#and there's so much more to cooking than just dumping shit in a pot on high heat lol

[slippery-minghus]

Can you share the recipe you used for the chocolate cinnamon haupia 🥺🙏

hell yeah!! i kinda bullshitted the pudding recipe based off of a few other recipes + past experience, so here ya go!!

(i had previously opened an 18oz can of coconut cream and these measurements are based on that leftover amount of coconut. it made about... 1.75cups of pudding. if you have a full 18oz can, i'd say roughly double these amounts)

10oz coconut cream (regular coconut milk works just fine, but the cream is definitely nicer)

3/8 cup cocoa powder (better cocoa = better pudd)

1tbsp vanilla extract

1/2tsp salt

3/8 cup brown sugar (regular sugar is ok, i just always use brown sugar for everything)

1tbsp arrowroot powder (probably needed a bit more. or equivalent amount of cornstarch)

1.5tbsp (i think) cinnamon (i was a little overzealous with the cinnamon) (also if you have it maybe also include a pinch of nutmeg+allspice+clove here for a more well rounded spice)

dump the coconut cream into a small heavy-bottom saucepan. i used my little ramen pot—anything that will have even and consistent contact with the burner. heat on medium (4/10 heat). whisk a bit to even out the consistency, since the cream will probably be a bit separated.

add the cocoa powder. first 1/4 cup, then whisk until fully dispersed. it didn't look dark enough so i added another half a 1/4 cup. keep adding cocoa til it looks chocolatey!

add salt, 1/4 cup sugar, and a moderate pour of vanilla. whisk. keep gently whisking. taste it. is it sweet enough? if not add another 1/8 cup of sugar (or just another brown sugar clump lol)

keeeeeep whisking. add in your thickener (arrowroot/corn starch) and cinnamon. whisk more.

by now if your stove is decent, you'll be starting to boil a bit. keep whisking. never stop (gently!) whisking. lightly scrape the bottom of the pot with the whisk. a little down there will stick/burn, but that's okay. it cleans out after a soapy hot water soak well enough.

whisk for 2-5 minutes at that low boil. you might need to lower the heat a notch here, but don't let it get so cold it stops wanting to bubble the instant you stop stirring. corn starch will thicken faster than arrowroot during this phase.

kill the heat and pour into a bowl. scrape out every last drop with a spatula. lick the spatula. revel in your creation. seal bowl with lid/plastic wrap and refrigerate for a few hours until cold. placing the bowl in the fridge on top of/surrounded by ice packs will expedite this process (while also not disturbing your fridge's standing temp too much)

enjoy!!!

[exopelagic]

I can tell im getting good at cooking bc I can innovate new dishes such as ‘shit on toast’ and have it be good

[captain-marble]

silly thought that i’ve been rotating at might write someday (although knowing me…)

anyways!

someone gets mad and pranks the justice league by releasing clips of their embarrassing moments on tower (nothing that could reveal identities but still embarrassing)

it’s stuff like marvel failing at cooking

batman being sleep deprived and trying to parent different league members (namely marvel)

flash running into walls and things (a lot)

superman being afraid of a shoe and litterally leaping into the air to get away from it. (it was green)

anyways everyone find this hillarious and the members are a lil mortified. But fawcett takes it into their own hands to give marvel food (litterally he has too much food to know what to do with) to the point he ends up like going around sharing it with the homeless kids and stuff

not only that but the league decide to take it into their own hands to teach marvel. cut to videos being released of marvel learning to cook with different leaguers

superman: marv can you pass me a rolling pin? so what you’ve got to do is-

marvel looking at a pot of utensils questioning…. before tentatively holding out a masher: ?

superman: (blinks)

supes probably teaches him how to make apple pie and talk about how if you don’t use the sugar you can use the pie crust to make savoury pies too and blah blah life hack. his parents probably mean he’s the worst offender for trying to shove food or recipes onto marvel

hal and barry prolly teach him how to make like single guy with a shitty job type grind shit that’s like carb loaded and you can just bulk make and store ands got everything you need (cuz they always busy as hell and ain’t rich or anything so don’t got the time or stuff to make tons of food) (it kinda looks like struggle food but yk it gets them through)

hal: so yeah you just dump everything in and if it starts to look radioactive then you know it’s cooked-

billy ‘orphan street rat will eat anything’ batson: damn bitch you live like this? /silly

diana teaches him a greek dish from her childhood that she thinks marvel would feel nostalgic for (i mean billy doesn’t but he remembers eating it in past lives and the thought diana put into it really comforts him)

bruce either a) refuses to teach marvel anything as he himself cannot cook and won’t let the work know that (as all of these cooking videos have been being leaked to the internet who are EATING IT UP like it’s not just fawcett anymore everyone loves cap now becuase you can tell he’s just that authentic cuz his ass does not know these are being filmed) b) cannot cook so it ends up just being a hot mess c) they learn to make a new recipe together d) he has alfred teach him how to make something so he doesn’t embarrass himself e) he teaches marvel how to make struggle food that’s worse than hal and barry’s

marvel: aren’t you funded by a billionaire?

batman: hm

marvel: batman….damn bitch you live like this???????????

everyone just dogs on batman online for like banging bruce wayne (no one believes that the butts match :/ ) and yet still being ass at cooking, like bro is at nuclear levels of damn you live like this with his struggle food

anyways cap finds out about the cooking with cap vids and immediately gets all embarrassed that people know he sucks at cooking, fawcett lay off a little on giving him food now they know that the JL are helping him, but he regularly receives copies of old cook books and someone’s nans favourite recipe and stuff and he’s taking home enough food from the JL to actually eat well and is therefore a lot happier and so the JL are like wow marv really likes cooking, and so at least like once a week (usually more) someone (or sometimes just he will) will cook with him and he’ll take home the left overs (if people eat any otherwise he just takes it all himself (despite him frantically offering the food out to people cuz he feels bad for taking so much))

years later when the identity reveal happens they’re like wow??? this makes so much sense???? i’m so glad we’ve been inadvertently feeding the homeless child??? yippee for him not starving and being more healthy that he would’ve been????

but yeah it’s so silly and i think billy would actually love having the chance to eat foods he’s never had before, especially where he spent so long on the streets that he kinda was forced to like ration and buy cheap food, so like he’s being treated by trying new foods and risking not liking it and stuff

but yeah i just think cap cooking and baking is neat teehee

[suzukiblu]

WIP excerpt from the one where Krypton lives and Kara did not sign up for this.

Only Kal would manage to get his DNA stolen on a planet called “Earth”, of all the godsdamned stupid places.

Might as well just be named “The Planet” or something, she swears. 

“All three it is,” Kara says, waving open her wall storage and grabbing her rice pot out of it. She only has the one because she's never had to cook for anyone else in her life, much less anyone who was staying with her, but she'll make it work. 

Somehow. 

Can't be any worse than pulling off mission-critical military maneuvers in shit conditions with untried and under-trained new recruits, she figures. 

. . . though she is admittedly more prepared for that situation than this one, if it comes to it. 

Look, that’s just experience, alright? She’s been on a thousand maneuvers and missions she didn’t have the resources for, but Kal doesn’t get cloned every day. 

Well, at least not when he’s not on incredibly uncreatively named alien planets, anyway. 

Kara dumps three times the usual amount of rice into her rice pot while Thirteen hovers just outside the kitchen and Match stands very, very still beside him. Neither of them says anything else, though Thirteen looks like he might want to. He seems to be the talker, from what Kara can tell. 

Or at least, he’s the one they’ve designated to be the talker. He asks more questions, and sometimes Match looks at him like he’s expecting him to ask a question. Even if they don’t necessarily get along, they seem to be cooperating at least that much. 

Well, it makes sense. They’re the only other successful Kryptonian-human clones that anyone’s aware of existing, and they know cloning is illegal on Krypton, and Kal isn’t here right now. Who else are they going to rely on when meeting a total stranger? 

Even a total stranger who is, technically, family. 

Or at least arguably, anyway. 

Her house communicator plays a familiar identifying little melody as she’s juggling her spheres of katso sauce and dried spygin in one arm while trying to dig out the last couple of bly fruit she <i>knows</i> she had shoved in the back of her cold storage, which admittedly is a bit cluttered with premade meals right now. Or . . . always, pretty much. 

In her defense, she really doesn’t cook very much. Or very well. Or . . . at all, really, when she can avoid it. 

She’s a grown woman and a decorated general, alright? She doesn’t need to cook if she doesn’t want to. 

“Accept call,” she instructs briskly, and the communicator’s holoscreen materializes to her side. Thirteen startles slightly; Match doesn’t so much as twitch. Doesn’t so much as breathe either, though, so she’s pretty sure he was startled too. At least, that’s the impression she’s been getting from the way he’s reacted to things so far. 

Avoided reacting to things, more like. 

“Oh, look who’s finally calling,” she says, eyeing Kal’s image on her projected screen. He looks just barely harried and the slightest bit sheepish, and she can see a dark-haired woman who’s presumably his new wife sitting behind him in his home office wearing peculiar clothing that is definitely not Kryptonian, but also doesn’t look nearly as indecent as what Thirteen and Match both showed up wearing. She seems occupied with a reader, and keeps activating and deactivating it like she’s never seen anything like it before. 

So probably the wife, yes. Lois Kal-El, née Sam-Lane, according to Kal’s previous calls. Though he also says that humans have slightly different naming schemes than Krypton does. And apparently more varied ones than Krypton does, too. 

Why Kal apparently made sure his grown wife was more appropriately dressed than the children were is beyond her, though.

[simplepotatofarmer]

seconds

a short (1,089 words) rivals duo fic about food as love and friendship for @sixteenth-day-event's love month.

Dream didn’t cook.

He had lived on golden apples and pieces of beef that could only charitably be called ‘steak’ and ‘cooked’ and then later he had lived on potatoes, raw and mealy. It had taken months to get the taste out of his mouth. Months of Techno encouraging him to eat until Dream was able to keep down more than a few bites at a time.

It had to be frustrating. Dream had been frustrated, knowing that he needed to eat and knowing his stomach and mind would rebel against it. There had been times he had lashed out and had swept the dish off the table and Techno had rolled his eyes and called him a toddler and a baby and cleaned up the mess.

And he still cooked for Dream, despite it all.

This is so stupid, thought Dream with a groan.

He gripped the edge of the counter and looked down. Half the ingredients of Techno’s pantry sat out: carrots, mushrooms, onions, even potatoes. There were herbs that Dream didn’t know but had passed his sniff test and raw beef that he had dug out of the ice chest.

He had no idea what he was doing.

If Techno was here, Dream would ask him but he was out all day with Phil doing something that was supposed to be secret but Dream knew about anyway because Techno talked and, besides, this was meant to be a surprise.

“How—How hard can it be?” Dream asked the empty kitchen, trying to hype himself up. Outside, the sun was just a little below the halfway point in the sky. “It’s just fucking vegetables and shit in water.”

It was a lot harder than Dream thought.

His hands shook trying to chop the vegetables evenly, the missing fingers making it hard to grip the knife properly and there was one moment where his hand slipped and he grazed his finger, a tiny drop of blood welling up, and Dream had to sit down until he stopped feeling as if his head was full of static. But he had done it.

He had chopped the vegetables (even the potatoes) and then had cut the meat into chunks and had to stop himself from thinking about how easily a person could be carved up. As soon as he was done, Dream had tossed the knife into the sink and refused to look at it again.

Wiping his sleeve across his forehead, Dream began to season his stew. He smelled each herb, tasted some of the spices, dumped a little too much salt into the water and scrambled to scoop what he could out and then tried to mask it with a little more pepper and rosemary. He found dandelion greens and added those, too.

It didn’t taste anything like the stews that Techno made. Dream frowned.

He needed something.

In the back of Techno’s pantry, there was a dusty bottle of beetroot wine, labeled with Phil’s handwriting. That would work. Dream carefully scooped out some more of the water and then poured in half the wine. He added more herbs and spices but stayed away from the salt.

It still wasn’t right and Dream went to the ice chest and pulled out the butter and added a chunk.

Then he put the lid on the pot and let it simmer until Techno got home.

• • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • •

Steam rose off the bowl of stew sitting in front of Techno.

Across the table, Dream was watching him intently, his own bowl untouched, hand on the spoon, waiting for Techno to take the first bite.

“Y’know, you really didn’t have to do this, Dream,” said Techno, stirring the stew a bit.

“Yeah, I know but—but you always cook and I thought—I wanted to cook for...” Dream trailed off, shifting in his seat, finally looking away. “Whatever.”

Techno smiled.

“Nah, I appreciate it, man,” he said. “It looks good.”

That wasn’t a complete lie: the vegetables were clearly painstakingly cut into chunks all of a similar size as was the meat and the broth had a hearty, deep red color to it. Unfortunately, it colored almost everything with a reddish-purple tint to it but that was fine.

It certainly looked better than it smelled because it smelled like Techno’s entire spice rack had been dumped into the pot.

But Dream visibly perked up at his words.

“Yeah? I mean, I didn’t have, like, a recipe or anything.”

I can tell, thought Techno. He said, “Listen, Dream, the secret to cookin’ is you’ve got to cook from the heart, alright?”

A blush, pink and splotchy, colored Dream’s cheeks.

“Ugh. Just—Just eat the stupid stew,” said Dream, not moving to pick up his own spoon.

Techno took a bite.

It wasn’t awful though Techno would have never called it good. There was an odd lack of salt and an even odder mix of herbs and spices, not all of which went together, and a buttery taste that he wasn’t expecting. The beetroot wine was a bit overpowering.

He took another bite.

“Is it—is it alright?”

There was an eagerness on Dream’s face, nervousness in his voice, as he watched Techno.

Techno hadn’t been lying when he said the secret was to cook from the heart. The fact Dream had gone out of his way to cook anything when food had been such a sticking point for him, the fact he had willingly used potatoes when there had been a point he would gag at the mere sight of them, meant something.

It meant a lot.

Techno took another bite, bigger than the first two, and spoke around the mouthful.

“It’s amazin’. You wanna do all the cookin’ from now on?”

Dream scoffed but the blush had deepened and a pleased sort of relief had settled on his features. It softened some of the harshness left behind from the prison.

“Hell no.”

“I’m teasin’ you, Dream,” Techno said, still eating.

Dream pushed his spoon around his own bowl. He was quiet for awhile as Techno ate.

“Yeah—Well, to be—to be fair, you do all of the cooking and I know I’m a pain in the ass,” he said, finally, and finally lifted a spoonful of stew to his mouth. Dream’s features twisted in disgust. “This is fucking awful.”

Techno snorted, reaching across the table to pat Dream’s hand.

“I don’t mind.”

One of Dream’s eyebrows jerked upwards.

“Really?”

“Really.” Techno pushed his chair to back to stand. “Now, I’m gonna get another bowl.”

[featherandferns]

Smut with prompt 1 if that’s alright <3

In retrospect, this is not what I had in mind when I said surprise me.

Um, I got REALLY carried away so basically have a short-fic???

feel free to request: prompt list

Happy Anniversary - prompt 1

JJ’s never had an anniversary before. The longest ‘relationship’ he’s been in, before you, lasted a whole two weeks in ninth grade. The farthest they went was holding hands, and that was only because their friends wouldn’t stop heckling for them to. So, when JJ casually asked you what you wanted to do for your one-year anniversary whilst the two of you were walking back from the beach, you shrugged and said possibly the worst answer you could’ve given him. “Surprise me.”

JJ isn’t heartless. He knows what girls like, inside the bedroom and outside. He knows how to woo someone. What to say to have them all mushy and blushing and stuff. Hell, it’d clearly worked with you. But was he romantic? Now that’s a different thing entirely.

It didn’t help that you were rather low maintenance. That you were more than content with date nights that involved surfing and smoking and sometimes a late-night walk. Staying and watching a movie, usually ending up with the film completely neglected and your clothes on the floor. Dinners and presents and all of that weren’t as much your style. You weren’t against them, per say, but as a broke cut-resident yourself, you didn’t care about all the finer things in life.

“Why don’t you buy her a necklace?” John B offers from the deckchair.

“She doesn’t really wear necklaces,” JJ replies from the hammock. “She just has this one chain with her mom’s wedding ring on it. Always wears it.”

“A book?” Pope says.

“Not much of a reader,” JJ returns.

“Why don’t you do something for her instead of buying her something, then?” Kiara tries.

JJ sits up at that, frowning at her. “What’d ya mean?”

“Well, she seems like the kinda girl who likes doing things.”

“Oh, definitely,” JJ replies with a growing smirk.

Kie rolls her eyes at the innuendo. “JJ, gross. I mean, she’s always surfing or crocheting or whatever.”

“I don’t know shit about crocheting,” JJ tells Kie. “She does like to cook though. Makes the best lemon sea bass ever.”

“Why don’t you cook for her then?” Sarah says.

John B and Pope burst into laughter. JJ glares at them, unamused.

“What?” she innocently asks.

“JJ’s level of cooking is a piece of toast,” John B says.

“And even that’s got a fifty-fifty chance of success,” Pope adds.

“Fuck you guys! I can cook! How hard can it be? You just follow a recipe and throw some shit in a pan and then boom,” JJ challenges. They stare up at him, amused and unconvinced. “I can cook!”

“What’s her favourite meal?” Kie asks.

“She likes Italian,” JJ thinks aloud. “Maybe spaghetti and meatballs or something?”

“You’re going to make spaghetti and meatballs? Something that requires three different things being done simultaneously?” Pope asks him, eyebrows raised so high they nearly teeter on greeting his hairline.

“Watch me, golden boy,” JJ grins self-assuredly.

The only form of reply the blonde boy gets is John B digging into his pockets and pulling out a five-dollar bill, which he then holds out to Pope in bet.

~*~*~*~*

The first thought you have as you walk up the porch steps of the chateau is ‘what the hell is that smell?’ It’s something akin to burning, though tinged with an overwhelming stench of garlic and tomato. The second thought you have as you open the door is ‘oh dear God.’

You’re greeted by a cloud of smoke and steam. It stings yours eyes a little. There’s chaos in the kitchen ahead. The clattering of pots and pans and JJ’s mumbled curses. The fact that the fire alarm hasn’t gone off can only mean that it’s broken. Smiling smally to yourself, amused, you dump your bag and cardigan on the pull-out sofa and walk through to the kitchen.

“In retrospect, this is not what I had in mind when I said surprise me,” you say, loud enough for him to hear you over the madness of his cooking.

JJ spins around at the sound of your voice. His hair is sticking in every which way (cap clearly abandoned) which only tells you he’s been stressfully raking his fingers through it. His eyes are wide and frantic like a man who just committed murder. Muscle tee damp with sweat from the overwhelming warmth that is standing in an unventilated kitchen of mayhem.

“I told you to come at eight,” he says.

You quirk a brow. “It is eight.”

“Wha—” His eyes flit to the clock on the wall, to the right of you. He cusses under his breath.

“What are you doing?”

“I’m…Well, I’m…”

You watch as he looks around at the chaos, as if coming to from sleepwalking. Your brow quirks higher still. “Starting a small house fire?”

“Cooking you dinner,” he corrects, shooting you a glare. “For our anniversary.”

Your smile can’t help but grow at that. Heart does a little summersault. He’s never cooked you dinner before (and now you can see why).

“Spaghetti and meatballs,” JJ adds, driven by your expression it seems. But then his confidence dwindles as he gestures lamely to the hob. The smoke and steam coming from it is the source of the garlic-tinged smell monstrosity. “But it’s, uh, not exactly going to plan.”

“In what way?”

“Well, to start, the pasta isn’t going all soft and stuff. It’s just sorta sticking to the pan,” he sighs, annoyed.

“Well, how much water did you add to it?”

He looks to you, blank. “I’m supposed to add water?”

You stare at him, gaping a little. Seriously?

Walking to the hob, looking down into the pan…Yep. That is just pasta, glued and burnt and probably never coming free. Then, you glance into the second pan. Pasta sauce that is weirdly brown-ish in colour, saturated with garlic (you can tell from smell alone) and mixed herbs that haven’t been diced properly, leading them to float at the top like driftwood. The meatballs are burnt past the point of no return. Chargrilled. The cooking top is covered in splatters of sauce and seasonings, making it filthy. The countertops are cluttered with every cooking utensil and appliance under the sun: spoons, knives, spatulas and even whisks (?). A bowl of grated cheese sits sadly to the side; the only thing that survived JJ’s culinary hand.

But, despite the catastrophe that it is, you can’t help but feel your heart thrum happily. Ironically, it’s the most romantic thing you’ve ever had done for you and is weirdly the perfect anniversary celebration. All of this took thought and time and effort. So, turning around, facing a very meek, embarrassed JJ who stands with his back against the fridge, hands shoved in his pockets and head hung in defeat, you find yourself smiling lovingly.

Your hands cradle his jaw, drawing his gaze to you, and you lean forward to kiss him. “I love it.”

“You do?”

“I do,” you assure. “And I love you.” Then you’re kissing him again.

JJ’s hands find home on your waist as he kisses you back, smiling. Pulling away after a moment, a little breathless, you glance over your shoulder. “I love it,” you repeat, “but I don’t think we should eat it.”

“Oh, definitely not,” JJ agrees quickly. The two of you laugh.

Another fleeting kiss and then you’re stepping out of his hold, the two of you moving to turn everything off. You toss the pan of pasta into the sink and run the tap, dunking half a bottle of washing up liquid in. Maybe that might give it a fighting chance. JJ half-arsedly piles up all the cooking utensils he’d used so there’s some more space. He then moves to the fridge to put away the grated cheese (no point letting it go to waste) whilst you tip the sauce and meatballs down the drain or into the bin.

“So, the main course might have been a bust,” JJ says with his head still in the fridge.

You chuckle as you lean to crack open every window in the kitchen, hoping to aerate the room. “To put it lightly.”

“But, hey: dessert and wine are still good,” JJ announces.

You shut off the tap and turn around, wiping your hands dry on a towel. He’s holding a tub of chocolate mousse and a bottle of cheap white wine up.

“Dessert’s the best course anyway,” you tell him with a grin that mirrors his own.

With that, the two of you head to the pull out. You swipe two spoons from the drawer on the way whilst JJ grabs a couple of mismatched wine glasses. Sighing as you sit, shuffling back to the pillows, you get to opening the wine. JJ’s wandering around the sitting room, messing with the old CD player, and as you’re filling up two glasses, some soft R&B music kicks on from the early 2000s.

“Oh?” you jokingly say, raising a brow at him.

He rolls his eyes and joins you, taking the outstretched glass you offer him. Smiling, you lean up to kiss him.

“Happy anniversary,” you whisper.

He clinks his glass to yours. “Happy anniversary, baby.”

The two of you drink and then JJ’s placing his glass on the window ledge, moving to open the mousse. You clap your hands happily, rubbing them together with a giggle.

“This might taste like shit,” JJ warns as he grabs one of the spoons. You place your glass on the side too.

“Can’t be much worse than your cooking,” you reply.

He decides not to respond to that, but you watch him roll his eyes mirthfully. Then he’s dipping the spoon in and holding it out for you. Leaning forward, you taste off the spoon.

“Mhm!” you nod, swallowing.

“Good?”

“Good!” you grin.

You take the other spoon and do the same for him, watching as he eats practically from the palm of your hands. His eyes hold your gaze as he does. Shamelessly, you squeeze your legs together. You swear only he could make something this cheesy sexy to you.

“You like it?” you wonder. He licks his lips.

“It’s alright,” JJ says, feigning being in thought (his growing smile giving him away). “Think I know something that tastes better.”

“Oh?”

“Mhm,” he nods, leaning closer until you’re subconsciously sinking onto your back.

Playing along, you innocently ask through your excited smile, “what would that be?”

He takes your spoon from your hold, tossing it to the side after doing the same with his. Hovering over you, JJ leans down so his lips are a breadth’s width from yours.

“I think you know, baby,” he mumbles.

With that, he’s kissing you. Tastes like chocolate and vino. Your hands grab at his face, pulling him nearer, hooking your feet over his legs. JJ sighs against you, chuckles a little as you do too. Breaks away to kiss down your neck, moving slowly down the bed, coming to rest on his knees and dragging you by your feet to pull you nearer, making you laugh all flustered-like. JJ chews on his lower lip, grinning that punch-drunk grin you love, as he pulls off your skirt and panties. Then he’s going down on you. Relentless and unforgiving, as if to make-up for the cooking catastrophe. He’s tongue-fucking your centre and lapping at your wetness.

“Fuck, JJ,” you whimper, eyes slipping shut.

It’s like he’s spurred on by the sounds you make, likes when you whine out his name. You grip at the blankets on the pull-out sofa, staring at the ceiling, moaning through a blissed-out smile. His thumb rubs at your clit as he works at you with newfound fever. Moaning from the taste of you, the sound making you clench your legs tighter against his head. JJ uses a hand to hold one of your legs open for him. It’s all so fucking good. You’re building, closer and closer, until you’re coming with a gasp, quietly chanting his name.

When JJ pulls away, panting, you whine at the loss of his mouth on you. Moving atop of you again, you kiss at his mouth, sighing at the taste of yourself that lingers on his tongue. Your hands hurriedly move to undo his shorts as he kisses you, making him chuckle.

“Need you to fuck me,” you tell him breathlessly.

“Yes, ma’am,” he grins, moving to suck a hickey on your jawline.

Shucking the shorts off – JJ pulling back a moment to help – you slip a hand into his boxers and work at him. He groans against your jaw, falling pliant to your touch, making you smile. But you’re impatient the way he is, and you shove off his boxers.

“I wanna be on top,” you say as he kisses your neck.

“Fuck yes,” he replies. Climbs off you and grabs for your hips, guiding you atop of him as he collapses onto his back. You’re guiding him to your entrance, moaning as he slides against your wetness. As you go to sink down, he’s stopping you, making you meet his gaze. “Wait! We need a condom.”

You shake your head. Move to sink down again.

“Baby, stop, I’m serious,” JJ chuckles, breathless.

Smiling to yourself, you lean down to kiss him. Then, against his lips, you tell him your anniversary gift to him. “I’m on the pill.”

JJ pulls you away from him by the jaw so he can meet your eyes. Through nothing but looks, the two of you have a quick, silent conversation. Really? Yes. Chuckling boyishly, kissing you again, deeper and rushed, you giggle against him.

“Happy anniversary, baby.”

[masterqwertster]

For the Loads of Snuggles and Hugs list, could I request "gently wiping tears from the other's face", with Ashton and FCG?

Snuggles and Hugs Prompt

Once Ashton has their meager little camp between that fucking silver mine and Evishi set up, his dinner slowly cooking over the fire, he beckons the little automaton closer to the rock he’s made a seat out of.

 Fresh Cut Grass wobbles over from where they’d posted up at the edge of Ashton’s bed roll. There’s a distant air to them, like they’re not quite all there in the moment.

“All right, let’s get you cleaned up,” Ashton brusquely announces, wielding a cooking pot full of water and an old rag.

“...Cleaned up?” Fresh Cut Grass hesitantly asks.

“Yeah. Probably should have done this earlier, to be honest. But I figured it might be better to get away from that mess first,” Ashton absently explains, gently pulling the automaton in closer.

“O-okay,” they assent, left hand fingers nervously tugging at the unresponsive fingers of their right hand.

“I mean, unless you want to keep the blood from your friends as a paint job…?” Ashton awkwardly offers. It would definitely be… a look, that’s for sure. Certainly not one Ashton would entertain for himself, but to each their fucking own, you know?

“Wha-! No, no. I don’t– I don’t want that,” the little automaton denies, more life to him than he’s really had since they buried his companions. 

“Okay,” Ashton curtly nods.

The genasi removes the sling he’d put Fresh Cut Grass’s non-functional arm in so it won’t get wet, guiding the limp arm down to hang at the automaton’s side. Then he pours about half of the pot out over their head, letting the water clear what it can without a good scrub.

“Tell me if I’m scrubbing too hard, okay?” Ashton instructs Fresh Cut Grass as they dip the rag into the remaining water. 

They get an absent nod in reply. One that sends droplets of water streaking down his face. 

It’s instinct that has Ashton reaching forward to cradle that metallic face, his thumb gently swiping a drop sliding down from Fresh Cut Grass’s working eye. 

Just like people wipe away another’s tears.

Automatons can’t cry. Ashton knows that. But unlike any other automaton he’s seen, Fresh Cut Grass has feelings. And right now? Right now the little fella is sad as hell. They buried their friends’ rotting, mangled corpses that they’d had to stare at for days only a few hours ago. Who wouldn’t be sad enough to cry from shit like that?

Unfortunately, Ashton is absolute fucking shit at being comforting. They’re too rough, too blunt, too much of an asshole. Not soft at all, not like they used to be, once upon a time. 

Yet they’re all the automaton has got at the moment.

It was bringing forth that forcefully buried piece of Ashton that liked to get attached to people and things like the world’s biggest fucking idiot. That fucking stupid piece of them wanted to be soft, be comforting, even though they’re absolute shit at it. 

And Ashton should not indulge it. There’s no use in being soft. It just shows people where to put the fucking knife later. Just hurts all the more when they fucking leave Ashton, just like they always do.

So maybe Ashton uses a little more force than he needs to clear away the crusty dried blood on Fresh Cut Grass’s faceplate. If he does, the automaton doesn’t protest it. And Ashton works his way down the beaten yellow chassis, clearing away the dark, rust red stains of carnage. His hands unconsciously gentling the further into the silent process he gets.

“Alright, lemme get some fresh water for one last rinse, and then I think we’re done,” Ashton declares, dumping the pot of now-somewhat grimy water out behind them.

It takes no time at all to refill the pot and return. Ashton upends the whole thing over Fresh Cut Grass’s head once more, streaks of water running down the now clean steel and sparkling in the firelight.

“Looking good,” Ashton compliments as they check for any spots they might have missed.

“Th-thank you,” the little automaton trembles as they jerkily nod their head.

Once more, water drips from his eye lenses like tears.

Something in Ashton cracks, and he knows he’s not going to be able to leave this little robit alone. Ever.

“Hey, hey. It’s going to be alright,” they softly whisper, cupping FCG’s face with both hands, thumbing away more tears and pressing their forehead to his. 

“I’ve got you. I’ve got you.”

[sociallyawkwardseal]

Prompt: Fictober: "If you don't stop now--"

Fandom: School Bus Graveyard

Summary: None of the kids can sleep. Based partially off of this image.

Content Warnings: None that I can think of!

Words: 963

“Morning,” Ashlyn said as she shuffled across the kitchen floor, taking a seat on one of the bar stools at the counter. “You guys are up late…”

“We couldn’t sleep,” Logan said, offering a sleepy half-smile as he whisked the bowl. “You couldn’t, either, could you…?”

“Nope.”

“Pretty sure Ty’s awake, too.” Taylor added, stretching her arms above her head. “Our music wasn’t keeping you awake, was it? We tried to keep it pretty quiet, I know you don’t usually sleep with your earplugs in since it’s pretty uncomfy.”

“You’re fine. You guys already have coffee made?” Ashlyn drew a hand closer to her ear, shifting one of the plugs as she watched the coffee pot spit steam out and gurgle.

“Aiden texted and asked us to make some. Guess he knew you were awake? Ty and I don’t really drink it all that much, and Ben didn’t want any, so.”

“Right…” Ashlyn glanced back over her shoulder as Ben tapped the bottom of an empty mug against it—she gingerly took its handle in her fingers and nodded, offering a quiet ‘thanks’ as he turned to go back to the stove. She reached out, taking the coffee pot from its perch and poured herself a cup. “Where is he right now?”

“He went to wash his face off, he should be back in a second. He was still pretty tired, but he said he couldn’t sleep, too.” Logan said. “Do you want pancakes, by the way…?”

“I’m good, but thanks. I don’t really have the biggest appetite right now.”

Taylor reached over to grab her phone from the other side of the counter and opened it—it took her a second, but she quickly lowered the volume of the music playing to the point where it was probably just barely audible to herself and Logan, but still pretty clear to Ashlyn. “‘kay, it is pretty early. Or. Late, I guess, if none of us slept.”

“Yeah…”

“I didn’t expect everyone to be awake.” Tyler, closing the door quietly behind him, grumbled as he stepped into the kitchen. “Aiden, too, I’m guessing?”

“Wouldn’t be everyone without him.” Ashlyn said, glancing back at him. “Are we just trying for an all-nighter again?”

“That’s gonna feel like shit.”

“Sure is, but it’s… What, five in the morning? Your alarms go off in an hour. Mine go off in two.”

“It’s actually about five-twenty.” Aiden beamed, slipping in through the door. “Did you just lay in bed for a few minutes trying to figure out what to do?”

“Kind of. I heard Logan, Taylor, and the music and debated coming in here for a few minutes.”

“Sounds like it was more like twenty minutes.” Tyler quipped lightly, sitting next to her.

“Sounds like you need to cut it out.”

“Can someone hand me the box of mix?” Logan interrupted, glancing behind his shoulder—Aiden was the only one still on his feet and not at the stove. “Or, well. More like just a cup of it. I’m going to make more than just one batch of pancakes since we’re all awake, even if you don’t want some now, it’ll still be good later…”

“Mm?” Aiden leaned down and opened the cabinet, pulling the box out. “Oh, shit, it’s feeling a little light. You sure we’ve got enough for the day?”

“Yeah, there’s a full box towards the back—oh, there should be a measuring cup in there. It’s 1/3rd, so just… Four of those, please.”

Aiden nodded and slid up next to him, dumping three of the cups into the fresh bowl that he had pulled over. “Y’know, you could’ve just added it to the batter you already made, yeah?”

“Ahhh, they might cook wrong if I do that…” Logan half-laughed, waving his hand for a moment. He put the bowl of already-mixed batter a little bit behind Taylor. “I wouldn’t want to risk it… Oh, you can take the measuring cup out of there. I shouldn’t need it anymore, I just forgot to get it out earlier. Taylor? Don’t lean back, your hair will get caught in it…”

“Cool, got it.” Aiden pulled the scoop out, ignoring the small bit of mix still caught inside of it, closed the lid of the box, and put it next to Logan. His eyes drifted from the contents of the scoop towards Tyler briefly, only to return to the scoop once he had nudged the bag back into the cabinet. “Hey, Tyler.”

“Yeah?” He glanced up, looking past Ashlyn—when he saw Aiden’s hands, lightly dusted with mix, one still holding the scoop, he narrowed his eyes. “Oh, hell no. What are you doing with that?”

“Nothin’, just got some extra mix here. Can’t really put it in the sink.”

“Yeah?” Tyler stood, moving towards the door. “Can’t really put it on me, either.”

“Or what?” Aiden teased, pulling a small amount out of the cup and flicking it at him.

“Hey! If you don’t stop now—”

Without letting him finish, Aiden thrust a small cloud of powder hidden inside of his palm towards Tyler, laughing lightheartedly as it coated the side of his face and shoulder.

“Oh, now you’ve done it.” Tyler hissed, wiping flour away from his eye; he moved closer to Aiden, hooking his arm under his as he pulled him closer. “Come here! Give it here!”

Aiden, laughing, pressed one of his pancake mix-covered hands against the clean side of Tyler’s face. “Nope, nope, not getting it!”

In their struggle, flour had managed to coat both of their hands, ending up on various parts of their arms, faces, and clothes.

“Guys, come on…” Taylor laughed, watching them wrestle against each other. “All of the mix is probably gone now. And all over you.”

[good-beanswrites]

Could I request "cooking is an art form" with mahiru and presumbly orekoto? I read your Night drabble of those 2 and now the idea of a potential friendship has been stuck in my mind for days, that was probably the sweetest interpretation of him I've seen! Mahiru can't cook in the current state she's in though so I guess orekoto could act as her hands...?

Ah thank you so much!! I was so worried about doing Orekoto justice, that's so exciting you enjoyed 😭 We still don't have a ton of characterization for him, so bear with me, but I absolutely loved writing this. Thank you so much for the request -- with food playing such an important role in Mahiru's story/symbolism, and the pair's unique relationship, this made me so crazy to think about !!!

The knife twirled through Mikoto’s hands. He brought it down with a grunt. Emotion pulsed through his veins. He went back for another swipe, much harder than necessary. He wiped spatter from his face.

“You’re making a mess.” Mahiru observed from behind. 

He glanced back to find her scowling at the tomato he was taking out his frustration on. “Who gives a shit? We’re not on cleanup duty.” 

He wasn’t supposed to be on cooking duty, either. It was Mahiru’s night according to their usual rotation, but she was in no shape to do any physical activity. Mikoto must have volunteered, and also gotten into some fight about it, because now there he stood: angry at an unknown source, full of adrenaline, and worst of all, in charge of tonight’s curry.

“I suppose…” Mahiru said. “I think that’s Muu tonight, I’ll apologize to her later.”

It was unsettling, how she remained positively cheery as she walked him through each step of the recipe, despite her current condition and his bad attitude. Not that he’d ever turn his anger on her. Mikoto approved of her, and that was enough for him. She’d been going through so much at the hands of their common enemy, he wouldn’t say a single thing against her. Even as she tested his temper with her cooking instructions.

“No, no!” With her good hand, she tugged on the side of his uniform. “You have to turn the carrot as you cut it. Like -- yes, like that!”

Mikoto rolled his eyes as he did what he was told. “It’s all going to get cooked together anyways, it’s not a big deal.”

“It is! You have to take your time with things like this.” She placed her hand over her heart. “It’s about the process, not just the final product. Cooking is an art form!”

“It’s about the final product to me. I’m fucking starving.” 

She was briefly distracted with the next set of instructions, telling him how to combine everything over how much heat. When she returned to the topic, her lighthearted voice was laced with a bit of desperation. “I mean it, there’s something magical about pouring your heart into something for someone else. Putting in your time. A little finesse here and there.”

“I know what it’s like to do something for someone else -- and there is absolutely no finesse involved. Or potatoes.” He gestured to the cut pieces before dumping everything into the pot over the stove.

“One of the most universal love languages is food, you know? People make meals and treats for their loved ones in every culture, in every time.” 

“They do a lot of other things, too.”

“You went to art school, you understand. This is an expression of yourself!”

“It’s a waste of time.”

“It’s the surest way to help someone!”

“That’s a load of bullshit.”

There was a pause. Then a nervous laugh. Then, “yeah.” As she dropped into more uncharacteristic silence, he stole a glance at her. 

Tears poured from her eyes. 

“Mahiru?” Fuck, he didn’t mean to make her cry.

“It is.” she hiccuped. “I thought… I thought it could save him. I made this big meal… I thought… But I was so stupid…”

She buried her face in her hands, offering weak apologies for the sudden outburst. He threw the lid over the pot before stepping back to her.

“Hey, hey. Come on. Don’t cry.” It was a command rather than a comfort. 

She didn’t listen. She just continued sobbing and blubbering on. “It was all stupid, worthless… I should have known…”

He crouched by the wheelchair. There didn’t even seem to be anything wrong, they’d just been talking about food. Why was she such a mess? He gave an impatient sigh. No reaction. What was Mikoto’s nickname for her again? “Listen, Mappi --”

She snapped her head up to look at him. 

Her teary eyes flicked all over his face, making him scowl. “What?”

“Oh.” Her shoulders relaxed, though her breath still hitched. “Sorry. You said… and well… I thought you’d gone away. I want you to stay.” She took his hand. “You.”

His eyes narrowed. “Why?”

“Because you understand me.” 

He did not. Like, at all. But he kept his mouth shut.

Thankfully, she was too talkative not to explain herself. “You love someone very much. That love turned out to be dangerous -- deadly. And you weren’t forgiven for it.” She pressed her lips together, suppressing the wave of emotion that almost overcame her. “And now we’re both getting what we deserve for it.”

“Like hell we are.” He felt the spark of rage again. “Neither of us deserve any of this shit, okay?”

“But --”

“No.” He glared at her. That familiar fire rose up inside him. “I’m tired of all your speeches and optimistic crap. You’re always falling over yourself for others. You’re pathetic. This place is hell, so you need to get your shit together and act like it. You might be willing to forgive the others, you might be able to treat them with that stupid sweetness all the time, but no one’s going to do the same for you. Stop letting them fuck with you.”

She gaped at him. He realized he’d leaned in very close. He prepared himself for more tears, or maybe some cowering away from him. Good. Mikoto didn’t need people like her who would convince him this verdict was deserved. He didn’t need any of these people. It was fine to push them all away.

Mahiru surprised him by leaning over. Her head rested on his chest. “It’s hard. It’s so hard, Mikoto. But… I’ll try.”

His attention was quickly ripped away by a hissing behind him. He yanked himself away from her to run to the curry, which was bubbling and burning and spilling out of the pan all over the stovetop. 

With an outpouring of profanities and clattering of dishes, he cleaned the sad remains of dinner off the burner. When he looked back at Mahiru, she had dabbed at her eyes and composed herself slightly. 

“It’s okay,” she said, “I’ll pick something easier you can make instead.”

“Nah, I’ll make more curry. Tell me how much of everything again.” 

“A-alright.” 

His agitation slowly faded as she began her gentle instructions again. Though he had just tore her apart for it, he was grateful for her patience with everyone around her. He probably could have left, then, seeing how calm the kitchen became. But he wasn’t risking ruining the meal a second time with an unexpected switch. 

And maybe Mahiru’s words still played through his mind.

The food was back on the stove in no time. He stood diligently next to it. They’d lapsed into a content silence. He still didn’t know what had set her off earlier, but wasn’t about to ask questions.

Mahiru had regained her usual bright smile. “Hey, when I get better, I’ll cook something for you, okay? I think you don’t appreciate cooking because no one’s made something special for you before. I want to do that.”

He sneered. “Heh, sure. And I’ll let you in on my preferred art form.” His words were layered with sarcasm. By now, she could guess that included destroying things by putting all of one’s might behind a powerful swing. 

But she giggled, completely unfazed. “Well, friendship is about give and take, right? I’d love to try.”

[caspersscareschool]

imagine im sending all the emojis under Character Specific - i love when u talk about the versions of the turtles that exist in ur mind, theyre canon to me (has never watched the show or any movie)

you are the realest one out there I'm so serious. under cut because that's a lot of questions

first of all: she/her leo, he/it raph, he/him donnie, any/all mikey but mostly he/him unless the situation calls for it

🥊 Does Raph have anger issues? If so, how does Raph deal with his anger?

i guess you could say that it does, but its issues have more to do with the guilt and fear associated with feeling or expressing anger on any level. he relies a lot on leo's constant emotional support

🧶 Does Raph knit?

no, but yoshi sews. raph's hobbies include raising butterflies and stag beetles, planting herbs and then forgetting to water them and crying when they die a week later, basketball, and lacrosse (but only with leo). he also has a hamster named daisy whom he would kill himself for without a moment's hesitation

🗣️ Is your Leo the leader? Has he always been?

...there's not really a "leader" since that's not how families work in real life, but she's generally the dubious voice of reason and the one who carries everybody's water bottles and medications and whathaveyou. she resents this position a little but doesn't have the self awareness to confront it

🔥 Is Leo accident prone? Especially in the kitchen?

no ❤️ she's not good at cooking because she is too afraid of failure to put any effort towards building skills that don't come naturally to her, so if it was her job to cook dinner she'd just dump a bunch of hot sauce and tuna and jelly and cheese and gravy in a pot and go heheheyhehheehhehehe Soup👍

🔬 Is Donnie only interested in Tech?

I'm not entirely clear on what this question means. he has other interests outside stem, but in my verse his focus is much more on computer science and mechanical engineering than any other field of science, so he kind of doesn't gaf about biology or anything organic or "squishy." if that was the question. other interests include grindcore music, transformers, my little pony (the toys), swimming, gambling, arguing on forums, sculpting, 3d animation, girls, and other things.

🤖 Does your Donnie have a robot child?

Grins really huge.

🎨 Is Mikey the artist of the family?

yes but he's best at cartoons and graffiti and abstract designs. he also makes his own music (mostly experimental hip-hop). donnie is a far better representational artist, but he doesn't consider his work "art" since he doesn't have mikey's imagination or eye for color and he pays mikey disgusting amounts of dubiously-sourced money to draw his pngtuber rantsona. mikey in turn spends this money on fancy cheese

😈 Is Mikey a little shit?

what more is there to say. Yes

🐀 Was Splinter a human or an animal before he was mutated?

human. but don't worry about it

🧑‍🍼 How does Splinter raise the boys?

Jesus. i really don't know how to get into this without copy/pasting 3 pages of backstory from my notes doc. he did his best that's all i can say

💏 Does/Did Splinter have a significant other?

he had a weird bisexual thing. which is different. i can't disclose more at this time

🎤 Is April a reporter?

april is a first-year undergrad majoring in journalism and minoring in environmental science. she interns at her college newspaper, and lately has been going to dangerous lengths to uncover her "big break" so they'll let her do more than edit the crossword

🧑‍🤝‍🧑 Is April considered a sibling?

she's like. okay. april is an integral part of their family, AND. she's also really not a surrogate/adopted/found sister in a literal sense. yoshi isn't her dad, and her relationship with the turtles is quite distinct from their relationship with each other as siblings, but it's still just as important, because she's family. like, found family outside of any traditional nuclear family roles. she's their best friend and they're her home away from home

🏒 Does Casey play hockey?

casey is such a minor character in my verse right now that it's actually kind of hysterical that they'd be on this list. they used to play, yeah.

🦸 Is Casey a vigilante?

they are a serial murderer.

[quietwingsinthesky]

recipe #1: pasta pie :)

i like this recipe because it's very easy and extremely tasty and pretty quick and you can do other things for most of the cooking time and also you can replace all the ingredients individually if you want and it'll still be extremely tasty

ingredients:

1 pack (500g) pasta (i recommend bow tie, shells, or fusilli)

2 tbs olive oil

4 tbs heavy cream/cooking cream/half-and-half (literally no idea what the difference is between all these but you get the point. cream, but not the sour kind.)

1 cup olive tapenade (olive spread/sauce). if you can't find any this recipe works really well with a good tomato-based pasta sauce. i never actually measure this, i just use enough to coat all the pasta

2 cloves garlic, minced (unlike other dishes, i don't recommend adding more than 4. it can get hella overwhelming in this for some reason)

cheese for topping (i usually use cheddar and parmesan, about 50g and 30g respectively, like 1.5-2 cups total. use more or less to taste)

cooking instructions:

preheat the over to 180°c (355°f). cook pasta. strain and wash, then dump back into the pot you cooked it in (or the baking dish, if you're willing to wipe the counter of spills and splashes). pour the other ingredients in and mix until the pasta is evenly coated. dump in a baking dish (life hack - if you use tapenade you don't need to grease the pan cause there's so much olive oil in this). cover with cheeses and bake for 20 minutes. i recommend letting it cool and stabilise a bit but don't expect the consistency of pie. i serve it with a spoon with no need for cutting.

holy shit that sounds delicious hi i lov e you

[noirapocalypto]

🥦 + 🍹for them three boys? ♡ I'm feeding them steamed broccoli and pina coladas

Thank you 🖤🤗

[ OC Questions ]

🥦 - Does your OC eat healthily or live off junk food?

Judah: His diet is very healthy and nutritious. Not exactly strict, he does indulge in sweets and not so healthy goods every now and then. But he has the money, so he very much prefers foods that are better for him. However, he is a stress eater and that's when the greasy junk food comes in. Sometimes he can be seen going to town on a burger or having a pizza delivered directly to his boardroom by his frantic assistant because his cravings are at an all time high.

Salem: Salem is in the middle. It's not so much that the foods he eats are unhealthy, he just skips meals or makes the quickest thing possible without even trying to make it a meal--especially during his self-destructive days. He'll dump a can of cold tomato sauce in a pot of pasta, give it a quick stir and voila, bone atrophy. Though, now that he's in a better place with his health, he tries to eat a bit more frequently and he's a bit more considerate with what exactly he eats.

Embry: Embry grew up with hearty, delicious foods though not exactly the most nutritious or healthy (that delicious Southern food 🤤). Though after he self-exiled himself, all that stopped. Similar to Salem, Embry's eating habits weren’t that great. Sometimes junk food was all he had to eat--though he'd try really hard to stock up on things that had a bit more nutrition in them. However, now in the present? Back to eating a bit more healthy--especially since he now lives with a roommate that can not only cook, but knows how to make a healthy meal.

🍹 - Does your OC drink? If so, what’s their drink of choice?

(Bear with me, I don't drink so I don't really know my drinks all that well dfdfkjghlsdj)

Judah: Surprisingly, Judah isn't much of a drinker. He'll social drink though, but never to get drunk or to let loose. I see him as a wine guy. But I can also see him drinking some whiskey or cognac too. If one pays closer attention, they'll notice he never really has more than one glass.

Salem: He does drink, though it's not as heavy as it was before. Similar to Judah, he'll mostly social drink now a days but can be convinced to have a bit more and get shit-faced with someone. I can see him being a vodka guy. Maybe rum.

Embry: My sweet boy sticks with the classics. Can't go wrong with a good beer. That's mostly what he sticks with--because I don't think he can handle hard liquor very well. Not that he can't drink--this boy can drink. He's just not the most pleasant drunk when he's drunk off liquor. So beer is his go-to--especially if he wants to keep things chill.

(All three would go nuts on some pina coladas though 🤭)

[motherhenna]

Some recipe suggestions/tips from someone who hates cooking, doing dishes, and dealing with produce:

Ingredients I get in bulk/always have on hand:

corn tortillas (get the giant bag of them and stick it in the freezer, they make great snacks on their own, and you can put mish mash in there and call it a taco!)

Pasta/Lentils/Rice

Tomato sauce and paste

Canned/frozen veggies (I like beans, corn, potatos, and peas especially but to each their own. Chickpeas are usually pretty good too.)

canned refried beans

Ground meat (I buy in 1lb increments and stick in freezer for easy protein)

frozen chopped onions

diced garlic in water

spices (Garlic and onion powder, cumin, curry powder, paprika, cayenne, oregano, basil, rosemary, bouillon, etc)

condiments (soy sauce, sweet n sour sauce, mustard/ketchup, honey, peanut butter, balsamic vinegar, olive oil, etc)

Recipes:

Samosa filling

Boil potatos or heat up canned ones until hot and soft. Microwave frozen peas, corn, carrots (or whatever veggies u like) until not frozen, or used canned. Put some fennel seeds into a pan for a little while until toasty, then add some oil/ghee and dump in your veggies/taters, plus some onions and garlic. Mush with a spatula and add curry powder/cumin/paprika or other savory spice mix to taste and cook until it smells/tastes good. Put in a tortilla/pita with some sweet n sour sauce if u want.

Lentil/Chickpea mishmash

Boil lentils until soft and the skins are kinda peeling, drain. Add to pan w canned chickpeas. Add some broth or water, just enough not to burn. Add savory spices, stir until chickpeas are softened. Optional: Cook garlic/diced onions in pan before adding lentils and chickpeas.

Soup

In a pot, cook some ground meat until browned, add some italian/savory spices. Dump in canned veggies, if using frozen then microwave first so it doesnt mess w cooking time too much. Season to taste. Add broth or water and buillon until desired soup consistency. Bring to a boil, then add short pasta noodles (like bowtie or fusili). Cook until pasta is almost done, then turn heat down and simmer and add spices until it tastes/smells good. You can freeze portions for later too.

Homemade pasta sauce

Storebought is expensive so: diced onions in a pan until soft. Add garlic, then tomato sauce (enough to coat amount of pasta u want). Add some tomato paste and italian seasonings (oregano, basil), then cook until it doesn't taste like raw tomato. Salt to taste. (Optional: cook ground meat until browned with the onions. if cooking from frozen wait to add the onions until meat is halfway cooked.) Boil ur pasta, then drain mostly (leave a little water) and pour pasta into the pan ur cooking the sauce in. stir to coat pasta.

Smashed cucumber salad

look up a recipe, there's a thousand out there, but usually i just cut up persian cucumbers, pour some vinegar/soy sauce/sesame seeds/chili flakes on there and boom

Peanut cucumber salad

Peel and slice american cucumbers, put in bowl with a lid. Add halved cherry tomatoes and peanuts. Add balsamic vinegar, olive oil, peanut butter/peanut sauce. put lid on, shake vigorously. If u dont have lid, then combine sauce ingredients separately and whisk to emulsify before adding to salad.

Also quick and great: Bean and cheese burritos, peanut butter sandwiches, eggs, caprese salad.

Thanks so much! There's definitely a couple in here I could fuck with, and yeah having more canned stuff sounds like a good idea. Not as good as fresh obviously but better than fast food right? Also, truly wish I could eat refried beans without shitting myself to death afterwards lmao that and chalula or tapatillo is why almost every mexican dish makes my intestines radioactive

[projectilecry]

crock pots are fucking magical. get one, you can seriously pick them up for cheap at like goodwill and places like that, and look up some slow cooker recipes. the crock pot does the work for you while you go do other shit and you come back and have wonderful delicious fucking food ready for you. (and the crock pot is a jewish invention!!)

you don’t need lids for all of your pots. it makes them more annoying and harder to store. get a flat lid or two that’s pretty big so that you can use it for like any pot or pan you have. if they come with lids don’t just throw them away, but you can pretty safely put them an an annoying to reach area for long term storage if you have the flat lids.

a tip on food safety/storage: the rule i learned for foods that need to be refrigerated (like dairy and meat and anything that contains a decent bit of either) to keep them safe to eat was essentially a rule of fours. these foods have a window of four hours (cumulatively!!) that they can be in conditions between 40°f and 140°f and still be safe to consume. after that amount of time is up, they’ve been in suitable temperatures to harbor and grow bacteria for long enough that you really shouldn’t eat them. this is a bit flexible for some foods if they are uncooked and you’re going thoroughly cook them before eating, but it’s generally not the best practice. whole cuts of red meat like beef or lamb is probably the best bet for this type of treatment (or cheese, but some cheese doesn’t need to be refrigerated in the first place) (it’s often the hard cheeses that can do without refrigeration, the soft and wet cheeses should always be refrigerated just like dairy milk) as they are generally less dangerous bacteria prone than poultry, but it’s not advisable in general. moral of the story, don’t freak out if you accidentally leave your expensive tenderloin roast you were looking forward to out on the counter for five hours, just check it out to make sure nothing seems to have changed with it and it doesn’t now smell or look obviously off and it should be completely fine once properly cooked. do not, however, do this with any ground meats, as they can and do develop bacteria all throughout (every exposed surface is another place for bacteria to easily grow) much quicker than whole cuts (plus the die/extrusion plates used with the grinder and the grinder itself can easily harbor and grow its own bacteria which is then transferred to your meat when it’s ground). this is why humans can generally eat steaks that are still pretty raw inside, but you don’t and shouldn’t eat a burger that’s been barely cooked at all (a bit of pink is fine, but if it still looks raw at all or is a darker red it should be cooked more). the phrase i remember this rule by is four between forty and one-forty - maximum of four hours spent between the temperatures of 40°f and 140°f.

spices are your friends and aren’t scary. you don’t need super good quality of everything at first, there’s no need for the $10+ tiny jars of artesian garlic powder, the cheap store brand stuff will do unless you decide to invest in higher quality ones later. don’t be afraid to use them and experiment with them. sure, don’t dump like tablespoons of things in your food without knowing what you’re doing first, but add a little at a time and taste frequently when it’s safe too and you’ll get more comfortable with them in no time. the worst thing that will happen is your food ends up underseasoned, which can be pretty easily fixed (unlike overseasoning).

there is no real way to stop pasta from boiling over and doing that weird starch foam thing it does other than just having a really fucking big and oversized pot to the point there’s so much pot and so little water it physically can’t climb the whole side. none of those tricks and hacks you see will consistently stop it, and while some like putting a wooden spoon across the top can help mitigate the damage a little bit, you’re going to have a little boil over sometimes. don’t freak out about it, just turn down the heat a little bit and stir it around to collapse the bubbles. it’s not going to ruin anything, it’s literally just water and starch, and it’s quicker and easier to clean the outside of your pot and wipe your cooktop down after you’re done than it is to try to outright prevent boil-overs.

good and sharp knives keep you safe, especially if you’re not as good with them in the first place. i cannot stress this enough. sharp knives actually do what you want them to do and don’t require you to put half your body weight into leverage to try to cut something. a dull knife requires you to exert all sorts of weird force on it to get it to do what you want and increases your risk of it slipping and accidentally cutting you exponentially. be careful, of course, like you should with anything sharp at all, but don’t be afraid to work with properly sharp knives. if you’re uncomfortable with your skills, try practicing often on things you don’t necessarily need to cut but can. if you’re eating an apple for a snack, why not go cut it up beforehand for some extra practice instead of eating off the core?

you can grow a lot of your own vegetables pretty easily, and even from store bought ones!! you can make a simple container garden out of a home depot bucket or anything like it with a few holes poked in the bottom to allow drainage. squash are pretty easy to grow from seed (though you may want to start them inside in a small pot and transfer them into your outside containers once they’re not seedlings anymore, especially if you have rabbits) and fairly hearty, and if you chuck a grocery store tomato in any old patch of dirt it’ll probably start growing little baby plants by itself.

Anyway some things to follow when youre a beginner cook:

Don’t constantly shift your food around in the pan if you want to form a crust on it, the less you move it the better.

Don’t be afraid to add water if youre frying up food and the food/sauce looks a bit dry.

Don’t fry up your garlic early on in the cooking process (unless youre making a quick garlic oil) as the garlic flavour can straight up disappear if overcooked for too long and/or the garlic can become bitter if burnt

Don’t overcook your vegetables. Look up recommended cook times for them. Your distaste for vegetables stems from them being overcooked and being poorly seasoned.

Don’t microwave stuff for more than 2 minutes at a time unless you know what you’re doing. Reheating stuff tends to fare better when you mix food between microwaving times since microwaves develop hotspots if you microwave it uninterrupted for too long.

Don’t try cooking everything at the hottest setting. It’s super tempting to have a high flame and do a meal quickly but actually follow directions and cook at medium or low heat.

[disasterkitchenrecipes]

Do you struggle with vegetables? Are you hoping that mtn dew is keeping you from the brink of scurvy? Do you just want to give up and eat a pizza instead?

Here's what you need to do: find 3 carrots, 2 celery stalks, one onion, one bell pepper, and 2-6 cloves garlic depending on how much you like garlic

Add more vegetables that you like, take out ones you don't like, whatever. The goal is to not be able to taste them at the end anyways

Chop/dice them as fine as you are willing to sit there and nitpick about it

Put butter in a pot and give em a lil sautee, or don't, I'm not your dad, sometimes you don't wanna stand over the pot doin shit

Cover them with water and simmer for like an hour

You can't overcook them, you want these puppies soft

After like an hour you're going to get out your emulsion/immersion blender or dump that shit in a food processor or blender. Doesn't matter what you use, just blend that shit up. At this point you've basically created baby food. It will taste like baby food. You could probably feed it to a baby if you really wanted to.

But we're grown ups. And we're here to wage fucking war. So we must press on.

We're making a tomato sauce! So we're going to add cans of tomato products based on the degree to which you do not want to taste all of our previous work. I personally added one 6oz can of tomato paste and two 8oz cans of tomato sauce. I might have added another can of tomato paste if I hadn't gravely overfilled my food processor. If your mixture is too thin use paste, if it's too thick use sauce.

Add salt and pepper to taste and blend/mix it all up and bam

tomato sauce

but this is magic tomato sauce

Tomatoes are bad for your acid reflux? This is less than half tomato

You need more variety and nutrition? There's like 6 different veggies in this puppy, we're out here fighting scurvy

You just want pizza but you haven't eaten a vegetable in 3 weeks? This sauce IS vegetables

I like to generously spread it on a tortilla with some cheese and pepperoni and bake it into a pizza for a meal that is majority vegetables, but you can use it for whatever you normally use pizza sauce for.

You could also turn it into a chunky marinara or meat sauce by adding a diced quarter onion and a can of diced tomatoes or a pound of cooked ground beef or turkey and simmering it all together for another 30 minutes

Go forth and eat your pizzas and pastas with no guilt

[aspiring-writer-hidden-voice]

First Kiss: Katsuki Bakugo

A/N: Hey, everyone! SA here with a mini head canon (sorry, I’m still getting used to all of these new terms so hopefully I’m using it right!) that I think you’ll like! This little series is called “First Kiss” that will feature different pairings with the reader (fem!)! As always, please let me know what you think!

F!Reader x Katsuki; pronouns are “She/Her”; Quirk: whatever you want, I honestly couldn’t come up with anything good with this one. Age: All characters are 18+

Warnings: Fluff and language.

“What the hell is your problem?!”

With a sigh, you turned the stove off with a twist of the nob and placed the lid upon the pot you’d been working over as thunderous footfalls approached. Sometimes your big mouth got you into trouble, other times it was your temper that could rival that of the firecracker blonde’s, but today was different; this was all part of your plan as he stomped until coming to a stop beside you with slanted ruby eyes blazing with twin infernos. You kept your outwards face stoic and indifferent in the face of his fury. “Gonna have to be a bit more specific. I’ve been super busy today—”

His open palm met the counter top with a resounding smack, a twitch appearing in both his brow and lip when he heard your monotone voice that was borderline bored. “I’m talking about the ignored texts and shit! Hell, I even tried to call you and it went to voicemail!” The twitches grew as you sighed, nearly his whole face was contorting erratically.

“Like I said, I’ve been busy with things.” It was almost too much for you to take when an audible snap sounded from him as you slipped past him to grab something from the pantry in order to hide the smirk that threatened to lift your lips. “Unlike some people, I’m not as attached to my phone.” A twist of your wrist showcased the lit up screen of a smart watch that showcased all the missed notifications from him that you had ignored, forcing your eyes wide while depositing the spice you’d retrieved on the counter. “Oh, wow, would you look at that! You’d think I was a pro hero with how much you’ve been begging for my attention like a helpless fanboy groveling at my feet!” This time you did let the smirk show when raising a hand to tousle his wild blonde hair before sliding down to pat his cheek. “So sorry, but you’re going to have to be a good boy for a little longer until I’m done with cooking.”

Realization filled his gaze as your tongue appeared from between your lips while you turned back to the stove. “Damnit, you think this is some fucking game?!”

“So a friend stopped by for a visit today.”

“Don’t ignore me!”

The ladle you’d been using to stir the pot paused in its rotary path so that you could use a spare spoon to sample the broth then offered it to him, earning a sputter but he begrudgingly took a small sip once you cocked an eyebrow. “She dumped her boyfriend because he was a bad kisser.”

His expression twisted into one of boredom as he wordlessly snatched the spice you’d grabbed and replaced it with something else. “Pathetic when a man can’t satisfy his partner. That’s one of his fucking number one jobs is to keep them sated.” Another spice was retrieved then added to the mix.

This conversation was going right in the direction where you wanted it to as if he were following an invisible trail you had laid out. You hummed while taking another sip of the soup, relishing at the full bodied flavors that danced across your tongue. He was always better at cooking than you were but you’d wanted to try something new and decided that a hearty beef stew was just what the two of you needed especially if your plan came to fruition. “So you’d agree that its important for a couple to show the other affection?”

“Every pair is different, dumbass, some people don’t need that sort of shit.”

“Which you aren’t because you’re such a cuddle monster that it’s hard for me to get anything done.” Your tease earned a grunt as he appeared behind you, muscular arms wrapping around your waist where they gave you a slight squeeze. “I’m not complaining, of course, I love when you let that guard of yours down just for little ole me when its just the two of us.”

A rough growl sounded as his head fell to rest on your shoulder. “Shut up, dumbass.”

“Aww, is someone blushing? How cute.”

“How many times do I have to fucking say that I’m not cute?!”

Your tongue appeared again as you slipped free of his hold thanks to his outburst that caused both hands to rise towards the ceiling. “So in your definition of a ‘man’, he would have to provide what exactly to the relationship between himself and another?”

“What the hell is this, some game show?” He scoffed, planting himself within one of the nearby barstools on the opposite end of the bar while crossing his arms. You shot him a glare that said “just do it” which earned another huff. The gears were definitely turning in his head as if trying to figure out what your point to this conversation was but it was clear that he wouldn’t find the answer anytime soon as he deftly caught a granola bar that you tossed him. “Like I said, every pair is different because of the people. Each person needs something that the other brings and vice-versa.”

A sense of victory filled you at his words. “Which is why people break up if something isn’t working or fulfilling a need?”

He was across the kitchen so fast you barely had time to register that he’d moved in the first place, hands gripping your shoulders loosely but firmly as he spun you around to face him, red eyes so wide they might just pop out of his skull. “Fucking— I knew something was wrong! Speak up already and stop playing these damn games! Just tell me what I did wrong!”

Brief panic filled you at the distress in his voice and expression. Maybe you’d taken this too far? “Katsuki—”

��Is this because I left my wet towel on the floor? I told you it fell when I wasn’t looking!”

“Hold on—”

“Or that time that I spilled my Bloody Mary on the couch and blamed it on that damn Pikachu?!”

Your brow twitched, temper flaring. “You spilled what on my couch?!”

The blonde cringed at your shout but he didn’t release his hold on you even when you attempted to break it so that you could go investigate. “D-doesn’t matter! I called a professional cleaner and when they said they couldn’t do anything I replaced the damn thing—”

“Katsuki Bakugo, I can’t believe you! I thought I was going crazy when I couldn’t find the remote that was in the pocket inside the armrest! Do you have any idea how long I’ve been looking for that damn thing?!”

“Shit, I forgot to check before the junk haulers took it away.” His head shook as you fought against his hold. “Can buy you a new one but I want to know what the fucking hell is going on with you today!”

Temper now reaching its peak due to his increasingly tight hold and the new information, you growled lowly under your breath. Plan be damned! “You wanna know so fucking bad? Fine! I want to know why you haven’t mustered up the balls to kiss me yet!”

For a moment silence fell as the two of you were surrounded by the words you’d practically screamed into his face.

That was definitely not how you wanted this all to go but you’d been too upset by the revealing of the incident with your furniture piece to care. Emotion threatened to form a ball in your throat but you swallowed it down with difficultly as tears burned the backs of your eyes. “We’ve been dating almost a whole fucking year, Katsuki. Cuddling and holding hands are nice but I need—”

“Why didn’t you fucking say anything sooner, you dumbass?”

That definitely wasn’t the response that you were expecting and neither was the pivot that caused your back to meet the nearby pantry door that caused your breath to catch. The way he was looking at you now as he collected your wrists to pin them beside your head and body pressing fully against your own made the blood in your veins race but it was the darkening gaze above you that truly rendered you speechless. It was as if he were a wild predator staring down at you with that superior near animalistic hunger shining brightly like an ember within his eyes as he loomed over you. Thrill caused the fine hairs across your body to rise as his head slowly dipped until your noses were brushing, the breath you were in the middle of taking completely abandoning you as his lips seemed to tease yours by impulsing them to part with a feather-like touch before they were completely ensnared.

Roaring flames came to life within your core as his chest rumbled with a growl against your own as his lips devoured yours. There was no hesitation within the searing kiss that may as well separated your soul from your body, his body alternating against firm and sensual presses that made your legs grow weak when one of his bent knees brushed against your clothed core, eliciting a soft whine from you. It was just the opportunity he’d been waiting for and his tongue slipped between the part of your lips to ravage your sweet mouth that had only imagined what this moment would entail. Nothing you’d ever dreamt of could compare as your eyes drifted closed with a flutter when his larger tongue discovered yours hiding in the farthest corner then proceeded to dominate it in a near dance-like way that left your back arching and breathless when he finally released you.

Pride shone brightly within his gaze and radiated off his smirk as your chest worked to replenish the air you’d lost with hooded eyes. “Tch. Judging from that look on your face I literally just stole your soul like some sort of—”

Rising to the balls of your feet you threw every bit of your weight against him, knocking off his center of balance, and silenced him with a press of your lips that rendered his surprised grunt to an exclamation that climbed the musical scales as your gaze bore into his own. No way were you going to give him bragging rights without a fight!

It was like watching a sunrise as red slowly bloomed within his cheeks before slowly spreading to the rest of his visible face as your hands rose to take firm hold of his head to prevent him from moving away. The noises that rose up his throat were prevented from being voiced by your lips that were pressed firmly against his. The hold he’d had on your wrists was thrown off by your sudden action and it gave you the perfect opportunity for your fingers to rise and entangle themselves within his blonde tresses, earning shivers and suppressed moans from the man before you as his eyes threatened to roll when your fingernails lightly scraped against his sensitive scalp. Your hips lightly ground against his own, earning the drop of his jaw and your own groan at the delicious friction that rose, humming in appreciation when his hands that had been in the air grasping at nothing fell to instead knead the flesh of your hips before they drifted around to the mounds that were your backside when you bravely gave his bottom lip a nibble.

The kiss was broken with a unified deep throated growl from the two of you as the burning need for air forced your lips to part but that didn’t mean you weren’t showcasing a victorious smirk when finding him near clinging to you and the counter for support as his glazed eyes met yours. Coiling heat that had settled within your core rose to your chest when you took in the blissful expression he wore while cupping his face and brushing the pads of your thumbs against his flaming cheeks. “Aww, look how cute you are. I almost wanna take a picture just so that I can look at it anytime I want.”

“F-fucking hell, teddy bear, that was—” His head that had bent as if to reclaim your lips rose back upwards, a furious expression crossing his features. “Was that a fucking challenge?! And did you just fucking call me cute?!” The growl that rose up his throat caused your heart to race as he stared down at you. “I’ll teach you a lesson you’ll never forget, you damn dumbass!”

Something told you that the stew may have to be put in the crockpot to be kept warm until later.