between steps (like that fucking clinic) but yea, that's not an option. No, not even home office. No, not even freelance.

This one might seem entitled but. I cannot keep eating the same thing. I do have my samefoods (tho I cannot cook pasta rn for obvious reasons) but especially lately, eating the same thing for more than two or three days in a row has been low key driving me insane. Might be because I've been mostly cut off from society for months, might be because my body is sick of it, who knows. But I need variety. Same thing twice a week is fine, but more than that is pushing it. I'm very sorry.

As stated, this is not an ebegging post and I want nobody to feel any kind of obligation but if we're mutuals and you have a German bank account (or Schengen and are willing to pay the fee) and you desperately want to, you may dm me about it. But you do not have to!!! And I literally only say this because I know what it feels like to be on the other end of this. No, paypal is not an option, I'm triple digits in the red there. Water droplet on a hot stone etc.

What I am looking for is advice, especially from people who have dealt with severe financial issues and/or homelessness/kitchenlessness before. I've been kitchenless before but I had a fridge, microwave and somewhat reasonable money then so it didn't really prepare me. You can either comment or reblog directly or you can dm me or send me an ask. Anon is enabled.

Either way, thank you so much for taking the time to read all this! I love you, may you have a good day <3

[charcuteriecrab]

what are you willing to sacrifice for peace? (Part 5)

a Resident Evil fanfiction

For @aussiepineapple1st

Rating: M (18+)

Contains: blood, strong language, description of injuries, gore (?), sex

Tags: pre-relationship chreon, post-vendetta, major character injury

Word Count: 3304

Part 5/7 Part 1 <- Previous | Next ->

NOTE: this chapter is NSFW and is only for those 18+

[An excerpt because of the 18+ content]

Chris watched as Leon went into the bathroom, clothes and products in hand. He was grateful that Claire had bought some things for them earlier—his apartment usually didn’t have food or basic hygiene products. Luckily, she had the chance to go to the grocery store before Leon was released and make sure they could survive for the next couple of weeks without going out. 

The bathroom door clicked shut, and Chris blinked, turning to the kitchen. Leon would be fine. If he needed anything, he would call. Chris was still concerned about his injuries, his stomach twinging uncomfortably as Leon left his line of sight, but all the man could do now was rest. Hopefully he would be okay enough by the time the DSO called on him. Fortunately, after pulling some strings at the BSAA, Chris was able to convince them to let him have this impromptu vacation so he could take care of Leon. He was fairly certain Rebecca had been the one to convince them.

Peeking into the pantry, he spotted a box of spaghetti noodles and some meat sauce sitting at the front. Spaghetti. That was easy. Chris was pretty sure Leon liked spaghetti—he seemed to have expressed interest in the different pasta dishes at one of Claire’s barbecues back in the day. The meal seemed like the best option for now. Grabbing a pot, he began to boil the water, putting some salt in before looking in the spice drawer. Luckily, he had some dried basil left from the last time he went shopping and he grabbed the small jar. He liked to add extra flavor to the food he made.

He heard the shower turn on, the water moving through the piping audible. Chris leaned against the counter, waiting for the noodles to finish cooking. He hoped Leon would like it. He was a little nervous about having the man live with him for the next month, not because he didn’t want him there—he definitely wanted him there—but because he wanted to make sure Leon felt comfortable. He wasn’t sure where exactly they stood with each other and he wasn't about to mess this up. Leon meant too much to him; he didn’t want to be too forward. Plus, Chris could tell that something was bothering the man, and he just wished Leon would talk to him. They had cleared up their feelings for each over the past month, sharing kisses and freely touching each other, but there was something in Leon’s eyes that made Chris think that the younger man didn’t believe Chris’ feelings were real, and that made his chest ache. He would have to prove it to him somehow. He wasn’t leaving—no matter what happened. He promised himself he would help Leon recover, physically and mentally.

The pot began to boil and Chris threw the noodles in, frowning as he imagined Leon in that bar again. If he hadn’t shown up when he did…he didn’t want to think about how much more the man would have drank—

How far he would have gone.

| Next-> |

[spooniechef]

Lasagne (1-2 spoons)

Another one that serves well for both your “batch cooking” needs and your “stick it in the oven for awhile without doing much else to it” needs is lasagne. I like lasagne but had never made it myself; gluten-free ready-meal lasagne exists but is too expensive, so I gave it up for awhile after discovering the gluten intolerance issue. Still, I was interested enough in trying to make my own that I asked for a baking dish for Christmas a couple of years ago, and is part of why I started getting into the concept of batch cooking to help save spoons in the first place. Lasagne’s hearty, has all the food groups you need, and keeps well in the freezer, so it seemed like a good way to start.

I’m going to start with some notes, because there’s a couple of different ways to approach lasagne sauces. You can just buy the stuff in jars, but while I recommend that for the white sauce (bechamel sauce is a pain in the ass), the red sauce in jars is never quite as good. So here’s a rough approximation of my recipe for bolognaise sauce, since it’s going to be a key component here.

Here’s what you’ll need:

1 packet ground beef (not too fatty, but not too lean either)

1 large onion, chopped

Spices to taste (I generally use paprika, chilli powder, celery salt, garlic pepper, and seasoned salt)

1/2 zucchini (or courgette if you live on my side of the Atlantic), quartered

1 packet button mushrooms, sliced

1 can / packet passatta (if you can’t find passatta, just get a can of chopped tomatoes and use a blender / hand mixer to get the right consistency)

2 tablespoons tomato puree

3-6 cloves garlic, minced

1 tablespoon Worcestershire sauce

1 tablespoon steak sauce (A1 works best, but any barbecue sauce will do)

1 tablespoon soy sauce

1/2 teaspoon tabasco sauce

1 beef stock cube

Pepper, basil, oregano, sage, thyme to taste

Quick note on the herbs - I'm generally talking about fresh herbs in those situations. Another thing I did when I got my diagnosis was start an herb garden on my balcony and windowsills. I highly recommend it for the dedicated foodie - even those of us with limited spoons. I’ll go into why in another entry, and show just what can be accomplished with limited spoons and a north-facing apartment in a country famous for being overcast a lot. But for those who don’t have an herb garden, use about a half-teaspoon each of dried or a tablespoon or so of the mixed Italian herb blends you can buy and that should be fine.

Here’s what you do:

Spice the meat to taste; in a large, deep frying pan, cook the meat and onion until the beef is mostly browned and the onions are transparent

Add garlic, mushrooms and zucchini; heat for 1-2 minutes

Add everything else; stir thoroughly so everything is fully mixed

If you have one, put a lid on the pan; let simmer on medium-low heat for at least 20 minutes

The stock cube gives the sauce a nice bit of earthy richness, and the various sauces give it a bit of depth and kick - all of it acting as a complement to the beef. If you’re a vegetarian, just leave out the beef and the beef stock cube and use the entire courgette and another packet of button mushrooms.

This is good as a batch-cooking staple because it keeps well, freezes well, and can be used either just as a standalone pasta sauce, as the sauce for a pasta bake, or as the red sauce for a lasagne. Because it keeps so well, you don’t even have to decide on which right away. But for the sake of the rest of this post, lasagne.

Here’s what you’ll need:

1 can white sauce (otherwise known as bechamel; if you want to make it yourself, you’re a braver person than I am)

Red sauce (see above, or use your own variation, or just a jar of the store-bought stuff in a pinch)

Little bit of oil or butter

1 packet lasagne sheets

1 packet cheese (cheddar or mozarella) to top

This becomes a one-spoon recipe if your red and white sauces are pre-made, one way or the other. It’s a two-spoon recipe if you’re making bolognaise for it fresh on the day. I figure trying to make your own white sauce would bring it up to three spoons, which is why I don’t advise it.

Here’s what you do:

Preheat oven to about 355F (180C, 160C fan assist, gas mark 4)

Grease your baking dish on all sides and along the bottom (this will stop things sticking to the baking dish and make serving and cleaning easier)

Coat the bottom of the baking dish with a layer of the red sauce; cover with a layer of lasagne sheets; spread a layer of white sauce over that

Keep alternating red / noodle / white for about three layers (that should see you to the end of the jar of white sauce); make sure that the top layer is completely covered by the white sauce

Top the entire thing with a layer of cheese

Bake for 45 minutes or until the top is bubbling and lightly browned

Just one note this time, and it’s about the same as the one I gave about the chicken broccoli pasta bake - if you’re using dairy-free cheese, you probably won’t get the same bubbling and browning as you would with regular cheese. You should still take it out of the oven at about the 45 minute mark.

So there you go - two recipes for the (nonexistent) price of one - pasta sauce and lasagne. Depending on your preferred portion size, the lasagne should make 4-6 servings, and again, it keeps well and freezes well, so it’s good even if you only have yourself to cook for.

[dinosaurchurch]

One thing I will shamelessly admit I absolutely love is pumpkin spice scented or flavoured stuff. Fall is absolutely my favourite time of year for the scents and colours - heck even the candles that a lot of companies put out this time of year scratch that itch for me.

I wanted to try and make a dupe of some of the drinks I typically order from Starbucks although tone down on the sweetness (I don't really like sweet flavours save for cookies or other baked goods). I'm happy to say it's a success, really simple to make now that I have all the ingredients and needless to say much cheaper too.

I've perfected making cold brew and now I've perfected the pumpkin spice iced latte. I find that through a little bit of trial and error you can get good at anything culinary wise. Everyone has different tastes so you can tweak things as you go.

It's great to have made my own pumpkin spice blend too! I guess I'll be making these guys year round - that's a win-win in my land!

I used a 16oz mug here. All you need is 8oz of coffee, ice to taste, 1tbsp of maple syrup, 1/2 tsp of pumpkin spice, 1 tbsp of pumpkin puree, and 4tbsp of 18% coffee cream. Pour your coffee over ice in your mug, shake the rest of the ingredients in a mason jar with the lid on - pop the lid off and pour the mixture on top of the coffee then sprinkle a little bit more pumpkin spice over it. Voila! You're done!

Cold brew is really easy to make too btw. It's just a ratio of 1tbsp of coffee grounds per 3oz of water. I put my coffee grounds in some tea filters that I had (I typically buy the one's from David's Tea - they're sturdy and fairly cheap if you get them on sale). Pour cold water in with your coffee, let it sit for 18-20hours and then remove the coffee and keep your cold brew in the fridge. Enjoy.

Cheers and happy coffee drinking!

[thedreamydemon]

I don’t know what I wanna do with my self-indulgent knox hillbilly fic anymore. Here’s some wip writing (some spice, 18+)

In the shower, you were washing dirt off your knees with delightfully hot water. Your skin still felt the memory of Johnny’s reckless touch. You knew things were going to be different now, but you didn’t regret it. You wanted to do it again. And again. And again. You smiled giddily into the spray from the shower head.

Johnny was waiting for you in your living room. You toweled your hair dry and put on a clean t-shirt and soft black panties. Something comfortable, but sexy. Normally, you would’ve at least worn some shorts around him.

Johnny definitely noticed your skimpy choice of outfit when you made your way to the couch to sit with him. His eyebrow cocked up then he quickly averted his eyes back to the book he was looking at, moonshine jar poised in the other hand… and the second you realized that book he was looking at was your sketchbook you jumped up and tried to snatch it from him. Johnny reacted quickly, he grabbed the book with both hands and tugged it out of your grasp. Moonshine splashed on himself, the book, and the couch in the process.

“Don’t look at it!” You didn’t mean to scream like that. Johnny knew you liked to draw. He knew you liked the comics. But he had never looked in your sketchbook before. It was almost like your diary.

You were standing over the privacy invader, between the couch and the coffee table that he rested his socked feet on. You made an attempt to snatch your sketchbook again, but Johnny was faster and stronger than you with longer arms.

“You know,” Johnny’s glasses were resting on the tip of his nose and he flipped through some more pages. “There’s a lot of pictures of me in here.”

Your face was bright red, but you plopped your ass on the couch next to Johnny anyway. You snatched the jar of moonshine from his hand, which he allowed, and took a healthy swallow. “Those aren’t you! You’re so conceited.”

Johnny turned the sketchbook towards you. His finger rested on a drawing that was undeniably him, with his pointy nose, dark eyes, and dark, gelled hair. “That’s not me?” He questioned.

“It’s not you.” You couldn’t contain your smile as you spoke the untruthful words and pressed the moonshine jar to your lips.

Johnny flipped to the next page and found another portrait of himself, which he flashed in your direction. “That’s me. Clear as day.”

You puffed like a pouty toddler. “It’s not.” You lied again and took another sip of moonshine to wash away your embarrassment.

Johnny was relentless with his teasing sometimes. He set your sketchbook down on the couch, on the side opposite you, so he could keep guard of it. “If I was a little more conceited,” Johnny started. He took the moonshine jar from you and had swig. “I’d think you had a crush on me.”

You let out an offended gasp and shifted your seat, causing the couch to creak. “No! That’s stupid. You’re my friend. We’ve been friends forever.”

“So?” Johnny purred teasingly. “That didn’t stop me.”

You eyed Johnny suspiciously, and damn if you didn’t feel a little butterfly in your belly. Though you weren’t sure if Johnny was serious, or if he was just being a flirt. “what are you getting at?”

“Remember that time we went skinny dippin’ together?” As if you could forget. Johnny leaned forward to place the now empty moonshine jar on the table. “I thought my heart was about to beat out my chest. I liked you way before that though. I probably shouldn’t tell you that.”

“Why not?” The redness had faded from your face and you pulled a blanket from the armrest over yourself.

“Cuz of Bam.” Johnny waved his hand dismissively. “And how you’re gonna marry him and all that.”

“I don’t wanna talk about Bam tonight.” Hearing your boyfriend’s name left a pit in your stomach. You shook him from your thoughts and scooted closer to Johnny. Johnny removed his glasses and draped his arm over your shoulder. Maybe you were a bad person. “Can I sleep on the couch with you?” You asked.

“Of course, sweetheart.”

……….

You woke up to the sound and smell of butter sizzling in a frying pan. Your sore body sat up to see Johnny making eggs and toast on your stove. Candy was at his feet, begging for scraps.

“What is this?” You questioned as you lazily walked into your kitchen.

“Making breakfast,” Johnny answered simply. He used a spatula to scoop a fried egg from the frying pan and place it on a slice of toast. “I know you always got a ton of eggs, so I thought you wouldn’t mind.”

Johnny smelled and looked fresh, even though he was wearing the same clothes from last night. He must have showered while you were sleeping. He even shaved his face, presumably with one of your razors.

“I just hope you’re not getting any ideas,” you said as you took a plate from Johnny and sat at the dining table. Johnny poured you a cup of coffee, and you plucked a half-smoked cigarette from the glass ashtray on the table. You smoked it as you watched Johnny finish cooking. “I don’t want you running around thinking you’re my boyfriend or something.”

“Nah. Not at all.” Johnny sat across from you with his own plate and cup off coffee. He wasn’t wearing his sunglasses. He stared at you while he ate and you stared right back.

You blew a puff of smoke at him. Johnny gave you an annoyed look, but he kept eating. “Man, I almost forgot how grumpy you are in the morning.” Johnny finished up his plate. “We can forget all about last night, sweetheart. Like it never happened.”

You stamped your cigarette out in the ashtray. “No. I don’t want that.”

“What?” Johnny chugged his cup of coffee. He noticed the way your eyes shyly fluttered to the side, the way your neck was slightly craned, and that tiny, temptress curl in your lip. “You wanna screw?” He asked.

Your lips curled further upward. “If you want to.”

Johnny’s chair made a grating squeal against the floor as he stood up. He pulled your seat out and it made the same grating sound. He used his arm to sweep your plate and coffee cup off the table. They landed on the floor with an awful crash, and Candy rushed over to clean the food off the floor. Then Johnny hoisted you up by your waist and plopped your ass on the dining table. He gave you that devilish smile of his, the one he gave when he was feeling full of himself. With his hands on your thighs, he said, “of course I’ll screw you, princess.”

Johnny lifted your shirt over your head and you giggled, “On the table, Johnny? Where I eat?!“ You feigned offense.

Johnny ogled your tits as he undid his pants to free his already hard cock. “As good a place as any.”

Johnny grabbed your legs and pulled you closer to the edge of the table. His bare erection rubbed against your inner thigh as he leaned in to suck on your neck and grope your tits. You’ll admit it felt scandalous to fool around with Johnny after all these platonic years. Though, it didn’t feel wrong. You knew each other well, and you loved each other.

One of Johnny’s hands deftly trailed down your body, causing you to flinch when it reached your lower belly. Johnny responded with a love nip to your throat, like a rogue tomcat would do to the neighbor’s cat in heat. His hand pressed onward. First, he gently circled your clit over your panties. Then, his fingers hooked under the thin fabric to feel your wet folds.

Your hand was in Johnny’s hair, massaging his scalp, and you let out wanton, little sighs as his fingers worked on you. A groan came from Johnny’s throat, “I’m gonna make this whole fucking house shake.” Then he forced your legs open wider. He guided his cock to your entrance and pushed himself in, then out, then in a little further. His body was already shaking with pleasure and his breathing was becoming heavier. “Ah, fuck,” finally, his whole length was inside. “Lay back, sweetheart.” And you did as Johnny said.

Johnny positioned your legs so that they were resting on his chest and your ankles met his shoulders. Johnny grabbed an ankle and kissed the side of your foot, the arch, your heel, and he started humping into you faster. He gets faster and faster, until he’s panting like a dog and the tabletop is rattling. Your loud moans sang praises to Johnny.

Johnny looked down at you. You could see sweat already forming on his forehead and upper lip, which he licked off. “Tell me I’m better than Bam,” Johnny huffed out while bucking his hips into you harder. “Tell me I fuck you better.”

[theforumcat]

You said you had home made macaroni! Did you make it yourself? If so, can you share the recipe? Thank you!

oooooooooh. Uhhh.

No? Yes, but no?

A lot of things I know how to make I just Know How To Make. I have a lot of extremely varied cooking heritage (from a dad who loved to cook, to a couple of chef apprenticeships, to devoted study of my family’s sort of folk-hero matriarch) that has resulted in a great deal of foods that I can just… make.

So I know how to make macaroni and cheese, which is actually very easy, but unfortunately the closest thing to a recipe for the macaroni I made the other day would be:

Pasta (it was a kale and spinach spiral, because that’s the pasta I use for everything) - about 3/4 box

Milk (I used goat milk because I tend to use goat milk, but any milk is fine. Thicker is better, so ideally cream or super creamy non dairy. Buttermilk is also yummy) - how much? Idk. The right amount. I think a cup?

Buttermilk powder - a tablespoon. Ish. I just use a regular spoon and eyeball it. It goes in a lidded cup with the milk (I use a jam jar)

Flour - like two tablespoons. Also goes into the milk

Flour - like two tablespoons. Does NOT go in the milk

Butter - probably half a stick but I really wasn’t paying that much attention

Pasta water - one cup, set off the the side. This is like the only thing I used a measuring cup for, and of course it’s just as a reservoir container for something used as needed

Lemon juice - a whole lemon’s worth. I left the pulp in; it wasn’t hurting anyone.

Garlic - a whole head, crushed

White onion - somewhere between a quarter and half cup, minced. Probably closer to half. Big handful.

Cayenne pepper - a little sprinkle

Chicken bouillon concentrate - a bit

Cheese - two cups ish of extra sharp white cheddar, grated

1. Butter in pan. Hot. Melting.

2. Garlic, onion, stock concentrate. Let the onion kinda disappear and the onion and garlic start to smell good. Splash in some lemon juice but not all

3. Put flour over it and whisk in. Let this brown up and brown up and brown up, and do not let it stop moving at any point ever (okay, it’s not actually that fussy, but until you get the hang of making roux start with those instructions)

4. once you have decided that letting it brown up any more is going to scorch, add the rest of the lemon juice and turn the heat down

5. Shake the milk and company container vigorously for a while. If you think you have finished, shake it that much again. Do not accidentally churn the milk into butter, but do get it really good and mixed and frothy

6. Add some cheese to the pan and let it start getting melty, whisking into the butter and lemon

7. Add the milk jar

8. Get it hot enough to maybe simmer but not boil and keep adding cheese a bit at a time until you’re out of cheese. If the sauce gets too thick (flour-gloopy or cheese-stringy) add splashes of pasta water to smooth it back out

9. Cayenne pepper to taste

10. Mix in pasta

I tried to make this as helpful as possible, but I do a lot of cooking wherein “cup” means literally just whatever cup was at the front of the cupboard, or sometimes a really full handful, or just however much I decided to put in and call a cup. A lot of my steps are just “cook it” or “make sauce” or whatever, and while this is a little more specific, because it’s in particular the white cheddar and lemon macaroni variant I made the other day and quite a simple thing, anything with a bigger list of ingredients will vary wildly on what’s actually in there (what’s in Cheeseburger soup? Cheese, beef, tomato paste, vegetables. what vegetables? Vegetables!) or anything that isn’t a specific variant (like if I just gave you a “Mac n cheese recipe”) will often include illuminating entries such as “spices.” Somewhere I have a recipe card that just lists “the spices,” and you just have to know/intuit/decide/guess what that means. There are also a lot of things measured in “assloads,” “some,” and “splooshes” and “splashes” (and the precise amount that qualifies as some or an assload, of course, varies by ingredient). Sometimes I’ll also work in helpful measurements like “bowl full” and it will be several different bowls.

Anyway, I am a disaster cook but the things I make are very good. I’ve got that sweet, sweet ancestral guidance and blessing~

[chasingwreckage]

open to: best friend / significant other. :3 // i am so incredibly sorry that i am technically controlling whoever responds muse but i needed to set the scene. and it will not happen after anyone's response. but again, i needed more petty!zane in my life. so have this. | @indiestarter

Zane let out a long, suffering sigh, resting his forearms on the shopping cart handle as he watched them—his friend, his partner, his victim—stand frozen in the condiment aisle, deep in contemplation over two nearly identical bottles of sauce. It had been five minutes. Five. An eternity in grocery store time. “Y’know,” he started, his voice dangerously casual, “if you were trying to set a world record for ‘Most Dramatic Decision Over a $3 Bottle of Dressing,’ I think you’ve won.” They ignored him, still weighing their options like this was some critical life choice.

Zane hummed, barely suppressing a smirk. “Alright. You wanna take forever? Fine.” And with that, he reached for the shelf beside him and, without breaking eye contact, started chucking random items into the cart. One. Two. Three different mustards—because apparently, variety was the spice of his petty revenge. A jar of pickled something-or-other. A hot sauce with a name so aggressive it had to be a bad idea. A single can of Spam, because why not? By the time they turned around, he was reaching for yet another bottle. “Zane—what the hell are you doing?”

He arched a brow, feigning innocence. “What? You took too long. Now we’re getting ten kinds of mustard.” He gestured toward the cart, where his masterpiece of unnecessary grocery chaos was proudly displayed. “Put it back.”

“No.” Their eyes locked in silent battle, the tension thick with a mix of exasperation and amusement. “So help me, if you don’t put that stuff back—” Zane smirked, crossing his arms. “Guess you better hurry up and pick that dressing, then. Otherwise, I will start grabbing things from the frozen section.” And the worst part? They knew he would.

[stevishabitat]

Pantry Meal: Breakfast Shake

Oh, you wanted more pantry meals?

How about my breakfast?

Admittedly, it's probably not things that everyone will have in their pantry, but you can substitute with things you do have.

Rolled oats

Sweetened hot cocoa powder

Chia seeds

Hemp protein

Water

I put it in a jar in the fridge overnight, and depending on the proportion of dry ingredients to water, it either makes a thick pudding or something like a shake. I don't bother blending it, I just shake it and slurp it through a biggish straw, straight out of the fridge.

I struggle with eating in the morning, which is killer for my chronic migraines and brain fog. If I don't get protein and carbs first thing when I wake up, I am screwed for the rest of the day and potentially several days after.

When I can afford it, I get pre-made protein shakes. When I can't.... stuff like this happens.

There will be days I can't choke this down (because: texture - kiddo calls it 'breakfast sludge' and they aren't wrong), and my fall-back is always peanut butter on bread.

But the ingredients in this shake thing are extremely well-rounded for breakfast for me. And sometimes I have another one before bed if I feel hungry enough to not be able to fall asleep.

I've definitely switched out the chocolate with other things - defrosted frozen fruit, applesauce, I even used pumpkin puree recently with pie spices and it was really good!

Just this week, we got some peanut butter and jam, so I've been making pb&j ones.

If you have dairy or non-dairy milk, or yogurt, that would be good too!

Get creative! Pantry meals don't have to be boring if you let yourself think outside the box.