#pickled wheat? more like pickled what

[mara-phelion]

HELLO???

[mydearesthrry]

hayday, braids, and chocolate - h.s.

a/n: self indulgent as fuck. wrote this a couple of hours ago…hope u enjoy as always 😘

wc: 1.1k (shes a shorty!)

cw: fluff. name calling i guess? in a joking and loving way <3, one suggestive sentence ig

summary: sundays with harry <3

A movie was playing softly in the background, Harry and Y/N talking about god knows what as he laid on his back, head resting on the armrest of the couch. Laying on her tummy against his chest, her chin was propped up on the back of her hands as her palms rested on his shirtless chest, neck craned to look at him as they spoke.

About anything, really.

“No, I honestly have t’say tha’ I disagree with you, lovie,” He looked to the ceiling in thought. “How could you possibly even bend that way? I know for a fact that y’aren’t flexible, there’s jus’ no way y’can prop up y’legs behind y’head.”

“Harry, do you actually think that all our millionaire friends stay at every house they own?”

“I actually haven’t thought about tha’, and I have a scary feelin’ that y’might be right. What d’they even put in these things? Like… what is a gusher?”

Or the occasional switch in position, Harry still on his back and Y/N now on hers with her back to his chest. Most likely for a phone break— or, more like Y/N getting stuck on TikTok and forcing Harry to watch with her.

“Jesus Christ, how much red 40 are in those fucking pickles?”

“Holy shit, tha’ dog is so fat.”

“Are you seeing what I’m seeing right now?”

“Yeah, lovie. Tha’s a guinea pig wearing a cowboy hat. With m’initials on it.”

Or… just them sitting in silence. For the most part.

“Harry…” YN sighed, clicking at her phone. Her legs were slung over Harry’s thighs, her back resting against the arm of the couch. They’d switched positions a couple of hours ago, now sitting in complete silence as they became iPad kids and tapped away on their respective devices.

“Yeah, m’love?” Harry said, setting his crops into the dirt before looking at her, his head turned and tilted slightly like a puppy.

“D’you have any corn or wheat?” She asked, needing to plant some on her HayDay farm. She knew he would know what she was talking about, seeing as HayDay had been their new obsession as of recent.

“Were you staring at my phone or summat?” He gasped with a bewildered look.

“...No?” She questioned. She laughed when he turned his phone screen to face her, HayDay opened on his phone as well. Turning his phone back to face him, a few beats passed with them sitting in silence, their noses both stuck in their phones.

“So… do you?”

“Yep, just put them on m’market.”

“And that, is why I love you.”

—

“Ow! Tha’ fuckin’ hurt, babe.” Harry groaned, pulling his girlfriend’s fingers from his hair.

“Oh suck it up, you big baby. You asked me to massage your scalp, you can’t get mad at me since I’m literally doing what you asked.” She grumbled, slapping Harry’s hand away and moving hers back up to his curls, twisting little strands around her pointer fingers.

“I-“ He started.

“Say something, brat. I dare you.” She said, grabbing his chin to tilt his head back.

“Nothing,” Harry muttered, moving his head back to its original position on her chest. “Thank you, baby.”

“Whatever. You’re still a brat,” She kissed his temple three times, craning her neck a bit more to kiss his lips with his assistance of craning his to meet her lips as well. “But, I love you.”

“I love you. Love of m’life, m’muse, m’soulmate,” He placed soft kisses on her lips with every other word, kissing her deeply with his last. They sat in silence for a little, soft breathing and the occasional beep from his phone sounding the room, until Harry broke the silence.

“Lovie?”

“Hm?”

“Can y’braid m’hair?”

“Are you gonna complain if I pull too hard?

“No, but I’ll probably get hard.”

A pause. “Y’know what? I’ll take it. Get me a hair tie then sit on the floor.”

—

“H, come here.” Y/N groaned.

“No.” Harry said, arms crossed as he turned his back to her.

“You’re such a fucking diva,” She said, kicking at the bottom of his back with a socked foot, trying to garner his attention. “Don’t know how I put up with you.”

“Oh, ‘M the diva? Y’just chewed m’out ‘cause I accidentally ate the last bit of your chocolate, even though y’told me last night that y’still had some left!” He whined, back still turned to his girlfriend.

“Oh my God. Are you serious? I said I had some in my desk at work, not at home, you fucking twat.” She said exasperatedly, still poking her toes into his back.

Reaching behind him, he grabbed her socked feet and held them tightly, making her whine and complain about the constriction. “Let my feet go!”

“No. Not until y’apologize.” He said matter of factly, turning the slightest bit so he could hold her feet in his lap, face not facing her, but instead watching the movie that was now on mute on the TV.

“Do I have to?” She asked, voice low.

“D’you want y’feet back?” He gave her the same tone of voice, not paying her any mind.

“Asshole,” she muttered under her breath, scooching forward as much as she could to rest her chin on his shoulder. “I’m sorry for getting mad at you for eating my chocolate.”

“Hmm, and?” He hummed, moving to rub small circles into the soles of the fuzzy fabric covered skin.

“And ‘M sorry that I wasn’t more specific. Forgive me? I love you.” She whispered, moving to rest the plush of her cheek onto his shirtless shoulder, her lips brushing against the skin when she spoke.

Sighing, he fully turned to her and raised an eyebrow, letting her feet go and placing a soft kiss onto her forehead. “Of course I forgive you, sweet girl. I’d forgive y’a million times over. I’ll buy y’new chocolate, baby. Jus’ love when y’get all soft w’me. S’ like, m’favorite thing ever. Besides you, I guess.”

He was cut off by a yelp when she used their closeness to her advantage and took a bite out of her shoulder.

“Y’fucking bitch.”

“Twat.”

[nattinatalia]

Jack Harlow x Reader : CRAVINGS AND ARGUMENTS

This pregnancy was different from your first to say the least. The first pregnancy you had no cravings, so when you woke up today craving some weird food combinations you had a plan set in motion.

The only problem is? Your husband hasn’t left your side since he got home two days ago. He doesn’t let you drive and he doesn’t let you be alone for more than five minutes.

If you had to go to the restroom he made sure to be outside the door to hear in case you fell or something. He was every bit dramatic and worried, you loved that about him. But after two days, you were growing annoyed.

You were putting your sandals on when Jack walked into the living room.

“I know you’re not going anywhere right now.” He crossed his arms, raising an eyebrow . “I see you have your purse and keys, were you sneaking out?”

You groan. “You and Mia were taking a nap so I was going to make a quick run to the store.”

“Absolutely not, I told you-“

“Yes, yes, I know Jackman.” You roll your eyes.

“Okay first of all, calm down.” He goes to hug you, rubbing circles on your back. “Second of all, hand me the list and I’ll go for you.”

You shake your head. “Jack, I want to go. I need to get fresh air.”

“Go outside then, I finally built your swing.”

“Ughh, okay okay. Just go.” You plop down on the couch. “I’ll text you the list.”

He bends down, lifts up your chin so you can look at him. “Don’t be moody baby.” He pecks your lips and smiles. “I’ll be back.”

******

It was thirty minutes later that Jack was walking back inside the house with two bags in hand.

You’re immediately confused. “What’s wrong? Did you forget your wallet?”

“Huh? Oh no, I’m done.” He says, walking into the kitchen. You quickly follow behind him.

“Babe, you usually take forever at the store when I send you with a list. No way you’re back this fast.”

He starts taking out the groceries from the bags and you look at the stuff in confusion. “What’s all this?”

“Your snacks and food.”

You grab a bag of green beans, “This wasn’t on my list.” You look at the peas, the wheat thins. “I definitely didn’t put this down.”

Jack doesn’t say anything. “Jack, where are my pickles? My hot Cheetos, my Dr. Pepper?” You dig through the stuff he brought home. “Most importantly, where are my spicy noodles?”

He scratches his neck. “About that.”

“What?”

“Baby, that’s all unhealthy stuff. You need to watch what you eat for the baby.”

You glare at him. “Jackman, please tell me you’re pranking me right now. Because if you didn’t bring me what I asked for, you’ll be sleeping on the couch.”

“Okay so I didn’t bring- wait before you get mad.” He goes up to you. “There weren't any noodles and babe, Dr Pepper with creamer? That’s gross so I’m saving you the disgust.”

“You don’t see me give you shit about your chicken and peanut butter.” You glare.

“Wait, that's not fair. Mia actually likes my chicken with peanut butter.”

You chuckle. “News flash, she doesn’t. She hates it and throws it to the neighbor's dog.”

He gasps. “Wow, what a way to shatter my heart.”

You glare at him and walk out of the kitchen and make your way back to the living room. You snatch your phone and sit down.

Jack follows behind you, smirking “What are you doing grumpy pants?”

You ignore him, continuing to scroll through your phone.

“Babe, are you really going to ignore me?” You stay quiet again.

“So what snacks do you want from the kitchen? I’ll cut you some veggies and fruit.”

You glare at him. “If you come near me with those wanna be snacks, I will hurt you.”

“Babe, stop being dramatic.” He chuckles, placing his hands on your bump.

“I’ll be whatever I want to be right now.” You push his hands away. “Don’t touch me.”

“What? What’s wrong?”

You roll your eyes. “You offered to go to the store for me, the least you could’ve done was bring me what I asked for.”

“That is what has you so mad?” He shakes his head. “Babe, I’m just looking out for you.”

You hum, but continue scrolling through your phone. “Who are you texting?”

“Gerald.”

“What did he say?- WAIT WHAT?” He snaps his head towards you. “You’re texting who?”

“Maybe he’ll bring me what I actually ask for.”

“Stop being petty.”

“Who said I was being petty? You can’t give me what I want, let me go ask all the guys who are in my dms begging for scraps.”

“All this pettiness over fucking food?”

“YES.” You yell. “You know I don’t play about my food, especially with this pregnancy. I crave weird things, you think I’m happy about that? I watch what I eat every other day but god forbid I get a weird craving, don’t blame me if your son comes out with a cone head.”

The doorbell rings and you get up as fast as your belly lets you and head to the door.

You grab the bags and close the door.

“Who dropped that off?”

“Gerald.” You snap at him.

Trying to head to the kitchen but he takes the bags from you. “Quit fucking playing.”

“Maybe you should’ve brought me what I asked for.” You shrug and start unpacking the bags.

You smile at what he dropped off. “He’s the best.”

“Who dropped these off? Because no way delivery got here this quick.”

“My favorite Harlow.” You bite into a pickle and do a little dance at the juicy flavor. “Your brother knew you’d pull some shit so he asked me to send him my list.”

You grab the monitor from the counter to double check Mia was still down for her nap. Once you see that she is, you continue to unpack the groceries your brother in law dropped off.

“Okay, I get it but I was only looking out for you.” He groans once he sees the pack of noodles. “I hate when you eat these.”

You shrug, “That sounds like a you problem.”

He nods and scratches his beard. “Do you need anything else ?”

You shake your head. “Oh no, I’m good, wouldn’t want you ruining anything else.”

“I’m going back to bed with Mia.” He kisses the top of your head. “Sorry for all of this.” He mumbles quietly and walks out.

You pick nothing up on his tone so you continue with putting away the groceries that you weren’t going to use right now.

In a plate you placed two pickles, baby carrots, and peanut butter. You filled a glass cup with ice and poured some Dr Pepper with creamer.

You made your way to the table, grabbing the black bag of hot Cheetos. Once you take a few bites of your snacks, dipping your pickles with peanut butter. You get a wave of emotions crashing in on you.

You can’t help but let the tears out, you push away your plate. You were about to head upstairs but you came face to face with Jack.

“What’s wrong.?” He asked, scared.

You hug him. “I’m sorry, I was being a bitch and you didn’t deserve that. I know you’re looking out for me but I just get annoyed so quickly and I hate it that I take it out on you.”

“Hey, hey.” He rubs your back. “Deep breath’s baby, you’re okay.”

You shake your head. “But I’m not, I shouldn’t be so mean to you, over snacks and food. That’s so silly.”

“I should’ve brought you what you asked for, so it’s on me.” He hugs you tighter against his chest.

“Why couldn’t you get the weird cravings again this time?” You joke, remembering how when you were pregnant with Mia, it was him with the mood swings and cravings.

He laughs, “That was a crazy time.” He pulls back a bit so he can look at you. “We’re okay baby, I understand you feel different this time around. I shouldn’t be pushing your buttons about it either.”

“I’m still sorry though, I know you’re trying your best.” You get on your tippy toes and kiss his neck. “You’ve been amazing and I’m just bitchy and moody.”

“Baby relax, everything is okay.” he places his hands on your round bump. “Let me help you”

“I’m going to hold it for a little while, is that okay?” You nod, as he quickly places his hands under your belly, lifting it up a bit.

You lean back on his chest and leave out a deep sigh. “That feels good.”

He kisses your neck, “Little man is really kicking at your side right now.”

“You know he does that whenever we fight or whenever he hears your voice.” You close your eyes as he starts swaying you both side to side.

“He’s going to be good at soccer.” At those words, you feel a big kick on your side, you and Jack chuckle at that.

“We’re good baby boy, just mommy and daddy having a disagreement.” You place your hand where he kicked.

“We’re more than okay little man.” He whispers. After his words, your son kicks again making you and Jack smile and shed a few tears of happiness.

This pregnancy wasn’t easy by any means but Angel “Ez” Harlow was worth it.

• • • • • • • • • • •

TAG LIST

@heavyhitterheaux @harlowsbby @arination99 @cmalass @jackharloww @minkookie95 @deannaard @jacksmoviestar @harlowcomehome @fdl305 @httpkoylinnn @xoxokiaraaxoxo @hoodharlow @automaticpeachsong @amethyst09 @aliciacat20 @allyson15 @gabbylovesreading @stefansalvatoresgf @violetdreamsworld @carma-fanficaddict @jasminxts @itsaaliyah2 @itsyagirljaz @harrycanyonmoonn @neon-lights-and-glitter @awhore4moree @toocriticalharlow @thefemalestorywriter @lightsoutstyles

[puckpocketed]

hello sounding off with my snacks !!

water with an effervescent tablet (oange flavour) (i am hungover help)

peanut noodles (someone here had it the other day? :3 recipe below)

you will need a noodle of your choice. i buy packs of dried noodles in bunches of 6 from my asian store, but cracking open an instant ramen pack also works!! so far wheat and egg noodles have worked for me, but if you fancy rice noodles or potato noodles im sure it would be?? fine?? recipes are fake follow ur heart

SAUCE 2 tablespoon of peanut butter (i like crunchy) 1 tablespoon of gochujang OR 1 and a half tablespoon of soy sauce + a teaspoon of chilli sauce (dried chilli also works) -> I use whatever spiced thing i got at home, last time i made this i used pickled chillis and a dash of paprika. you can omit the spice if thats not your thing but i highly recommend putting a leeetle bit in!! 2 teaspoons of sugar 2 tablespoons of boiling water OR starchy water from your noodles before draining

OPTIONAL to add to the sauce: sesame oil if you like :3 1-2 cloves of minced garlic splash of whatever sour thing you got -> vinegar, balsamic vinegar, rice vinegar, lemon - honestly i do this fairly often and it doesn't make too much of a difference what sour thing is just. whatever u got

Mix well, adjust salt with soy sauce, sweetness with sugar, sour with your sour thing. etc.

TOPPINGS (these are just suggestions + what i had today!! you can have the noodles just like that tbh but i like adding stuff) soft boiled egg -> 6 mins 15 seconds from being placed in boiling water gives me a soft boiled egg. add 1 minute if u want something a little more set leftover protein is great here. chicken, pork, roast beef, whatever! cucumber slices (i like mine julienned) kimchi :3 scallions sesame seeds

u can plate it very nice but i just throw everything in a bowl

[archangeldyke-all]

can you do a pt 2 to my "slow living" rec but this time it's about reader jarring/canning, pickling, freezing, or drying literally everything? probably mid-summer when everything is overwhelmingly abundant and wife!sev is just in awe of the work reader gets done lol (also just wanted to say i absolutely adored what you with my request! it was so cute! you really are a blessing for the gays starved a sevika content)

yes yes yes yes yes! i haven't stopped thinking about this prompt since u sent the first request in!

men and minors dni

bushels and bushels of herbs, garlic, and corn are hanging from the rafters of the screened-in wrap-around porch of your home.

it's summer, which means you've been busy as a bee trying to tend to, harvest, and preserve all your garden's abundance. you're blessed to be able to sustain yourselves all year from the food you grow, but that doesn't mean it doesn't come without some elbow grease.

cicadas and crickets are singing outside as the sun begins to set, bathing your property in sparkling gold light. in the kitchen, with all the windows open and the fan whirring, a radio is singing and sevika is sipping on her nightly glass of whiskey.

you're dancing to and fro in front of her, chopping produce and throwing it in jars of vinegar, pressure canning the jams you'd made this morning, filling reusable bag after bag with chopped veggies and fruits that will go into the deep freeze until winter.

sevika's been busy too. experimenting with making goat cheese, fermenting wine in your basement, tinkering away at your broken AC all day. now, she's finally got a moment to rest, and she's using her free time to admire you.

you've got a filthy apron wrapped around your body, covered in stains and crumbs. right now, you're chopping squash and stringing it on a fishline, so you can hang it to sundry tomorrow. your hips are swaying to the beat of the gentle music, and you've got a glob of apricot jam on your forehead. sevika chuckles.

"what?" you ask her from across the counter. she grins.

"you're so amazing." she says. you smile.

"you say that every summer." you tease. sevika shrugs.

"doesn't make it any less true." she says. you chuckle.

"stir that pot on the stove for me?" you ask, gesturing to the giant pot of simmering tomato sauce you've got over a low flame. sevika nods and follows your command, licking the wooden spoon once she's done stirring and groaning.

"delicious, baby." she grunts. you giggle.

"it's your recipe." you say. she smiles.

"yeah, but you made it." she says. you giggle and swat her with the towel over your shoulder.

"did you finish grinding the cornflour?" you ask. she nods.

"and the wheat." she says. you sigh and wrap her up into a hug that she quickly reciprocates.

"you're the best." you say. sevika chuckles.

"you just married me for my muscles." she teases. you laugh against her.

"i can't lie, that was a pretty big motivator for me." you say. sevika giggles and reaches up to wipe the jam off your face, licking it off her fingers when she's done. you laugh.

"can't decide if i like summer or winter more. this is fun, and i love the long days and sitting out in the garden with you, but i also like winter. cuddling by the fireplace and bein' all cozy with you." she says. you press a kiss to her lips.

"i like spring." you say. sevika smiles, already knowing your reasoning. "'s when we got married." you say. she smirks.

"and when we met." she reminds you. you laugh.

"and when we first got the ducks." you add on. sevika snorts and rolls her eyes.

"fuckin' ducks. did i tell ya ms. quacker shit on me this morning? not even my shoes. she flew up to perch on my shoulder and took a duce all the way down my back." she says with a shudder. you giggle and kiss the frown off her face.

"i love you." you hum against her lips. sevika smiles.

"i love you too, baby." she says.

taglist!

@lesbeaniegreenie @fyeahnix @sapphicsgirl @half-of-a-gay @ellabslut @thesevi0lentdelights @sexysapphicshopowner @shimtarofstupidity @love-sugarr @chuucanchuucan @222danielaa @badbye666

[foodandfolklore]

Tools and Ingredients to keep on hand; Kitchen Witchcraft Elevated Pt. 3

A few more items I'd like to recommend to my kitchen witches. This is going to start getting a little more specific to my own style of cooking and practicing. So if there's anything on this list that makes you go "That's dumb, why would I need that?" then it probably is not for you. Don't go out and get it! But if you think "Huh, that's a good idea" maybe try it out. You can also check out Part 1 and Part 2.

Terracotta Disk Okay let's be real; anyone who's opened brown sugar before knows the struggle of hard sugar. Brown sugar dries out and becomes rock hard. Now, there are lots of solutions that have been presented, but each of them have a new issue. Adding a piece of bread for example. Well now I gotta worry about crumbs, mold and gluten contamination (I'm very mindful of allergies, despite not having any myself). I've also heard of adding a marshmallow to your sugar. I've tried this, but I'm not sure if it's the environment I live in, but it just doesn't work well for me. Plus both feels kind of wasteful. Then I saw a Terracotta disk at the dollarama for about 2 bucks. You soak it in water then drop it in your jar. Boom. Soft brown sugar in a few hours.

Rice Vinegar I know I already suggested vinegar in general, but rice vinegar tends to be more mellow than white vinegar or balsamic vinegar. I like to make a lot of quick pickle stuff like pickled Daikon, Pickled Carrot, or pickled onion. It's also a common ingredient for many Asian sauces and dishes. So if looking up a recipe, it'll often call for Rice Vinegar in some form or fashion. It's also nice to add to plain white rice.

Tortillas Anytime I can find these for cheap in the store, I stock up and throw them in the freezer. Yeah, I can make my own for cheaper, but I've never been 100% happy with how they turn out. They can be too thick, or get a hole, or are not the right size; I dunno. Sometimes I'll make them when in the mood, but mostly I prefer to have them premade. Tortillas, whether made from wheat or corn, have strong solar energies. They also have good protection properties. When you wrap your food in a tortilla, imagine it to be like a protective blanket. It's great for tacos, burritos, fajitas, or just lunch/breakfast wraps in general. But you can also use them non conventionally. When a pizza craving hits, I'll throw some sauce and toppings on a tortilla and bake. Or I may cut the tortilla up into triangles and bake if I need something to go with a hot dip. Monosodium Glutamate Better known as MSG. There has been a lot of misinformation and hate regarding MSG. Starting when Chinese food became popular in North America, but people worried about the quality and cleanliness of food cooked by a foreigner. After all, other countries had different rules about what was considered acceptable when it came to food. So when people were experiencing headaches or stomach aches after eating Chinese take out, they were appalled to find out it was cooked with MSG. MSG was reported to be the cause of these health problems and demonized it. Except.....it was all dog whistling.

I want to be clear: There is NO causation link to MSG having a side effect of pain or stomach problems. What's more likely to have happened is people had an adverse reaction to deep fried food, combined with mass hysteria. MSG is like Salt, Sugar, or Citric Acid. It occurs naturally, and we humans found ways create the product in it's purest form. MSG can be found in all kinds of food like tomatoes, mushrooms, soy, cheese, fish, grapes, and a ton more. Now that doesn't mean you can just eat as much MSG as you want. Like Salt and Sugar, too much over a long period of time can have negative health impacts. But a pinch or two in a dish while cooking is great to help enhance the Umami or savory flavor. MSG also has way less sodium than regular salt. While I don't think it'll replace salt, it can be good to try adding first for flavor if you're trying to reduce your sodium intake.

Cane Sugar There's a lot of different kinds of sugar. Granulated sugar, brown sugar, yellow sugar, icing sugar; most people keep some kind of sugar on hand for baking or sweetening drinks. But I like to keep Cane Sugar on hand as it has a more complex flavor profile. Magically, I find while Cane Sugar sweetens demeanors just like any other sugar, Cane Sugar is able to have people be more...understanding. Instead of finding a new reason to like you or tolerate you, Cane Sugar makes it more likely people sees things your perspective. It makes people more attune to their empathy when engaging with you. If that makes any sense. Oh, and it's my go to for fermented drinks. I actually ran out experimenting with things like ginger beer. Whoops. Scrub Mommy Listen, I hate cleaning. Especially dishes. I chuck as much as I can into the dishwasher, but some things need to be done by hand. So I'm always looking for way to clean them as quickly and easily as possible. But I also don't want to use harsh chemicals or keep buying steel wool that I'll throw away. I saw the Scrub Mommy be used in a lot of videos, so I gave it a try, and holy crap. I bought one for 6 dollars a year ago. I still have it. It doesn't shrink, it doesn't mold; I can toss it in the dishwasher if it needs a clean. And it gets the food off SO easily. I still need to give stuff a soak every once in a while. But most stuff comes right off. Even jars when I'm getting labels off and I got that sticky residue, scrub mommy it with some dish soap. It's gone in like 30 seconds. I still hate doing dishes. But at lest now I can do them without putting every fiber of my being into them.

[lionsongfr]

Crystalline Gala Cuisine

Been a bit since I made a festival cuisine, and since my old ones have been circulating, I guiltily figured I should make one for the Gala before it ends.  Gaolers and Tundras are both herbivores (though Gaolers also eat meat), but I headcanon that like most herbivores they will opportunistically eat fish, insects, and meat when given the chance. The dishes have a bit more mixing than the previous cuisine; in the Icefield you eat what you can and as much as you can to survive. Potato Onions are my replacement for potatos, because FR needs potatoes (and citrus and tomatoes and wheat and rice and spices).

Seeker Stew- originally a stew of necessity for traveling Seekers, it was made of dried Sea Grass, small Cragside Mussels, canned Common Minnows, Sour Elk milk, and spoiled Turnips. The dish was transformed back home, using fresh Spinach, meaty Olympia Oysters, Jumbo Shrimp, new Potato Onions, and…sour Snowfall Elk milk. Funk is flavor!

Shalefin in a Fur Coat- this uniquely named dish is a layered salad, like the layers of a Tundra fur coat. It is made of finely sliced pickled Shalefin fillets, grated Potato Onion, Gradish, and Honeycrisp Apple, and chopped hard-boiled Flecked Bushrunner eggs. The key binding ingredient is a flavorful mayonnaise made of Elk tallow, Dappled Clucker yolks, and dill.

Bear in a Cave Dumplings-a favorite of the Fae scholars of the Frozen Sanctum. It is a boiled or fried Potato Onion dumpling filled with fried Wooly Bear, Wild Onion, and Dryad's Saddle. It can be served with melted Elk milk butter and Winter’s Delight jam or a white sauce spiced with dried Dusky Mealworm and imported Golden Pepper.

Tundra Grub- a dish named after the main protein of the dish: a sausage filled with Tundra Grub meat, Longneck-grown oats, and Elk blood. The sausage is fried along with strips of Tundra Cactus before being added to an earthy brown sauce of Mycena Mushroom and Earthworms. It is typically served with an unleavened flatbread made of rye or Longneck oats, or a mash of Potato Onion.

Woodland Turkey Dinner- this was once a seasonal dish, but now is common year-round. While the star of the dinner is the roasted Woodland Turkey, the side dishes are just as essential. The most common is: Deep Sea Lobster and Jumbo Shrimp stuffing, roasted Winter Brussel Sprouts with a Superberry vinegarette, Tundra Grub and Potato Onion mash with Mycena Mushroom gravy, and Stonecorn rolls with Elk cheese and White Lace Honeybee honey. And last but not least, a Cinnamon and Honeycrisp Apple pie. A heavy dinner said to put even Sentinels to sleep!

Trunk Cheese- not actually cheese, but a cold meat dish made of fresh Bullephant Trunk (or Mammophant, though it is not as tasty).  The meat of the trunk is removed and cooked in a mix of spices and Wild Onion, and then poured and set with gelatin in the skin of the trunk. Slices are cut from the trunk and served upon rye bread with strong Wild Mustard and pickled Gradish.   

Edamame Soup and Pancakes- a popular yet odd combination of savory and sweet. This dish features a Chilled Edamame soup (heated of course, the chilled variety of plants grow better in the hot houses of Icefield) with large chunks of smokey Elk bacon, a sprinkle of thyme, and a dollop of Wild Mustard. The pancakes are made of nutty and mildly sweet Amaranth flour and served with Winter’s Delight jam. The soup is traditionally dished with a silver spoon, after a mighty Tundra king was poisoned by his favorite soup.

Warden’s Delight- a dessert, a snack, a spread upon rye bread, and a delight to every hatchie. It is a mix of Elk tallow, Spotted Seal or Wooly Walrus oil, fresh snow, and Winter’s Delight. As the mixture is whipped into fluffy peaks, it is traditional to sing “Warden’s Delight to fight off the night, no Shade or beast shall fill my sight. Drive away the hunger, drive away the cold, fill my belly and make me bold.”

Frozen Bouquet- flowers are rarity in the Southern Icefield, but this bouquet is made from flash-frozen flowers and fruits. After thawing they are quickly coated in a thin layer of crystalized maple syrup and then arranged into a bouquet. Often the bouquets have hidden meanings like Pretty Pink Mums for courting. Winterbelle for strength, and Wolfsbane for warning. But what every Tundra fears the most is a bouquet of Black Tulips.

 Crisp Morning Cider- Vodka is life to Ice Flight, the warmth in one’s chest in a land where winter never ends. And while most drink it “neat”, when rations are low then cocktails are the answer!  This drink is a common morning warmer and is a mix of White Lace Honeybee honey with hot water, Vodka, Honeycrisp Apple cider, and Cinnamon.

Boreal Brew-a tea made from the leaves of whatever green tree is available. Birch, Fir, Spruce, and Pine can all be brewed into an astringent tea with a citrus-y aftertaste. Unfortunately, Birch, Fir, and Spruce are typically harvested during Spring-Summer- but Pine is harvested during December. To help remove the bitter taste, Pine can be fermented with sugar for a week to a month (fermentation time depending on temperature) and then filtered and served as cold tea.

[the-salty-avocado]

POTS Meal Plan 1🧂

Meal One: Chinese Steamed Egg 🥚

This meal can be made with a lot of salt! Plus it has practically no carbs, can be made wheat free, and has protein!

Ingredients:

1 egg

1/2 cup broth of choice (this adds more sodium)

1/2 tsp gluten free soy sauce (soy sauce often has wheat as a filler so buy gluten free options)

1/2 tsp maple syrup

Chives or green onion if feeling fancy✨

Pre cooked small shrimp 🍤 if feeling up to it! (This adds extra protein and salt. Frozen shrimp actually has a good amount of salt!

Instructions:

Whisk your egg and broth together

Pour through a sieve into a microwave safe bowl. I learned that a wider shallower bowl makes it more silky. The pictured dish was when I used a cereal bowl and it was tasty but not as good.

Cover with Saran Wrap and poke three holes

Microwave on 50% power for 5 minutes

Let it sit in the microwave for a minute if two when done cooking

Once you remove it run a knife through it in a grid pattern

Top with soy sauce, maple syrup, and chives and shrimp if using

Meal Two: Tuna Salad 🐟

This is a salty option that requires no cooking!

Ingredients

1 small can tuna (canned tuna contains a good amount of salt and protein)

Some mayo

Some mustard

Relish or chopped up pickles for extra salt

A pinch of salt. I use Baja Gold mineral Salt. Sea salt is supposed to increase blood pressure slightly more than table salt. At least that was what I was told by a registered dietitian

Just mix together and eat or serve on gluten free crackers or celery sticks.

Meal Three: Cottage Cheese and fruit 🍎

Ingredients

Cottage cheese

Fruit of choice (I like apple the best)

Optional - dark chocolate chips

Just mix and enjoy! 😉

Meal Four + Five: Tuscan Salmon 🍣

So meal four and five are the same dish. Simply cook and divide into two small portions.

Ingredients:

2 slices bacon

One 4 oz salmon fillet

1/4 yellow onion, diced

1 tsp garlic, minced

1/4 C chicken broth

1 Tbsp sun dried tomatoes

1 1/2 Tbsp heavy cream

A sprinkle of spinach (just eye ball it)

Instructions

Chop onions and bacon

Cook chopped bacon in a sauce pan over medium heat. Over from pan when done but leave fat in pan

In bacon fat, cook onions until translucent.

Add garlic and stir for about 30 seconds

Add broth, sun dried tomatoes, and bring to a boil then add cream

Add salmon skin side down, bacon, and sprinkle spinach around it. Cover and cook for 4-8 mins. Salmon should be 145 F or 63 C

Meal Six: High Protein Chia Seed Pudding 🍧

Ingredients

1 C Greek Yogurt

3/4 C milk of choice

1/4 C chia seeds

1 Tbsp honey

1/2 tsp vanilla extract

Pinch of salt

Pinch of cinnamon (it’s anti inflammatory!)

Instructions

Mix in a large bowl and cover and refrigerate for at least 4 hours. It will make many servings.

Topping ideas! Nut butters, fruit, jam, dark chocolate chips, nuts 🥜

If you are on the go, here is my travel snack list! 🏃‍♀️💨

[guardian-of-time-if]

500 Followers Celebration: Q & A

Happy Saturday everyone! As I promised earlier this week, here is a Q&A. Some of the questions were a bit more serious than I remember, but it starts ridiculous and ends ridiculous.

What are the character's thoughts on socks?:

Lukyan: “I mean they make my boots much more comfortable, but they are way too fickle. They never shrink or discolor exactly the same way after you wash or wear them, and they always seem to go missing. All in all, more effort than they’re worth, and I often walk around the palace without them.”

Tzesar: “Have you ever been to the northern part of the Empire? It's way too cold to even think about not having fuzzy socks on you at all times. No matter how much my brother likes to make fun of me. I can assure you everyone is hiding at least two pairs of socks under their boots..”

Sentinel: “Am I really supposed to have an opinion about something so nonsensical?”

Naxok: *wrinkles his nose* “I actually don’t wear them. I spend too much time in the water, so they usually just end up soaked and wet plus freezing cold is terrible for you no matter how many layers of wet there are. Besides, I enjoy leaving my bare feet in water far too much to appreciate them.”

Albien: “Socks are an important part of keeping warm. I just wish they wouldn’t go missing so easily.”

Gaderous: “What a funny question. I suppose like most people I appreciate them keeping me warm, and get annoyed when they slip off my feet or get holes in them. Although, I will say that sock puppets freak me out a little.”

What would they say are the worst food crimes imaginable, both modern and setting accurate?:

Lukya: His are actually the same for both- eating raw meat or fish. Just if it had to be hunted it needs to be cooked. 

Tzesar: Setting accurate- cooking vegetables in stew. Vegetables are best appreciated as God intended, fresh and void of spice or sauce.

Modern- Salad dressing, and serving ranch on a veggie tray

Sentinel: Setting accurate- using any ingredient in food that has alternate uses in magic spells/rituals/potions (most of these can’t be eaten, but the few that can have lingering magic in them that Sentinel swears he can taste.)

Modern- Lattes (or any coffee fancier/further from basic black than that)

Naxok: Setting accurate- Sea monster is delicacy in some parts of the world… A fact that Nax likes to pretend does not exist because it makes him think of his precious pet Nellie.)

Modern-The concept of deep frying

Albien: Setting accurate- Its popular among House Phoenix (his mother’s family) to light food on fire before eating it, but the flame changes color based on the types of protein in the food, and makes everything smell and (to Albien) taste like smoke

Modern- There are too many to count, but the simplest way to cover everything is processed junk food that kids like (He’s basically like a health food parent when it comes to modern food) 

Gaderous: Setting accurate- It’s really popular where he grew up is to take roasted hazelnuts and  wrap them in a plant called Garensweed, which takes the shape of a leaf with the texture of cooked spinach, covered in a berry flavored jam. Then they smoke it over a fire. His dad commits the atrocity of putting pickles inside his, and dipping it in a cinnamon caramel sauce. Gaderous has been so traumatized by his dad’s version, that he always checks for pickles when he buys one from a bakery. 

Modern- I think he’d be open to trying pretty much anything in a modern setting, and would really only label something a food crime if it's so wrong it would make someone sick, or just can’t conceivably go together. 

How would they act in a hypothetical game of Catan?

Naxok and Lukyan would be treating it like its risk and over analyzing the best military strategy, despite the fact that you don’t actually have a military in Catan. They also both stubbornly refuse to trade with each other until they realize that one has no wheat and the other has no bricks, so they really should, but won’t until all other options have been exhausted. Sentinel is playing up both sides, and while trying to hide his competitive streak. The only thing he hates more than sharing, is losing, and it shows. Not only will he win, he will crush everyone. (And if he thought they’d give him an edge, would have no qualms about using his powers to win.) On the other hand, Tzesar is naturally the best at it, but he spends most of his time trying to get the two achievements, longest road, and largest army. Most of the guys assume that he’s not paying too much attention to the building aspect, and leave him be. He wins pretty quickly and everyone else is dumb founded, and Sentinel is pissed. Meanwhile, Albien is just really chill, and smiling even though he’s in last place and like Tzesar, is not really trying. He’s kind of like a dad who got sweet-talked into playing with the kids, and is letting them win because watching them get so invested in the game is more fun than winning. His intentionally bad trades are also the reason that Tzesar won so easily. Meanwhile Gaderous is making up rules to confuse people and spends most of his time making development cards, and convincing players to make weird trades with him. He’s not actually trying to win, he just wants to make Sentinel lose because he thinks it's funny to annoy the elf.

How would the guys react, after being in a relationship with the MC to being asked the question: Would you still love me if I was a worm?

Lukyan: Lukyan would be very confused by the question, and would stand there silently for long enough that the MC probably thinks he’s not going to answer her until he finally says, “I would still love *you*, but since worms don’t have consciousness, you wouldn’t be *you* if you were a worm.”

Tzesar: Depending on what he was doing when asked, he might stop listening after “would you still love me…” and just answer yes while finishing whatever he was doing. If the MC had his full attention he’d be academically intrigued by how it would work, but would try to avoid showing that and answer the question seriously with “If you had gotten turned into a worm then yes, I would, and I would stop at nothing to get you back. If you were born a worm then sadly probably not because we never would have met.”

Sentinel: If he had a more teasing/bickering relationship with the MC then he’d be like “Who says I love you now?” with a single eyebrow raised. If pressed he’d give her the same answer he’d give a more gentle/sensitive MC which is, “The only thing that could turn you into a worm is witchcraft, so I could undo it with a snap of the fingers, making the whole conversation moot.”

Naxok: The man lives on a boat (excuse me, ship) which is not the safest place for a worm, so he would just shrug, and tell her it wouldn’t really matter. “Nellie would probably eat you regardless, so I might be sad that you were gone, but there’d be nothing for it.”

Albien: He would take it as a frivolous way of demonstrating a real fear, and instead of answering the question would pull her into a hug (if standing) or into his lap (if he was sitting), and ask her if there was a reason she was afraid of being unloved. If it really was just a joke he would be unimpressed.

Gaderous: He laughs and turns the tables. “Would you still love me if I was a worm?”

How would they react to a surprise party?"

Luk: Does not like surprises in nearly any context, and has no friends, so a surprise party is basically his worst nightmare because he has no control over the situation and is surrounded by a bunch of people he probably doesn't like. He would probably be uncomfortable the whole time, and depending on who threw the surprise party might assume someone is trying to kill him. He probably only stays if there’s food, and leave as soon as he can.

Tzesar: Would handle it a lot better than Luk. He’d say hi to everyone invited, thank whoever threw the party, eat, and mingle with all the guests. If there’s courtiers invited then he’s a little thrown off because he likes to prepare before interacting with them. If the party is only with his friends, he just relaxes and enjoys the festivities.

Sentinel: Has somehow found out about the party and just doesn’t ever show up. Is then not seen for a week. 

Naxok: Is overjoyed, completely invested in the party and gives a bear hug to everyone involved.

Albien: Takes a moment to register what’s going on, but ultimately enjoys it, though much less enthusiastically than Nax. 

Gaderous: He’s extremely touched. He’s always wanted someone to throw him a surprise party, but has never told anyone because he thought it wouldn’t mean as much if he told someone he want a surprise party and they did versus coming to that conclusion themselves. 

How would they react to an unexpected kiss from MC?:

Lukyan: Still does not like surprises and goes stiff as a statue. If MC is sad/disappointed/worried/nervous/trying to apologize/ect. because he didn’t kiss back, then he’ll try to explain and do a really bad job of it, before realizing he’s only making it worse, grunting, turning around taking exactly three steps before it occurs to him that walking away would be even worse, turning back around to kiss her himself. If MC is amused/smug/flirty because she caught him off-guard then he’d just raise an eyebrow and be like I hope you're pleased with yourself, and walk away. 

Tzesar: Blinks a couple times before trying to return to whatever he was doing before only he seems to have forgotten, then asks MC what he was just doing. Does the same thing to her a couple days later.

Sentinel: Intentionally keeps his face as void of emotion as possible until MC moves away, then he just picks her up. Then he whispers in a low voice “You forgot two very important things, never start anything you can’t finish, and remember I always win.” while he carries her somewhere where A there’s privacy and B he’s got enough space to lay her flat on her back, where… tickles ensue (I bet that’s not where you thought this was going did you.)

Nax: Can’t stop himself from grinning. Somewhere between “what was that for?” and “I know this means you want something, but I’m too happy to care.” If there is in fact an ulterior motive, he gives MC a kiss on the head before doing what she wants, if there is nothing, then he pulls her into a hug, after kissing her head instead. 

Albien: Laughs a little bit. “I’m not sure I deserved that, but I’m pleased you thought so.”

Gaderous: Probably makes a stupid joke about how MC has fallen into his trap or if she’s not careful, then he’ll never leave. Then he’d give her another kiss after. 

How would they react to MC having a pat duck?:

(This one I saw on another Tumblr blog, and sent a screenshot to my friends because I thought it was funny. Since it was around the time we were doing this Q&A I decided to answer it myself because it was cute and funny.)

Lukyan: Would be confused about why she wanted a duck, and concerned about keeping it alive during the Nythrian winter, but ultimately put up with it because his family has spent way more money on way weirder things. He wouldn’t pet it though, and would draw the line at allowing it in bed with them. (He also has a pet polar bear, so no right to judge weird pets.)

Tzesar: Thinks it's cute, but will not touch it, and makes sure it stays outside. 

Sentinel: *face palms* “I can’t believe this is what my life has come to.” to MC, “You care about this thing? I guess we have a pet duck now.”

Nax: Feels he has no right to judge given his pet, but is nervous about allowing the duck near Nellie, fearing she’ll eat it. Jokes on him because Duck and Nellie are great friends.

Albien: Is wary of having it in the house, but he’s got a nice lake in the garden it can share with the swans and MC can visit whenever she wants.

Gaderous: He thinks it's cute, and thinks MC holding it is cute. Is more than willing to have it as a full member of the family.

How would each character react to The Last Stand by Sabaton blaring at full volume in the middle of the night?

Ignoring for a moment that the instruments required to play those songs don't exist in world and pretending it would be a recognizable song for them, 

Lukyan: This is me asking, but please don’t. Any time the man is woken up by a loud noise, he immediately assumes its because he’s under attack, so he would jump out of bed, grab his sword, forgoing armor, and run straight to where the MC is, if she’s living in the palace at this point or they’re on the road somewhere. If MC is nowhere near then he’s going straight to his younger sisters. Once he found out it was just a song he would be incredibly relieved, but unable to go back to sleep after. 

Tzesar: Would sleep through it unless he was already awake at which point everyone else grumpily waking up to it would make him realize how late it was, and he’d go to sleep as soon as the commotion was over.

Sentinel: Sentinel does not sleep often, so he’d likely still be awake. If it was a rare moment when he was sleeping, he’d be pissed, and just leave identifying the culprit. He might also assume the music was coming from his dragon companion trying to annoy him instead of being real music. 

Naxok: In all honesty, Nax is likely the one who is blasting Sabaton in the middle of the night. He also typically stays up late, and would likely be awake at whatever time someone plays said song. If it was a rare occasion he happened to be asleep, he would be extremely irritated, but otherwise he’d be jamming also and singing all the words. 

Albien: In true vein of being the only normal member of the cast, Albien would just groan, and pull a pillow over his head to go back to sleep.

Gaderous: Is used to being woken up in the middle of night for emergencies, but would be annoyed that there is not emergency. Also is not a metal fan, and wouldn’t enjoy anyone blaring the song during the day.

In a modern AU who would be offended that Pluto isn’t a planet anymore?

I don’t know why, but I feel like Sentinel would. He’s not someone who would bring it up, but if directly asked, he would defend Pluto’s right to be a planet.

Tzesar would stick with a scientific definition and not think beyond that. Nax would only care about astronomy as it pertains to sailing, and none of the others would care one way or another. Although if it was super important to someone he cared about Albien would champion the cause with them. 

Would they lie to get someone else out of trouble?

Yes: Lukyan, Sentinel, Gaderous, Naxok

No: Tzesar, Albien

How easily could they be convinced to do something that goes against their morals?

Luk: Short answer is hard. The longer answer is very hard, especially as he gets older. Young Luk doesn't really have a distinction between personal morality and his father's rules, but the more disillusioned he becomes with Emperor Konstantin the stronger moral stances he takes and the harder he walks the line. This is something MC can actually notice about the difference between 23-year-old Lukyan and 13-year-old Luk. 

Tzesar:Most of the time he does what he thinks is right, and is very strong willed, however, if you can present an intelligent argument about why his moral stance is wrong, it'll be fairly easier to change his mind about what is moral, so while it'll be hard to persuade him to act against his morals per say, you could easily convince him to change them.

Sentinel: Not a chance. The man has lived a long time and is very set in his ways.

Nax: Rarely has an issue sticking to his morals. He spends a lot of time with people his culture would consider to be living immoral lifestyles, yet he finds them to be good people, so he questions sometimes. He's more likely to allow others to do things that go against his morals without addressing it than to actually do something that goes against his morals. If actually was convinced to go against his morals it would likely be related to someone on his crew. 

Albien: Being a king has taught him a lot about the importance of having a backbone, especially where morality is concerned. While many kings routinely live amoral lives, Albien has spent a lot of time studying how this behavior impacts people living in the country, and has decided not to be like that. He’s also had some problems impulsively acting on his anger before, and the consequences of that made me a lot sterner about sticking to his morals, even when he’s angry. 

Gaderous: He can very easily be persuaded to act against his morals, and very often does. 

Would any of them perform a “Surprise adoption”?

I thought about taking this one out because the entire question is a reference to my unfinished, unpublic fantasy novel Treason Reassigned where the main character a younger woman who is the apprentice spymaster complains to her male best friend that her mother is pressuring her to quit, so she can get married. He says his mother is pressuring the same and jokingly suggests they get married to get their mothers to leave them alone since neither of them are interested in marriage (at the time of this particular scene.) Then they talk about their plan for what to do when their mothers pressure them to have children, and one of them suggests kidnapping an orphan. (the “surprise adoption” in the question). I’ll leave it in because it’s kind of a funny question. 

Lukyan: Well, kidnapping an orphan is basically what Emperor Konstantin did to MC (depending on how you look at it) so he'd probably be confused why MC wants to kidnap an orphan. He would be very cool about adoption in general, but would be adamantly opposed to the kidnapping aspect because he often felt like he never had a choice in a lot of his life, and would never do that to a child. 

Tzesar: He doesn't really understand the point. Why would you grab a random kid off the street instead of following the legal procedure. It's not that complicated and he has the money and political power to adopt legally and quickly.

Sentinel: His situation would more likely be, he attracted the attention of this kid, who followed him into a potentially dangerous situation that he now feels responsible for until the child is basically his. Or the kid just always wants to talk to him whenever he's in town until he develops an attachment.

Naxok and Albien: I put these two together because their culture has a unique situation as it applies to orphans, and I don’t think it would actually be possible for either of them to “kidnap” an orphan unless they took one from outside their own country, and I don’t see either of them doing that.

Gaderous: He’s be down, but not in an active kidnapping situation, more like I’m going to ignore proper legal procedure because this child needs a home and I can provide it kinda thing. 

How would they view time travel?

See this is such an interesting question because Tempurion actually can time travel, and give the person he’s bonded to that power. It won't come up in game, but it is actually possible. 

Lukyan: Luk would be very wary of it, and it kind of freaks him out a little. 

Tzesar: would think it's the coolest thing in the world, and keep very detailed notes about how it would work. 

Sentinel: Sentinel has seen a lot of harm caused by people trying to make-up for their bad decisions, so he would be alarmed by what people might do with time travel. 

Naxok: Nax lives so much in the moment, I'm not sure he'd care too much unless it was directly impacting him, and then he'd mostly be confused. 

Albien: He'd be interested in the history he could experience, but not really interested in seeing the future. 

Gaderous: Gat... would actually enjoy it if it was more the adventuring type of time travel, but he wouldn't want to see his own future... or past.

If your characters were flavors of Jello, which flavors would they be? Pudding counts too.

Luk: Candy Cane pudding 

Tzesar: Piña Colada jello 

Sentinel: Black Cherry 

Nax: Mixchief Grape Color-Changing 

Albien: Classic Turtle 

Gat:Margarita (is apparently a real Jell-O flavor, who knew)

I looked up the official list of flavors of gelatin and pudding made by Jell-O. And no I will not elaborate.

[mariacallous]

What makes a borscht a borscht? I often get asked this question when I share a recipe for any variation other than the beet-based gold standard borscht.

Borscht (aka borsch orborshch) is in fact defined as a “sour soup.” Any pot of borscht requires tanginess, whether it is red, green or white. That essential sour component in borscht can be achieved from the addition of citrus, a fermented wheat starter, vinegar, pickling liquid, tomato or sauerkraut. The word “borscht” is believed to have been derived from the Slavic word for hogweed, borschevik — a plant in the carrot family that was both frequently fermented and used in soups in early Slavic cuisine. Some date the origin of borscht as far back as the 14th century Ukraine, and differing styles of borscht have long remained common across the former Soviet Union and Eastern Europe. As Ashkenazi Jews fled the Russian empire at the end of the 19th century, they helped popularize borscht in the far flung places where they emigrated, and notably in the United States.

Ukrainian cuisine is widely known for its deep scarlet beet borscht, and sometimes for its springy sorrel-laden green borscht. In Poland, borscht can take on a white form, which is also called “biały barszcz” or“zurek.” It can be referred to as Polish Easter soup, sour rye soup or sourdough soup, as it can be made with a fermented flour starter for that element of tang. Just like red borscht, you’ll find different iterations of white borscht depending on what region you’re in, what home cook you’re talking to, or what restaurant you’re eating at. 

While there are many excellent recipes readily available for white borscht, I humbly offer my version, which is inspired by my family’s style of borscht, as well as my personal preferences. In this white borscht, the subtle puckeryness comes both from the inclusion of sourdough bread and fresh lemon juice, the latter being an ingredient my baba (grandmother) always added to her borscht regardless of its color. 

This is all to say, make your white borscht the way that feels best to you: puree it or leave it chunky, add sourdough or rye or neither, make it with smoked sausage or keep it meat-free (see notes for more suggestions and swaps). I personally love to add mild, sweet cabbage to my white borscht, and I always top it with copious amounts of freshly chopped dill. 

However you decide to tweak this hearty soup, please know it is an antidote to a chill in the air, to a sun that sets too early, to a tummy that needs filling, and it is a celebration of the humble potato and cabbage, from which so many of my ancestral dishes seem to come from. As we said in our home prior to eating, “priyatnogo appetita,” or as you might say in yours, bete’avon!

Notes:

To make this gluten-free: Use gluten-free sourdough, or omit the bread entirely, and swap with an additional potato.

To make this vegetarian/vegan: Omit the sausage and swap vegetable broth or vegan bouillon for chicken stock. The soup will be less smoky without sausage, but it is still a delicious vegetable soup. Make sure to season generously with salt and pepper. Top with sour cream at the end for extra richness.

For extra texture: when adding the sliced sausage back to the pot, reserve ½ of the slices and fry them up in a pan just before serving; then top each bowl with browned rounds of the sausage. Sourdough croutons also make for a great textural topping. 

If you don’t have a blender or food processor: You can keep this soup chunky and skip pureeing it, but I’d suggest omitting the sourdough bread, and instead replacing it with more fresh lemon juice or another acidic component like vinegar or sauerkraut. 

Make ahead: White borscht lasts up to one week in the fridge, and up to three months frozen. 

[horselessheadperson]

Here's what I want you to do.

I want you to figure out a carb you really enjoy. Then, I want you to find the best possible way to make that carb. You like white bread? Get some bread flour and figure out a lovely no knead recipe. You like rice? Heck, get a ten pound bag of the best rice you can afford at the local Asian supermarket, figure out how to get it nice and fluffy, find the aromatics you can afford and incorporate them. If you prefer potatoes, maybe you like them sauteed in butter, or baked with the peel on and then covered in cheese. Maybe you only really like the sourdough whole wheat they have at the local bakery that you can't afford every day, but sometimes you do.

Then I want, no, need you to figure out a lovely protein you vibe with. You can get some lovely seitan to marinate (nothing fancy, just oil with some spices and a bit of lemon juice). Maybe the local butcher is having a sale and you can get some chicken legs or even a nice cut of lamb. Are there any Turkish shops nearby or maybe a Maroccan or Chinese butcher? Amazing. Try what they have. You can figure out how to properly press tofu that was frozen and then thawed, so it really absorbs all the flavour you put into it.

Whatever it is, you're going to roast that protein with some fat and aromatics until it's at a safe temperature. Don't have an oven? Doesn't matter, braise it. You can add stock or wine, or just water if this week's tight. As long as there's some fat and salt in there, you just gotta add the right amount of heat.

Next you're gonna get the nice vegetables that are on sale at the supermarket or farmer's market. Don't get anything expensive, in fact the cheaper the more local and in season it probably is, just get something that looks juicy. Either figure out how to add the best dressing to that you can find, or cook it down with some salt and pepper, add some oil, I'm sure you have it down by now. God, just now I'm thinking of some braised green pumpkin, topped with some nice caramelised or pickled onions. Oh the joy of quick pickled veggies!

When you've completed these quests I want you to find a nice spot to sit down and get yourself the biggest plate you can find. You're going to want some company. You can get someone you love to join you, but sometimes you just want to think things through while you eat - I come up with some of my best ideas by eating in silence. You can watch a show or prop up a book and read. Sometimes I just listen to babble on the radio.

What you're going to do is forget any and all health advice you were ever given, you're not going to even spare a thought to calories or weight or proportions; I want you to pile that plate as high as you can. Maybe you only want three bites today! That's fine, and if you want two helpings an hour later you can go nuts. Maybe you want an entire roast chicken to yourself tonight and nothing can stop you.

Food is so amazing, you guys. Having the ability to taste food and be creative with it, learn a new skill, develop a palate and enjoy what you put together with love and attention is so wonderful. There's so much to discover out there!

Oh, and get a nice snack for while you're cooking. I like pitted kalamata olives or slices of cheese.

I love you!

[puppet-purgatory]

you won't post 1 headcanon for every puppet. you wont

i WILL. AND i'll do it in chronological order from appearance (more or less). but it will be under a readmore after the first season so i dont interrupt anyones scrollin

The Professor: i think in addition to growing a bit from Dino DNA(tm) he also has feathers now. just some feathers in there with his fur. maybe even molts and is miserable about it

Death: he plays guitar And piano, but just as a hobby. he's like a salaryman who had a garage band as a teenager and never fully gave up on the dream

Propeller: propeller SADSTUCK: i think he legitimately had to go to therapy for the britannica shit that happened. PH feels like it would be that realistic about mental health tbh

Big Pile of Diamonds: his mustache is fake. his greatest secret. his greatest shame.

God: he actually really likes to dance! unfortunately next 2 no one will do it since... The Incident

Train: does he not have a better name... maybe put a mr. in front of there... anyway he feels betrayed by the U.S. since they gave up the train model for highways/interstates and the motorcar industry. gets REALLY heated about it

Mt. Vesuvius: has a bunch of speeches given by famous latin authors and orators memorized, but sometimes he mashes them up without realizing/misattributes which one was written by whom. old man moments

Hatshepsut's Goose: can't remember what their gender was in life. that's fine, they love being a nonbinary icon. AMAB (Assigned Mummy at (em)Balming)

Clipped Coin: dodges the spool's wrath by being unflappable and so down to earth despite his apparent success. truly the king of staying in his own lane

Olympic Torch: hes a cranky piece of shit and only really enjoys sporting competition. he was complaining about being in the group puzzle photo so god just picked him up and he went ffffffffffine. okay. ill smile for 2 seconds

Gay Oars: i think they Also went to therapy, mostly relationship counseling, and now they are back and better than Ever. unbreakable bond. im abt to pen a whole ass comic series about them getting married in purgatory

Policarpa's Spool: still thinks of himself as a spy type, but there's only so much spying he can do in... purgatory. of course, his primary nemesis is the treasure chest.

Lake Donner Snowman: idk if this counts as a headcanon per se but in my very short list where i recast the puppets as famous singers, he is ABSOLUTELY voiced by Weird Al Yankovic.

St. Nick's Wet Bones: sort of taking the whole purgatory thing in stride. he kinda feels like he's in retirement! now he's a minor agent of chaos who's looked after by his darling Pickle Boys

Beast of Gevaudan: i was so sad when the infinitiger wasn't real, i wanted them to have a cooking show together so badly and destroy the horse's self-esteem. i love him. hes so abominably french

Stool of Gold: well-traveled, well-read, literally just as sensible as the Book or the Oars, but finds the chaos entertaining to spectate.

Ziryab's Oud: I think that the puppets have divvied up the whole Wondrium Arena and all have designated Living Areas, and he has a whole dressing room filled with shitty costumes he can't even wear. every time someone knocks he answers like hes on MTV's Cribs.

Bye Bye Brothers: they live in the orchestral pit and treat it like a secret lair. only other Murderer Puppets are allowed in. EXCLUSIVE club

Flower Boat: GNC Icon. this is a flower boat stan account. jenuinely a wholesome, emotional vessel doing their best to pitch in.

Molasses Horse: you can wash him as much as you want, that shit always just comes back somehow. the book theorizes it's psychosomatic at this point, since they're technically only souls at this point.

Tiny Piece of Wheat: bro i bet they went through SUCH phases after finding out about the professor's death. like all five stages of grief and then four more that have not yet been discovered by humans. dw kiddo, u got Grandparents incoming

Emu: the type of guy to fistfight you and then help you up. laid back but ready to throw down at a MOMENT'S notice. has no beef with the Wheat, but generally avoids them to keep from any Upsets.

Treasure Chest: has a little list of get-rick-quick schemes he wants to test, but has no way to in purgatory. he has one braincell bouncing around in his head like the DVD logo

Scabs & Pus: they get to hang out with the Bye Bye Brothers in their little club :) they're gross dudes to look at and be around. but they are ultimately harmless and friendly and just happy to be included.

Book: i love da book. I think he lives in the music library backstage and finds librettos for stageplays/musicals to pitch to the group to put on, as well as produces their little TV shows.

Birch Trees: since they share a root system, they have a telepathic link and communicate without even speaking, which is fucking creepy as hell when one or both of them just start laughing out of nowhere. they probably enjoy acting sinister

Asmodeus: he worked HARD on his song for the show!!!!! i think he's a bit of a ham sometimes when he gets the chance. also his goat head bites literally anything that comes close on reflex.

The Devil: while everything he does is to get souls, it also feels like he wants for positive and is less an Enemy of God and more an Irritating Coworker. in my brain they have a whole Tom and Jerry thing going on.

I don't have anything for the Fake Puppets the Substitute impersonated, but im planning on drawing some infinitiger soon bc he was my fave for sure

The Substitute: this is PURELY crack but i think it would be hilarious if he had voice commands like some tech does. i want him to climb back in the window and ryan just yells XBOX TURN OFF and he vanishes.

Dino Dad/Dinosir: i think even after he gets to the present and learns about all kinds of rocks and gems and crystals he Still just loves a big old rock he can lay on and sun himself with. like a dad and his armchair. doesnt gotta be fancy, just has to be comfy.

Dino Mom/Dinosara: i think she would be REALLY into the fake tv shows the puppets in the Wondrium Arena make. and they'd probably Love to have her as a fan. i think both the professor's parents are Hella popular.

[mylevisdontfitanymore]

So…forgive me if you’ve done something like this before but Steve/Nat/Bucky have been living rent free in my head for a while now and I thought…what if Nat was just having a really lousy time and Steve and Bucky just cooked her an authentic Russian meal to cheer her up but they can’t cook. So they keep practicing and tasting until they get it right…putting on weight as they go because…decadent cuisine, amirite? She notices her little pelmeni getting bigger but she doesn’t mind. She keeps tasting, taunting them, saying it’s not right, try again. Until they get it right, only they’re not the only chubby ones anymore…but Nat doesn’t realize it until she indulges in one of their truly amazing meals and ends up popping a button. Sexy times!

Completely ignores the fact that the last writing I did here was all but a month ago and returns like nothing happened.

I haven't done something like this before! I dig it! It's giving this scene between Wanda and Vision

Also, it reminds me of this Steve and Natasha fic that I adore "Shaping Happiness"

Inspiration/reminders aside... yes! This idea is great!

I went off the prompt a little bit because I couldn’t help myself, I hope it’s still enjoyable!

Warnings for Steve × Natasha × Bucky belly kink below the cut. Unbeta'd. Stuffing, weight gain, dirty talk, etc.

At first, all the food Steve and Bucky attempt to cook for Natasha to cheer her up is truly terrible.

Steve has never been much of a cook, so he claims it’s not his fault. Listen! He's unlucky enough to burn water! So, as Bucky rediscovers Steve’s kitchen ineptitude, he's quickly relegated to boiling water at most and tasting as Bucky cooks at least. Steve cannot be trusted with knives and veggies most of the time (Bucky will never understand how he’s a superhero who can hold his own in combat), nor can he be trusted to measure something correctly (he’d much rather just "eyeball" it), and there is never a time where it is acceptable to allow Steve to cook something. He will turn up the temperature, thinking it’s not cooking fast enough, and accidentally attempt to burn the entire apartment to the ground. So, Steve gets to taste.

Only taste.

Bucky will give him spoonfuls or bits and pieces, and Steve will greedily take them. Praising Bucky’s cooking ability (re: his non-disaster existence in the kitchen that Steve occasionally envies, lmao) and asking for more, please? Weaponizing those pretty baby blues when Bucky’s successful enough for things to be edible.

Obviously, Bucky is a better chef between the two of them, but he's out of practice (years of being the fist of HYDRA will do that to you) and unfamiliar with these kinds of foods. So, even though he's still got a few of his Ma's recipes in the very back of his brain (not that Depression-era foods to keep the family fed are very good compared to a lot of these Russian delicacies), nothing is really… right… when they first begin making comfort food for Natasha.

They try all the staples:

Solyanka (sweet and sour beef stew), zharkoye (beef (or whatever extra meat you have around the house) and vegetable stew), zharkeo (chicken stew), etc.

Borscht (red beet soup), okroshka (vegetables, egg, potato, and meat soup), rassolnik (beef, barley, and pickle soup), shchi (cabbage soup), ukha (fish soup), etc.

Pelmeni (meat dumplings), pirozhki (savory baked or fried puff pastries), blini (wheat crepe-like pastries with sweet or savory fillings), borodinsky (dark rye bread), vatrushka (sweet pastry with cottage cheese and raisins), shashlik (kebabs with cubed meat and vegetables), ikra (caviar on bread/blini), pirozhki (yeast dough stuffed with savory or sweet fillings), etc.

Morozheneo (extra creamy Russian ice cream), pashka (sweetened cheesecake), kartoshka (basically Russian cake pops, often chocolate), kissel (cherry soup), medovik (layered honey and condensed milk cake), etc.

Steve will often spend the time that Bucky is spending cooking by looking up new recipes, and new foods, making sure to take them from credible sources so they don’t end up in a “diner situation”

The diner situation was what happened when Bucky was first recovering and they were surviving on takeout because Bucky was too afraid to allow himself around knives again and Steve was struggling (unsurprising), so no cooking for him, and they went to an “all-American diner.” Hoping for a taste of home and instead finding that the diner served food that was God fucking awful and worst of all, nothing like the actual food of the day it was claiming to represent! It made them both feel worse - lonelier. No one understood what it was like. What the food was, what the culture was, what it was like.

They don’t want that.

They will not be making some bogus “Russian food” that isn’t actually authentic.

Anyway -

All traditional Russian cuisine that Bucky attempts while Steve watches and tastes and researches aren't any good at first.

Like, they suck so much that Steve and Bucky don't even serve them to Natasha. Tasha doesn’t even know what they’re doing. She’s always out on missions or on Capitol Hill with Fury whenever they try their hand at making her familiar Russian foods by their design. While alone together in the apartment, Steve and Bucky quietly try each creation themselves, can barely swallow it at first, and decide… not yet.

Not yet.

They both want it to be perfect.

So, even when Steve begins to use his puppy-dog eyes for evil, begging for more treats, more tastes, because, holy shit, Buck, that’s great! That has to be what that is supposed to taste like! They don’t share the plan with Natasha yet.

Not yet.

Natasha catches onto the fact that something is going on as she starts to squint her eyes and pinch Steve’s hip or ass, gratefully sighing, “at least between the two of you, someone is fully embracing the house-husband lifestyle.”

Embracing the house-husband lifestyle by packing on a few pounds. Just enough to soften Steve’s usually perfect abs into a flat belly (unless he’s stuffed or bloated) and turning his thighs and ass into soft, squeezable shapes.

Bucky and Steve have both retired, giving them all the more time to spend experimenting and practicing recipes for Natasha as house-husbands and homemakers. But Steve is the only one beginning to plump up. He’s stopped going for his morning run and afternoon workouts cold turkey. Bucky still goes to the gym. He finds it meditative. Cooking and working out seem to be some of the only things that completely clear his mind. Steve, on the other hand, has always been single-minded. And it seems like eating has taken up all of his focus.

There's no room for anything else.

Steve tastes as Bucky goes, describing the flavors the best he can, telling him what he might try adding and how the flavor compares to what his research has told him the dish is supposed to be like. Then, when the dish is done, Steve tries it first, while it’s still hot (even if it’s supposed to be served cooled, Steve can’t help but have a healthy serving before it goes into the fridge). He gives notes again. Bucky tries it when it's fully ready. He has a nibble or two, just enough to taste - nothing like the full servings that Steve takes. Bucky has already had his lunch, and he doesn’t want to spoil his dinner. Then, if it’s good, Steve eats the rest of whatever they’ve made.

All of the rest.

Bucky’s taken to telling Steve to “hide the evidence” since they don’t want Tasha to know until they’re ready for her…

Is it really hiding, though, if they both know where the extra food is ending up in the form of a pretty, shaping-up pot belly? Sticking straight out from Steve's well-defined chest.

Food for thought. Ha.

“What is Bucky feeding you when I’m away?” Natasha purrs, on her knees, her sharp, white teeth digging into the new slope of Steve’s belly. He chugged a whole, huge pot of stew when Natasha texted an approximate 10-minute ETA. Getting rid of the evidence except… the stew was full of melt-in-your-mouth meat and potatoes and salt. Heavy. This stew isn't fucking around and it's apparently delectable (Steve's word). So, it’s obvious where the stew has gone. Right into his pot belly.

Swollen.

Once Natasha arrived, Steve was still sweating and just beginning to bloat up like a balloon from the excess sodium. And Tasha's always present 6th sense for knowing how best to drive Steve up the wall, complained about how hungry she was.

A devious grin split Bucky’s face, asking what she was craving because they’d be sure to order lots of it. Whatever she wanted.

She said Indian food.

Perfect.

That’s not something Steve can resist. He loves Indian food. And, sure enough, he wolfed down a whole ‘nother dinner. Getting red in the face from the spice heat and temperature heat, his poor belly gurgling loudly in a fit of digestion.

Steve shrugs in reply to her question, biting his lip out of arousal but also out of desperation to hide the overfull groan that wants to come out of him. He’s been fighting burps and moans and hiccups all evening. Trying to not make his packed state so fucking obvious.

Bucky thought he was into seeing Steve like this - bloated and round - because he loves seeing his fella happy and healthy and fulfilled. Bucky thought he was into cooking and baking and experimenting with food for Natasha because he loves her, and he wants to make her happy and bring her comfort and just do something sweet for her. Those things are true. But, watching Natasha dig her painted nails into Steve’s soft parts…

There’s something else here, too.

Woo, boy.

“Mm,” Natasha is half-asleep, exhausted from yet another mission, yawning, and curled up like a cat in a sunspot between them. Her head is cushioned on Steve’s chest, “‘m pretty sure we could get rid of our pillows and be just fine.” She squeezes the pec that her head isn’t pillowed on in her hand, groping him, “got enough right here.”

Steve inhales shakily, turning bright red.

Bucky can tell by looking at him that he’s not insulted, far from it, that’s his this-is-making-my-dick-hard face. He's squirming, too. Blood going straight for his dick with a vengeance.

“Eh, just wait a little longer 'fore we make any rash decisions, m'kay, doll?” Bucky murmurs, amused, running his metal fingers through Tasha’s fire-red hair.

She grumpily frowns but then snuggles more into Steve’s jiggly chest, taking it as being warned about how tired she is rather than waiting because Steve’s going to get plumper. More cushion.

Good.

The more blindsided she is by the comfort, the better. Bucky wants it to take her out - to make her feel so much better that all she can do is accept it. She has a hard enough time allowing herself simple pleasures.

She deserves it all and more.

“Damn, Rogers, you ever think about doing a centerfold? I’m pretty sure Playboy would make an exception for you if we asked.” Natasha husks, her face all up in Steve’s business. Lips and teeth and tongue working at his little hole while her hands spread his extra full cheeks apart.

Steve simply whines, high-pitched and pathetic.

It’s a damn good response, considering her question and considering how Bucky has his cock rammed down his throat. Stuffing him.

Steve is suspended between them, face-planted onto Bucky’s cock, choking, his arms useless, half crushed under his chest against the bed, and arching back against Tasha. His legs shake under him when Natasha does something special with her sharp tongue. Steve’s in heaven. Choking on dick, throat full, and getting fucked with a hot, wet tongue deep inside his sweet hole.

Now, after weeks and weeks of practice, not just Steve’s big, heavy dick hangs down toward the bed... now his belly does, too. It jiggles when he squirms. Every time Bucky squeezes his growing gut, Steve makes a sound like he’s dying. It’s a different sound to what he makes when Natasha gropes his thickening ass or widening love handles. Also, different from the sound he makes when they feel up his expanding tits. All his sounds are sweet, but the sound he makes for his belly is especially guttural and desperate.

“Curves for days,” Bucky bites out, thrusting in hard. “Better than any of the girls in those pages.”

Steve chokes.

Tasha laughs, just this side of cruel. “Mmm-hmm,” she spanks his ass just to watch the fat flesh ripple, “getting more and more curves these days. I guess retirement is good for somethin’.”

The growl Bucky lets out is unintentional. It’s barely been a year since they retired. So, what will Steve look like in a year? What will Natasha look like when she’s face-first in his ass then? Will Natasha have to buy a longer strap to reach Stevie’s hole, much of the plastic length getting swallowed by his monstrous ass? How fat will Steve be if they keep going, his perfect, little, superhero figure ruined?

Jesus, Mary, and Joseph.

Bucky can’t take the thought. He ends up coming down Steve’s throat with a shout from behind gritted teeth.

Steve doesn’t mysteriously grow forever, though...

When they’re ready, Bucky and Steve arrange with Fury for Natasha to have a full three-day weekend off, no interruptions unless the world is literally being torn in two. Then, with the guarantee, they prepare.

First, Steve does research into the traditional Russian foods that would be used for a celebration - a feast - and arranges an entire multi-course menu for the occasion. His poor belly, so used to tasting and now able to recognize most of the dishes he comes across, wails the whole time he works. He’s not hungry. Not exactly. He just wants something in his mouth. He wants to taste. He can’t wait for the feast. Bucky has to remind him again and again that this is Natasha’s feast. She’s going to eat what she wants, and then Steve can destroy the leftovers.

Second, Bucky prepares all the dishes. One last time. Every detail on point. Practicing. Getting everything as perfect as he can. Making sure the dishes and drinks in each course compliment each other well.

Steve gobbles it all up, stuffed like a traditional American Thanksgiving turkey by the end of it. Panting around his bounty, all of it shoved down his throat, turning his belly into a red, tight beachball that Bucky wants to worship.

And for once, Bucky is relieved that Natasha is currently, before her long weekend, on a multiple-day mission. She’s out of the apartment and not returning tonight. He’s relieved because it means he doesn’t have to explain this to her.

Steve. Stuffed. Food-drunk and hard and moaning about it.

There’s no way this would be an accident. No one gets completely, illogically gorged like this without trying.

When did tasting bits and pieces become vacuuming up the entire dish Bucky made anyway? Bucky doesn’t exactly know. But he can’t complain. All he can do is rub Steve’s skin with lotion then jerk him off slow and tight, dragging it out until Steve is sobbing, holding his taunt gut desperately like he can keep himself together, keep himself from splitting at the seams, and then blacking out when he’s finally allowed to come because it feels so good.

Third, they prepare all the food before Tasha is set to arrive home. She’s been in debrief most of the morning, but before that, she caught a cat nap on the quinjet and then showered at Stark Tower. She should be refreshed. There’ll be no reason to delay the feast. Bucky doesn’t want to have to reheat it and ruin some of the delicate flavor.

He wants it perfect.

Steve waddles around, helping Bucky to set the table the traditional Russian way - including the shot of vodka next to the water and wine glasses. Steve waddles because Bucky had to make sure he had his fill of food before the feast. Otherwise, he would’ve probably been helpless not to hoover up all the decadence laid out in front of him. He’s created a monster. Even if it’s been hotter than sin to watch him lose self-control after so many years of being perfectly in control of every little part of himself and his life - but, there needs to be an intervention of that new habit today.

So, Steve is stuffed, barely holding himself together. Panting. Flushed. Sweaty. Aroused. Filled.

Bucky is so focused on the stew in front of him, steaming on the stovetop, as he ladles it into an appropriate bowl for serving that he doesn’t hear Natasha unlock the apartment door. The first thing he hears from her is a pleased moan.

“What is that smell?” She asks, her husky voice bright.

“I think you know what it is,” Bucky chirps back, charming.

“Mm-hm,” she hums. Bucky hopes he isn’t projecting when he thinks that she sounds delighted.

But, before he can get anything else out of her, he hears her gasp. He’s about to round the corner and check on her, make sure nothing is wrong after her mission, when -

“Oh, маленький поросенок,” she purrs, “this is why you’ve grown so plump, isn’t it?”

Bucky shivers, setting down both the ladle and the bowl, quickly stalking toward the dining table. Little piglet. God. Did he hear her correctly? Did - is… is that what she really just called Steve?

Little piglet.

The meaning of the words themselves, along with the sound of smooth, purred Russian in Natasha’s voice, leaves Bucky’s heart pounding in his chest.

This was part of the plan, too. Making Steve irrestiable, putting him on display, was part of the plan. He just didn’t -

He didn’t expect it to affect him so much.

He wanted it for Tasha.

Just for her, he left Steve at the dining table, sitting back in one of the heavy wooden chairs with his big belly wedged between the armrests as a gift. Huffing and puffing, stuffed as he already is. His hands resting on either round, bowed-out side of his tummy, rubbing himself lazily. He’s in a tight white t-shirt that’s been pushed up by his swollen middle, exposing a delicious, pale slice of his lower belly that’s been marked by hot, pink stretch marks. Even the serum can’t keep up with the ravenous appetite inside of Steve. The elastic of his grey sweatpants has been stretched to its limits and crushed under his gut. If his heavy belly is lifted up, jostled enough to make him moan, it becomes obvious just how low his sweats are on his hips because the top of his neatly trimmed, blond pubic hair is right there.

Sweet.

He looks delicious.

He looks like one of the Russian pastries Bucky has prepared. Golden and puffy. Hell, he might look more like the dough for the pastry before it’s baked - he’s certainly doughy and soft and he’s expanding out of his clothes like he’s expanding, growing from too much yeast.

Natasha is standing next to him now, her mouth open, staring at him, trying to figure out where to begin. A cat with a mouse, all hers to play with.

The moment she touches him, Steve arches his back, pushing into her touch. Hungry for even that.

Gluttonous.

He’s so gluttonous.

More. More. More.

More of everything. Anything.

“You gonna sit down, doll?”

Natasha shuts her full lips with a click but nods, almost shy with how her eyes flick toward him, then away. Demure in a way that she never is. Normally, if she wants something. She’s going to get it.

This is a different side of her, and Bucky already likes it.

Bucky pulls out a chair for her, the one directly across the table from Steve. She sits, and he pushes her in. He leaves quite a bit of space between her and the table, hoping her gluttonous side will appear and flourish, too. He wants to see her belly grow until it touches the edge of the table.

Christ.

He wants her to eat until she can’t have another bite.

Maybe she’ll let him feed her like Steve lets him.

Maybe she’ll grow as round and fat as Steve has.

He enjoys having one little piglet as a lover, so what could be better than two?

Fuck.

More than excited, Bucky sits himself at the head of the table after bringing the first course. He serves Steve just as much as he serves Natasha, unable to not feed him when he looks so sweet. Even if the plan had been to stuff Steve beforehand so he would be sated (and also to allow him to sit for long enough that he’d be ready to play by the time Natasha was done eating).

Steve is...

He's perfect. Irresistible. Blue eyes dazed, eyelids heavy, cheeks red with heat, head hanging low enough to give him a full double chin. A preview of what’s to come if he keeps blowing up like a balloon. It’s delicious.

Tasha eats everything that Bucky serves her. Everything. Practically licking each plate or bowl clean. She praises his dedication, obviously noticing the care and preparation of the presentation but also tasting the care and prep. These are not flavors that are easy to attain. It’s not perfect. But Natasha is glad it isn’t perfect. That means they can do this again. And again and again and again. Until they have it perfect. Then. Even after that, they should do it. This is good.

Natasha is enjoying herself because, perfect or not, it does settle her. She feels like she could close her eyes and be in one of the rare moments of her childhood where she felt safe and comforted. Better than that, too. With her eyes open, she’s here with her lovers. Her маленький поросенок [little piglet] and her… her кормушка.

Кормушка.

That feels right.

Her feeder.

That’s what Bucky is doing, feeding her, stuffing her, giving her everything she wanted and beyond. More than she could’ve imagined.

The fuller Tasha gets, the farther they get through the courses, the more settled she feels.

It’s hard, she realizes, to allow her abs to let go and expand with the bulk of the food she’s putting down, but, when they make it to the third type of stew, Bucky pauses to rub her belly over her tightening blouse and she moans and breathes heavy and let's go.

She unrounds.

She didn’t realize she was sucking in every moment of every day. Exhaustive. Letting go makes her toes curl. She watches Steve across the table and does as he does, mirroring him, squirming.

“Oh, Джеймс,” Natasha moans his name in Russian, James. Moving side to side, squirming, she can feel the food sloshing inside her. It’s so akin to the feeling of being fucked that it’s shocking. Full. Every sweet spot inside her hit. No wonder Steve loves this enough to have plumped up so deliciously, so rapidly.

She must be making a wet spot on her chair. The heat between her legs is so intense. She would love to squeeze her legs together and feel the throb of her pussy, stimulating herself, but she’s afraid she can’t move her legs. They’ve fallen apart. Spread. Making room for her belly to grow between.

Grow and grow and grow.

Until it’s inhibited by the size of her shirt and the band of her pants, belted tightly to her skin. Her blouse is too tight. The belt is cutting her in half. Without the belt, she’s sure her pants would be giving her trouble anyway. Together, it’s all agony. And these pathetic sounds she only makes when her lovers spend their day working her up and up and up, not letting her come until the sun has begun to set and all she can do is weakly clutch at them, crying, sobbing, and whimpering for her release. Begging to have it. And making a massive mess when she does, squirting hard enough the first time she was convinced she pissed herself. Just. Drenched. Broken like a dry branch snapping.

Crack.

How does she feel like she’s there already?

Steve is watching her from across the table with this obscene, blatant, animal desire etched into his pretty face. She’s not sure she’s ever seen him look so dumb and dominant at once. Like he wants to take her, to devour her, but he doesn’t know how.

Not a thought in his head.

She doesn't blame Steve, though. It is exquisitely difficult to think when so stuffed. She's full up to her eyebrows, and every swallow is forcing her brain out of her head. No thoughts.

Bucky reflects the look on Steve’s face, just, without so much of the stupid. He’s clearly awed, but he knows exactly what he wants.

What he wants to do to her.

What he wants from her.

Pop.

Before she can even realize what’s happened, Natasha is moaning, gruff and loud, and breathless all at once. She has a mouthful of food that she’s having a hard time swallowing, and her body doesn’t want more food. Her mind wants more food. She needs. More. Just a little more. Please? This feast has to end at some point, doesn’t it? So she might as well take all she can get while she can get it, right?

What happened? She turns her head towards Bucky, feeling entirely shit-faced drunk in a way that she… she hasn’t maybe ever felt.

Tasha swallows her mouthful of food, moaning as it slides into her. Stuffing her more. Deep. And -

Pop. Pop.

“AH!” She moans again, twisting her head too fast when she hears an answering clink, clink.

Her eyes follow the sound and find Steve’s plate and her answer.

Two of the three buttons she’s just popped off of her blouse, each feeling like an orgasm in their own right, has landed on his plate.

Steve is staring at them. Chin doubled. Hungry and dumb with his mouth open.

Oh.

Natasha squirms as much as her overfull, clothes-breaking gut will allow for, crying out when she feels her bare skin come into contact with the edge of the table.

She's grown so huge.

Please, please, please.

She doesn’t know what she’s begging for, what her little, hurt, desperate sounds mean. She just knows she needs.

And the second Bucky pulls out her chair, rips her blouse open to allow her to fully expand, tears her belt out of the buckle, shreds her pants, and gets his head between her shaking thighs, she’s coming. Coming and coming and coming. It feels endless. Steve’s eyes are hot enough on her to feel like a physical touch that throws her over the edge that much more. The hot, wet press of Bucky’s mouth against her, her soaked tight core, is too much.

“Oh, oh, oh!” She can’t stop moaning as she orgasms, entirely swept up by the tide of pleasure and excess.

This is absolutely happening again. She's already -

Yeah.

She already knows.

Absolutely.

She gets off so hard on it, stuffed to glutted at their dining table, Steve in the same condition, that Tasha thinks she may never get off on anything else ever. She's been ruined. She already knows.

She's ruined, and this is going to ruin her figure. All she can think about is how decadent Steve feels, fat and soft and lush, and her own body being that? Oh, it blows her mind. Their bodies together, both fat and soft and lush and curvy and round, next to Bucky - all solid, hard muscle. Oh, fuck, that obliterates her mind.

😳

[antimonyandthyme]

wip snippet game!

thank you @rosyjuly for the tag <33

tagging @kritischetheologie, @elementalmoments, @astronomical-light, @unabashedlycasualangel and @sebrrari if you'd like to play!

The sun is a molten grapefruit in the sky. Nearly three months without a single drop of rain, the weight of the world is bearing down on them like glass over an anthill. If Sebastian spares any more water for his chickens, he’ll only have one cup rationed to last himself through the day. He looks at Heidi, Mint, and Pickle, and does it anyway. The corn he’s growing has withered so severely even a meagre harvest is in question. One farm down, Mark’s wheat is burnished brown and spiky to the touch. Jenson, opposite him, is faring no better with his greens.

The people are desperate, and so is their king. That night, as Sebastian fights for an inch of rest in the stifling heat, the king’s high mages perform their ceremonies.

And that morning, Sebastian’s farm is on fire.

Sebastian wakes to Jenson banging his door down. “Seb. Seb! Your corn!”

But the corn isn’t burning, despite the flames dancing all around their leaves. The entire acre of land is ablaze and there isn’t a whiff of smoke. No trace of ash in the air either. With the flickering light the corn almost looks golden.

Stupidly, Sebastian reaches out a hand to touch. He knows down to the marrow of his bones that the flames will not burn him either.

Mark grabs him and yanks him back. “Don’t, okay? Let’s figure this out first.”

He knows what his friends are doing. They’re stalling. It’s clear as crystal this is a sign from the sun god, and something of this scale will reach the ears of the king in no time. Jenson and Mark are only trying to delay the inevitable, worry apparent in their eyes.

Sebastian shakes Mark off and plucks off three ears of corn. It might be the last meal he has with his friends. He pulls them into his hut. The corn he puts into the oven to bake, using the last of the butter he’s saved up. Jenson boils water for coffee, while Mark hunts around for something to make it stronger.

It’s the best tasting corn he’s ever had in his life. Made better still with the whiskey in his coffee. Mark and Jenson try to laugh at his jokes even through their sombreness. Mark tweaks his ear and says, “Be good—” and then abruptly changes it to, “Be careful.”

No amount of care will protect him from the wrath of a god, but this time, just this time, Sebastian doesn’t argue with Mark.

An hour later there’s a posh knock on their door. Sebastian’s a little glad he only had a quart of whiskey left, or the three of them will be blindingly drunk in front of the king’s guards.

Sebastian is pulled out of Jenson’s hands, and taken to the palace. It’s only halfway through the journey that Sebastian realizes he’d forgotten to say goodbye to his girls. He consoles himself with the fact that Jenson will have some room on his farm for chickens. He knows Mark probably won’t take them. Mark doesn’t like birds. Sebastian presses the heel of his hand into his eye, and tries not to cry.

The king announces, “You have been chosen,” as if it were some revelation.

For once in your life, shut up, Sebastian hears Mark say, and he manages to hold his tongue before he tells the king, I know.

[greatgigintheskiess]

G/t July #10: Ancient

Yeah, I know I skipped the other days... but I wanted to participate anyway so here's a snippet for ya :P

Word Count: < 1 k

Finn couldn't even remember how he got lost. But there he was, aimlessly straying through the thicket. The boy was miles away from his home by now. And slowly but surely, he was losing hope to ever find a way back.

Looks like he has to find a place for the night. Bad thing was, he didn't carry any weapons to defend himself from wild animals. And his stomach was growling as he didn't eat anything today. He was so exhausted.

The boy kept on walking further in an unknown direction and for as long as his legs would carry him. Eventually, Finn spotted a path that led out of the forest and to some ancient ruins. He stood on a clearing, surrounded by abandoned remains from what might've been a castle once. The one he entered was so huge and enormous and, if he wouldn't know any better, he'd say even gigantic.

Soon Finn perceived a very pleasant smell and went after it. He was still so hungry. The boy found a room what appeared to be a kitchen, poorly furnished though. A cauldron stood in the middle, on the walls were shelves filled with different herbs and jars of wheat, pickled food and more. But the only odd thing about this was the size. Everything was huge in comparison to him.

Someone really tall must live here but giants only existed in myths and legends, right?

The child didn't hesitate long and climbed onto a table that stood beside the cauldron. There he found food almost as big as himself. But the boy went over to a plate and started eating as much as he could until a deep voice caught him off guard.

"Well well, look what we have here. Don't you think it's rude to just steal someone's food?"

The boy turned around and froze when he saw a giant talking to him.

But that's not possible! Giants are not real!

Finn wanted to say something but nothing seemed to come out of his mouth. He just stared at the old giant in fright.

"What's the matter, kid?" The giant asked with amusement. "Have you lost your tongue?

Eventually, Finn answered meekly. "I-i'm not looking for trouble. I'm sorry for d-disturbing you... I'll go right away!"

The boy already stepped a bit backwards and wanted to run over to the table's edge when he was scooped up by a pair of large hands.

"Wait a moment, I'm not done with you yet." The giant said and peered at the tiny boy in his hands. Finn was scared to the core. He already imagined how the giant would throw him in the cauldron and eat him with neck and crop. The boy shivered by the mere thought of what he could even do to him. Finn shielded himself with his trembling hands.

"Please, don't eat me! I didn't mean to steal!" The child pleaded, close to tears.

That's when he heard a loud deep laugh which completely confused him. Finn lowered his arms and saw the giant laughing amusedly.

What's so funny about it?

"I ain't gonna eat you, kid." He chuckled. "Just look at you, you're only skin and bones!"

Finn had no idea what was even going on here. He continued staring at the buff guy who laughed his head off. Suddenly the giant tilted his hands, causing the child to tumble on one palm. The giant placed the boy on a counter, where he had a good view of him.

"Hm, I'm starting to like you, little boy." He said with a cheeky grin. "What's your name?"

"It's…Finn."

The boy noticed pinning light eyes on him. He could see the giant's long dark hair, some strands braided, and his tied beard. Only now the boy realized he looked nothing like a regular human, telling by his pointy ears.

"Now, you probably heard of me, didn't you?" The giant stopped his train of thought.

But Finn had no idea what to say. So he just shook his head, feeling uncomfortable.

"No?" The giant gave him a disappointed look. "C'mon, toots. The giant of Eldham? Does that ring a bell?"

The boy rummaged in his mind. He could remember having heard about it but wasn't that just an old fairytale parents told their kids?

"Uhm, I guess. But I always thought it was just a legend." Finn replied awkwardly. He really just wanted to get away from here. But the giant seemed to think otherwise, continuing their little conversation.

"You see, it's not. And I haven't seen humans around in ages but somehow you found me here."

The giant rested his chin on his hand, stemming on the counter. Finn felt a warm breath on his skin, tousling his blond hair. As if this talk wasn't awkward enough, the boy heard his stomach growling loudly. His face turned crimson when the giant chuckled softly.

"You're hungry, aren't you, kid?" He uttered, handing him a piece of the food from the table. "Here, have a few bites."

The child peered a while at the offered food and eventually took it thankfully. Finn was hungry, indeed, so he could hardly refuse, couldn't he?

And besides, wasn't he looking for a place to eat and sleep before anyway?

But little did the boy know then, he would be in the company of an ancient giant. And if Finn told anyone about it, they would think he made this up.

[ambiguouspuzuma]

The Essentialist

He threw out the baby, but kept the bathwater. That was Dom Afonso's method for creating miracles: to prepare the ingredient, to allow it to steep for a while, like a strong cup of red cha, and then to dispose of it, believing he had captured its most important part. The character, or flavour, of what he'd wanted to define. The essence. Having drained away that precious wheat, he felt that he could freely dispense with the chaff.

Of course, it fell to Margarida to do the actual dispensing. In this case, she returned the child to where it had been found, a park bench on Rua Luís António, not really any worse for wear, and certainly more fragrant than it had been this morning. Not that Dom Afonso had worried about its wellbeing. He lost all interest in his subjects once the process was complete, and might have happily allowed the child to perish, were it not for fear that the taint of death would ruin his vivified result.

An elixir of youth. It was the treasure that had captivated many a soul, from Alexander of Macedon to Juan Ponce to León, but they had always sought to discover it in some lagoon or cavern pool, rather than simply prepare it themselves. The infamous countess, Elizabeth Báthory, had allegedly bathed in the blood of a hundred maidens to hold back the march of time, but for Dom Afonso it had only taken the bathing of one, with not a pinprick on the baby's soft unspoiled skin.

When Margarida returned, the potion was stoppered, preserved in viscous amber, the process complete. That was another thing that never changed. She was enthralled by the magic that happened here, a spellbound audience as Dom Afonso distilled and decanted, boiling romance into stock and pickling courage in a vat of ocean brine, but she was never asked to truly be a part of it. Margarida mopped the floors and scoured the equipment, obtained ingredients and cleared them away again, but Dom Afonso performed the alchemy alone.

The month before, he had prepared a tincture of flight from fledgling feathers, plucked insect wings like delicate slips of lace, and even a measure of powdered pterodactyl bone, but she had never really seen how they combined, charged instead with sweeping up where he'd already been, cleaning the traces of what had already been done. She had come here to learn his method, but mostly saw just the beginning, and sometimes only the end result.

There were dozens of those in the workshop, sealed flasks arrayed in such a way to best catch the early light - and indeed those rays were captured in a flask labelled dawn, imbued with lark eyes and ocelot musk, a half-opened moss rose and east-facing sunflower, in beeswax and morning dew - and she had watched each from the outside, as if contained within her own glass bulb, tucked away and stoppered to keep her separate from the rest.

At first, she had simply blamed the demands of her job, having been hired to assist Dom Afonso, not to gawk as he performed miracles, thinking it only natural that she must be doing something else at the same time, and therefore always miss the moment of creation, as else he would not need another pair of hands. But she'd still been determined to catch a glance, here and there, to piece it all together over time - and perhaps, one day, be at hand to take the reins when he retired. Elixir of youth or not.

Now, though, she realised that it was impossible. Not because she lacked the capacity to learn - Margarida had always pictured her mind as a sort of empty flask, bound to be filled with the essence of his knowledge - but because Dom Afonso lacked the willingness to teach. At first, she had felt frustrated, seemingly always dismissed at a pivotal moment, but now she knew that was intentional - it was too regular, too well-timed, to be anything else. Her master was jealous of his secrets, and sent her away precisely as his work required their application.

Dom Afonso was a curious man. He was aloof, distant, no more attentive to her than he had been to the baby - he cared only for his work, and that which might aid it. Margarida had lived with him these past few months, and seen him show affection to just a handful of people, those who might serve as new ingredients: a woman with afflicted eyes, or a man with a luxurious head of hair. Having grown familiar with that cold, assessing gaze, it was almost a relief to be ignored.

He could only be described in absences, like a silhouette that blocked particular rays of light, the outline of a man but with lacunae in his heart. Margarida had once had a favourite uncle, Tio Gonçalo: her mother's older brother, the family comedian, the man who had first taught her to play bisca and bake custard tarts, as generous with his time as he was with his laughter, always with a boiled sweet in his pocket and a twinkle in his eye. Dom Afonso was the opposite of that. He was how she'd felt at Tio Gonçalo's funeral.

He seemed to lack any essence of his own, which perhaps made him more adept at finding them - although that made it hard for her to warm to him in turn. His face bore the deep red sheen of a Beira Alta apple, but held none of its sweetness inside. His only passion, his only saving grace, was his work. That was when he came to life, as far as Margarida could tell: she had sat through many a sermon on the theory, much though he deprived her of the practice.

Dom Afonso was a staunch believer in the cause of clarity: that everything could be distilled down to its essentials. A drop of youth today, a pinch of happiness next week. He'd taught Margarida that, if nothing else. His process was not limited to the extraction of senses, as a perfumier chasing delicate scents - here for a moment, the brevity of a breath, then gone in the breadth of a lingering breeze. Instead, his finds were the thing itself: the essential oils, or oleaginous essences, that made up everything that mattered in the world.

He might well be a sociopath, but he was also a homeopath, and she sometimes wondered which of the twain had come first. Perhaps his devotion to that religion had simply stripped him of all other cares, his other senses diluted so that he might focus on the piquancy of primal concepts - or perhaps this was all to fill that absence in himself, and he was still just searching for the vial marked empathy.

Sometimes he teased her with the prospect of discovery. There had been a time when she'd been allowed to stay after the water boiled, and attended closely as he crushed a wad of withered leaves, steeping them gentling in the pot, and felt brave enough to ask a question: "What is this one going to be?"

Dom Afonso's glance had been more withering still.

"Herbal tea," he'd replied.

On another occasion she'd been tasked with boiling the water herself, a quantity far in excess of any tea, coffee or cocoa requirements, and been thrilled to finally be included in the process. After diligently following his instructions for months, he had finally rewarded her with involvement, trusted to do something more important than scrubbing and scouring and sweeping up after him. It had turned out to be the water for his bath. He'd expected her to do it every three days after that.

That had sowed the essence of a plan. Deprived of any instruction to feed her ravenous mind, Margarida had whiled away those long hours thinking up her own ways to glean some of that forbidden knowledge: doubling back and hiding the next time he asked her to go out, leaving a cloth hung over a table so that she could crouch there just-so, breaking into his private rooms and searching for a notebook filled with golden secrets.

She resented all the tasks he had her do - drawing the bath, brewing the drinks, washing his clothes - but resented more the ones he didn't. Margarida wished that she could be the master for once, but she knew that Dom Afonso would never allow that to come to pass. It would mean his replacement, or at least her independence. That knowledge had been purposefully withheld: leaving her education incomplete, so that she, incomplete, could never leave.

The eureka moment had come in the bathroom. Margarida was filling the vast pewter tub, its clawed feet straining against the sudden weight, and reflected again upon that first misunderstanding: she had boiled the water expecting a cauldron, but been directed to haul the pot upstairs instead. It had been an easy mistake to make - she had witnessed many a concoction begun in a similar way, with a simmering pan of water prepared for its ingredients, and couldn't have known that her time would be different.

That was when she realised. She might not have seen much more of Dom Afonso's method, but she'd run plenty of his baths, and thus far the process was exactly the same. Oddly, even the temperature was similar. Her master always liked the water hot, one or two degrees short of scalding; just shy of the point where skin blisters and peels, as they knew well from their experiments. As a result, he was left with a perpetual sheen, the ruby countenance of a broiled lobster tail, glistening as if the water had been baked into his skin. He claimed that it kept him sanitised, boiling off his own essence so that it didn't leach into his work. Margarida wondered where that essence went.

She was charged with disposing of the water, too. With that in mind, she wondered if there was some other way of gaining his wisdom; to practice what he practiced, as he refused to preach, and see whether this first step in the process was enough - and, if not, even the slightest taste of his secrets might reveal the next. Margarida lacked the skill to separate the traces left behind, and the supernatant would no doubt also include his advanced age, his selfishness, his vanity. But that was no matter. Without the palate to discern, she would simply have to drink the lot.

If that didn't work... well, this was no time for half-measures, having hungered for months for what seemed rightfully hers. Margarida had often considered, watching the steam rise off of the water, that - were Dom Afonso to remain in the tub for too long, with the heat continually maintained - her mentor might eventually reduce into a particularly gamey stew. She wondered at its flavour, and its essence. The craft was everything to the man, and his body would surely be imbued with that lifelong vocation, one which she had coveted in vain for herself.

It might be kinder to kill him first, of course - but that might taint the result. That had been one of the few things he'd taught her, with the infant this morning being one example; live subjects were better, although it sometimes took the tongs to hold them steady for the course. He'd also shown her the virtue of ruthlessness: the insects, larks and hatchlings stripped for parts on his command, as her own soul grew calloused in the pursuit of his excellence. Two lessons, which would hold her in good stead for the experiments to come. It was just a shame he hadn't thought to teach her any more.