#apple peeling machine

[wmmachinery]

Apple Peeling Machine 8 working station same time like human hands peeling

[2018-01-20]

i want a kiss from gojo... so: maybe u could do buying matching plushies with yuuji? or getting matching plushies from a claw machine w megumi?

pairing. megumi fushiguro × gn!reader

content. fluff, read slowly for maximum enjoyment!

megumi fushiguro isn’t commonly considered as someone who is weak, but for you he feels like he is.

“this is so cute!” you gasp, spotting a plushie that is more than three times the size of your head inside a crane machine. it’s a cat stuffed animal in your favorite color, the cuteness of it making you press your hands up against the glass with eyes sparkling in complete awe. megumi can practically hear the gears turning and creaking in your head. “oh my god, should i try to get it?”

“there is no way that that’s possible,” nobara scoffs in disbelief, but you know that she’s only saying that to pull you away before you end up falling too deep and spending all of your money. “you know that this place is notorious for its super weak claws, right?”

“but it’s also popular for its cute prizes, y’know,” you whine in response, tugging on her sleeve to get her to come closer. “look at how cute it is! right, megumi?”

when the both of you turn towards said boy—you with hopeful eyes that reminds megumi of a puppy, and nobara with a demonic glare to get him to stop your nonsense—he freezes, eyes unable to peel away from your bright face. itadori snickers from beside him, already knowing his answer.

and for megumi, there is no other choice but to give in.

“...it is cute,” he mumbles, looking away to avoid nobara’s expression of disbelief.

“see, nobara?” you grin evilly. “do you really have no faith in me? i can easily win against one of these bad guys.”

“you can go right ahead, but we all know you have the worst luck out of all four of us,” nobara sighs out, hiding a smile after that little dig. you play along, letting out a dramatic gasp. “your chances of winning is worse than itadori’s.”

the both of you sputter out an offended, “hey!” you huff, all riled up. but you know that nobara is at least partly right.

“fine,” you eventually hmph at her, and she puts her hands on her hips with a grin. “now i’ll get that plush just to spite you.”

“oh yeah?” she retorts. “with your horrible crane machine skills?”

“nope,” you stick a tongue out at her, and when you sidestep her to reach the boy behind her, megumi feels dread overcome his body. “megumi—”

“that’s cheating!” it’s nobara’s turn to gasp, turning towards you with a distraught face. “you know fushiguro won’t say no to you!”

“gu-umi,” you continue on, ignoring nobara’s accusations in hopes that your begging towards the boy in front of you will get him to say yes to you. (spoiler: it does.) “can you help me get that cat plushie? pleasee?”

you clasp your hands together in a begging motion, unashamed of losing your dignity in order to achieve what you know will earn you victory. you blink repeatedly, staring at megumi through your eyelashes with a pout adorning your lips.

megumi’s adam apple bobs—your attentive gaze makes his mind go blank and his cheeks warm, and while nobara would call your current expression atrocious, he can’t help but think that it’s a bit cute. although megumi fushiguro is no cat lover and would very much prefer the matching dog plushie next to the kitty one that you adore, he takes one more look at your face and sighs.

“...okay.” is all he simply says. but seeing your face light up and smile widen is more than enough for him.

[kiyoramen]

Care for you

pairing: hq! sakusa x reader

You raise your arm to cover your eyes from the harsh glare of the light above. You haphazardly shake your feet in hopes that your heels will come off easily, however, the one on your left foot is stubborn and won’t come off. Just like how you brushed off the harsh light and covered your face with a pillow instead, you let your left shoe stay on as you doze off to sleep, not having the energy to care.

You have no idea what time is it when you woke up, but you can hear shuffling and your boyfriend’s familiar footfalls coming from different directions. You remove the pillow from your face and instead of the harsh light you are greeted by the soft glow of your bedside lamp. You blink once, twice, thrice, and slowly let your surroundings sink in.

The AC is running and its cold and yet your hair is damp and your skin is covered in sweat, both your feet are bare, and you can no longer feel the weight of your makeup. You sit up with your elbows supporting you, you observe Sakusa as he moves around your shared bedroom.

After a minute or so of watching him fix his things and yours, you speak up, “I’m sorry for leaving a mess, as compensation I’ll do the laundry instead.”

Sakusa shakes his head, “Nonsense, I’ll do the laundry and you rest.”

“I feel bad,” you admit, “I leave home and leave a mess, I come home and make more mess.”

“I understand,” he stands infront of you and signal for you to raise your arms, “you’re tired and you don’t have much time anyway.”

You raise your arms and he removes your top for you and hands you a towel.

“My time management is so bad, Kiyo.”

“My time management is good enough for the both of us,” he quips, “Now take a bath, you fell asleep with the AC turned off.”

“Okay,” You smile and give him a peck on the lips before entering your bathroom, “thank you.”

After freshening up in the bath Sakusa prepared, you dress up in the pajamas he picked out and laid out for you, and make your way to the kitchen to look for food. You hear the washing machine whirring and the sizzling of food being cooked. Sakusa gestures for you to sit down on the island counter.

“I love you, Kiyoomi.” you say with a content smile on your face, “What do you say about being my house husband?”

“I’ll think about it.” He replies and hands you a plate of peeled apples. I love you too

[itsnotmeep]

Apple Gummies

Inupi x Reader (Fluff)

A subtle friendship that starts with an apple and a boy who slowly falls in love. Inspired by “Ditto” by NewJeans

Inupi didn't know when he started liking (y/n) it had come so gentle that by the time he looked back to see the start it was all blended together with the memories that made her special to him. Liking her came as second nature, something that came as easy as breathing. If he had liked her since forever then he assumed it was the first time they had met that he had fallen in love. 

After Koko had saved him from the fire he remembered laying in the hospital bed staring at the ceiling not sure if he should celebrate being able to live or cry over his sister who couldn’t. If he could remember correctly, (y/n) had gone to the hospital after breaking her left ankle. Which if he was honest is not surprising now knowing her for so long. He had seen her trip over thin air before, let alone the times she was a victim of thrown balls. 

With the hospital quite packed the nurses placed her as his roommate in hopes that a company his age would help him adjust and help him feel a sense of normalcy. As he lay lost in thought the nurses knocked on his door and as he answered the (h/c) girl was rolled in.

“This is (y/n) she is gonna be your new roomie okay” The nurse said as she set the girls up and helped her settle on the bed. Once (y/n) was set. The nurse then did their routine check up on him.

Once the nurses were done, 10 awkward minutes of silences occurred. He could see her fidgeting until she broke the silence “ummm you want some apples?” Not knowing what to do, he agreed. The girl smiled and proceeded to throw her feet off the bed and hopped on her good foot. “You really don't need to do that, '' Inupi hurriedly said, feeling bad. 

“No, it's really okay just give me a second '' (y/n) said as she wheeled herself to the side of his bed with an apple and knife. She slowly peeled the apple and skillfully cut it into slices before helping him up and handing one up to him.

As he bit into the apple he saw her wheel back to her area ruffling through a bag and pulling out cards “Uno?”

Before long her presence was something he was used to, there wasn’t much to do in the hospital so the girl's efforts to fill up the boredom was amusing to him. Talking to let him escape the accident that plagued him at the time. After 2 weeks (y/n) was discharged and he thought he would never see her again.

Imagine his surprise when 2 months later while entering his homeroom with Koko for the new school year, he would see the girl sitting near the back of the classroom talking to two fellow classmates. He wanted to greet her but was interrupted by the door closing.

“Can everybody take a seat please, I am…” the teacher went on and on. Next thing Inupi knew he had zone out and lunch had begun. He looked toward the back of the room hoping to see (y/n) but was met with disappointment when he saw the empty desk. “Hey, you mind getting me a drink at the vending machine?” Koko's question snapped him back. “Yeah sure”

As he walk down quietly. The hallways were filled with chatter and laughter as students caught up and complained. Once he got the machine he saw her standing there with a bunch of drinks in her hand. “ Hey Inupi, it's me (y/n), I was shocked when I saw you. Who would have thought we would meet again? Don’t mind the drinks. I lost a bet and now I have to carry all of these drinks back. How are you by the way?”

He offered her a kind smile before answering her question “I’m doing better, how's your leg”. As she answered, he picked up some of the drinks. “You don't have to, I got it.” the girl quickly said. “It's fine we are going to the same place anyways.” It was a comfortable quiet as they walked back into the class. “Who's the girl?” Koko whispered to Inupi as he sat down. “She was placed in the same hospital room as me.” 

The first day of class ended, Koko already made his way towards the door and had some deal to complete, leaving Inupi in the classroom by himself. He slowly opened the door to see the (y/n) again. “This is where you were, I thought you left until your long haired friend told me you might’ve been here still. For helping me with the drink I wanted to give you something.” She pushed a bag of apple flavor gummies into his hand. “ I know it's not a lot but I just wanted to say thank you,” the girl blurted before running off again.

Soon after the girl slowly inserted herself into his life naturally and he couldn’t help waiting for the time he got to spend with her. He couldn’t help himself from stealing glances at her surrounded by her friends. It was like her laughter was a sound wave in which his radio was always tuned to. 

One night while walking around the city he spotted the girl walking home in the dark by herself, holding a bag of what he assumed was snacks. Scared for her safety he started following her yet too shy to say anything so the poor guy was just trailing her. After 5 minutes, he would get the scare of his life when he heard “ Inupi i know you’re there why are you following me?” the girl turned to face him.

After explaining himself the girl giggled and he couldn't help the blush that spread his cheeks not sure if he was embarrassed or happy that he had caused her to laugh. “Silly, you could have just told me.” When they reached her house she said bye to him and added “You are like my knight in shining armor, thank you”.

He didn’t want to admit it but his cheek was dusted with pink the rest of the night and they would hurt from the smile that tugged on his lips the rest of the way home.

The gods were in his favor the next day because when the bell rang the sky decided it was time to rain all the clouds dry. Luckily he bought his umbrella but (y/n) hadn’t, not wanting the girl to get sick he immediately offered to walk her home. She agreed and they started their journey leaving behind a Koko who had to find his own way home.

“ You know you should stand closer,  the rain is hitting you,” the girl pleaded. The boy felt the water wetting his left side but ignored it. “Its fine”

Once they reached the house (y/n) pushed him inside. “The rain is getting worse, just chill here so the rain can let up. My parents are on a trip so you don't need to worry and I'll get you some clothes to change into”. Inupi couldn’t answer before he was in the bathroom “Just throw your clothes outside and I’ll place dry ones in front of the door”

He changed and went towards the living room “Are you hungry?” the girl began shifting through the fridge. Before long food was made and both of them sat and ate he noticed how the girl ate a smaller portion. “ You snack a lot don't you” the boy remarked. “Yeah, how did you know?” she questioned. “Because you’re a foodie you wouldn’t pass up any food unless you're filled, so i guess you ate a bunch of snacks beforehand” He chose not reveal how he caught her eating all the ingredients beforehand as she was cooking.

After they played board games and did their homework, the girl fell asleep. Inupi placed a blanket on her and couldn’t help but admire her sleeping. He cleaned up the dishes and board games. He then organized her school work and placed them in her backpack so she wouldn't forget before making his departure.

Walking her home became a daily routine, he started to figure out what her favorite food was and what she disliked. The songs she skips and the ones she plays on repeat. What jokes made her laugh and the character she liked. Even the way her eyes closed shut when laughing and the strand of hair that always stood up no matter how hard she tried. 

He loved her but was scared. If he told her and she didn't like him that could mean losing her forever. Yet if he didn't tell her he would harbor these secrets forever surrendering the chance that she might like him back. 

“Honestly the way your moping makes me pay you to just ask her” Koko sighed fully knowing that the girl had to like his blonde friend back. Inupi rolled his eyes before saying “I gotta go drop her off at the train station”. He wanted to ask you after your three day trip to the countryside hoping the time would help him build up the courage. He believed that it was better to tell them, than to live in the complex maze of not knowing, even when he knew his heart couldn’t take the damage if you had said no.

With the train station in view Inupi gently handed her bag which he insisted on carrying all the way. Then he rummaged through his own pockets to pull out (y/n)'s  favorite apple gummies.  “Here you go for the trip, and don’t snack too much because you need to eat a full meal alright”. 

“Fine but no promises” The girl spotted her family and gave them her luggage telling them to go ahead before walking back towards the boy. “You know i know you like me, Koko told me” (y/n) spoke. Inupi's heart dropped to his stomach. “ I like you too by the way”. She lightly kissed his cheek, grinned and then ran into the train station yelling “ I’ll see you soon”

Even with the amount of time she had made him blush. She had once again decorated his cheeks with pink. He didn’t know if he wanted to kill Koko or give him everything he owned. All he knew was the girl he loved, liked him back and that was enough to make him smile for a lifetime.

Later Inupi would confront Koko and the long haired friend would only say “You didn't have the balls, consider it a favor”

[moon-alight]

how do you think andteam would react to you being injured? thanks

Of course, Sorry for the wait 😘 (As you can see, I also changed the layout of everything. Hope nobody minds)

General Masterlist

&Team Masterlist

&Team Reaction to their s/o being injured

Warnings: Fluff, bit of angst, mild description of injuries

Word Count: 2042

-K

You were busy inside the kitchen of the dorms, ready to cook something nice for your sweet and hardworking boyfriend. He was out late with the members to prepare for a comeback which you didn't mind, you were used to his strange work hours by now.

With some music in the background, your hips swaying on 'Sorry' from Justin Bieber and an apple in your hand which you were peeling because you would make a small fruit salad as dessert, you felt happy. That is, until a sharp pain in your palm distracted you.

Looking down at the blood your heart dropped, not because you were hurt from accidentally cutting yourself, but because you knew your boyfriend. You went to hold the cut underneath the streaming water from the tap when the door opened and loud noise filled the room.

You heard Harua and Maki laugh about something Taki had said as they were all taking off their shoes before entering. Two strong arms wrapped around you from behind and warmth enveloped you. Kei obviously felt your body tensing against his own and frowned.

"Baby? What have you done?" He asked when he saw the cut in your palm.

"It's nothing, I was just being dumb." He took your hand in his and gently rubbed the back of your hand with his thumb.

"What am I gonna do with you?" He asked more to himself than to you.

"Kiss it better?" You asked to which he laughed and went to kiss your palm better.

-Fuma

Stressing over stupid little things was not unusual for you. Of course you'd be overreacting over something that had absolutely no impact on your life but you also did not want your new coworkers to think you were an idiot.

You had just had your first day at your new job and because you wanted to make a good impression, you might've accidentally knocked against the printer. The machine was okay but you ended up with a sprained ankle due to the fall.

Nobody laughed and instead two very sweet women helped you but you were embarrassed. Of course, nothing beats the fact that you had to somehow explain to your very caring boyfriend what had happened.

When you limped inside the dorms, he immediately could tell something was awfully wrong even though you tried to hide it.

"Honey?" Fuma asked and watched you make your way towards the couch slowly. "How was your first day at your new workplace?"

"Great! Amazing! Couldn't be better." You finally sat down and let out a sigh of relief because your ankle could finally rest.

"Hm." Fuma hummed and sat down next to you. "And now I want the truth, please."

"Alright, I fell, nothing too bad, just a sprained ankle."

"Well, you won't be walking the next few days." You stared at him with a deadpan look in your eyes. "What? You need to give it time to heal."

-Nicholas

He watched you walk towards the garbage can underneath the bookshelf inside his room and he also watched as you bend down to throw away some paper, came up and accidentally knocked your head straight against the wood of said shelf.

His first intention was to laugh it off because truth be told, it did look funny but when he saw the way you were obviously trying to hide how much it hurt you yet the tears bottled up in your eye, he knew it was not funny for you.

"Princess/Prince?" He asked carefully, getting up from his bed and walking over to you. "Are you okay?" You tried to hard not to cry because it would be very pathetic of you, but when the first tear fell, he coed at you and wrapped you up in a hug.

"It's okay." He whispered against your hair as he rubbed your head gently where you had hit the shelf. "My little clumsy duck--"

"Not funny." You muttered against him.

"I'm not laughing, princess/prince." Nicholas stated but couldn't help and smile. "I just need you to be a bit more careful next time." He cupped your cheeks in his hands and kissed your forehead. "Or your pretty little head might fall off one day."

-EJ

Sure when you were asked to help move the couch in the dorm, you agreed in a heart beat, mostly because it was your boyfriend who asked. The boys had a clear vision and it made a lot of sense in your head too.

The couch was too far in the front, they wanted to move it against the wall and had to move both the couch and the closet to do so. You had one hand on the back rest of the couch while the other rested on the armrest. When Yuma gave you the sign, you pushed forward with EJ and Jo.

When the couch hit the wall brutally because of the force you all had, one of your precious fingers got stuck between the couch and the wall which made you help before pulling it back. You looked down at the bleeding nail but were relieved it wasn't much worse.

"Oh my God!" Jo shrieked when he saw the slightest bit of blood. "I am so sorry!"

"You didn't do anything." You told him to which EJ chuckled and walked over to you. He took your hand in his to check the wound.

"Does it hurt a lot?"

"No, it did when it got stuck but it's fine now." You assured him, which was the truth.

"I will still get it desinfected just in case." EJ muttered and dragged you towards the kitchen even though you said you didn't need it.

-Yuma

You were not a big fan of PE, especially when it was running but you decided to keep your own pace and it should be fine. Well, it was fine for about fourty minutes until you had to do sprints. Your friends were all just as annoyed as you were but you had to do it.

So, when you began to run and your foot got stuck underneath a treebranch, since you were outside for your tests, you fell to the ground. For a second you were disoriented, not sure what had happened but then you saw the branch behind you and it made sense.

"Are you okay?" Yuma asked, appearing by your side immediately. He took your hands gently and pulled you up from the ground. Your knees were hurt the most as they had caught your fall and unfortunately, you scraped them open.

"Yuma, how about you bring them to the school nurse?" Your teacher asked your boyfriend who immediately agreed and went to grab your bag. You walked with him inside the school as he held your hand tightly.

"I'm proud you didn't laugh." You commented to which he gasped dramatically.

"Why would I laugh? You are hurt!"

"Remember that time I knocked my head against the glass door because I thought it was open and you ended up wheezing?"

"That was different!" Yuma tried to defend himself. "You were laughing too! I would've never laughed if you were actually hurt. I love you too much for that."

"Can you repeat that, please?"

"Repeat what?"

-Jo

He really did not mean to, but it kind of just happened and he completely knocked himself up because of it. See, you two were just playing basketball -- for as much as you were able to play -- because Jo was obviously much better.

He had scored once more and picked up the ball. He told you it was your turn and thought you were paying attention so he threw it into your direction and accidentally hit your face. Now, it did not hurt too bad but the moment he saw your bleeding nose, he was panicking.

"I'm so, so sorry! I didn't mean to hurt you! I would never do something like that on purpose--"

"Jo!"

"I swear! I am so so sorry! Please, yell if you want but don't leave me--"

"Jo! Listen to me, you dork!" He shut up once you actually raised your voice. You had to, he wouldn't listen otherwise so, you chuckled at him and continued in a softer tone. "My nose was already bleeding before you hit me with that ball."

"What? But, does it hurt? Why would your nose start bleeding?"

"It does that sometimes when the temperature drastically changes. I mean, it has been warm the previous months and today it is surprisingly chilly. Stop worrying."

"I'm still very sorry." Jo said and wrapped his arms around you tightly.

"You have nothing to be sorry for, believe me."

-Harua (I wonder what would happen if I forgot him XD)

The upcoming exams had you completely stressed. You wanted nothing more than to run away from all the trouble and spare yourself even more overthinking but you couldn't.

When you were stressed, you did a bunch of stupid and out-of-the ordinary stuff like accidentally snapping at your boyfriend who only tried to help.

You couldn't help but feel guilty so you arrived at the dorms to make it up to him. It was already dark and it had been raining outside. You quickly took your shoes off and walked down the hallway to the living room where you heard the tv. He sat on the couch alone.

You walked over, your foot accidentally slipped in a small puddle that someone had created and you fell to the ground. Harua was startled and looked over to see you. He frowned to himself in confusion.

"I wanted to apologize for snapping but I guess Karma was quick to punish my actions." You said with a groan. Harua stood up and walked over to you, he squatted down next to you.

"That puddle was Nicholas when he dropped his wet coat earlier." He told you and stroked a hand through your hair. "Apology accepted." He helped you stand up. "Are you hurt?"

"No, I'm fine." You assured him to which he nodded and made you sit next to him on the couch.

-Taki

He was teaching you some dance moves from their new coreography because you wanted him to. Taki had surprisingly much patience when it came to you and even supported you even though you knew you sucked. He was just glad he got to share this with you.

You had a small break and opened your waterbottle to take a sip as you explained something that had happened at school that day. Your free hand was moving along to punctuate your points when you accidentally hit it against the wall.

At first glance it didn't look that painful and Taki had chuckled at your clumsiness but when he saw your scraped knuckles and the blood, he stopped and turned serious immediately.

"Does it hurt?"

"Not much, just a slight sting."

"You have to be more careful." He told you and took your hand in his. "I cannot wrap you in bubblewrap but if I have to I might wrap everything around you."

"Hey! I'm not that bad!"

"Honestly, y/n, I think you might be worse."

-Maki

Maki was always supportive, even when you were going absolutely crazy. He loved dogs more than anything and luckily for him, so did you but when you got close to this beautiful little homeless chihuahua to pet him, he knew it was a bad idea.

You should've known that chihuahuas weren't going to warn you before biting but you were still surprised when he bit your finger. You yelped and stepped away from the dog to which you heard Maki sigh.

"Do not comment on it!" You warned him to which he chuckled. "I know I was stupid, I do not need a lecture."

"You know what? I would tell you 'I told you so' if I didn't love you so much." Maki said to which you smiled. "Regardless of that. . . I told you so." Your smile disappeared to which he laughed.

"Yeah, well, laugh about my misery! I might be in pain!" You complained to which he cooed at you.

"I'm sorry, I'll get you ice cream to cheer you up."

"Sounds good to me!"

[strawberrybasilsorbet]

Jilytober Day 6

Had some time this evening to work on another Jilytober fic! (Edit: Oops, forgot to tag! @jilytoberfest ). Hoping to go back and catch up on the days I missed, but in the meantime, here's my try at today's prompt:

October 6th: Making food together / food disasters

Clearly, something had gone wrong.

James furrowed his brow, staring at the chunks of apple and squash that he'd painstakingly peeled and cubed — by hand! — before dumping them into the tall Muggle goblet. Maybe he'd made a mistake with the plugs?

Around him, the kitchen hummed with the soft crooning of a record player and the clinking of pots and pans. The aroma of thyme, sage and cinnamon filled the air, suffusing the space with the unmistakable scents of Christmas Eve.

Lily and her mother were chatting about a neighbor's upcoming baby shower, occasionally pausing to check a recipe book or put a dish into the oven. James glanced over to make sure that neither of them had yet noticed his mistake, then turned back to the eclectic goblet on the countertop.

He double-checked the plug. It sat in the wall, exactly as Lily had shown him. He looked once more at the switch on the back of the device. It was pointed toward the word "On."

Wasn't something supposed to be happening?

James yanked the plug out of the wall and flicked the "On/Off" switch again. No change. He removed the tight-fitting lid from atop the goblet and peered inside, trying to see if anything stirred. He could see the circle of blades at the bottom, but they didn't move.

There was nothing else for it.

"Um, excuse me. Mrs. Evans?"

"What is it, dear?" asked Lily's mother, looking up from where she had begun to measure out a cup of sugar.

James thought back to his fifth year Muggle Studies vocabulary exams, trying to remember the proper phrasing. "I think that your power might be out," he said.

Lily looked up, and she and her mother exchanged a glance, confused. James cringed internally at the awkward moment. He must have gotten it wrong. "I mean, I think there's something wrong with your eckletricity," he corrected hastily. He gestured at the goblet. "It isn't working."

Mrs. Evans still looked wrongfooted, but Lily smirked. "Having trouble with the blender?"

Even as embarrassed as he felt, James couldn't help but return her smile. "Yeah, seems like it," he replied.

"Did you plug it in?"

"Yes."

"Did you turn it on?"

"Yes!"

"Did you hit the button?"

James paused. "The button?"

"In the front." Lily giggled as James turned back to the device, examining the raised knobs on the base. He always forgot about Muggle buttons, which looked nothing at all like normal buttons, the sort one might use to fasten a cloak. "You have to press the button to make it start, James."

"Right," said James. He looked over at Mrs. Evans and ran a hand through his hair, trying to project confidence. "I know about buttons," he told her. "We covered them in school, I just forgot. I'll get it started now—"

"No, wait! The lid—"

But before James could react to Lily's warning, he had already pressed the fateful button that began the eclectic spell. With a horribly loud whirring sound, the blades at the bottom of the machine came to life, turning with a speed that made the goblet shake. In moments, it had sent chunks of apple and squash soaring through the kitchen — and splashed the chicken stock directly into James's face.

Without thinking, James grabbed his wand from his pocket and cast a Body-Bind curse on the machine. He'd mostly done this on impulse — he hadn't been at all certain that it would work — but the machine froze, salvaging most of the ingredients inside. He flicked the switch to "Off," then removed the curse.

James turned sheepishly back toward Mrs. Evans, who looked as if she were caught between amusement and disbelief. After a moment, amusement won out, and she laughed warmly before handing James a towel from a drawer.

"That's alright, James, dear," she said. "Why don't I take over the soup for now, and you stir up the batter for the pudding?" James nodded, switching places with Mrs. Evans to join Lily at the table. He wiped the stock from his face. "Can you double-check the roast, love?" Mrs. Evans asked her daughter, grabbing some more apples to replace what had been lost. Lily nodded and turned to the oven.

Putting the towel aside, James picked up a wooden spoon to work on the pudding. He hoped his face wasn't too red.

Gripping the spoon awkwardly in his hand, he began to mix the sugar, chopped cranberries, flour and molasses together in wide circles. This was only his second time meeting Lily's parents —the first had been on the train platform as they arrived home for the holidays — and his first time visiting a Muggle house. He'd been so proud to be invited to Christmas Eve dinner, and when he'd offered to help, he'd been hoping to show the Evanses that he could fit in — to make a good impression. But the sheer number of strange devices and loud sounds to remember had overwhelmed him, made it difficult to keep Lily's instructions fixed in his head. He hadn't meant to use magic. Not, James grumbled internally, that he'd been doing so well without it...

James's spiraling thoughts were interrupted by a warm hand taking his own. His heart stuttered. "Hold the spoon like this," Lily said, stepping in to rearrange his grip. "Like a wand. You'll have more control, and you'll be able to whip the batter faster."

James could think of nothing but the warmth of Lily's hands over his own. She stood so close that he could have counted her freckles without his glasses.

The sudden din of eckletricity made him jump. Mrs. Evans had managed to fix the issue with the eclectric goblet (The blender, Lily had said? Or was he thinking of a fender?). After a few moments, the apples and squash were pulverized into a thick, liquid mixture. It looked as though the soup was saved.

"There," Mrs. Evans said with satisfaction, turning back toward Lily and James at the table. Her lips quirked upward, and Lily took a quick step back.

"I was just showing James how to hold the spoon, Mum," Lily said, reddening. "He doesn't mix batter often, since wizard families usually use spells for cooking..."

Mrs. Evans, who had looked skeptical of her daughter's excuses, turned toward James with interest. "Really?"

James nodded. "Oh, yeah, we always use magic to cook at my house."

"Well, isn't that the most exciting thing!" She looked impressed. "Could you show me?"

"He can! He's seventeen, too!" said Lily eagerly. That was right — she'd said that her mum was interested in magic. It was her sister that was the problem...

James ran his hand through his hair, which (to his embarrassment) was still wet with chicken stock. Lily's mother was watching him expectantly. This was his opportunity to make up for his earlier fumbling, James thought, drawing his wand. He tried to remember the spell for stirring. He'd seen the wand movement so many times...

The cranberry batter exploded in his face.

The kitchen was silent. James blinked, covered in food for the second time in a row. "Um. Usually my mum does it."

Mrs. Evans burst into loud guffaws, and suddenly, James felt lighter than he'd been all afternoon. "Of course she does," Mrs. Evans said. "Nothing new under the sun. Let me grab you a towel to clean up, dear..."

"Thank you very much, Mrs. Evans," James said. As she bustled from the kitchen, he turned back toward the table, wondering if he should measure out ingredients for a second batch.

As Mrs. Evans footsteps grew quieter on the stairs, Lily stepped close to James once more. "Very smooth," she whispered in his ear. In a quick movement, she licked some of pudding batter from his cheek and kissed the skin underneath. James blushed.

Lily walked back to her side of the table, eyeing James with mock thoughtfulness. Cranberry juice and molasses stained her mouth like lipstick. "The batter's okay," she said, grinning. "Let's add more sugar this time."

[tailschannel]

Sonic to get "several new mobile titles" in the future, according to SEGA management meeting document

The Sonic the Hedgehog series is expected to receive "several new titles" for mobile platforms, SEGA's parent company confirmed in a management meeting early Wednesday.

Apple and Google were both named as "key players" in the mobile sector for SEGA, as the publisher detailed an encompassing transmedia scheme for the blue blur, which will include licencing and collaborations with other third-party properties.

"Several new" mobile games under development

With an established presence thanks to the likes of free apps like Sonic Dash and Sonic Forces Speed Battle, the franchise looks set to dive in the world of mobile gaming, as part of SEGA's future plans.

The publisher did not rule out exclusivity clauses with subscription-based mobile gaming services. In recent days, the publisher signed a contract with Apple to produce Sonic Dream Team, and Netflix announced a mobile port of Sonic Mania Plus for their game subscription service.

No word of a specific timeframe for the aforementioned mobile games, currently in development.

Future Sonic mobile games to adopt Rovio's Beacon toolkit

As part of the mobile expansion, the upcoming slate is expected to adopt "Beacon", an internal development and marketing toolkit powered by machine learning, frequently utilized by Rovio, the Finnish studio behind Angry Birds that SEGA acquired over the summer.

The studio described Beacon as a platform to "build games and get games to market, models to profitably grow and monetize the game and live operations tools to maximize our players’ fun."

The toolkit has been criticized in a number of fan-run Angry Birds forums for incentivizing revenue at the expense of gameplay quality.

SEGA did not disclose if the Beacon platform will extend beyond the present suite of HARDlight mobile games.

More details on SEGA's resurrection of classic hits

SEGA also unveiled these new images and descriptions for the five new games announced at The Game Awards, described as a "power surge" to re-electrify their classic hits, like Crazy Taxi and Jet Set Radio.

Crazy Taxi: Innovative & Fresh Style Driving Action! Cheerful feeling of freedom and fusion of nature and city. Peel out the new stage of Crazy City!

Jet Set Radio: "Counter-Culture" - Tokyo Street Open World! Experience the "rebellion" movement that feels free in a suffocating society. Make friends, increase your fans, and create a movement!

Shinobi: Slay the enemies in the silence of the moment. Run through the world of Shinobi, full of monsters and ninja actions. Grab Oberozuki, the legendary sword and slay evil once more. Your clan and the world are counting on you.

Golden Axe: Warriors arise to subdue the demons! Defeat your enemies with a variety of attacks with swords and magic! The legendary story about the battle axe, Golden Axe is about to begin!

Streets of Rage Revolution: Beloved side-scrolling beat 'em up action series! Take control of one of the ex-officers and make the city a place where people no longer have to walk the "Streets of Rage."

The announcement coincided with SEGA's plans to strengthen their flagship video game brands like Persona and Like a Dragon, and to expand with legacy properties.

(Edit 2:00 pm ET - post updated with new details)

[lux-lost]

The angel moves through the halls on soft soles, cautiously quiet. The entities around it are not safe. The angel can feel their eyes on the back of its head. The taste of their gaze lingers on its skin, whispers the things unsaid into its ears. They think the angel is their kin, if suspiciously unusual. But in truth, it is a foreign object that sticks out and could be hammered down at any moment if it draws too much attention. They presume ownership over the angel, and that makes them dangerous. 

The angel’s exoskeleton is tight around its ribs. It warms and hides its form, and yet, that’s not enough. The angel feels the machine in its chest stutter and stumble nervously every once in a while. Every moment is stolen, could be the last. It breathes carefully, holding onto its core for stability.

Someone pulls the angel into a hug and it lets its body be soft and inviting. It feels the same softness from the other side, but none of that makes it past the bright glow of the angel’s aura, which conceals the hard shell tightly laced around its vulnerable parts.

The angel consumes and enjoys some very fucked up things. It is a deviant one, a pervert. Nonetheless its core is so pure and clean, any contact with the outer world could sully it. The angel is not ugly inside, not like other beings. Peeling back the layers only lays bare rosy flesh and silvery scar tissue. No rot, no maggots, no danger.

It is of vital importance to protect its angel core, to conceal it from prying eyes and prodding fingers. If someone witnessed that core, they’d judge the angel for it. They’d think it childish. Or lifeless. Or boring. Their ugly thoughts would dampen its glow. Some might even actively seek to ruin it. 

To keep itself safe, the angel needs to be very closed off. But it cannot be solely solitary. After all, the angel’s presence is a service, a service to those around it. It has to say and do the right things when in the presence of other beings. To uplift. To entertain. To make itself worth their while. 

For this purpose, the angel may occasionally draw upon its core to extend its glow to others. Its light can be used to illuminate the innocent, protect and nurture them as well. It’s the angel’s treasure, all it has to offer to other entities. When it is in their presence, the angel forfeits itself to them. It needs to be invited. It needs to be dismissed. It needs to be told what to do. The angel can provide something to those who need something, but it can’t really take anything.

The angel has to be very careful about what it invites back in when it puts out. Many people have a lot of beauty in them, but then something ugly as well. When eating apples directly from the tree, one has to watch for worms and mold.

The angel cannot just go around getting close to people carelessly. They may bait the angel with beauty, but then trap it in ugliness. They may try to tie it down with tendrils of need and despair, integrate it into their ugly lives, compel it to commit sin. It’s not their fault for having ugly parts, of course. The world is an ugly place after all, it poisons and corrupts. 

The angel is not immune to this corruption either, it gets infested sometimes as well. When that happens, it has to isolate and cleanse itself. Burning the poison away hurts, of course, but better than letting it fester for too long. 

The angel does not demand a pedestal, but it is certainly constructed to be put on one. To really be safe and fulfill its purpose, it needs to be put on one. Even when sullied, it still remembers and longs for its former purity. It’s this need for perfection, the yearning to be a shining idol on a pedestal, that drives its machine parts.

The pedestal, freely given, is its only form of power, the only power a being of its kind is allowed to hold. The angel actually can’t do shit. Its power is fully derived from those who put it on its pedestal. The angel’s light is a farce, nothing but smoke and mirrors for those who want to believe in it.

You have to understand, you may need the angel, but actually, the angel needs you more. It needs you to need it. It only has the worth you give it. It only has value in the needs it can meet. Without your need for its light, it has no reason to pretend it’s shining. It can’t really help you through your misery, but you can feed on its light until you feel better. If you weren’t miserable, you wouldn’t really seek out the angel, would you?

You can draw the angel in by making it feel needed, bind it with attention and affection. It doesn’t take much, just a little bit of kindness. It will attune itself to your needs. You can trust it, it’s loyal. When you don’t need it anymore, it is safe to just abandon it. It is safe to just forget about it. You don’t even have to tell it that you’re discarding it, it will figure that out itself after a while.

[weirdmarioenemies]

Name: BaNaNa Boy

Debut: Mario Kart 8

In the past, we have gone over some of the most silly and notable fictional sponsors appearing in the Mario Kart series, but one has always stood out as the most a-peeling, even back then! That is none other than BaNaNa Boy. Who is this mystical Boy? Why does he capitalize such seemingly unimportant letters? Let’s discuss.

BaNaNa Boy is, I must assume, the provider of the Banana Peels that are so important to the Mario Kart series! It is quite obvious, I must say. The peel is in the logo, and the slogan, “Let one slip!”, refers to slipping on them. I am also reasonably certain that this slogan is based on the phrase “let one rip”, referring to farting. Awesome!

I have to wonder how BaNaNa Boy got their start! I don’t know how long lore-wise banana peels have been used for kart races. Maybe at first the Kongs were more than happy to donate their used banana peels for the races, but as the karting franchise grew and grew, they needed more, a dedicated provider... a BaNaNa Boy! Someone BaNaNas for Bananas! Or maybe it is a more humble origin, and BaNaNa Boy was a small novelty shop, providing banana peels and other items to prank your friends with. When a large amount of banana peels were needed, one of their loyal customers suggested this small business, and that was their big break!

It may seem like producing large quantities of bananas only to use their peels would be incredibly wasteful. But do not fret!

Let One Slip right down your esophagus! As seen if you look closely at the vending machines in Super Bell Subway, BaNaNa Boy sells beverages, presumably made with the peeled bananas! You can find them wherever you find canned water from Toad Harbor and canned Roy Smooth Sounds. I would also like to assume that BaNaNa Boy provides bananas for other establishments, like Coconut Cafe, which we also see in Super Bell Subway! I know I would love a BaNaNa muffin!

I have been writing “BaNaNa” so many times here. I love the wacky capitalization! It makes me pronounce it in my mind like “bah nah nah” rather than “banana”. Do you think it stands for something? I think it can be a sort of acronym, representing their three main products: Bananas, Nanners, and ‘Nas! All brought to you by a Boy. A Boy with a dream.

A Boy with a dream of stardom! Advertised in New York Minute, Da Big Apple itself, is BaNaNa Boy, the musical! The smash hit musical! Is BaNaNa Boy such a huge and popular brand that it has become a multimedia franchise? I like to think that it is not. It’s still just a banana supplier. But now it has a musical, and everyone loves it! Wouldn’t you want to see what it’s all about? I would!

Maybe it follows the story of the company’s rise to worldwide success. Or maybe it is an entirely fictional adventure about BaNaNa Boy the banana peel and his wacky friends... and foes! BaNaNa Boy would be the hero defending the banana trees and the entire ecosystem around them, and the whole thing would distract people from the actual environmental damage the brand is actually causing just like any corporation. What a fun spectacle! Visit the concession stand and treat yourself to a BaNaNa peel packaged in its own single-use plastic wrapper!

Did you know that Super Bell Subway contains this incredible city map? That’s the subway terminal itself in pink, with train lines leading out, and you can even see Toad Harbor in box A2, and Moo Moo Meadows in box D3!

And did you know that this city is, in fact, the one seen in N64 Rainbow Road? It is so so SO cool and awesome to see such continuity in a franchise where there is so often none at all! As a wise woman once said, “More like Mario Kart Lore!” But how is this relevant? Look at the first map again! It’s blurry, but the text on each side is the names of a whole lot of the sponsors seen advertising throughout the game! This is not just any city, but apparently a capital of the racing world, full of storefronts or maybe even headquarters of businesses from BaNaNa Boy to Undead Motors. Hey, BaNaNa Boy! That’s the one we were talking about before this tangent!

According to section A, BaNaNa Boy (misspelled Banana Boy) is located in box C3. The labels on the map itself are nearly unreadable, but as they list some the same businesses multiple times even in the same boxes, I am inclined to ignore them. So let’s look at box C3, home of BaNaNa Boy!

Here it is! Somewhere in this image is BaNaNa Boy (location). It certainly looks like all residential buildings to me, though! Are you telling me they did not want to take the time to model individual unique businesses on this background setting far away from the actual racetrack, and/or did not plan in advance that a DLC track would establish that these locations are unique in the first place? Preposterous! Clearly BaNaNa Boy works from home and you can come visit him. In real life!

One more thing! Mario Kart Tour is very insistent upon people playing as Miis, with multiple racing suits available, each treated as its own character. I am not a fan of most of these, as they are usually just based on a character who is already playable, so I would rather play as the real character! However, there are some really fun and creative ones based on other things from the Mario series, my favorite probably being this one based on the end-of-level castles! If they can make a suit based on this, surely they could make one based on Banana... and maybe even BaNaNa Boy itself, seeing as this game celebrates the sponsors wherever it can, to the point of even putting their stickers on some racing helmet! It would absolutely become the best racing suit to me instantly. You could pretend you’re playing as THE BaNaNa Boy! I love selling out! BaNaNa Boy paid me to write this post! (in exposure)

[katz-chow]

of apple pies and bloody knives chapter one: a haze in the fields

warnings: pilot to slasher!graves x fem!reader, hallucinations, hauntings, paranoia

word count: 1,000

Amber waves of grains only applied to two parts of the United States, the Midwest, and Texas. Even with being one of the most well-known lines within American patriotism, one must see the image of urban life rather than endless fields of golden. Flat plains rolled by the windows of her small Chevy, the peaked window caused strands of brown hair to dance in the warm, late summer air. Over her shoulder in the back of the Impala, boxes of essentials clinked and clattered whenever the pavement proved to be porous

Sporadically hitting small towns on the way to her destination, fields turned into hills and then back to drier, rougher patches of empty land, a white dot of a house on the horizon. Orange clouds illuminated the sky as she turned on her lights, and a wave of dread washed over her. The rear view mirror showed nothing but sun-bleached tar and rocky hills behind her. For a pretty girl, even in the absence of men, she will never find peace, now or ever.

The familiar glow of a 7-11’s enthralled her like a moth to a flame, welcoming her back to civilization and the safety net of a crowd. The chill of a Montanan night shivered through her, arms tight on her chest as the wind whistled a soft tune. ‘No more than 20 minutes…’ She promised herself, stepping through the blast of air.

It didn’t even take 15 when she was back on the road again, tank full, bladder emptied, and switchblade thankfully still closed. Making good time, she started up her ending journey to Marburn, Montana. Never heard of it? Good. She checks the time on the dash of her car, ‘11:32 PM’ it read. It was late and late is always bad for a girl. She steps on the gas.

“How long you gon’ be here for, Sweetheart?” The extended-stay motel clerk asked as he thumbed the toothpick between his lips. The teal paint smothered the crackled walls behind him mixed with the fluorescent lights made him look greenish, hair flowing from the desk fan not escaping this effect either.

She fished for her credit card from her wallet and slid it across the counter to him, “Hopefully for a while, but let’s just say 2 weeks for now.”

Her eyes darted over his face, taking in his image just in case. His patchy stubble and tired eyes lent the appearance of a raccoon.

The man shrugged and swiped her card, a satisfying ding echoed from the machine. “$79 for the first week, then it’s $65 for the next, you got that?”

She continued to stare at him, her eyes empty and dead set on the space between his eyes, almost as if in a daze. “Yes, sir.” She whispered.

She took back her card from his hand and the small key to her room. The clock hit midnight as she tugged on her luggage into the damp and dingy motel room.

Locking the door behind her, she also closed the blinds, hanging up a tarp covering the windows as well. She hid. The room was small, with a bed, a pull-out couch, a bathroom, and a small kitchenette with a gas stove, fridge, and microwave. It was doable for the next few weeks, until she can confirm her work and boarding. That, however, was a task for the future. It all resembled a college dorm except if the student had paid extra to get a suite; she smiled just knowing she wasn’t back in that dump, but her smiled dropped into a thinned-lipped frown knowing she was never far from him.

She thought about the boxes of dishes and other necessities in the back seat of her car, debating on whether or not to risk the trip. Her fingers opened the blinds, face nearing in on the dust and eyes peaked between the plastic. Her eyes traveled to the white Chevy parked upfront, the diamond frame of her license plate peeled off. The empty voids mixed with the glittering crystals reminded her of the emptiness in beehives; some filled with honey and nectar while others were left abandoned, hollowed out as if only there to just be there. She sympathized with them as she looked away, catching sight of the innate feeling of danger.

A pair of eyes stared at her, a figure just out on the other side of the parking lot. The figure stood, hunched over a car trunk and turned backward towards her, eyes peering in like a mannequin. His face etched an image of a familiarity, a far she could never forget as he wore the faded red hoodie that she had stolen from him just months prior, laughter bubbled up in them both.

Now, even that thick, old hoodie couldn’t shield the chill than sprinted down her spine, her ears pooling with blood as her heart drummed a solid allegro in her chest. Her stomach growled. It was getting too late in the night, she thought, not worth the trip. Her fingers relaxed as she pulled herself away from the empty parking lot, only her white Chevy in front.

If there she could describe the room in one mood, unsettling would be the word. Dim, yellow lights caused all the shadows on the peeling wallpaper to enhance itself with long shadows, always looming over her seemingly small form. Despite this, she still found the warmth and comfort of tight sheets in a made bed. It wasn’t heavy like how she would remember her bed at home–or well, what was home, but it was better than the back of her car.

Sleep cradled her in its arms, rocking her to a blissful, silent slumber–which was appreciated in comparison to the long nights of sweat-drenched nightmares and paranoia. She was okay, she chanted in her head, convincing herself and the monster that is anxiety and intrusive thoughts. New environment, new life, new identity, she is truly scattered to the winds; a field of dandelions. 

[ley-med]

Gâteau invisible

The "invisible apple cake", is actually not that hard to make as I thought. On the other hand, it's just as good as I thought it should be, so a win-win situation

If anyone feels like trying, here's the recipe:

Just take 4 big eggs (slightly beat them), a cup of warm milk, 4 tablespoons of melted butter, 2 teaspoons of vanilla extract, mix them. Add 3/4 cup of flour, 3/4 cup of powdered sugar, a pinch of salt, 2 big teaspoons of cinnamon, few teaspoons of baking powder (the original recipe called for 1 teaspoon, I poured in approximately 7? I don't know how much is in a pack - then next time I tried it with less, cake turned out just the same), just mix it all up. Take 6 apples, peel them, cut out their middle, and slice as thin as you can - preferably with machine (it was so much slower when I tried with a hand held mandoline, I'm all for the robotic machine). Pour the apple slices into the batter, gently mix it (at this point, the batter should thicken slightly). Take a deep pan (mine was cc. 20x40 cm and approximately 7 cm deep), and using a big spoon, gently layer the apple-batter. Bake on 180°C for an hour, check on it regularly - it's done when it's golden.

Here's the original recipe as well.

[gay-milton-quotes]

I'm Unpeeling Myself from Big Tech!

"Unpeeling" being any act you take that limits the amount of data a large tech corporation can gather from you, decreases your reliance on products of those corporations, or increases autonomy over your technology. I'm ripping the term from a line in this review by Joanna Nelius, where she writes, "People are looking for ways to peel their eyes from their smartphones like a layer of Elmer’s glue from their hand — to remove a part of themselves that really isn’t a part of themselves." It's different than "unplugging" because the goal isn't to go off the grid, or even to limit one's technology usage. The goal, instead, is to extract from the invasive, addictive, destructive capitalist vision a set of tools that are useful to YOU.

It started when I realized I don't need a smartphone. I've deleted most social media from my phone, and the stuff I still have I prefer to check on my laptop. Not all "dumb phones" (I hate this term) offer the same features, though, so I began to think on a granular level about what I need from a cell phone. Eg, not all "dumb phones" provide MMS, but my family lives 3k miles away. I wanna still talk in the groupchat.

On the more complex end, I write on my phone. I've been using Google Docs to move seamlessly from scribbled writing drafts on my phone to formatted, finished works on my computer since I was fourteen.

Except, Google Docs is useless now. I've been unable to use it since they lowered the storage capacity. The only other cloud storage writing thingy with similar functionality is Office 365, which sucks.

Could a dumb phone with a basic "notes" feature work? Maybe, but I'd have to re-type everything to get it into a formatted document. Ideally, I'd have like, a mini-laptop just for writing - something I could fit in my pocket or in a small bag, so I could bring it to work without looking like a dick - and then, in addition, a basic phone for calls/texts/GPS stuff. But does a device this specific to my use case even exist?

Yes. Yes it does.

This is a GPD Micro PC. GPD mainly sells handheld gaming machines, though this product is designed for mobile IT professionals. It's probably too chonky for a pocket, but mark my words, I will figure out how to make it work for me.

It's stupid, but this gave me a rush. I've been struggling along, tied to the bloated corpses of three gmail accounts, for years, because I needed Google Docs for my writing workflow. But now I don't. I have the power to actually tailor my tech for my life.

By this point, I was like, alright, I don't need Google Docs anymore, I don't need a smartphone, what else? Do I need Windows? No, probably not, right? I can use Linux Mint on this new guy, especially since he'll mostly be a basic writing machine. LibreOffice is less intrusive and bloated than MS Word - a better experience for free than I'd have from the paid program. If I go all the way and install Linux, I also won't have to deal with ads in my start menu, or pre-installed spyware screenshotting my activities.

In fact, if I back everything up on an external drive, I can delete my old Google Drives and switch my main computer to Linux, too! So, I finally bit the bullet and invested in an external hard drive.

This is the problem with "product ecosystems," by the way. When one part of that ecosystem - Google Docs - fails, the whole thing collapses. All the bloat and corruption you dealt with just stops being worth it, and it's easier to make a radical change to a new system. I witnessed something similar happen with comedy tech youtuber Dankpods earlier this year, except with Apple's ecosystem: he was a lifetime Apple guy - seemingly not in a worship way, but he liked their products, and was certainly in Apple's ecosystem. Then a couple things went sour for him, and now he runs Linux.

I'm doing this for personal and ideological reasons. I'm personally sick of Clippy - I mean, Copilot - peeping in to tell me how to write what I'm writing on Office 365. I abhor the idea of paying Google for a service they offered for free until recently, knowing they can flip the script at any point. And while we're talking ideology, I'm a communist, and even though this is far from a shift everyone can make, I believe that taking any available steps towards shutting Big Tech out of our lives is a net good. If all you can do is delete Instagram, or use a screentime tracker, or switch to Firefox, do it. I'm finally in a position to make this more drastic change, and I'm excited.

Get in the weeds about how you use technology. Do you need everything at your fingertips, all the time? If not, what, specifically, do you need? Is there a way that you, now or in the future, can trim out the parts you dislike? And what can you change now?

[crisp-autumnal-air]

Apple-Pecan Tart

(Via Our Kitchen Sink)

Recipe from the New York Times

Ingredients:

1 1/3 cups flour, more for rolling

1 tablespoon granulated sugar

1/2 teaspoon salt

10 tablespoons cold unsalted butter

1 large egg yolk plus 3 large eggs

2 medium tart apples, peeled, cored and sliced

2 tablespoons light brown sugar

1 1/2 cups coarsely chopped pecans

1 cup maple syrup

1 teaspoon vanilla extract

1 cup heavy cream, whipped, for serving

Yield: 8 to 10 servings.

Directions:

1. Heat oven to 400 degrees. Place flour, sugar and salt in food processor. Pulse to blend. Dice 8 tablespoons butter, place in food processor and give it about 20 quick pulses, until butter is in tiny lumps. Beat egg yolk with 4 tablespoons ice water. Open cover of machine and sprinkle in egg mixture. Pulse briefly. Ingredients should start to clump together to form a dough; do not allow a ball of dough to form. If dough is too dry to hold together, add another teaspoon or two of water and pulse again.

2. Transfer dough mixture to lightly floured work surface and gather together to form into a flat, smooth disk. Roll to a circle about 13 inches in diameter and fit into a 10-inch fluted tart pan. Line with foil, weight with pastry weights and bake 10 minutes, until dry-looking. Remove foil and weights, prick bottom of pastry in a few places and bake until golden, about 20 minutes more. Remove from oven.

3. While pastry is baking melt remaining 2 tablespoons butter in a skillet. Add apples and sauté over medium-high heat until lightly browned. Stir in brown sugar, then add pecans. Sauté another minute. Remove from heat and spread in baked pastry. Beat eggs, stir in syrup and vanilla and pour over apples and pecans.

4. Bake 15 minutes. Reduce heat to 350 degrees and bake until set and browned on top, about 25 minutes more.

To make ahead: Bake tart; let cool completely. Wrap pan and all in plastic, then foil. Freeze. Thaw 2 hours, then bake at 350 degrees for 20 minutes and allow to cool 30 minutes before serving with whipped cream.

Pastry can be mixed, formed into a disk, wrapped in plastic and refrigerated up to 2 days in advance of using. Let it come to room temperature 1 hour before rolling. Prebaked pastry, cooled, not filled, can also be frozen in pan, wrapped in plastic, for up to 1 week.

[alex51324]

So I was making tomato sauce, for my eggplant parmesan, and it occurred to me that this is probably a bit of technology that a lot of people haven't seen or used:

It's called a food mill, and before blenders or food processors, it was what you used if you wanted to puree something. Whatever you're starting with has to be pretty soft; tomato sauce, applesauce, and baby food are the killer apps for this thing.

You can sometimes pick these up at thrift shops really cheap--I think this one was $2--because they aren't used very much these days. But it's a really efficient little machine, and it can be pretty handy.

Here's what it looks like without tomato pulp in it:

So you usually cook your food--tomatoes, in this case; I started with about six large, whole tomatoes, chopped them up a bit, and put them in the pot for a couple of hours, with some garlic and onion that I'd sauteed in a little olive oil while I was chopping up the tomatoes.

You set the food mill over another pot--or a bowl, whatever--put your cooked food in, and turn the handle. The blade, which looks a lot like a fan blade, is angled a little:

So the food goes under the gap at the front, rounded edge of the blade, and then is pushed against the base of the pot:

Which, in addition to being perforated, is also slightly angled. If you see how the perforations are sort of arranged in three sections, like the Mercedes symbol, each of those thirds is slightly higher in the middle than on the edges. So as you turn the handle, the contents keep churning around, going under the blade and being pressed through the perforations.

And this one has an especially nice feature--my dad's big one that he uses when he cans tomatoes doesn't even have this. Here's the underside:

That little wire is attached to the screw that you use to remove/replace the blade (so you can wash the thing), so as you turn the handle, not only does the blade go around inside the pot, but the wire goes around the outside and scrapes your tomato sauce (or whatever it is) into the pot you've placed underneath.

The other thing this little gadget does, is separate out any components that weren't softened by the cooking process. With tomatoes, that's the seeds and skins:

This is the residue from about 5 tomatoes (I used six, but I left a cup or so of the sauce un-milled, because I like it a little chunky.) So you are losing a little fiber here, but those tomato skins will not cook down, and they're pretty annoying in a sauce.

The other way you can get rid of them is, cut an X in the bottoms of your tomatoes and dip them in boiling water; 9 times out of 10 the skin will slip right off. Then squeeze the seeds out, and chop and cook from there. But the food mill method is quicker, and maybe some nutrients come out of the skin/seeds into the sauce; I don't know. And of course if you find yourself needing to make sauce out of cherry tomatoes, the food mill is really the only sensible way. (Or, you know, if you're making quarts and quarts of sauce out of bushels of tomatoes. But if you're doing that, you probably planned the whole project in advance, whereas a Too Many Cherry Tomatoes situation can happen to anyone, and is a good reason to have a little food mill like this on hand, if you happen to find one cheap and have room to store it.)

Applesauce, same thing; you don't have to peel and core the apples if you're going to put it through a food mill.

Anyway, here's my tomato sauce, bubbling away:

(Ignore my messy stove; that happens with tomato sauce.)

[oathkeeperoxas]

Wip Wednesday

Giving omega Ice a good/bad time in today's snippet. As I tend to do 🥰 Also far too long a scene, but you know. I cannot shut up!

“You should go,” Ice makes himself say. “Especially if you need to go back to yours and change.”

“Yeah,” Mav says. “Okay.” He kisses Ice again. “Any requests for dinner?” 

Like Ice could give a single fuck about that right now. “I’ll cook,” he says, insanely, because he never cooks while in heat. 

“Yeah?” Mav asks, looking happy about it. Ice kisses him again, licking over his lips, enjoying the slide of their tongues… 

“Sure,” Ice says. “Maybe stop by the shops and grab some eggs. And pasta.” 

“Can do,” Mav agrees easily. “Okay, yeah, see you then.”

Ice follows him to the door, and makes himself stay inside. Mav lifts a hand as he gets on his bike, and peels down the road with a low rumble. Ice watches him out the window, and then leans against the wall, suddenly sweaty and feeling every tacky spot where he and Mav left the evidence of their coupling on him. 

He nearly runs to his bathroom, yanking off clothes and hopping on foot to foot as his shower blasts ice cold water at him. He’s learned that sometimes hot water is a luxury that can’t be had, but when he tries to stick a hand under the spray it feels like he’s plunged it into the Antarctic waters. Nope, nope, nope, not happening. He scratches along his skin while he’s waiting, trying to feel less like he needs to rub up against a wall or something while he waits. 

The water finally turns tepid, and he groans as he gets in, scrubbing himself down. The soap he normally uses is sharp and bitter against his nose, and he scrunches his face up and turns away from it. The stupid dollar store apple scented shampoo that Mav uses would be perfect right about now. Mav would be perfect right about now. He pauses in the middle of picking dried come off his thighs to think about how it had gotten there. Mav, heavy, demanding, taking… 

He shudders. The long, long hours between now and when Mav will come home suddenly seem insurmountable. Why had Mav left? They’ve been together for half a year, Ice had told him that he wanted to spend their heats together… He blinks slowly. The water is turning icy again, and he swears as he tries to get the rest of it off of him. He does a passable job, and then grumbles as he scrapes what remains off with his towel. 

He throws that and his clothes in the washing machine, and then stares at it when it starts. He keeps his place clean, but there’s barely any food here. The back of his neck itches as he pads through his house quietly to the kitchen. There isn’t a lot of food here – protein snacks, one lonely egg, two apples, a few bits and pieces that he can make a meal from if he’s too lazy to go and get food elsewhere. He eats one apple, thinking. He has no desire to leave the house, but he also doesn’t really have enough food. He should have gone shopping yesterday. He’d been thinking about it, but then Mav had distracted him, and then it had been late. 

Shit. He has to call in. His stomach twists when he thinks about telling this to Viper, but it’s fine. Alphas have heats too. This is normal. This happens every day. He dials the base, checking the time. Viper picks up, thank God. Ice tells him, tone completely emotionless and flat, that he’ll need heat leave for the week. Viper says it’s fine, and that he’ll see him next Monday. Ice hangs up and puts his head in his hands. That wasn’t so bad. 

Duty to his job done, he cleans his kitchen, so that he has a neat and orderly place to take stock of his food options. Some dried pasta, but not the type that Mav likes. Mav’ll probably get that tonight, so that’s fine. Some cans of soup, beans, peas. He could make a roast. But he doesn’t have any potatoes. Or anything to roast. Groaning, he digs his palms into his eyes. Shit. He’s gotta feed Mav. Can’t expect him to come over and bring all the food. 

Solutions. Very reluctantly, Ice dials the only other person he trusts with this who is in a twenty mile radius. 

“Hello? Bradshaw residence.”

“Carole,” Ice says. A trickle of sweat down his spine. “Can I ask a favour?”

“Tom?” Carole asks. “Are you okay? Why are you calling? Shouldn’t you be at work?”

“I’m fine,” he grits out. “In heat. Can you go shopping for me.”

A pause at the other end of the line. Shit. This was a bad idea. This was – you asked your family to do stuff like this for you. But Sarah is in New York. He doesn’t have anyone else to call.  

“Of course,” she says, and Ice blows out a breath. 

“I have–cash. And a list. Whenever you’re free. If it’s okay.”

“It’s okay,” Carole says. “Now, how about you sit tight, I’ll drop Bradley off at school, and come over to get the money and the list. Sound alright?”

“Yeah.” Sweat makes his hands slip on the phone. “Yeah, that’s–that’s fine.”

“Okay. I’ll see you soon.”

Ice stares at the phone after he hangs up. He should probably… put some clothes on. And double check the list. And the cash. He goes through the contents of his kitchen again. He shouldn’t ask Carole to do more than one run for him, so he needs to plan out the week. Dinner tonight, breakfast tomorrow, and dinner tomorrow… Mav needs food for lunch too. Anxiety grips him. He sent Mav off without any food today. Stupid, idiot – it’s fine. Mav went home, probably slapped together a sandwich while he was changing. Ice breathes out. But if he doesn’t go home tomorrow, Ice needs to make sure he’s fed. 

Yes. Feeding Mav, showing that Ice can make food for him, good food… his head buzzes a little bit as he adds to his list. It ends up being long. Maybe that’s good, he can tell Carole not to worry if there’s something not in stock at the shops. He’s still wearing nothing, so he puts on some sweatpants. He’s sweaty and itchy and even the usually soft fabric feels rough against his skin. He can’t stand the thought of wearing a shirt. 

He scrounges up all the cash he has on hand, separates out the ones and fives, and puts the rest in a pile next to the list. That should cover it. He checks the time. Forty three minutes since he called Carole. She should have dropped the kid off at school by now… Would she come here directly after? Surely. She said she would see him soon. He paces around the house, getting out all his bedding to distract himself, but then he’s caught up in throwing it in the wash, because it smells all musty… He hasn’t used it since last year’s heat. 

There’s a knock on his door just as he puts the washing on, and he goes out to find Carole on his front porch, dressed in her work gear. 

“Do you need to get to work?” he asks stupidly. 

“I asked Denise to cover for me for an hour,” Carole says. “Oh, Tom, you look terrible. Where’s your nest? Can I come in?” 

“Yeah, yeah, sure,” Ice mutters, embarrassment staining the back of his neck. “I, uh, haven’t built a nest yet.” Shit, shit, Mav is going to expect to see one– “I’ve got some stuff in the wash now to make sure it’s all clean. Will be ready to go after it dries.”

Carole gives him an odd look. Her calm floral scent is flavouring the air, and Ice finds himself relaxing in the face of it. Carole isn’t from work, Carole isn’t related to him, Carole is an omega… It’s okay if she sees him like this. They’ve known each other for a while now. Ice and Mav hosted Bradley at their places earlier in the year when Carole had her heat. This is normal.

“You took your whole nest up to wash it? That’s more effort than I normally put in,” Carole chuckles. “Now, where’s the list? Here?” 

Ice nods, because he doesn’t know how to say that he doesn’t keep a nest regularly. Just builds one for his heat, when the urge gnaws into him to become undeniable. He’s seen Carole’s nest, once. She has one all the time. Ice knows that most omegas do. Bitterness rises in his throat for a moment before he swallows it. It’s different. He’s different. He knows that, and it won’t help anyone to take it out on Carole.

“Yeah,” he manages. “And some cash to cover it, just take it all.”

“Oh, this is too much,” Carole fusses. 

“Please,” Ice says. “Just… please.”

She looks up at him, before tucking the list and the cash into her handbag. “Fine. But I’m bringing you all the change.”

“Sure,” he says. “Sure, that sounds like a plan.” And he’s certain he won’t get her to accept any of it anyway. He and Mav send her money every month when they get paid, and that had been difficult enough to get her to accept. 

“I’ll try to be quick, though… there was a lot there.” She looks at him, curious.

“I should have gone shopping yesterday,” he mutters. “Don’t worry if you can’t find anything. I’ve still got some stuff here, so I won’t starve anyway, just…” He just wouldn’t be able to cook for Mav. 

“Alright,” Carole says easily. “I’ll go, and be back soon.”

“Thank you,” Ice says, following her to the door. “I appreciate it.”

She shakes a hand at him. “Don’t you worry about that, Tom Kazansky. I take care of my own.” And she’s gone. 

Ice stares at the door. He didn’t know that he counted as one of Carole’s own. Protectiveness rises in his breast. They’re family, he’s taken care of her in her heat, she’s taking care of him… he sees Bradley pretty much every weekend, picks him up from school… 

He wishes he had something of hers to put in the nest. But he doesn’t even have anything from Mav, he barely has anything from himself – it’s fine. He can make one without it. He strips his bed, puts on the spare set of sheets, and starts collecting cushions from throughout the house. There’s one on every seat, which makes them all look normal and in place, until he picks them all up and can pile them on his bed. He’s nervous about what this looks like, suddenly. He normally doesn’t really care, but normally it’s only him seeing this, if he even bothers to do this at all. Carole probably tweaks her nest constantly… she probably has the perfect set up long discovered. He’s only been able to see his mother’s nest up close, and that was always so open, with gifts from her family in it to make it comfortable. He’s never even seen Sarah’s nest. What if this isn’t the right way to do it? What if Mav doesn’t like it–

The idea haunts him as he searches through the house for anything that he might want and has forgotten. He needs to find something to do until Carole gets here. He ditches half his pillows and then switches them out twice. The washing finishes and he switches it to the drier. His fingers itch. He rearranges the kitchen. He keeps things around here clean enough, but he starts scrubbing out his cooking implements. He’ll need them to be clean if he’s going to cook for Mav. 

He’s drying the third batch of kitchenware when his door opens. He spins, a spatula in his hand, lip lifting as a snarl builds in his throat at whoever thought it was a good idea to barge in unannounced–

“You’d better come help me with this shopping, Thomas!” 

Ice swallows his growl with pure force of will. “Carole,” he says, voice rumbling. She dumps two bags on his counter and meets his eyes, putting her hands on her hips. 

“Now, don’t give me that look,” she says, fishing cash out of her handbag and slapping it down. “There’s your change. Now, come on.” 

Ice begrudgingly follows her outside, squinting into the sun. His driveway is hot against his bare feet as he hurries to Carole’s car and grabs as many bags as he can, unwilling to be outside for any longer than he has to. Most of the houses around here are military so everyone will be at work; except for those that are married. Bile burns at the base of his throat. That’s probably not the best thing to be thinking about right now. 

“Now that’s just showing off,” Carole says, picking up the last bag and following him inside. “I know it’s not quite my business, but are you hosting someone, dear?” 

Ice feels a flush on his neck, and doesn’t meet her eyes. “Uh,” he says. 

Carole laughs. “Interesting, interesting! You know my gossip is fairly limited these days…” She lifts an eyebrow. Ice pretends not to see it as he starts spilling supplies out onto his counter, which is already full of various random kitchen implements. He’d bought a pasta strainer when he’d moved in, but whoever had last lived here had left behind more random shit than he’d known what to do with. They’d certainly been fond of ordering from infomercials, that’s for sure. He shoves it all to the side. 

“I’m not telling you anything,” Ice grumbles. 

“Not even a hint?” Carole asks sweetly. He sends her a grumpy look. She smiles. “Oh, I see. Well, that just gives me more room to imagine a torrid romance for you.” 

“What,” Ice splutters. 

“My dear, I have to think about something during my dreary work hours.”

Ice unpacks faster so he’ll have an excuse for why he doesn’t respond.

Carole hugs him before she leaves. Ice presses his nose against her hair and breathes in her soothing scent. Carole has never worn scent suppressors, and he’s familiar with her natural scent, and it’s calming. Another omega, who is a part of his family, maybe, even… Supporting him, helping him, strengthening ties with him. He holds her a little closer. 

Carole purrs against him quietly. At least he’s gotten some practice from Mav with scent marking, so he doesn’t embarrass himself by fumbling too much when Carole offers her cheek up to him. She’s shorter than Mav, so he has to lean down further to rub their cheeks together. 

“Have fun,” she murmurs, and Ice clears his throat. 

“Drive safely,” he tells her. 

“Always,” she promises. “And remember, this means you get to return the favour next year!” 

Ice closes the door after her and sighs. He appreciates the distraction, but double checking the clock only tells him that it’s not even eleven in the morning yet. 

He can fill the time. He can make a task list. He puts away all the shopping, checking off his list as he goes – Carole had put it on top of the change, a neat check mark next to what she had picked up. He double checks everything, putting it away as he does. This is more food than he’s had in this house for the entire time that he’s lived here. It’s a little daunting to see it all stacked into his cupboard like this. 

Focus. He puts all his appliances away, he puts all his food away, then makes himself a sandwich because he’s got the ingredients even if he’s not even hungry. He knows he needs to eat, so he chews angrily and drinks some water angrily and then pulls everything out of the drier. 

Finally. Everything is at his fingertips. He gets to work.