#stirring shit as usual

[of-pale]

A meeting at the Vergil's headquarters:

[iheartmoons]

Real footage of me and @elayathenerd waiting for you to update the high school CaitVi fanfic (take ur time tho btw, this is just a joke :])

HELLO i'm sorry it was sorta late!!!!!! enjoy the next chapter though! <3

[asimplearchivist]

I’m sorry I haven’t been very active lately, the hormones have been a bitch and I am just. so tired. Hitting the point in the semester where I’m feeling a little choked with some bigger assignments coming up so I’m getting overwhelmed with the thought of trying to get ahead of all of it so I can at least have on weekend to play Veilguard (but even then I know I’ll have to deal with that bs naggy little voice in the back of my head that always guilt trips me for doing nonproductive things when I could be doing other stuff—maybe I’ll take breaks by swapping laundry and dishes loads or cooking or smth, that might help). Anyway yeah I feel like shit but we keep on trucking as always👍🏻🥲

[pleckthaniel]

I love receiving a passive-aggressive text message every time I use the only kitchen on this earth I have physical access to. I love having the options of 'put herculean effort into appearing not to exist' or 'be scolded daily for eating'

[lumiilys]

Allow me to be petty for 2 minutes 🙇

[sillyangstfic]

Funny reveal scenario: they turn it into a game.

So post-sentitwins becoming human/freed from amoks + no identities ever being revealed so far, Marinette perfected her anti-akuma charms and started distributing them to very temporary miraculous user. Realizing that keeping all of the miraculous in one place is too risky in case Hawkmoth finds out her identity, Marinette basically gives out all the miraculous to their users permanently.

Cue emotional reve between Adrien and Marinette with love confessions, fireworks, tears, yadda yadda you know the drill.

Onto the fun stuff: the other miraculous users are told that they all go to the same school or are related to people who go there and they basically make a scavenger hunt where the winner is the one who knows the most identities.

Cue side effect shenanigans:

Nino realizing that Adrien purrs. Alya noticing that Marinette is eating a shit ton more meat. Zoe and Chloe having a sudden taste for nectar. Juleka suddenly becomjg one of the most athletic students in the entire school. Juleka noticing her brother's new habit of swelling food whole. Kim and Nathaniel having competitions to see who's the best climber. The entire squad needing to DIY their hair products because it's all turning to furs and feathers. Kagami witnessing how Felix's wardrobe slowly becomes a rainbow. Nino, Kagami, Juleka, and Luka suddenly having a deep love of water and swimming. Have of the class going vegetarian or mostly carnivorous.

Just everybody doing the spiderman meme whenever the figure each other out.

All I can imagine is the extensive research and gaslighting that would go on

Nino looking real hard at Alya winning a game of tag by pouncing on someone with a hands first nosedive. Alya saying that’s just what it’s like having little sisters. Nino, who only has a little brother, can neither confirm nor deny, and Chloe refuses to give him a straight answer

Adrien in the middle of an article about peacock behavior when Felix enters the room wearing a mix of bright blues, purples, and pinks. He begins to suspect Felix has a crush on Luka

Chloe and Zoe clocking eachother immediately after catching eachother in the kitchen at 3 am to sneak in their bug food. They both maintain the stance that its perfectly normal to eat nectar, and actually it does wonders for the skin. Frankly, Kim, it’s rude you even asked

Max getting caught be Alix and Kim when he becomes faster than them

Juleka catching Luka trying to eat an egg whole, shell and all. He swears up and down its boiled. She asks if its his. You see Luka, hognose snakes will sometimes-

Kagami tells people the scales that keep appearing on her skin are a genetic condition from her father’s side

Rose starts to snort when she laughs, but no one catches on

Marc catches Nathaniel trying to eat his pencil, which he says is normal artist behavior, which Marinette firmly denies

Marinette pointing out Rose’s new laugh, Marc’s new hair feathers (which he had tried to hide under his hoodie), and Zoe’s tendency to be drawn to light to stir up even more chaos

[izzy-b-hands]

Challenge: Write three short but personalised holiday card messages to grandparents, aunt&uncle&cousins, and mum and her boyfriend-but-not (it's a mess.)

Level: IMPOSSIBLE

[catsnuggler]

>>see someone, in the comments section of a video that has nothing to do with Oceania, mention that they're from "New Zealand"

>>ask them if it's "hot all year-round in Aotearoa?"

We'll see if this person is a mad Pakēha or a reasonable person

[toomuchsky]

i hate cooking meat so much. what do u MEAN it's underseasoned i've never underseasoned something in my LIFE

[wavesoutbeingtossed]

.

[mex-sickos]

Not to ring my own rooster or anything but my esteemed father called tonight’s stir fry “based”

[freakish-hazzard]

Sat here on my fucking chair, where the fuck is all the goddamn carrion fanart when i need it bro- pleasasee brooooo pleaaaabsee

[sanchoyo]

after the vehicle hunt has been a big flop (the few vehicles I was interested in drove terribly on the test drives :( and car salesmen waaaay highballing cars worths which is. A crazy thing to do when I can literally look up the average worth of a car in 2 seconds??) after going to so so many websites and irl dealers. i found a van I really really love the look of and it’s only like an hour away!! (vintage van-rv combo!! Small enough to not be insane on gas while combining my many years long obsession with having a small rv-like thing AND my nostalgia for my now gone first van…)

And the thing is actually low priced for its type… but insanely out of my budget still 10,000 more than what I have. It’s insane how much vehicles cost. This thing is like 10 years older than I am and it still costs that much?? Wanting a thing really bad will have u googling shit like what body parts can I sell legally 💀

[weaselle]

it was too much i had to make my own post

line cook here. ACCURATE

if you don't get the hate, here's what you don't understand.

it takes up to 2 hours to close down the kitchen.

The last 60-90 minutes before closing time you do almost no cooking because the restaurant doesn't have many people in it and you've already cooked most of their diners.

So if someone walks in during, like, the last hour, the cook is in the middle of an industrial deep clean of the kitchen.

(these numbers can vary quite a bit from place to place but i have worked several restaurants with these actual times and the concept remains the same)

Say the place closes at 10. If you wait til the restaurant is already closed to start all your cleaning duties, you'll be there until at least midnight.

More than that your boss knows that on an average night you can start your clean up as soon as the last rush ends and get out of there around 10:45, even 10:15 on a slow night if you get lucky. That means there are plenty of restaurants where if you do take until midnight the manager is going to come up to you at some point that week and ask you what went wrong that night, and you'd better have an answer.

So this example restaurant closes at 10 pm. The dinner rush ends around 8:30, and shortly after that the cook is going to start getting every single dish possible over to the dishwasher because the dishwasher always gets hit hard and late, and the machine runs for 2 full minutes and only holds so many dishes, so the way that works out is if you wait an extra 30 minutes to give the dishwasher all your stuff it can mean adding like 60 minutes to the end of his shift. And you're gonna KEEP finding shit to send to the dishpit right up until you leave probably.

all these little square and rectangle containers in this cold table have to be pulled out and changed over into new containers, replaced by new full ones, or in some cases filled from larger containers in the back, which can result in even more empty containers to send to the dishwasher.

while it's all pulled apart to do this, you have to clean up all the spilled food and sauce and juices and stuff from the joints and ledges and shelves and drip trays

Once you get your line changed over in this way, and fully stocked, anytime someone orders something that makes use of a bunch of that stuff, you have to restock and re-clean it some. It might already be covered in plastic. Some of it might already be stuck in the back to make room to take apart your cutting board counter to clean. To cook a dish isn't TOO much of a problem at this point, but you're really hoping for zero orders because you still have so much other cleaning to do.

Meanwhile the salad bar and appetizer section and server station and everybody are all doing the same thing. Even the bartenders are stocking olives and lemons and sending back whisks and stir spoons and shakers and empty 4quart storage containers that used to hold the back-up lemons and olives and things. Every section is dumping their must-be-cleaneds to the dishpit as fast as possible because early and fast is the only thing they can do to to help that dishpit not absolutely drown into overtime.

The poor dishwasher is always the last to clock out, soaking wet and exhausted.

Around this time you probably scrub the flat top, which has turned black from cooked on grease and is still about 500 degrees. Line cooks are divided in opinion on water-based or oil based cleaning methods for this, but they all involve scrubbing with (usually) a brick of pumice stone using every ounce of your strength while you try not to burn yourself

you scrub it from fully blackened to gleaming silver and now if somebody orders something that needs the flat top to cook, you can either fuck up your cleaning job or fake it in a couple frying pans and pass that tiny fuck you down to your dishwasher (who usually understands, especially if you help them take the garbage out or clean your own floor drain later)

If there's deep fried stuff on the menu then the fryers have to be cleaned out, which includes straining the oil out into enormous and super-heavy pots full of oil so hot that if you spill on yourself then it's probably a hospital visit and if you slip and fall face first into it it'll be the last thing you ever do.

Then you gotta scrub out the fryer. Like you gotta take the (hot) screen out and reach your arm down into the weird rounded pipes and curved areas (so hot, burn you if you brush against them hot) and scrub off whatever is down there

Depending on your kitchen you might have to do up to four of these. Then you'll have to pour the (dangerously hot) oil back in

oh, and if you didn't dry the pipes and get ALL the water out of the trap and tank?

water reacts with hot oil in a sort of mentos and coke way that can send a tidal wave of oil past the open flame of the pilot light ...HUGE dangerous mess and/or burn down the kitchen if the oil lights up.

Unless! If the oil has been used too hard and needs to be changed, it's time to carry those open topped super heavy pots full of will-kill-you-hot oil and dump them in the barrel outside by the dumpsters so you can put room temp fresh oil in the fryers. whew!

The clean up is not just some light wiping down that can be easily interrupted, is what i'm saying.

You might have to do some kind of walk-in duty (moving around 50lb cases of lettuce and 50lb bags of onions to get to the stacks of five gallon buckets full of salad dressings and sauces to move so you can reach the giant metal pots and bus tubs full of prep and get it all organized and make sure it's all labeled and i have to stop now i'm having flashbacks)

THE POINT IS

by 15 or however many minutes to close, the line cook is doing an intense deep clean and probably has the whole stove taken apart to detail.

For some industrial stoves this means lifting off large cast iron plates that weigh like 20 lbs each and are still quite hot. Whatever metal burners are on there, you gotta take off and clean, you can see here the lines that indicate the large thick cast iron rectangles that sit on top of the burners to allow heavy pots to rest on. Those five (each has one front burner hole and one back burner hole, see?) have to be lifted off and cleaned with soap and a wire brush usually, and then the underneath area also has to be cleaned because a lot of shit falls through the burner holes on a busy night.

if you didn't do it when you did the flat top you have to do the grease trap (which can be like a full five minutes and is always disgusting).. You gotta clean out all the little gas jets in each burner with a wire or something so the burners all flame evenly, and sometimes you have to remove some of the natural gas piping that connects the burners to access where you have to clean.

you gotta clean out the bottom of the oven and the wire racks, and, oh gods, you gotta take down the filter vents from the hood fans above the stove.

See all the lined parts along the top of the wall?

those are hood vents, and as they pull air up they also pull a lot of grease and they have to be taken down and cleaned, then you gotta climb up there and scrub where they go before you put them back...

And then there's the mopping and floor drains and...

Anyway, that's what the line cook is doing when you walk in fifteen minutes before closing and order something that needs to be cooked on that stove. They are doing an entire industrial cleaning of a professional kitchen.

In some restaurants maybe one or two of these jobs will be every other night or even only twice a week, but in many, possibly most kitchens, ALL of these things happen EVERY night. You don't want to leave any food mess that might attract insects or rodents for one thing, so a really good kitchen is as close to brand new as you can get it every night.

IF YOU ABSOLUTELY HAVE TO ORDER SOMETHING ANYWAY, HERE IS WHAT TO DO

open with an apology and ask the server to go ask what the cook would prefer you to order.

Any good server will already know what the cook is hoping for and what will make their line cook go into the walk in and scream. If it's significantly less than an hour to close and they say some variant of "oh anything is fine" they are either telling the lie their boss wants them to say, or they actually do not know what their line cook wants, and you can either use human connection and a conspiratorial just-between-us tone to get them to drop the customer-is-always-right act, or get them to actually go ask the cook.

It might be as specific as "the lasagna is easiest on the kitchen" or it might be a simple guideline like "nothing that requires the flat top" or "any of the sautés are easy" but a good line cook will probably have a system for if they have to make a couple of the most popular items after they start their close, so the answer is likely to include something most people like and you should be good to order that.

but for the love of all that's holy, please only do so at great need. Leave that last 30-60 minutes to the truly desperate and the crew's duties.

[rafey-baby]

older!rafe can’t always be mean to his delicate flower, can he?

c/w: fluff with a little bit of angst in the beginning, rafe feeding sensitive!reader pasta, slight subspace, smut: oral (f receiving), overstimulation, use of daddy & dad, 18+ mdni!

wc: 2k

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

Sock-covered feet pad along the hardwood floors when she finally hears the lock of the front door turning. Rafe’s home later than usual— a fact she’s entirely too aware of since she’s been impatiently waiting for him to return ever since he left her this morning without so much as a goodbye.  

Usually, she’d stir awake to him smearing kisses all over her face and mumbling sweetened words about how much he’s going to miss her during his meetings— sometimes even wake her up with his cock prodding at her entrance before fucking her all sleepy and sloppy until she’s a sobbing mess.   

However, she assumes he was still mad at her because she forgot to let him know she was going out for drinks after her lecture before her battery had died. Therefore, she hadn’t received his several calls or the texts filled with concern and only a few hours later, did she remember that she’d never actually sent the message regarding her whereabouts.  

When he came to pick her up after she’d borrowed her friend’s phone in order to reach him, he was clearly displeased; merely muttering out a “ask you to do one thing and you can’t even do that. You know how fuckin’ worried I was?” and crudely telling her to go sleep in the guest room because “daddy doesn’t feel like dealing with your shit tonight”, which had resulted in wet droplets surfacing to her waterline while she kept apologizing over and over again, but to no avail.   

In the morning, she’d woken up to a tear-stained pillowcase and a headache. And when she tiptoed over to the bathroom, she realized that the entire house was desolate; he hadn’t even left a note.   

Therefore, she’s not exactly sure how to approach him, hesitant in her movements before she sees him in front of her in all his glory.   

“Hi,” her voice is quiet, but her forlorn face lights up nonetheless. 

Rafe is in the process of mindlessly kicking off his shoes when he looks up; a tired smile tugging at his lips when she practically tumbles into his arms in a greeting.  

“Missed you,” she mumbles against his crisp button up when he rests his big hands on her hips in an attempt to steady her.   

“Missed you too,” he murmurs into her hair. “Got you somethin’,” he reluctantly pulls away in order to present her with a bouquet of pink lilies; her favorites.  

“What’s this for?” her moony eyes stare up at him in bewilderment.  

“Drove past a flower shop…guess they made me think of you,” he admits, pressing a soft kiss to her cheek; confusing her to no end.  

“But I thought—” she utters out, hesitant to take the flowers she feels unworthy of.   

“That I was mad at you?”   

She nods, looking up at him with guilt swimming in her eyes.  

He lets out a sigh.  

“Listen, I was, uh, maybe a little too harsh on you last night, okay? I know how forgetful you can be. Was just worried when you weren’t home and didn’t answer your phone until hours later. Thought somethin’ happened, you know?” he explains with a calmness that placates her racing mind as she accepts his gift.   

“I know, m’sorry. Won’t happen again, promise. Texted you today the second I was home, right?”   

“You did,” he confirms as he peels off his suit jacket before sniffing the air. “Smells good, what’re you making?”   

“Oh, I made you dinner,” she says bashfully, almost as if waiting for his approval.  

“You did? All by yourself?” his brows climb his forehead in surprise.   

She nods, a soft smile on her lips before he’s ushering her towards the kitchen and plucking a glass vase from the top shelf for her. 

Usually, he’s the one cooking for them since she’s not greatest in the kitchen, always so tired after studying the whole day, she’d probably forget the stove on and cause some sort of a fire due to her absentminded nature. Therefore, he prefers to prepare his girl a nurturing meal whenever he doesn’t have to work late.   

“How was uni today?” he asks as she sets the now flower-filled vase on their dining table.  

“A lot. Was kinda stressed the whole day cause I have so much homework and reading to do, don’t know how I’m supposed to have time for all of it. And then have this group project and the deadline for this essay approaching and…I don’t think my brain works anymore,” she sighs out when she peers down at the steaming bowl of spaghetti Bolognese he places on the counter.   

“Good thing you don’t need to worry that head of yours over anythin’ with me. Let dad do the thinking for you, yeah?” Rafe’s voice is as smooth as honey, causing her to blink up at him— something cottony dusting over her mind in response to his sugary cadence.   

Strong arms lift her up and place her on the marble countertop before he settles right between her thighs, like a puzzle piece she’s been missing the entire day; tall frame hovering over her even as she’s practically perched on a pedestal.   

Then, he’s picking up the plate in the most casual manner and contently shoving a forkful of pasta into his mouth before groaning in satisfaction.   

“Shit, this is amazin’,” he praises around the mouthful.   

She mumbles out a flustered thank you, her thoughts all over the place since she thought he’d still be mad, but then suddenly he’s not. In fact, he’s seemingly in a great mood.   

“Did you eat yet?”  

“No, was, um…waiting for you. Didn’t wanna eat alone,” her volume is nearly inaudible. 

He stops chewing.   

“Waitin’ for me, huh?” he rasps out before he’s lifting the fork closer to her mouth.   

She looks up at him, puzzled.   

“Open,” he orders and she has no choice but to obey— let him feed her because truthfully, whenever she’s around him she gets a little dumb; can’t really focus on anything except his low drawl and gemstone eyes.   

“Good, right?”  

She hums her agreement around the bite, barely registering that some of the tomato sauce stains her chin in the process.   

“Always so messy, huh?” he tuts disapprovingly, even if he’s the one holding the fork.   

However, before her mushy brain has the time to even comprehend what he’s doing, he’s laving the flat of his tongue under her mouth; cleaning it up for her.   

“There we go,” he murmurs as he rubs a thumb over the spot for good measure.   

She swallows.   

“Want some water?” he asks and she nods, all of a sudden unable to utter out words.  

Then, he’s tipping a glass of ice-cold water to her lips, carefully watching her gulp down the liquid before he decides she’s had enough— withdrawing the cup in order to drink some of it himself.    

He continues feeding her every other bite and making casual conversation, all the while she feels herself softly slipping into a very specific headspace. And before she realizes, he’s placing the empty dish in the sink with a slight clatter; their bellies full and happy.    

She doesn’t think she wants to eat by herself ever again.  

Then, her foggy mind registers him in front of her again as he pulls her closer— warm palms slipping under her top and his thumbs idly smoothing over her tummy while she quietly stares at him with hearts for eyes.  

“You put this tiny thing on just for me, hm?” he questions as his eyes drop down to her cleavage; the pale pink lace doing a very poor job of concealing what’s underneath since she’s forgone a bra (and pants), as she usually does whenever she’s merely loitering around their home.  

“Look so pretty in this,” his dreamy voice rumbles as he swipes a thumb over a covered nipple, causing her to let out a faint gasp at the sudden contact.  

“Ray…” she hums out while he keeps rubbing over the squishy part of her body he knows gets her buzzing.  

“Hm? You feelin’ floaty already?” he asks with a gentle cadence. And she’s not sure how he always seems to know just the right words to say in order to turn her into clay.   

“Yeah, missed you so much,” her hazy eyes flicker over his face while he simply gazes at her, before he’s smearing his mouth on hers.   

There’s something hungry, primal in the way he groans against her lips— causing a whimper to escape her throat in response.  

Then, all of a sudden, he’s lifting her over his shoulder as if she weighs nothing more than a single paperclip; making her squeak out a sound of surprise when he jokingly smacks her ass while walking out of the room before throwing her on the bed.   

“Let daddy say hi to his favorite girl, yeah?” he coaxes her before he’s prying her thighs apart and nuzzling his face into her cunt through the material of her panties; nose bumping against her clit, making her shift closer to him.  

“Missed my pussy so much, you know? Wanted to fuck you nice ’n slow last night but you never came home.”   

“M’sorry, daddy,” she can’t help but whimper out when his warm tongue licks over the already dampening fabric of her underwear.   

“Yeah? You gon’ make it up to me? Let me eat you ’till I forgive you?”  

“Yeah, yeah. Whatever you want,” she blabbers, a whine leaving her vocal cords when he plucks the soaked through material to the side and blowson her sensitive cunt.   

“Shit, you’re so wet already,” he says in awe, letting spit drip down his tongue and onto her folds anyway. Then, he’s wrapping his lips around her clit, making her cry out because she can already feel her orgasm lingering underneath the surface.  

“Need to come, can I? Please m’gonna— ” she says, almost in a trance; already so wound up. And the way he’s practically torturing her achy button with his mouth isn’t really helping.  

After he’s hummed his agreement, she’s not able to hold it in any longer— his tongue poking at her opening when the knot in her belly unfolds. She’s shaking, thighs yearning to close, if not for his strong arms holding them open as he groans around her, seemingly lost in a daze with her taste and smell practically suffocating him.  

Since he knows how insatiable she tends to be, he refuses to pull away from between her thighs. And two more orgasms later, she’s a whimpering muddle; desperately trying to drag her hips away from his unrelenting hold. However, he’s entirely too strong and she doesn’t stand a chance. 

“Ray, s’too much, need a break—” she complains, eyes beginning to turn watery in response to the overwhelming pressure.  

However, despite her protests, he doesn’t stop. Instead, he begins to mess with her entirely too sensitive clit with his fingers now— pressing and pulling and making her whine as tears trickle down her cheeks and she tries to fruitlessly wiggle away from him once more.    

“Nah, you’re good, dad wants you to give him a few more, think you can do that?” he mumbles against her sticky folds, stuffing the tip of his tongue into her weepy hole as an effort to persuade her.  

“I don’t know if I can—”  

“Shh, jus’ wanna make you feel nice, you don’t want me to?” he feigns hurt when he lifts up his head, beginning to mouth over the soft skin of her inner thighs to pacify her; his slight stubble tickling her in the process and making her twitch.  

“No, I do, I do…”   

“Then quit whinin’ and let me take care of you, hm? Show you how much I love you,” he coaxes her to give in. And when he puts it like that, she thinks it does sound rather romantic. 

[phagodyke]

being soooo good at cooking for myself recently anyway I made shakshuka today <3