#plastic rectangle containers

[thiselement]

Molded Fiber Container - This-element

The container is made of bagasse, a fiber-based material made from sugarcane, making it strong and highly compostable. Serving size is 32oz, perfect for building a large portion size for customers.

[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.

[lorialia]

⋆ sweet temptation ⋆

pairing: best friend!han jisung x fem!reader

genre: smut, minors dni.

summary: you and your best friend accidentally devour an entire box of sex chocolates while watching a pirated version of the movie ponyo. now you're left to deal with the consequences.

a/n: this came about after i submitted a similar thirst for @daydreams-after-dark 's birthday month event . . . so if you're seeing this, hi :) thanks for the indirect motivation to start a skz blog and post this. i hope you all enjoy ♡

warnings: dom!hanji, sub fem!reader, accidental use of sex chocolates/aphrodisiacs, dry humping, unprotected sex, very messy and wet, creampie, pet names(baby), possessive language, multiple orgasms, technically there's no verbal consent but they're both enthusiastic

"This is bullshit. I swear it is."

“What do you mean?" Jisung says, staring at you accusingly from across the couch. His wispy black hair falls in front of his round glasses, and his fingers reach up to brush it away so he can give you a halfhearted glare. "I put Ponyo in B-tier. That means it's good."

Your nose crinkles in pure disgust, absolute horror at the dingy laptop placed on your best friend’s ottoman. The screen glitches every once in a while, but you see the brightly colored tierlist clear as day. There’s Ponyo—one of your favorite Studio Ghibli movies of all time, a masterpiece of visual art and fairytale storytelling—in B-tier. Middle of the road. Average.

“It deserves better than just good!” You insist, convinced that he has the worst taste on planet Earth. “C’mon. At least put it up a tier.”

“Next to My Neighbor Totoro? Fuck no.”

“Fuck you!”

“Woah woah woah, language,” Jisung replies cheekily, and you grumble, tipping back to sink your head into the cushions of your best friend’s couch. If he even is your best friend after this anyways.

You and Jisung have been hanging out at his apartment for hours, chatting about basically anything and everything. It’s an especially exciting night; his roommate is out visiting family for the weekend, meaning the two of you have the whole place to yourselves.

“Don’t make a mess,” Minho had said through the phone. “I don’t want to clean up once I get back home.”

So far, you’ve had halfhearted success in baking cinnamon rolls, little-to-no success cooking dinner, and full success in ordering barbeque chicken. The kitchen had barely survived through it all, but aside from an occasional utensil on the floor it’s pretty clean.

Aside from your cooking ventures, you two have taken it upon yourselves to rank all the Studio Ghibli movies on a tierlist. Some of his takes surprise you, maybe frustrate you— but none of them fill you with such rage as seeing Ponyo in B-Tier.

“When was the last time you watched this movie?” You ask, almost demand. Jisung pretends to think for a moment; his soft lips pursing together in contemplation.

“Uhh… when I was twelve.”

“Oh for fuck's sake,” You reach over to his laptop and grab it, typing furiously to find a pirated URL for the movie. “We’re watching Ponyo tonight. No buts.”

“Fine,” Jisung says, extending the ‘e’. Out of the corner of your eye you spot him picking up the empty plastic containers of your dinner. He pouts, lips jutting out exaggeratedly when he finds the tins utterly empty. “Aww man, no more food. I’ll go see if there’s any leftovers in the kitchen.”

“Okay,” You idly reply, too busy trying to bypass the stupid ad pop-ups on his computer. You mash a couple of buttons, open and close a few tabs, and boom, you’re in.

Meanwhile, Jisung has gone and returned from the kitchen. In his hands he holds a random box of chocolates that he tosses into your waiting hands. “Found these in the back of the pantry. Probably Minho’s.”

You open the cardboard flap and dig your hand inside, pulling out a rectangle-shaped chocolate wrapped in pretty red tinfoil. You don’t care to read the name—the room is too dimly lit to see anyway—and rip open the package, finding two square chocolates waiting for you.

“Huh,” You comment, holding up the two chocolate pieces. “I’ve never seen chocolates that come in twos before.”

A hand snatches one of the chocolates away and you turn to see Jisung chewing. His adams apple bobs as he swallows. “Mmm, cherry. You should try it.”

You glance at the singular square held between your fingertips, and shrug before popping it in your mouth.

An hour later, you and Jisung are curled up together watching Ponyo. From glances and little remarks here and there, he seems to be enjoying it, and thank god he does. You couldn’t stand seeing Ponyo be misplaced any longer.

During a particularly captivating underwater scene, you reach for the box of chocolates—only to find the insides empty. You blink for a moment, tearing your eyes away from the screen, and realize you and Jisung have eaten them all.

“Aww,” Your eyebrows furrow in annoyance, but you remove yourself from the pile of blankets to toss the box in the trash. Your best friend remains engrossed in the movie, only shifting to adjust his glasses.

You think to check the brand on the box before you throw it away. It would be nice to get again, after all. The chocolates tasted pretty good—

“Jisung.”

The serious tone of your voice jerks your best friend back into reality, and he hurries to pause the movie. His gaze flickers up to yours with a slight level of concern. “What’s up?”

“These chocolates…” You audibly gulp, and your mind swims from reading the label on the box. “I don’t think these are regular ones.”

“Then what are they?” Jisung crawls over from his side of the couch and leans over your shoulder. His breath tickles your neck as he speaks. “Weed?”

You point to the packaging. It’s sensually decorated, with elegant lettering and a good number of red hearts littering the front. Right in the center are two words: aphrodisiac chocolate.

Jisung’s eyes bulge wide open and he blinks several times. “Sex chocolate?!”

“Yeah,” You let out a breathless, winded chuckle. Your eyes are equally as wide as his. “How many did we eat?”

Over the next minute, you and Jisung rummage around the couch and collect as many wrappers as you can. With each find, you’re more and more flabbergasted—assuming you two had an equal amount, you can say that you probably had ten to twelve chocolates…each.

“Holy shit,” is the only thing he can say for the next minute. You check the back of the box and discover more lovely news: the recommended amount is one to three squares per person.

There’s silence for the next couple of minutes after that.

The two of you must look so stupid, crouching over copious candy wrappers, dumbfounded by your dual idiocy. What the fuck were you going to do?

Jisung attempts to answer that question in breaking the silence. “So essentially…we’re gonna get super horny.”

“Yeah,” You respond, wincing. “I’m kind of trying not to think about that right now.”

“Well- I mean- You- I- ugh,” Jisung rubs his temples sorely. For once he’s completely serious, no giggles, no jokes. It concerns you as much as it frightens you. “How long until it kicks in?”

“A few hours, it says.”

“Any way to reverse the effects?”

“We already ate the chocolates, Sungie. I don’t think we can get them out.”

“Fuck,” He stares at the empty container. “What are we gonna do then?”

You open your mouth to respond and find it dry. Suddenly you’re hyperaware that in an undisclosed amount of time, both you and your best friend will be incredibly horny. In an apartment together, with no distractions. Just you and him.

You’re tempted to run for the hills. Grab your bag and race home to deal with it all on your own, rather than face this volatile situation and the can of worms that is your undeniable attraction to a man you swore never to date. It feels like the better situation for a split second; enough for you to place one foot on the ground in an effort to stand up from the couch.

Jisung’s head whips up immediately, and the panicked, almost desperate flash in his eyes freezes you in place. It’s almost a plea, a look that stirs something deep in your gut: Please. Don’t go.

You sit back down.

“So…wanna watch the rest of Ponyo?”

By the end of the movie, Jisung moves Ponyo up to A-tier. Normally you’d gloat in his face and criticize his judgmental movie taste—but you can’t seem to get the thought of the chocolates out of your head. It doesn’t help that he's uncomfortably close, his hoodie brushing up against your shoulder with every breath.

He doesn’t say anything as he shuts the laptop, doesn’t look at you as he leans back on the couch. His eyes are distant. Unfocused, dazed like you’ve only seen when he’s dead drunk.

You only need to wonder why for a moment before you notice just how burning hot you are.

Your shirt tightly sticks to you like a vice, and your head fogs like smoke filling the air. The thick pulse in your chest can’t seem to subside, and you feel your skin heat up more with every second that passes.

One sensation rushes in even stronger, an ache from your lower half. Your thighs squeeze together involuntarily, feeling for some sort of relief, any sort of relief. God, you’ve never wanted a dick more in your entire life.

And your best friend happens to be sitting right across from you with one.

Shit. No. You can’t think that way about him; you shouldn’t look. He’s your best friend—but your gaze moves on its own and hones in on the very obvious bulge in his sweatpants.

You glance upwards. Jisung’s cheeks are flushed. A bead of sweat trails down his forehead. He can’t seem to stop swallowing. His pretty dark eyes are not trained on yours but on the way your thighs press against each other for friction. He stares as if he’s devouring you whole.

“Jisung?” You say softly, your voice almost hoarse in your throat. There is no need to whisper. It’s just you and him, in his apartment together, alone.

“…Yeah?”

“Are you feeling it too?”

Jisung still can’t seem to look you in the eyes. He nods, slowly.

You crawl closer.

“Fuck,” He sputters out breathlessly. His hand reaches up to shakily adjust his glasses. Sweat seems to drip down the side of his face and off his chin. He wipes it away.

You inch closer, and with every shuffle you hear Jisung’s breath grow more ragged. His hands move all over himself— adjusting the gray sweatpants you want to ruin so badly, make a mess all over and cum on, brushing away the same strand of hair over and over. He still can’t seem to look at you.

Finally, you arrive right in front of him. You sit with your legs spread wide, your shorts doing little to cover up the arousal starting to drip down your thigh. Your knees, planted on the couch cushion, brush against his legs. His breath stops.

You reach up and gently grab ahold of his chin. Slowly, you turn his head so he comes face to face with your equally flushed face.

“Oh my god.”

In an instant, Jisung’s lips press against yours; he practically climbs on top of you, pinning you down into the furniture. His arms reach and wrap around whatever he can as he drinks from the taste of your lips in a dizzying rhythm. It’s insistent, messy, desperate. Your mouths move in a tangled dance, hoping each to swallow the other whole.

His fingers find the bottom hem of your shirt and hook underneath it to tug it up. You oblige and revel in each and every touch you can get.

Your shirt is shoved above your breasts, and Jisung doesn't bother to unclasp your bra—opting to move the fabric aside instead. He breaks the kiss to ogle at your bare chest. His eyes are lidded and you swear that his pupils are heart-shaped, and he sighs, almost dreamily. Like he's seen a piece of heaven.

“God, you're fucking beautiful,” He mutters from above you. “I'm sorry, I just can't....”

His words send a rush of heat straight to your core, and you whine. Next thing you know, he has his hands on your knees and spreads your legs apart so he can slot himself between them.

The friction of his pants against your clothed clit makes you keen—usually you aren't so sensitive, if not for those chocolates. Every sensation seems to be heightened.

"Sungie~" You whimper as Jisung rocks his hips against yours, your legs wrapping around his waist. He leans down to capture your lips in his once more, hungry for the hints of chocolate he tastes.

Everything is sloppy and coordinated; he grinds into you like a bunny in heat, groaning at every bit of friction between his gray sweatpants and your cotton shorts. It's hot and stuffy, but you've never felt so good in your life.

"Feel so good, shit-" Jisung mumbles between messy kisses. His glasses are fogged and hanging half off his nose, but he couldn't care less. "Wanna fuck you so badly- you want that? Want me to fuck you- ah, god~ like you deserve?"

Jisung shoves his head down into your chest, burying himself between your two mounds as he presses up on you from below. He kisses your skin and moves slightly to suckle on your right nipple, making you keen. His soft boba eyes peek out to look up at you, dazed and sick with sticky desire.

Your cunt clenches around nothing, throbs under the way Jisung's clothed cock hits your clit repeatedly. You want him to fuck you so bad, need your best friend's dick to split you open.

"Fuck me please," You beg, your voice trembling and thoughts hazy with lust. You've never begged for a man before, but Jisung is simply different in every way. "Please, Jisung, Sungie, please-"

He audibly groans, as if the sound of your voice gets him any closer to heaven. He wrenches himself away from your cunt to slip down his pants just enough for his thick, veiny cock to slip out. Meanwhile, you can't resist slipping your hand under the waistband of your shorts, to your needy wet cunt. You rub your clit with two of your fingers, whining softly at the stimulation of your swollen bud.

Suddenly, Jisung's hands wrap around the hem of your shorts and panties—he tugs them down all at once, exposing your sobbing pussy to his greedy view. You look up and his eyes are hungry, lidded and clouded with want, zeroed in on your cunt. You think he might be drooling.

Jisung hurries to press his cock against your wetness. He's shaky, almost trembling as he guides his mushroom tip through your folds, his breath coming out in stutters.

Even with just the tip, it's big. You feel like you're split open, and every inch of his cock entering your pussy sends a shiver of pleasure down your spine. It doesn't even hurt with how wet it is, and he slides in like warm butter. He practically collapses onto you as soon as he bottoms out, his head buried in your neck.

His cock twitches inside you, and you realize through the haze that Jisung isn't moving. He's whining softly, breathlessly, but his hips do little more than tremble.

"Jisung-"

"Don't," He shushes you. His voice is raspy and desperate, and he mouths at your neck between words. "I-I'm trying not to cum."

You whine, wanting any sort of friction—but Jisung doesn't budge. Then you squirm a little, just to feel it a little more, and both of you let out audible moans. He grabs your hips roughly to hold you in place.

"F-fuck-" He swears, and there's a growl in the back of his throat. "Are you trying to get me to cum inside?"

The idea of his cum filling you up sends a rush through your bones. You inadvertently clench around him, and the grip on your hips becomes so strong it might bruise.

"Y-you want it that bad? Fine then. Fucking take it."

Jisung starts a relentless pace; he groans into your neck and holds your hips down so you take every inch of him with every thrust. His tip brushes up against your cervix sweetly, and you keen, your hands tangling into his black hair.

"You're so wet baby-" He mutters, stamping in a word between rough thrusts. "So. Fucking. Tight. God, bet no one has made you feel this good, huh? Say it."

You can barely find the words, letting punched-out moans every time his cock kisses your cervix. "Y-you're the only one, Ji!"

"That's it," He says, his pace speeding up impossibly faster. He's hardly going in a pattern, just bunny fucking into you like there's no tomorrow. "This pussy belongs to me, doesn't it? All mine~"

Jisung changes his grasp; he gets a hold of your thighs and spreads them so he can fuck you deeper. It's a welcome change—and you remove one hand from his hair to clamp over your mouth, your moans becoming unabashedly noisy. Your eyes squeeze shut and roll back behind your eyelids. "O-oh Jisung, that feels good-"

"Baby, baby please, I gotta cum- gonna cum inside, want that? You want that?" He says, and his hand shakily moves to rub his palm against your clit.

You cry out, about to tip over the edge. You want it more than you've ever wanted anything in your life. "P-please!"

Jisung groans loudly, not bothering to muffle the noise as he cums inside. You cum at the same time, whimpering into his tangled-up hair. His hips stutter but they don't halt; he fucks his cum into you lazily. You whimper at the sensation of his warm cream filling your insides. It's messy and deliciously wet.

"Jisung," You mumble out, still feeling a burning ache. You're addicted to the pull of his cock inside your walls. "I- I want-"

He interrupts you with a groan; then his hips begin to pound into you once more, moaning into the skin of your neck. He simply can't stop, even when you let out a high-pitched cry.

"I'm sorry baby- just had to. Your pussy is sucking me in-" Jisung grunts. His voice is nearly drowned out by the wet squelch of every thrust into your creamy cunt. "Just one more, one more, that's it~"

You feel like you're being folded in half from the way he presses you down, your thighs moving to rest on his shoulders. He ruts into you with reckless abandon, and his hands find themselves digging into the couch on either side of your head.

Jisung lifts his head up so it's right above yours, and you see him for the first time in what feels like ages. His glasses are long gone, and his lips are slightly ajar as he groans senselessly with every thrust. The pinkness of his round cheeks and the lidded pleasure in his eyes matches yours; he leans down to capture your lips in a sloppy kiss.

You moan into his mouth sweetly, and he hums in delight. There's no rhythm to the way he kisses you and fucks you—just pleasure-driven madness, desperation to feel you in every way.

"Mine," He mumbles, almost to himself as he pounds into you desperately. "Gonna cum in you again, fill you up~ my baby, all mine-"

You clench despite the tired ache in your thighs. You want him to cum in you over and over, spill his semen and let him fuck it into you again. You want him completely, irrevocably.

It's this thought that sends you over the edge for a second time; you wail, unable to make out any words as a wave of pleasure washes over you. Jisung messily kisses you throughout, muffling the sounds that escape your lips with his own.

He thrusts a few more times, groaning senselessly into your mouth before finally cumming again. Another warm sensation floods your insides and you sigh in satisfaction.

Jisung crumples onto your body and simply lays limp on top of you. Neither of you can bring yourselves to move.

"Best sex ever." He croaks out with a hoarse voice, and you laugh tiredly.

The next morning, you wake up on the couch. Jisung is laying next to you, his body tangled with yours. He stirs as you shuffle and pull yourself up from the cushions.

"Morning," You whisper, and he responds with a soft hum. His hair is adorably chaotic and worsens as he runs a hand through it. "Sleep well?"

"Yeah," He says, and sits up with a groan of pain. "God, my joints. I feel like I blew out my back."

You notice a similar soreness in your thighs, but you tease him regardless. "You old man."

"Shut up," Jisung replies with no real malice. He looks down at you with surprising affection, his boba eyes twinkling with joy. You can't help but smile at the sight.

"Why are you looking at me like that?" You say, an amused breath leaving your lips.

"Nothing," He grins cheekily. "Just that I got to have sex with my best friend who I've liked for an entire year."

You blink in shock, and Jisung giggles. "What? You're surprised?"

"No, I mean- yeah," You find yourself stumbling over your words, a pink blush appearing on your cheeks. "I mean, we did fuck yesterday, I just didn't expect you to say it so...bluntly."

"Well I did," Jisung lowers his voice to a soft whisper. He leans in close so his lips nearly brush against yours. "I like you."

"I like you too," You reply bashfully, and you can't resist kissing him. It's slow and saccharine sweet, nothing like the desperate messes you were yesterday. He sighs like a love-struck teenager as you pull away.

"Minho's gonna kill us," He mumbles dreamily. You burst out laughing.

[niqhtlord01]

Humans are weird: Supermarkets

Alien: What makes this place “Super”? Human: It has all the food you can want. Alien: Does it serve human? Human: …….. Human: It has almost all the food you can want. ---------------------------

Alien: And you call these things “Spices”? Human: Yup. Human: From all over the world and you put them on food to make them tastier. Alien: They don’t seem that noteworthy. Human: Don’t tell the british that; they fought several wars over them. Alien: And yet their food still tastes terrible. Alien: *Stops and turns to see human friend smiling Alien: What? Human: I am just so proud of you right now. --------------------------

Human: *Watches alien friend debating between two different brands of milk. Alien: *Becoming increasingly angry wondering where the rest of the 98% of the cow is. ------------------------

Human: What are you doing? Alien: *Unwrapping candy and measuring it Alien: I am ensuring it really is by the foot. ------------------------

Alien: I now understand why your species is so random. Human: Really? Human: Why? Alien: *Points to liquor aisle. -----------------------

Alien: Why do you put your young in tiny containment chairs? Human: Have you ever seen a child free in a supermarket? Human: They are like terrorists hopped on Colombian snow. Alien: None of what you said makes any sense to me. ----------------------

Alien: You have been debating between those rectangles for the last ten minutes. Alien: Please pick one as I wish to see the crustacean torture box once more. Human: Please do not call the fish tank a crustacean torture box. Alien: Do you not make them watch as their comrades are taken away one by one to be devoured. Human: Well, yes, but- Alien: Then it is a crustacean torture box. ---------------------

Human: I can’t decide. Human: *turns to alien friend and holds up two boxes. Human: Which one should I get? Alien: *Looks at both boxes, then points at right one. Human: Really? Human: Why pick that one? Alien: In a fight these tiny pointy eared mutants would be no match against a terran tiger. Human: *sighs Human: You can’t pick cereal based on which mascot would win in a fight. -------------------- Alien: Why does this fruit not have skin? Human: It was peeled so the customer doesn’t need to peel it. Alien: If it was meant to be easy then why is it in a plastic container? Human: Because without the skin it rots faster, so the plastic keeps it contained. Alien: Was the skin not already an effective container? Human: It was. Alien: So you skinned the fruit to make it easy to eat, but then put it in plastic to stop it from rotting. Human: I DIDN’T MAKE THE RULES; OKAY?!?! --------------------

Alien: I wish to use the mobile throne. Human: That’s a mobility scooter and you can’t use it. Alien: But my legs are tired of walking. Human: It’s meant for people with disabilities so you can’t just- *Loud snapping sound Human: *Turns to see alien has broken one of their legs and is now limping over to scooter. Human: Your lack of pain threshold is infuriating. Alien: Kiss my thorax ground pounder! *Proceeds to drive slowly away. --------------------

Alien: Why do you store your cheese as wheels? Human: Ease of access I guess. Human: How do you store your cheese? Alien: Paradoxical Cubes. Human: That doesn’t seem possible. Alien: For centuries it wasn’t. Alien: We lost a lot of good scientists in the endeavor.  Human: ……. ---------------

Human: *Wondering where alien friend is when alien friend comes running around the corner. Alien: We need to leave. Human: What did you do? Alien: They were offering samples of fried fish. Human: And? Alien: And I took two. Human: Dear god…. *angry supermarket workers come swarming in from every aisle

[greedyhoneyz]

And Many More. Toji Fushiguro

Cheers to many more years for you are forever growing— perhaps a little too fast.

contains: lots of fluff. dad!toji. husband!toji. baby megumi. author's notes: credit for this pic goes to the owner. enjoy!

The screen is black at first, then grainy before a couple splatters of colour flicker across. Then comes light and the fusing in of faces, figures and smiles.

It’s loud, and you can barely make out the voices behind the camera, but the few words that are recognizable are, “Don’t run, you're gonna fall...”

The camera pans over to the indoor play gym, an overmassing tower of steel, soft foam and pvc. It’s filled with kids of all ages and sizes, screaming their hearts out as they crawl, jump, slip and slide across the fortress.

The shot goes in and out of focus; you can hear the patter of fingers toying with the dials on the camera. It zooms out, the camera turning and a banner reading “Happy Birthday Megumi” fills the screen. Below it, a table full of presents tower atop one another which would occasionally rattle at the impending sound of children rushing by.

Children and adults come in and out of the frame as the camera pans to a long table, decorated with a lengthy, white tablecloth and plastic cups, plates, cutlery and pizza boxes.

The camera veers around to the play gym, zooming in on the ball pit by the bottom of the two conjoining slides. Happy faces are all around, the joyous laughter of children and the rumble of balls clattering against each other.

It’s not long before a mother appears by the ball pit, her hands propped on her hips as a discontented look washes over her face. She heaves, her chest retracting downwards, gathering her strength and exhales.

She climbs in, stumbling a bit and trudges through the pool of balls and children, maneuvering around and dodging spray balls ricocheting through the air.

She’s a couple meters away before stopping in front of a group of children. She waves, amuses their attention with animated expressions and gestures, and turns to the nearest child at her side.

She crouches down, beckoning the child to hip and tends to him with a kiss on the head and the motioning of her head. She jeers her head towards the group seating and stands, grabbing the child’s hand.

The mother and child in tow saunter through the ball pit as the camera zooms in and out. It follows the two just as they reach the edge of the pit, before the dishevelled silhouette of a stray ball comes flying overhead.

It whacks the cameraman on their head and the camera quickly falls to their feet, as the voice from behind groans and swears under their breath. “Shit… that fucking hurt.”

There’s shuffling behind the camera when the cameraman comes to their senses, the twirling of dials and the screen turns black.

Light returns to the screen; the camera is pointed at a table. Behind it, the mother and the child, stand, waiting expectantly. They look on behind the camera, following a mass of cake as it enters the frame.

It’s being carried by the father; a staunt expression painting his face. He places the cake on the table: it’s a large rectangle construction with blue and orange frosting, and black icing, and it’s accompanied by a few lit candles and the number “5”.

The father steps, positioning himself beside the mother and places a comforting hand on the young child’s shoulder as the mother ushers him to the center between.

The leisure center is quiet, except for the occasional cough and whisper. There’s some excited cheers and laughter which are quickly muted by a sharp hush or a mean retort which the camera picks up.

Reeling in, the camera focuses on the child perched between his parents. His eyes are wide with both shock and delight as he stares down at his cake, his mouth slightly agape. For a few moments, he peers up and takes in the expressions on his parents’ face, their joy and pride evident. They beam down at him, heartening him with tender words and smiles before the mother lifts her head and motions to the surrounding crowd.

“Happy birthday to you….Happy birthday to you…”

“Happy birthday to Megumi…..”

“Happy birthday to you…”

Megumi grins, his mouth reaching from ear to ear. He places his hands on the edge of the table with the beckoning of both his parents and guests, and leans forward, closing his eyes to blow out his candles.

He blows and his candles flicker but they stay strong in the wind.

He blows again, blowing out a few candles, yet the strongest amongst them survive. So he stops, closing his eyes once again and inhales deeply. He leans forward, lets out a heavy exhale and blows with all his might till his face turns red.

Through a long drag, his candles extinguish and in turn, Megumi changes. He sheds off his skin, shaking off his four year skin and sinks into his new skin— five.

The camera lense is rattled with cheers, screams and blinded by bright flashes as the guests welcome in a five year old Megumi.

He smiles gleefully and in awe, and turns to his parents once again. They peer down at him with bright faces and congratulate him. His mother plants a kiss on his cheek and then to his chin and then to his nose and then his eyes and then to his forehead. It’s evident she’s proud, over the moon and a little bit sad, but she takes on her emotions with stride and a warm smile.

His father, an occasional comic, wipes his pointer finger across the edge of his cake, his fingertip doused in icing. He waits carefully, watching his son turn and grab onto his mother before launching his attack, smearing the icing across his son’s cheek. It catches the boy off guard and his father quickly hides his hands behind his back when the boy turns, directing an accusing glare towards him.

Feigning expressions of shock and confusion, his father shakes his head profusely, refusing to accept his guilt. But when Megumi frowns, his father quickly gives in, admitting his guilt.

He crouches down, settling down to his son’s height and turns his cheek to the side, tilting his head back slightly. He points to the cake and taps his cheek.

It doesn’t take long for Megumi to put two and two together and quickly wipe his hand across his cake, and smear its remnants across his father’s open cheek, giggling.

Pretty soon, his mother joins in on the fun, smudging both father and son with icing across their faces before closing her eyes and submitting to their prickly fingers.

She shudders under their hold, fighting back a grimace and a chuckle as Megumi and his father blot icing across her face and somehow her shirt.

She opens her eyes, her gaze registering the sight of her husband and child before letting out a snigger.

Her laughter faded, as did the colours of faces, figures and smiles, as a picture fades. It features father, mother and child in arms together, stained in sugary delights but forever joyous with smiles as vivid as the sun. Their fondness, forever encapsulated in footage of Megumi’s fifth birthday.

[keruukat]

PLARN (Plastic Bag Yarn) TUTORIAL!

You Will Need:

Plastic grocery bags (though you can also use plastic packaging if it didn’t contain food, or really just any plastic if it’s long enough and clean.)

Scissors

Pen that can mark the plastic

Something to measure with

I’m not the best at describing things, so I’m going to do my best to supplement with images. I would put alt text but I don’t honestly know how to meaningfully describe the images that’s not what I write in the tutorial. Also don’t mind my dirty desk!

Instructions!

Grab your bag! I’m using this blue one because I thought it would show up better on camera and I have a bunch.

Flatten it out, like so! I like to hook one thumb in the bottom flap thing, where it’s sealed shut, and the other in the handle.

Fold it up! I fold it in half, twice, hot dog style. Should get you a nice long rectangle. Make sure the edges are nice and lined up, especially the bottom and the handles.

Chop off the sealed bottom as close as you can to the seam, and the handles as straight as possible. You want nice square corners. You’ve basically got a cylinder of plastic, now.

Unfold one side. It should have only one layer of plastic. If it has more, refold it up and flip it over, and unfold it again.

Measure and mark the width you want your plarn to be! I use an old staples box for the perfect width for my use, but you might want it thinner or thicker depending on. Too thin might cause issues with stretching while working, though.

Cut off any excess. This is where I’m discarding the damaged part!

Mark the top edge, staggered from the bottom marks. Exactly half way! This will be a guideline later.

Cut the marks on the folded side. DO NOT CUT ALL THE WAY ACROSS! Only cut the folded parts, into strips.

Unfold it! Everything should be attached on one side only. It’s time to Spiralize This Bitch.

Cut on a diagonal where one cut ends and the next begins. Hopefully that makes sense? You’re trying to take this tube and make it into a long spiral.

Ta da! You have 1 bag worth of plarn! Tie any subsequent strips together, and have fun working with your plarn!

PRO TIP: this is pretty labor-intensive but I’ve been reinforcing the plarn by single-crocheting the whole length of it, weaving tied ends in as you go. It’s worth it, because I’m making a granny square tote bag out of this, and I don’t want it to break when I’m done.

[iron-sides]

i said it the first time i watched this vod but i really need to study duality duo like bugs . no time soon bc i have a LOT of vods to watch just to feel adequately caught up on lore but im so fascinated by the fact that every opportunity possible ros always talking about how its his job to contain mapicc. what. most nonsensical shit ive heard in my life (affectionate). like ik what that Means in theory (mapicc is unpredictable and violent and ro theoretically acts as his impulse control) but like ??? why is ro the boss of mapicc??? who gave him this authority ??? why is it his job??? mapicc has never echoed or agreed with this sentiment as far ive heard but also the closest hes come to DISagreeing is taking issue with the word contain so like ???? ig hes on board?? i have so many questions which i could solve very easily by watching their vods unfortunately the list of things i need to vodwatch grows exponentially by the day... i need to put them in a little thin plastic rectangle and stick them under a microscope like in high school biology class

[gridgamesgalore]

Pin is a female contestant in Battle for Dream Island, Battle for Dream Island Again, IDFB, Battle for BFDI, and Battle for Dream Island: The Power of Two.Pin appears to be a standard plastic pushpin, with a red body and a gray point. In early BFDI, Pin's point is blunt like her personality, compared to later versions in BFDI 14 onwards, where it is sharper. For most of the series, Pin's body is crimson red, and her point is gray. However, in IDFB, her body is white because Golf Ball took her coloration and

Fifty-Four, or 54, is a Numberblock made of 54 blocks. Fifty-Four has fifty light blue blocks with blue borders, and four green blocks. He has blue rectangle eyes, eyebrows, limbs and pink lips. He also wears a bowtie, with the left side resembling Nine's blocks, the middle containing a multiplication symbol, and the right side resembling Six's dots. On the back of his blocks, he has 6 grid games. He also wears an array display as he has 8 factors, and teal shorts. Fifty-Four likes games that are played on gri

[sleebyconfy]

colors and shapes and textures. containers. hen feathers. sunlight through leaves onto ground. cats clean fur. circle, triangle, rectangle, polyhedron, leaf, different leaf, water droplet, heart, rounded polygon, spiral, different triangle. hard plastic blocks that fit together. dashboard brimming with dials and knobs and levers and buttons and switches and sliders, light switch with a dimmer. chainmail, linen, leather, cotton, silk; embroidery, kandi bracelet, wooden beads; wooden table, wooden block, wooden chair, wooden spoon, small wood box, big wood box. campfire, soap and warm water. intricate pattern, simple pattern, organic pattern, uniform pattern. rain stick, steel drums, wooden frogs, cello, trumpet, electric guitar pedals all in a row, sound board, singing bowls, wurlitzer, theremin, train whistle, tea kettle, moog synthesizer. watercolor, oil paint, cell animation, spray paint grafitti. warm sun, cool breeze, warm ears, cool forehead. from the bottom up: gold, orange, salmon, pink, mauve, purple, light blue, dark blue, black; with green and gold and grey border and detailing. soap bubbles in the air, pastel chalks on the cement, gently bright moon, waving hello, sweet and tart refreshing drink, calming warm beverage, soothing ointment, soft towel, sturdy trinket. thank you for considering with me! what feels good in your world?

[dollsonmain]

Got up at 3:30 on a day off just to breathe.

Here comes Son. I need alone time. Trying not to cry.

Anyway. Long, long rambly about food storage and handling.

Still EXTREMELY frustrated by the food handling and storage situation at the gas station, like it takes up space in my head when I'm not at work, and trying to remember what made it so efficient at Wegman's. I've probably already been over this I just can't remember. I'm also just like CAN I say anything? Would that go over well or be annoying? I don't know.

They've owned the place since 2020 and have been doing things this way the whole time as far as I know, and also afaik haven't been tracking expiration dates well at all so likely have no idea how much food/money they're wasting or how much expired food they're feeding customers.

I can't tell if Manager has had the food handler's training and is certified. It could be that she is certified but doesn't really care and it's not a place that a health inspector is likely to wander into and catch them.

Granted Wegman's is a food selling place so would care more about food handling and storage than a gas station, and turns pretty big profits so has more to spend on food handling and storage.

Though proper storage would save money over time and likely increase sales because customers would be able to trust they're going to get something "good" every time. Consistency is important to building a good reputation.

-

Storage

The first thing is a place for everything, everything in it's place.

If we were out of cheddar, for example, there would be an empty shelf in the big walk-in cooler. You could see with a glance that we were out of cheddar or that we had 5 blocks left and it was time to order more.

In the gas station, right now, there are 3 boxes of chicken patties. One in the primary freezer, one in the ice cream freezer, and one in the cooler, thawed and moldy. They should all be in the same place. They should all be frozen.

I wouldn't know there were three if I hadn't happened to stumble upon them myself.

The second is clear containers and washable labels.

Cheddar would arrive in cardboard boxes with each 40lb block in it's own plastic bag and each bag had a printed label on it. Cardboard boxes were discarded and the bags stacked on the shelf. This worked because a block of cheddar was a rectangle.

For things that don't stack easily, like olives which arrived in little plastic kegs, when it was time to open a keg they would be dumped out into large, clear, plastic food storage bins and labeled with what it was and it's expiration date. Once that date hit, regardless of what container it was in, it was discarded.

These food storage bins all had lids designed for stacking and it was very efficient to store because you could just stack everything neatly, see the labels, and see what was inside, it's status, and how much there was. If it got moldy or was running low, you could see.

Some for hummus, it came in large bags and was dumped into steel bins to be put onto the olive bar. The detriment to this is that being spread out into a steel bar bin means more surface area, so in the case of the gas station, keeping the sandwich salads in their original, plastic tubs works just as well in the mini fridge as transferring them to bins would. Less surface area in the containers and the round tubs take up about the same amount of space as the rectangular, stacked bins would. However, getting things in and out would be easier with stacked, rectangular bins.

The places where plastic bins would help the most at the gas station are the freezers and the cooler, though usually we don't have any deli stuff in the cooler other than bread. Right now there's lots of meat in there, too.

Don't get me started on how that's being stored. tl:dr it's wrong.

The dirty shipping boxes are put into the freezer as is, then opened, a hole ripped in the bag inside, and we just stick our [gloved] hand into the open bags to get stuff out. It is not ideal. If the box is up on it's end I can't see the label without taking the box out, if the box is lifted out of the freezer the wrong way the product all falls out, and you can't see how much is left without pulling out the whole box and looking inside. Knowing when to reorder is difficult because everything has to be dumped out to see how much is left.

And, since the bags are just open in there, everything gets frostbitten.

The cooler stays at 35F which is actually a bit low for food storage but is ok. One of the fridges (has factory-made sandwiches, lunchables, and small snack cheeses) gets up to 45-48F now and then long enough to be able to feel the change if I stick my arm in, and that's not acceptable, but I can't do anything about it. That fridge's compressor rattles something awful, too. It'll break soon I think.

-

Expiration dates

We get tubs of sandwich salads pre-made and Manager doesn't seem to understand how expiration dates work.

When we make the sandwiches, she wants the ones made with refrigerated ingredients marked for disposal after 7 days (it should be 4), and with frozen ingredients marked for 9 days (it should also be 4 because those ingredients are thawed as they sit in the cooler) (as a matter of fact the tubs should also be discarded 4 days after they're opened).

That's regardless of the expiration date on the pre-made salads or ingredients. Which is wrong.

For example, we had egg and tuna salads that expired on Oct 3 and were still making sandwiches with them on Oct7 because she decided they're still ok because of when they arrived.

Arrival date has no effect on expiration date, it's manufacture date and the expiration date of any individual ingredients when it's manufactured that affect the expiration date.

Anyway, those sandwiches were still being marked for 7 days out.

We got in a new tub of chicken salad but it expires on the 16th. Every sandwich with that chicken salad, regardless of when it's made, should have a disposal date no later than the 16th, but we're still marking them for 7 days out from when they're assembled.

A new-new tub of chicken salad arrived Thursday that expires on the 17th. Anything made with that tub should have a disposal date no later than the 17th. I guarantee they'll be marked 7 days out regardless of when they're assembled.

-

And like, if I were officially put in charge of these things I would implement these changes and put in a request for food bins immediately but I'm not in charge.

I already solved one minor problem. When I first started she would tell me to make as many sandwiches as there was bread in the bag because she hates trying to keep the bread fresh in the cooler.

Buns are in big, long, weirdly shaped bags for restaurants I guess, and they're difficult to close once you've ripped a hole in the middle to get to the bread.

I open the bags on a corner and tie the bags shut when I'm done.

... That was it. I just tie the bags shut, and the bread keeps longer.

Like.....

I'm so frustrated. Just let me fix it......

[cutiepieautistic]

A diy stim toys made out of trash/scrap parts ideas masterpost:

Bead ring:

What you'll need:

Scrap/left over/defective/trash beads(that are still usable!)

Any metal or firm cord(you can also use string or yarn!)

Put all of your desired beads together in any small but not too small container or containers(extra points if they or the containers are thrifted/second hand!)

You may separate these by color,if you so please.

String the beads onto the cord/string/etc etc. If you use a split ring,you will need a screwdriver to hold it open.

Tie the cord/string/etc into a knot for closure. If you use a split ring,you won't need to close it once the beads are on,aslong as the metal isn't too bent out of shape! If you use a binder ring,you will need to snap it back shut.

Shaker:

You will need a piece of clear semi soft plastic,small non sharp beads or other small noise making objects,pieces of hard or soft felt,fabric or super glue,and a thread and needle.

Alternatively,you can use two bottle caps and seed beads,or small second-hand or scrap plastic containers.

For the first one,you will need to cut the plastic into a square or rectangler shape.

Then you will need to cut out square or rectangler pieces of firm felt,and sew them all into a square or rectangle,using an invisible or back stitch.

Once you have sewn the base of the shaker together,turn it inside out. After you have done this,fill your shaker up with the desired amount of beads.

Make sure to leave just enough space for your beads to move around,or it won't be a true shaker!

After this,

Take the clear plastic,and glue it to all four sides of the top of your felt box,which should be facing you. Think of it like the lid of a box. Make sure to pinch the sides slightly and allow it to fully dry before shaking it,so no beads stick to the uncured glue,and the plastic doesn't fall off!

For the second version,you will need to fill one bottle cap with a small amount of beads,just enough to make noise,but not enough to fill it to the brim!

Apply a small amount of super glue to the entire brim of the plastic bottle cap,and attach it carefully to the brim of the other bottle cap,making sure to keep it even and not to get any beads stuck to side. After it cures fully,you can give it a test shake!

Alternatively, you may fill a small plastic container or even an plastic easter egg with the fillers of your choice,and make sure to secure the edges with super glue afterward!

Shrinky dinks:

You will need clear number 6 plastic

Paint markers or sharpies

A pair of scissors

A hole puncher

String or cord

A completely flat,heavy book

Think of what kind of design you want to make,and draw it on the plastic. You can draw it first on paper,then use that as a reference first,if you so please.

You can draw the linart with a dark color first,then paint the colors on the other side to avoid any mistakes.

Carefully cut out the shape. Make sure to draw a large enough design,so it will translate well in a smaller size and be easier to cut out.

Make sure to leave space for the hole to punch out!

Use your hole puncher to cut out a hole at the top,to attach the string or cord to!

Preheat the oven to the official shrinky dink safe temperature. Prepare a pan with parchment paper. Place your shrinky design on the parchment paper,away from the edges of the Pan.

Once your oven is ready,grab your pan and put it into the oven. Watch as your design shrinks.

Once it is fully shrinked,immediately take it out of the oven using oven mitts. Quickly take your flat,heavy book and lay it on top of the charm,to keep it completely even and flat while it cures completely.

Wait a few minutes for it to cool down,then attach your string or cord through the hole to the charm.

You may use resin or clear gloss/sealent spray to seal in your design.

(THIS POST IS A WORK IN PROGRESS!!!)

[omies-odd-writing-spot]

Lifeboat 11 Slow Morning

[Also on Ao3]

Wholesome stuffs ahead! be warned~!

Chapter Eleven:

Lana was pretty sure if there was magic, she was staring at it. 

Magic was a science you did not understand yet? Right? 

Lana definitely did not understand what she was seeing. Close, but not fully understanding how it worked, and Sesa admitted to not knowing more than the basics of ‘it stores energy.’ She was very careful not to touch the wide rock in the inset of the table she was sitting beside. It was some sort of wood, but carved not twenty minutes ago by the giant woman. Simple and more desk like, with two thick solid legs on either side instead of thinner four legs designs. Big enough that Lana could sit or stand beside it, mostly because the top was in two levels. Likely from how the wood was cut. It made an interesting half table, half countertop with each half being several feet long and wide. The lower section beside the ‘step’ had a curved bowl-like section that was filled with some black sand from the main cooking area. The wide, foot or so ‘chip’ of almost shale like rock resting on that, and producing heat seemingly from nowhere.

“Should I make you a better table?” Sesa offered from where she was standing in front of the cooking stove top on the other side of the sink from Lana.

“It’s working,” Lana assured, examining the clay dishes that came from the store. If she remembered right, it was the store owner’s daughter that made them? They were a pretty light blue color, but had multi blue speckles all over on the inside and outside with the glaze. It was about the size of a large cake pan to Lana, in a rough rectangle shape with rounded edges. Without any other cooking pans, she had it on top of the ‘heat stone’ as Sesa explained to heat up.

Where the other, slightly too big clay and wood dishes came from Lana was not sure, but she had used a few to get some of the butter and oil from Sesa. It was a bit awkward to reach into an offered, gigantic dish, and bowl to get the things. Lana wondered if she could make a set of dishes a bit better, or how long that would take to do. 

Thankfully she had a few small utensils in her bag, from the lifeboat ration packets. As well as a few leftover chopsticks from the day of the fairy and just having a bad habit of hoarding them in her backpack. They were at least clean, and even if the other utensils were plastic it was something. 

“You asked for sweetener? Sugar?” Sesa’s voice spoke up again, looking over at the spot on the counter that was now for Lana’s set up. Tilting her head to watch the bitta cutting up one of the berries from the day before. 

Lana looked up, brightening up, “Yes please!”

Sesa could not help but smile, looking down at the tan colored sugar in its container. Paused and then picked up a spoon to scoop some and offer near the tiny table. Sesa still thought she could do better, but was noticing how Lana was using the upper section to organize the full cups and bowls. The bitta was picking up one of the empty cups from the Weaver’s home that SEsa took to make it look like a bitta had…come.

Wow, her habits were going to be confusing, with a real bitta around.

Lana was walking over and carefully filling one of the wooden bowls with the sugar. The human had to pick up the crystals and stack them in the bowl really, looking a bit confused then impressed. Lana held up one of the larger crystals, amazed as she held it to the light from the nearest window looking at the shimmering golden tan color that was mostly transparent. “Wow… I didn’t know sugar could have crystals as big as this.”

“Yeah?” Sesa blinked, looking again at the spoon and what lana was picking out, “Oh, I did not process this bag, it’ll have different sizes. All done?”

“Yep!” Lana looked at her heaping bowl of the assorted big sugar crystals. She giggled and walked back to the back to her table. “It shouldn't be hard to break down.”

Sesa stared at the spoon for a moment, then had an idea. Putting the spoon in the sweetener container. “I have an Idea… I don’t through away several things… here you stay here.”

Lana tilted her head, puzzled, but shrugged as she watched Sesa walk away from the ‘stovetop’ in the counter and walked to one of the buffet-like hutches along the wall. One looked to have some dishes and other such cooking things like. It was closer to the counter and where Sesa had pulled a pan out of. The second had what looked like different storage containers, and Sesa reached up into the top cabinet shelf, pulling down a sanded and oiled stained wooden crate. Much smaller than the one from the boat, the clinking of glass inside had Lana's attention and curiosity.

“What's that?” 

Sesa chuckled as she came back, setting the box down by the sink and then checked her own pan. The butter inside was melting but not fully ready. Turning back, Sesa picked up a few of the smallest of the glass jars inside, a little bit dusty but the inside was clean as she showed the Bitta. “So, I come across a decent amount of wishboats. Some put goodies inside instead of a letter, like shiny shells, rocks or some of these. Little jars used in the bigger towns and cities.” 

Lana hesitated before daring to come over, though she had her spare shorts on and her own swimsuit on, it felt weird walking around. Or rather walking around on someone else's countertop with a swimsuit instead of clothes that were drying in the sun on the table. Not that Sesa seemed to mind or notice so likely it was just her own hangups. Lana looked at what was offered, picking up what looked like a big fancy jar at a craft store. 

It was about a foot tall and wide for Lana and made of a clear, slightly blue tinted glass. With a glass lid that sat over the top and would twist a bit, but that was now partly between Sesa's fingers. The jar is just slightly oblong, like it was handmade.

Finger-made?

Lana bit back the giggles and set the jar down, taking the other two from Sesa's hand and looked them over. One was about the same size, the other a little taller. It reminded her of those little single surviving jars of jam and honey from some restaurants.

“Maybe you can use them to store some dry stuff your size?” Sesa offered, thought for a moment and added, “Your size… stores… flour is the same- ah… so you have something and not depend on me? For everything that is.”

The tiny Bitta looked up, watching the bigger woman before grinning and laughed. Covered her mouth, before gathering herself and grinned, “I think I know what you mean. This is a good idea, not that I have a lot of things any more, but cooking on my own is nice.”

“I was thinking,” Sesa set a few jars down and used one that did not have a lid to scoop some of the cake batter from her bowl. Made sure it did not have any big drippings before setting it on the lower section of Lana’s current table. Sesa snorted, “I’ve been having to think a lot more than normal really, this last day.”

“Tell me about it,” Lana agreed in a low voice to herself, daring to taste the batter. Not moving to cook it though as she gathered up the peach slices to put in the pan. Looking up to show that she was still listening to Sesa though, even as she picked up one of the crystals of sugar. Getting a nice solid seeming ‘cup’ and one of the slightly too big bowls. 

“Is that crate from yesterday an okay size for you?” Sesa asked, watching how Lana was improvising the bowl and cup like a minuscule mortar and pestle. Breaking the large sugar into what seemed like a fine powder, and sprinkled it onto the cut up berry. ‘Peach’ as the bitta called it.

What was she doing?

“I guess? It's like a big high ceiling, but small store? Big room.” Lana said, using the chopsticks to help stir the fruit and get it to cook and caramelize with the sugar. 

“I was thinking, I can move a few things and attach the lid, make a door. Would it be okay for you to have your own space?” Sesa asked, starting to make her own cakes on her pan. It felt nice to talk and cook with someone else around, not exactly like when John was there. He liked to cook with Sesa but at the same time with the damage to his vocal cords the man was not inclined to talk a lot, but did like to listen.

Lana paused to look up, startled and then thought about it, turning to look over at where the crate of safety had been placed on the massive table. “Would it be safe? Okay? From here it looks like the crate takes up a lot of space.”

Sesa glanced back, “I just made it not long ago, three days ago? It wasn’t used for any fish yet. Just you’ve been in there.”

“Will it bit trouble?” Lana asked unsure.

Sesa hummed and looked down, golden eyes soft, “I can put it between some of the pots, and one on top. With the lid on it would look like a plant stand. Your door could be hidden too.”

“I kinda like that idea.” Lana thought, and then asked, “What about light?”

“I should have some little light crystals that are used in the bitta house… models. Garden houses?”

Lana giggled again, paused herself as she almost belatedly recognized what was said. “Light… crystal?”

“It’s old fashioned, like the hot rocks, but I don’t have to worry about that electric stuff.” Sesa hummed, “Long as I let the crystals recharge in daylight, its a good way to keep things lit at night. Some of the chips are small enough for you. To light what you want. We can play with it. Maybe use some of the stuff from the garden to give you rooms. Won't be hard to make something either. I have a lot of workable wood and soft stone.”

“You make it sound easy,” Lana looked up, the peach slices turning a nice dark color instead of the paper kind. She moved to get it all gathered up in a smooth wooden bowl. Getting as much juice, now syrup as she could before adding some more butter. She started to make some of the cakes herself as Lana did not feel sick from the batter. Though she had eaten the bread the day before.

“It is?” Sesa answered, “I've been making… little Bitta things for a long time. And it's… fun to make small things when in down time. More so in winter. It might not be exactly what you're used to though.”

Lana thought of the fairy garden decorations she regularly saw in craft stores. “That's fine, and from what little I saw from the table, in those pots, it looked cute.”

“You're not bothered?” Sesa asked but seemed relieved.

“A hobby is a hobby,” Lana shrugged, honestly it that bothered now that she linked it to the fairy gardens. “It doesn't seem like you're hurting anyone as far as I can tell.”

“Do you have any hobbies?” Sesa asked, wondering to herself what Lana did to the berry and sugar. It did not look like a jam exactly.

“Mostly around plants. Getting cuttings from trees to root and grow is fun.” Lana paused as she thought about it, she did like landscaping now. “I like… liked going on some hikes, seeing what animals and plants I can identify. I used to also go foraging with friends but we didn't do it last fall because of finals.” 

“I've gotten good at foraging,” Sesa chuckled, but did not expand on it.

“Yet there's a ton of corn growing wild,” Lana grinned up, some of those bigger ones are… hot damn the kernels from those are almost as big as my pinky! You could use them like rice. Others seemed fresh, like they grew decent, others were dried? How they did that in the same plant is fascinating!”

Sesa laughed softly, pausing to give the Bitta an amused expression. Not fully understanding all that was said, the words yes, but terms? References to kernels and…corn… “What is rice?”

Lana gasped, looking up, almost missing to flip her little drop sized cakes. “You don't have rice? It's…it's like a whole seed, really good in half of every food dish I know. This is weird…”

“Whole seeds…. Like grain seeds?” Sesa asked, giving her pan an experimental shake to see how the cakes were cooking and if they would slide yet. Look around the giant woman reached for a small jar to the side of the sink and set it near but not right beside Lana. “Like these? I sometimes find whole seeds in the flour.”

Lana stared, looking puzzled as she started to step over. Remembered what she was doing and got her sized cakes in a bowl-plate. Then she moved to look inside the jar through the tinted glass. Marveling at the, to her, massive seeds that were at least the size of her own hand. It would be about grain or rice size to the giant, as wheat was to Lana. “This… is a grain?”

“One of… two? Three?” Sesa paused, “I think there's three. I never got a chance to grow them. What's here is just what I found in the flour, not sure they can sprout.”

“They don’t look bad,” Lana tilted her head back and forth as she studied what could be done through the glass. The lid was just that bit too heavy for Lana to move on her own, and at a sound from above, backed up to let Sesa lift the heavy chunk of glass that was the lid. As it was set aside, and the giant woman turned back to her pan again, Lana reached in. Just able to lift one of the seeds out to look over, sniffing it and inspecting the massive thing.

“Judgment?” Sesa asked, chuckling as she plated up her pancakes. Looking for the bigger jar for the honey.

“I think they can sprout, they don’t smell rancid or seem bad,” Lana hummed, setting the seed back in the ‘little’ jar almost as tall as she was. Lana really had to fight the cat-like instinct to want to see what she could fit into now in this gigantic place. 

“Everything cooked?” Sesa asked, looking at the little table and seeing how Lana nodded, “Lets eat before getting your area set up, and make some furniture for you, today.”

“That sounds like a plan!” Lana smiled, trying to be positive as she dumped the caramelized fruit into the bigger curved plate. She blinked as a massive hand was held mostly flat for Lana, still needing a moment to brace herself, carefully climbing on the hand. “This is so strange.”

“Mhm,” Sesa agreed, trying her damned best to keep both hands steady, one with the bitta, the other her breakfast.

[sssammich]

fic: rituals ch 3

ch 1 | ch 2

read on ao3

thanks x

---

Life over at Mifflin Street has settled into a kind of controlled chaos, a haphazard sense of peace, as Emma ingratiates herself in Regina’s home. But it’s not just her home anymore, is it?

The three of them: Regina, Henry, and Emma maneuver around each other in a home that had gone through stages of emptiness, filling every nook and cranny with laughter and conversation and stories and life. All that Regina had ever wanted and more. Once, she may have thought that all the house had room for was simply for her and her son. And for a time, perhaps. 

Yet as soon as Emma made her stay more permanent at the mansion, it was as if the house itself had shed its old skin and made itself new again. 

Nowadays, she finds herself in lockstep with her son and his other mother as they get ready for their days, as they reconvene for dinner, as they congregate in the living room to spend what she knows are precious and finite quality time together. It is a dance that Regina enjoys stepping into more and more each day. It is a pleasant anchor in Regina’s life as she navigates her days in Storybrooke between crises and curses. 

Tonight, she stands in front of her kitchen island, pan in one hand and tongs in the other, as she fills three glass containers with sauteed greens atop a bed of mashed potatoes and meatloaf. She’s not sure when the third container started making its appearance on the counter, but she knows she adjusts her groceries not too long after. 

The memory flashes in her mind. She recalls the sheepish way Emma had asked if there were any other leftovers she could take with her to work for the next day. She’d picked up a plastic takeout container and put it a few inches away from the glass containers that Regina prepared for her and Henry. 

Her heart ached when Emma shrugged and busied herself with something in the refrigerator just as she spoke. “Just if there’s any left. But if not, I can probably pick something up from Granny’s,” she’d said into the fridge. Regardless, Regina had heard her. On the surface, it appeared like a nonchalant request, and maybe it was. Yet Regina couldn’t help but wonder how deep and practiced this kind of request was to Emma. 

Thankfully, she hadn’t yet scooped the last square of lasagna to join the one already in her glass container. So she placed it in the plastic bowl that Emma put on the counter.  When she’d put the lids on all three containers and stacked them on top of each other, Emma’s cylindrical bowl right on top of Regina and Henry’s rectangle glassware, she caught the agreeable grin on Emma’s face. 

“Cool, thanks.” 

“You can thank me by not running my electricity bill.” 

Emma’s response came out in a breathy chuckle, stepping aside so Regina could place their lunch for the next day in the fridge, and then gently closed the door. 

Shaking herself back into the present, her head perks up when she hears Emma exclaim in outrage followed by Henry’s victorious cackling. A twitch of a smile threatens to break from the corner of her mouth as a result. 

Just as she rinses the empty pan in the sink and places it in the dishwasher, she hears muffled footsteps start from the living room and end somewhere behind her, Emma and Henry’s voices grow louder as they enter the kitchen, claims of cheating and abhorrent rules thrown around. 

“Why are you two so loud?” she asks by way of greeting once she’s shut the dishwasher and turned it on. 

“He started it.” 

Henry’s jaw drops, his face a contortion of confusion and betrayal. 

“Mom, Emma doesn’t know the rules to gin rummy.” 

“I do, too. However way you’re playing it doesn’t make sense.” 

“Mom taught me!” 

“Well then your Mom’s wrong.” Emma then turns to face her, her arms up in her indignation, though the glinting hint of mischief in those green eyes betrays her outrage. “So you’re the one ruining our son’s bright mind with incorrect rules. What’s next, are you gonna tell me that it’s not allowed to stack Draw 4 cards in Uno?” 

Regina leans her hip against the counter and raises a brow, in a move that communicates you wanna try that again?

Emma leans forward, her biceps in full display as she rests her body on her elbows in her sleeveless t-shirt that she only wears at home. It’s a tattered thing, an ultra faded Fleetwood Mac merchandise shirt with its sleeves sheared off that Regina insists with every wash would do better as a cleaning rag than a shirt to wear. But Emma defends it for its sentimental value despite the three small holes on the back and the growing one on the side of its collar. Something about finding it in a thrift store after her release from prison and thinking it was a sign that maybe her life was turning around. 

Nevertheless, even as Regina scrunches her face at its appearance, she can’t deny how little she minds when she bears witness to Emma’s comfort here. Truth be told, she’d wondered and feared that whatever comfort the other woman felt during her temporary stay would change when Emma accepted her offer to stay at the mansion. She’s glad that in the three weeks since, Emma has only grown more relaxed. 

It’s an observation she keeps tucked just under her tongue, not wanting to voice anything for fear that Emma might change course at being noticed, but still willing to share if Emma shared first. 

“Regina, are you even listening?”

“What’s that, dear?” finally snapping back to attention. 

Emma tilts her head, and when Regina glances beside her, Henry is sporting a similar expression. Like mother, like son. 

“I said, why don’t you go get cleaned up and I’ll finish up down here.” 

She sighs, suddenly her body weighed down by the stresses of the day. “Alright, thank you. Come on, Henry, time for bed.” 

He pouts but lets his Mom hold him by the shoulder and usher him out of the kitchen and towards the staircase. She releases his hold of him when he sprints up the stairs. Then, she glances back into the kitchen where she discovers Emma closing the glass containers with their lids, a satisfied smile on her face.

Regina kisses Henry goodnight when they reach the upstairs landing before she walks herself to her en suite to wash the day away. Once she’s cleaned herself of the stresses of her day, she slips into her silken pajamas before perching herself by her vanity where she conducts her nighttime skincare routine.

She doesn’t realize her door is opened slightly ajar until she hears a knock on the door and Emma filling in the sliver of space between the door and the jamb. 

“Hey,” Emma greets, her hand resting on the door knob. Regina glances up and watches Emma through her mirror, not quite stopping her application of moisturizer. 

“Something the matter?” 

Emma just shakes her head, though her eyes are unreadable at this moment. Regina chalks it up to the trick of the light and Emma’s mirrored reflection. “No, I just wanted to say goodnight.” 

Even with brows furrowed, she gives Emma a small smile. “Goodnight.” 

When Emma doesn’t immediately depart from her spot by the door, and instead stands there slightly hunched as she worries her bottom lip between her teeth, Regina’s hands completely still and she swivels her vanity stool so she’s properly facing her. 

“You look like you want to say more than goodnight,” she observes, trying to maintain some levity in her voice. 

“I—yeah. Actually, I was gonna thank you for getting me some more Gatorade. I was gonna do it this weekend, but forgot. So, uh, thanks.” 

Regina lets out an airy chuckle, crossing her legs at the knee and resting her elbow on said knee. “It’s hardly a bother. Henry seems to like them, too, so it just made sense.” 

Emma nods. “Right. Right. Well, anyway. Thanks.” 

“You’re welcome.” 

“Okay, goodnight.” 

“Night, Emma.” 

Thinking that’s the end of it, she slowly turns back to face the mirror, expecting the click of her door to sound behind her. Yet, it doesn’t come. When she glances up to watch from her mirror, Emma’s still there. 

“Were you thinking of also thanking me for the Pop-Tarts?” she jokes. 

“Would you wanna join me for lunch tomorrow? It’s David’s day off, so it’s just me at the station.” 

She twists her vanity chair again until she’s looking directly at Emma. Her knee jerk reaction is to tease by asking if this was a date, but she bites her tongue, not wanting to let escape such a wayward fantasy. Not when Emma’s just starting to feel at home here. 

“Sure,” she offers instead. “I have a meeting until noon, then I can head over after.” 

Emma’s face breaks into a goofy grin, one that Regina notes she’s definitely seen on their son plenty of times before. “Yeah, definitely.” 

“Anything else?” she prods, just in case. 

This time, Emma shakes her head, her shoulders squared up and broad, opposite of her hunch just moments prior. “Nope,” she says, the ‘p’ popping. “Night, Regina.” 

“Goodnight, dear.” 

Finally, Emma shuts the door completely leaving Regina with just her reflection. She listens to the soft padding steps Emma takes to the opposite side of the hall towards her room until she hears the faint squeak of the door and an almost imperceptible click. 

Regina stills for a moment before turning back to face the mirror to complete her nightly regimen. So what if she chews the corner of her mouth to stop herself from smiling as she faces herself. That’s nobody’s business but her own.

[oftlunarialmoon]

How to Make DIY Doll Swimming Pool -2 Methods/Designs- One Holds Water!

Ciao lovelies! Today we're making swimming pools for mini dolls! I have two methods to show you today. One can actually hold water! The other is for toys that should not go in water, like Calico Critters.

WARNING- These DIY's use a Hot Glue Gun. Even low temp hot glue guns can get quite hot so please if you are younger, get adult supervision when making these crafts. 

What You'll Need for Both Methods:

You will need:

- Hot Glue Gun + Hot Glue

- Popsicle sticks in normal and jumbo size

-A disposable plastic container like a Num-Noms Dippers container

- Craft foam in various colors

- Small toys like Calico Critters and Monster High Minis to measure size

- Scissors (Not Pictured)

For this method you need Blue Craft Foam, and Popsicle sticks. 

Step One:

Start with a rectangle of Blue Craft foam. If you need to, cut it down to the size you would like. This size is the standard size in a multi-pack from Walmart.

Step Two:

Hot glue down a "frame" of Popsicle sticks around the perimeter of the blue foam. 

Step Three:

Keep stacking and gluing more Popsicle sticks around the border until it's tall enough to be a reasonable "pool" for your mini dolls.

This pool is best for mini dolls like Calico Critters, which shouldn't go in real water.

But if you do want real water in your pool for other mini dolls....

How to Make Mini Doll Pool Method 2- That can Hold Water

For this method you will need a disposable plastic container, craft foam, and Popsicle sticks.

Step One:

Cut out a ladder out of craft foam in your desired color.

Step Two:

Hot glue popsicle sticks to the sides of the ladder. 

Step Three:

Add your desired decorations to the pool. I added a "bat" bow made of craft foam. (PS- Want a Bat Bow tutorial? Leave a comment!)

And You're Done!

This pool can actually hold water! Perfect for your plastic mini dolls to cool off this summer!

What do you think of these DIY's? Will you be making either of these pool methods? Let me know in the comments!

[yuneu]

share baguette recipe with us please 🥺♥️

ok SO

i have 2 recipes let me share both, one easy one harder. the units are french ones cause they’re the ones i know, you can convert them easily online.

the first recipe is the hard « proper » one, the second one is the quicker, easier one :)

baguettes are actually pretty diverse, but the real baguette is called « baguette tradition » and it’s regulated. most recipes online are for baguettes in general, so if you want one that tastes like what you’d buy in a parisian bakery there are Rules lol. the recipe i use when im at home and have access to a proper oven is this one

stuff you need:

- a stand mixer (w a dough hook)

- baguette tray

ingredients:

- 500g tradition flour (or wheat t65)

- 370g water (60 degrees celsius)

- 100g natural leaven (liquid)

- 3g fresh yeast

- 10g salt

instructions:

1. mix a bit of your water (320g) w the flour in a stand mixer with the dough hook for 3 min on low speed. make sure there is no flour left or keep going until it’s p much absorbed

2. let it rest for 1 hour

3. add the leaven, yeast, and salt, and knead with the stand mixer for 7 minutes on low speed

4. slowly(!!) add the remaining water in a thin stream

5. knead on speed 2 for 1 min or until the dough pulls away from the sides

6. put the dough to a plastic container or a baking dishh

7. cover the container/dish with a cloth and let it rest for 1 hour at room temperature

8. fold the dough over itself from all four sides, working around the dough

9. cover w some plastic wrap and put it in the fridge for like 12 to 15h

10. the next day turn the dish onto a floured surface

11. cut the dough into 3 equal parts & shape them into rectangles

12. fold the top side of the dough over two-thirds of its length

13. fold the other side over the same length

14. roll it once and let it rest for 1 hour on a floured cloth.

15. after the rest fold the dough again in the same way, two-thirds each time

16. fold the dough in half along its entire length one last time, then roll it into a baguette shape with your hands. be careful though cause the dough will elongate so make sure not to form baguettes longer than your oven lmao

17. let the baguettes rest on the floured cloth for 1 hour, placing the seam side up. In the meantime, preheat the oven to 250°c w a baguette tray and a drip tray

18. just before baking, turn the baguettes one by one onto a pizza peel and slide them onto the baguette tray

19. make slashes on the top using some kind of blade idk i use a big ass meat knife

20. put the baguettes in the oven and pour a glass of water into the drip tray. close the oven immediately to trap the steam

21. bake for 30 minutes.

22. let the baguettes cool on a wire rack for 30 minutes to 1h before eating. i dont don’t do that most of the time though lmao i just wait until it’s cooled down enough to eat cause warm baguette >>>>

the simpler version (« baguette magique » aka « magic wand » lol) that you can actually do if you’re not hellbent on making Real French Baguette lmao

ingredients:

- 375g of flour (T45)

- 300ml lukewarm water

- 12g fresh bakers yeast

- 1 teaspoon fine salt

instructions :

1. dissolve the yeast in a little lukewarm water in a bowl, let it rise for 5 minutes, then add the remaining water

2. put the flour on top followed by the salt

3. mix everything roughly with a spatula

4. let it sit for about 1h30 while covering it with a cloth, either at room temperature or in an oven at 40°c. the dough should just about double in volume but not necessarily FULLY so don’t worry

5. preheat the oven to 240°c (about 8 on a scale of 10)

6. place a container of water in the oven so the steam released during baking will help create a crispy crust (you can spray some more every now n then as it bakes to make it extra crispy)

7. pour out the dough ob a flour work surface

8. shape your baguettes without overworking the dough cus it’s gonna be sticky

9. bake for 30 minutes

10. done :)

[angelkin-food-cake]

Cuccidati (Italian Fig Cookies)

Filling:

1 cup packed soft dried figs (8 oz.), hard tips discarded

¾ cup raisins (3¾ oz.), plumped

¾ cup mild honey

¼ cup brandy

1½ tsp. finely grated fresh orange zest

1 tsp. finely grated fresh lemon zest

1 Tbsp. ground cinnamon

¼ tsp. ground cloves

¼ tsp. freshly grated nutmeg

¾ cup whole almonds (4 oz.), toasted and coarsely chopped

¾ cup walnuts (3 oz.), toasted and coarsely chopped

Dough:

4 cups all-purpose flour

1 cup plus 2 Tbsp. sugar

1 Tbsp. baking powder

1 tsp. salt

2 sticks (1 cup) cold unsalted butter, cut into ½-inch cubes

2 large eggs, lightly beaten

½ cup whole milk

1½ tsp. vanilla

1 tsp. finely grated fresh orange

Icing:

1 cup confectioners sugar

½ tsp. vanilla

1½ to 2 Tbsp. fresh orange juice

A few drops of natural orange oil (optional but very good)

Make the filling: Pulse the figs and raisins in a food processor until finely chopped, then stir together with the remaining filling ingredients in a bowl. Chill, covered, at least 8 hours. The filling can be made 1 week ahead and chilled, covered.

Make the dough: Whisk together the flour, sugar, baking powder, and salt in a large bowl. Add the butter and blend with your fingertips or a pastry blender (or pulse in a food processor) just until the most of the mixture resembles coarse meal with some small (roughly a pea-size) butter lumps. Add the eggs, milk, vanilla, and zest and stir with a fork (or pulse in the food processor) until a soft dough forms (starts to form – for the food processor method; do not over process). Halve the dough and gather each half into a ball, then flatten each half into a rough 6- by 4-inch rectangle between sheets of plastic wrap. Chill until firm, at least 8 hours. The dough can be chilled, wrapped in plastic wrap and then foil, up to 3 days.

Form the cookies: Center an oven rack and preheat oven to 350°F. Line a large baking sheet with parchment paper or silicone mat. Set aside.

Roll out 1 rectangle of dough (keep the remaining dough chilled) into a 1/8-inch thick rectangle, about 15- by 14-inch, on a well-floured surface with a floured rolling pin. Trim the edges to form a rectangle with one side exactly 13-inches long; another side can be as long as it can be assuming you rolled it evenly thin (chill the trimmings). Then cut the 13-inch side into 4 (3 1/4-inch-wide) strips. Arrange a little bit less than 1/8 of all filling in a 1-inch-wide log lengthwise down the center of each strip, then fold the sides of each strip up over the filling to enclose it, pinching edges together to seal. Turn the rolls seam-sides down and press gently to flatten the seams. Chill the logs, covered with plastic wrap, for about half an hour before slicing and baking. Cut the logs crosswise with a sharp knife into 1 1/2-inch-wide slices and arrange 1/2 inch apart on the prepared baking sheet. Make more cookies in the same manner with the remaining chilled dough, trimmings (reroll once), and filling.

Bake the cookies, in batches, until golden around edges, about 30 minutes. Transfer the cookies to a cooling rack and cool until warm, about 10 minutes. Glaze until the cookies are still warm.

Make the icing while the first batch is baking: Whisk together the confectioners sugar, vanilla, and enough orange juice to make a pourable icing.

Brush the icing on the warm cookies. Let the icing to dry completely before packing the cookies for storing. The cookies keep, layered between sheets of parchment paper, in an airtight container at room temperature for 1 week.