#the yolk is REALLY THICK

[kedreeva]

Do you eat peahen eggs? If yes, what do they taste like?

My wife raises geese and their eggs are huge, 3x the size of a hen’s eggs, and are generally fluffier and delicately sweeter.

I do! They taste like an egg.

I'm not allowed to answer anything more, apparently

[sirfrogsworth]

My egg gadget journey.

Since I started learning to cook eggs in a pan I have been trying to solve various problems in my usual way... buying gadgets.

Because I love gadgets.

My first problem was that I wasn't happy with my whisking. I didn't feel like I was getting the egg whites and yolks fully incorporated. So I bought this fork whisker thingie.

It has little holes in the tines for optimum whisking!

Or so the Amazon page said.

I thought it would be the size of a normal fork. But in reality, it was gigantic and unwieldy.

I felt it was so large that it actually made it *harder* to whisk eggs.

So that has been retired to the drawer and has not seen the light of day since.

Then I was having trouble flipping my omelettes. So I got a special omelette flipper.

This helped a little, but it was too thick and I still had trouble getting it underneath.

Into the drawer it went with its whisking fork friend.

Then a follower suggested a different kind of omelette flipper.

These have a very thin edge and really get underneath the omelette well. This was my first big success in egg gadgetry. I was able to achieve my first successful fold using this.

Then I was becoming frustrated with egg cracking. I couldn't do it consistently. I tried on the side of the pan. I tried on the flat countertop. I was improving over time, but I still felt like a gadget could be helpful.

In my brain I was envisioning some electronic doodad that used A.I. cracking technology to perfectly open the egg.

But then I found this...

It's just a small dish with a raised edge in the middle. Just about the simplest solution imaginable. Doesn't even take batteries.

And it is fucking fantastic.

It's called the "Crack'em" and so I like to say "Release the Crack'em!" when I use it.

You do have to develop a technique, but once you get that down, it cracks eggs perfectly. And it gives you a nice clean section to pull apart the eggshell. And the yolk doesn't drip out as much before you are ready to release it.

Everyone should get a Crack'em.

I still wanted to solve my incorporation issue. I got better at whisking but I still felt like a gadget could improve things.

So I decided to go with the nuclear option.

This thing is nuts. For the low price I am really amazed at how solid and well-built it feels. And it fucking pulverizes the eggs into a perfectly homogenized substance where white and yolk no longer exist and you just have... egg.

Pure 10,000% incorporated egg.

And with this gadget I was able to increase my egg fluffiness by 20%. And my eggs were already pretty damn fluffy.

The egg pulverizer is also very easy to clean. You just run water and turn the blade and angle it so it doesn't spray you in the face. You will get sprayed in the face before you figure out that angle. So prepare yourself for that.

And that is my gadget journey so far.

I'm considering this weird flippy pan that would allow me to cook my omelettes evenly on both sides, but I am in a scrambled eggs era so I'm not sure I need that right now.

It also looks like I could easily yeet hot omelette juice into my face if I am not careful. So I might just stick to my traditional pan.

OH! And one non-gadget thing I learned.

If you have seen The Bear there was a scene where Sydney cooks an omelette and crunches potato chips on top.

And it works! Tastes great on scrambled eggs as well.

Potato chips, who would have thought?

[paper-mario-wiki]

PLEASE share the pancake recipe!!!

ingredients (eyeballed measurements, you can do this):

pancake mix (buttermilk mix bought from farmer Bob who has a corn maze outside of seattle)

milk

1 or 2 egg whites per serving (you can determine what that means, i trust your judgement)

i preheat my stove to a little over medium. like in the 5-7 range.

pour the milk into the buttermilk mix until it's like, as thick as a smoothie. it doesnt have to be perfectly smooth, and actually wouldn't benefit from it either.

crack an egg but open it upward so that the contents dont spill out. then, over the bowl, pour the yolk back and forth between the two pieces of shell. after a few times, the yolk will separate from the whites, which will fall out and into the bowl.

then you feed the yolk to Scarlet, my dog, with her breakfast kibble.

i whip the egg whites in a cereal bowl with a fork. the whole point of whipping the whites is to trap air in them, until they basically turn into a foam. keep that in mind while you're mixing, and try to trap air in the mixture. imagine you're a taffy puller. ya know, pulling taffy. same principle. use the arm you jerk off with, as it's probably stronger and has the same basic muscle memory for this task.

after they're nice n foamy, add them to the batter, but don't mix or whip it in. as much as you can, gently fold the two concoctions together. you don't wanna pop all those bubbles you just made.

i like to hold a stick of butter and draw all over the pan to coat it in a semi-generous amount of butter, which will make the skin super crispy as it sorta fries in it.

the old "wait until the bubbles on the back of the pancake pop to flip it" rule doesnt really work here, since the thing is basically gonna be bubbling and foaming and popping IMMEDIATELY, so INSTEAD:

wait until the batter is only 40% shiny on top, as a lot of the pancake is going to cook through very quick since the batter is basically a dense network of very thin bubble walls.

after flipping, give it about 70% of the time you gave it on the first side to properly finish up the bottom.

i suggest pairing with bacon and hashbrowns.

[e-r0da]

The gym.

Pro-hero Kirishima x Reader

AN: Posting this again. Got too embarrassed the first time around but fuck it we ball.

CW: NSFW, MDNI. Kiri is a yandere. Reader is afab and referred to with gn. Dub-con, praise, use of daddy/baby pet names, heavy-petting and fingering, oral, dacryphilia, and a smidge of impact-play and ass-play but it’s teeny tiny. Reader is developing Stockholm syndrome but they’re in denial.

Wc: 2.2k

“You want to use the gym? Why?”

“Well...I want to be strong—like you!”

Would he buy that?

You held your breath as Kirishima stopped shoveling food into his mouth, opting to chew slowly as he contemplated your words.

You had been working towards this—towards his trust—for months. Would you fail now?

Subconsciously your feet shift, pointing towards the kitchen door. Towards the escape. Not that it would do you any good if you really needed it.

He swallowed.

“You feeling insecure baby? Don’t get me wrong—“ you saw a bit of a blush bloom on his cheeks “—I love that you think I’m strong…but you don’t have to be.”

Huh.

You had told yourself you would stop immediately if he gave you a hard no…but this was harder to read. You don’t need to be strong like him…? Or you shouldn’t be?

You test the waters.

“I-it’s not that exactly. You know I used to go to the gym…before. I miss it. I miss being able to challenge myself.”

You had to choose your words wisely. This was about what you needed for yourself—not about anything he was failing to provide. Saying anything that even insinuated as much would hurt him, and that wouldn’t work.

In the beginning, when you still thought that you could forge a way out on your own, hurting him didn’t bother you. But now that you’ve realized that the only way out was through Kirishima, well. You were forced to come to terms with the fact that hurting him also made him more overbearing, less generous with your liberties.

So you squirmed in your seat, trying to read his silence before deciding to push harder.

You laced your plea with a bit of vulnerability, hoping that would make it ring true.

“I-uh.”

“Yeah?”

“And I guess some insecurity plays into it, too.”

He leans in. You lower your gaze.

The last part comes out as a whisper. “I mean...there’s nothing left to squeeze...down there…”

Jackpot.

Kirishima let out a hoarse chuckle at your confession. You mimicked him, but your laughter came out of relief. You did it.

“Baby! Baby. C’mere.”

He pulled his chair back, spreading thick thighs to make you a seat on his lap while you made your way over. As you straddle his legs, he starts preparing you a spoonful of the kimchi rice you two had made earlier. It’s covered in runny egg yolk as you like, the gooey softness hiding the spice beneath.

He tells you to open wide before he stuffs you with it.

“First of all, I think you have the cutest tush I’ve ever seen, baby. So don’t say that.”

It’s embarrassing the way he watches intently as you chew and try to nod, the way he wipes off a bit of yolk from the side of your mouth, the way he fusses over you.

But to an extent it also made your heart ache, remembering that it was the way he cared—and continues to do so—that made you initially fall for him.

“—plus, I meant what I said, ‘ya know? I’ll take care of you.” He draws you further into him, guiding your head into the crook of his neck, before sliding the hand between your shoulder blades and then down over the curve of your ass. Your heart stutters in your throat when he places a small peck over your earlobe and hums softly, just like he used to do when things were normal.

“So if that means exercise, hmm… We can go to the gym room starting tomorrow! Oh, and of course I can be your personal trainer and give you pointers…” You release a small whimper at the realization of your success. And maybe just a bit at the hand that was now wandering over your backside. Your mind flickered between that taste of freedom and his actions. It felt so good that you didn’t want to think about the way you embraced them both. He continued on. “…of course I’ll keep track of all your…growth so you don’t need to worry about a thing…and, well, there’s a lot of ways we can get cardio covered without going outside…”

He was working you. So well that you couldn’t help but arch your back, pushing further into his chest as he slowly slid his fingers up and down your clothed pussy before giving it the softest of slaps, jolting your attention back to the present. Back to the man that owns you. The man you were trying to bargain with.

You look up at him, warm cheeks evidence of his effect. His affection. He looks down at you and grins. It’s filled with sharp teeth, interlaced with a bit of hunger.

“I love you no matter what shape you’re in, though. So if you ever wanna stop you just tell me, okay?”

Sometimes you forget this is the same man that keeps you hostage.

“T-thank you, Eijirou. It—this—means a lot to me.” You almost surprise yourself with how genuine your response is. You reason that it’s probably because you had only been allowed into just three rooms—the bedroom, bathroom, and kitchen���until just now.

That has to be it right? Gratitude for the man that provides for you so well?

According to that logic it’s only fair, you think, to give him something in return for his generosity. So you nuzzle back into him, placing a chaste kiss in the crook of his neck before ghosting your lips over his ears, testing if he agrees. And the way he jolts beneath you feels like everything you need.

So you take it another step further and whisper for him, like a sin—like a confession.

“You’re so good to me, daddy.”

Just for tonight, you think.

Just for tonight he can be the man you loved again.

You’re rewarded by the feeling of him stiff, hot, and ready beneath you—then of his tongue, demanding and wet as he crashes into you from above with a kiss. He almost growls into your mouth.

“Good fucking girl.There she is.”

You feel yourself clench around nothing at his words, choosing to chase down the shame of your actions by committing fully. You don’t want to stop, not when it feels this euphoric.

Not when you’ve been this lonely.

How long has it been?

How long has it been since he's touched you like this, since he’s lifted your dress and stared at your bare form with such adoration, such heat?

Maybe there was a reason why it's been so long, but now is not the time to remember painful things.

His hands drift back down to your lower half, neglecting his own pleasure in favor of remembering the feeling of yours. When his fingers reach to feel your pussy once more, he groans when he can feel your wetness through your panties.

“Baby, oh baby fuck.”

The light at the end of the tunnel is further than ever before as you plead with him.

“Eijirou, oh—please, you need t—mh! Please touch me.”

Your consent is all he needs to be put into action, thick arms wrapping underneath you as he lifts you up and walks you both to the bedroom, dinner long forgotten. You wrap your hands in his hair, still damp from his shower, as you whine into his mouth.

No man has ever made you feel this needy.

He softly detaches from you to lay you down on your shared bed, watching your sprawled, breathless form with wild eyes. Somewhere in your haze he ties his hair back into a small bun.

“So fucking beautiful, baby. So fucking beautiful.”

He leans over your form, forearms caging you in as he kisses you again. The two of you shake at the feeling of his bulge making contact with your heat, and almost desperately he begins to grind down into you, as if trying to burn through the layers that separate you.

He watches the place where you both connect before releasing a shaky groan into your mouth.

Maybe you know that he’s missed this. But now you realize that you’ve missed it, too.

He backs up a bit to allow impatient hands to trace your form—down the sides of your arms to your hips and waist—then underneath your ass in favor of pushing your thighs to your chest. He stares at the apex of your legs for a moment, deadly silent, before slowly moving his gaze back to yours. It’s red. Everything is red.

Breathlessly, he asks you. “Want my fingers, baby?”

Somewhere deep inside you recognize this moment as a point of no return. And what started as a fight for a sliver of freedom was quickly falling out of your control, but you were failing to realize it.

“Y-yes. Please, Eijirou. Please—mh!”

There would be a special spot in hell for the two of you when this was all said and done.

Your eyes were wide open as his lips engulfed yours, allowing you to watch the way your words sent a violent ripple of his quirk coursing through his body.

The view had you in awe, the feeling only magnified as you felt thick, calloused fingers grasp your panties, moving them to the side.

His desperate breaths on your neck contrasted the gentle ministrations of his hands exploring your pussy, simply feeling its wetness with something akin to wonder.

Why did you make him wait so long, is what fingers seem to ask with the way they hold you.

You try to lean in for another kiss, but he was already gone, dragging your lower half to the edge of the bed where he could watch you twitch and whine from on his knees.

And then he was on you.

You heard a quiet fuck leave Kirishima’s lips but the sound didn’t quite register over the feeling of him dragging his nose through your sex, inhaling your scent deeply as if to ingrain it into his memory.

Without so much as a warning he swipes a finger over your pussy, rubbing the lips from side to side, making you listen to the soft shlick! shlick! shlick! of your arousal—as if he was trying to provide both of you evidence that you still wanted him.

And then he was inside, finger inching into you, eyes glued to your face as you squeezed yours closed in favor of panting softly at the feeling.

“How is my baby doing, huh? She uh—” His gaze quickly shifts downwards “—she miss me?”

“S-so much, daddy” you practically whine. “so much!”

It’s too much, even.

He coos. “I can’t believe I’ve been neglecting my baby like this—” he starts to pump in and out of you, slowly, caressingly. He wants to make you cry. “—want me to make it all better?”

The slight friction had you clamping down around him. You were moaning like he was fucking you, and he just had a finger in. You knew that maybe this would feed his ego, but right now you couldn’t find it in you to be sensible, to care.

“Yes!” His finger starts to withdraw.

“Yes who, baby?”

“Daddy—” you breathe. How could you forget? “—yes, daddy—please daddy.”

A second finger forces its way into your heat, a silent approval of your choice of words that you have no choice but to accept glutinously, a deep hoarse whine slipping from your mouth as you do so.

“Daddy will always give his baby what she wants. Isn’t that right?”

You pant and moan rhythmically with the way he presses against your walls, mental capacity beyond responding. All that you know right now is In. Out. In. Out. And the way he breathily mimics—or matches���your whines as they grow more frantic.

He tells you to hug your knees to your chest and he loves the way you wordlessly comply, knowing how to draw out your more desperate moans when you feel a wet finger slide around the ring of muscle outlining your asshole. Kirishima planned on giving you everything right now. Who knew when you would be this pliable again?

The pleasure you feel when his spit lands on your pussy just a second later—before sliding down and down—makes you want to sob. He’s lubricating you just enough for him to press the tip of his thumb inside your second hole, all the while being your good, consistent daddy that doesn’t stop fucking your pussy with his other hand.

He gets up from his knees slowly, hands still working you, as he moves in favor of having his face over yours, watching your facial expressions transform just for him.

Subconscious tears are slipping from the corners of your eyes, giving him an excuse to lick at your face like a loyal watchdog. Your legs begin to shake. He’s everywhere. Inescapable.

You’re falling, giving in to it, gleefully trying to have it all without thinking about the consequences—when he removes his hands from your body without so much as a warning.

Of course it had to be a choice.

There were a lot of people who thought Eijirou was stupid. Just brawns.

They would never know, at least not as well as you did, how much it hurt to underestimate him.

“…Does my baby want to be fucked?”

You knew he had been waiting—waiting for you to come to him of your own volition.

If you said yes he would take it as you giving in. Of you loving him, in some way or another, like you had before.

After all, breaking you down was always his goal.

[owlespresso]

dogged pursuit. dr veritas ratio. p2 of ? but you don't need to read part 1 but if you want to it's here summary: you've been appointed as the bodyguard of one doctor veritas ratio after a failed attempt on his life. he's easy to get along with, so long as you learn when to plug your ears and focus on his washboard abs. tags. suggestive content, reader insert is a bit of a freak

“You’re up early,” you remark idly as you trudge down the stairs. Because it frankly is. The sun’s barely risen. Watery light washes in through the partly opened blinds. A brief glance out the window sees the narrowed streets mostly barren, only a few comers and goers. A woman jogs with her dog. A couple in floral shirts and sandals walks by, chatting leisurely.

Ratio stands in front of the stove, spatula in hand. 

“I wake up at six in the morning every day,” Veritas informs you. On the skillet, something that looks suspiciously like bacon and eggs sizzle. The egg is a little too brown to be an egg like you’re familiar with—the ones on your home planet have a bright blue yolk. “Waking up at a consistent time each morning ensures you sleep better every night. You should give it a try. It might fix that Rube Goldberg machine you call your circadian rhythm.”

“Hmm. I’ll have to do that, then,” you say, bending over the kitchen eyeland to peer at him. He’s wearing a white apron with pale blue gingham patterning. It is, most unfortunately, not the frilly kind like you might have hoped. The tie still cinches around that pretty waist, the pearlescent fabric of his robes bunching up where it’s fastened, strings pulled into a little bow. His robes end just above his knees. Like this, you can peer down at his calves. His ankles. 

Are you really getting off on this guy’s ankles? Shit. You kick off the island and sway around it, crossing your arms and leaning up against the counter, next to the stove. 

Here, you can admire the flex of his hands, the handsome curve of his nose. His dark lashes are thick, fanning over his cheek every time he blinks. “Any other advice you’re willing to give, Doc? I’m all ears.” 

Your fingers wiggle as you exaggeratedly reach over the pan, aiming to pinch a piece of bacon off the popping, hot surface. He swats you away with a scowl.

“I did not have to make enough for us both,” he reminds you, warning you. “The least you could do is wait.” 

“You’re so right, Doc. Patience breeds success and all that,” you nod factually, attempting to look as remorseful as possible for your attempted pilfering. 

He rolls his eyes, and motions over to the sink. Next to it, two mugs are sat. Steam steadily rises from each one. You blink over at them, and then look back to your long-suffering companion. It takes a moment for you to put two and two together, utterly unprepared for him to be so kind to you. 

“For me?” you ask, unable to keep the tender pitch out of your voice because—wow, shit, he really thought about you. He’s cooking for you. It’s a heady kind of feeling that fills you, then. This kind of domesticity is so often out of reach for a person who lives your kind of life—but the esteemed Doctor Veritas Ratio is wearing a cute little apron and laboring over the stove, for you (and himself, but he’s being nice enough to share, and that’s enough to get you going).

He lifts his head from his labors, looking at you with a gauging but otherwise indiscernible expression. 

“Yes,” he says, softest you’ve heard him all morning. “Drink your coffee and sit down.” He commands, but it sounds more like he’s griping at you. 

[osmanthusoolong]

I made these yesterday with @baeddlam , and they were really, really good. Pleasantly aromatic, nice chewy texture. My melancholy is not exactly fully cured, but baking with someone I adore, and enjoying the results, certainly helps.

“Ingredients

12 tablespoons butter

3/4 cup brown sugar

1/3 cup raw honey

4 egg yolks

2 1/2 cups spelt flour (you can usually find it in the baking aisle)

1 teaspoon salt

1 tablespoon nutmeg

1 tablespoon cinnamon

1 teaspoon cloves

Instructions

Melt the butter, then add it to a medium bowl with the sugar, honey, and egg yolks. Beat gently, then fold in the rest of the ingredients. Refrigerate the dough for an hour.

Flour a surface and then roll out the cookie dough until about a 1/4 inch thick. Cut the dough into small circles using a cookie cutter or an upturned glass.

Line a baking sheet with parchment paper, then bake at 375 degrees Fahrenheit for 10 minutes, or until a golden-brown. Let cool, then enjoy.”

[luveline]

hi jade <3 can you pls write an “idiots in love” scenario between fem!reader and peter. something really gushy and fluffy <333

hi baby <3 I'm really sorry I think I may have misunderstood this so they're idiots in love but they aren't together yet !! fem!reader, 1k

Peter's dragging you by the hand through the crowd like one might dangle a carrot on a stick, though you aren't sure what it is he's hoping to attract in the sticky floored Burger King you're dominating. 

"Coming through!" he shouts, shouldering past people in a way that isn't strictly polite. 

You're laughing so hard your waist aches and the tether of your hand is a necessary precaution to stop you collapsing into a baby stroller. The greasy bag of your spoils quivers with a paper crunching as it whacks some poor bystander in the arm, your "Sorry," a swallowed shout in the busyness. 

Finally, you arrive at your destination. Broken crayons and tear away colouring pages splayed messily over a table hidden in the corner of the room, and there, nestled between the chaos, a precious diamond in the rough, lays the true purpose of your visit to such a fine dining establishment on such a hot summer's day. The Burger King crowns lay in their pop put forms, thick printed card stock. 

"They were more impressive when we were kids," you say.

"They're rustic." Peter drops your hand and gathers up way more crowns than you. "Understated. Humble, even." 

"Yeah," you say, giggles emerging once again. 

Peter tucks the crowns into your bag and you leave the way you came through herds of disgruntled New Yorkers and out into the summer heat, dipping into shadows as the glaring yolk of sun dips behind a skyscraper. Peter leads you deep into a cold alleyway and fiddles with the shooter at his wrist. 

"You're sure you won't drop me?" you ask, taking the paper bag of burgers and cradling it against your chest like a child. 

"You think you're so heavy," Peter complains, wrapping an arm around your waist. 

"I am heavy, Pete. A normal guy could pick me up, much less carry me onto a rooftop." 

"I'm not a normal guy." Chest to chest, Peter gives you a shameless smirk. "Hold on tight. I won't drop you, but if you drop even a single French fry, I'll be tempted." 

"Don't even joke about thAT–" your words turn to a breathless hoot as Peter thwicks his wrist upward and the two of you careen through the air. 

"It's alright!" Peter shouts. 

"Woah woah woah!" you shout back, strangling him as you try to climb up his arms and away from the bottomless air below you. Another thwick and you climb higher. A swing that takes the air out of your lungs ends with a jogging stop on a gravel rooftop. "Woah, I'm gonna chuck up." 

Peter rubs between your shoulders. "You always say that." 

"I'm dying." 

"Don't crouch like this, you're begging to be sick." 

Peter helps you up, close and smelling like all things nice. Laundry detergent from a stickler of a laundry sheriff, deodorant and aftershave and the sweet burned sugar smell of his unwise experiments. 

The rooftop is one you've come to before, wide, abandoned, but outfitted with two camping chairs that can be dragged into or out of the sun depending on what half you sit on. You drag your chairs into the sun once your nausea has abated and sit down, Burger King bag in your lap. Peter peels the straps of your tote down enough to grab your unmanufactured crowns, his fingertips summoning an odd shyness from you while they touch you. He's familiar to the point of seamlessness, usually; you and Peter may as well be one person. But now every close encounter, each gentle hand on your skin, is demarcated by a fizzy excitement you can't ignore. 

Peter hooks his chair with an ankle blindly, dragging it under his butt as he sits and pops crowns from their cardstock holdings. He guesses the sizing for your head, and props a golden crown on your head while you retrieve his cheeseburger. It slips down your nose. 

"Woah," Peter murmurs, leaning in to nudge it back up. He looks you right in the eye, close enough to kiss. "Hi there." 

"Hello, good sir," you say, eyeing his own crown. 

"Your majesty," he corrects. 

"Your majesty. Take your burger." 

"Where are my fries?" 

"The crown suits you, I think, considering you're a royal pain. Give me five seconds and I'll give you your fries, jerk." 

Peter's eyes squint gently closed in a slow blink, eyebrows raised. "Jerk. Nice. You're a royal dick." 

"Nice!" You pass him his fries, and the ketchup dip. "We should've got milkshakes." 

"Then you really would throw up." 

"You're probably right," you say, leaning back into the chair, the sun warming your cheeks like a lingering kiss. You tip your head back to eat a handful of soggy fries, salt like an explosion on your tongue. 

"Christ," Peter says, fries in one hand, burger in the other, "they're trying to give us heart disease!" 

"I was thinking the exact same thing," you laugh. 

Peter nods, pleased to be on the same wavelength, and curls your legs together, elbows bumping as you eat with all the laziness of rich people poolside at the country club. The subtle crunch of fries, the crinkling paper bag held under your foot to stop from flying away on the breeze. New York doesn't need anymore litter. 

You give up on your salty fries and Peter doesn't ask, he doesn't need to, polishing them off. His metabolism is enhanced in time with his healing and regenerative abilities, his stomach an endless pit. 

"You should've gotten another burger," you say. 

"You should mind your business." 

"Is it 'cos I was paying?" 

Peter dunks your crown down your face, kisses your cheek, and steals another handful of your fries. "Too slow." 

You laugh and tip your head until the crown falls off. The wind picks it up, and Peter throws his wrist forward without looking, catching it in a web before it can fly off. Burgers, laughter, the flirting sun and an accompanying breeze. Things are perfect. 

You look at Peter as he tries to pull his web from the crown without ruining it. He gives up, grabbing a new one from your tote. 

Well, things are almost perfect.

[celestialprincesse]

I JUST SAW YOUR POLY 141 AND UGGH IT WAS SO GOOD! If you’re interested! Could you do like poly 141 with an angst- hurt/comfort! Where supposedly one of the boys said something and the reader took it in a negative way? I liked to think that this reader is a more sensitive reader, maybe something some of us can relate too (cause I know I can <3)

with lots of love and positivity! - 🩰

Warnings: afab reader, mentions of periods 💕🎀

Cooking is your safe place. The bubbling of pots and sizzling of pans gets you out of your head. Working to delicately lattice the tops of pies or pipe cakes keeps your hands busy and your mind elsewhere. Today, the kitchen is less of a safe place, and more of a war room. The snap of your meat cleaver down onto the chopping board echoes through the house like a death knell, and the boys convene on the porch to work out what the hell happened.

"Mate, she sounds like fucking Hannibal in there." Kyle huffs, fingers pinching at the bridge of his nose to soothe the building headache that stress has dropped upon his temples. Simon is already looking at Johnny, who looks like a guilty child caught with his hand in the cookie jar. "Johnny." Simon murmurs, surprisingly warmly, in that way he does to coax someone to talk before he resorts to his 6'4 arsenal of intimidation tactics. John and Kyle proceed to look his way, his captain's eyes blazing with embers of fire just ready to spark. "I did no mean to say anythin'." His thick Scots accent drips with defeat as he looks at the other men around him. "But.." Kyle nods slowly, a comforting hand placed on Johnny's shoulder, giving an encouraging squeeze. "I said she was acting pissy." He huffs, running his hands over his face in frustration. "She was bein' all huffy an' puffy, tried to ask what was wrong and she went off." Simon immediately has his phone in hand, scrolling through their shared calendar until he comes to the date, and a little blood drop emoji a few days later. "Ah." Simon sighs, followed by a chorus of "Oh's" From the others.

Halfway through cooking whatever it is you'd stormed in here to make - you weren't really sure what - You'd managed to elbow a bowl full of eggs on the floor, and now, sat in a mess of egg yolks, shells, flour and porcelain, you sniffled pathetically into your hands.

"Hen?" Johnny calls softly, a quiet knock on the kitchen door, which he opens slowly, shuffling in with your three other massive soldiers shimmying into the kitchen at his back. "Oh, no." He coos, taking your cheeks in his palms, dropping a kiss to your forehead as he helps you up. "I didnae mean to make you cry, love. I was jus' being an idiot, yeah? Insensitive an that." Simon is at your back, gathering your hair away from your face, leaning the reassuring weight of his head into the crook of your neck, whilst John helps you out of your apron and Kyle grabs cleaning supplies for the mess you'd made on the floor. "I'm sorry for being pissy." You sniffle, stuffing your head into the ever warm skin of his chest, breathing in the scent of his cologne as your residual tears soak his shirt. "Ye was no bein' pissy. Ye jus weren't as chirpy as usual, eh? No problem with that, was jus surprised is all." "You know we all love you." John coos, pressing a gentle kiss to your shoulder as you're left smushed between four huge bodies. "Love you too."

[zoroshonkingbazonkadonkas]

Fic masterpost

One piece

Onigiri can't flirt (but the cook sure can) (zosan oneshot/ 2k/ G)

Zoro’s good eye had widened a bit. “Don’t want you ruining perfectly good onigiri with moss,” Sanji said with a smirk. or: the one in which Sanji's Plans™ go awry (but in a good way)

No matter where you go (zosan oneshot/ 2.7k/ G)

Hadn’t the annoying swordsman been walking beside him when he’d walked across the street? And there was the fountain he definitely remembered having the mossball beside him. Could he be somewhere nearby? Maybe a little bit to the- “OI. MARIMO. WHAT THE FUCK ARE YOU DOING INSIDE THE WATER, YOU BUFFOON?” Welp. At least he’d found him. ~~~ or: the one in which Zoro keeps getting lost, and Sanji is the only one who can find him

A flower in his hair (zosan oneshot/ 828/ G)

“Uh.” Zoro scratched the back of his head. “It’s a bracelet. I know you have a ton of them already, but I saw it and thought it was made for you. It’s almost the exact shade of blue your eyes are.”

How did we end up here? (zosan multichap (2/3)/ 5k/ G)

“Your eyes are blue.” Sanji blinked. “Uh. Yeah?” Zoro was looking at him with a solemn expression. “No like. Really blue. And pretty.” orrrrr: Sedated! Zoro, suffering Sanji

Taking the long way home (zosan oneshot/ 3.5k/ T)

The next thing he knew- he was being hoisted up by a pair of thick, strong arms. Ah. His response was probably taken as a no, then. His body was so warm. It was pretty unfair. or: the one in which Sanji gets sick and is stupid about it (because of course) and Zoro is. less stupid

Hash brown, egg yolk (zosan multichap (1/2)/ 9.3k/ T)

Opening the door to the bath, he was met with the sight of Sanji crouching down, testing the water. He had his back to him, and the kitten was still nuzzling into Sanji’s neck. For a split second, he wished that it was him in her place. That thought, along with the heat that had bloomed in his face as he’d thought so, was promptly forgotten when the kitten extended her little paws towards him, mewing insistently, as if to say, ‘Take me back, bitch’. or: Zosan + kitten

The magic cookbook (zosan oneshot/ 558/ G)

Our boy Usopp is a master story teller as one might say! His latest story is about Sanji and the latest cookbook he purchased. Little does the blond know: this particular cookbook is removed from the ordinary, for the seller is no other than Roronoa Zoro: Wizard Extraordinaire! or: this zosan server prompt got a little bit out of hand note: there will be an extended version of this ficlet

Something just like this (zosan oneshot/ 588/ G)

“You look cute.” Sanji very nearly spews his tea out.

perhaps i'm a little bit obsessed with Zoro noticing Sanji's eyes. just a tad

[what-even-is-thiss]

As an egg lover, could you give me advice on what to do with them? I like having them around for weekend breakfasts or baking, but I often find they go bad before I can get through them all.

Try making a bunch of boiled eggs to eat whenever.

Also if you like ramen eggs and tend to eat instant ramen you can marinade a few ahead of time to use whenever.

To make the marinade you basically take equal parts water, soy sauce, and either sake or mirin and heat it up to dissolve some sugar in it on the stove.

Probably 1/4 to 1/3 cup each and a big spoonful of sugar for most people’s needs or even less. You just need enough to cover all your eggs in a plastic bag or something.

Let it cool to room temperature first and put it in a bag or other container with some peeled medium boiled eggs and let it sit between an hour and ten hours. Don’t go more than twelve hours. The longer you let them sit the more marinade gets into them and if you let it sit too long it can get so salty it’s gross. Even if you love salty food trust me it’s too much.

You can also make all kinds of fast breakfasts or lunches with eggs if you have the means to cook. I really like a fried egg over rice with miso soup. I usually use instant rice and premade soup so it makes for a quick breakfast. A fried egg over toast or scrambled eggs with salsa are also fast to make and really good.

You can also poach eggs in the microwave. This must be done with caution however. You need to poke a couple of holes in the yolks with a fork or something so they don’t explode. Put them in a small amount of water maybe 1/3 cup and a splash of vinegar in a mug or something and microwave them for 15 second increments checking on them in between until they look done enough to you. I’ve done it this way for years and never had an explosion.

You can also get some of those just crack an egg things or make your own ahead of time. My brother really likes those. It’s basically microwave scrambled eggs with a bunch of fillings.

A thing you can do with eggs for dinner is make quiche out of them. Or perhaps a Spanish omelette. Those are omelettes so thick you need to cut them like a pizza. I think they call them a tortilla in Spain but that’s not what a tortilla is where I’m from so I call it a Spanish omelette.

Eggs in purgatory is another good one for dinner. Yes that’s the name of the dish. It’s poached eggs in spiced tomato sauce basically. You can also make egg curry. Really good with soft boiled eggs.

Egg drop soup is good. You can make carbonara if you’ve got pasta and bacon lying around. Baked eggs, American toad in the hole which is an egg fried inside a hollowed out piece of bread. That one can be a hit with kids especially. Migas is good. Fried rice is a good use of eggs and leftover rice and pretty easy to make.

Fried eggs also go good on burgers and pizza. Really. It’s better than you think.

[furrbbyx]

Monster March d.9: getting me and my monster preggers with dragon egg

Really short idea that I had outlined last year but hadn't really written out. I scrubbed it up for the internet so that it's readable

approx. 370 words

smut, like...lots of sex described and implied. so no one less than 18 plz.

my monster expresses they want to get pregnant.  my sweet monster wants to get preggers, and they specifically want a dragon egg pregnancy.

So we call a monster service and get paired with a  dragon.

I urge them on and let them take the dragon cock first. They are both huger than me. I mean just large and thick bodied. I watch them, salivating over the thick fleshy monsters as they begin to breed.

My monster is ass up on the floor lying on a bunch of plush blankets, big round satin pillow with the dragon curling around their body. The dragon growls in appreciation while my monster whimpers like a slut.I rub my pussy all over the dragon's smooth scaled feet then climb on my my monster's back, settling in the arch, and ride their spine. The view of my sweetie getting sloppily bread by the powerful dragon scrambles my brain with lust.

Then I clean them both

While cleaning the rutting dragon I find myself teasing, and squeezing and cupping the churning ball flesh, trying to work that dragon dick. Until I found my hands grasped between dragon claws, raising my arms above my head. Moaning loudly when the claws are used to play with my nipples.

My monster rolls over and starts sucking, We can't let this dragon go without one more load of cum at least.

But this time they convince me to get preggers. WOWie

I top the dragon while my monster rubs my belly and sucks my tits while dragon cum expands my body. Since I'm not as big of a monster it causes some cramping and I need to be soothed.

The dragon decides to hoard us until the children are born to keep us fucked and happy since that's how dragons work. Dragons can become feral while pregg and then they retreat and raise recluse feral dragons.

So their partners keep them docile with orgasms. This keeps the cervix primed and allows the egg to grow.

The eggs are soft ropy yolks that develop to a leathery when they come out and they harden in a few hours after birth.

[saturns-apple]

day 8 - eldritch

another thing for @ultrainfinitepit ultrangeltober!! while the last one is canon, this one encompasses the vibes that atlas has throughout most of the story. mysterious, quiet, with an air of "i know something you don't" adding to a slightly suspicious demeanor but without a way to break it down easily.

the humans might not know a lot about atlas, but they've SEEN a lot of them, at least, and they know at least what they're willing to do around humans or to other people. they know that they're not familiar with human culture and technology, but they're very familiar with nature. they don't know english, but they can kind of tell intention, yadda yadda. there's no lack of Observable Facts, for as unknown as they might be

atlas does a lot of strange things, over the course of the story. they do tricks of the light, manipulate and mimic sounds, make people's limbs fall asleep with their claws, weird stuff like that. though the weirdest things they do are seemingly tied to their eyes. their eyes are actually sockets filled with a kind of thick-ish liquid, held on the inside with some kind of barrier. think an egg yolk. this substance-- it doesn't have a name really but the group just calls it a goop-- has seemingly supernatural properties. if it's given to plants, they will grow rapidly and change forms significantly, like the blue apples in the picture above becoming Like That. if it's given to a human, it can heal them, get rid of headaches and minor sicknesses and heal small wounds. its WEIRD, and makes kyle even more paranoid about what else they could be capable of.

their default "single eye" appearance is like that because kyle told them that ALL of their eyes, which you can see here, are creepy as fuck. they proceeded to close up all but one, and ask if that was better. kyle didn't have the energy to correct them

[auncyen]

Jouvente's most awkward lunch is finally underway.

"So you're still traveling around, huh?"

"Mhm."

"Any special reason you're in Jouvente?" you ask, and try not to get your hopes up.

Siffrin doesn't answer for a beat, cutting off another small piece of the croque-madame he ordered after you reassured them that you were going to pay and didn't mind. The poached egg yolk oozes over the ham and cheese sandwich; Sif moves his fork around to sweep the few drops that run down to the plate back up on the bread. "Um. I...wanted to look for jobs."

Oof. Feels like your hopes got up without your permission. It's fine, they've been put back in place. "Oh! That's right, you used to do odd jobs, right? Any luck?"

"It's going alright! So...what about you? With the..." Siffrin trails off, their brow furrowing in a frustration all too familiar to you. You quickly finish chewing through the broccoli and egg in your mouth to bail them out.

"With the tailoring? Well, I could say it's only sew-sew, but actually, I'm really enjoying it!"

Okay, you had to wedge that pun in there, but still, you thought it'd get a smile out of Sif, maybe a chuckle. Instead, Siffrin looks confused before giving you a smile best described as 'polite'. Sure, his mouth turns up and all, but you don't think he got it in the slightest. "That's good!"

...Probably your mistake for going for sewing puns right after they forgot the word for your work. Yep. Move on, Isabeau. "Yeah! I really lucked out--the store was owned by a seamstress who's retiring. Well, still is owned, but we've got a contract for me buying the store from her. She already moved out to live with her bonded partners, but she stops in twice a week to teach me what I still need to learn about making clothes."

Sif...nods, encouraging you to go on.

"She's cool! She pretty much worked as a seamstress all her life, so she really knows her stuff. Tells me right away when I'm making a design way more work than it should be." Sometimes all the fiddling details were necessary, but other times, you could get the right effect a simpler way.

Siffrin nods, still smiling politely.

Huh. You scoop up another bite of your quiche as an excuse not to talk for a minute, noting that Sif goes for another cut piece of croque-madame at the same time. You never thought a lunch with Sif could be awkward, but...

Boy, is this awkward!

Why is it awkward? You and Siffrin were thick as thieves during your adventure. Sure, it's been a while, you couldn't expect things to be the same right off the bat, but...

“M’dame Odile and Mira will be glad to hear you’re doing okay.”

Siffrin nods. Then he looks confused. Then...you're not sure what that expression is.  “Wait, are they here too?  In Jouvente?”

“No, no, but we’ve been writing!  The last letter was a week ago, they were going to see...aha, apparently there's a play about Mirabelle? She said it was embarrassing, but she and Odile were too curious not to go. Hopefully they liked it!" You weren't all that curious yourself. After all, you'd already lived the adventure. You knew the real story, the real Mirabelle! You hoped the play portrayed her and everyone else well, but you were pretty sure there was no way they had all the details.

Also...you had a bad feeling you were probably portrayed as a jock through and through. Since that was how you acted. You could picture the cast: determined Mirabelle, leading the way; clever Odile, strategizing against hordes of Sadnesses and then the King himself; fun-loving Sif, raising everyone's spirits with jokes and protecting them from traps; brave Bonnie, keeping everyone healthy with good food; ...meathead Isabeau, whose good point was being too dumb to fear the danger.

You're jolted out of that extremely unhelpful thought by Siffrin's next question. “They’re traveling…together?”

...That's a weird tone. “Housemaidens usually go on at least one pilgrimage, not sure if you knew that.  Since M’dame was interested in seeing a little of what Vaugarde's like when it's normal, Mira asked her if they could travel together. So they spent a few months in Vaugarde, and right now they're in Poteria. I think they're planning on Lichtland next? Eventually they'll get to Ka Bue, but it sounded like both of them planned on taking their time.“

Sif's brow is furrowed again as he looks down at his plate. Is he jealous? You were jealous too when you found out. But you get it! Of course Mira and M'dame didn't ask you. You were busy being a sad sack about Siffrin. Well, and even without that, why should they have invited you? It was their trip. Not like you had a good reason to tag along, just...

It would have been nice to.

You can't complain--Jouvente's been good to you. You were the guest of honor at a party hosted by the city, your family is so proud of you (though you know Guy is just happy to boast that he's a Savior's sibling to his partner of the week, which keeps making you secondguess how sincere everyone else is when they reach out to you), the neighbors in your new place have been warm and friendly, you got to start on designing clothes so much faster than you thought you would.

You just miss Mira and Odile a whole lot. You miss Bonbon. You miss what you had with Siffrin, because everything about this lunch feels so off, and at this point you have to ask.

"Sif...you are doing okay, right?"

They immediately smile brightly enough that their eye closes. "Of course I am! Why wouldn't I be?"

[halo-desert-rose]

Mid-Autumn Festival Special comic with Parker and Arthur :3

Mid-Autumn was like, two weeks ago, I’m just slow with comics. Did I draw this comic just to talk about mooncakes? Yes, yes I did. Also apparently there was (probably still is) a really old Chinese bakery that made mooncakes in New York in the 1930s, so Parker probably drove like half an hour to get mooncakes.

Also sharing food as a way of sharing one’s culture? Amazing, spectacular, delicious, I eat that shit up

Image description under cut

[ID:

A traditional comic with no colour. In the first image, Arthur and Parker are stood at the counter of a kitchen. Arthur is on the left, and Parker is on the right. Both are wearing long-sleeved shirts, suspenders and trousers. They both have their short hair combed back, with Parker’s hair being parted to the viewer’s right, and Arthur’s being parted to the viewer’s left. Arthur also has a small moustache that is not too thick. Parker is looking downwards. He has a small plate in his left hand, which has a mooncake on it. The mooncake is a short, cylindrical shape with dents on its sides. In his other hand, Parker is cutting it into quarters with a butter knife. Arthur, slightly shorter than him, has his left hand resting on the counter and is looking somewhat curiously at the mooncake. Above Arthur’s head is a speech bubble, reading, “What is this?”. To Parker’s left, the speech bubble reads, “Mooncake. It’s a… it’s more pastry than cake, I guess.”

The second image is a close-up of the mooncake, with a quarter-slice taken out to reveal the inside. It is a cylindrical pastry with dents on its sides in regularly intervals from the top to the bottom. On the top, is a floral pattern surrounding a square shape in the centre. Inside the mooncake shows the lotus paste encased by a thin line of pastry that makes up the outside, with a circle in the middle. Three speech bubbles are on its left. Parker says “With a salted egg yolk inside.” Arthur replies with, “Egg yolk?”. A line connects Parker’s first bubble with the next, which reads, “Yeah, so that when you cut it open, it looks like the moon.”

The third image shows Parker from the side, with Arthur looking up at him, his head tilted and his shoulder raised, as if he is leaning on the kitchen counter. He looks interesting, or listening intently to what Parker has to say. Parker’s gaze is still on the mooncake, presumably, and is smiling slightly as he says, “But you have to cut it up and share it, otherwise you’ll feel… it’s too rich for one person.”

The next panel depicts Parker and Arthur from the front, with Parker offering a the plate of mooncake to Arthur. His is leaning very slightly down, his gaze on Arthur’s face. Arthur looks surprised, his gaze on the plate offered to him. His right hand is raised to shoulder level, his index finger lifted, as if pointing idly at the pastry. Parker says, “D’you want to try some?” Arthur replies with, “Oh! I… well, what does it taste like?”

The fifth image depicts Arthur and Parker’s chibi faces, and their hands are simplified to rounded shapes with fingers. Parker says, “Well, this one is lotus paste flavoured, so it’s a slightly sweet, almost beany paste. Almost like a dry-ish custard, in terms of texture.” On the side, he adds, “I can give you a piece without the egg yolk, if you want.”

The sixth image shows a close-up shot of Arthur, his head tilted down, and his eyes are closed. He is slightly smiling, saying, “Well, I suppose it wouldn’t hurt to try, right?”

The next shows Parker looking slightly surprised, as if he was not expecting Arthur to take him up on the offer.

The next panel is similar to the previous, but Parker is trying to contain his joy and giddiness, but failing. His face is glowing, figuratively, with a big and relieved smile that reach his eyes. Behind his head is a circle with light emanating from it, resembling a sun. Next to his head are the words, “Yeah, ‘f course.”

The last panel shows both of their backs, leaning over the mooncake. Arthur is more visibly leaning forward, looking forward to trying a slice of mooncake. Their shoulders are touching. Parker, in his first speech bubble, asks, “D’you want some egg yolk?” Arthur replies with, “Sure, why not.” In a bubble attached and outlined with a dotted line, Arthur adds on, “That IS a nice golden colour,” s if impressed. Parker replies with. “Good choice” in one bubble, and in another, he continues with, “My family would always fight over the yolk. That’s the best part.”

END ID]

[marozzoespabakingcooking]

Chocolate Mousse Cake

Ingredients lists

Chocolate biscuit

5 eggs

150g sugar

60g flour

60g corn starch

10g cocoa powder

Chocolate Mousse

3 egg yolks

75g sugar

150g 55% dark chocolate

250g milk

270g heavy cream

4 gelatin sheets (~2 teaspoon of gelatin powder)

Chocolate Disc

100g couverture dark chocolate

Required material

Baking circle (~20cm ø)

Piping bag

Chocolate plastic sheet

Cooking thermometer

Rhodoid band (optional)

Instructions

Chocolate biscuit

Seperate the yolks and the white of the eggs.

Beat/whisk the yolks and half of the sugar until they take a fluffy texture and whitens in color (example video but it can be done faster with an electric whisk).

Beat/whisk the whites and the other half of the sugar until they become fluffy (example video but add sugar at the start).

Put the whites, the yolks, sieved flour, starch & cocoa powder together in one big bowl.

Mix gently until it's all homogeneous. Don't mix to fast or over mix, or you'll loose some trapped air inside the cake.

Prefeat your oven at 170°C.

On a baking sheet, using a piping bag with a 1cm round opening, make a disc 1cm small in diameter than your baking circle.

On another baking sheet, make one or several series of lines, each line being half the height of your baking circle, each barely touching one another. The combine length of everything should be barely more than your baking circle perimeter. See schemas below for better visualization.

Bake for 15min.

While it is still warm, place the disc at the bottom of the baking circle, place rhodoid inside of the baking circle (optional), and then place the band all around the wall. Make sure the two ends of the cake band compress each other, and compress the disc. That will ensure they are sealed tight.

Chocolate Mousse

Put the gelatin sheets in cold water to rehydrate the gelatin.

Beat the yolks and sugar together until it becomes fluffy and whitens in color.

Melt the dark chocolate into the milk.

Once the milk is about to simmer, pour it on top of the yolks, and mix well with a whisk.

Put everything in a sauce pan and cook until it reaches 83°C and put off the stove/heat.

Add in the rehydrated gelatin and mix with a whisk for 5min to make sure it stays fluffy.

Let the mousse cool down until room temperature.

Once at room temperature, beat/whisk the heavy cream until it becomes a well done whipped cream.

Add in the chocolate egg mix, and mix everything gently until it is homogeneous.

Pour into the baking circle.

Chocolate Disc (optional)

First temper the chocolate: Melt the chocolate until it reaches 50-55°C, lower down the temperature while stirring until 28-29°C, and then reheat to 31-32°C.

Pour the chocolate on a plastic sheet designed for chocolate decoration.

Spread the chocolate into a thin layer, and place a second plastic sheet on top.

Before it hardens, push the baking circle on top of the chocolate sheets to make a circle.

Let it cool down until it hardens properly.

Once the chocolate mousse has fully hardened/gelified, remove the baking circle & rhodoid, and top the cake with the disc.

Alernative

If you cannot make the chocolate disc, instead, before removing the baking circle, you can top the cake with cocoa powder, and then remove the baking circle.

You can also add a layer of thick dark chocolate frosting on top.

Advice

When cutting the cake, heat up the knife so you can melt through the chocolate disc instead of breaking it into small bits.

Make sure to make the chocolate disc really thin, or it'll be too hard eat proper.

[the-jellicle-duelist]

do you have fresh pasta advice? specifically ravioli. I am finding a recipe now and made tortellini once before with some success but I trust you on all things food

i have advice for almost everything !

generalllyyyyyy speaking 1 cup of flour + 1 egg + 1/2 tsp of salt will get you to pasta dough. the dials you can turn are typically adding More egg yolks.

for ravioli specifically, you need to make sure you develop enough gluten. this can be accomplished in a lot of ways, but the thing to keep in mind is that the more yolks you add, the more difficult it will be to develop gluten. because yolks are primarily fat with some water. and fat inhibits gluten development.

your dough needs to be strong enough so that you can roll it Thin enough that when you lay the dough on top of itself, it has enough structural integrity it won’t rip or tear either thru pressing it together, or during cooking

pasta dough is pretty dry by design, which makes developing gluten harder. so my best advice for the mixing portion is to get your dough combined until it’s not got dry spots but isn’t smooth. cover it, and let it sit for 15-20 minutes. this will hydrate the flour and naturally develop your gluten without much need to Knead

after that time, give it a few kneads to get it smoother. you should at this point wrap it up and refrigerate it for at least an hour, but 3 or 4 is ideal. you can also make a bigger batch, and then divide it and freeze it at this point

when it comes to the rolling part, i’m assuming you’re using a machine although rolling pins will also work with this advice.

with ravioli, you will want to go a step or even two more thin than with a fresh tagliatelle or similar, because again you’re basically going to double the thickness of each raviolo at its seams and edges.

it’s going to get Really Long. so start with a small piece of dough. and run it thru the machine and get it to half of the thickness levels. fold it over a few times onto itself. and start over. here again, this is also kneading the dough, but it’s also elongating the gluten strands which builds strength. (if you bake bread at all and have done stretch and folds, this is a similar principle)

your dough should be really smooth at this point. if it’s sticking at all, you can very lightly dust some flour onto the surface of the dough. but don’t go insane. if it’s cracking or splitting, repeat the previous step. i have done this sometimes two or even three times so if it isn’t Smooth, give it another go

at this point, you’re ready to do the final rolling. on your machine, process it thru each thickness until you’re down to your last 2 (some machines have 6, 7 or even 10 levels of thickness it just depends)

if your dough lets a ton of light thru, you’re probably too thin. you want the level above. if you go to thin, you can reroll it out it will be fine

the Right thickness will be something that when you fold over on itself feels more or less like where you would stop for regular pasta. (usually this is the 2nd or 3rd to last setting depending on your machine) and then fill however you want. egg white thoroughly mixed with a small amount of water makes a good sealant (and you might have an egg white if you added yolk to your base dough.) but also water works well. if you’re dough has been kind of sticky you may not need any water at all.

a lot of this is Feel, and Intuition which is unfortunately hard to convey over a tumblr post. but hopefully this gives you some things to think about as you go forth on your ravioli adventure.