#frosted tortilla

[mirrorcatcreditcard]

Scrolling "characters that aren't popular" tags is tiring because 90% of the content is either about a different character with the same name, tagged with them because they're mentioned once/were in the image/due to associate, or has three posts and you're in most of the posts 😭

Heavens forbid they're mischaracterized or sexualized to hell and back.

[shikai-the-storyteller]

Anyways in other news, I wish I still had my old concha recipe. My current concha recipe slaps (I feel a bit bad for bastardizing the family recipe but it IS more to my taste now) but I still cannot get the frosting to be just the way I like it. It's frustrating.

[nishiyudai]

Spicy Green Tomato Salsa Use your green tomatoes to make a fiery salsa that has plenty of heat from serrano and jalapeno chiles. 1 red bell pepper cut into chunks, 1 cup chopped fresh cilantro, 1 tablespoon apple cider vinegar, 2 onions chopped, 6 limes juiced divided, 3 tablespoons minced garlic, 1/4 cup raw sugar, 1 tablespoon cayenne pepper, 12.5 cups chopped green tomatoes, 2.5 tablespoons chopped fresh oregano, 4 serrano peppers sliced into 1/2-inch-thick rings, 4 jalapeno peppers sliced into 1/2-inch-thick rings

[literaryvein-reblogs]

Writing Reference: Food History

B.C.

10,000 - almonds, cherries, bread, flour, soup

8,000 - wheat ⚜ 7,000 - wine, beer, pistachios, pig, goat, sheep, lard

6,500 - cattle domestication, apples ⚜ 6,000 - tortilla, dates, maize

5,000 - honey, ginger, quinoa, avocados, potatoes, milk, yogurt

4,000 - focaccia, watermelons, grapes, pomegranates

3,200 - chicken domestication ⚜ 3,000 - butter, onion, garlic, apricots

2,737 - tea ⚜ 2,500 - olive oil, seaweed, duck ⚜ 2,300 - saffron

2,000 - peaches, liquorice, marshmallow, pasta, ham, sesame seeds

1,500 - chocolate, vanilla ⚜ 1,200 - sugar ⚜ 1,000 - mangoes, oats, pickles

900 - pears, tomatoes ⚜ 700 - cinnamon ⚜ 600 - bananas, poppy seeds

500 - artichokes ⚜ 400 - pastries, appetizers, vinegar

300 - parsley ⚜ 200 - turkeys, asparagus, rhubarb ⚜ 65 - quince

1st—13th Century

1st Century - chestnuts, lobster, crab, shrimp, truffles, blueberries, raspberries, capers, kale, blood (as food), fried chicken, foie gras, French toast, omelettes, rice pudding, flan, cheesecake, pears in syrup

3rd Century - lemons ⚜ 5th - pretzels ⚜ 6th - eggplant

7th Century - spinach, kimchi ⚜ 9th - coffee, nutmeg

10th Century - flower waters, Peking duck, shark's fin soup

11th Century - baklava, corned beef, cider, lychees, seitan

12th Century - breadfruit, artichokes, gooseberries

13th Century - ravioli, lasagne, mozzarella, pancakes, waffles, couscous

14th—19th Century

14th Century - kebabs, moon cakes, guacamole, pie, apple pie, crumpets, gingerbread

15th Century - coconuts, Japanese sushi and sashimi, pineapples, marmalade, risotto, marzipan, doughnuts, hot dogs

16th Century - pecans, cashews (in India), Japanese tempura, vanilla (in Europe), fruit leather, skim milk, sweetbreads, salsa, quiche, teriyaki chicken, English trifle, potato salad

17th Century - treacle, pralines, coffee cake, modern ice cream, maple sugar, rum, French onion soup, cream puffs, bagels, pumpkin pie, lemonade, croissants, lemon meringue pie

18th Century - root beer, tapioca, French fries, ketchup, casseroles, mayonnaise, eggnog, soda water, lollipops, sangria, muffins, crackers, chowder, croquettes, cupcakes, sandwiches, apple butter, souffle, deviled eggs

19th Century - toffee, butterscotch, cocoa, Turkish delight, iodized salt, vanilla extract, modern marshmallows, potato chips, fish and chips, breakfast cereal, Tabasco sauce, Kobe beef, margarine, unsalted butter, Graham crackers, fondant, passionfruit, saltwater taffy, milkshakes, pizza, peanut butter, tea bags, cotton candy, jelly beans, candy corn, elbow macaroni, fondue, wedding cake, canapes, gumbo, ginger ale, carrot cake, bouillabaisse, cobbler, peanut brittle, pesto, baked Alaska, iced tea, fruit salad, fudge, eggs Benedict, Waldorf salad

20th Century

1901 - peanut butter and jelly ⚜ 1904 - banana splits ⚜ 1905 - NY pizza

1906 - brownies, onion rings ⚜ 1907 - aioli

1908 - Steak Diane, buttercream frosting ⚜ 1909 - shrimp cocktail

1910 - Jell-O (America's most famous dessert)

1910s - orange juice ⚜ 1912 - Oreos, maraschino cherries, fortune cookies

1912 - Chicken a la King, Thousand Island dressing

1914 - Fettuccine Alfredo ⚜ 1915 - hush puppies

1917 - marshmallow fluff ⚜ 1921 - Wonder Bread, zucchini

1919 - chocolate truffles ⚜ 1922 - Vegemite, Girl Scout cookies

1923 - popsicles ⚜ 1924 - frozen foods, pineapple upside-down cake, Caesar salad, chocolate-covered potato chips

1927 - Kool-Aid, s'mores, mayonnaise cake ⚜ 1929 - Twizzlers

1930s - Pavlova cakes, Philly cheese steak, Pigs in blankets, margaritas, banana bread, Cajun fried turkey ⚜ 1931 - souffle, refrigerator pie

1933 - chocolate covered pretzels ⚜ 1936 - no-bake cookies

1937 - Reubens, chicken Kiev, SPAM, Krispy Kreme

1938 - chicken and waffles ⚜ 1939 - seedless watermelon

1941 - Rice Krispies treats, Monte Cristo sandwiches ⚜ 1943 - nachos

1946 - chicken burgers, tuna melts, Nutella ⚜ 1947- chiffon cake

1950s - chicken parm, Irish coffee, cappuccino, smoothies, frozen pizza, diet soda, TV Dinners, ranch dressing ⚜ 1951 - bananas foster

1953 - coronation chicken ⚜ 1956 - German chocolate cake, panini

1957 - Quebec Poutine ⚜ 1958 - Instant ramen noodles, crab rangoon, lemon bars ⚜ 1960s - beef Wellington, green eggs and ham, red velvet cake

1963 - black forest cake ⚜ 1964 - Belgian waffles, Pop Tarts, Buffalo wings, ants on a log, pita bread ⚜ 1965 - Gatorade, Slurpees

1966 - chocolate fondue ⚜ 1967 - high fructose corn syrup

1970s - California rolls, pasta primavera, tiramisu ⚜ 1971 - fajitas

1975 - hicken tikka masala ⚜ 1980 - turducken

1980s - Panko, portobello mushrooms, bubble tea, chicken nuggets, Sriracha, Red Bull energy drink, everything bagels

1990s - artisan breads, Jamaican jerk ⚜ 1991 - turkey bacon, chocolate molten lava cake, earthquake cake ⚜ 1993 - broccolini

1995 - Tofurkey ⚜ 1997 - grape tomatoes

21st Century

2002 - flat iron steak, tear-free onions ⚜ 2007 - Kool-Aid pickles, cake pops

2008 - Mexican funnel cake ⚜ 2013 - cronuts, test tube burgers

Source ⚜ Writing Notes & References

[k-marzolf]

fic idea—you live with Billy and one night he hears screaming/rustling/heavy breathing from your room. thinking there’s an intruder or some kind of danger, he breaks in but you’re having a nightmare. and then comfort.

love love LOVE your work btw! no worries if you’re busy 💗

Hi, Nonnie! I’m sorry it took a bit to respond, but I actually really like how this came out. I don’t know if you wanted roommate or established relationship. But I went with roommates and Billy is fresh outta the marines. Thank you for this request, I really enjoyed it,p!

@e-dubbc11 @terry2227 @kayhi808 @bookloverfilmoholic @milea @zz-kennedy @briannareneea985 @thejanecampaign @fireeyes-on-teller-dixon-grimes @firexfate @firequeensposts @danzer8705 @ittybxttykxttytxtty @tortilla-chips-and-allioli @cant-help-simping @aoi-targaryen @snowkestrel @idaofinfinity @oops89 @littleblackcatinwonderland

Clementines.

581 words.

Billy dug through the pantry at two in the morning, sweats around his hips loosely, his hoodie smelling like your perfume. You always stole it, claiming it was just warm. He always got like this at night, always wanting to snack, especially on something sweet.

He opened the fridge to get the bowl of frosting you had made for cake, but you wouldn’t notice that he’d used some for his graham crackers he thought, like a child stealing sweets from a parent.

In this case his roommate.

He groaned as he stuck it in his mouth. In the marines he was never allowed this, all he had were shitty premade meals.

He dipped it again, relishing in your talent for making him grow fat with your cooking, and stopped halfway, swearing he heard something, his time in the marines made him hyper vigilant. And then he heard it again, you were crying, sounding like you couldn’t breathe. He set the bowl and crackers down and moved toward your bedroom.

He wasn’t good at comfort, he wasn’t emotional, and it made him uncomfortable. The boy in him wasn’t comforted, how could he extend it without having received it? But he understood nightmares, and sometimes he’d wished someone had comforted him.

He saw you lying on the bed as he opened the door, you were crying, the white lights of your skinny “Charlie Brown’ Dollar Store Christmas tree illuminating your tear stricken face.

Snow was picking up outside as he climbed in next to you as you heaved. “Can’t breathe.” Your body wracked with shivers.

“Don’t let him do that to you. Don’t let him win.” Billy said roughly, gripping your hip and pulling you closer. You smelled like clementines, like summer.

Your eyes fluttered, clutching Billy’s hoodie. “Can I come closer?” You asked, breathlessly.

Billy wiped your tears away tenderly, “Yeah, mouse.” He husked.

And so you did, pressing yourself into his side. “I dreamt of my uncle.”

Billy watched the snow fall, it seemed Jack Frost had visited early, “I know.”

You shivered, tangling your legs with his, pressing a kiss to his throat. “I thought I was gonna die. But then I heard your voice.”

“I gotta ka-bar with his name on it.” Billy said hotly into your hair.

“He’s a drunkard. He’s not worth it. He’s an old man who never dealt with his childhood. He’s hurting, too.” You said, quietly. He would never understand your compassion for those who’d hurt you.

“I don’t give a fuck, he hurt you so he’s on my shit list.” He shivered as your cold fingers slid up his hoodie, fingers playing with the hair there at his belly button.

“Oh, Billy. You’re trying.” You said, pressing your fingers harder into his skin.

He didn’t know what to say to comfort you. “I like your hair, it shines in your Christmas lights.” He mumbled, pressing his chin to your head.

You laughed understandingly, and said; “I like the frosting on your hoodie.

He huffed, heart skipping a beat. The wind beat against the window, and he took his finger and wiped the frosting off and pressed his finger to your lips.

Your mouth parting, tasting the sweetness of the sugar, and the bitterness of his finger. His eyes looked pitch black watching you, the way the curve of your breasts pressed against him.

“Good girl.” He husked, watching you.

And the feeling of warmth and safety soon replaced the fear of a monster.

[atinylittlepain]

Maybe, probably, definitely

college!steve harrington x f!oc

A continuation of Warm. Steve and Andy are keeping things casual... or maybe not.

18+ 90s au in which I fuck with the timeline, smut, two scrungly idiots in love, Robin and Eddie being Robin and Eddie, generally a fun little silly little time okay? okay.

.................................................

“Nah, I don’t think so.”

“Please, it’s so obvious.”

“I just think it’s unlikely, is all. He had like, women losing their minds over him, still does.”

“Okay, and? Have you seen the videos of him and Clarence kissing?” Easy, easy, and warm in her little corner kitchen, something steaming and savory stirring in the pot on the stove, her hip bumping against his every time she steps away and back to add a pinch or a glug of something else to the soup, making his cheeks round and pinken every time she slides half a smile his way. He laughs, shakes his head, and she pulls a face at him, pointing her wooden spoon at his chest.

“What’s so unbelievable about Bruce being bisexual?” 

“Nothing, nothing, I just don’t think there’s enough evidence for or against your theory yet.”

“So you’re a Springsteen agnostic?” Two bowls and two spoons and one bowl and one spoon is for him, and how lovely, how lovely to have a place here with her, slipping into her spot in front of the stove to serve them both while she slices a few pieces of bread.

“Gonna have to see a little more evidence, honey.”

“Alright, alright, I’ll keep building my case. Robin agrees with me, you know.” He’s not sure what he makes of Andy and Robin being friends before they had even been introduced. It had caught him off guard, Andy coming with him to one of Eddie’s gigs, and her and Robin chatting with an easy familiarity. Robin had failed to mention that they’re both in some kind of feminist consciousness-raising group on campus, and have been for two years. 

“Well, Robin thinks everyone’s a little gay so, I’m still not convinced.” Darkness On the Edge of Town is crackling and crooning in her cassette deck, Springsteen walking Streets of Fire, sending them both into a little sway at the counter, the light turning blue and dim in the little square window above the sink, frost filaments and threads around the edges of the panes. And the bread she’s slicing is from some friend of a friend who’s gotten into sourdough, because Andy has friends who get into sourdough, though when she pulls the loaf apart it looks more like chewed gum than bread in the middle. They make do with a few tortillas fried and folded with a fistful of cheese in a pan instead, settling down around each other with steaming bowls on the couch. 

“Oh hey, Syl, hey, baby.” The baby in question is digging her claws into his pants leg and crawling up his thigh. Steve hadn’t met Sylvia until the third or fourth time he stayed over, woken up from a deep, warm sleep to something tugging at his scalp. He thought it had been Andy being a little mean in that way he likes, a halfway delirious smile spreading and bleary eyes opening and he had been very wrong, met with the sight of a creature curled up next to his face and chewing on the ends of his hair. Emphasis on the word creature, not cat, no. And when he returned to his own apartment that morning and told Robin he met Sylvia, she had promptly said oh, the ballsack cat, yeah. He was inclined to agree with her on that title, and is still inclined to agree now, watching the hairless animal’s wrinkles curl and fold as she climbs up his chest, bap, bap, bapping at his throat while Steve holds his bowl of soup overhead and out of her swiping range. Andy keeps telling him that Sylvia likes him, even as she curls her hand around the cat’s middle to peel her off him, her claws catching in his sweater and she really likes you, Stevie. Yeah, he’s not so sure about that. But Andy’s cooed Stevie softens him, just a little. 

“Are you playing this weekend?” 

“Yeah, just a round robin thing on Saturday with some other teams.”

“Can I come watch?

“If you want to, I don’t know if it’s gonna be that interesting though.” Andy had come to watch a few of his club basketball games last weekend, and yeah, maybe a little puff of pride in his chest, maybe hustling a little faster, maybe taking more shots. And afterward, when his team mates asked him if that was his girl cheering for him on the bleachers, he had sniffed, and pointedly informed them that she’s not a girl, she’s a woman. 

“On the contrary, I think those shorts you wear are very interesting.”

“Are you objectifying me right now?” Her thumb and forefinger pinch together, smile scrunching to the side as she tries to hold in a laugh. 

“What can I say, you have a very objectifiable ass.” 

“I knew it, knew you just wanted me for my body.” An easy shuffle, both of them dissolving in a breath of laughter and soup bowls being set aside and Andy’s aw poor baby, how’s it feel coming out breathless as she settles her thighs around his hips, making him bark a single high note when her hands creep down his back and down into his back pockets and squeezing as best she can with her hands squished between him and the couch.

“If you rip these tights I’m never kissing you again.” His hands wandering, bunching up the dark green fabric of her dress, pretty thing that he watched flutter around her shins on the walk from class to her apartment. He palms her ass, fingers pressing greedy into the fat covered by knit brown tights, little pinch, little pull of the fabric and snapped back, making her huff at him.

“I don’t think I could if I tried. They’re fucking thick, how am I gonna get you out of these, huh?”

“It’s cold out, Steven. I need them to stay warm.” And of course, of course, if she pitches one down the middle he’s gonna swing, his grin turning smarmy as he tilts his chin up to smack a kiss to her mouth that lands more on her cheek with the way she ducks him, him mouthing into her skin I’ll keep you warm, honey. 

Andy cut all her hair off recently, leaving a spiky bob that’s a little too short to be called a bob and he likes it. Before, he’d hide his face in the fan of her hair, tucking his nose into the juncture of her neck and breathing deeply. Now it’s wildly easy access to let his mouth drag up the column of her throat, making her squirm in his hands, little tug to his hair where her fingers are threaded through mean. And somewhere in the background the piano is spilling out a desperate tune and Clarence is breathing hard into his sax and Bruce is whining in that dark rasp about proving it all night, girl, I’ll prove it all night for your love and he’s humming the words into her sternum while they stumble and shrug off the couch, a small whirlwind of him rucking her dress up and up and off and she’s in nothing but that damn pair of tights, her spine curling beneath his hands when he ducks his head down and presses the open heat of his mouth over her nipple, long sigh, and another stumble up against the wall next to her bedroom door. 

He’s doomed, he knows it. How badly he wants her, and when he gets her, how needy, how greedy. Got up at seven this morning to walk across campus and shovel her stoop because she had complained about nearly slipping the other day, and it was worth it when she came down still in her robe and soft an sleepy and pulled him inside to press kisses to the already red tips of his ears and his cheeks and his nose, let him sit with a warm cup of coffee and watch her roll those tights up her legs while she told him about a paper she’s writing about Jane Ussher’s conception of critical realism. He did his best to listen, to hold onto the details even as his brain wandered to the soft drop of her breasts as she leaned over herself. And it’s extra terrible, he thinks, that she seems to want him just as much, or close to it, at least, her hands slipping up under his sweater, the light scratch of her nails against his stomach, swallowing the whine that loosens in his chest when her fingers dip under the waistband of his jeans. Hands and teeth and tongues and give and take and an indignant chirp from somewhere at their feet when he steps on what he’s pretty sure was a paw, a murmured sorry ball– sorry, Sylvia when he closes the bedroom door before the cat can slip inside with them because no, not making that mistake again. And when he turns back around, he finds her standing there devastatingly smug, because she knows, she knows how freakishly foolish she has turned him, her hands on her hips and still in her tights and that little spill of softness over the waist of them and he wants to put his mouth there, there, and bite down just a little. Normal want, right? Right. 

“Come here.” She says it again, quiet c’mere with her shoulder hiked up and her cheek dropped to the slope of it and he’s never saying no to that, bare feet padding and hands finding the soft spill of her waist, her hips, tugging down and down and down on his knees and he’s got her laughing with how he holds onto her ankle to help her step out of the rolled-down fabric of her tights, pressing a kiss to the notch of bone there for good measure. Being with her, around her, he finds himself doing things he would have scoffed at, things the king would have scoffed at. But she makes him feel young and dumb in that giddy, good way, new, makes him forget the rules he had made for himself to make things like this easier. There is nothing, he has realized, that has been quite like this. 

For all the teasing, all the little taunts, she’s gentle where it counts. Makes him feel like something good, something real beneath her hands and her mouth, gentle when she pulls off his sweater and smooths back his hair from his face, always doing that with a kiss pressed to a temple, his brow, the crinkle that pulls next to his eye because he’s always smiling like a fool around her. And when they’re both bare, a little breathless from all the little pets, little kisses, curled around each other with her duvet tugged down around their hips because sweat is starting to build and pool in the soft hollows of their skin, they hold onto each other through the soft shake of it, hips and bellies and that sweet, simple sate. He comes with his face pressed against her heart, sweat and salt stinging his eyes and her hands holding him steady and she hums his name as a high sound in her throat, and he thinks that this could maybe, probably, definitely be called love. 

“Hmm.”

“Hmm?” He can see the shadow of her smile, the streetlight outside casting a warm wash over the bed, shadows of snowfall speckled on her cheek.

“Should probably get a shower.”

“Probably.” Even as he says it he’s pulling her closer, her feet hooked around his ankles, bare chest to bare chest and her hands tucked under his arms, thumbs brushing down the rungs of his ribs, sweat cooling a little humid, the beat of their hearts lulling slow in the aftermath.

“I don’t have class in the morning, do you?”

“At eleven, macroeconomics.”

“How bleak, gonna solve the debt crisis?”

“For you, I’ll try.”

“Oh please, Steve, you can’t just say stuff like that.” Little shove to his chest, though he just holds her tighter.

“Why not?”

“You’re gross. We’re gross.” 

“The grossest, honey.” 

“I like that.”

“What, being gross?”

“No, you calling me honey, I like that. No one’s called me that before, it’s cute.” He likes the feeling of the soft, melting line of her body pressed snug against his, her words breathed out on a sigh somewhere between sleep and not. 

“Noted, honey.” 

“You’re such a dick, Do you wanna do breakfast in the morning?” A quiet mmhmm, mmhmm? mmhmm from both of them. Sleep, he finds, comes easily like this. 

And in the morning, they wake up in a different tangle, both on their stomachs, her arm slung between his shoulder blades and his hand curled around her hip. They move with half-opened eyes and hoarse voices, hot shower and cool bathroom tiles and he’ll just wear his clothes from yesterday to class, he doesn’t care. But she still offers him a clean sweatshirt from that co-op she said she worked at freshman year (don’t laugh, Steven, I had free produce for months) and he puts it on, leaves the hood up to smell more of her while he watches her move around her kitchen from the little table tucked into the corner of the room. Sylvia pads over, sniffs at his bare feet and licks his pinky toe before clawing up the leg of his jeans with her front paws, stretching out and peering up at him. He gives her a cursory pat between her ears, and she doesn’t seem to care for that, a low rumbling noise that sounds like a complaint as she pushes off of his leg and slinks over to settle on the arm of the couch. 

“I have this leftover pumpkin bread, do you want some?” Said over her shoulder while she stirs eggs in a pan, her jeans half-unbuttoned and the hem of her sweater rolled up to expose the bare round of her hip. And it’s a simple thought, but it’s true, he likes looking at her. 

“Is it from the friend who got into sourdough?” 

“Be nice, she just started. And no, it’s from that bakery we went to last weekend.” And so there’s scrambled eggs with sharp cheese, how he likes them, and chopped peppers, how she likes them, and strong coffee, how they both like it, and a heel of pumpkin bread just starting to go stale that they make easy work of, breaking off pieces and dipping it into their coffee, quiet and their knees brushing with how close they are on chairs tucked into her small table. 

He leaves her place with a warm stomach and a swimming mind and the kiss she pressed to his cheek still blooming heat even in the snap of snow and cold. And whatever the professor lectures about in his eleven o’clock class is lost to him, sorry, he’s there but not there. There but still in the doorway of her apartment, and her all but shooing him off because I made you breakfast, that’s enough domesticity for the day, mean but not meaning it. He’d linger in her doorway all day if she let him, he thinks, fail all his classes, be presumed dead to the world, and he’d probably enjoy doing it. 

“What’s wrong with you?” Robin in the kitchen when he gets back to their apartment, dipping a banana directly into the peanut butter jar, and he doesn’t have enough of a mind to scold her for it.

“Nothing’s wrong with me.”

“Where’d you get that sweatshirt? Is it new? I haven’t seen it before.” 

“It’s Andy’s.”

“Oh, that’s what’s wrong with you. Did you sleep over? I didn’t hear you come home last night. How is your lady friend?” A waggle of her eyebrows as she pockets her last bite of banana in her cheek. He tries to side step her, and she mimes his movement easy enough, blocking his exit from their kitchen, her grin spreading. 

“Rob, please, I have a paper I need to–” 

“Oh, oh, I know that look.” And before he can ask her what she means by that she’s already shouting down the hall for Eddie because emergency family meeting is needed in the kitchen, thank you very much.

“What’s going on?” Easier to ride this out, to let Robin tug him into the living room and sit him down, Eddie on her heels.

“Steve’s in love.” 

“What? Robin–”

“Wait, with cool girl? Fuck, what’s her name again?”

“This is seriously none of your business, and–”

“Andy, with the boots, you met her last week.”

“We’re both casual, it’s casual, it’s a casual–”

“That’s right. I like her. Good work, Steven, you somehow found someone normal and cool this time. Remember that last chick?” 

“Hey–”

“With the hair?”

“She was–”

“And that perfume, woof.”

“Andy isn’t–”

“I’m pretty sure she was eating my leftovers out of the fridge, you know.” 

“I’m not–”

“No, really? Wouldn’t put it past her, that girl was—”

“Are you two done yet?” Mercifully, it’s enough to get them to stop their little back and forth, mouths shutting and faces turning to look at him like twin imps. 

“You’re in love, Steve, and before you say something like ugh Robin, no I’m not, ugh Robin, how could you possibly know that, I know these things, okay?”

“I don’t talk like that.” Eddie taps in, Robin standing smug with her arms crossed over her chest.

“She’s right, man, you’ve been kinda, well, yeah.” 

“What does that mean?” And what follows is another volley between his wretched roommates, Steve somewhere in the middle, dumbstruck.

“Sighing around the apartment like a kicked dog.”

“Getting snitty when you’re about to leave for one of your dates.”

“You smile like a freak when she’s around. Like a creepy, beautiful, vaguely Germanic doll.”

“You talk about her all the time. Like, all the time.” 

“You’re in love, man.”

“Indubitably so.”

“Hey, I say congrats, I actually like this one. Rob?” 

“I concur, bring her for dinner, this family meeting is adjourned.” Just like that, Robin rubbing her hands together in one loud clap and Steve doesn't even have a chance to get a word in edgewise, both her and Eddie already in their coats and their shoes and out the door because they both have class in twenty and bye, loverboy. He’s left on the couch in something close to a stupor. 

Maybe, probably, definitely he thinks. Though he’s not going to admit that to Robin or Eddie. God forbid they get one right. 

[docholligay]

How do you plan for the meals of the week? I find coming up and deciding what to do for dinner is the hardest part.

here's how I do it!

So, usually Saturday or Sunday--more often Sunday--I sit down in between work and chores and decide: What am I going to make this week?

I look at a couple things before I menu plan:

What's in the fridge?

What's in the freezer?

What is the weather going to be?

Am I working late any nights/is anyone going to be gone/do we have any events?

Then, i get started! I actually haven't done the menu for the week, so let's just do it here!

So this week I have chicken thighs left over from fonjew, and I'm also very busy, so it has to be something I can do quickly and easily. Beeb is very excited about the new knife set she got tonight (more on this later) and wants to help by cutting something. There's no day this week that's particularly hot or cold.

Okay then, we'll make chicken tacos. It's easy, it's quick, she can help me cut up all the things we'll need for garnishes and a side salad. I have tortillas, cheese, sour cream, tomatoes--all I need to grab is some lettuce, maybe.

wednesday night is the last night of hanukkah, and I already bought a rib roast for that. Easy peasy. I have shrimp, we'll do surf and turf. Maybe I'll make fondant potatoes, those are easy but fancy and beeb can use her peeler. Okay, so i have duck fat, butter, garloic chicken broth, seasoning. Just need to get potatoes. I have broccoli and caulifower--bake that with the leftover cheese sauce from fonjew. Dessert is ice cream made from the failed rosace l'orange.

Still have chicken thighs, will still be busy. So let's look at what else I've got in the fridge. I've got a big caesar salad kit. I'll do a marinated chicken thigh served with salad. It's boring, but this is a boring week culinarily.

friday, shabbat. i bought a bunch of chicken breasts on clearance and precooked them, we still have a ton of broccoli and carrots, so we'll make chicken and dumplings. I have onions, chicken broth, wine, flour, baking powder, milk. I think the only thing I might need is celery. I've got a caramel made, I think i'm gonna make a chocolate caramel crunch cake. I've got butter eggs, cocoa, flour, sugar. I think that'll be fine. I might need to go get more butter for frosting.

Saturday everyone is going to be on their own because i am not doing JACK SHIT.

so my shopping list is: lettuce, potatoes, celery, butter (possibly). I don't always have fonjew, so I don't always have a fucking BEVY of ingredients already at my disposal, but I do fill my freezer with clearance stuff.

So there we are! I did not this week, because I am so busy, go through the recipes I've highlighted as wanting to try, nor have a I pushed the boundaries of my skills, really--well, that caramel crunch cake is a bit of an undertaking I guess. Anyhow.

This is what I do! A lot of it is just experience, and the only way to get experience is to keep at it. Just pick a day to sit down and at least do the next three days!

I should add I got a lot of this experience and information out of necessity. I lived a fairly lean life, in some parts of it, and it made me very good at looking at the food I had and knowing I could make something of it. I'm a pretty good "chopped" style cook. And now I'm pretty alright, but old habits die hard, and I think being the sort of person who knows how to take leftovers and make food is a good thing indeed.

I find just opening a document and getting started to be the hardest part of the whole thing.

[ballternia]

did you ever died from eating taco bell after supergluing your asscheeks together?

TRANSLATION UNDER THE CUT

BN: listen i BN: have had a lot of dangerous things BN: go into and come out of me BN: over the sweeps BN: but i have only once died at such an establishment BN: and let me tell you my parabolic tortilla gong experience was BN: listen no matter what your friends try to talk you into BN: dont let them talk you into BN: 'hey bibi how many of these lil frosting filled cinnamon blasters can u stack on yr dick' BN: the answer BN: is NOT IMPORTANT BN: THOSE THINGS ARE REALLY HOT

[not-that-dillinger]

Ed's preferences

Some Edcanons. If you care.

Animal: Birds

Flower: Lavender or hydrangias

Scent: Lavender,

Coffee: latte with four shots of espresso and enough sugar that it's practically sugar... but only if the situation's dire.

Tea: Lavender earl grey or Lavender chamomile. Alternatively Jasmine green tea

Drink: Grapefruit juice or lemonaid

Alcoholic Beverage: Golden Dream (cocktail), sambouca (liqueur) tequila (liquor), white wine or hard seltzer.

Food: Pho, street tacos (with corn tortillas), mole enchiladas, butternut squash soup, or pot roast.

Dessert: Creme brulee or mochi ice cream

Article of Clothing: hand-knit beanie made from qiviut yarn, gifted from a friend in college.

Candy: Salted Licorice (or any gluten free licorice)

Left or Right Handed?: Situationally ambidextrous but favoring his right hand. He used to favor handed until an incident in middle school where he broke his left wrist.

Sloppy or Neat Writing?: Depends on spoons for the day. Usually neat cursive, but if he's been doing to much stuff that strains his wrists it progressively becomes worse.

Clean or Messy Home?: ...lived-in. He rarely has the energy to do a deep clean, but will do chores here and there as energy permits.

Shower in Morning or Night?: Mornings, only because the ratio of times he actually goes to bed versus crashing is... concerning.

Tasks Done Early or Last Minute?: Depends on priority level, and generally broken into smaller chunks spread out but planned so that he can get it done with some buffer room, though usually completed ahead of schedule

Love Language?: Gift giving and acts of service

Believe in Love at First Sight?: ...You mean that isn't something that was made up in movies? People actually do that??? Still sounds fake.

tagged by: Stolen from: @the-expatriate

tagging: @wanderxdusk / @starstruckxstray, @mysticbluejay, @first-frost-fallen-snow (for Raye, but also any muse you like), @evecolourshock (your choice of muse), @corruptedcodelines, and anyone else who sees this and would like to do it. Of course, there is never any pressure to do it if you don't want to.

[cats-and-confusion]

@cryptidwithaninternetconnection reminded me of incorrect quotes generators, so, spicynoodles, a list.

Red Son: Are you trying to seduce me?

MK: Why, are you seducible?

-

MK: Everything’s fine, Red Son.

Red Son: MK, I know your relationship with the english language is strictly casual, but you- I- *deep inhale* ALLOW ME TO TELL YOU WHAT’S NOT FINE.

-

MK: Wow, great work on the Halloween decorations. Where did you get the fake skeletons?

Red Son: Fake?

-

MK: Do you want some tea?

Red Son: What are the options?

MK: Yes or no.

-

MK: *Hugs Red Son from behind*

MK: *Tucks Red Son's hair behind their ear*

MK, whispering: Eat all the frosted animal crackers again and they'll never find your body.

-

Red Son: I have feelings for you.

MK: Why? What's wrong with you? Are you sure you're okay?

-

Red Son: Okay, I’m going to get the wedding cake.

MK: Perfect, while you do that I’ll check on the ring bear.

Red Son: ...

Red Son: You mean ring bearER, right?

MK: ...

Red Son: Look me in the eyes and tell me you are not going to bring a dangerous wild animal to our wedding.

-

MK: Met a dumbass today. Awful.

Red Son: You looked in a mirror?

MK: Someday you will have to answer for your actions and god may not be so merciful.

-

Red Son: Ugh, crushes are so dumb.

MK: I know. Whenever I’m near the person I like I just start acting stupid.

Red Son: But you’re always acting stupid?

MK: ...

MK: Yeah, don’t think about that too hard.

-

Red Son: I’m proud to identify as morosexual. I’m attracted to dumbasses and dumbasses exclusively. Someone asked me what the Spanish word for "tortilla" was once, and now I dream of kissing them under the moonlight.

MK: What kind of animal is the Pink Panther?

Red Son, already taking off their clothes: God, MK, you’re so fucking stupid.

-

Red Son: Wow, they really hate us.

MK: Yes, perhaps they’re homophobic.

Red Son: But we’re not gay, MK.

MK:

Red Son:

MK: We’re not?

-

MK: Okay, but what if we went to dinner not as friends this time?

Red Son: AS ENEMIES?!

MK:

-

MK: If we don’t get out of this alive… If we’re both about to die… I love you, Red Son!

*Neither of them die*

Red Son: …

MK: …

Red Son: So do you wanna talk about somethi-

MK: No thank you.

-

Red Son: We just ate. Why are you making pancakes?

MK: For the monkeys.

Red Son: Why are you making pancakes for the monkeys?

MK: They don't know how.

-

Red Son: Did it hurt when you fell-

MK: From heaven? Wow, I didn’t think you were such a flirt-

Red Son: No, I meant when you fell down the stairs.

MK: ...

Red Son: You just laid there for 15 minutes.

-

Red Son: I'm tired.

MK: You slept for three hours last night! Why are you surprised?!

Red Son: I'm not surprised. I just wanted to complain about it.

-

Site used was https://perchance.org/incorrect-quote-generator

[a-blankslate]

Ranboo eats tortilla chips with frosting can we talk about that

[kitchenwitchupinthisbitch]

"I used to bake these all the time. I wonder why I stopped?" I asked to no one in particular.

"Because my parents would take all the food without asking. These are the best brownies you've ever made". My husband said between mouthfuls of warm brownie and vanilla ice cream.

"oh" the realization hit me. I started to zone out and remember all the times I had to ask them to stop eating my baked goods without asking. I would happily allot them some if either A) They asked me to make them some or B) Asked to have some of whatever was already made. But they never did.

"Sweetie. How many did you eat? Don't lie to me. I just want to know so I can figure out why so many are gone so soon." I started counting how many cookies were on the plate and doing math. "I only had two, mommy." My kid started to think. "Wait. You gave me one after we finished making them and Daddy have me one. I know they're for Auntie Katy's party, but I really wanted another one but couldn't reach them. So only two!" He held up two fingers. If I only had this many, and my husband swears he had this many, plus two... Then why are there so many gone?! My in laws watch me have this conversation right in front of them, yet they offer no information.

"Babe, so you had THIS many? Are you sure?" He motions for me to come over. He whispers "I'm 99% sure I saw my dad Knocking back a few with a glass of milk last night after you went to bed on top of the few you offered him" I begin to frantically do math in my head. "Ok so if there's this many people there then they call all have this many cookies with how much we have left. Crap that's not nearly as much as I was hoping to bring, but it will have to do." I have my hands on my head now holding my head up. "Crap crap crap." I start hand flapping and thinking out loud this time as I pace the kitchen. "If the party is at this time, I have this much time to get ready, help the kid get ready and then make more cookies. I can make the cookies, clean myself up and get the kid ready while they cool."

"Oh you're making more cookies!" My father in laws ears perk up. I begin to panic again and start thinking outloud "Yes, but they're not for you! I've already explained that. They're for the family Christmas party and there's not enough anymore." My hands are flapping wildly as I continue to pace the kitchen. I realize I may have given him the idea that I've invited him to argue. "Oh come on! They don't need that many." He says as he chuckles to himself baiting me into an argument. "And besides. You're using my kitchen and my ingredients. It's only fair." I swear to God my vision has unfocused the more I start to think about the cookie situation. "Don, I've already told you. These are my ingredients, my baking sheets and my cookies. If you wanted some, I would make some for you at another time. These are for the party." The cookie sheets were actually a wedding gift. As were most of my baking accessories. I was getting angrier the more I had to explain to him, so I just left the kitchen and went to our side of the house. "Ok." He dejectedly says as turns around, imagining be won the argument.

"They do this every damn time." I say now curled up into a ball on our bed." My husband comes in just after me. I can hear the kids yoga video for the kid he put on in anticipation of having to console me. "I know babe. I'm sorry." He puts his arms around me. "Is there anything I can do to help? I'm not much of a baker, but I can may be make a batch of frosting?" I start to cry, which I hate to do as it makes communication harder between sobs. "Last week, they both ate two meals worth of tortillas and I had to replan my entire menu for the day! Now I discover a third of my cookies for the party are missing the day of. I'm tired of it. I have given them solutions in the past, but they would rather take them without asking and then tell me it's their right. I just want to have my own stuff here and stop having them make me feel like an intruder here!"

That was the last time I made Christmas cookies. In fact, that was the last time I willingly cooked anything i knew they would eat. I usually cooked Thanksgiving dinner for the whole family as my in laws were too old to cook a meal that large. Cooking was always a passion of mine, so it was no trouble at all to cook the entire meal. Especially since that was one occasion on which they did indeed provide me with the ingredients.

More memories creep in "These store bought tortillas have nothing on you, kiddo. Why did you stop making them?" My father in law laments. I ignore him. "She should take it as a compliment that we ate all her cooking!" He protests, trying to goad me into an argument. "Dad, you ate someone else's birthday cupcakes one time. Of course she stopped making food for you." I didn't even warn them that I wasn't cooking that year. We were moved out of the house the week of Thanksgiving. That year I made a much smaller Thanksgiving dinner for my family in our new home. Our first family dinner, just the three of us. The first one in a long time.

Snapping back, I look down at my bowl to see my ice cream has mostly melted. Oops. I lost myself in another bad memory. Hopefully, this batch of brownies will be the first of many- "That and my Dad told us he'd call the cops bc he thought your special batch of brownies was weed special and not regular ass brownies with nuts and chocolate chips."

Goddamit. I can feel myself getting sucked into another memory... "Don't be stupid Don. I'm too poor to afford drugs and even if I could afford them, I'm not wasting them on you." Nope. Not again. Shake the etch-a-sketch memory out of your brain. I go back to finishing my now like warm brownie with cold cream.

[elians-terrarium]

I'm at it again yay

[otrtbs]

idk why but ur recent post made me imagine what it would be like if all the characters just had their own girl dinner as their meal in the dinner fic

like its a really fancy setting/atmosphere or whatever and the food gets hyped up so much and then beneath the silver dish is just the plainest pasta you've ever seen w sprinkled cheese and a dr pepper or some shit

and they all eat it as if its fine dining, 100% srs, like reg is just at the head of the table twirling his fork and asking pandora ab politics whilst they all tuck in

omg omg hahaha that would be so funny i'm actually inspired

the dinner fic characters and their girl dinners 🍱✨ :

james: gushers fruit snacks, celery sticks, day old fried rice, the rainbow airhead xtremes, mango (but only if it's already cut up otherwise he'll eat a banana)

lily: pistachios, dried apricots, peanut butter out of the jar, popcorn

sirius: salted tomato slices, toast w butter (the bread w the seeds in it), canned frosting (eats it w a spoon), salami slices, cherries

remus: dark chocolate, cereal (no milk just out of the box by the handful), plums, black coffee

regulus: olives, orange slices, greek yogurt, red wine, cold cut turkey slices from the deli

marlene: a cheese stick (or two), pickles, pepperoni slices, ice cream

dorcas: pomegranate seeds, white wine, babybel cheese, graham crackers (the cinnamon kind), pita chips w artichoke dip

pandora: nachos (but the kind where u throw shredded cheese on tortilla chips and microwave it that's it), sugar snap peas, mini marshmallows

mary: raspberries, cucumbers, diet coke, chocolate chips out of the bag, hot chips

barty: redbull, doritos, shredded cheese right out of the bag, a boiled egg, gummy worms

evan: a whole rotisserie chicken (just going at it w ur bare hands) and oreos

peter: carrot sticks, hummus, chocolate chip cookies, a block of cheddar cheese

[cassandrahatesf00d]

Hey 4πa peeps

Trying to hold myself accountable recently for what I'm eating so here's my start

_________________________________________

Breakfast:

1 slice French bread. 160

Tablespoon guacamole. 45

1 banana. 89

Total: 294 :(((

_________________________________________

Lunch:

Absolutely nothing ❤️🎀

_________________________________________

Dinner:

1/4 of a mini roast potato 64

Ramen cup 380

2 slices of baby cake (FML!!!). (ish)560

1 brownie. 112

14 grams of Tortilla chips 73

44 grams of guacamole. 64

5 fl/oz Orange juice 68

Total: 1308 😔

Total for the day: 1604

MAX limit was 1300.

_________________________________________

*Took a walk before dinner, burned like 480 cals from my whole day*

I'm a failure. I promised myself I would never eat cake again. (For my birthday I usually get a fruit tart as a substitute because it's tasty and my family knows I love fruit) I ATE CAKE AGAIN. THE ONE THING I WAS CONFIDENT I COULD AVOID. My mom is a teacher and the kids she teaches bring her all kinds of stuff for various holidays, for some reason, some kid thought it would be appropriate to get my mom a baby CAKE for Valentine's day??? She brought it home like a week ago, I've been avoiding eating any but I had to this time cos everyone was getting suspicious. Apparently I've "always loved cake" ??? But anyway, I scraped off the death frosting and mostly just ate the cake. Surprise surprise I BINGED. BIG TIME. Today was supposed to be a fasting day because my big as$ had Dutch bros yesterday, BUT NO. I ended up having my dinner (roastie, ramen cup) and then being forced to eat a slice of cake which I proceeded to eat an entire other slice of (literally what????) And it just went downhill from there, so tomorrow, NO FOOD (can't avoid dinner but can usually skip breakfast and lunch if I try hard enough) I'm fasting tonight and tomorrow I will try to avoid breakfast but at most I'll have a hard boiled egg (hopefully just the egg white🤞) and lunch isn't an issue since im at school for that, dinner is unfortunately a must though. We always eat dinner together in my family, if I said I wasn't hungry or something they would force me to eat. :(

[bugsnaxbrackets]

Welcome, aspiring chefs, to the

BUGSNAK FUSION KITCHEN!

The grumpuses of Snaxburg has become tired of the same ol snax, they want something fresh! That is where y’all come in!

Rules:

Comment which snak should be next and where should it go/what to do with it

I gather the first 10 (or less) comments and you all vote on them

I add the winner of that vote

Continue to comment and I’ll continue to gather, etc etc

Ultimate Snak is formed with all 112 snax

Current Progress:

Meet Spicecream the Goopster: A honey, gummy, and chocolate chip covered Bopsicle with a mochi body, spoon nose with dragon roll roe, french fry teeth, curly fry tusks, red onion gills, peeled banana horns with red banana peels, candle and ramen-wrapped pickle legs with umbrella extensions and pepper claws, blue corn tortilla spikes, a butter pat, graham cracker wings covered in donut frosting + sprinkles, chocolate chip spines, a jalapeño tail with a lollipop bow and apple claws, and a Strabby, a caramel covered Razzby with pineapple leaf hair with flamin’ cheese chip wings, an Eggler with pita bread wings and bacon hair, a Wee Mewon with cinnamon roll hair inside the Razzby’s pineapple leaf hair, and a Flutterjam with a Weenyworm inside it, all stuck with crystal candy.

Snax List (left to right)

Fryder (teeth)

Megamaki (roe on face)

Crystal Sweetiefly (covering extra snax)

Eggler (sitting on spoon)

Flapjackarack (on Eggler’s head)

Tikkada Masala (wing set C)

Kweeble (face)

Bunger (tusks)

Strabby (sitting on head)

Razzby (sitting on head)

Caramel Poptick (covering Razzby’s body)

Flamin’ Cheepoof (wing set B)

Pineantula (leaves on Razzby’s head)

Wee Mewon (inside Pineantula leaves)

Cinnasnail (roll on Wee Mewon’s head)

Sub Sandopede (gills)

Red Banopper (covering horns)

Scoopy Banoopy (horns)

Bopsicle (base)

Grumpy Snakpod (stuck to honey)

Chippie (stuck to honey)

Hunnabee (covering body)

Baja Tacroach (spikes on back)

Millimochi (body extension)

Chocolant (spine)

Baby Cakelegs (leg set A)

Preying Picantis (claws)

Snaquiri (leg set C)

Spuddy (butter pat)

Charmallow (wing set A)

Sprinklepede (covering wings)

Noodler (wrapped around leg set B)

Pinkle (leg set B)

Sweetiefly (on tail)

Scorpeyno (tail)

Crapple (on tail)

Weenyworm (between Flutterjam)

Mothza Supreme (Weenyworm toppings)

Flutterjam (sitting on tail)

————————

Inspired by TB_Mumpitz’s saga on Reddit to fuse all the Gen 1 Pokémon together into a singular Pokémon