#canna butter

[gremtokes]

[forestshadow-wolf]

"Okay, Pal, Okay. You're okay. Just breathe, okay? Just breathe. I'm gonna get you out of here, yeah?" Soap panted, hauling his soldier towards the scant shade of the single tree in the blazing sun. He needed a break. Just a moment to catch his breath. He was supposed to be leading a training experience in Australia with Ghost, but they'd been ambushed and had gotten seperated. He didn't know the motive behind the attack, only that he already had one confirmed death of one of his soldiers, one overheated soldier, and he was somewhere lost in the Australian outback with very little water, and one hydro packet. For all he knew Ghost could be in a worse situation, he just hoped he was okay.

"Here." He tore open the hydro packet and pressed it to Dunbury's lips, "drink it. All of it." They sucked tmat the viscus liquid greedily, squeezing every last drop they could from the packet.

They needed to get going, he had no idea if they were being followed, but it wasn't out of the relm of possibilities, and at the very least they had to get somewhere shaded or they would be cooked meat in this heat. He just needed another moment to gather his strength.

"..-ny? J-hn-y? Johnny, you copy?" His radio sputtered to life. Ghost. It was Ghost! He was alive!

"I'm here! I'm here, Ghost! Are you okay? Where are you?"

"I'm alive. Got one of the Dunburys with me, we found a rock outcropping, figure we'll hunker down 'til night. Where are you? Solid?"

"I got the other Dunbury. I think I see yer rock, but I dinnae think we'll make it. Dunbury's very near heat stroke, an' I'm no' farin' much better. We're at the nearest tree, you can't prolly see us. I cannae get him an' me to ya."

"Okay, hang tight. I'm comin' for ya. Just keep yourselves already, alright?"

"Copy that."

Soap glanced at Dunbury as the line went dead, they seemed to be doing even worse, not better. Their were fluttering closed, and soap made an effort to slap them awake. He needed to cool the off and fast. The quick releases went easily when ge pulled them and the vest fell away, then he was removing harnesses and straps before shirt and trousers were gone aswell. His knife went through one of the discarded sleeves like butter, and his canteen rattled dauntingly low when he picked it up, but nonetheless he took a swig, and used the rest to wet the torn fabric in his hand. It wasn't much, but he laid it around the soldier's neck anyway. It would have to last forever, just until Ghost found them.

The time passed in a blur of heat, and swear, and rousing slaps, but Ghost found them eventually. And thank god, too, because soap wasn't sure how much longer he could last.

"Okay, Johnny, I'm here. You solid? Can you stand?" And soap couldn't be happier to hear a bitt in his whole life.

"Aye, jus' help me up." He reached out a sweat-soaked hand and Ghost pulled him up, steadying him when his vision went black for a moment with the bloodrush. Then they were hauling Dunbury up, and Ghost was leading them back the way they came.

Stumbling, and more than a little cooked to death they made it. The shade cast by the rocks felt a million degrees cooler than the sun, and soap could have kissed it for att it was worth. Instead he collaped against cooler rock and panted.

Ghost's Dunbury worried over Soap's Dunbury, but they would be okay. At least now they weren't getting pre-baked in the laser beam anymore. He felt plastic press to his lips and pryed his eyes open in surprise. Ghost was kneeled at his side, pressing a torn open hydro packet to his lips, just as he had done to his Dunbury only hours earlier. He took it gratefully, and it felt like heaven on his tongue, on his throat.

Ghost's Dunbury was sweat-soaked but alive, and his own looked just a bit more alive, and was definitely more conscious.

At some point Ghost had managed to get through to base, and Laswell let them know that they had evac on the way, but it wouldn't arrive until at night. There was nothing else to do about that, but sleep. And soap did so happily. For a couple hours, at least. Ghost had been keeping watch while they rested, and soap; now more rested; was able to give him a break.

Ghost didn't go to sleep right away. He and soap just sat in silence for a while. Not speaking. Just. Existing. And later when Ghost bedded down, Soap took watch. Watching the sun get lower and lower in the sky until eventually stars began peeking through the sky.

The air had gotten considerably cooler, it had been more than a few hours, but he didn't wake Ghost, and the Dunburys still slept soundly, but Ghost was beginning to rouse.

"You should have woken me." Ghost's voice was rough, dry. Soap handed him the last of the water. Ghost took it, drank half, tried to give the rest to soap, but he suspected Ghost had already given up most of his water, and thus needed it more than him. That's just how Ghost was, soap learned. You wouldn't know if you didn't know him, but soap knew. He knew the way ghost acted so much like he didn't care, and yet he never hesitates to give something if someone needs it. He's always the first to offer, in the name of care with the mask of efficiency or practicality.

"Heli's should be almost here. Then we can get out of this hell hole, and hopefully never come back here again."

[springwillowweeping]

we ain't tryna hear shit from someone with more badges than funnybones buddy lmao

Shotgun a bong rip into the dick call that a smoked sausage.

[enqmind]

Fic!

This is what happens when you've recently read baby trapping fics and then have a conversation about what foods you can't eat around taking certain medications.

Soap/Female Reader WC: 1.4k 18+ content.

Warnings: Baby trapping, manipulation, tampering with contraceptives, tampering with food, technically poisoning, misuse of a dietary supplement. Noncon, despite containing no actual sex (because baby trapping).

Reader notes: Implied to dislike marmite, probably isn't Scottish, dislikes masks (not a covid denier. they just make her uncomfortable).

Gothmet

 Johnny has been cooking a lot lately.

 “Trying to take after your compatriot?”

 He’d laughed at that.

 “I think you’ll find I don’t hit my Boiling Point quite so fast, love.”

 You suspected he’d last five minutes in food service, since you’re not actually allowed to explode the sous chef.

 But as a home cook? Oh, he was passable.

 His latest creation was squid ink ravioli filled with an avant garde bacon and nigella seed concoction.

 It was interesting, but good was a different question.

 “Do you like it?” He asked, puppy dog enthusiasm radiating off of him in waves.

 “… I don’t know,” you confessed. “It’s certainly interesting, but I’m not sure one way or the other.”

 You half expected his face to fall, but instead he looked thoughtful as he took a considered bite.

 “Aye, I see what you mean. This’ll take some workshopping. You willing to be my taste tester?” 

 You grinned at him over your wine.

 “It would be my pleasure.”

 “And that is my top priority, after all.”

 He didn’t seem discouraged by the half hearted kick under the table, especially if his enthusiasm for ‘dessert’ was considered.

 His new culinary interest expanded to baking.

 The next day he presented you with a zebra cake with the highest contrast you’d ever seen. The chocolate stripes were almost jet black.

 “I got some o’  that ultra Dutch processed cocoa to try making my own oreos. Ordered one of them special biscuit cutters too, but it hasn’t arrived yet. So I decided to make a very accurate zebra cake.”

 “You ordered one for bourbons too, right?”

 “What do you take me for, hen? Some kind of godless heathen?”

 You raised your hands placatingly.

 “Just making sure, Johnno. Gotta check to see if you’ve been replaced by a sexy doppelganger every now and then.”

 He squinted at you.

 “Yeah, well. You’ll get your bourbons. With bourbon cream, mind.”

 “Always trying to ply me with something, aren’t you?”

 He looked scandalised when you laughed.

 Within the week he had those biscuits ready for you. True to his word the bourbons had bourbon cream and the orefauxs (as he called them) had Baileys cream. Both were as black as the devil’s bottom.

 “I might need a new wardrobe soon if you keep this up,” you joked between mouthfuls.

 “Ah, I’ll just help you work it off. Or just buy you a new one.”

 The look you gave him might not have been as withering as you’d hoped, but he seemed to get the message.

 “I’ll try to bake you something healthier next time.”

 Something healthier meant a coal black loaf of bread.

 “It’s a black bread,” he said cheerily, “it’s got rye in it. Thought might as well go the whole hog and added some activated charcoal to make it as black as you like your coffee.”

 It was with a heavy sigh that you turned your eyes to him.

 “I can’t eat this.”

 His face did fall this time.

 “Oh. You allergic to rye? Or are you afraid I’ve slipped some marmite in?”

 “My marmite take is neither here nor there. The problem is that I’m on the pill and activated charcoal can make it not work.”

 “Oh, shit.”

 He looked so crestfallen that you felt even worse.

 “Sorry.”

 “No, no. It’s my fault. Shoulda considered that.”

 You tore off a chunk and slathered it with butter, just to see him light up a little.

 “Well, I guess half a loaf over a couple days can’t hurt too much.”

 His grin was blinding.

 “Ah, but what am I gonna do with all this spare activated charcoal? I cannae eat it all meself.”

 You gave him a grin of your own.

 “Could live up to your callsign and use it to make soap. Good for the skin and all that.”

 “Ah,” he said sagely. “So that’s why they kept showing me that melt and pour stuff. I was starting to think I’d have to assassinate Bezos for knowing too much. How’d he even find out?”

 You chuckle as you eat your chunk of bread.

 “It’s really good,” you mumbled, delight rendering you mannerless.

 Johnny puffed up with pride.

 “I’ll try a different colourant next time. Still got that squid ink, after all.”

 “How is recipe development, by the way?”

 “Can’t complain. I’ll have another plate for you in a couple o’ days.”

 “I look forward to it!”

 In the meantime you were working your way through the biscuits, cake and that half a loaf.

 The second round of ravioli was divine. Exactly what was different was a question, but if Johnny was going to continue to be a magician in the kitchen then he was allowed a few secrets.

 He joked that this was the way to your heart, and he wasn’t far wrong. There was something about a handsome and rugged man cooking for you that was so very seductive. So less ‘way to your heart’ and ‘way into your knickers’.

 His culinary adventures continued with a squid ink version of the bread (still delicious, barely tasted different) and so much chocolatey goodness.

 Despite previously thinking such things impossible, you liked chocolate as much as the next woman, it was getting more than a bit much.

 “Don’t worry. I’ll take a break on the old chocolate,” he reassured you over some jjajangmyeon. “I’ve got a few more ideas up my sleeve.”

 He bought you a pie.

 It was rectangular, but certainly a pie.

 “I thought you said you made buns?”

 “I did hen, a bun at least. This is a black bun, it’s traditional around Hogmanay.”

 When he cut it open you could see why it was called that.

 The filling was dark as a moonless night and chock full of dried fruit.

 Granted, you were a bit leery, but you gave it a shot and were pleasantly surprised.

 “This is good. Remind me to come ‘round yours for New Year’s.”

 “It’ll be an invitation, not a reminder, lass.”

 You grinned, even with currents stuck in your teeth.

 The next thing he bought you was fudge.

 You were more dubious about this one than the pie.

 “Why is it black?”

 “It’s liquorice flavoured. Me mam asked me to make some, thought I’d let you try it too.”

 Maybe you could deal with the dried fruit, but the liquorice was a bit much. All sorts were one thing, but this flavour and this texture? It was weird and gritty and didn’t go. No thank you.

 “Well, you win some you lose some,” he grinned, “they can’t all be winners.”

 The liquorice might not have been, but the black sesame seed mochi certainly was.

 “It’s good in a porridge too, they use rice starch to thicken it.”

 You raised an eyebrow at him.

 “Porridge without oats? Do your countrymen know you’re speaking such blasphemy?”

 “Aye, aye. Fair point. You keep this schtumm and I'll work on some fusion cuisine so they don’t burn me in Parliament square.”

 It took a few days, but the proper black sesame seed porridge was welcome. You’d been feeling a little under the weather lately.

 “So what do we call this? Scorean? Kortish?”

 “Please stop.”

 “You’re no fun.”

 Johnny pouted.

 “Oh right. Before I forget; what happened to that soap making? Or am I just not getting any?” It was your turn to pout.

 “Ah, I decided to go cold process. So it’ll be ready when I get back from deployment.”

 You nodded.

 “Do you want me to bring some down when I come pick you up so we can throw it at Simon? ‘Cause he’s gonna need it with that fucking mask he’s always wearing.”

 Johnny’s eyebrow’s rose.

 “I still don’t get why you hate it so much.”

 “I swear he’s making faces at me under that thing.”

 “Really?” He asked dubiously.

 “I just don’t like it. He gives me a weird vibe.”

 Johnny looked affronted.

 “Hey-“

 “Because of the mask. Hated it during the pandemic, too. I’d last three minutes in Japan in the winter.”

 “I’ll take you in the summer then,” he smiled softly, placated.

 You rolled your eyes affectionately.

 “I’ll hold you to that.”

 As ever, it was with a heavy heart that you saw him off the next day.

 He did leave you with some treats to tide you over. Another black bun, some biscuits (chocolate was back on the menu) and a box of lovely dark parkin. Altogether, it should last most of the time he was away.

 It didn’t.

 You stress ate most of it when you found out you were pregnant.

[scotianostra]

IT'S A PURE DEAD GIVE-AWAY THAT YOU'RE SCOTTISH IF :-

1. You consider scattered showers with outbreaks of sunshine 🌞 as good weather.

2. The only sausage you like is square.

3. You were forced to do Scottish country dancing 🕺🏻

every year at secondary school.

4. You have a wide vocabulary of Scottish words such as numpty, aye, aye right, auldyin, baltic...

5. You destroyed your teeth when you were young using Buchanan's toffee, Wham bars, Penny Dainties, MB Bars, Cola Cubes etc

6. You have an enormous feeling of dread whenever Scotland play a 'numpty' team like the Faroe Islands.

7. You happily engage in a conversation about the weather with someone you've never met before.

8. Even if you normally hate the Proclaimers, Runrig, Caledonia , Deacon Blue and Big Country, you still love it when you're in a club abroad and they play something Scottish.

9. You used to watch Glen Michael's Cavalcade on a Sunday afternoon with his side kick Lamp Paladin.

10. You got Oor Wullie and The Broons annuals at Xmas.

11. You can tell where another Scot is from by their accent - "Awright, pal, gonnae gies a wee swatch oa yur Sun ? Cheers, magic pal." Or "Fit ya bin up tae ? Fair few quines in the nicht, eh ?", etc

12. You see cops and hear someone shout 'Errapolis'.

13. You have participated in or watched people having a 'square go'.

14. You know that when someone asks you what school you went to they only want to know if you are catholic or protestant.

15. You have eaten lots and lots of random Scottish food like mince 'n tatties, Tunnock's Caramel Logs, oat cakes, haggis, Cullen skink, Lees Macaroon Bars, etc.

16. A jakey has asked you for money.

17. You think nothing of waiting expectantly for your 1p change from a shop keeper.

18. You know the right response to 'Ye dancing ?' is 'Y'askin?' followed by 'Ahm askin' and finally 'Then ahm dancin'. 💃

19. Whenever you see sawdust it reminds you of pools of vomit as that's what the jannies used to chuck on it at school.

20. You lose all respect for a groom 🤵 who doesn't wear a kilt.

21. You don't do 🛒 shopping ... you 'go the messages'.

22. You're sitting on the train 🚂 or bus and a 😵 drunk man sits next to you telling you a joke - and asking 'Ahm no annoying ye ahm a?' and you respond 'Naw, not at a', yer fine. This is ma stoap, but'. 🛑

23. You can have an entire phone 📞 conversation using only the words 'awright', 'aye' and 'naw'.

24. You have experienced peer pressure to have an alcoholic drink 🍷 when out - regardless of the circumstances.

25. You know that ye cannae fling yer pieces 🍞 oot a 20 storey flat, and that seven hundred hungry weans'll testify tae that. Furthermore you're sure that if it's butter, 🧀 cheese or jeely, or if the breid is plain or pan, the odds against it reaching earth are 99 tae wan.

26. You know that going to a party 🥳 at a friend's house involves bringing your own drink.

27. Your holiday abroad is ruined if you hear there is a heatwave in Scotland 🏴󠁧󠁢󠁳󠁣󠁴󠁿 while you're away.

28. Your national team goes 2-0 up again the Czechs in a qualifier in Prague and your mate says we'll end up losing 3-2 here and you think "Probably". ⚽️

29. You can properly pronounce McConnochie, Ecclefechan, Milngavie, and Auchtermuchty.

30. Your favourite pizza is deep fried and battered from the chippy.

31. You're used to 4 💨 ☔️ ☀️ ❄️ seasons in one day.

32. You can't pass a chip shop or kebab shop, without drooling, when your 🥴 drunk.

33. You can fall about 😵 drunk without spilling your drink.

34. You measure distance in minutes.

35. You can understand Rab C Nesbitt and know characters just like them in your own family.

36. You go to Saltcoats because you think it's like being at the ocean.

🌊

37. You can make a whole sentence out of just swear words.

38. You know what haggis is made with and still eat it.

39. Somebody you know used a football 🥅 schedule to plan their 💒 day date.

40. You've been at a 👰 🎩 wedding where the footie results were read out.

41. You aren't surprised to find curries, pizzas 🍕 kebabs, Irn Bru, nappies and fags all for sale in one shop.

42. Your seaside holiday home has Calor ⛽️ gas under it.

43. You know that Irn Bru is an infallible hangover 😵 cure.

44. You understand all the above and are going to send it to your pals.

45. and, finally, you are 100 per cent Scottish if you have ever used these terms - "How's it hingin'?", "clatty", "boggin", "cludgie", "dreich", "bampot", and "dubble nugget"..

😂🕺🏻🥳

[mikhailwrites]

Keep your Sergeant happy / Ghost x Soap

Kinktober #18 - Cooking (from the SFW prompt list, made a bit NSFW)

Soap stares. Shocked out of his wit, which is almost unheard of. A confused “You… cook?” is the only response he’s capable of.

“I do. Been told I’m rather good at it, too,” Ghost adds, as if it’s the most obvious thing in the world.

Two weeks. Soap and Ghost are holed up in a safe house in the middle of nowhere for two weeks, and the Sergeant is seriously starting to lose it. They don’t even know if they’re really in danger; all Price told them was, “There’s been a leak; lay low, don’t return to the base until you hear from me”. It’s just their luck they’ve been out on a deployment to Germany when it happened.

They’ve been living off canned food and stashed MREs for too long, and Soap’s had just enough. He looks into the cupboard for the umpteenth time as if he doesn’t know what he’ll find there. More cans. “Ah swear Ah will throw up if I have tae eat one more canned meat.” Johnny groans, going through the stash in hopes of finding something else.

Ghost hums in acknowledgement but doesn’t say anything encouraging or otherwise. Soap is sure his Lieutenant could live from berries and roots if it came to that. Or hunt a rabbit with his bare hands or something. He’s seen Ghost’s survival skills first-hand many times. Fuck, Soap would kill for a rabbit. Or a fish. Or anything other than a disgusting piece of pseudo-meat in the sleazy gravy. But there’s nothing else, and his stomach has been growling for over an hour.

By the third, slowly chewed bite, Soap is willing to call this shit worse than actual torture. Closing his eyes as he feeds himself another piece, Soap feels his face contort in a mixture of disgust and apprehension.

“You look like you’re about to die, Johnny,” Ghost says without a hint of emotion.

Soap sighs, putting the dreaded can away as he hopes the few bites would be enough to calm his stomach and give it at least an illusion of sustenance. “Might as well if I have to eat one more of these.”

Ghost chuckles, shaking his head slowly. “Any food is better than no food, trust me.”

Soap knows, truly, but that doesn’t mean he can’t bitch about it, does it?

“Tell you what, if you can manage two cans a day, I’ll cook something nice for you when we get back,” Ghost offers and… he sounds almost cheerful as he says it.

Soap stares. Shocked out of his wit, which is almost unheard of. A confused “You… cook?” is the only response he’s capable of.

“I do. Been told I’m rather good at it, too,” Ghost adds, as if it’s the most obvious thing in the world. Only the sly glint in his eyes betrays the truth that he enjoys teasing Soap.

“What… uh… okay? Alright.” Soap stutters and reluctantly takes the half-eaten can.

Ghost nods his approval. “That’s the spirit, Johnny. So… what’d you like? And I swear to God, if you say haggis, you’re not gonna live it down.”

“Why? Ye cannae do haggis?” Soap teases but quickly reconsiders as Ghost turns to him fully, casually flipping a knife. “Alright, alright! I dinnae even like haggis, ye British twat! Tikka masala fine with ye?”

“Butter chicken it is,” Ghost agrees, hiding the knife away.

The following week is a blur. They get back, Price briefs them, and then they have to catch up on the piles of work that, somehow, could wait up until then but couldn’t wait any longer. Johnny was looking forward to returning home, but now that he’s home, it’s not as happy a reunion as he hoped.

Soap is just finishing up for the day, tired, apathetic and irritable. For the first time ever, he’s seriously considering taking a few days' leave. Ghost’s voice stops him as he reaches the door. “Soap, meet me at the mess hall at 2300.”

It’s a weird request at best, and Soap blinks a few times before he turns around. The Lieutenant doesn’t spare him a glance, still typing away on his keyboard. Maybe Soap didn’t hear right? “Come again?”

“Mess hall, 2300, be there,” Ghost repeats without any further explanation.

Soap nods, too tired to bother. “Sure.”

As a matter of fact, he’s too tired to ponder on it. Ghost tells him to be somewhere, Soap does it, easy as that—no thinking required.

The moment he steps into the mess hall, five minutes to eleven, he realises what’s going on. The smell of masala, garlic and turmeric is enough to make his mouth water immediately. He remembers Ghost’s promise now.

Entering the kitchen, he sees Ghost dressed in his usual black attire, with a white apron. The balaclava is tucked up on his nose because, obviously, he needs to smell and taste the sauce. Nobody would ever believe Soap if he told them.

“You were actually serious,” Johnny says as he leans against the counter, watching in astonishment as Ghost prepares the meal. No, not Ghost, it’s Simon now. And Simon’s moves in the kitchen are just as steady and well-practised Ghost’s on the battlefield.

Simon chuckles, stirring the sauce. “I was. Now, hand me the plates.”

Soap does, feeling a bit nostalgic. He used to help his maw in the kitchen when he was but a wee kid. He watches Simon fill the plates with rice, pouring a generous amount of sauce over it and adding a healthy amount of chicken on top. “Here you go, one chicken tikka masala.”

They sit at the table; it’s a bit weird being the only two people there, but Soap doesn’t mind. This feels nice. Unsure of what to expect, he scoops some rice with his fork, adding the sauce to it, before he tenderly tastes it.

“Holy shit,” Soap utters in disbelief, staring first into his plate, then at Simon, who looks very pleased with himself as he eats his own portion. “This is so good!”

“Thank you,” Simon smirks. “Told you I can cook.”

It’s true, but for some reason, Johnny really thought he was joking. Ghost. Cooking. And acing it, as he aces pretty much anything he does. On a closer inspection, it shouldn’t surprise him. Soap opts for not saying anything and just enjoying the amazing treat. When he tastes the chicken that was probably soaking in the marinating sauce for some time, he moans obscenely. The food is honestly much better than it has any right to be. So good, in fact, that it strips Soap of his brain-to-mouth filter. “If you’re at least half as good a lay as you are a cook, I wanna marry ye.”

Simon pauses, fork with another bite lifted halfway. His eyes are wide with surprise.

“Oh fuck…,” Soap breathes out as he realises not only what did he just say but to whom.

Simon smiles, one of his slightly scary, feral smiles. “Technically, this could count as a dinner.”

Soap is fighting the overwhelming mixture of confusion and panic. He has no clue what’s going on, but Simon doesn’t seem offended, which is good. In fact, he looks… intrigued. Okay, Soap can work with that. “You think me some easy lad, letting you have your way with me after just one dinner?”

“It’s a damn good dinner,” Simon shrugs. He watches Soap intently, and the intent is dark and hungry.

Johnny slides his foot under the table until it nudges against Simon’s. It’s a safe touch, nothing overt or inappropriate. “Aye, it is. Makes me want to ask about the dessert.”

Simon’s foot nudges him right back with more strength, forcing Soap to spread his legs a little. Bleedin’ Jesus, is this really happening? “I might have something… back in my room.”

Soap finishes his plate in a record time, feeling genuinely sorry because it was definitely good enough to savour. Maybe he could convince Ghost to cook for him again. He’s determined to try.

It’s a small miracle they make it to Ghost’s room without any incidents. The moment the doors close, however, Simon is already yanking the balaclava off, mashing their mouths together as he wrestles with Soap’s clothes.

Johnny helps with that and then promptly returns the favour, eager to touch every inch of exposed skin, to kiss and taste everything Simon offers. And he offers plenty. They kiss, and they rut against each other, desperately trying to relieve some of the tension. However, it’s not that easy because it has been building up for months. The banter, the flirting, the seemingly innocent touches. It all culminates right here, at this moment.

Johnny has no idea when exactly their dynamic shifts, but at one moment, Simon is kissing him, licking his way into Johnny’s mouth, and the next, it’s Johnny, pressing on, forcing Simon to take a step back, then another, until they get to the bed. He’s never imagined Ghost as anything other than pushy top, but it seems that he was wrong. Still, he needs to clarify. “You want me to…?”

“Yeah, Johnny, fuck me,” Simon says, almost painfully blunt but perfectly clear. Johnny pauses to take a deep breath.

“It’d be my absolute pleasure, Simon,” Johnny grins, pushing Ghost back, causing him to fall on the bed. Ghost could immediately turn the tables if he felt so inclined, and it turns Soap on. He gets Ghost to cook for him, he gets him to be manhandled, and he gets to fuck him. He might just be the luckiest lad in the whole fucking world.

It’s good, so good. Simon is far from passive; he wants Johnny, and what Simon wants, Simon gets. Slowing down and speeding up again, changing the angle ever so slightly, they work together in nearly perfect sync to prolong their pleasure. Despite their best efforts, it cannot last.

Johnny is the first to succumb, gasping, only barely managing to keep reasonably quiet as the sweet respite takes him. Simon is close behind, grunting and arching his back as he grinds against Soap.

They lay on the bed, side by side, sticky and messy, yet unable to do anything about it for the moment.

“I’m doomed. You are as good a fuck as you are a cook,” Johnny laughs, quiet and light, tracing invisible patterns on Simon’s skin.

“I’m not marrying you, Johnny,” Simon retorts in a tone just as light.

“You say that now, but wait until the second date.”

[killercooksblog]

I was gonna ask "hey, why a cooking tiktok?" Y'know, like, all the things someone tall, blonde, and beautiful could do, and cooking tiktok was the choice - which is cool, but still.

But then - and my brain switches tracks so fast - I remembered my dad just got a smoker, and so I was thinking about the cannabutter episode and I got to thinking.

>.>

Could you canna-smoke something? Like, salmon or ham or somethin'?

Hey Quin, Killer here👋

Thanks for being the first person to send in an ask! Why cooking? Because I saw others with food insecurity and decided, no more. All it took was one, skinny twerp of a brat to open my heart and my kitchen.

I appreciate the cooking question ~ I can't see why not, although I've never tried it myself. Since MaryJane is fat soluble, its recommened to cook it with butter, peanut butter, etc. I can definitely see adding special herb butter to meats, or hell even directly seasoned on top of the meat, so long as it can heat and cook in fatty oil deposits.

We don't have a smoker, yet...something to consider perhaps...

Hope you have a great day and that you slay the weekend🔪

[prowrestlingindustrialcomplex]

Punk: I replaced Drew’s "I can't believe it's not butter" with real butter.

*Cutaway to Drew spreading butter on toast then taking a bite*

Drew: But—But..I—I...I—I cannae believe—…what..yeh...uh—

*Cutaway to Drew in a mental ward screaming and being held down by doctors and male nurses—he’s a big man*

Sheamus: I don't know, doc. Lookin’ back, I think it may have been real butter.

Doctor: Your friend murdered 3 people and decapitated them with a claymore sword.

[thegreatlearning]

Second consecutive day of basically just sleeping because of that fucking crazy canna butter I had night before last

[egipci]

Hi Em!!!! Happy Dadfucker Friday <3

There’s a very popular picture in the John/Dean community of a guy with a dirty boot print on his chest. Can you tell us a little bit about how that boot print got there? (Eg. was it consensual? Was it a punishment? Was it a sex thing? Did Dean ask for it? etc.) Thank you!!! <3

Cannabutter

What happened was, the first time, they were somewhere in rural Colorado, like near the mountains, and Dad had been gone for a couple of weeks on a case, and there was a girl. This girl, let’s call her Maggie, she was over one night in the little townhouse where they were staying, and she’d brought these brownies with her. And the brownies were really good, like objectively very fucking good brownies, fudgy at the center, etc., and Dean was hungry, had been eating mac and cheese everyday for a week straight, or you know, like feeling snacky or whatever, and he was seventeen, plus the girl was hot, and they were sitting cross-legged on the floor in front of the couch and he had sort of a lot of brownies. Like, half a sheet of those things. So good were these brownies he was like, “Yo, these brownies are so good. What’s in these brownies?” and it was all the usual stuff, of course, eggs, cocoa, sugar, etc. but you had to use brown sugar, that was the key. “You get the brown sugar,” she said, “and then you whisk in the cannabutter,” and he said, “A canna what?” And she said, “The cannabutter,” and he said, “Oh,” and as he said that he felt it, his heart banging against his ribs and face warming up, a shiver between his shoulder blades. And she was like, one of those hippy chicks with hippy parents and she and her parents smoked pot together or whatever, like they grew it themselves and made butter and tea and whatnot. And he said, “Oh, cool, my dad and I are really close too. He’s coming back soon,” except he couldn’t be sure if he’d actually said any of that or if he’d only thought it, and he must have been freaking out a little because she put her hand on his arm all fucking solicitous and asked, “Are you okay?” and of course he said yes, because she was hot, plus the roofies had felt different. And when he smiled at her she kissed him and pushed him to his back and got on top of him, put her hands under his shirt. And that was nice for a while, making out and her kissing up on his neck and pulling his shirt off.

Then: the sound of the car, and the girl whispering conspiratorially, “Is that your dad?” And at that point he was shaking and trying not to shake and he said, very seriously, “You have to go now,” like a freaking chick from a movie where the dad chases away all the boyfriends. And then he was vaguely aware of her getting up and putting on her shoes and saying something to Dad on the way out, and Dean thought if he got up he might throw up or something and Dad would find out how fucked up he was. So he just stayed there very still on the floor in front of the couch. Pretending to be asleep so that when Dad saw him he’d just leave him there. And Dad was moving around, taking off his jacket and washing his hands, etc., and Dean could feel him coming closer, to kill him or something probably, his boots making the floorboards creak, until he stood right there over Dean, and then he bent down with a grunt and stood up again, his knees cracking twice. And of course, because it was Dad and he’d been away so long, Dean opened his eyes and looked up, overjoyed to see him, having missed him so much, and Dad held the ziplock with the rest of those brownies up to his face, and he said, “Oh, man,” and just his voice made heat flash everywhere, sent Dean white-hot like a magnesium flare. “Dad,” he said, and Dad said, “Come on, dude. Get up.” And Dean said, “Dad. Dad, I’m so high,” and saying more than three words sent him laughing hysterically that something popped in his neck, or almost, and Dad toed his shoulder, said, “Get to bed,” except even then he didn’t sound super serious, like if Dean could see his face he would find him smiling, because he can tell things like that just by hearing Dad’s voice. And then, out of nowhere, Dad just put his foot right over Dean’s chest, almost straight across, but diagonal a little, with his boot still on, and like, shook him, like you would put your hand on someone’s shoulder and then rattle them a little. And the ridges on the sole were hard and wet from the dewy soil outside, but Dean’s hand latched around Dad’s ankle, over the boot, and then up around his skinny shin under the leg of his jeans, and Dad let him, just pressed his foot down hard. Not hard enough that Dean couldn’t breathe but there, good, like when he’d hold Dean down with his hands on his chest or his back, except even better because he was high as shit and the tip of Dad’s toe was grinding against his nipple, painful almost, but he could feel it everywhere, like this current to his balls, but it wasn’t just that, it was that it was Dad standing there over him, holding him down, watching him, and he made this embarrassing sound, whiny, so humiliating he couldn’t even do anything about it except call out for Dad again, and Dad said, “You’re good,” and his voice was so low it made Dean shiver, because he liked watching Dean and he was watching him now, even spread out pathetic on the floor Dad liked watching him, wanted to watch him even like this, even as he held onto Dad’s leg with one hand and unbuttoned his jeans with the other and pulled his dick out and his balls over the elastic of his boxers and came so hard in twelve seconds flat, even then Dad liked him. 

[fatguarddog]

I once hung out with some friends and we made a canna infused dinner of butter braised chicken and pasta. And after dinner and before the edibles hit, we all went to the grocery store and bought like a lot of food. Like A LOT OF FOOD. Pizza, cookies, cakes, pies, chips, dips, ice cream, we even bought a veggie platter #eatyourgreens ✌🏽And we went back to the house and just stuffed, smoked weed, and watched movies for like hours, dude. Like my friends ate a good amount but like I obviously ate the most out of all four of us and for the longest. I finished everything. That day I learned I was made to stuff my cute fat face. 🥴💕

Oh damn that sound absolutely dreamy, just having such a spread in front of you and being so blissfully stoned and comfy just able to grab whatever you want to eat for hours and hours... uggh I bet you felt amazing 🤤

[nug-nymphxo]

I wanna make cheesy garlic bread, but the only butter I have available is canna butter…I’ll update 😅

[swuid]

Tried making canna butter again this time I put the thing in the oven hopefully I didn’t fuck it up this time ^_^

[beyondsmokeshops]

This time of year can be truly joyous, but also truly stressful. Chores, errands, events, entertaining - there’s so much to do, it’s enough to overwhelm even the merriest of holiday merrymakers. Think of all those pesky relatives and shopping crowds to overcome. After all that, who wants to cook? Cooking for the holidays is no small feat - fortunately, in this as in so many things, cannabis can help. Make sure to have a little toke first as you whip up one of the recipes on our list.

A few brief notes for stoner chefs: edibles are a different ballgame, even for experienced smokers. Prepare your dishes with care and make sure you are aware of the potency and dosage per serving. Never give cannabis-infused food to someone without their knowledge and consent, and keep away from children and pets. If you are looking for a device to make your own cannabis-infused butter (aka cannabutter), the professionals at your local Beyond Smoke shop will be happy to assist you. Now relax and enjoy! Happy holidays from all of us at Beyond Smoke.

Cannabis Glazed Ham

Ingredients:

1/8 cup whole cloves

2/3 cup brown sugar

1 cup apple cider

½ cup orange juice

¼ cup cannabis-infused oil

¼ cup Dijon mustard

1 teaspoon cinnamon

¼ teaspoon ground cloves

Pinch salt

Smoked cured ham, 8-12 lbs

Heat oven to 300 degrees.

1. Place the ham on your work surface. Stud the ham with the whole cloves.

2. In a medium saucepan combine the brown sugar, canna-oil, apple cider, mustard, cinnamon, cloves and salt. Allow to reach a slow simmer, stirring frequently. The longer you cook the glaze the thicker it will. Allow the mixture to cool for at least 30 minutes.

3. Liberally brush the ham with the glaze. Bake for 1-2 hours, basting frequently. Allow to stand for about 20 minutes before slicing.

Cannabis-Infused Roast Turkey with Herb Gravy

Ingredients:

FOR THE TURKEY:

1 whole turkey (about 12-14 pounds), thawed and patted dry

1/4 cup cannabis-infused olive oil

4 cloves garlic, minced

1 lemon, halved

2 onions, quartered

1 bunch fresh rosemary

1 bunch fresh thyme

Salt and pepper, to taste

FOR THE HERB GRAVY:

Drippings from the roasted turkey

2 tablespoons all-purpose flour

2 cups chicken broth

2 tablespoons cannabis-infused olive oil

Salt and pepper, to taste

Instructions:

Marinating the Turkey:

Prepare the Marinade: In a small bowl, mix the cannabis-infused olive oil with minced garlic, salt, and pepper.

Marinate the Turkey: Rub the cannabis-infused oil mixture both inside and outside of the turkey. Place some rosemary, thyme, lemon halves, and quartered onions inside the cavity of the turkey.

Refrigerate: Let the turkey marinate in the refrigerator for at least 4 hours, or overnight for better infusion.

Roasting the Turkey:

Preheat the Oven: Preheat your oven to 325°F (165°C).

Prepare for Roasting: Remove the turkey from the refrigerator and let it come to room temperature. Place it on a roasting rack in a roasting pan.

Roast: Place the turkey in the preheated oven. The general rule for cooking a turkey is about 13 minutes per pound. So, a 14-pound turkey would take about 3 hours to cook.

Baste: Baste the turkey every 30-45 minutes with the pan juices.

Check for Doneness: The turkey is done when an instant-read thermometer inserted into the thickest part of the thigh reads 165°F (75°C).

Rest Before Carving: Once done, remove the turkey from the oven and let it rest for at least 20 minutes before carving. This allows the juices to redistribute.

Making the Herb Gravy:

Collect the Drippings: Pour the drippings from the roasting pan into a bowl, leaving the browned bits in the pan.

Make a Roux: Place the roasting pan on the stove over medium heat. Add the cannabis-infused olive oil and flour to the pan, whisking to combine with the browned bits.

Add Liquids: Gradually add the chicken broth, continuing to whisk. Bring to a simmer.

Simmer: Cook the gravy until it thickens to your liking, usually about 10 minutes.

Season: Season with salt and pepper. Strain the gravy to remove any lumps, if desired.

Serving:

Serve the Turkey: Carve the turkey and serve it with the warm herb gravy.

Cannabis-Infused Green Bean Casserole

Ingredients:

Two nine ounce packages frozen cut green beans, thawed (you can also use canned and drained green beans)

Eight slices bacon

10 chopped cremini mushrooms

1/2 teaspoon garlic powder

1/2 teaspoon onion powder

One 10.75 oz can condensed cream of mushroom soup

1/2 cup shredded cheddar cheese

¾ cup of crispy fried onions

¼ cup melted cannabutter

Salt and pepper to taste

Instructions:

Preheat the oven to 350 degrees F and place the green beans into a casserole dish.

Fry the bacon until brown and crispy, remove from the skillet and drain most of the grease from the pan, leaving just enough grease to cook the mushrooms.

Saute mushrooms until tender and season with garlic and onion powder.

Pour in mushroom soup and bring the mixture to a light boil.

Pour the mixture over the green beans.

Crumble the bacon on top and sprinkle in the cheddar cheese.

Cover with the fried onions then brush with melted cannabutter.

Season with salt and pepper, then bake for 20 minutes until the sauce is bubbling.

Serve and enjoy!

Cannabis-Infused Mashed Potatoes

Ingredients:

5 pounds Yukon Gold potatoes, (cooked, mashed)

2 (3 ounce) packages cream cheese

¼ cup cannabutter*

¼ cup regular butter

1/2 cup sour cream

1/4 cup milk

1 1/2 teaspoons garlic powder

1 tsp fresh rosemary, chopped (optional)

Ground white pepper to taste

Directions:

Place potatoes in a large pot of lightly salted water. Bring to a boil, and cook until tender, about 15-20 minutes. Drain, and mash.

While potatoes are still warm, in a large bowl, combine mashed potatoes, cannabutter, milk, butter, cream cheese, sour cream, garlic powder, and pepper. Sprinkle fresh rosemary on top. Serve and enjoy!

Cannabis-Infused Pumpkin Pie

Yield: One 9-inch pie

4 grams cannabis flower

2 14-oz cans sweetened condensed milk, divided

1 large egg

1 large egg yolk

1 tsp kosher salt

¼ cup heavy cream

1 15-oz can unsweetened pumpkin purée

2 tsp pumpkin pie spice

1 pie crust, store-bought

whipped cream, for serving

| Preparation – Cannabis | To prepare the cannabis, preheat oven to 200˚F. Grind your flower up finely. Place on cookie sheet lined with parchment paper. Place in oven for 70 minutes. Remove, and let cool completely. Add decarboxylated cannabis into the top of a double boiler with 1 can of sweetened condensed milk. Bring to 220˚F, and keep at that temperature. Cook for 45 minutes to infuse, stirring every 5 minutes. Add about ½ cup of sweetened condensed milk, or more as needed, to replace what has evaporated. Strain through cheesecloth into a separate container. To strain, secure the cheesecloth around a heat-safe cup with a rubber band or tape, so you can properly push and strain liquid. Thoroughly squeeze through. Be sure to wear disposable gloves, as it gets sticky. Let cool.

Preparation – Pumpkin Pie | Preheat oven to 375˚F. Whisk infused milk, pumpkin purée, egg, 1 egg yolk, heavy cream, kosher salt and pumpkin pie spice in a medium bowl. Place chilled dough on a generously floured surface, and (if needed) roll out to an 11-inch circle, adding more flour to your rolling pin as needed. Carefully roll dough onto the rolling pin, then unroll over a 9-inch pie dish.

Press dough evenly into the bottom and sides of the dish. Trim any excess dough and form around edges. Fill pie crust, and distribute the pie filling evenly. Lightly tap the pan to settle the filling. Bake for 20 minutes or until crust is brown and filling is set. Let cool, and top with whipped cream.

| To Serve | Serve chilled or at room temperature. Cut pie into 10 equal slices.

Cannabis Cream Cheese Sugar Cookies

Equipment

mixer

mixing bowl

parchment paper

cookie sheet

measuring cups and spoons

Ingredients

3 cups all purpose flour

1 1/2 tsp baking powder

1/2 tsp salt

1 cup cannabis

2 oz cream cheese softened to room temp

1 cup granulated sugar

1 large egg

2 tsp pure vanilla extract

1/2 tsp almond extract

Cream Cheese Frosting

4 oz cream cheese softened to (room temp)

1/4 cup unsalted cannabutter (room temp)

2 cups confectioners sugar

1/2 cup sprinkles

Instructions

Whisk the flour, baking powder, and salt together until combined. Set aside.

In a large bowl using a hand-held or stand mixer fitted with a paddle attachment, beat the cannabutter and cream cheese together for 2 minutes on high speed until completely smooth and creamy. Add the granulated sugar and beat on medium high speed until fluffy and light in color. Beat in the egg, vanilla, and almond extract on high speed..

On low speed, slowly mix the dry ingredients into the wet ingredients until combined. The cookie dough will be thick. Cover dough tightly with aluminum foil or plastic wrap and chill for 1 hour.

Remove cookie dough from the refrigerator. If the cookie dough chilled longer than 3-4 hours, let it sit at room temperature for about 20 minutes.

Preheat oven to 350°F (177°C). Line two large baking sheets with parchment paper

Pour the 1/2 cup of granulated sugar into a bowl.Scoop and roll balls of dough, about 1.5 Tablespoons of dough each. Roll each ball into granulated sugar then place on the baking sheets about 3 inches apart. Using the back of measuring cup or drinking glass, gently press down on each .

Bake the cookies for 13-15 minutes, or until very lightly browned on the edges. Let cool cmpletely before frosting.

FROSTING

In a medium bowl using a hand-held mixer or stand mixer fitted with a whisk attachment, beat the cream cheese and cannabutter together on medium-high speed until creamy and no lumps remain, about 2 minutes. Add the confectioners’ sugar and vanilla extract. Beat on low speed for 20 seconds then increase to high speed until everything is completely combined and the frosting is creamy. Taste. Add a pinch of salt if frosting is too sweet. Spread on each cooled cookie, then decorate with sprinkles.

Hot Cannabutter Rum Cider

Ingredients:

24 ounces spiced apple or pear juice

4 teaspoons cannabutter, softened

1⁄4 cup heavy whipping cream

1⁄2 teaspoon powdered sugar

8 ounces dark rum

1⁄4 teaspoon cloves

4 cinnamon sticks

In a small saucepan, bring rum and cloves to a slow rolling boil for about 10 minutes.

While boiling off the alcohol, create “cannabutter cream” by whisking together cannabutter, heavy cream and powdered sugar. Set aside.

Strain the rum into a clean pot, add the cider and heat for a few minutes more. Pour the hot rum cider into 4 mugs and top each drink with 2 teaspoons of cannabutter cream. Garnish drinks with a cinnamon stick and serve immediately. Makes 4 servings.

Resources:

https://www.finefettle.com/blog/top-holiday-cannabis-recipes/

https://mogreenway.com/2023/11/22/infused-kitchen-cannabis-infused-roast-turkey-with-herb-gravy/

https://www.leafly.com/news/lifestyle/recipe-cannabis-infused-mashed-potatoes

https://www.feastmagazine.com/recipes/desserts/cannabis-infused-pumpkin-pie-recipe/article_c0ce0b24-3de1-11ee-8910-537997b8ccff.html

https://cannadish.net/top-10-favorite-cannabis-christmas-recipes/

https://www.stackmagazines.com/literature/cannabis-recipes-kitchen-toke-christmas/

https://cannabisnow.com/baked-canna-glazed-ham/

[allcircuitsarebusy]

manz finally came thru with carts today after being out for a week, and my bestie and i are having dinner & movie night !! we are making steak, mashed potatoes, and asparagus (with canna butter) yummm. what a good start to the weekend <3

[virgopropaganda]

I’m smoking 84% thc carts and I’m not getting high at all I ordered a dry herb vaporizer and hopefully it helps cause the canna butter I made is really weak