#fry him to a crunchy golden brown

[peerlessscowl]

She's worried about him. Of course she is. They'd fought together in Enbarr and, in the end, he came out of it looking like hell. It's natural to be concerned about her companion like this.

But it's more than that, too. Raven has become someone she can rely on. Someone she trusts. Someone she might even consider to be a friend.

She is glad, when she finds him back at the bunker, to see him in one piece even if that one piece is broken and bruised. "Raven," there's a hint of a smile as she approaches him," how are you holding up?"

The smile fades quickly when she gets close enough to realize what he's doing. A concoction pulled out of his bag, the bottle uncorked, he's about to drink it.

He told her he was going to give his medicine to that person they found hurt.

Hands curl into fists as she fights back the flames of anger that threaten to grow inside of her. She glares at the concoction and then her eyes find his.

"You lied."

It had been easier to ignore while things were moving, to just grit his teeth and bear it until everyone had been able to get what they needed and move out, but now that solid ground was beneath his boots and the adrenaline was beginning to wear off, Raven felt himself begin to slow, his movements swaying and sluggish, and once he actually sat himself down for a moment in the bunker he felt himself begin to tip to one side.

With a grunt, he straightened, forcibly, pressing his back against the cold stone and focused. The healers would be a moment, and there would be others of more dire circumstance than he, surely. It was no matter to him if he needed, for a bit, to be the one to tend to himself.

His fingers dug idly around in a side pouch for a vial that he knew he'd carried with him, but simply hadn't the time to administer, and with shaking fingers he dug the cork out and began to tip it upward into his mouth as he met the dark and glazing glower of Altena.

Raven frowned softly, brows coming together for a moment, but he was under no delusions about why she was angry. It was why he'd sent her away to begin with.

He finished swallowing the medicine, biting down the hiss that normally came with healing, and kept his face a flat mask as he considered her in silence.

Then; "Not a lie. I said that I had something I could give them."

And he had.

[prongsie-kins]

part three of when i met you

this is a filo!james au revolving around james potter courting regulus black in a semi-traditional way

disclaimer: english is NOT my first language and not the type that this would be beautifully written but there might be some grammatical error i didn't notice while editing. also keep in mind that this is my first multichapter fic and im still trying to improve my writing

translation at the bottom

Beginning | Previous | Next

then you came you brought me out of the shell

"James!" Sirius shouted, fuming mad. "Are you seriously courting my brother? My baby brother?"

"Yes, I am Siriusly courting Regulus," James playfully replied. "But yes, I won't make any promises that I wouldn't hurt him because that is inevitable. I'm serious about him, no pun intended. And I want to show him that he could like me like I could like him."

"Fine, I'll trust you in this one but at least let me help you. I want to know how you do it."

—

"How do you do this?" Sirius complains. James only laughs and pats his back.

"Just push your thumb on the first layer of the wrapper around the meat so it can be rolled easier," James explains as he wraps another one and then folds both ends of the first layer before continuing to roll it around the rest of the wrapper. Then finishing it by applying egg wash to the edge of the last unrolled corner. He did all that in one swift motion.

James have done a neat pile while Sirius did three. Wrappers all messy and loose.

The two were in the kitchens making a snack James would give Regulus. Politely asked the elves to let them use the kitchens. They were kind enough to bring them the ingredients they needed. Sirius stuck around as he wanted to eat a few as well. James then forced him to help, stating he can't make many by himself.

By the time James added a single roll in the hot oil, Sirius chickened out. Stepping back to watch James work.

The dish turns out golden brown, alongside Sirius' hard work, with the meat poking out of the wrapper. He munched on it earnestly.

When they got back to their dorm, the dish was suddenly in a green Tupperware James conjured out of nowhere. Turns out, Effie insisted on them keeping the Tupperware when she sent them food from home.

James has his own Tupperware stacked somewhere hidden in the dorm. Different colors of Tupperware in various sizes. Effie constantly reminded them never to lose the Tupperware whenever she sent them to either James or Sirius. They made sure to keep that reminder in mind because you do not want to see Effie mad.

—

An odd-looking container was suddenly perched up on Regulus' desk. It was large, circular, and bowl-shaped with a funky-looking lid full of ridges resembling folded paper. There was a note attached on top of the lid.

If you ever feel hungry studying late at night

~James

p.s. make sure to bring back the container, Mum would be upset ;)

Regulus carefully opened the lid of the still-warm container. It was probably charmed to stay warm as it seemed like the container had been on his desk for half an hour. Inside the container are golden bite-sized rolls. He often sees Sirius and Marlene munching on this snack.

He grabbed one roll and slowly took a bite of the crunchy roll. He immediately tasted the slightly salty wrappers that kind of looked like a crepe. Inside were ground meat filled with various ingredients such as onions and carrots. The flavor exploded in Regulus' palate.

He always wanted to try this snack and James gave him a container filled with it.

He happily munched on them while studying. His non-dominant hand grabs a roll—as it is slightly greasy due to deep frying it—while his other hand is turning the pages of the book he's reading.

This is the scene that greeted Barty by the time he went back to their dorm. He was fully intent on taking a nap before smelling food coming from Regulus' way.

So as instinct, he walked towards Regulus."What's that?" He asked.

"Oh, this?" Regulus gestures to a Tupperware filled with snacks sitting on his desk. "James gave it to me."

"Can I have one?"

"No."

"Is it that good?"

"Ask James for it. This is mine."

"You have gotten too whipped for him to get to that point."

"I am not. He sent me this for something to eat while studying late at night. I don't want to finish it before later."

"You are so in denial at this point. How can you process things with that air-filled brain of yours to not take a hint in this."

"He's just being considerate, Barty. Stop it, please."

"I won't be promising nothing."

—

"How'd you like the Lumpiang Shanghai then?" James asked the next day.

"Is that what's it called? It's incredible. How'd you make the elves do it?" He asked, a bit curious since it's a foreign dish.

"They didn't. Well, they were kind enough to buy us ingredients but mostly we did the job. It was Mum's recipe," James shrugs.

"You, James Potter, can cook?"

"I can sing for you too if you pleased."

"No thanks. But you did mention 'we', who helped you making?"

"Sirius." James was shocked to hear Regulus laugh since it was the first time he heard it actually genuine.

"Really," Regulus asked, incrediously. "My brother, helped you cook?"

"He cooked for himself but it's the thought that counts."

Regulus chuckles. Still refusing to believe what he has heard.

"Where was the Tupperware, by the way?"

"Barty lost it, sorry?" James visibly pales at Regulus' reply. "Why? What's wrong?"

James released a shaky laugh. "Lagot, I am seriously screwed when we get back home."

Next

———

"Lagot" - an expression usually used when you are in trouble.

[pokerecipes]

Charmander Chili

This is like the ultimate feel good food for when you're sick or cold, it warms up your insides and tastes really well. My dad made this for me and my sibling all my childhood, he still sometimes makes it when I visit him.

The stuff that makes things spicy is called capsaicin, it triggers your heat receptors in your mouth, which is why spicy doesnt actually belong to the 5 elemental tastes but is instead a pain reaction. Capsaicin causes you to produce more spit which is good for your teeth and more gastric juice which aids in your digestion.

This recipe is ideal for 4 people but you can freeze it for a really long time so doing that is fine too.

Ingredients

800g minced charmander meat

2 big onions

3 cloves of garlic

2 tablespoons oil for frying

1 bell pepper, red or orange

2 tablespoons tomato paste

800g diced tomatoes, canned (storebought or selfmade is fine)

500g kidney beans

500ml broth (storebought or selfmade is fine)

Spices (I use cayenne pepper, pepper powder, chili powder, salt, pepper and tabasco)

Instructions

Strip your onions and fry them until they're golden-brown. Use a pot for this and not a little frying pan.

Add your meat and take your time in letting it take colour and make sure it's evenly spread out and fried.

CLEAN YOUR VEGETABLES!

Dice your bell pepper and throw it into the pot

Add the tomato paste first and let it sit there a bit before adding the tomatoes as well and stirring all of it well

Add the garlic (skinned and chopped or minced) and season the contents of the pot thoroughly

Now add the broth and give everything in there a good and thorough stir

Cook the chili at medium temperature for 45 minutes, should the liquid cook away, just add some more broth

Shortly before the time is up (maybe 10 minutes) throw in the kidney beans after WASHING THEM

Take the pot off the heat once the time is up and let it sit for a while.

Serve it with some nice and crunchy bread or nachos

Clean the kitchen and feel accomplished

[akshaymehndiratta]

Akshay Mehndiratta - Monsoon Recipes, Indian Rainy Day Food

Akshay Mehndiratta - Monsoon season brings with it a refreshing change after the scorching heat. The sound of raindrops and the earthy fragrance in the air create the perfect ambiance to indulge in some delicious comfort food.Whether you are a fan of spicy snacks, hot beverages, or hearty meals, the monsoon season offers a host of delicious dishes to tantalize your taste buds. In this blog, Akshay Mehndiratta explains some delicious monsoon recipes that will make your rainy days more enjoyable.

Pakoras: 

Pakoras are a popular and delicious snack during monsoon days. The ingredients used to make pakoras can vary, but some common options include onions, potatoes, spinach, cauliflower, eggplant, and paneer. These ingredients are usually cut or cut into pieces before being coated in batter. The batter for the pakoras is made by mixing gram flour (also known as gram flour), spices like turmeric, cumin, coriander and chili powder, salt, and water. The mixture should have a thick consistency, similar to pancake batter, so that it coats the ingredients well. 

Akshay Mehndiratta says, To make pakoras, the ingredients are dipped in batter and then carefully dropped into hot oil for deep-frying. They are fried till they become crispy and golden brown. Once cooked, pakoras are usually served hot and can be enjoyed with various chutneys, such as mint chutney or tamarind chutney, as well as ketchup or yogurt.

Masala Chai:

Masala Chai is a spiced tea originating from India. It consists of a mixture of black tea, milk, spices such as cardamom, cinnamon, cloves and black pepper, and a sweetener. Akshay Mehdniratta loves chai and according to him, to prepare masala tea, you need to  boil water with crushed spices, add black tea leaves, cook over low heat, add milk and sweeten to taste. Strain and serve hot. Masala Chai offers a comforting and aromatic blend of flavours, enjoyed around the world as a morning energizer or a soothing afternoon drink.

Dal Khichdi: 

According to Akshay Mehndiratta, Dal khichdi is a famous dish in monsoon. It is prepared by cooking a mixture of rice and lentils with aromatic spices and sometimes vegetables. The dish begins with washing and soaking rice and lentils, then roasting them in ghee or oil with cumin and optional whole spices. Vegetables can be added for extra flavor and nutrition. Turmeric powder, asafoetida and salt are added to the mixture, bringing out the warm and savory essence of the ingredients. Water is added in a specific proportion, and the khichdi is cooked in a pressure cooker or covered pan until the rice and lentils are soft and tender. The result is a comforting and nutritious dish that can be enjoyed alone or with curd, pickle or papad.

Corn Bhel:

Corn Bhel is a delectable snack that brings together the sweetness of corn kernels, the spiciness of chutney and the crunch of mixed vegetables. Boiled or thawed corn kernels are mixed with finely chopped onions, tomatoes, cucumbers, capsicum and other desired vegetables. A generous amount of green chutney made of coriander, mint, green chillies and spices along with tamarind chutney adds to the flavour. A sprinkling of chaat masala and salt adds to the flavour, while a handful of crispy sev adds to the texture. Finish the dish with freshly chopped coriander leaves and a squeeze of lemon juice. Corn Bhel is a delightful combination of sweet, tangy, spicy and crunchy elements, making it a popular street food snack in India.

Aloo Paneer Tikki:

Akshay Mehndiratta says, Aloo Paneer Tikki is a popular and delicious dish on rainy days. To prepare this delicious dish, boiled potatoes are mashed and mixed with crumbled paneer, finely chopped onions, green chillies and fresh coriander leaves. Red chili powder, garam masala, cumin powder and salt are then added to the mixture to enhance the taste. These tikkis are then deep fried in oil till they turn golden brown in colour, crispy. The result is a delightful combination of textures and flavors, with the softness of the cheese complementing the creaminess of the potatoes. eat aloo paneer tikki with mint chutney, tamarind chutney or tomato ketchup to add a tangy and refreshing element to it.

Want more information about food then visit Akshay Mehndiratta website.

[densi-mber]

Buñuelos and Whirligigs

Deeks came home one Saturday afternoon mid-December to the smell of something sweet and slightly greasy filling in the air. He followed the scent to the kitchen where he found Kensi and Rosa tending a large pot on top of the stove.

“Hey Ladies, what are you making?” he greeted them, looking around the kitchen. The were several dishes spread around and a paper towel covered plate.

“Hey, baby.” Kensi looked up with a smile, lifting a frying strainer from the pot.

“Hi Marty,” Rosa said, gesturing to the pot. “We’re making Buñuelos. They’re a little bit like donuts and very popular in Guatemala for many holidays, including Christmas.”

“You started the Christmas baking without me? Traitors.” Coming to stand beside them, he kissed Kensi’s cheek and squeezed Rosa’s shoulder.

“Sorry.” Kensi gave him an apologetic grimace. “I just wanted to practice a little before you came home. Besides, it’s frying, not baking.”

“We talked about making traditional fruit cake, but that was never my favorite. We barely ever had it when I was growing up,” Rosa added.

“I bet it would be a million times better than any other fruitcake I’ve had before,” Deeks said, reaching over to lift up the corner the paper towel concealing the Buñuelos. “But I can definitely get behind anything that resembles a donut. So, do I get a taste?”

“Uh, you might want to wait for the next batch,” Kensi advised. “We got a little distracted with the first ones so they’re just a tiny bit…crunchy.”

“And you have to eat them with syrup,” Rosa said, dipping her strainer into this pot and coming up with a golden brown ball of dough. After that, she and Kensi quickly removed the rest of the Buñuelos before they burnt. Once they were resting on a fresh layer of paper towel, Rosa grabbed a pitcher of warmed syrup and a bowl of cinnamon sugar.

Together, they munched on the dessert, sprinkling sugar and dots of syrup along the counter. For once, Deeks didn’t care about the mess. It was well worth it for Rosa and Kensi’s obvious delight.

“So what do you and Kensi usually make?” Rosa asked once they slowed down a bit. “I’ve made sugar cookies, and the peanut butter blossoms, but I had to improvise since we couldn’t find any Hershey kisses.

“It changes every year,” Kensi answered. “This time we were thinking of trying what Roberta calls whirligig cookies.”

“They’re not for the faint of heart,” Deeks whispered to Rosa.

“Sounds like fun. I like a change.”

“Awesome.” Kensi handed Rosa a large bag of chocolate chips and a jar of peanut butter. “Then you can roll them this year.”

***

A/N: I always like to insert a little family history into my stories, and in this case, it’s whirligig cookies again. As grandma always said, when you make them don’t answer the phone.

[curlynerd]

You're Bacon Me Crazy Word Count: 2K Rating: T Summary: "I can like more than one kind of burger, you know!" Or, Dean comes out through complicated burger metaphors. Notes: humor, canon-adjacent, coming out, established Destiel, #pray4Sam

Also read on AO3!

"You're really having two burgers, Dean?" Sam asks in his most smug, most obnoxious "I’m eating kale for lunch" voice. Dean really hates that voice.

Dean straightens his back and spreads his hands out, like the two wrapped burgers, the extra large fries, and the soda with two straws are a majestic bounty. “I’m a growing boy, Sammy."

“Uh-huh,” Sam deadpans. He lifts the takeout lid of his salad and starts carefully drizzling the vinaigrette cup over his bed of leafy greens and grilled chicken. “And you’re definitely not going to bully Cas into splitting them with you? You know he doesn’t need to eat.”

Something tight and anxious curls in Dean’s chest. “No!” he blurts out, realizing a second too late that it’s normal for him to share his food with Cas. Just because he’s been doing it more now that he and Cas are finally together does not mean that it’s weird now.

In response to Dean’s defensiveness, Sam raises a self-righteous eyebrow in sync with his salad-laden fork. “Can he even really taste them? I thought he didn’t like food in angel mode.”

Dean swallows down a multitude of answers. He likes sharing the experience with Cas anyway. He thinks the way his face scrunches up at the molecules is cute. It makes him feel all warm and fuzzy inside that an angel -- his angel -- is willing to put up with something so silly and mundane and human as taste-testing different burgers.

He really, really needs to tell Sam the truth about him and Cas. Hell, he’s been trying to for months! But every time the perfect opportunity presents itself, he turns into a fuckin’ coward.

And today definitely is another perfect moment. The conversation has naturally turned to Cas. They’re sitting at a picnic table at the park, with nobody around to overhear Dean spill his guts in the most agonizing and uncomfortable way possible. They’re working a case, so immediately after the conversation Dean can bury himself in research and hunting and not have to deal with Sam’s big, obnoxious “let’s make a huge deal out of this!” puppy dog eyes. And Cas isn’t even here right now to make things more awkward. He’s still checking out the victim at the coroner's office across the street.

Dean tries not to think about what a big baby he’s being by ignoring this golden opportunity. “He just tastes stuff different as an angel. He’s learning how to pick out the nuance.”

Sam rolls his eyes. “Because there’s so much nuance to ‘extra cheese’ or ‘hold the tomato.’”

“Oh like you’d know, Mr. Tofu Burger.”

“You’d eat a burger off the floor. Are you really trying to convince me you care about what kind of burger it is?”

Dean huffs and levels an indignant glare at his brother. “I absolutely have a favorite burger.”

“Then why’d you get two different kinds?”

"I can like more than one kind of burger, you know!"

Sam snorts. "That's just an excuse to eat more burgers." He spears a forkful of tomato and spinach with a smug little twinkle in his eye.

"It's so not," Dean insists. He gestures at the two wrapped foil rounds in front of him. “These are two unique burgers that both have their own delicious qualities.”

“Really?” Sam’s expression is so pompous Dean kind of wants to throw a french fry at it. Except that would be a waste of a perfectly good fry.

“Yes ‘really.’ Look--” Dean carefully unwraps his first burger. “This is a pickle burger. And not just any ol’ pickle burger. The best, most amazing, and -- dare I say it? -- sexiest pickle burger in the entire continental US.” He smirks as Sam rolls his eyes. “Now I can tell by that condescending look in your eye, you’re wondering, ‘What the hell is so special about a pickle burger? It’s just pickles!’ But that’s where you’re wrong.” Dean lifts the top bun and points down to the burger, looking almost gleeful at all its toppings. “Fried pickles, pickled red onions, relish…Sour and sweet and crunchy, the perfect compliment to a juicy, meaty burger. And one this big? You’ve gotta have a little something special to handle all this meat.” Sam tilts his head, his mouth twitching like Dean said something embarrassing. Was it waxing poetic about vegetables? Probably. Dean chooses to ignore it.

“Ya know,” he continues, “for the longest time I didn’t think I’d like a pickle burger. For years I’d be at diners and think, ‘...maybe? I dunno. Probably not for me.’” Dean pulls his mouth down into a thoughtful frown and bobs his head to mimic his past thoughts. “And then...I’m not sure, I just figured, why not at least try it? All those burgers I’ve had all over the country; I could at least give it a whirl. And it. Was. Awesome!” Dean gently places the bun back on his burger and gives it a little affectionate pat. “Now I can’t get enough of ‘em.”

Sam's expression does a complicated dance that Dean can't even begin to follow. But it suddenly clears into a look of dawning realization, followed quickly by horrified guilt, before it clamps down entirely.

Weird.

"Well...I can't fault someone for enjoying a good pickle burger," Sam says slowly. He doesn't meet Dean's eye, keeping his gaze down as he delicately stabs at his salad with his fork. He frowns at the cucumber slice he spears and carefully dislodges it from the prongs. "Especially if they really like, uh, pickles?" Sam cringes a little down at his greens. Dean can't blame him. It's a sad looking salad.

"Exactly!" Dean gestures down at the burger. "I'm a meat man and a pickle guy." Sam looks up toward the sky and then down toward the ground below with a sort of pleading desperation. "This is a great burger for me. And don't even get me started on the sauce--"

"Okay!" Sam's voice pitches up several octaves. Dean frowns at him, but before he can ask, Sam takes a deep breath and plasters a warm, understanding smile across his face. "You know what? You're right, Dean. After all this time. All those, uh...burgers. I'm glad you've figured out which one you like best."

"Well, not quite. I mean, this one…" Dean carefully unwraps the second burger. "Is there anything sexier than a breakfast burger?" He practically beams down at the golden-brown bun, the fringes of fried egg drooping over the side, crisp bacon peeking out from under the patty.

"I...I don't know?" Sam has the same terrified expression as when Dean drags him onto ramshackle roller coasters at crappy county fairs. God, he's such a baby about cholesterol.

“Yeah. C’mon, you know they’re great!” Dean says cavalierly, because he’s not going to miss a chance to gloat about the awesome food Sam misses out on with all his salads. “Bacon is, you know, bacon! It’s the best tasting thing in the world! Salty, greasy, crunchy…”

Sam’s brow furrows so deeply it’s like it’s mining for coal, his unfocused eyes searching the empty space between them like he’s trying to figure out the deep, dark mystery of bacon.

Dean rolls his eyes. Of course he wouldn’t understand. The dude eats low sodium turkey bacon. "I know you haven't had good, real bacon in ages--" Sam looks offended. Then confused. Then offended again. "--but trust me, man. It's awesome. When ya got bacon in your burger, it automatically makes the burger a hundred times better. Can’t get enough of it!” Sam groans like he's in pain.

Dean grins and keeps going. “And you’ve gotta admit, a fried egg is a thing of beauty. Give me a good silky, drippy egg all over my burger and I’m a happy guy.” Sam’s nose scrunches up into abject horror. “You get that gorgeous, soft yolk oozing everywhere...It’s creamy and delicious and unctuous and--”

“Dean!” Sam shrieks. He lets his fork fall into his bowl and covers his face with both his hands. His voice is muffled, but it’s definitely a tormented whine. “I know this is a tough topic for you, but can you please just say you’re bi and never use words like ‘unctuous’ again? I’m begging you!”

Dean freezes. “Wh-What?” Did Sam really--? He--? How does he know?!

Sam pops up from his elbows, dragging both hands through his hair as he frees his face from hiding. “I get it, dude. Okay? I get it. I mean...I don’t get it.” He glances down at the two burgers with a perturbed look and holds up his hands in surrender. “But I get it.”

Dean stares at him. “Get what?” he demands. His heart is pounding fast. Bi. Sam knows he’s bi. When did he figure it out?! Why’s he bringing it up now?!

Sam fixes him with a flat look. “The burgers? The...God...bacon sex metaphor? The pickle guy thing? I get it. Please. Please stop talking about eggs like that. I’ll never eat an omelette again!”

Sex metaphors? Pickle guy?! Dean takes a moment to think and...yeah. Yup. He really did say “I’m a pickle guy,” out loud. Wow.

Maybe he should just...roll with it?

Because otherwise Sam is definitely going to mock him for that for the rest of his life, and honestly, coming out is the much better option.

“You got me,” Dean says with a small laugh. He spreads his arms out with a bit of a flourish, and it’s a relief to say it. It feels good. “What can I say? I like all kinds of burgers. And hotdogs. Tacos. Kielbasa...”

“Please stop,” Sam groans, rubbing at his eyes with his hand.

Oh yeah, this is definitely the better option. Dean fell ass-backwards into a conversation he’s been dreading for months, and the only person feeling awkward and miserable here is Sam!

Really it’s a win-win.

Dean grins from ear to ear as he relishes Sam’s mortification. “Hey now, I thought you were supportive! What happened to ‘I’m happy for you and your burgers?’”

“I am happy for you, I just wish this wasn’t happening over lunch…” Sam whines as he drops his hands on the table.

“What’s Sam happy about?” Cas asks, startling the both of them by approaching their picnic table. His eyes are earnest and sincerely curious, which only causes Sam to send a miserable, pleading look his way while shaking his head.

“Sam thinks pickles are gay,” Dean says to Cas with the same sort of smug glee of the teacher’s pet tattling about note passing in class.

Cas scrunches his face in confusion as he sits down beside Dean. “Sam, that’s...nonsensical.”

“That’s what I said!” Dean lies, because the way Sam’s eyebrow is twitching right now is too damn funny. “Wait til you hear what he thinks about bacon.”

Sam drops his face into his hands again. “This is the worst day of my life,” he groans as he massages his temples with his fingers.

Cas furrows his brow at him. “You’ve been to Hell.”

“And I’m still there, apparently!” Sam flings his hand up in exasperation. Cas quietly takes a sip of Dean’s drink, which for some reason just pisses Sam off more.

“You know, you could have just been normal about this. No weird, gross food metaphors. Just--” Sam drops his voice several octaves and bobs his head in a deliberately annoying parody of Dean. “--‘Hey Sam, by the way, I’m bi and totally in love with Cas, no big deal,’ or whatever.”

Dean goes still while Cas tilts his head at the two of them.. “Who says I’m in love with Cas?” Wait. Is that obvious too? Shit, well, looks like he gets to rip two bandaids off today. Thank God for the hilarious panic on Sam's face, because otherwise Dean would be the one freaking out here.

Sam’s eyes go huge, all color draining out of his face. “Oh shit. I didn’t-- I’m sorry, I--”

Dean can only manage to maintain the ruse for a few seconds before he bursts out laughing. “Nah, I’m just messing with you. Where have you been, man? Cas and I have been together for ages. I thought you were the smart one!”

Sam looks like he wants to leap across the picnic table and strangle Dean.

With a glare so sour it could peel paint, Sam snatches Dean’s extra large order of french fries and storms off toward the car to sulk. About three paces away, he stops, turns around, and levels a stern finger at Dean alongside his scowl. “For the record. I’m proud of you. And I’m honored you chose to trust me with this information,” he hisses in a frustrated huff before he spins on his heel and marches away.

Dean wipes a tear from his eye, still chuckling under his breath. Cas stares after Sam in concern.

“Why is he so mad?”

Dean shrugs off the question as he slides the pickle burger in front of Cas and nudges him with his elbow to try it. “Hell if I know. If you ask me, dude needs to have a burger every once in awhile.”

[pregnant-piggy]

Oliebollen

Remus Lupin x reader

this is written for All I want for Christmas is fanfiction

words: 1.3k

A/N: for the people who don’t know what oliebollen are, it’s something that Dutch people eat at new year’s eve. It’s sort of a doughnut but in the shape of a ball and tastes different. Great explanation, Dev... Anyway maybe the fic will explain it better!

‘Remus, come look! My aunt sent me the recipe!’

You stood in the kitchen of your little cottage with a letter in your hand. Outside the wind was howling around the trees, playing with the very few leafs that were left. The skies outside were dark and it looked like it could rain any minute.

After some stumbling from upstairs, Remus entered the kitchen curiously. After you had told him about the traditional Dutch food your aunt used to make for New Years, he had been so curious that you had sent a letter to your aunt to send you the recipe of the so-called ‘oliebollen’.

Now you had gotten a letter back and after a detailed description of her Christmas was the recipe. It had been a long time since you had helped her made the oliebollen, but as you read the recipe memories of sticky batter and hot boiling oil came back to you.

Remus looked over your shoulder at the piece of paper in your hand and you could sense how he was raising his eyebrow. You turned around to him as he read the last lines.

‘It’s kind of like doughnuts, isn’t it?’ he asked, scanning the paper again.

You nodded and gave the paper to Remus while you searched for the ingredients. ‘Kinda, but it tastes completely different. And looks different,’ you said, looking for the yeast in the top cabinet over the sink. ‘Where’s the yeast? I really thought I bought it.’

Remus chuckled and stood behind you. He rested his hands on your hips while he looked over your head in the cabinet. Your back was pressed against his chest and you could feel his heartbeat through his jumper. He stood on his toes and the grip on your hips got harder.

‘It’s in the far back,’ he said and let go of you. You leaned on the counter with both your hands and lifted yourself to your toes. The yeast was in the right corner of the cabinet, hidden half behind a container of flour.

Once all the ingredients were weighed and stood ready for use on the counter, it was time to start on the oliebollen. The whole kitchen was filled with pots and there was not much room to actually work on the counter, but the sphere in the kitchen was cosy. Soft tunes of old music sounded from the radio in the windowsill. It had started to rain outside and little drops stuck to the glass of the window, racing to get to the bottom first.

‘Mix the yeast and sugar in the milk and let it rest for a few minutes.’

Remus added the little yeast and sugar into a bowl of milk and stirred so the dry ingredients were absorbed by the milk. The milk turned a little darker in colour and miniscule brown flakes floated in the bowl.

‘Sieve the flour and add a pinch of salt,’ you said and Remus followed your instructions. ‘Next add the milk with yeast and sugar to the flour and mix to a sticky batter.’

Little lumps of flour and milk formed as soon as the milk was added to the bowl with flour. With a spoon the batter was mixed until all the lumps had disappeared and the batter stuck to the spoon. The stuff was all over Remus’ fingers when he tried to clean the spoon and you giggled as you watched him trying to get rid of the batter.

‘Well you try it!’ he cried out when he noticed your snickers. ‘It won’t let go!’

You smiled and took the spoon from Remus. You dipped it in some flour and then scraped the leftover batter from his fingers. Because of the flour the batter didn’t stick to the spoon and it fell into the bowl. Remus looked impressed at you and you shook your head.

‘I’ve done this before, darling,’ you said and pressed a kiss to Remus’ cheek. ‘Okay, what’s next?  Add one egg and mix till smooth.’

Remus cracked an egg on the side of the bowl and added it to the batter. After a few minutes of intensive mixing the batter was smooth and soft. The light smell of the yeast and flour with the milk and eggs took you back to when you were younger and you used to make oliebollen with your aunt.

‘Cover the bowl with a damp dishtowel and let it rest for an hour until it has grown twice in size.’

While the batter rested in the windowsill you cleaned the kitchen. While you got rid of the flour on the counter, Remus put on a kettle for tea. The sound of the water slowly boiling accompanied by the sound of the rain hitting the window was the only sound in the kitchen.

- - - - - - 

After an hour the batter had grown so much it had reached the dishtowel. If you pushed your finger into the bump that it had formed, the batter bounced back lightly and stuck to your finger.

A pot of hot oil had already been set on the fire. The oil was boiling hot and little bubbles rose to the surface on occasion. You dipped two spoon into the oil and took a scoop out of the bowl with batter. For as much as was possible with two spoons, little balls were formed that were then dropped into the hot oil. It sizzled and bubbled and the ball dropped to the bottom, only to come back to the surface after a while. You waited until one side was golden brown and then you flipped the oliebol in the oil, letting the other side get brown too. Once both sides were equally golden you took the ball out of the oil and let it rest on a plate covered with a sheet of kitchen paper, that absorbed some of the excessive oil.

It looked quite simple, but the execution proved different. Remus struggled and the first ball he made was more of a misshapen lump, but it was brown on all sides. At the next one you took his hands and helped him with the balls, just like your aunt had done when you had been a kid.

It took four weird shaped oliebollen for Remus to finally get the tactic, but in the end he managed to do just fine and his final ones even looked like yours.

‘I told you you could do it!’ you exclaimed happily as he put the final oliebol on the plate. Remus smiled blushingly at you and you wrapped your arms around his neck. You nuzzled your nose in his neck and the scent of frying oil and oliebollen took you back to your younger years.

‘How long does it take before this smell gets out of the house?’ Remus asked as he opened a window. You sat down on a chair and shrugged.

‘Usually a few days, but we should keep the door closed if we don’t want the smell in the rest of the house.’

Remus sat down next to you and sighed content. All over his jumper were stains and smudges of flour. There was even a smudge on his cheek. You chuckled and wiped the flour off his face.

‘Come on, let’s taste one,’ you said and took two of the misshapen oliebollen. The ball was crunchy on the outside and moist on the inside.

It was silent in the room as you and Remus ate the oliebollen. Only after you finished you spoke again.

‘I like them,’ Remus said and he nodded approvingly.

‘They might look like turds, but taste delicious,’ you said and smiled at Remus. ‘Not bad for an amateur.’

- - - - - - - - - 

taglists

General HP: @kitkatkl​ @girllety​ @yuptha-tsme​ @sleep-i-ness​ @iamak20​ @thefuturelawyer​ @weasleydream​ @missmulti​ @deafgirltingz​ @moonstarrnghtsky​ @mytreec​ @lilulo-12fanfiction​ @emmaloo21​ @kashishwrites​ @ananad1​ @figlia--della--luna​ @kylosleftbuttcheek​ @mrs-malfoy-always​ @thefandomplace​ @magicwithaknife​ @mt2413​ @aesthetically-hailey​ @superbturtlemakerathlete​ @the-natureofme​ @missswriter​ @hahee154hq​ @chloer1275​

Marauders: @secretsthathauntus​ @ronniethelost​ @hxrgreeves​ @wecouldbreakthedistance​ @valentina-007​ @aspiringsloth20​

Remus Lupin: @racerparker​ @susceptible-but-siriusexual

MASTERLIST

[gabriel-agreste-has-no-rights]

Rating: G

Summary: When Marinette has to cook for her family reunion, Adrien offers to help. Only one problem: he has no idea how to cook. With Plagg's help, Adrien proposes a Disney-inspired solution that will either keep him from making a fool of himself, or backfire terribly. (Spoiler alert: it backfires terribly.) A university-aged Adrinette reveal fic.

Word Count: 6437

XXX

“Plagg, what am I going to do?  I don’t know how to cook!”  Adrien pulled at his hair as he paced circles around his apartment.

Plagg, meanwhile, lazily hovered with his paws crossed behind his head.  “Maybe you should’ve thought about that before you tried to swoop in like some kind of superhero.”

“I am a superhero.”  Not that it mattered, because his superpower was destruction. Maybe his Lady would’ve been able to help Marinette cook dinner for her family reunion, but Adrien was … well.  Even though the cat miraculous didn’t actually make him more disaster prone, he had enough bad luck in the kitchen on his own.  He’d survived on spaghetti and takeout since moving into his own apartment this semester.

“Why don’t you just tell her you can’t do it?  Something came up.  You fell headfirst into a pool of cream cheese.  You got zapped by an akuma and all your hair fell out.”

“That hasn’t happened in at least a month.  Besides, I can’t flake out on Marinette.  She needs me.”  He stood up straighter.

“What she needs is someone who won’t turn soup into an explosive.  What about your friend Alya?  Isn’t her mom some kind of chef?”

“She’s out of town for Christmas.  Nino too, or I’d ask him to help me.”  Did he know anyone else who could teach him how to cook in one night?  Kagami was back in Japan, Chloe wouldn’t touch an oven to save her life, Luka was on tour with XY… Ladybug was pretty much his only friend still in town.  She would probably be willing to teach him, but on their last patrol she’d mentioned she’d be busy the next few days with her own plans.

“You need to get some more friends, kid.”

“It’s kind of late for that,” Adrien murmured.  Too many people in his classes were more interested in the Gabriel name than in him.  Besides, he might not have made a lot of new friends, but he’d gotten much closer to Marinette and his old friends now that he had more control over his schedule.  

“Well, as your very first and best friend—”

“Chloe was technically my first friend.”

Plagg glared.  “As your first and best friend, I will help you for the low low price of two wheels of Camembert.”

Adrien stopped pacing.  He only realized he’d ended up in the bathroom when he caught a glimpse of his reflection.

“Wait.  You know how to cook?”

Plagg scoffed.  “I’ve been alive since the dawn of time.  I’ve picked up a thing or two.”

Adrien raised an eyebrow.  “You also thought that my blender was a jet tub for kwamis.”

“Okay, so you humans have invented some fancy new gadgets since I was last out, big deal.  I still know more about cooking than you.”

Unfortunately, he was probably right.

“Alright.  Deal.”  Adrien held out a finger, and he and Plagg shook on it.

“Alright, loverboy, let’s get cooking.”

XXX

“No, not like that!  What are you trying to do, knock someone out with that thing?”

“At least I wouldn’t do it with the smell!”  Adrien instinctively waved the frying pan in front of his nose, and the burned remnants of roux glopped out onto the tile.

“Coward.  It’ll taste good once you put it all together.”

Adrien wasn’t convinced.  But then again, he hadn’t followed Plagg’s instructions exactly.  Plagg never gave him quite enough time to pour the ingredients in the pan or measure the spices with the little spoons.  

“I wish you’d be able to help me while I’m there.”  Adrien sighed.  “I’m going to forget all of this as soon as I leave.”

“You can’t be good at everything, I guess.”  Plagg shrugged.  “You can still always call your girlfriend and say you gave up.”

“She’s a good friend.  We’ve been over this.”  He’d promised not to call Marinette ‘just a friend’ on the grounds that she deserved better than that.  But she still wasn’t his girlfriend.  Which was fine, so why did his stomach sink slightly?  Probably just nervousness about the task ahead of him.  

“And I’m not giving up.  What if you just … hid in my hair and whispered advice?”

Plagg tapped his chin.  “Maybe if you wear a hat …” A grin suddenly split his tiny face.  “Hey, what if you wore that ug—uh, that beret Ladybug gave you?  You know, from your fan club?”

“Great idea!”  Adrien bolted out of the bathroom and towards his closet.  He wore the hat every once in a while—its ridiculous energy was too good to leave hidden like it had been in lycée.  He made a special point of wearing it to every meeting with his dad, though he did feel a little bit nervous of wearing it around Marinette.  She was in their university’s design program; she’d probably think it was tacky.

Oh well.  He’d probably been tackier around her before.

“You sure you’ll fit in here?”  Adrien squinted at the underside of the beret before pulling it over his hair.

“Looks cozy enough to me.”  Plagg slipped under, and Adrien felt him shuffle around. Unfortunately, his voice was too muffled for Adrien to make out after that.

“Plagg?”

“Blegh.”  The kwami scrambled back out and scraped his tongue with his paws.  “Your hair tastes like shampoo.  I can’t talk without getting a mouthful of it.”

“Guess that isn’t going to work …” He pursed his lips as he adjusted the beret.  “It’s too bad real life isn’t like Ratatouille. You could just tug on my hair and do all the cooking for me.”

Unless …?

“Oh no, don’t give me that look.”  Plagg crossed his arms.  “That’s just a movie.  Though it would be nice to show you what it feels like to get dragged around for a change …”

“It’s worth a shot, isn’t it?”  Adrien didn’t really think it would work either, but Plagg was magic.  

“Fine.  But I��m upping my price to three wheels.”

Plagg slipped back under the beret, and Adrien felt a tugging sensation on his scalp.  But nothing seemed to happen.

“Guess that was a pretty dumb idea,” he admitted sheepishly.

Then green light crackled from his ring.  

His arms flung into the air.

“Ack!  Plagg, did you do that?”  

Adrien heard a muffled cackle from under the hat.  Then his legs started walking towards the refrigerator.

“Okay, so this is … working?  This is working!”

Plagg missed a few times before guiding his hand to pull open the fridge.  Of course, his next step was to reach for a wedge of Camembert and hold it up to his head.

“The sweet taste of victory,” Plagg said while popping out to swallow the wedge whole.

“More like the rotten taste of old cheese.”

But Adrien still grinned.  However Plagg had pulled off his puppeteer trick, Adrien wasn’t going to make a fool of himself tomorrow.

XXX

“Adrien!”  Marinette threw her arms around him as soon as she opened the door.  “Thank goodness you’re here. My parents just called and they got a last-minute order and—eep!”  She sprung back, her eyes wide as she stared at his beret.

“Come on, it’s not that bad.”  He rubbed the back of his neck, trying not to feel embarrassed.  Marinette wouldn’t judge him based on what he wore.  “It was an old gift.  I like that it drives my father crazy.”

Plus, Ladybug had hand-delivered it, but she probably didn’t care about that.

“W-well then, it’s perfect.”  She grinned too wide.  “I just don’t think I’ve ever seen you in a hat before.”

“You’ve definitely—”

“Anyway, no time for that!  There’s only five hours before Uncle Wang gets here. Nonna is already at my parent’s, and my other grandma and grandpa are coming for the first time since Mom moved here.  Not to mention fourteen of my cousins I’ve never met and their parents!”  Marinette rushed towards the small kitchen, which was already full of steaming pots and used pans. She threw on her pink oven mitts and pulled a tray of golden-brown pastries out of the oven.

Adrien swallowed.  Marinette’s kitchen might look like a war zone, but she clearly knew what she was doing.  What if he just got in the way?

“How did you end up in charge of the food?”  he asked while throwing on a mint-green apron from inside the pantry door.  Her great-uncle was a world-class chef, and her parents owned a bakery.  Her grandpa Rolland had even taught mice how to bake.  

“I’m not in charge.  I just need to help a little since Uncle Wang is running late, and the reunion starts tonight, and Grandpa won’t bake anything in bulk because ‘that’s not how it’s done’’—she used a gruff imitation of his voice—“and my parents have so much bakery work to do. I’m just trying to do what I can.”

She sighed as she stirred a pot of wonton soup.  “Unfortunately, I can’t do a lot.”

“What are you talking about?  It looks like you could feed an army with all this.”  

He carefully dodged Marinette as she scrambled in a drawer for a fork.  She tested the rice noodles boiling behind the soup, then grimaced and slumped against the counter, fork nearly slipping from her fingers. Her hair was falling out of her bun, and flour smudged her pink apron, contrasting with the splatters of dark sauce.

“I hope so.  There’s just … so much to live up to, you know?  Everyone on both sides of my family cooks.  And now I have to merge styles from two different cultures in a way that will please everyone …”

Her gaze swept across the counter, where dumplings and quiches, brothy soups and thin crêpes—even ratatouille, ironically—lay in various stages of completion. The savory and sweet fragrances somehow melded together in harmony.

“I know I can’t understand how hard that must be. About trying to bridge two different sides of your family, I mean.  But you’re amazing, Marinette.” He stepped closer to her and brushed a streak of flour off of her cheek. “You’ve already worked so hard on all this; I can’t see how anyone wouldn’t love it.  May I?”

He gestured to a spoon sitting in one of the soups, and she nodded.  He raised it to his lips and sipped the tangy broth.  A bit of crunchy bamboo shoot added texture to the savory liquid.  He didn’t want to eat too much—it was for her family, not him—but if it weren’t for that, he could’ve downed the whole bowl.  He could practically taste the love and care she’d put into it.

“See? Amazing.”  He grinned.  “Just like the rest of the food we’re going to make.”

At least, the food she made would be amazing.  He just hoped that what he made with Plagg’s help would be edible.  And not offend her family.

Her lips parted before curving into a smile.  “Right.  Thank you, Adrien.”

She paused, staring for a moment, until one of the shallow pots started bubbling over.

“Ack!  The filling!”

She rushed to switch off the burner and remove the lid before sighing loudly.  “I think it’s still alright.  Now I just need to fold this into the dough …”

“Can I help with that?”  he asked, feeling like a rock in the middle of a river as Marinette flowed between the cooking stations around him.

“Huh?  Oh—um, why don’t you work on filling the crêpes instead?  This baozi is a Chinese dish, and it’s my first time making it by myself.  Not that I don’t appreciate the offer!  You were so sweet to come at all, and—”

“Marinette.”  He squeezed her shoulder gently, wishing he could relieve some ot the tension there.  “I’ll do the crêpes.” 

She let out a breath.  “Thanks.  I was going to do a pear-hazelnut filling, if you’re okay with that?  The pears are in the bottom right drawer of the fridge, and the hazelnuts are on the middle shelf in the panty.  All the spices are up there.”  She pointed to the cabinet above the sink.

“Sounds perfect,” he said with the fake confidence he usually saved for his modeling jobs.

Before he could ask for a recipe, she went back to work, leaving him to his own devices in front of a stack of unfilled crêpes.  A mixture of the rich smells and his own nerves started to turn his stomach.

“Are you ready, Plagg?”  he whispered, adjusting his beret.

In response, his scalp twinged, and then his hand rose and formed a thumbs-up.

“Well, here we go.”  He cracked his knuckles.  

He rinsed out a pan that it looked like Marinette had previously used for some kind of stir fry.  That wouldn’t be a problem, would it?  It looked like every other pan in the apartment was in use already.  

Marinette didn’t stop to correct him.  Then again, she seemed to be in ten places at once, adding spices and stirring and adjusting dials and rummaging through cupboards, all in between filling her baozi.  Watching her work was so mesmerizing it was almost too easy to ignore his own job.

Until Plagg started tugging his hair again, anyway.

This is going to be weird, he thought while Plagg directed his hands to chop the pears.  He was pretty sure he could’ve done that himself—he didn’t want his kwami chopping off one of his fingers.  But resisting at this point would just increase his chances of accidentally getting stabbed.

Besides, Plagg was fast. He diced the five pears in the time it probably would’ve taken Adrien to cut up one.  Granted, he also left a juicy mess on the counter, but it sounded like they were on too much of a deadline to worry about that.

Plagg tossed them into the pan, cores and all.  Adrien frowned at that.

“I hope you know what you’re doing,” he muttered.

“What?”  Marinette asked from where she was stretching out dough.

“Um, nothing!  I just, uh, talk to myself while I cook.”

“Oh, me too.  I was just trying not to do it in front of you.  You know, in case I sounded crazy.”  She laughed, seeming to release a little bit of tension. “I think I picked it up from my mom.  She always says the steps out loud as she does them so she doesn’t forget which one she’s on.”

He smiled at the image of her doing this with Mrs. Cheng.  “Did you cook with your mom a lot?”

“I don’t think I’d say a lot.  I was pretty busy in lycée, and I didn’t appreciate her culture as much as I do now.  I wish I would’ve learned more.”

“It looks like you learned a lot if you can put all this together.”

She brushed a strand of hair behind her ear.  “Thanks.  That means a lot.”

He retrieved the hazelnuts and tossed them into the pan.  She still had her back to him, the baozi taking up most of her attention.  Should he ask her to check his work so far?  Plagg didn’t hesitate to nab some spices from the high cabinet and start sprinkling them into the pan.

“Wait—not that one!” he hissed, trying to drop the shaker that read chili powder before Plagg could add it.

“Adrien?  Is something wrong?”

He spun, quickly shoving the container behind his back.  “No!  Everything’s just peachy—er, pear-y.”

She giggled at his joke, even though it had to be one of his lamest puns yet.

“Okay, but you can let me know if you need help.  Sorry I just kind of threw you into this.”  Her arm gently brushed his as she dialed back the heat on the noodles.  “Um—is there a reason you’re holding chili powder?” 

“I was just moving it so I could reach the, uh…”

Plagg helpfully directed his arm towards a different spice.

“... garlic salt?”

Marinette blinked, and he hastily shoved the garlic salt back, selecting cinnamon instead.  He should’ve known that trusting the kwami who liked eating rotten cheese would be a mistake.

“You’re so funny, Adrien.”  She laughed again.  “But, um, you might want to double check your pears.  I think some of those still have the cores in them.”

His face flushed.  Thanks a lot, Plagg.

He picked out the cores with a pair of tongs, hoping that his kwami wouldn’t try to take over again.  Adrien might be bad at cooking, but at least he wasn’t going to try and poison Marinette’s family.

Unfortunately, he didn’t have much idea of what to do next.  He’d turned the burner on high, and the pears were starting to sizzle.  How did nuts cook?  That didn’t make a lot of sense to him.  He probably needed something liquidy to go with them, right?

Aaaand the pears already smelled like they were burning.  He quickly flipped back the knob while he searched for something to turn into a sauce.  Milk?  That would make it nice and creamy, right?

He grabbed the half-gallon from the fridge and splashed a bit into the pan.  Drops splattered the counter, and he winced.

That was when Plagg again decided to take over.  Adrien grit his teeth as he selected the block of muenster from the cheese drawer.  That definitely didn’t belong in the crêpe filling, but Adrien couldn’t get him to stop without making a scene in front of Marinette.  Who would then wonder why he was yelling at himself, and either think he was insane or find out his secret identity.  Both of which would be unacceptable.

He growled, hoping Plagg would get the message.  If he did, he didn’t show it.  At least Marinette didn’t hear over her own soft humming.

The sliced cheese went into the pan, plopping wetly in the milk.  Maybe the finished product would surprise him, and cheese and pears would create a tasty sweet-savory combo, and Marinette would be super impressed by his originality, and she’d invite him over to cook with him again, and they’d make a cute romantic dinner together …

He banished that daydream before he could think too much of it.

By that point Plagg was using his arm to whisk the milk and melting cheese together.  The pears and hazelnuts had settled to the bottom of the pan.  He frowned as the whisk failed to unstick them.

“This isn’t working,” he said under his breath.  “We might need to start over.”

He swore he could hear Plagg’s irritated sigh.  But the kwami jerked the pan up, taking it towards the sink.

“Hey, what are you—Plagg!”  he shouted before he could stop himself.

Plagg dropped the pan in the sink, spraying hot milk-cheese-pear slime all over the backsplash.  And all over Adrien’s apron.  

And, most importantly, all over his face.

“Adrien!”  Marinette dropped her unfinished dumpling back on the counter.  Filling spilled out as she rushed to his side.  “Are you okay?  What happened?”

He hurriedly tried to splash cold water on his face, but spilled it more down his shirt than anything.  She offered him a damp hand towel, which was much more helpful.

“I’m so sorry.”  His face still burned, but not from the hot food.

“It’s okay!  Accidents happen—trust me, I would know.”  She smiled before her eyes widened.  “Oh no, your beret!”

“What?”  He slapped his hands to his head, prompting a tiny yelp from Plagg.  So he was still there.  Under his hat.  Which was still on his head. Phew.

“It’s got milk on it.” Marinette reached up like she intended to take it off.

“No!”  he shouted, and she stepped back, startled.

“S-sorry!  I just thought I’d help you clean it off, since it seems so, um, important to you.”

“I like it with the milk on it.  It adds, uh, character?”

He heard Plagg snicker from beneath the beret.

“Are you sure you’re okay?”  she asked.  “If you need to take a break, or, um, get a new shirt … n-not that I want you to take off your shirt!  Uh—forget I said that.”

She shook her head, and more strands fell out of her bun.

He frowned down at his shirt.  Unfortunately, the splatter had made it under his apron, and his shirt was pretty gross.  He even felt a slimy pear sliding down under his collar.

“I’m okay,” he said.  “Finishing all the food for your reunion is more important.”

“No, don’t worry.  I can handle it.  Just having you here to keep me from freaking out has helped more than you know.”

She took the towel back from him with a smile.  Frankly, he was still surprised she wasn’t angry with him.  He’d come to help, and all he’d done so far was waste her time.

“I’m really not bothering you?”  he asked, rubbing the back of his neck.  Bad idea.  His hands were still a bit wet and sticky.

“You could never bother me, Adrien.”  Her cheeks pinked before she turned back to fiddle with the soup.  

“Really?  I thought …”  He bit his lip, remembering how many times he’d startled Marinette before.  How many times he’d seemed to make her uncomfortable, or awkward, or … he wasn’t really sure what.  There had always been something keeping them apart, no matter how close they became.

Maybe it’s just your little crush, Plagg would’ve teased.  Thankfully, he wasn’t going to talk while trapped under the beret.

“Thought what?”  she asked once she’d added some seasonings to the soup.  

“I thought I’d be your last pick for cooking help,” he said, which wasn’t quite a lie.  “I didn’t want to tell you, but I … well, I don’t really know what I’m doing.”

Best to just admit it now, rather than after he’d ruined her family reunion.  

Marinette blinked before covering her mouth.  “I’m so sorry.  I should’ve known you probably never cooked at your house.  And here I am just asking you to throw together a crêpe filling!”

“It’s okay!  I’m the one who’s sorry.  I should’ve told you, I just … I wanted to impress you.”

Maybe he shouldn’t have admitted that much.  He was sure he heard Plagg laughing from under his hat.

“You … wanted to impress … me?”  She pointed to herself, as if there was anyone else in the kitchen he might have been talking about.

“Is that really so surprising?”

“Uh—yeah, actually.” Marinette stared at him like he’d grown a second head.  Plagg hadn’t peeked out, had he?  “I might be able to cook, but you’re good at everything.  Fencing, basketball, Mandarin—which took me ages to get halfway decent at—not to mention you’re drop-dead gorgeous—”

His heart stopped.  Her eyes nearly bulged out of her head.  

“I mean—you’re a model; of course you’re gorgeous!  It’s literally your job.  I bet people call you gorgeous all the time.” 

“Not when I’m covered in slimy food, though.”  He grinned.  She thought he was drop-dead gorgeous!  Maybe he hadn’t made too much of a mess after all.

“Well—you would be a lot more gorgeous if you took off that stupid beret!”  She pointed at his head.

“W-what?”  He pulled it down over his ears.  “This is my emotional support beret.  I can’t take it off or I’ll cry.”

“Why did you have to pick that one, though?  It’s so—I don’t know!” She gestured vaguely.  “It looks like a fourteen-year-old made it!”

He pouted at her.  “Hey, be nice.  It was probably fashionable in Brazil at the time.”

It did look pretty silly, but that was its appeal.  Fashion-savvy Marinette probably wouldn’t understand that.

“R-right.  In Brazil.”  She shook her head.  “Why do you like it though?”

He blushed.  Aside from spitting in the face of the Gabriel brand, it also reminded him of the day Ladybug had appeared in his room.  That serendipitous event had never happened before or since.

“How embarrassing does it sound if I say my old crush delivered it to me?”

“Your—your crush?”  She blinked.  “But then—you had a crush on Ladybug?”

The soup started bubbling again, but she made no move to quiet it.

“Of course I have a crush on Ladybug.  I’m pretty sure all of Paris has a crush on—wait, how did you know Ladybug was the one to deliver it?”

Marinette’s face went pale.  “I—um, well, I … I think the soup is burning!”

She rushed to stir it again, but Adrien caught her hand.

“Wait, Marinette, please.”  His heart beat faster.  He’d never told anyone about Ladybug’s visit.  She hadn’t been surprised when he mentioned Brazil, either.

But what could he say?  Come out and ask her if she was Ladybug?  That would be too good to be true, right?  Marinette couldn’t be Ladybug; he’d seen them together once.  But he’d pulled crazy stunts to protect his identity too.

She bit her lip, but didn’t pull her hand from his.  

“I can’t answer that question, Adrien.”

It wasn’t a confirmation.  But it wasn’t a denial either.

It had been five years.  Five years, and he still didn’t know who his partner was.  If she was here, in front of him, after all this time …

… he’d still respect her choice not to tell him.  As much as it hurt, he’d do it.

“Alright.”  He sighed.  “I get it.”

An uncomfortable silence pushed between them, punctured only by the bubbling soup and beeping oven.  The first batch of Marinette’s baozi was done; she removed them without speaking.

Why couldn’t they go back to five minutes ago, when she’d called him gorgeous?  He was already thrilled to hear Marinette say that.  But if she was his Lady too?  He’d melt just like that cheese in the pan.

It was going to drive him crazy if he thought about it too long.  He turned on the faucet, hoping that the loud water would drown out his thoughts as he did the dishes.  At least that was one task he could accomplish without ruining any more of Marinette’s food.

“I’m sorry,” she murmured, barely audible over the running tap.

“What for?”  He was the one pushing the boundaries between them.  If she was even Ladybug at all.  Maybe he’d managed to misinterpret everything, but he couldn’t see how.

“For not being honest with you.  I wish I could, I swear.”  Her hands squeezed her dough, and it oozed out between her fingers.

“I’m sure you have your reasons,” he said with resignation.  Ladybug was the Guardian.  She couldn’t risk revealing her identity.  Even if it felt unfair, he should be used to it by now.

But before, you didn’t think Ladybug was one of your best friends.

Even more than that, if he was honest with himself.  He’d wanted to be closer to Marinette for a  long time now.  What if he was just deluding himself with wishful thinking?

“I wish I didn’t, sometimes,” she murmured.

He switched off the faucet and turned to face her.  Maybe some things needed to stay secret, but not everything.

“Marinette?”  He swallowed.

She looked up from where she’d been absently rolling the dough again.  So much for not wasting her time.

“Y-yeah?”

He didn’t expect to confess to her while standing in her kitchen, with Plagg hiding under his old beret, with his clothes covered in the ruined crêpe filling.  But it was important, and if he could finally admit it to himself, the least he could do was admit it to her.

“I don’t just have a crush on Ladybug.”

“You—you don’t?”  

Was it just his imagination, or did she deflate a little?

“She’s still very important to me.  I know she always will be.  But I’ve come to realize how important you are to me, too.”  He watched her face as he spoke, but her wide eyes were impossible to read.  Hopefully he wasn’t ruining everything with what he was about to say.

“I like you, Marinette.  As more than a friend.  And I would never want to make you uncomfortable.  All I’ve ever wanted is to be closer to you.”

For a moment, her face didn’t change.  She just stood there, staring blankly, like someone had pressed a pause button.  He would’ve thought Bunnyx had stopped time to reset his screw-up if it weren’t for the soup continuing to boil over.

“Marinette?”  he prodded, his stomach beginning to bubble as nervously as that soup.  

She jumped.  “Yes, I—comfort you me make—yike lou—”

A stream of incoherent noises followed that.  Oh no, he’d broken her!  Why couldn’t Plagg have taken over and stopped him from talking?  

“—ugh!  I thought I dopped stewing this years ago!”  She dropped her burning face into her hands.

Adrien reached out to touch her shoulder and then thought better of it.  His arm fell limply to his side.

“I’m so sorry.  You can just forget I said anything.  I’ll—I’ll let you finish up the food and get out of your way—”

“No!”  She waved her hands, startling him so bad he stepped back—and slipped in a puddle of spilled dishwater.

“Adrien!”  She caught the front of his apron as he fell, but that just meant she was pulled down on top of him.

He yelped as his head cracked against the linoleum.  At least she landed on his chest, his arms cradling her.

“Oh my gosh, I’m so sorry—AAAAAH!”

“What, what!?”  He sat up as she scrambled off of him.

That was when he caught sight of the striped beret lying in the puddle next to him.

Oh no.

Plagg laughed nervously from where he was tangled in Adrien’s hair.  “Hey, Pigtails.”

“Chat?”  Marinette smacked her hands to her cheeks.  “You’re—you’re Chat Noir?” 

“Surprise!”  Plagg wasn’t in Adrien’s line of sight, but he could hear the grin in his kwami’s voice.

“Where’s Bunnyx when you need her?”  Adrien groaned.  Not only was his confession a total bust, but he also ended up giving away his most important secret.

And he still didn’t know for sure that she was Ladybug.

“You’re Chat Noir.”  Marinette plopped down into the puddle beside him.  “Adrien is Chat Noir.”

“Yeah, yeah, we got that,” Plagg said.  “Are you gonna put the poor kid out of his misery or not?”

“Huh?”  She blinked.

“He’s in love with you.  Hopelessly, stupidly in love with you.  He loves you almost as much as I love cheese.”

That was a pretty big point in favor of Marinette being Ladybug. He guessed he should count himself lucky, but that also meant he’d just slipped and fallen in dirty dishwater in front of not only Marinette, but Ladybug.

He closed his eyes.  “Plagg, please let me die in peace.”  

“... Adrien?”

He felt her breath fan over his face, and his eyes back snapped open.

Her gray-blue eyes were hovering right above him.  Well, he had said he wanted to be closer to her.

“Y-yeah?”

“Please don’t die,” she said softly.  Her hand came up to cradle the side of his face—or maybe she was just trying to make sure he hadn’t bruised himself. “I l-love you too.”

Every one of his brain cells fizzled out.  She.  Loved him?

“I think I am dead.”  He smiled, reaching his arms around her.  “I’m pretty sure I just went to heaven.”

Her face flushed.  “You’re always going to be that cheesy, aren’t you?”

“Are you really surprised, Princess?”

“No.”  She leaned in, brushing her nose against his.  “I wouldn’t have it any other way.”

“Ew, gross.”  Plagg gagged.  “This isn’t the kind of cheese I signed up for.”

“You’re the one who said she should put me out of my misery.”

“Yeah, well I think you both need to put this food out of its misery.  The soup’s burning.”

Marinette sprung up, eyes wide.  “Oh no!  We still have to get everything ready!  And the crêpe filling isn’t done and I haven’t finished the baozi—” 

“It’s okay!  We can still get it all done … somehow.”  Adrien winced as he stood up.  Now they were both covered in a mix of dishwater and crêpe filling.  “Just keep Plagg away from it all.  He’s the reason I ruined the pears.  Oh, and he’s the reason I was wearing that beret, too.”

She went back to work as if nothing had changed between them.  It was honestly kind of amazing how quickly she had the noodles and soup under control, like she hadn’t just been freaking out moments before.  

“He’s got as awful taste in fashion as he does in food?”  she asked.

“No—well, probably, but that’s not important.  The beret was to hide him so he could help me cook.  Like in Ratatouille.”

She blinked.  “That works?”

“It would work better if my kwami knew how to cook, but yeah.”

“Hmm …”  She tapped her lips—lips he would hopefully be able to kiss once all this was taken care of, he thought with a giddy grin—before snapping her fingers.  “That’s it!  I can’t believe I didn’t think of it before!”

“What’s it?  Wait—Marinette, where are you going?”

“You’ll see!”  She winked before disappearing behind her bedroom door.

He gave the soup a careful stir while waiting for her to come back.

“You’re welcome.”  Plagg crossed his arms and smirked irritatingly.

“For what?” Adrien scowled.  “All you did was give away my identity and embarrass me in front of the love of my life!”

“Love of your life?”  Marinette appeared behind him.

He nearly knocked over the pot of soup.  It was what he deserved for startling her so much back in lycée, he guessed.

Plagg snickered.  “Bold words coming from the guy who called her a good friend earlier.”

“She is a good friend!  And the love of my life!  She’s Ladybug, Plagg!”

He pointed to the giant red-and-black egg in Marinette’s arms.  The Miracle Box.  She was Ladybug!

“You didn’t know that when you said it five seconds ago,” Plagg pointed out.

“Yeah, well—I guessed it,” he huffed.  

It had been the only answer that made sense.  And it was true.  Hopefully he could blame the tears pricking his eyes on the onion in the soup.  If not, though, crying over his amazing partner (who loved him!) was probably still the least embarrassing thing he’d done today.

Tikki poked her head out of a cookie jar.  By now he’d been startled so many times that her presence hardly registered.

“Don’t worry, Adrien.  Marinette has said way more embarrassing stuff than that.”

“Which we won’t repeat in front of him,” Marinette said dangerously.

His head was still spinning from all the revelations.  Of course, he wasn’t too surprised—who else but Marinette was amazing enough to be Ladybug?—but it was still a lot to take in at once.

“While I definitely want to hear about that later, what’s the Miracle Box out for?  Is there a kwami of cooking?  Or do you think Sass could give us a Second Chance on all this mess?”  he asked, trying to bring his focus back to the problem at hand.

“What you said about Plagg gave me an idea.”  She punched in a code on the spots, and the egg cracked open to reveal the miraculouses.  “He might not know how to cook, but I’m sure some of the other kwamis do.  And if not, I’m sure they can follow directions.”

“Great idea, Marinette!”  Tikki clapped.  “Wayzz and Pollen are pretty good at cooking, from what I remember.  Orikko is too, but you shouldn’t cook chicken in front of him.”

“Makes sense.”  Adrien nodded before turning to Marinette.  “You think they’ll be enough to make up for how badly I messed up?”

“Of course they will.  We’re Ladybug and Chat Noir; there’s no mess we can’t fix.”  She smiled as she equipped the bracelet and hair comb, then passed the Miracle Box to him.  “Have Tikki help you pick out a few more kwamis.  Together we’ll get this done in time. I know it.”

Relief washed over him, and he smiled back.

“As you wish, My Lady.”

XXX

“You’re sure I won’t be intruding?”  Adrien asked as they pulled up to her parents’ bakery.

“Of course not.  There’s no way my family would leave out my boyfriend.”  She shifted her tupperware to her other arm and reached up to adjust his (newly cleaned) beret.  “Even if he has terrible fashion sense.”

“It’s a Marinette original!  There’s nothing more fashionable than that!”

“An original from when I was fourteen!”  she pouted.

“It’s too late, Bugaboo. I’m never taking it off.”  He kissed her forehead.

“I’ll make you a new one.  Anything would be better than mixing lacy hearts and stripes.”

“I guess that’s fair.  But I’ll still treasure this one forever.”

She rolled her eyes affectionately as she pushed open the bakery door.

Not long after, Adrien, Marinette, and her family were settled around the dining room table, a feast of French and Chinese cuisine in front of them. The two sides of her family mingled, mixing as seamlessly as the dishes.  Rolland was deep in conversation with Wang about traditional cooking techniques in France versus China.  Gina (who’d insisted he just call ‘Grandma’) was regaling two of Marinette’s cousins with tales from her travels.  More of her younger cousins ran around the table, barefoot soles slapping against the hardwood floor, their hands occasionally reaching up to snag a dumpling or croissant.  It was a tight fit, but Adrien didn’t mind.  He was thrilled to be included at all.

While they ate dinner, he kept catching her looking at the hat.  But every time she did, he’d make eye contact with her, and then she’d blush and smile bright enough that it was worth every glare.

“So, what are you up to these days, son?”  Tom asked over his bowl of wonton soup.

Son.  Already, Marinette’s parents felt more like family than his own.  He would love to be part of her family for as long as she would let him.

Hopefully forever.

“Oh, not much.”  He put an arm around Marinette.  “Just learning how to cook from your amazing daughter.”

He winked, and she blushed again.  Red was her color in and out of the suit, it seemed.

“He needs all the help he can get.  You should’ve seen what he almost put in the crêpes today.”

Tom laughed.  “Well, it looks like it all turned out perfect.  Thanks for your help, both of you.”

Under the table, Adrien and Marinette shared a fistbump.  This wasn’t the first adventure they tackled together, and it wouldn’t be the last.

[shimmertrapped]

I’ve Got You - Stiles Stilinski x Reader (6/?)

Summary: After being rescued from an unknown enemy, Y/N and Stiles grow closer whilst dealing with trauma and a lingering threat.  (post-high school AU where Scott, Allison, Stiles, and Y/N are roommates)

Characters: Stiles x Argent!Cousin OC (Reader), Scott x Allison

Word Count: 2567

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The kiss was sweet and didn’t last too long, but when they broke apart, they remained close enough that Y/N could see the flecks in Stiles’ golden-brown eyes.  He kept his hand on her neck, sending a shiver down her spine as his fingers brushed it.

Y/N bowed her head and let out a shaky, breathless laugh.  “Wow.”

“Couldn’t have said it better myself.”

Y/N shot him a playful glare before breaking out into a smile again.  She felt light enough that she could almost forget everything that had happened the last week, and everything that was still going on now.  All that mattered was the boy in front of her who was somehow looking at her the way she had always wanted him to.

“So...” Y/N finally forced herself to say.  “What now?”

“Good question,” Stiles said, looking up at the ceiling. “Not too sure how to proceed from here.”

“Yeah, we kind of skipped a few steps,” Y/N agreed. “Awkward first date, all that jazz...”

Stiles raised a brow in challenge.  “We could still have an awkward first date.”

Y/N glanced away from him then, suddenly jerked back to reality.  Because yes, she only almost forgotten what she had gone through this week.  The thought of leaving the house, knowing that he was still out there somewhere...

Stiles, seeming to sense exactly what thoughts were running through her head, rushed to say, “But we don’t have to go anywhere.”

Y/N gave him a quizzical look.

Stiles held up a finger, then turned his head and cleared his throat, tugging at his shirt collar.  When he looked back, his face bore an exaggeratedly nervous expression.  “Y/N, would you, uh, like to order Chinese take-out with me sometime?”

Y/N stared at him for a moment before bursting out laughing.  She quickly composed herself to play along.  “I would love to, Stiles.  How about tonight?”

He pretended to think for a moment before saying, “Tonight’s great.”

“Perfect,” Y/N grinned.  “It’s a date.”

“Aaah,” Stiles ran a hand through his hair, dropping the act.  “See that’s why I like you.  You’re just as much of a weirdo as I am.”

“I’ll take that as a compliment, Stilinski.”

His eyes seemed to flicker at that.

“But like, we are actually going to order Chinese, right?” Y/N asked.

Stiles straightened, his face utterly serious.  “Oh, definitely. What time is it anyway?”

Y/N glanced over at the clock on the oven.  “Six thirty.”

“Oof.  No wonder I’m so hungry,” Stiles said.  “How about you?”

As if on cue, Y/N’s stomach growled.

Stiles laughed, “I’ll take that as a yes.”

He quickly got to his feet and extended a veiny hand out to Y/N, which she took and allowed herself to be pulled up as well.  Then Stiles turned around and opened up a drawer, rummaging through its contents before whipping out a faded menu that read ‘Willie’s Chinese’.  He waggled his eyebrows at her, then laid the menu flat on the counter.  Y/N moved to stand next to him, closer than she would have before.  She could practically feel the heat coming off his body as she stared down at the menu.

“So... Egg rolls, obviously,” Stiles said, running his finger down the list of menu items.  “Fried rice... Chicken balls?”

He looked to Y/N for confirmation.  She nodded.  “Sure.”

“What else?”

Y/N pursed her lips in thought before saying, “Something vegetable-y.”

“Vegetable-y, vegetable-y,” Stiles murmured, scanning the items on the faded pages.  “Stir fried vegetables?”

“Perfect,” Y/N said.

“Okay... And maybe some general tao’s.  That should be enough, right?”

“Think so.”

Stiles reached into his back pocket to pull out his phone, his eyes darting back and forth from the menu as he dialled the number for the restaurant.

Y/N realized then that she had never changed out of her clothes from yesterday.

“Mind if I go shower while we wait for the food?” She stage-whispered as Stiles held the phone to his ear.

“No problem,” he mouthed, before saying, “Yeah hi, I’d like to make an order for delivery?”

Y/N retreated from the kitchen and headed upstairs to the girls’ bathroom.  As she washed her hands, she lifted her gaze to the mirror hanging above the sink.  She had avoided her reflection since returning home yesterday, but finally, she steeled herself to take a look.

Her hair was lacking some of its usual lustre and her skin was sallow, but all in all, it was not as bad as she had braced herself for.  And now, after the events of the past fifteen minutes, she looked... rejuvenated.  Her face broke out into a huge grin then, and she allowed herself a moment to silently freak out about what had just happened.

After all this time, over half a year of secretly pining after Stiles, she had made a move.  It wasn’t at all how she had always imagined doing it, but when she had seen him there on the floor, looking as broken as she felt, she couldn’t help but say the one thing that might be able to explain what she had done, to take away whatever guilt her story had placed upon him.

Getting those words out had been more difficult than recounting the details of her capture to the sheriff, and for those excruciating seconds where Stiles hadn’t said anything, she had regretted ever opening her mouth.  But then he had told her how he felt, and... Y/N had never felt such absolute, overwhelming elation.  Just reliving it now, she couldn’t wait to go back out and see his face, to simply be in his presence again.

She hastily threw her hair up in a bun, deciding to skip washing it, having just done so yesterday - she’d spray some dry shampoo on it after.  Then, she hopped in the shower, going through her usual routine with a little more sense of normalcy than the day before in her zombie-like state.

When she was finished, she padded back into her room through the attaching door and opened her closet.  What did one wear for a stay-at-home date?

She decided to opt for comfort, but tried to make it cute, picking out a plain white cami and throwing a nice, drapey cardigan over it.  For bottoms, she just pulled on another pair of her favourite black leggings.  Moving to her vanity, she saw to her hair, and then headed back downstairs where she found Stiles sitting on the couch with his phone. Evidently he had decided to shower too, his damp hair dripping onto a fresh, green plaid shirt.

He looked up when she entered the room.   “Food should be here soon.”

Y/N shot him a thumbs up and went to curl up on the arm chair across from him.  Stiles set his phone down and leaned back slightly. Y/N felt her face burn as he simply sat there looking at her.

She buried her head in her shoulder.  “Stop staring at me.”

“I always stare at you,” Stiles said, and she could hear him grinning.  “It never bothered you before.”

She whipped her head back up to shoot him a look.  “How can that be?  I thought I was always staring at you.”

Stiles shrugged, then whispered, “Mysteries of the universe...”

Y/N giggled and she thought she saw his eyes light up.

Just then, the doorbell rang.

Stiles stood up to answer it and Y/N went to get her purse, attempting to pay for half but Stiles wouldn’t have it.  Then together, they carried the food into the kitchen where Stiles had already set the table and poured two glasses of water.

“You had time to shower and set the table before I came back down?” Y/N asked.  “Do I take that long?”

“Yes,” Stiles flashed a cheeky smile.

Y/N’s stomach did a flip.

She attempted to compose herself as they unpacked the food and sat down to load up their plates, Stiles heaping a pile of chicken fried rice onto his, Y/N taking mostly stir-fry, feeling the need to get some nutrients back in her body.

Y/N felt self-conscious as she bit into a particularly crunchy piece of broccoli, hoping it hadn’t sounded as loud to him as it did in her own head.  They had eaten alone together just this morning but it felt different now, the air more charged.  It was too quiet with nothing but the sound of their chewing.

Moving to take a sip of water, Y/N broke the silence.  “Would you rather be able to read minds or stop time?”

“Oh, read minds, easy,” Stiles said, gulping down his food.  “I could have saved us so much time trying to figure out who the alpha, or the kanima, or whatever other supernatural bullshit going on around here was.”

“Yeah, but wouldn’t it get annoying?” Y/N asked.  “Constantly hearing all those thoughts buzzing around you?”

Stiles considered this.  “Eh, you’d probably get used to it.  How ‘bout you?”

“Stop time,” Y/N said.  “But with the huge caveat that I wouldn’t age while time was stopped.”

Stiles raised an eyebrow, chewing as he waited for her to elaborate.

“Well, if I was always stopping time but my body was still aging, I could easily lose like, a year of my life in real time.  And then when I started to look older, people would catch on to that and next thing I know, the government would be banging on my door, wanting to do testing on me.”

Stiles choked on a laugh. “You’ve given this a lot of thought.”

“I take hypotheticals very seriously.”

“Okay,” Stiles said, wiping his hands on a napkin before going to scrape more rice onto his plate.  “Would you rather have hands for feet, or feet for hands?

They carried on like that for the duration of their meal.  After they had finished and cleaned everything up, Y/N strolled over to the living room.  She could hear Stiles following behind as she settled into the corner of the couch.  Stiles sat down in the middle, a little closer than he would have before.

They were quiet for a moment, and then Stiles let out a laugh.

“What?” Y/N asked, both amused and intrigued.

“I just still can’t believe this,” he said, shaking his head.  “All this time...”

Y/N bowed her head, smiling too.  “I know.”

“Scott and Allison are going to freak.”

Oh they most certainly would.  Especially Allison.  Y/N had never quite divulged her feelings for Stiles to her, but she knew her cousin had been able to tell anyways.

“Allison’s going to want to go on double dates,” Y/N said.

“Yeah, now we won’t be the awkward third and fourth wheel when we all hang out.”

Y/N laughed.  She looked over at Stiles then and caught him unsuccessfully trying to stifle a yawn.  She frowned.  “Tired?”

“Nah, I’m good,” he said, waving a hand.  “I’m guessing you aren’t, after your nap earlier?”

“Yeah, not really,” Y/N admitted.  “But you don’t have to stay up on my account if you want to go to bed.”

Stiles looked at her, his voice low as he said, “I don’t want to.”

Y/N blinked, her pulse speeding up as his eyes held hers.  Her voice came out quiet too as she said, “Then what do you want to do?”

Stiles looked down then, and edged a little closer to her on the couch, their knees touching now.  Impulsively, Y/N stretched out her fingertips to graze his knee. She heard Stiles swallow, and when they looked back up at each other, she knew the answer to her question.  She removed her hand from his knee and lifted it to rest on his arm.  Then, ever so gently, she tugged on his sleeve, pulling him closer to her as she leaned forward at the same time.

As their lips met, Stiles placed his arm over the back of the couch so her head was nestled comfortably in the crook of his elbow.  Then, he reached his other hand to cup the back of her head, running his fingers through her long hair and down to settle on her waist.  Y/N slid her own hand higher to wrap her arm around him.

Y/N felt electric. Their movements were perfectly in sync, as if they had been doing this forever.  Though she didn't want to stop, they broke apart for air then, but barely moved away from each other.  Stiles reached to tuck her hair behind Y/N’s ear before dropping his hand to rest lightly on her bare ankle.

And then the world tilted

She was back in the windowless room, the click of a shackle echoing off the walls as it locked around her ankle.  She couldn't get enough air, she - 

Y/N jerked away from Stiles, gasping and shaking.

"Y/N?”

His voice, high with alarm, sounded distant to her ears, but somewhat brought her back to reality.  She was in their living room, on the couch, and Stiles -

She placed both hands on the back of her neck, panting.  "Sorry.  I don't know what just happened. "

"It's okay," Stiles said quickly, and she saw him reach for her before hesitating and changing his mind.  "Was it something I did?”

Y/N shook her head, trying to clear it.  "I just... I need some air."

"Okay," Stiles said, standing as she did.

She moved to the patio door in the kitchen and slid it open, gulping down the cool, night air, sensing Stiles slowly approach her from the side.  After a few more deep inhales, Y/N closed the door once more and turned to press her back against it, sliding down to the floor.  

And then, she couldn't help it.  She started crying.

"Y/N," Stiles said, worry coating his voice. 

Through her tears, she saw him drop to the ground next to her.

She felt Stiles place an arm around her tentatively, as if unsure whether it was the right thing to do in the situation.  But when she leaned into him, pressing her cheek to his chest, he wrapped his other arm around her and cradled her to him.

"Shhh, it's okay," he said, his voice soft above her ear.  "You're safe."

She allowed the warmth of his body and the sound of his steady heart beat lull her until she managed to stop the flow of tears.  She sagged against him and let out a long breath.  "I'm sorry.  I don't know what that was."

He stroked her hair.  "You went through a lot.  I’d be more concerned if you weren’t feeling like this."

Y/N sniffed.  "But I felt fine.  More than fine.  I don't know what brought it on."

Stiles rested his chin on the top of her head. "When you go through something traumatic, sometimes your body reacts to things against your control.”

"Well it sucks," Y/N said.

Stiles laughed quietly, the shaking of his shoulders jostling her.  "I know.  But it won't last forever.  Let's call the therapist first thing tomorrow, okay?"

Y/N nodded, sniffling again.  Then said, "I think maybe I should go lie down afterall."

"Alright, c'mon."

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AO3 link

tag list: @lzz-chaos​, @combative5sos​

posted May 19, 2020

[svengooliecat]

Sole in Lemon-Butter Caper Sauce

We know from the books that Bond is a bit of a gourmet diner, and that he loves seafood. More than once, we see him eating a grilled sole, which features in this recipe. 

Sole with Lemon-Butter and Capers

 Ingredients:

¼ cup all-purpose flour  ½ tsp, plus 1/8 tsp salt, divided ¼ tsp black pepper 1 lb. sole fillets 2 tbsp vegetable oil 3 tbsp butter 2 tbsp lemon juice 2 tsp capers, rinsed, drained, and chopped 2 tbsp fresh chives, chopped (garnish)

Instructions:

1.  Heat oil in large skillet over medium heat

2.  Bread fish fillets in flour, salt, and pepper. Add half the fish to the pan and cook 2-3 min per side until golden brown and crunchy. Remove from pan and keep warm; fry second batch

3.  Wipe skillet. Add butter and remaining salt. Cook about 30 seconds, until it browns slightly

4.  Remove butter from heat, add capers and lemon juice

5.  Serve the fish with a drizzle of sauce and chives

 Notes:

1. Recipe calls for sole, but I’ve never found it for a decent price. So, meh. Cod, flounder, tilapia also works and is probably easier on the budget. 2. Browning the butter gives it a slightly nutty taste and aroma 3. Separate the batches for a more even fry; crowd the pan and you’ll throw the temperatures all off and it won’t make you happy

  Serve with brown rice and a vegetable like asparagus, green beans, brussels sprouts, or a side salad.

[schnithouseelizabeth]

What distinguishes escalope from schnitzel in particular?

Most housewives cook steaks or twist nice tenderloin or ham they've purchased at the store into cutlets.

But there are still many delectable meat meals available, like schnitzels, chops, entrecotes, and escalopes.

Any tiny piece of meat is cooked in a pan called schnitzel. It is produced with chicken breast, veal, lamb, and hog. Use the area of the carcass with the soft meat, free of streaks and cartilage, for schnitzel. So ham or loin is the meat most frequently used to make schnitzel.

The schnitzel is cut across the fibres in one big piece so that it maintains its shape properly and cooks fast. There are variations in schnitzel size. On sometimes, it exceeds the size of the plate it is placed on.

The essential need is that it must be thin. If it turns out that a layer of flesh is too thick, it is hammered off with a cleaver or a specialised hammer.

Cooking schnitzel

Slice the meat thinly, then sprinkle it with water.

thrash him.

Make it oval-shaped.

Add salt and pepper to taste.

They are breaded in ground breadcrumbs and moistened with a freeze made of milk and eggs on both sides.

Deep-fried or roasted in copious amounts of oil until golden brown.

A well-done, complete, thin coating of meat with a crunchy crust is what is known as ready-made schnitzel.

Schnitzel can occasionally be confused for a chop, escalope, or steak by a young mistress. Of course, there are similarities between them, but if you carefully read each type of meat meal separately, you may infer that each of these dishes uses a high-quality cut of meat. And what makes them different from one another?

Cutlet

Any hostess can cook cutlets. To achieve this, several spices, an egg, and milk-soaked bread are added to beef that has been ground in a meat grinder. Cereals and mashed vegetables are occasionally put at this place.

Knead the mince well. Burgers are made from it and then breaded. Cook the patties until golden brown on both sides. Therefore, chopped burgers and schnitzel are not very similar. However, there are more bone-in natural cutlets available.

They resemble schnitzels and are fashioned from a single piece of beef. however, just at first glance. The only similarity between them is that both the schnitzel and the natural cutlet must be beaten before frying and then seasoned with salt, pepper, lemon juice, and breadcrumbs.

How are cutlets and schnitzel different?

Difference 1. Brisket made of chicken, turkey, or ham is suitable for schnitzel. Tendons and films shouldn't be in the flesh.

Natural meat cutlet with a bone. It can be any type of meat, including veal, lamb, chicken, and others.

Difference number two: Schnitzel was thinned out. It can occasionally just be 4 mm thick.

Very frequently, a thin layer of flesh is added to a piece of pulp with a bone that has already been torn off in order to reduce the weight of the cutlet to a standard, giving the two plastics an oval form. They are breaded and fried in this form.

3. The crust of schnitzels is deep-fried to a crispiness.

Natural burgers are first baked in the oven after being pan-fried to a golden exterior.

Chop

The name of the chop speaks for itself. It is also known as schnitzel. Evidently because both the chop and the schnitzel consist of a thinly sliced piece of meat that has been breaded and cooked in oil.

However, seasoned chefs can readily explain how schnitzel and chop vary from one another. For a chop, any meat that is free of veins and bones is acceptable. Chicken breasts make for very delicious chops.

Slices of pulp are sliced across the fibres, then they are gently beaten. Spice up, then wrap in breading (breadcrumbs and lezone). Then, cook the chop in a little butter in a well-heated frying pan so that the chop quickly forms a crust and the juice does not run out.

What distinguishes a schnitzel from a chop?

Difference 1: Always beat off meat for chops. If a schnitzel is well-cut, it is impossible to surpass it.

Difference 2: While schnitzel is frequently cooked in deep fat and even on the grill, the chop is fried in a modest amount of butter.

By the way if you’re in Adelaide and want to dine-in for Best Schnitzel in Adelaide, surely visit Schnithouse Elizabeth.

Scallop

Use the loin, ham, or any other non-lank meat for an escalop. Slices up to 1.5 cm wide are made by cutting it parallel to the fibres. A hoe is used to beat them to a thickness of 0.5–1 cm, forming a scallop. Add salt and pepper to taste. Fry until done on both sides in oil. any side dish is served with it.

Beefsteak

Another variety of meat products is the beefsteak. Beef carcasses are used to make it. In actuality, it's a piece of fried beef.

They are given an oval shape by being sliced into thin layers across the threads and then hammered off. Future steaks are seasoned, peppered, and cooked in butter till golden brown on both sides.

What distinguishes a schnitzel from a steak?

Difference 1. Beefsteaks are never breaded with breadcrumbs and lezone, unlike schnitzel.

Difference 2: Beefsteaks can be fully roasted or partially roasted (with blood).

Schnitzel is always prepared, so it always comes out roasted and with a crispy crust.

Difference 3. A distinct dish is a beefsteak.

Although the schnitzel is distinct from beefsteak, cutlets, escalopes, and chops, all of these meat dishes are delicious, simple to make, and can be used to spruce up any festive table.

[starshipcaptainjojo]

"And how long have you been exhibiting symptoms?" The Demon is on your table, which is the closest you could get to getting it to sit down.

"Symptoms?"

"Of soul disassociation." The Demon has its cleft chin in the palm of its spiny hand resting a boney elbow on its knee. Three big black fathomless eyes blink at you. The Demon looks a bit like HIM from Powerpuff Girls if HIM was drawn by Michelangelo and dressed like He-Man. The Demon's tail curls around a leg of your rickety old thrift store dining table. "You have to have noticed when your soul detached. I can't even believe I ate it. It wasn't even warm anymore. So." The other spiny hand waves at you imploringly. "What happened?"

"I don't know." You sit down on your white plastic chair and play with the edge of a white plastic placemat. You don't look up at the Demon and the Demon doesn't push for more eye contact. "I guess... maybe since college?"

"Oh?" The Demon lays down on the table on its side. The table creaks ominously.

"I mean. I didn't know it had a name I just... stopped giving a shit." You shrug. "I have an okay job. My car works. I talk to my Mom once a week." You sigh heavily, heavier than you thought you would. "I'm perfectly normal."

"Ahha." The Demon slithers off the table into brackish smoke, leaving black skidmarks on the table and the smell of sulphur behind as it re-forms by your fridge. It opens your freezer and takes out frozen chicken breasts and eats them like chicken fingers. "So your soul disassociation is pretty severe." It leans against your counter, almost bare ass practically touching the cutting board.

"Okay so." It waves a frozen chicken at you. "This is what your soul is now. Edible, but cold and frozen and tasteless."

"Thanks," you roll your eyes but the Demon is nodding.

"You have to nuke it. Microwave the shit out of it, then season and fry it so it becomes a crunchy delicious golden brown." It finished off its frozen chicken piece. "When you're deliciously seasoned I'll eat it."

"You already devoured it you said." You thought this was clear.

"Noooo. I took possession of it. Now I have to fatten it up. What kinds of things did you like in college? And what really pissed you off?"

You stare blankly at it.

"Seasoning!" The Demon throws your frozen chicken into the freezer with extreme prejudice. "What did you like?!"

"I don't know. Food. Stationary? Painting flowers?" You truly don't remember, but you did take a lot of painting electives.

"Okay great. That's a start. Here's what I'm going to do. I have just sent a company wide email on your behalf that says you're a smelly fart and you have hated your boss from day one." As you surge to your feet it puffs up gleefully, hair sticking out like a mane around its face. "And I've also deposited one hundred thousand dollars in your bank account!"

There's a horrified pause. Then a thoughtful pause.

"One hundred thousand dollars?" You shift from foot to foot.

"Yep! Let's get you some painting lessons and a trip to Holland!" The Demon grins with far too many pointy teeth. "And I'll make your trip absolutely miserable along your way! Every bus will be late! Every restaurant will sit you by the bathroom! Every other tourist will be German! No one will speak English!" It rubs its hands together, practically salivating.

"Why Holland?" You decide to focus on the one useful thing it said.

"Oh. Super safe, and full of Tulips if I remember correctly. You can paint them. I'll put you in a local plein air painting camp for the week you're there. Oh but everyone else will be much much better artists than you are."

You sit with that for long enough for the Demon to grow impatient and wave a hand in front of your face.

"Helloooooo, Demon Lord Basquiat to Uncooked Chicken Nugget!" It huffs. "Fine. Play hard to get. I've also sent scathing emails to your high school nemeses from Social Studies and Math."

Your shock must show on your face. It laughs heartily at your misery. "I also transferred all their savings into your account through legal means."

Your head is spinning.

"I'll pack," you say dizzily.

"Great! I'll turn up the heat, you just roll around in that seasoning for a bit! See you in Europe! Kisses!"

And with that it vanishes in a puff of soot that dirties your whole kitchen, leaving two tickets to Holland on the counter at the center of a scorch mark. You pick up the tickets curiously.

Your name is spelled wrong on the tickets.

You're sitting in a middle seat both ways.

You haven't felt this excited about anything in years.

A demon just devoured your soul. You are both very confused as to why you are still alive.

[curutquit]

Deepfried chanapeas. Simple online tool to deep-fry images via filters, jpeg crushing, and bulging (new!). Warm oil for deep-frying in a wok or deep fryer set over medium-high heat. With your fingers, make rounded walnut-size balls of the dal mixture and drop them gently into the hot oil, spooning some over the.

They can be eaten as appetizers or you can even stuff them inside pita pockets with a curd dressing to make healthy, sumptuous snacks like Falafel in Whole Wheat Pita Pockets. All Reviews for Deep Fried Black Eyed Peas. Frying the peas was very painful - they oil kept bubbeling and overflowing from the pot even when only a few of the peas were pu in there.

Hey everyone, hope you're having an incredible day today. Today, I will show you a way to prepare a special dish, deepfried chanapeas. It is one of my favorites. This time, I'm gonna make it a bit tasty. This will be really delicious.

Deepfried chanapeas is one of the most favored of current trending foods on earth. It is simple, it is quick, it tastes delicious. It's enjoyed by millions daily. Deepfried chanapeas is something which I have loved my whole life. They are fine and they look fantastic.

Simple online tool to deep-fry images via filters, jpeg crushing, and bulging (new!). Warm oil for deep-frying in a wok or deep fryer set over medium-high heat. With your fingers, make rounded walnut-size balls of the dal mixture and drop them gently into the hot oil, spooning some over the.

To begin with this recipe, we must prepare a few components. You can have deepfried chanapeas using 5 ingredients and 3 steps. Here is how you can achieve that.

The ingredients needed to make Deepfried chanapeas:

{Prepare of boiled chanapeas.

{Get of salt.

{Get of cinamon.

{Make ready of egg.

{Make ready of cooking oil.

These crispy, crunchy, deep fried, golden brown pakoras are truly yummy and really fuss free when it comes to making them. This super easy recipe is made with chana dal or split chickpeas. You should be able to easily find them at your local Indian grocery store. Deep-frying is all about the batter, and I discovered this lacy, crispy version of deep-fried chickpeas by accident, when I asked a cook to fry a container of chickpeas in their cooking liquid.

Steps to make Deepfried chanapeas:

Put all the ingredients in a bowl and mix. Let it rest for 5 minutes.

In a pan, add cooking oil and let it boil for 2 minutes. Add your coated chana peas and let them cook for 5 minutes.

Enjoy them.

I asked him to flour them, assuming he would drain them, flour them and fry them. Yellow split peas get flavored with a blended paste of toasted spices, chiles, and tomato. This version, made with regular yellow split peas (or chana dal if you can find it), features a particular seasoning Deep-Fried Potato Skins With Pulled Pork and Cheddar. Deep-fried and/or dried slices of bananas (fruits of herbaceous plants of the genus Musa of the It consists of a potato mash patty coated with chick pea flour, then deep-fried and Black gram (Kala Chana) or dried yellow peas or dried white peas is cooked with gravy. Your Fried Chana stock images are ready.

So that is going to wrap this up with this exceptional food deepfried chanapeas recipe. Thank you very much for your time. I'm sure that you can make this at home. There's gonna be more interesting food in home recipes coming up. Don't forget to save this page in your browser, and share it to your family, friends and colleague. Thanks again for reading. Go on get cooking!

[joyfulfryer]

Brentwood Air Fryer (3.4qt) Review: Read before you buy

Use this Brentwood Air Fryer AF-32MBK 3.4Qt to fry meals to perfection fastly and evenly without the guilt of calories and fat.

This air fryer needs less or no oil to nicely cook onion rings, french fries, chicken wings, roasted veggies, steak, and much more. Utilize the quick temperature guide and the thirty-minute timer for crispy, quick results.

You can use Cool touch, detachable basket, and fry pan to make serving pretty easy. The basket and frying pan are made with a nonstick copper material for effortless cleanup.

By the way, this Brentwood model  managed to beat Elite platinum air fryer, Ultrean Air Fryer, and unbelievable, even the super performer, Tristar air fryer wasn’t able to dominate this model!

Brentwood Air Fryer Reviews

NON-VEG DISHES 93% VEG DISHES 88% SNACKS 90%

Benefits

BENEFITS Quick & even cooking utilizing rapid hot-air circulation 1,400W Uses little to no oil Thirty-min timer Temperature control from 175F to 400F Easy-to-clean, nonstick surface Quick temperature guide Includes cool-to-the-touch Detachable frypan & basket One-year manufacturer warranty

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What were the results of the 4 major dishes we tested with Brentwood air fryer?

1.) Bacon dumplings

We had a streak of dishes to test on with this air fryer, but we finalized four dishes to score the performance of this model. The very first out of these dishes was Bacon dumplings and breaking the suspense; the taste was heaven!

This air fryer prepared the dish in time (does a faster job than most similar air fryers out there). Once dumplings were prepared, one of our testers exclaimed that the color of the outer crust wasn’t exactly what it should be.

Yes, it wasn’t that brownish, but we can’t say, “it looked ugly” at all. Well, no one can fill the stomach by just staring at the dish, so finally, those dumplings were finally in our mouths.

From a little air fryer that costs around $80, we were in no way expecting the dumplings to be so tasty! most importantly, even the center part of the dumplings was perfect, and talking about the crust; it was crispy enough to make you say “yummmm.”

So, for the dumplings, it deserves a solid 9.5 score out of 10!

2.) Chicken breasts

Talking about Chicken breasts, undoubtedly it’s so rich in protein, but the issue for which most of the kids and also oldies with weak teeth prefer chicken thighs instead of breasts is its hardness. It’s hard to chew when we deep fry thick chicken breasts, but that was exactly what we wanted to test with Brentwood’s model.

We sliced thick breasts just to figure out how well does this air fryer cook it from within. Does it cook the breasts tender soft without overcooking it from out, or does it provide “hard to chew’ pieces like the other air fryer in our test did (no, we won’t tell the name)? Well, it beat Bella 1.2 qt air fryer in this testing.

Once again, this little air fryer impressed us with its “overall perfect” cooking. We included little children and 60+ oldies as our volunteers. Everyone was chilling with the juicy, tender chicken breast. The remarks were positive from the experts (we weren’t left behind in grabbing), children, and oldies.

One oldie went a bit far by saying – “KFC should use this air fryer to make their stuff a bit softer.”

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3.) French Fries

We’d make a big mistake if we conclude the Brentwood air fryer review without explaining whether this model does justice with French fries or not. Till now, the majority of us worry 3-4 times before ordering French fries because of its “heavy calories” nature. The president has changed, and so has the time (maybe pulled Mr. Joe Biden here without much of reason, lol).

When we pulled out fries and quickly transferred them to the bowl, the reason was that all 4 kids were extremely excited about the fries, because one of our testers explained to them the fake theory that Michael Jackson became Michael Jackson after grabbing Fries from this air fryer daily!

Oh Gosh!

Coming back to normal now, the kids wasted no time before putting the fries in the mouth, and then it was the time to gather their reviews!

The reviews, as per our expectations, were awesome, and we were requested to prepare one more batch of fries. Not forgetting to say – no matter, it’s a 3.4 qt model. Still, the number of fries it prepared was truly appreciable.

4.) Lemon Air-Baked Chicken Thighs

The best thing we prepared with this air fryer was an awesome dish recommended by our sir’s stupid neighbor – “Lemon Air-Baked Chicken Thighs.“

Well, everything can’t be explained in words, and that’s the reason, rather than explaining how well did this model prepared Lemon Air-Baked Chicken Thighs, we’d recommend you to try it by yourself once! Yes, we truly mean it.

We also recommend you not to share it with your neighbor. Otherwise, you’ll find him standing at your door every afternoon, with a bowl in his hand.

BIGGEST ATTRACTIONS FRY ALL YOUR FAVORITES Crispy, tender french fries, crisp zucchini, chips, crunchy onion rings, chicken tenders, roasted vegetables, juicy chicken wings, frozen foods, and much more – Make them fresh or utilize a considerable variety of your special pre-packaged meals. HEALTH CONSCIOUS There is a silver lining for those who love fried food, and it is our Brentwood Airfryer – Instead of utilizing oil, the device produces hot air from a strategically placed coil making beautifully fried meals without any extra calories ADJUSTABLE TEMPERATURE & TIMER Set a timer up to thirty minutes and then forget about it – You can adjust the temperature between 400 and 175 degrees, and there are a whole lot of dishes you can prepare using this much wide range of temperature. 1 YEAR WARRANTY Brentwood air fryer happily provides a full year warranty from the date of buy to replace or repair any potentially defective device manufactured by Brentwood Kitchen Appliances. You can find full information of warranty inside the instruction manual guide of your device. This instruction manual is easy to understand. EASY TO CLEAN When you are done utilizing your air fryer, wind the cord and usually wipe it down clean – No oil or messy grease to clean up! Cleaning this air fryer consumes just 5 minutes!

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Better Than Any Restaurant Rosemary Lemon Air-Baked Chicken Thighs with Brentwood air fryer

A chicken stock, little butter, white wine, rosemary, and lemon combine to make the best air fryer baked chicken thighs you’re ever going to consume!

This is box title Cook Time: 30 minutes Prep Time: 5 minutes Total Time: 35 minutes Cuisine: American Course: Entree Calories: 283 Servings: 8

INGREDIENTS Three tablespoons salted butter 6-8 chicken thighs skin on 1/2 cup healthy chicken broth 1/2 teaspoon garlic powder 1-inch lemon cut half 1/4 cup semi-dry white wine salt and pepper to taste 3-4 tablespoons fresh rosemary

INSTRUCTIONS STEP 1 => Preheat your fryer to 375 degrees F. In a large or medium air fryer safe skillet. <= STEP 2 STEP3 => Melt the butter over medium-high heat. Place your chicken thighs inside the skillet and fry until you see the golden brown and crispy. Turn it to cook on both sides of the chicken.<= STEP4STEP 5=>In a huge measuring cup, whisk together the garlic powder, white wine, broth, squeeze the juice out of one lemon half inside the mixture. Pour in the skillet and then mix inside the butter mixture. Cook for another five minutes <= STEP6 STEP 7 => Stirring the sauce occasionally. Take the half lemon and cut it into slices. Place on top of the chicken if you want. If you want your chicken to stay tender and crisp, then omit this step.<= STEP8STEP 9=> Sprinkle the rosemary over the fried chicken. Place inside the air fryer. <= STEP10 STEP11 => Bake for another 25-30 minutes until the chicken thighs get cooked. Remove and then serve <= STEP12

Recipe Notes

A little sea salt sprinkled on the top after serving is ideal!

NUTRITION INFORMATION Calories 283kcal Potassium 239mg Serving 4g Sodium 175mg Protein 17g Vitamin A 235IU Saturated Fat 7g Calcium 12mg Fat 22g Vitamin C 1.3mg Cholesterol 117mg Iron 0.8mg

All information and calories are based on a 3rd party calculator and are an estimate. Basic nutritional information would vary with brands utilized, your measuring ways, portion measurements, and more.

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Use Brentwood air fryer to prepare Air Fryer Fried Chicken like never before

Delicious “air-fried” chicken done using an Air Fryer! This fried chicken is the ideal recipe out there!

BASIC INFO Cook Time 25 minutes Prep Time 4 minutes Total Time 29 minutes Cuisine Chicken Course Main Course Calories 327 Servings 4

INGREDIENTS One egg beaten 1/2 cup all-purpose flour Four small chicken thighs skin on One teaspoon seasoning salt 1 1/2 tablespoons Old Bay Cajun Seasoning cooking spray if desired

INSTRUCTIONS STEP 1 => Preheat your Air Fryer to approximately 390 degrees. Whisk together the flour, the Old Bay, and salt. <= STEP 2 STEP3 => Dredge your chicken inside the flour mixture, then inside the egg, then back inside the flour mixture. Shake off excess flour nicely. If you wanna, you could spray the chicken with cooking spray at this point. However, we don’t bother. <= STEP4STEP 5=>Place the four chicken thighs inside the bottom of the AirFryer cooking compartment. Then Cook for a total of twenty-five minutes or until the chicken reaches 180 degrees. Remove and serve.

NUTRITION INFORMATION Carbohydrates 13g Potassium 321mg Calories 327kcal Sodium 686mg Protein 21g Fiber 1g Saturated Fat 5g Calcium 21mg Fat 20g Vitamin A 1405IU Cholesterol 151mg Iron 2.2mg

All information is based on a 3rd party calculator and is only an estimate. Basic nutritional information would vary with brands utilized, measuring methods, portion measurement, and much more.

Brentwood Select Air Fryer (3.4qt) Review: Finally, we conclude!

FINAL WORD So, after reading all that, what you’ve got to say about Brentwood select air fryer?Certainly, on the basis of performance, one can hardly criticize this 3.4 qt. air fryer. Also, the amount of food this little fryer prepares in a single batch is also appreciable.Now, talking about features, we’d say, everything one needs, is present, and even more importantly, no feature confuses you at all. After that, cleaning is also as easy as it is with some other much expensive models. Regarding durability also, we’d give it 9.6 score out of 10, and it actually passed our drop down test.But yes, we’d recommend you to be safe while using air fryers, as these appliances may easily get damaged if dropped down from the kitchen’s platform.

[shelleyseale]

How to Eat for a Healthy Pregnancy

Eating healthy foods has always been a priority of mine. Mainly because I love food and cooking, and I love a variety when I cook - a lot of veggies, grains, meats, fruits…anything I’ll try! When I became pregnant, I know I needed to pay attention to everything I ate and take certain things in moderation.

I want to make sure I get a variety of foods for optimal nutrients for my growing babe! Thankfully, I have a great midwife who provided me with necessary food options, and I found a lot of pregnancy books which include healthy eating and recipes, and are more on the “green living” side of things. I have listed some of what I have found to be the best during pregnancy to keep my health and energy up.  A great diet during pregnancy should be filled with proteins, vitamin rich vegetables and fruits, healthy fats and complex carbohydrates and of course, lots of H2O. There are many healthy ways to eat no matter what your agenda is! A lot of OB’s and midwives will also recommend a prenatal vitamin for you to take daily or a few times a week. I personally have been using a vegan plant based prenatal vitamin with plenty of folate. I chose this because it has the most simple ingredients I can understand without fillers and at a decent price. Folate is a B-vitamin that is naturally found in a variety of foods, mostly dark, leafy vegetables, oranges, and nuts and beans, and has been recommended for pregnant women to get plenty of. Folic acid is a synthetic form of folate, that is not naturally found in food, but used in supplements. 

Sliced beef tenderloin, garlic mashed potatoes with gravy, roasted green beans, and a spring mix salad with tomatoes, cheese, walnuts and raspberry vinaigrette.

Protein

Here are some protein rich foods I have enjoyed a lot this pregnancy -  Wild caught salmon - which also has great healthy omega fats, Beef sirloin steaks - cubed and seared with potatoes/rice and veggies. Or whole sirloin steaks sliced. I use grass fed beef. Pork tenderloin, Raw nuts and trail mixes, Fruit and nut energy chews with protein, Kefir drink and honey greek yogurt, sometimes with fruit and granola. Beans and lentils- making meat, rice, bean and veggie stews or dishes. I love great northern beans, black beans and any kind of lentil.

Sauteed shrimp with garlic, lemon and parsley, & orzo stuffed red bell peppers with tomatoes, goat cheese and parsley.

Vegetables 

I love veggies of all kinds, these are my personal favorites that I have been craving and cooking a lot this pregnancy -  Beets - I love to cube red and golden beats, drizzle with olive oil, sea salt and fresh rosemary, and roast in the oven. I eat them as a side dish or even drop in my salads. Spinach - fresh in a salad, or sautéed with mushrooms, garlic and onions has been a favorite. Basil (making a lot of pesto!) Sweet bell peppers - raw in my salads, or with my favorite ginger soy stir fry with chicken, or in homemade coconut curry, Arugula and spring mix salads with dried fruits, raw chopped veggies, walnuts, goat cheese and either homemade lemon or Italian vinaigrette, Broccoli - steamed or sautéed with other veggies, it’s limitless! Cilantro and parsley for sauces, tacos, pastas. Lightly sautéed kale with parmesan & garlic or a sweet cranberry sauce has been my go-to. Spaghetti squash, roasted with just parmesan and garlic, or tossed with gouda, tomatoes, garlic, spinach and mushrooms.  Avocados - I enjoy some good mashed avocado with lemon on toast, sliced on a sandwich, or guacamole. Avocado is a great way to get healthy fats.

Homemade pesto - tons of basil, pine nuts, lemon juice, sea salt, and olive oil.  

Veggie loaded rice! Turmeric garlic rice, with roasted beets, carrots, asparagus, sweet onions and tomatoes with herbs.

Fruits

I have craved fruits non-stop for both of my pregnancies, 8 years apart. I think I am mainly craving sugar in any form, and also being pregnant in the heat of the Texas summer, there is nothing better than snacking on my favorites - juicy cantaloupe, mangoes, watermelons, apples, oranges and raspberries!  I started juicing watermelons after always having too much left over, and after a little research, I have found watermelon to be especially beneficial for pregnant women. Eating or juicing watermelon has helped me with my nausea in the beginning of pregnancy, and then my acid reflux and heartburn later on into my second and third trimester. And of course, we know watermelon has a high water content, which can help with any swelling and muscle cramps that happens to most all of us pregnant women, especially at the end. I have been experiencing so much muscle cramping this time around and healthy fluids and water has been a staple for easing that pain. 

Honey greek yogurt with granola, apples, blueberries, grapes and kiwi.

Grains

Complex carbohydrates are important as well, they contain essential vitamins, minerals and fiber your body needs and your developing baby needs. Sticking with 100% whole grains is best to get the most nutrition from grains. I’ve been choosing whole honey wheat bread, quinoa, brown rice, steel cut oats, and whole wheat pasta as much as I can. Adding different grains to your diet can create so many different recipes. I got sick of oatmeal, so I made some oat bars with leftover steel cut oats I had sitting in my kitchen. You can mix bananas, blueberries, honey, and tons of other ingredients with oats and bake on a flat pan, and then cut into squares to make bars. Super easy and great for snacking or when I’ve been super tired in the morning and need to eat right away. 

Balancing your cravings

I guess you could call me more of a “crunchy” mom. Especially when I’ve been pregnant and when my son was a baby and toddler, I was always reading ingredients, watching what I would feed him and allow him to have. But, I will say that I do love to indulge and think moderation is key for anything. Sometimes succumbing to a guilty pleasure will make you feel a little better and that is perfectly okay. If you are eating healthy and sticking to primarily eating foods like I’ve listed above, then I say cave in to your cravings of ice cream, a cup of coffee, or your favorite candy every once in awhile. I certainly have several times during my pregnancy! Of course, always advise your OB or midwife if you have certain precautions for your pregnancy. Overall, eating colorful, vitamin rich foods has helped me keep up with energy over the summer and I believe has been a huge part of having a balanced, healthy pregnancy.  Read the full article

[fisherandhunterblog]

How To Catch And Cook Fish And Chips

Introduction: This is an easy meal to cook and, with some early preparation it’s ideal when you have guests. Filleting and freezing the trout on the day of your catch, if you have time, not only saves room in your freezer but also makes the preparation on the cay much simpler and quicker. I recently cooked my Posh Fish and Chips for six at a family holiday in Norfolk saving a long queue at the chip shop! The Fish and Chips have moist, tender fish fillets wrapped in a light crispy beer batter, thanks to a double fry. Served with some crisp fries and malt vinegar they're unbeatable. For those that are new to fishing, and do not even have an idea on how to catch fish, you can click on this link to our previous article on  how to catch fish, and you can also click on this link for equipment which would help you on your fishing campaign.  

Cleaning the Fish This is probably the most unpleasant step in the cooking process. Even some of us who have done it indefinitely still don’t feel at ease while doing this. We’re catching fish, so that means that we should end its life first. Find the most merciful way to do so. A method that has been used over the years is to hit its head as hard as possible. That way, the death will happen almost instantly. Now let’s see all the important steps for properly gutting and cleaning the fish. We gut the fish by inserting the tip of our knife into the belly near the tail. Then, we make a shallow cut all the way to the head. However, make sure not to hurt the intestines, as the fish will then have an awful and bitter taste. Slowly open the body and get all the intestines out. Cut out the anus. If there’s a dark spot near the backbone, remove it with something dull, since that’s the kidney. Find running water to rinse the fish. A stream will always do. However, if you’re planning to fish on a lake, make sure to bring bottled or tap water with you. Cut off the fins. You can leave the head on if you prefer. Fins need to be cut out simply because they’re sharp and unnecessary. Scraping the scales is probably the most tiring part. It needs to be done thoroughly. You can do it with your knife or anything that’s serrated. We always feel relieved once we’re done with this part since the real fun starts once it’s finished. We usually don’t de-bone or make fillets out of the catch simply because it takes too much time, and we’re usually very hungry by this point. However, you can do it if you like. Starting the Fire We usually split up, and while one of us cleans the fish, the other one starts the fire. Why? Well, getting the right heat will take some time. We don’t need large flames, as they will simply damage our catch. The fire must burn down to embers in order for the fish to properly cook. First of all, find some small dry branches, dry leaves and put them in one place. They will be the basis for starting the fire. Larger branches and logs are the meat. They go in as soon as the fire starts. However, the fire will need some mass, so make sure to add wood and let it burn for some time. Once it’s reduced to hot coal, you may proceed with cooking. Here, we will show you two different ways you can cook your fish. They both give a delightful taste, and we recommend to try them out. Ingredients (serves two):

• One medium to large trout filleted (around 900g – 1200g) • Salt and pepper • One large knob of butter • Plain flour for dusting • Olive or vegetable oil for pan frying trout and coating potato wedges (posh chips!) • One Lemon • Twp baking Potatoes about 225g (8oz) each • A sauce of your choice (tarter, ketchup etc) • Garden or mushy peas • Vinegar (optional) Method:

• Wash the potatoes and slice each potato into eight wedges. Then rinse the wedges in a bowl and dry them on kitchen paper. Place them in a large bowl and coat with olive oil, sprinkle with plenty of black pepper and sea salt. Place them on a greased baking tray and put in the pre-heated oven for 35 to 40 minutes at 200C fan / Gas7. After 20 minutes turn the wedges to ensure an even crisp bake. • In a saucepan, boil the water for the garden peas and place the peas in the boiling water just before pan frying the trout fillets. • Dry the trout fillets on kitchen paper, season with salt, pepper and lightly dust the skin side with plain flour. Heat (moderate) the olive oil in a non-stick frying pan and add a large knob of butter. Once the butter starts to sizzle, place the trout in the pan skin down. After four minutes turn the fillets over for a further two minutes or until cooked through. • Plate up with a slice of lemon and enjoy. Cooks Tips • As an option, add freshly chopped rosemary to the potato wedges before baking • Replace garden peas with mushy peas or have both! • Soaking the wedges in water removes the excess potato starch which prevents the wedges from sticking together and helps achieve maximum crispness • If you have not filleted trout before then take a look on YouTube. It’s easier than you think! • Excellent with a glass of beer or your favorite white wine • You can microwave the potato wedges by arranging the wedges around the edge of a large microwave plate and cook on a high for 6-8 minutes. Re-arrange wedges and cook for a further 6-8 minutes   Here is another method you can make use of in preparing your fish and chips   Ingredients: ·       4 medium potatoes (I used a mix of yukon gold and russet) ·       4 medium fish fillets (cod, haddock and albacore work well) ·       2/3 cup all-purpose flour ·       2 tablespoons cornstarch ·       1/4 teaspoon paprika ·       1/4 teaspoons onion powder ·       vegetable oil (for frying) ·       1/4 teaspoon baking powder ·       1/2 cup beer very cold (you may need a little more) Method: ·       Scrub the potatoes well, then cut into 1/4" thick batons. Dry thoroughly with paper towels and leave them sitting on paper towels to allow the surface of the potatoes to dry out for about 30 minutes. You can skip this step if you're pressed for time, but your potatoes won't turn out as crisp. ·       Mix the flour, cornstarch, paprika, and onion powder in a medium bowl until well combined. Dust each fish fillet with the flour mixture on all sides. ·       Add 1 1/2" of vegetable oil to a heavy bottomed pot and heat to 330 degrees F. Line a 2 wire racks with 2 layers of paper towels each. ·       Fry the potatoes in batches until a light tan color and the edges are just starting to brown. Transfer the fried chips to one prepared rack to drain. ·       When the potatoes are done frying, add the baking powder to the flour mixture and whisk together. Then add the cold beer to the flour mixture and lightly whisk together. It's okay if there are still a few lumps, just make sure you do not over-mix the batter or it will end up heavy. ·       Dip the fillets in the batter and fry them in batches. Flip the fillets over with tongs when you see the edges start to turn light brown. Transfer to the second prepared rack as they finish frying. ·       When the fish is done frying, increase the heat of the oil to 375 degrees F. Fry the chips a second time until they are golden brown and crisp. Drain on a rack and sprinkle with salt. ·       Fry the fish a second time at the higher temperature until golden brown. Drain on a rack. Serve the fish and chips with lemon wedges or vinegar. How to Keep Fish Warm for Dinner The answer to this question really depends on the way you're preparing your fish. If you've steamed, baked or sauteed your fish, you're in luck all you have to do is turn the heat off, put a lid on your pot or pan, and let it sit for up to 20 minutes. The steam will gently warm your fish until you're ready to serve. If you've taken care not to overcook your fish in the first place, keeping it steamy for 20 minutes won't dry it out. But when it comes to retaining a crispy skin or batter on skin-on or fried fish, it gets a little trickier. The biggest cooking error that leads to sogginess is wrapping or covering anything with a crunchy coating. Though it's tradition in Britain to deliver fish and chips wrapped in newspaper, it's actually a huge mistake. The contents of the package end up steaming themselves into soggy submission. To keep batter or skin crispy when you're cooking up fish in batches, try this technique: ·       Heat your oven to 200 degrees Fahrenheit. ·       When fish is thoroughly cooked and ready to keep warm, transfer it to a wire rack placed over a baking sheet. Do not cover or wrap in foil! Hold in the oven for up to 30 minutes. ·       When it's ready, eat it immediately, and eat it all especially if it's fried. Fried foods turn to mush as leftovers, so enjoy it in all its crispy glory. ·       When keeping food warm or letting it sit out at room temperature, always keep in mind the cooking "danger zone," of which few home cooks are aware. Food should never stay between 41-135 degrees Fahrenheit for more than four hours. At that temperature range, bacteria begins to grow rapidly and will quickly take over your food. (Keep this in mind for those summer picnics!) How to get Fish Batter to Stick Give your fish a light dusting of corn starch before dredging in the batter. Flour works to some extent but without gluten formation flour is working as a drying agent more than anything else. Corn starch is, as its name implies, a starch which will actually act as a weak glue when heated wet. Just don't pile it on. dredge each fillet in the corn starch and tap off the excess until you're left with a thin, uniform layer. Your batter will stick to the corn starch, which will stick to the fish.

Phil Cross Phil Cross was brought up in rural south Leicester shire and was introduced to a variety of field sports spending his youth coarse fishing and rough sporting. Living on his own he learned to cook and realized it was not as complicated as he thought. Over the years he has developed his cooking skills to the extent that his wife is happy to leave him in the kitchen whilst enjoying a glass of wine! Phil was introduced to fly fishing by a close friend, starting with practicing casting in the village park. They now fish together on a weekly basis. Conclusion: The “fish” in fish and chips is generally cod or haddock, but other white fish, like Pollock, plaice, and skate, aren’t uncommon, along with halibut, flounder, and tilapia in the United States. It all comes down to what’s available — many restaurants will let you choose from several options (be wary of a restaurant that can’t tell you what kind of fish goes into the fish and chips). The batter for this dish is generally just flour and water with some baking soda and vinegar added, but some restaurants replace the water with beer or milk. As for the chips, British fries are usually thicker than their American counterparts, with a super crunchy exterior and light and fluffy interior. The whole platter is served with a wedge of lemon and some malt vinegar on the side, and in the United States you’ll usually get tartar sauce as well. A popular side dish is mushy peas, which is exactly what it sounds like: peas cooked down until they’re mushy (it tastes better than it sounds).     Facebook Twitter Instagram Pinterest Google-plus Android

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