#masterlist food

[whimsyraindrop]

TS3 RECCOMENDED MODS

aesthetic food replacement by boringbones

This mod is a must for me, it replaces all the cooked recipes with a much more visually pleasing version.

⤷ download

[writingwithfolklore]

Describing Foods - A Masterlist

                As a broke university student, I love reading about food. It’s almost like eating a real meal myself <3.

I get a little angry when characters are eating a meal and I barely get to experience it with them. In that, I mean I don’t just want to know what it is, but what it’s like to eat that food—how it tastes, smells, sounds, and feels. Is a perfect croissant still a perfect croissant without the crack of the exterior, the airiness of the pastry inside, the smell of yeast?

                Probably not. When writing about a dish, the smell, texture, technique, taste, and how it looks are all important to painting the experience, so here’s some words to use when describing a meal:

Taste:

Acidic: Sharp tasting. Often used to describe tart or sour foods as well.

Aftertaste: A different taste that remains in the mouth after eating something

Bitter: Tart, sharp, and sometimes harsh flavour.

Bittersweet: Less harsh than bitterness. Tartness + sweetness.

Bland: Has no significant flavor or texture

Briny: Just means salty. Often describes pickled foods.

Citrusy: Bright flavour like… well citrus fruits—oranges, lemons, limes, etc.

Cooling: Mimics that cooling feel—like mint.

Earthy: Reminiscent of soil. Can be used to describe wines, root vegetables, and mushrooms.

Fiery: Another word for spicy.

Fresh: Light and crisp—describes produce or herbs.

Fruity: Sweet and reminiscent of fruit.

Full-bodied: Rich and ‘feels heavy’ in your mouth. Can describe wines or soups.

Herbal: Bright, fresh, sometimes earthy from the presence of herbs

Honeyed: Sweet or candied taste like honey.

Nutty: Taste similar to the flavors of nuts. Often used to describe certain cheeses.

Rich: Full, heavy flavour. Often dishes that contain cream taste rich.

Robust: Rich + Earthy. Used for lots of wines or aged liquor.

Savory: Describes meaty, earthy dishes and soups.

Sharp: Harsh, bitter, or tart taste. Used to describe acidic foods.

Smoky: Reminiscent of the smell of smoke.

Sour: Biting, tangy, tart flavor.

Spicy: Burning taste.

Sweet: Sugary.

Tangy: Tart, biting taste—feels tingly

Tart: Sharp, bitter, or sour flavour. Used to describe acidic foods.

Woody: Earthy, sometimes nutty taste. Describes some coffees or cheeses.

Yeasty: Earthy taste reminiscent of yeast. Describes beer and bread.

Zesty: Fresh, vivid, or invigorating flavour.

Sound/Texture:

Sound has a lot to do with texture, so I've combined them for this section!

Airy: Light, pillowy texture (think inside of croissant)

Brittle: Hard but easy to break

Bubbly: Usually during heating, when bubbles rise to the surface—low sound.

Buttery: Smooth, creamy texture (think certain pasta sauces)

Chewy: Food that needs to be chewed thoroughly. Can be light and bouncy (chewy bread) or heavy (steak) and sticky (candy)

Creamy: A smooth and rich texture, comes from dairy.

Crispy: Light texture with slight crunch.

Crumbly: Food with loose structure that falls apart into crumbs.

Crunchy: Firm, crisp texture with a sharp, loud noise.

Crusty (behave): Food with a hard outer layer and soft interior (many loaves and breads)

Delicate: Light and fine, feels like it can come apart easily.

Doughy: Soft and heavy, usually pale colouring.

Fizzy: Usually liquids—a hissing sound, feels like ‘static’

Flaky: Light, characterized by layers that come apart during eating.

Fluffy: light and airy.

Frothy/Foamy: Airy bubbles, usually in a drink like a latte.

Gamey: Usually refers to meats when they’re very “meaty”

Gooey: Viscous, sometimes sticky texture from moisture in a dense/solid food.

Hearty: Firm, robust texture.

Juicy: Tender and succulent texture from liquid in a solid food (steak)

Molten: Hot, gooey

Oily: Slick, heavy, lingers on the tongue.

Silky: Fine, smooth texture that feels sleek.

Smooth: Texture free of grit, lumps, or edges.

Snap: A quick, sharp, crackling sound when broken.

Squelch: A soft sucking sound when pressure is applied. Somewhat gross.

Sticky: Gluiness in the mouth.

Succulent: Tender and juicy

Tender: Soft and easy to break down

Velvety: Smooth and rich

Smell:

Acrid: Strong, bitter, unpleasant

Comforting: pleasant, probably calls back to a nice memory

Damp: Wet smelling—probably a bit earthy

Delicate: subtle, faint, not overpowering

Earthy: reminiscent of soil

Fetid: Caused by decay—unpleasant

Fishy: reminiscent of fish

Floral/flowery: Reminiscent of flowers

Fragrant: Sweet or pleasing

Fresh: Cool, crisp, refreshing—produce, probably not cooked

Funky: Something’s gone off

Heady: Strong smell, pungent, rich

Musty: Not fresh

Perfumed: Pleasant, reminiscent of something (can be perfumed with citrus, say)

Piquant: stinging, pungent—tickles the nose

Powerful: strong

Rancid: Definitely gone off, decomposing

Ripe: Strong, usually unpleasant smell

Savory: spicy, salty, no elements of sweetness

Sour: has gone off

Spicy: Sharp, tingles the nose

Tangy: Strong and bitter but in a good way

Tart: Sharp

Woody: earthy smell, reminiscent of wood

Sight:

Usually texture gives us a really good picture of what a food looks like, so here’s some non-texture sight additions:

Blistered: Bumpy exterior.

Caramelized: Usually golden brown

Cloudy: Splotched. Almost see through if not for a slight white or grey mist.

Colourful: Bright and vibrant

Glassy: Resembling glass

Glossy: Smooth, shiny

Marbled: Two colours intertwined

Opaque: Not transparent. Can’t see through.

Ripe: Colourful (can be to a fault). Nearing the end of its edible state.

Scaly: Covered in scales, fish.

Shiny: Appears wet or glossy

Sparkling: Glimmers under the light

Stuffed: An ingredient placed inside a larger part with no additional space.

Translucent: Allows light through

Vibrant: Striking, bright

Food Prep:

How the food is prepared gives it these other attributes. If your character is familiar with cooking (or is the cook themselves!) they may describe food this way.

Baked: Cooked in an oven. Results in browned or crispy outer layer.

Blackened: When food is dipped in butter and coated with spices then cooked in a hot pan—spices darken, making it appear ‘blackened’

Blanched: Food scalded in boiling water and moved to cold water so it stops cooking. Texture comes out soft.

Braised: Food that is briefly fried in fat and then stewed in a pot. Results in seared, crispy exterior with a tender interior.

Breaded: Coated with breadcrumbs/batter then baked or fried so it turns crispy

Broiled: Food cooked with intense radiant heat in an oven or on the grill. Results in a darkened appearance and crispy texture.

Caramelized: Food slow-cooked until it’s browned, nutty, and has a bit of sweetness.

Charred: Grilled, roasted, or broiled and gains a blackened exterior and smoky flavor.

Fermented: Food that’s sat with bacteria, yeast, or another microorganism and has produced acids, alcohols, or gases. Results in a biting, pungent flavor. (Kimchi is fermented)

Fried: Food cooked by submerging in hot oil. Creates crispy, crunchy texture and golden colour.

Glazed: Food with a coating brushed onto its surface. Appears glossy with a thin, flavorful, and crisp outer layer.

Infused: Food steeped in liquid with another ingredient so it carries the essence of that ingredient. Used with herbs usually.

Marinated: Usually meat soaked in liquid containing flavourful herbs, spices, vinegar, or oil.

Poached: Food cooked in near boiling water. Results in tender, moist texture.

Roasted: Food cooked with dry heat in an oven or over the fire. Results in browned exterior and crisp coating.

Sautéed: Food cooked quickly in small amount of fat.

Seared: Food cooked in small amount of fat until caramelized. Finished by roasting or grilling. Results in crisp exterior and tender interior.

Smoked: Food exposed to smoke from smoldering wood for a long time. Results in that distinctive smoky flavor.

Whipped: Food beaten to incorporate air. Light and fluffy.

What did I miss?

[thecutestgrotto]

Can we please get some picnic themed dividers? Please and thanks!

Hey anon!! Thanks for the request, I decided to add some foods as well to match the baskets and blankets 🩵🌸

Summer Picnic

[lightwing-s]

𝐅𝐎𝐎𝐃 𝐕𝐋𝐎𝐆𝐆𝐄𝐑! 𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐃𝐄𝐑 ― ☀ 𝐚 𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭

a compilation of blurbs and extras

blurbs

✾ "She has a boyfriend"

✾ Possessive of his chef

✾ My girlfriend

✾ "Got a mind for delivery?

✾ Bad day huggies

✾ Meeting Alfred for the first time + Alfred's pov

✾ How it started

✾ Alfred's muffins

✾ Tim finds out

✾ Tim's first time in a vlog

extras

✾ instagram profiles

[ltwilliammowett]

Masterlist - Cooking like a Sailor

Ship’s bicuits  - here

An Admiral's Dinner  - here

The mysterious Sailor's English Plum Pudding   - here

Canned Willie - here

Welsh Rabbit or Scotch Rabbit  - here

Stonington Clam Chowder - here

Portable Soup  -here

Feeding the Navies - America - here

Cheese purchased by the Navy - here

Rum and other alcoholic rations on board ships - here

Sweets at Sea - here

Food and Drink Slang in the Navy - here

Feeding the Navy - here

Livestock aboard - here

Provisions for an Arctic Voyage - here

1812 Hot Chocolate - here

Rum and Grog the Sailor's life elixir - here

Water bewitched and Tea begrudged - here

Labskaus/ Lobscouse - the weird sailor's dish - here

Syllabub - here

Crew’s Coffee - here

Nelson’s Blood - here

Yo ho and a bottle of rum - alcohol aboard Ships - here

[gabriellerudessa]

Compass (Norm Maclean x OC) - I

"Look at him, all smart at turning off the light." A voice whispered close to his ear, thick and rough. "Listen." The voice got even lower, and he did, even if unconsciously, half of him certain that at any point there would be a knife, either against his throat or through his back.

AO3 | Part II | Part III | Part IV | Part V | Part VI | Part VII | Part VIII | Part IX | Part X | Part XI | Part XII | Part XIII | Part XIV | Part XV | Part XVI | Part XVII | Part XVIII | Part XIX | Part XX | Part XXI (Smut) | Part XXII | Part XXIII | Part XXIV | Part XXV | Part XXVI (Smut) | Part XXVII | Part XXVIII | Part XXIX | Part XXX | Part XXXI | Part XXXII | Part XXXIII |

PLAYLIST ON YOUTUBE

(I recommend hearing "Compass" by Sail North, it's my main writing song for this one, but there is also "Brave New World" by Starset and "Nails" by Call me Karizma, don't ask me about the last one, I don't know too. Good reading!)

Word Count: 4.323

Warnings: ... Wasteland Typical Violence

I

"Ran out the door some years ago

Slinging words at my old man like thistles and stones

Said: No need to worry, I’ll never come home

My mom crying: Don’t go, as I raced down the road

Straight through 'till Sun fell I kept up the pace

'Till darkness embraced me and I lost my way"

(Compass - Sail North)

He stumbled outside, forcing his legs as he heard the grinding sound of the Vault door closing echoing behind him. His feet slid down the sand and he dry-swallowed, steps fast amidst the ruins - he had been lucky, managing to escape that weird robot Bud and to slink around Vault 33 and reach the outside door.

He had thought of trying to reach out Chet, tell the others, tell what he had discovered... But the before of Vault 32 was still fresh in his mind. They had discovered, and it had led to madness. And people were still so tense... Either they wouldn't believe him, or they would, and then... They weren't made for this type of thing, too innocent and naïve as the talks about how to deal with the invaders had shown, and with no will of trying to learn more. Properly raised to be agreeable. It would only make things worse.

Norm didn't want that to happen with the ones he knew, no matter how... Complicated things usually were, how out of place he felt. And after all of Betty's veiled threats, after the deaths of the invaders, he was pretty sure he would either be killed or framed for those deaths. It didn't matter if he never told a soul, he knew too much, didn't complied when they wanted him to.

No. Leaving and try to find Lucy, tell her everything, that their father was not who they thought, was his best bet. Still didn't know what to do after, but still. Better than stay, silent and frustrated and unable to do anything.

Even if survival seemed equally unlikely above.

He stopped by a shadow, blinking at the darkening sky; he had been so desperate to leave before anyone really noticed him that he hadn't noticed how late in the day it was. Norm grimaced as he took a sip of water from his canteen. Night fast approaching, supplies far from ideal because of his fast escape, no weapons, no experience outside the Vault...

He better survive enough to find Lucy. She better be alive, or he would kill her himself again. Somehow.

---------

An old night vision scope showed the fire glimmering in light green, the electrified bodies of radroaches starting to pile around it. A reasonable haul for one night of hunting; after dry, it would sell fast in Filly.

If the Brotherhood didn't give her shit as she tried to enter the city. Damn, had they made everything more complicated. Why had they even come?

She hoped at least one molerat would stumble into it before the traps' batteries ran out; their leather was useful, and once treated reached good prices, especially with shoemakers - not as good as brahmin leather, but useful enough for the craft and one of her family's main income.

Moving the scope around the terrain, she kept her old, trusty hunting rifle ready and close by her hand. It was a shame the scope was so bulky; she had tried again and again to attach it to the rifle, but either it didn't stuck, or it messed up the weapons weight. Not even Mika had been able to make it work. In the end the scope just remained dangling from a leather cord around her neck when not in use.

She contracted her legs, keeping the muscles from falling asleep from her immobility in her hiding spot. She would be damned if pinpricks and needles stopped her from moving when needed.

Movement caught her attention at the edges of the scope and she moved it, centralizing the movement.

Through the shades of green, she recognized the human proportions. Too far away to identify too many details, half fallen walls and columns obstructing the view half the time but... Yeah, a person trying to skulk around the ruins. In the Wasteland. During the night. And... Yep, a lit flashlight. They were walking carefully from what she saw, sure, but... Did they have a death wish?

She watched some more, cursing the low resolution of the scope; more steps, going in a more open area, steps insecure... And the direction made her sure that soon the person would see the fire.

And in the night, would walk towards it. Maybe steal her haul, maybe take a shock and mess up her traps, maybes maybes maybes... Too many maybes for her.

"Fuck." she mumbled, lowering the scope with a scowl towards where she had last seen the person, just a smidge of a silhouette in the dark ruins, already amidst the walls again.

Still cursing under her breath, she got up, practiced movements hanging the backpack over her back and rifle over a shoulder in less than ten seconds, sliding down the old fireman's pole.

---------

Norm kept walking across the ruins long after the sun had set, trying to keep behind the half-standing walls and use his height to stay out of sight. The sounds of the wind across the sand and ruins around him low, rumbling, all-encompassing. It was unnerving after how silent the Vault was most of the time, just steps against metal and voices.

It was hard to process that wind could make so much noise when his only examples were old movies.

A space in the ruins opened ahead, and a small focus of light flashed across the night, reaching some walls. Frowning, he slowed his steps, carefully moving around the rocks and broken concrete, and his eyes fell on a burning fire, right in the open, on the top of a small hill of sand, almost detached from the rest of the ruins, and he stopped.

Norm could notice something glimmering around it, at some distance in the ground... But besides, it was just that. The fire, burning. No people, no nothing.

He turned off his Pip-boy's flashlight.

Something slid across his face and covered his mouth - a hand? -, a presence behind him, blocking the wind and the desert's cold. Damn it. Damn it.

"Look at him, all smart at turning off the light." A voice whispered close to his ear, thick and rough. "Listen." The voice got even lower, and he did, even if unconsciously, half of him certain that at any point there would be a knife, either against his throat or through his back.

First the wind whistling, the sand slowly being blown off, the crackling of the fire... And then in the wind a small, skittering sound, and as he watched the fire, something approached... And an arc of electricity, a high pitched but brief noise, something jumping and falling, too big, darkness and distance making it difficult to actually see.

"Radroach. Nasty things in group, kinda bitter, but food is food. Easy to catch if you know how." Norm filled away the whisper, waiting during a beat of silence. Still no knife, no nothing. "All righty, it seems we are clear for now. There is a house still standing with a door close by, let's go."

The hand fell away from him, and Norm waited for a heartbeat, but there was only the soft sound of a step, no other attempt at touching him, no knife at his back.

"Why should I go with you?" He whispered back, turning halfway, the light of the distant fire just enough to highlight edges.

It was enough for him to notice that the person was probably taller and bigger than Chet. Not by much, but still a terrifying prospect, because they had done absolutely no sound when approaching.

A chuckle, and something in it was distinctly feminine.

"You do you, Vaultie, but I'm going. Wasteland nights in the outside ain't pretty or fun. Just keep away from my trap, hm?"

The woman turned and started walking.

Norm watched, looked over his shoulder at the fire still burning, the bait for something he didn't even knew in a place he still needed to learn all about, which rules applied and which didn’t...

She was at the fourth step when he started following, another chuckle, a hand waving him ahead.

"Keep the flashlight off and walk besides me." Norm couldn't avoid a huff but did as told.

A rock made him stumble and a hand at his shoulder kept him from falling. He squinted at the night, tempted to light the flashlight... But the skittering sound replayed in his head, the fire a bait, and he kept it off.

---------

His eyes had slowly adapted enough to not stumble all the time, so it was easy to notice the silhouette of the woman stopping by an old and cracked wooden door. Norm doubted it would actually protect them from something, but it was better than all the half-walls.

She put a hand at the doorknob, another raising something to her eye, and Norm rolled his eyes. Of course she had something to see in the dark.

The door slowly inched open, hinges grinding, and he winced. She stuck her head inside for a moment, came out, took a rock from the ground and threw inside, a muffled bang reaching him.

They waited and listened, but there was no other sound for long moments, and she signaled for him to enter. The woman followed a moment later, carefully closing the door. The darkness deepened, only small cracks in walls and roof allowing slivers of moonlight inside, and the lack of wind blowing against him made him notice how cold it was outside.

"You can turn on the flashlight. I'll verify the rest of the house."

Her steps were faster than his hands, the light catching only the ends of leather boots - old, stained, but well cared and well made.

He looked around; sandy, but not like outside, barred windows keeping the night and wind out there. Some old chairs, three still up but not safe-looking. A table broken in the middle, missing a leg. A shelf, empty and stained but standing.

"No animals, the other door and windows still securely barred." The woman got closer, and Norm turned, the flashlight giving a face to the voice.

Yep. Taller and broader than Chet at shoulders and hips and... Everything, really. She looked able to break his neck with nary a thought. But she hadn't, he reassured himself.

Yet.

Jeans, shirt and short leather cape over shoulders, a type of bag-belt around hips and thighs, full of pockets, a hunting rifle slung on one shoulder. Clothes weathered with old stains, flakes of sand drifting off, and neatly mended innumerous times.

Above it all, a square jaw, rounded chin, high cheekbones, a large mostly-straight nose - it was pretty clear the bridge had been broken and not put in place correctly before the bone glued back. Weathered brown skin, hair a brownish-auburnish dirty color with strands against her face, metal rings glinting in her eyebrow and ears. He couldn't estimate her age safely.

And the scars. Those made him blink for a second. A large burn stripe at one cheek, scraggly lines across her nose, what suspiciously looked as claw marks at the other cheek, a cut from the bottom lip to the chin... In the harsh light of his flashlight, the scars looked deep, furrows marring the skin like rivers in the desert.

So unlike the invaders, with no facial scars to outright make someone suspicious, and at the same time something in the eyes and posture was exactly like them.

"Seeing something pretty, Vaultie?"

Her voice cut his observation, and Norm focused in time to catch the raised eyebrow and cheeky grin, a gap showing where she had lost a tooth.

"Just... " he shook his head, uncertain of what to say as she landed her backpack in the ground, things inside clinking. "... Thinking." he ended with a shrug as she released an old oil lantern from the backpack, positioning it at the shelf and lighting it.

He turned off his flashlight, the light from the lantern illuminating the room better in a warm, diffuse light that softened her face in a way that made him think that she shouldn't be much older than him, actually.

"Fair enough." She plopped down by her backpack, legs crossed, rifle besides her. "There are still some hours before the sun graces us, so make yourself comfortable, Vaultie."

He carefully sat down opposite her, eyes occasionally glinting towards the rifle.

That, plus what he now could see was an old scope dangling from her neck, and the fact that he had barely heard her steps, before and after, solidified in his mind that she could've killed him anytime, but hadn't. Why?

A zipping sound, and the woman took a canteen and a cloth packet from the backpack. A piece of what appeared to be jerky was taken from the packet, and the sound of chewing filled the room.

"Got food and water with you, Vaultie?"

"It's Norm. And yes, I do."

Not enough.

He didn't say that while he took his own canteen and one Fancy Lads Snack Cakes from his sidebag.

"Good." She nodded, taking a sip of the water. "And it's Marigold here, if you're wondering."

They ate mostly in silence, the wind still noising around outside; Norm watched and noticed how her eyes - mismatched, one brown and one black - didn't stay in a single place for long, head leaned this way and that at each different spike in sound outside, wide, thick lips twisting occasionally before relaxing. He heard those too, but didn't have enough context to say what caused them. Or where.

And he hated that, the unknown.

"Sooo, Norm... Is it ok of me to ask why you left your Vault?"

He looked up from closing his side-bag, and Marigold was mostly watching him, knees up and arms crossed over them. Why hadn't she killed him?

"To find my sister. She... Left some time ago."

Just his sister. No father, no kidnapping, no attack, nothing beyond Lucy, because after his discovery, he wasn’t certain if it was safe to go around saying all about that.

She frowned at him, a pensive hand at her chin.

"... I heard of a Vaultie girl in Filly recently, from a merchant..." Norm perked up at the snippet of information.

"Where's that?"

"Not too far, but I don't recommend. The Brotherhood occupied it recently, and they can get really frisky with pre-war tech." Marigold nodded towards his Pip-Boy, and Norm's hand covered it, almost absentmindedly.

"Brotherhood?" He repeated, and she grimaced, scratching at her head.

"Fuck. All righty, time for a crash-course."

---------

The lantern's light dimmed as the time passed, the woman pretended to nap - her fingers were just too tight against the rifle, no way she was actually sleeping -, and Norm reflected on what Marigold had shared about the surface. Not extensive, but enlightening.

Filly, a small city, where most travelling merchants passed through. Even if Lucy hadn't been the "Vaultie girl" Marigold had heard about, it was his best bet of where to find information.

However, the so called Brotherhood of Steel... Marigold had been clear in saying that meeting one on a day-to-day life was usually fine, as long as you didn't get in the way of whatever they were doing, their "mission", which usually involved pre-war tech. Filly was the first place she knew they had occupied, and while she hadn’t visited yet, she had heard enough of wandering trading caravans to know that, a lot of the times, when they occupied a place and insisted they had arrived to "bring order", things could get nasty, especially if there was pre-tech around or, as she had put very sarcastically "normal Ghouls and other mutants. God forbid people have consequences from radiation".

He hadn't asked details about Ghouls and mutants yet; he didn't want to go on a tangent.

She had never heard of them trying to occupy a functioning Vault, but she still said he should thread carefully when dealing with them, if only because his Pip-boy was still functional.

Norm hadn’t talked about it, but he was pretty sure that the cryogenic technology in Vault 31 probably would attract unwanted attention if they heard about it so yeah, that advice he was taking to heart. It was what had probably attracted that Moldaver woman, after all.

Maybe she was with them? Them why had she caused a bunch of deaths, kidnapped his father, and then just… Left? He was still missing something.

There had also been mention of more factions by name, but she hadn't gone in details beyond "stay away from Bounty Hunters, you never know whose price is up". New thing to learn: how the hell do you identify a Bounty Hunter?

She ended talking about some of the more common and obvious dangers of the Wastelands - raiders, slavers, cannibals, feral ghouls, and a dozen of mutated animals. Not as common as she made them sound, "no sir, I just survive from hunting through dangerous places and as long as one tries to keep to a settlement they should be safe from these".

"Until some maniac tech-hoarding zealot order decided to occupy such settlement, that is" had escaped him and she had laughed loudly at that.

The "crash-course", as she had put, had fizzled out and she claimed she was going to sleep, still sitting, and Norm remained wide awake, thinking, one single feeling taking hold of him, resuming everything she had said: it was all about survival, and too many people didn’t care if it meant trampling over others.

The “Wasteland”, as she had called, was even worse than he had thought.

And the people in Vault were talking about teaching and rehabilitating the invaders. They didn’t have the barest notion. And he was starting to understand that neither did him.

After how she had immediately noticed he was a Vault Dweller, and what she said about everyone and everything else, Norm reached the conclusion he would need to not look out-of-place, at least long enough to snoop around the mentioned city, Filly, and discover if it had been Lucy there and where she might have gone.

And he hadn't even started to think about supplies and the local currency she had briefly explained - "caps".

Norm sighed and pinched his nose. He could barely look in-place in the Vault where he had spent his whole life, on the so-called Wasteland? He doubted he had a chance.

"You should try and sleep a little." Marigold's voice cut the silence, the brown eye open and watching him.

"And you have been doing a lot of it, I see."

---------

Marigold chuckled, straightening herself.

"Guilty as charged."

She didn't tell it was because he thought loudly - not literally, he had been quiet as the grave until that sigh. Only, she had been hunting in the Wastes as far as she could remember, and she had learned that silence was louder just before something dangerous appeared to take you out. Not even her house was ever silent, with the generators and fans in the tanning room and the turrets and so many people inside at any given moment, never everyone sleeping at the same time because someone had to keep watch. Despite the wind and all the living sounds of the desert outside, the silence inside had made sleep impossible.

Silence fell again, and Marigold knew sleep would keep avoiding her. Abandoning the pretense, she watched Norm watch the room, his eyebrows furrowed in thought.

Half of her still doubted she had truly stumbled into an actual Vaultie. And from Vault 33, whose door she occasionally passed by during her hunting routes. Pristine, no signs of ever being forced open... She had always wondered if there were still people alive inside.

Now she had her answer. She just hadn't expected someone so... Small.

Granted, most people looked small next to her, but still. At first, in the dark, she almost had thought he was a kid; the pinpricks of facial hair against her hand and the voice had said that nope, adult man there.

And one of the neatest she had ever seen: the dark hair still combed, nails clean and trimmed...

"It's the suit."

"'m sorry?"

"My suit. The Vault suit. It attracts attention." Norm rubbed the leather wrists of the suit between two fingers.

Marigold couldn't avoid a small smile. Fast learner. He should be fine in the Wasteland as soon as he found his way of doing things.

"Not in itself. Enough Vaults went to shit and were scavenged that a bunch of suits roam around, but some people may know that 33 is not one of them."

"People like you." He frowned more at her, letting go of the sleeve, and Marigold shrugged.

"The door is in my hunting routes and there is no sign of ever being breached."

Norm nodded, still pensive.

Marigold tapped a finger against her thigh, lips pressed in a line; from where they were, her home was in the middle of the route to Filly, and she did had some things, scavenged and hunted, she needed to drop off with her parents and younger nephews and nieces before travelling to Filly.

Chewing on the inside of her cheek, she watched him some more.

Searching his sister. She thought there was more, but she wasn't about to point fingers and demand answers, people had a right to their secrets.

With half a dozen siblings, by blood and adopted, wandering the region like her or living farther away, hunting and scavenging and trading, she understood the uncertainty. The fear that something had happened. The only difference was that she knew exactly where her siblings were and how to find them if they weren't.

Fuck. Just last month her parents, all three of them, had said she was as sappy as all the rest of the family. She had really been thinking the “sappy gene” had jumped her.

Letting her head fall against the wall, she looked at the ceiling instead of Norm. It allowed her to notice that the cracks were starting to be illuminated from outside. She better do her offer, they didn't had much time to get moving.

"I could take you to my family. They'll have something you can use to cover at least your back. And, fuck, enough merchants pass by that someone might have heard something about another Vaultie, it would be safer than getting close to the Brotherhood."

Marigold looked at him only when she finished.

Norm was frowning so much that she bet he would get a headache.

"... How can I be sure you're not just attracting me to a better place to slash my neck or that your family is a bunch of cannibals or whatever?"

She could see he was serious, but there was just enough of a drawl in his words that it sounded slightly sarcastic. It was literally the only reason she didn’t take offense on the “cannibals”: human meat was sometimes used as bait by them, but never as food.

So Marigold allowed herself to grin back, raising both eyebrows.

"Naw, it would be a crime to slash open someone so cute." Her eyes slinked across Norm for a moment, don't bothering to try and decipher his facial expression, and yep. No fucking weapons. That suit didn’t allow much space for such. God damn it.

Sighing, she pulled a sheathed knife from inside her boot and extended towards him; she had enough knifes that giving one away wouldn't be that big of a problem.

Sappy indeed, giving away a weapon to someone she had just met in exchange for absolutely nothing. Thank God no one from her family was close, she wouldn't survive their teasing that she was finally a Whole Bear.

She also hoped they wouldn’t discover this, or the teasing would happen anyway.

"Here. Even if you decide to part ways. Knives are the most useful thing out here."

Norm took the knife gingerly through the handle, frown smoothing a little.

"... Thanks."

Marigold looked up again, natural sunlight starting to enter in full.

"Day is breaking. The Wastes will be a little safer now." She got up, turning off the oil lantern. Hopefully nothing would've had messed up her trap in the last hours.

---------

Norm would've liked to say that he had actually grappled with the option Marigold had presented for a long time, uncertain about his safety and her intentions.

It had actually just taken the time for him to unsheathe the knife and confirm that, despite the old blood-stains, rust-red against the brown leather of both handle and sheath, the blade was well-kept, sharp, bigger than the kitchen knives he used in the Vault. Useful. She could've killed him, but hadn't, and when confronted with "what ifs" regarding his worry about himself, gifted him a weapon, no strings attached.

Maybe it would bit him in the butt later, but for now... Well, she hadn't killed him yet.

Marigold had already left, the door not totally closed. Norm went after her, blinking and squinting in the bright light.

"Who would imagine that actual sun is such a pain..." He used the arm not holding the sheathed knife to try and protect his eyes.

He heard a laugh and turned his head, arm still raised.

Marigold was just a few steps ahead, half turned, smile in her lips, the sun bringing forth golden undertones to her skin and hair.

"I gather you didn't arrive during the day..."

Norm shook his head, lowering his arm when his eyes got used to the light, and closed the door of the shambling house. Marigold leaned her head to the side, still watching him.

"Are you coming?"

"You actually know how things over here work, so yes." He approached, storing the knife in his sidebag.

Marigold's smile got bigger and he slipped into walking besides her.

[homesteadingqueer]

Homesteading Resources Master Post

So, I have been really into homesteading lately, you call it a hyperfixation, I call it free dopamine. This is my masterlist of sources for different aspects of homesteading life. I plan on making a life in the city homesteading masterlist too. Please be careful when canning a preserving food, I am not an expert, but these sources seemed credible so be sure to can with caution.

Happy Homesteading!

General

Homesteading 101

Skills to Develop

Farmers Market Directory

Ways to make a Profit

Farmer's Almanac

Livestock

Livestock Pros and Cons

Meat Rabbit Guide

Pigs Guide

Chicken Guide

Ducks Guide

Goat Guide

Sheep Guide

Meat Cow Guide

Milk Cow Guide

Gardening

Composting

USA Planting Zones

Europe Planting Zones

Homemade Pest Control

High Yield Garden

High Yield Vegetables

Pollinator Garden

Canning

Canning 101

Fruit

Vegetables

Kitchen

Veggie Recipes

Bone Broth

Wheat to Bread

Sustainability

Self Sufficiency

Reduce, Reuse, Recycling

Clothes Mending

Crafts

Cross Stitch

Embroidery

Whittling

Crochet

Quilting

Knitting

[strangergraphics]

under the cut are a variety

of food & drink themed dividers.

please like & credit if you use, reblogs are appreciated!

• fruit:

- one

- two

• milk cartons & bottles

• cola & bacon

• popsicles & ice cream

masterlist • navigation

[wolfprincesszola]

Echoes of 50 Masterlist

Hello everyone! This is a work that's been in the making for a little over 5 months now! I really hope you guys enjoy this, as it is only one of the amazing fics of this year's Big Bang Event hosted at @tss-storytime! As with every big bang event, there's always an artist and I'm so lucky to have worked with @thebestworstidea. The art she did for my story is absolutely phenomenal, so go check her out! ------------ Summary: Logan Sanders had spent his entire life hearing thoughts from everyone around him: strangers, family, friends, and more. He had learned more about people than he ever wanted to hear, but it became very useful when it came to gaining useful information.

His one goal in life? Find out what the government filled to the brim with powerless people has in store for him and the rest of the population with powers and stop it from happening.

Which was why it was even weirder when he had run into the prettiest man he had ever seen who just so happened to have the answers he might have been searching for. Unfortunately for him and for some frustratingly unknown reason, Patton Morris was immune to his telepathy.

The worst part? This cute guy seemed to be completely opposed against the government just as much as he was. Now it was up to him to decide if Patton was telling the truth and if Logan was to trust him in his crazy plans to try and overthrow the government. ------------

Characters: Logan, Patton, Roman, Remus, Janus, Virgil, Thomas, Emilie, Remy, Unsympathetic!Joan, Unsympathetic!Talyn, Unsympathetic!Orange Side, Unsympathetic!Friends_of_Thomas

Pairings: Logan/Patton (Logicality), Background Roman/Virgil (Prinxiety), Background Remus/Janus (Dukeceit), Hidden Remy/Emilie (Remilie)

Word Count: 55,210

Trigger Warnings: Major Character Death, Medical Trauma, Experimentation, Panic Attacks, Emotional Trauma, Abuse, Manipulation, Neglect

Content Warnings: Food, Swearing, Fighting

Art by @thebestworstidea

Read it at archiveofourown (click the underlined)!

<Prologue>

<Chapter 1>

<Chapter 2>

<Chapter 3>

<Chapter 4>

<Chapter 5>

<Chapter 6>

<Chapter 7>

<Chapter 8>

<Chapter 9>

<Chapter 10>

<Chapter 11>

<Chapter 12>

<Epilogue>

[sweetcherryslim]

Recipe Index

Coming soon!

[sweetmelodygraphics]

[theostrophywife]

Per Lucien request. Please just make my boy have a wonderful and happy life. Thank you ❤️

lover.

author's note: when i tell y’all that lucien has me in an absolute chokehold… warning: smut under the cut.

“What are you thinking about, lover?”

Lucien chuckles softly, tracing his fingers down your spine with a fond smile. The two of you decided to take the day off from duties and responsibilities, opting to stay in bed all day having lazy sex and savoring the pleasure of each other’s presence. As the sun sets over the horizon, basking your bedchambers in its soft golden hue, your lover, your mate, the other half of your soul, stares at you with such intensity that you’re convinced he’s trying to commit every curve, scar, and freckle of yours to memory.

“I’m thinking about what I’m always always thinking about,” Lucien replies, pressing a soft kiss on your bare shoulder. “You, my love.”

You giggle. “What about me?”

The redhead tugs at your wrist, pulling you flush against him. Your hands travel down his solid chest, those sculpted abs, that trim waist that you loved wrapping your legs around. Perfect. Lucien was so fucking perfect.

“How lucky I am to have you as my mate. You’re beautiful. Smart. Strong,” his fingers trail down the curve of your hips. “And incredibly sexy.”

“Mmm,” you murmur as Lucien trails further down, cupping your perky ass in his large hand. “I think I’m the lucky one, baby. You’re so perfect. So good to me. I couldn’t have asked for a better mate.”

Lucien groans. “You know I can’t resist you when you talk like that.”

“You never have to resist me, Lucien. I’m yours for the taking.”

The grin on his face was sly, curving through those plush lips with foxlike mischief. “Wicked little fox. Do you know how badly I crave you every time we’re apart?” He cups your breasts, his lips hot and needy against your skin while you arch into his mouth. “You consume my entire being. My lover. My wife. My mate.”

Gods, this male. You brush your lips against his, twining your fingers through his russet locks, grazing the side of his handsome face, running your thumb over his mechanical eye, down to those plush lips and sharp jawline. He was so pretty it was unfair.

“Say it again,” you breathe. You loved hearing Lucien call you his mate. Craved the possessiveness that took over him when he claims you.

Lucien smirks, flipping you underneath him and slipping into your already wet pussy with ease. It feels good, so good, to have his cock stuffed inside you once again, filling you to the brim as you gasp into his mouth. You take him so well, shifting your hips upwards in desperation despite the fact that he’s been fucking you since the break of dawn.

“My mate,” he repeats, watching his cock slide in and out of your pussy as he claims you. Lucien owns you, mind, body, and soul. “You’re mine.”

“I’m yours, Lucien.”

“Gods, baby,” he groans, feeling the slickness of your arousal coating his length. “How are you still so wet? Does it turn you on when I claim you like this? When I fuck you so well that everyone can hear your moans from miles away? Is my pretty little fox just dying to be reminded of who owns her?”

Lucien hikes your leg over his shoulder, rutting into you in a different position so he could thrust further in, stuffing you full and fucking you dumb into the mattress.

“So good. Feels so fucking good, baby,” you moan as Lucien picks up the pace. “Don’t stop, Lucien.”

“I wouldn’t dream of it, my love.”

Your mate captures your lips in his, swallowing every moan and whine that comes out of your mouth while he rolls his hips onto yours. You’re seeing stars as you close your eyes, grasping at Lucien’s back, wrapping your legs around his waist even tighter, your ankles slapping against his ass to take him in even deeper. You couldn’t fucking get enough.

Lucien’s silky hair falls like a curtain around you as his tongue slips into your mouth, devouring you as you both slip over the edge. As his thrusts grow more frantic, you could feel your orgasm nearing, your sixth or seventh of the day, and allow the wave of pleasure overtake your senses while Lucien growls. You cum from the sound alone and your mate follows soon after, spurting his seed into you. Lucien watches as the hot liquid trickles from your pussy, swiping his fingers and coating it with your arousal before bringing it to his mouth.

You groan at the sight, kissing the male with fervent passion. “I love you, Lucien.”

“I love you too, little fox.”

[brewed-pangolin]

Working on streamlining my masterlist a bit more. Please stand by and pay no mind to the noise.

[thecutestgrotto]

Tabby Cats

More cats here!

I accidentally deleted the request but someone requested tabby cats! 🩵🌸

[airjemsfandump]

≪ fanfiction °❈° masterlist ≫

︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵ ᴡᴇʟᴄᴏᴍᴇ ᴛᴏ ᴍʏ ꜰᴀɴꜰɪᴄᴛɪᴏɴ ᴄᴏʟʟᴇᴄᴛɪᴏɴ ─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

FIC TITLE 『 category, categories ┊ pairing/s ┊ status ┊ link ┊ cover 』 ─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

soon to come

WHAT IS ALL THIS SWEET WORK WORTH 『 F/F┊ Vertin/Scheider, Matilda & Sonetto, Vertin & Sonetto ┊ completed ┊ link ┊ cover N/A 』

soon to come

Drink to me only with thine eyes 『 M/M, F/F┊ Zayne/Rafayel, Xavier/Thomas, Angelica (MC)/Tara ┊ ongoing ┊ link ┊ cover (temp) 』

old memories of pleasure, ancient histories of pain 『 M/M ┊ Zayne/Rafayel ┊ ongoing ┊ link ┊ cover N/A 』

Because I wanted to be burned, stamped, to have something in the end 『 M/M┊ Zayne/Rafayel ┊ completed ┊ link ┊ cover N/A 』

Pray for Us Sinners 『 M/M┊ Zayne/Rafayel ┊ completed ┊ link ┊ cover 』

And suddenly we see that love costs all we are 『 M/M ┊ Xavier/Thomas ┊ completed ┊ link ┊ cover 』

soon to come

soon to come

[stellamancer]

hamburger emoji (implied katsuki bakugou x reader)

notes: hello, local deku lover here with yet another emotional support bakugou work. not sure why i go into depressive moods and decide ‘i think it’s a fine day to write about bakugou comforting me outta this’ since i go back and look at it and thing ‘wait is this even ic???’ lmao. also completely unedited because lazy lmao. 

It’s the world shattering sound of someone banging on your door that wakes you from your hibernation. 

You consider for a moment, maybe two, ignoring it. If it’s one of those door to door salespeople or some weirdo Christian missionaries they’ll leave after a few minutes when no one answers. Sure enough, the commotion at your front door grows silent and you start to ease back into dreamland. 

Until you hear the click of your lock. 

Now you’re wide awake, sitting up straight and wondering what to do next. If you were fully awake and your brain working at full capacity you would know that the only people who would be able to unlock your door are your friends whose fingerprints are registered with your door’s smart lock. However, you’re still half asleep and wondering if you should take an offensive stance or hurl yourself under the bed for protection. 

You choose the latter.

“What the hell are you doin’?” Bakugou’s voice is all bewilderment and for a split second you relax knowing the identity of your home invader, but then the fact that it’s him has you scrambling to get all the way underneath the bed frame because Bakugou might be worse than any random person breaking into your apartment. 

But you’re too slow, he manages to grab you by an ankle and using his stupid absurd strength he yanks you out from under the bed. When your eyes meet you give him a sheepish smile. “...hi?”

The frown is fixed on his face like a brand. “Well?”

“Well what?” you feign innocence, but it only serves to make him look even more annoyed.

“Cut the crap,” he snaps. “What were ya doin’ down there?”

“Um, well,” you pause, considering your possible explanations before settling on the truth. “I thought someone was breaking in and was trying to hide.”

His eye twitches. 

“Anyway, um, what brings you here today? It’s, um, Friday, right?”

Bakugou snorts. “Try Sunday, dumbass.”

You laugh. “Oh. I knew that, I was just testing you.”

That was the wrong thing to say, you realize, as Bakugou glares down at you, teeth glinting in an absolutely terrifying grin. “A test, huh? Then lemme ask you a question: why the hell haven’t you answered your phone for the past two fucking days?”

“Forgot to put it on the charger,” you answer almost instantly, almost perfectly practiced.

He scoffs and reaches into his pocket and pulls out his phone. Bakugou jams his fingers against the screen and a few seconds later you hear your phone ringing somewhere up on the bed. Bakugou is silent, but the smug look on his face says enough. 

You look away. “...I just… you know. “

Bakugou doesn’t respond, instead he pulls you up from off the ground. “....you eat yet?”

You open your mouth and he adds, an annoyed afterthought. “And don’t fucking lie about it either.”

“...no.”

He sighs. “...figured. I’m gonna use yer kitchen then. Go taking a fucking shower or something.”

You’re about to protest, but Bakugou eyes you threateningly. “Unless ya want me to wash your back or some shit.”

The look in his eyes makes it clear that he’s not intending to be nice about it if he helps bathe you. Whether that means he’s going to be rough with his scrubbing or his words, you don’t know nor do you want to. 

“No, I’m fine!” you squeak, moving to grab some clothes to change into. He watches as you scurry off toward the bathroom.

“If I don’t hear the water running in five minutes, I’m comin’ in to check on ya!” he threatens and you make sure to have it running in three. 

Sometime later, when you emerge from the shower, now fresh and clean, you find Bakugou in your kitchen, finely mincing up some vegetables. You eye the bags on the counter and realize he must have gone to the store before coming here.

“So, um,” you hedge. “What…. What are you making?”

“Hamburger steak,” he answers and it’s the first time since he’s got here today that he doesn’t sound agitated. “With some vegetables and shit.” 

“...shit?”

Bakugou points the knife threateningly at you. “You know what I mean, idiot.”

“...In Bakugou speak ‘shit’ can mean different things.”

“You know, yer pretty mouthy for someone who hasn’t eaten all damn day.”

“What can I say, it’s a special talent.” You nonchalantly wave your hand. 

Bakugou scoffs and lowers the knife. You think for a moment that your fabulous wit may have silenced the beast but then you notice him trade the knife for a spoon. He grabs a container and shovels a small bit of the contents onto a spoon and then thrusts that in your face. 

“...what’s this?” you ask, craning your head back to try and get a good look at it. 

“Shit.”

“Well if it’s—” He shoves the spoon into your mouth mid-sentence. It seems that right now ‘shit’ is pasta salad. You chew thoughtfully and swallow. 

Bakugou looks at you expectantly. 

“I’m not that big on pasta salad,” you start, reveling in how his lips turn into a frown. “But yours is pretty good. Not too much mayo.”

He looks satisfied with that and returns to his chopping.

After a minute of watching him you decide to ask your real question. “So, um. Why are you here?”

“...you seriously asking?”

“Uh. Yeah?”

Bakugou scowls. “...don’t be a fucking idiot. It’s only fucking natural to be concerned if some dumbass homebody doesn’t answer their damn phone for a couple days.”

“So you were just checking up on me?”

Bakugou gives you a pointed look before he starts mixing the stuff he was chopping up with what looks like ground meat in a bowl. You watch him in silence as he continues to prep the stuff for the hamburger steak, unsure of what you should say, if anything. 

You don’t know if you should apologize for making him worry. He’s a busy guy and he took time to come to your apartment and make you food instead of relaxing at home or doing whatever he does with his free time. But if you apologize, surely he’ll berate you for it. Tell you to at least respond to some of the missed texts you have so people don’t worry. 

So instead, you say, “...thanks.” 

“...’s nothin’,” he grouches. “Just fuckin’ answer your phone next time.”

“....even if I feel like human garbage?”

“Especially then, idiot. How’s anyone gonna know if you don’t tell anyone?”

“It’s not that easy.”

Bakugou is silent as he shapes the hamburger patties and you take that as him acknowledging your point. A minute passes and after he’s satisfied with the patty in his hands he moves over to the sink and washes his hands. You watch him curiously, noticing that there’s still a fair amount of meat left in the mixing bowl that hasn’t been formed yet. Bakugou dries his hands on a kitchen towel and reaches his hand into his pocket and pulls out his phone again. 

Then he shoves the screen in your face. It’s opened to your messages and in the text box is a single emoji. 

“If y'feel like shit just send me this,” he instructs.

“A hamburger?” you ask, squinting at it. 

“I know what it fucking is,” he growls. “It’s the closest thing to a hamburger steak.”

Fair point. You look beyond the screen to him. “But why?” 

Bakugou rolls his eyes like it’s supposed to be obvious. “So I know to come feed you, idiot. You’ll feel less shitty if y'eat.”

“Okay, but why a hamburger…?” You pause, and then ‘correct’ yourself. “Or well, I guess it’s meant to be hamburger steak here.”

“It’s your favorite food, ain’t it?”

You stare at him for a second, contemplating which of the two responses in your head you want to voice. Then, you pick one. “...yeah, yeah it is.”

Bakugou nods and goes back to cooking while you sit and watch, wondering how he knew your favorite food. 

And how the answer to that should be obvious. 

Though you won’t know for sure if he tells you.

If he ever does.