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cannacrunch · 1 year ago

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Exploring the Culinary World of Cannabis: Cannabis-Infused Edible Products

Cannabis has come a long way from being just a smoking substance. In recent years, there has been a surge in the popularity of cannabis-infused edible products. These delectable treats offer a discreet and enjoyable way to consume cannabis, providing an alternative to traditional smoking methods. From brownies and cookies to gummies and beverages, the variety of options available is vast, catering to diverse tastes and preferences.

The Rise of Cannabis-Infused Edibles: A Growing Trend

The trend of cannabis-infused edibles has gained momentum due to several factors. One key factor is the changing attitudes towards cannabis, with more states legalizing its recreational and medicinal use. This shift has paved the way for innovative culinary creations that incorporate cannabis extracts, providing users with a convenient and enjoyable way to experience the benefits of the plant. The precise dosing in edibles also appeals to those who prefer a controlled and measured cannabis experience.

Diverse Range of Cannabis-Infused Edible Products

Cannabis-infused edible products span a broad spectrum, offering something for every palate. From sweet to savoury, there are options to satisfy various taste preferences. Popular choices include brownies and cookies, classic staples in the world of cannabis edibles. For those with a sweet tooth, gummies and chocolates infused with cannabis extract provide a delicious and discreet option. Additionally, the market boasts savoury options like cannabis-infused olive oils and cooking sauces, enabling consumers to incorporate cannabis into their home-cooked meals.

The Science behind Cannabis-Infused Edibles: Understanding the Process

The process of creating cannabis-infused edibles involves precision and expertise. Cannabis extracts, such as THC or CBD, are carefully infused into the edible product, ensuring an even distribution of cannabinoids. This process requires specialized knowledge to achieve consistent potency and avoid the risk of overconsumption. Manufacturers use various techniques, such as decarboxylation, to activate the cannabinoids in the raw cannabis material, unlocking their therapeutic and psychoactive potential.

Cannabis-Infused Edibles for Sale: Navigating the Market

As the demand for cannabis-infused edibles continues to grow, consumers can find an array of products available for purchase. It is essential, however, to be discerning when navigating the market. Look for reputable brands that prioritize quality and transparency in their manufacturing processes. Check product labels for information on cannabinoid content, recommended serving sizes, and potential allergens. Responsible consumption is crucial, and understanding the potency of the product will help users have a positive and enjoyable experience.

Exploring the Benefits: Why Choose Cannabis-Infused Edibles?

Consumers opt for cannabis-infused edibles for sale for various reasons. One of the primary advantages is the discreet nature of consumption, allowing users to enjoy the effects without drawing attention. The onset of effects is typically slower than with smoking, providing a gradual and longer-lasting experience. This can be particularly appealing for those seeking sustained relief from symptoms or simply looking to unwind. Moreover, the precise dosing in edibles allows for better control over the amount of cannabis consumed, minimizing the risk of overindulgence.

Conclusion:

In conclusion, the world of cannabis-infused edibles offers a diverse and exciting array of options for both recreational and medicinal users. From classic treats to gourmet delights, the culinary possibilities are expanding. For those looking to explore and purchase high-quality cannabis-infused edibles, cannacrunch.net stands out as a reliable source. With a commitment to quality and a wide selection of products, they provide a gateway to a world where cannabis and culinary creativity collide, offering a delectable and enjoyable way to experience the benefits of this versatile plant.

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#cannabis edible gummies for sale #online cannabis edibles for sale #packwoods x runtz disposable vape pen #shop sour patch watermelon candy #packwoods x runtz disposable vape 1000mg

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shtaras · 1 year ago

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youtube

#cooking #green asparagus #tomatoes #garlic bread #sour cream #pen #recipes #home cooking #chief keef #Youtube

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whatisanxietytome · 2 years ago

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🍉🍬

#adult colouring #mental health #colouring therapy #colourful #felt tip pen #creative process #sour patch kids #watermelon #sweets #own post

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loves0phelia · 4 months ago

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Casual

Summery: Casual things you and JJ did before starting to date.

Words: 2k

Warning: bad grammar

A/N: This is my first JJ fic hope you like it

Rumours about the annual beach bonfire had been heard all week, the one night where Kooks and Pogues set aside their differences and partied in peace.

Initially, you’d planned to skip it—staying home with a good movie sounded way more appealing than hanging out with half of the outer banks on the beach. But when a classmate invited you, and your parents chimed in, insisting it would be a great way to make new friends, you found yourself agreeing to go.

The fire crackled softly, casting a warm glow over the sand as laughter and chatter echoed around you. You found yourself sitting on a wooden log, idly watching the orange flames dance.

Your train of thought was interrupted when a blond boy dropped beside you, his sudden presence snapped you back to reality. You glanced over, surprised, as he settled in with a casual smile.

“I haven't seen you around here before” his body was turned completely to you, giving you his entire attention.

"I just moved here a couple of months ago…" you said, feeling a bit shy as you glanced at his deep blue eyes.

JJ hummed and then noticed the small stash of candy in your lap, carefully guarded under your arm.

"What's that?" he asked.

You hugged the candy closer, "Candies, I didn't know if there was gonna be any snacks here so… I brought my own" You shrugged.

“Can I have one?” he grinned mischievously.

“I only have my favourite left” You looked down at the nearly empty box of Sour Patch Kids.

"Come on, just one. Sharing is caring, you know?" JJ chuckled, leaning a little closer, his arm brushing yours. He reached out, but you swatted his hand away, giggling.

But JJ was quick—faster than you expected. With a winning grin, he managed to snatch a piece from the carton box in your lap, popping it in his mouth before you could protest.

“Hey!” you exclaimed, half-annoyed, half-amused.

“I'll see you around sweets” After that he walked away still savoring your candy.

“what the hell” you muttered under your breath, you had not expected your night to end with a candy thief.

It was a typical evening at the local seafood shack, and you were rushing between tables, balancing trays of oysters and fried shrimp baskets.

"Well, look who’s working hard," JJ drawled, flashing his usual grin.

You turned around, surprised to see the thief from the other night leaning casually against the counter. The last person you expected to see at your job, but somehow not a surprise at all. He tossed you a wink as you grabbed your notepad and pen.

“Candy thief,” you said, arching an eyebrow.

“That’s me,” JJ replied, laughing. “Pretty sure I’ve got an order under the name JJ Maybank.”

“Finally, I can put a name to that face.” You rolled your eyes playfully, turning to grab the brown bag labelled JJ Maybank, filled with fish tacos and crawfish. As you handed it over, you asked, “Anything else with that order?”

He leaned in, flashing that signature smirk. “Yeah, I’ll also take your number if it’s on the menu.”

You felt a blush creeping up but managed a smirk. “Bold request for a thief.”

JJ shrugged, still grinning. “I thought it was the special tonight. It's written on the window” You glanced at the window where the words “chefs special monday-friday” reflect back to you.

“I thought a sweet like you was the chef's special, my bad” he added only worsening the state of your red cheeks.

After a pause, you scribbled your number on a napkin and slipped it into his bag. “Consider it one-time only.”

JJ’s eyes lit up as he took the bag. “Perfect. I’ll call you, then I'm gonna take you out somewhere that doesn’t smell like shrimp!" He yelled across the restaurant and disappeared behind the doors leaving you with a bunch of customers staring directly at your flushed face.

It was nearly midnight when you heard the faint, familiar tapping on your window. Smiling to yourself, you tiptoed over and pulled it open, revealing JJ’s face. He climbed in with ease, careful not to make a sound, and you couldn’t help but stifle a laugh as he landed lightly on your bedroom floor.

“Hey,” you whispered, watching him recover from his fall quickly and proceed to settle on your bed.

“Make yourself at home” You laughed and followed after him under the cozy and soft blankets.

JJ wrapped an arm around you, pulling you close as you both lay back. The quiet murmur of the movie playing on your TV plays in the background, but all you can really focus on is the warmth of his presence. You’d only known each other for a couple of months, yet moments like this already felt like second nature.

After a while, JJ sighed a hint of playfulness in his voice. “You know, it just hit me… I haven’t even taken you on the date I promised the first time I saw you at your work yet.”

You turned to him, amused. “I forgot about that. So where would you take me, then?”

He thought for a second, his eyes lighting up. “I was thinking we could go stargazing, just you, me, and a bunch of candy. What do you think about that, sweets?”

Your heart fluttered at the nickname, he's been calling you that since day one but the butterflies never fail to flutter and you smiled, feeling a little bashful. “That actually sounds perfect.”

JJ’s face softened as he brushed a stray hair from your face. “Good.” He leaned in and pressed a soft kiss to your forehead, and you nestled into him, many would say you were a couple but nothing was official yet.

JJ was stretched out on your bed, casually tossing a piece of candy up and catching it in his mouth, while you looked through dresses in your closet Kiara had invited you to Midsummers—something you never thought you’d actually attend, given how much of a Kook affair it was. But after some convincing from her, you decided to give it a shot. Now, the only thing left was choosing a dress, and naturally, JJ had found himself roped into being your fashion advisor for the night.

“Alright, what do you think of this one?” you asked, walking out of your closet in a dress to show him. It was a soft, flowy, baby blue, with delicate lace along the sleeves.

JJ, mid-candy toss, froze, the small piece landing unceremoniously on his chest as he sat up.

“Wait… you’re actually wearing that?” he asked, blinking as if he needed to make sure he’d seen it right. “That has to be like a 100 bucks”

“Kiara said I should try something fancy, and I found it at the thrift store… I don’t know, I thought it was cute.”

JJ nodded, still staring at you as if he couldn’t look away. His usual air of easy confidence had completely vanished, and he just sat there, a little pink creeping up his cheeks.

“Yeah, uh… fancy. Right,” he murmured, his voice unusually soft. For a moment, he seemed completely at a loss for words, a rare sight when it came to JJ Maybank.

“You don’t like it?” you asked, feeling a hint of embarrassment creep in as he continued to look at you in silence.

He shook his head quickly, snapping back to attention. “No, no—I mean, I like it. I just… I mean, you’re already beautiful and all, but in that?” He let out a soft whistle, rubbing the back of his neck. “You’re, like, the most stunning person, there’s no denying it.”

You felt warmth rise in your cheeks, his words catching you off guard. JJ wasn’t one to give out compliments like that, and hearing him say it made your heart skip a beat.

“So you like it, huh?” you asked, teasing him a little as you nudged his shoulder.

“Sweets, I don’t think anyone’s ready for how good you’re gonna look. And I, for one, am officially honoured to be the first to see it.” He gave you a look that was half-amused, half-awestruck.

“Alright, then,” you said, smiling as you looked down at yourself. “Guess that means I’m wearing it.”

JJ leaned back, his grin widening.

“Good call. Just so you know, though, I’m calling dibs on the first dance.”

You chuckled, rolling your eyes. “Oh, you are?”

“Absolutely,” he replied, winking. “Wouldn’t miss it for the world. Besides, I have to make sure one of those Kooks doesn't try to sweep you off your feet 'cause that's my job.”

It was warm outside the night of midsummer, the soft hum of laughter and chatter filled the air. You were standing by the snack table, chatting with one of the guests— a boy dressed with a fancy tuxedo, you had no interest in.

As you fake laughed at a joke he made, you felt a gaze burning into the back of your neck. You glanced over your shoulder and saw JJ standing by the door leading inside the house, his arms crossed, a tight frown on his face. There was a look in his eyes—something dark, almost possessive—that made your stomach flip. He wasn’t happy about something.

You turned back to the guest, unaware of the growing tension simmering behind you. It wasn’t until you felt a light tap on your shoulder that made you turned to see JJ standing right behind you now inches away, a forced smile on his face.

“Hey, mind if I steal you away for a second?” he asked, his voice a little too bitter for your liking.

You raised an eyebrow, a playful grin tugging at your lips. “Steal me away? What’s going on?”

JJ’s gaze flickered to the guest you’d been speaking with, then back to you. The jealousy was barely concealed, but it was there. “I need to talk to you. In private.”

Before you could protest, he gently guided you away from the boy, leading you through the house and into the backyard. The garden, draped in the soft glow of fairy lights, felt like a world apart from the party in front of the house. You walked slowly, and when you reached the center of the garden, JJ stopped.

“What’s up JJ?” You asked concerned.

“I hate seeing you with him,” JJ said, his voice barely above a whisper. He was standing too close, his gaze fixed on you with a burning intensity. “I don’t know why, but it drives me crazy”

You blinked, caught off guard. “What do you mean? We were just having a conversation.”

He shook his head, the muscles in his jaw tightening. “It’s not just that. It’s… it’s the way you make me feel. I can’t stand it anymore, pretending like we're just friends”

You stared at him, realizing what he was trying to say. The way his eyes softened, the way his voice shook with vulnerability and emotion.

“I—JJ, what are you saying?”

His hands cupped your face gently. “I’m saying that I love you. I’ve loved you for so long, and I’m tired of watching you be close to some other people without them knowing you're mine”

Before you could respond, he closed the distance between you, his lips crashing into yours. It wasn’t gentle. It wasn’t slow. It was desperate, full of the passion and longing that had built up between you over the months. His hands tangled in your hair, pulling you closer as if he never wanted to let you go.

You kissed him back, your heart racing, the entire world fading away until it was just the two of you, wrapped in each other’s arms.

“I love you, sweets”

“I love you too JJ, it was about damn time you say it” he smiled against your lips and pressed another kiss after another on your pink swollen lips.

#jj maybank x y/n #jj maybank x reader #jj maybank angst #jj maybank fluff #jj maybank #jj maybank x pogue!reader #jj mayback x reader #jj mayback imagine #outer banks fanfiction #outerbanks

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beloveds-embrace · 20 days ago

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(dukedom au, but you are gone for a week cue four men yearning)

The estate feels terribly empty without you.

At first, John tells himself it is only because the house is large and his duties are many. It is a fine excuse- an easy one. He can pretend, for a little while, that his mood is not soured by the absence of your voice at breakfast, by the fact that your perfume no longer lingers in the halls, by the cold, empty side of the bed where you normally sleep.

A week. A mere week, and yet John feels as though you have been gone an eternity.

The others are no better.

Johnny, usually so full of mirth, lingers in the kitchen longer than necessary, creating dish after dish that no one eats. He sets out a plate for you at every meal, stares at it as if willing you to appear. Sometimes, in a fit of frustration, he abandons the dining table entirely and takes his meals in the kitchen, where the staff quietly shuffle around him, their own hearts aching for the absence of their beloved duchess.

Kyle keeps himself busy, burying himself in the estate’s affairs. He goes over reports he has already read twice over, polishes the silverware himself when he thinks no one is looking. John finds him in your sitting room one evening, carefully dusting the spines of your books, though that is hardly his duty.

And Simon, ever so composed, ever so unreadable, is perhaps the worst of them all. He disappears for hours at a time, taking long, aimless rides through the countryside, returning only when the moon has risen high in the sky. He never says where he goes, and no one dares ask, but John knows it is longing that chases him from the estate. When he is not riding, he is haunting your parlor, sitting in your chair by the fire, fingers tracing over the embroidery of the cushion you had so painstakingly stitched by hand.

John had thought himself a patient man. He had been patient when you were wed, when you were shy and uncertain in his home. He had been patient when you discovered his lovers, when you had laughed instead of recoiled, when you had slowly, slowly, let yourself be drawn into their warmth.

But this- this absence of you-

John is not patient now.

He receives your letters, of course. Short, sweet things, penned in your careful hand. You speak of your relative’s health, of the weather, of how you miss the estate and the men who reside in it. You ask if Simon is eating properly, if Kyle is getting enough sleep, if Johnny is not overworking himself. And John- you ask of him too.

I dream of you, my love. I think of you often. Of all of you. Do you think of me?

John exhales, rubbing a hand over his beard as he stares at the parchment. He is sitting at his desk, the candlelight flickering, casting long shadows over the room.

Do you even need to ask?

He folds the letter carefully, setting it atop the others in his drawer. The mere thought of you dreaming of him makes his body ache in ways he cannot put to words, even as he pens a reply for you. He does not mention how empty and lifeless the the estate is without you- you must be worried already by your relative’s health and tired still from the long journey. He can’t put more on your plate.

Though, he hates how the days pass slowly.

By nightfall, John sits alone in the drawing room, a fire crackling low in the hearth, but the seat beside him is empty. Your embroidery frame remains untouched. He glances at it, at the last piece you had been working on- a delicate bloom of violets, only half-finished- and finds himself running a finger over the fine thread.

“Ridiculous.” He mutters under his breath. And yet, he does not move from his place, staring into the fire as if waiting for the sound of your footsteps.

In the kitchen, Johnny kneads dough with more force than necessary, his arms sore from the effort. He does not complain, but his movements are sharp, restless.

Johnny knew he would miss you. He had expected it, had braced for it when he kissed your cheek in parting and told you to travel safely. But knowing it and feeling it are two different things.

The kitchen is too still. He finds himself setting out two teacups in the morning instead of one, expecting to hear your soft voice asking what was for breakfast. He catches himself reaching for the honey you like, only to stop halfway and set it back down with a sigh.

He spends more time than usual baking, filling the kitchen with scents of warm bread, sweet pastries, things you love. The staff enjoy it, of course, but they aren’t you. They don’t smile at him with that particular look in their eyes, don’t sneak tastes of jam off the spoon when they think he isn’t looking.

On the fourth evening without you, Johnny sits at the long dining table, his hands folded in front of him as he stared at the empty chair where you usually sat.

“I should’ve gone with her.” He mutters, drumming his fingers against the polished wood.

“You wouldn’t have been allowed,” Kyle replies, leaning against the doorway with his arms crossed. “She wouldn’t let you drop everything just to follow her like a lost pup.”

Johnny huffs, but he doesn’t argue.

Kyle, ever dutiful, remains composed, but there is an air of unease about him. The routine of the estate is well-kept, yet something is missing. Someone is missing. He finds himself checking the front gates more often than usual, as if expecting your carriage to appear earlier than usual.

Kyle keeps himself busy. He always did, and this week is no exception. The house still needs running, duties still need tending. But even as he works, he feels the weight of your absence like a missing piece of a puzzle.

He notices it in the small things. The way the household staff move, more subdued, missing the warmth you carried into every room. The way the evening routine feels… off. You had a habit of lingering in the hallways after supper, speaking softly with the maids, the footmen, offering a kind word or a knowing glance when someone needed it.

Without you, the house feels colder.

Kyle does not sigh or linger by windows, does not wallow the way Johnny or John do. But on the fifth day, when he enters the library to set fresh candles, he pauses by your reading chair. One of your books lays open, a silk ribbon marking your place. He reaches for it, smoothing a hand over the page before exhaling slowly and setting it back down.

That night, he locked the doors a little later than usual, waiting- just a little longer- for the sound of your return.

Simon, meanwhile, says nothing. He does not pine aloud, nor does he linger like the others. And yet, there is no denying that your absence gnawed at him.

He had been the last to fall for you, the last to let you into his heart. He thought himself made of colder things, of old scars and solitude, yet you had settled into his life as if you had always belonged.

And now, you were gone.

Simon finds himself drawn to your rooms, not stepping inside, but lingering just outside the threshold. He will not enter without you there. But he stands in the hallway sometimes, late at night when even the candles had burned low, and simply… listens.

There is no sound beyond the distant hoot of an owl. No soft breathing, no rustle of your gown as you move through the rooms.

He closes his eyes.

“Come home soon, Duchess.” He murmurs, voice lost to the empty halls.

The estate is not whole without you.

By the seventh day, they are restless.

John stands at the front of the house, hands clasped behind his back as he stares down the road. Johnny hovers in the entrance hall, pacing. Kyle has ensured everything is perfectly arranged for your return. Simon has taken to standing in the courtyard, watching the horizon.

And then- at last- the distant rumble of carriage wheels.

They do not rush, do not appear desperate, but the moment your carriage comes into view, relief ripples through them.

The door opens. You step out, your gaze sweeping over them- soft, surprised at the intensity of their presence. And then you smile, and it is as if the week of longing melts away in an instant.

John steps forward first, taking your gloved hand and kissing it, but his grip lingers. Johnny barely restrains himself from pulling you into an embrace. Kyle exhales, tension easing from his shoulders. Simon says nothing, but the way he looks at you speaks volumes.

“You’re home, Duchess.” John murmurs.

Your smile widens. “I am.”

And at last, the house is warm again.

Dukedom au masterlist

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evilvillain123456789 · 6 months ago

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i just timed my welbutrin kicking in with my sexual climax (reading "netorare," anime styled cuckolding storys) and hitting my high nic vape pen (warheads sour apple flavored ghost energy drink flavored) shortly before the moment of orgasm, as soon as the pleasure from my release waned i immeditaley ate several spoonfulls of butter (kerrygold), i do this every day before my peak productive hours... when the buzz wears off at around 3PM i put on loud, stimulating videos and eat cookies (tollhouse) and chicken tenders (tyson) until i pass out. When i wke up at 10PM i enjoy a few more hours of functionality before it's time to jerk off and pass out again at 3-4... this got me through my MD, it's getting me through my LCSW, and it will get me through the last year of LDS seminary (dropped out in 2019, my cohort was very judgemental and i felt shamed for eating too much butter)

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adelha-mathilde · 2 years ago

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Verne sits beside Adelha to hand her a can of what looks like an energy drink. Her smile one of warm mischief as Adelha takes a sip without even looking up from her book. Only to go rigid and cough up a storm as Verne smirks at her. The green haired vixen snickering as Adelha openly berates Verne in German.

#main verse #guest muse: Verne #Verne gave Addy a GHOST REDBERRY energy drink #which is sour patch kids flavored #// yes that is what the mun is drinking too #// and yes the pic is my art done in gel pen uwu

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shotmrmiller · 1 year ago

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extension to this

simon sits inside the vehicle he's rented right outside a quaint, little coffee shop. your last letter sits, folded and crinkled in his breast pocket, the very reason why he's even here.

there's nothing much to say to you, pen acquaintance. the semester's over in a week, which means that this will be the last you hear of me. i'd wish you luck in whatever task your superior assigns you, but i don't want to. adieu, british man. i won't miss your piss-poor humor and doctor's scribble. p.s. my eyes are permanently crossed from having to decipher every letter of yours.

unacceptable.

he pulls back his sleeve, looking down at the scuffed sports watch that adorns his inked wrist. 10:35 a.m. simon steps out of the car hastily, not even bothering to lock it. the chilly breeze nips at the tips of his ears as he jogs to the cafe door and holds it open.

for you.

"after you, love." his mancunian accent thicker than normal on his tongue. how pretty you are in person, almost a dream come true. you turn to thank him, and he watches your captivating eyes zero in on the glinting metal of his dog tags resting on the breadth of his chest. how quickly your grateful smile sours. he suddenly feels too hot, vision tunneling to your set brow and hardened gaze.

"right. thanks."

with a quick pace, you pass him by, your bag bumping into his thigh, yet you don't bother to look back. so brilliantly unapologetic. his pulse races as excitement thrums through his veins. simon is quick to follow, coming to stand directly behind you and your group of friends with his clenched hands in his pockets, pretending to read the drink menu above your head.

when you order, he grimaces behind his medical mask. all these endless choices for coffee, yet you choose to drink some blended ice mistake, with far too much whipped cream and imitation chocolate syrup poured on top. simon'll teach you to drink tea— preferably back in england where the leaves grow best.

he steps forward, around the vultures that surround you, and tells the barista that he'll pay for your drink. "just hers?" he asks.

"tha's wha' i said, innit?"

simon extends his hand to the barista, plastic between your fingers when you call out to him. "hey."

a mischievous grin tugs at the corners of his mouth as he turns to meet your gaze, unable to contain his amusement.

"what about my friends?" his dark eyes cut to their direction, before wandering back to you.

"wha' about 'em?" he goads.

he can practically see smoke furling from your mouth, a miasma of fury; tastes it in the air— a blend of salt and fire.

there you are. vicious little spitfire.

simon lets you bubble with indignation for a brief moment until he shifts his attention back to the person behind the counter, who's been watching the exchange with mild interest. "theirs too, then. since she asked me so nicely."

his chest rumbles with laughter upon hearing your irked hiss at his comment.

#call of duty #simon ghost riley #cod mwii #simon ghost riley x f reader #simon ghost riley x reader #simon riley x reader

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