#bob is about to get an unpleasant surprise with his pancakes but lets leave that for later

[stainlesssteellocust]

a few hundred words of food rambles

I'll put this in the tag because it's blatantly Bob talking but I'll also put it under a keep-reading bc its excerpted from my ludicrously self indulgent draft fic

…The Full Antarctican is hailed as a shining example of what our shared cultures can achieve when we’re not dead-set on murdering one another. It’s no surprise, really: Tsalal cuisine has an age-old love affair with cured meats and sausage, probably due to how important food preservation is in their environment. It makes for a dramatic contrast with the other hominin species we know, the ‘elves’, who have been using temporal stasis grids to preserve their food stocks since prehistory*.

(then of course there’s BLUE HADES, but they’re a whole other kettle of…well.)

But the Tsalal did things like we did, the old fashioned way, with salting and smoking and drying, so we had many tastes in common. And the pig was a gamechanger. An animal that’s hardy, eats anything, and has a taste remarkably similar to that of human flesh? They went for that like unsavvy CEOs in the dot-com bubble, and nowadays they say that genuine manflesh is harder to come by down South than real wasabi.

I still go for the pancakes, though.

Somehow Violetta’s order comes out first, and she doesn’t care to wait for me. The Full Antarctican resembles a Full English in most respects, but there are differences: No toast or tomatoes, obviously, and the beans are cooked in a different, bruise-coloured sauce. But there’s more meat – she has an extra sausage, and her plate is piled high with rashers of bacon. The hash browns and eggs are ubiquitous and much like what you or I would be used to, though I’m told that as we get closer to Antarctica itself the ingredients will start to change; other tubers, penguin eggs. The menu even offers black pudding, though Violetta’s subbed it out for qworl.

I can’t help but stare as she picks up her piece – not like you could get a fork in it, is there – and bites into it like a crisp apple. The stuff is basically pemmican and I once knew a kid who broke his teeth on some for a dare, but her black teeth and elongated jaws crunch through it without a care in the world.

…

*As a result, a lot of elven food is somewhat bland at the point of serving; it mostly serves as a vehicle for extremely elaborate sauces, which provide a lot of the taste. The food we know about, anyway, which comes from army cooks and the private chefs of a few Host nobles – maybe the Morningstar Empire’s mercantile classes or slave populations had rich, fascinating food cultures of their own, but since their feudal overlords left them behind to die on their blasted homeworld, we’re never going to know about them.

[akwolfgrl]

I'm a great fuck but better lover part 6

Zoro entered the boys' room. It was late but still earlier than his usual time. When he placed his swords on the coach, he noticed a new extra large hammock strung up. Sanji lay curled up inside. It was safe to assume that this was the surprise waiting for him that Sanji had mentioned during dishes. Zoro slid off his shoes, shirt, and pants, leaving his boxers on before sliding into the hammock next to his boyfriend. He pressed Sanji's slimmer body against his own, his head tucked under his chin, the other man's long legs trapped his own snuggling closer. Zoro could get used to this.

When he woke, Sanji was gone, only Luffy's snores to keep him company, Usopp was on watch last night. Zoro grabbed the clothes he had on yesterday and grabbed his swords from the coach. He went straight for the kitchen, and he paused to look inside before he opened the door the rest of the way. Sanji left it open a cack so Mr. Noodles could come and go as he pleased. He was sitting at the table, a cup of tea by his side, a small plate with half a pice of toast with red jam on top, a cigarette in one hand and his pen in the other. His blond hair with it slight curls glowing in the morning light. Zoro opened the door and made his way inside.

“Your up early today,” Sanji spoke, taking a drag from his cigarette. “Come sit by me, I was just working on your notebook,”

“My notebook?” Zoro decided to lay across the bench the best he could and lay his head in Sanji's lap. His boyfriend's free hand ran his long fingers through his short hair.

“While in town I picked up a pack of colored notebooks to keep records on food prenceses for everyone, right now I'm just transferring the info I already have,” Sanji explained taking a sip of his tea. “Did you want tea or toast before bakefast? I made Rose Jam form the roses you got me."

“Nah, what's for breakfast anyway?”

“Soufflé pancakes and okonomiyaki for you, of course lots of meat for Luffy,”

“Okonomiyaki? I haven't had that in years, thire was a street cart that used to make the best okonomiyaki I had some when I said my goodbyes before I left,” Zoro had spent hours at Kuinas grave knowing he wouldn't see her again until he achieved his goal.

“Zoro, we need to talk,” Zoro sat up, that did not sound good. But he couldn't think of anything that could be worng. He knew he was new to realships but he couldn't have fucked up that badly alredy…the crows nest incident not withstanding. “About sex, we shuld have talked before and more. I really don't want anthoer crows nest cry to happen,”

“Oh…OK? What do we need to talk about? It's just sex?”

“It stopped being just sex when you started spanking me, let alone edging, tieing me up and me choking you with my thighs,” Sanji listed off his cigarette bobbing while he spoke.

“Yah, I guess you've got a point,”

“So I'm no expert, but I know a few things about this, we already talked a bit about what we don't like, I guess add degadison to the list. We need to talk before trying new things I think, as much fun as it was to choke you with my thighs it was pretty fucking treffing, what if you didn't pinch me? What if I didn't feel it in time? Also we need to get better rope for the next time, rope burn is very unpleasant,”

“But I did pinch you, and I didn't pass out,” Zoro pointed out. “But I suppose your right,”

“So I was thinking maybe write down some hard and soft limits to start with maybe stuff you wish to try, like for me a hard limit is the head and face coverings, soft is the gags. I don't like them, but well, we do live in a shared space, so they might be necessary,” Sanji handed him the feathered pen and some paper. “I need to start breakfast, so how about we talk again after dinner,” Sanji gave him a kiss before heading to the fridge, taking his dishes with him

Zoro shoved the papper and the pen in his Haramaki and escaped to the crows nest. Once thire, he took one of his weights and got to work. As he got into the rhythm, he thought about what they had discussed. He had to think back on his prior experience about what he did and did not like.

He honestly didn't like being called Master/Slave/Daddy/Sir he didnt like saying it, ethior. It was just weird to him. Zoro honestly never had thought about this before, but for his Love-Cook, he'd give it ago.