#pro tip: give him celery

[green-scout-tf2]

*holds couple carrots*🥕🥕🥕🥕🥕

Ya want some? :D

No!

Im not actually a bunny!

Ya all suck!

[7/10]

[sherrybaby14]

Put Your Lips Together And...

Summary:  You’re not ready to go all the way, but want to take it to the next level with your new boyfriend.  

Pairing:  Steve Rogers x Reader

Warnings:  I have chosen not to list warnings,  read this at your own risk.

Words: 1000

A/N:  I haven’t written anything in about six weeks, this is just me trying to dip my toe back into fanfic.  Sorry if I am a little rusty.  

   His lips felt like heaven as they pressed to yours.  You welcomed his tongue into your mouth with a moan.   Steve’s hands went to your shirt, tugging at the hem.  

   “Mmm.”  You pulled back and pressed your forehead to his, grabbing his wrist.  

   “Sorry.”  He cupped your cheek and kissed you.  “I know you want to take it slow.”

   His hand vanished from your shirt.   Captain Rogers, always the gentlemen.  

   “I’m not ready yet.”  You licked your lips as you stood up from the couch, grabbing his hand.  “But maybe we could do some other stuff.”  

   “Oh?”  He rose, raising an eyebrow as you gave him a wink.  

   “I enjoy your mouth so much.”  You turned and led him toward your bedroom.  

   “And I do yours.”  Steve let out a chuckle.  

   “Well maybe you’ll enjoy it on other body parts?”  You flipped on the light in your room as you turned to face him.  

   “Please, I mean, yes.  I would enjoy that.”  Steve wiped his beard, trying to hide the grin.  “And I think you would enjoy my mouth too, on other places.”

   You didn’t try to hide the grin as your lips found his again.  Steve’s kiss was powerful, and you tried to match it, both of you tugging at each other’s clothing, eager to your mouths back together, feel your bare skin pressed to each other.  

   Now that your limits were out there, all awkwardness vanished.   The liquid pooling at your core matched the hardness of his cock, springing free from his last piece of clothing.  

   You pressed his shoulders and he sat down on the bed.  

   “Fuck.”  He bit his lip as his eyes took you in.  “I don’t swear, but you are…..FUCK!”  

   His blue eyes flashed when they ran up your body.  

   “Can I go first?”  Steve licked his lips.  “I want to taste every drop of you.”  

   You almost acquiesced, but you were hungry for him too.   So you dropped to your knees and put your hands on his, parting his thighs as you took in the sight of his cock.  

   “Wait your turn.”  You slid your nails down the inside of his thigh, coming to his dick you wrapped your fingers around the base.  

   Your breath was getting heavier, and you shook as you tried to calm yourself down.   You needed to save your air.   Swallowing hard you looked up at him.  

   Steve’s eyes were glossed over with need.  It was now or never.  

   You pushed your lips together and started at the tip.  

   “Pheeeww.”  You let out some oxygen.  

   “Ugh.”  Steve let out a grunt.  

   You increased the pressure, blowing more air at his cock, keeping it close to your face, but not enough to touch your lips.  

   “PHEWWW.”  You blew harder, throwing all the air in your lungs at his cock as you moved down, making sure you were hitting the underside.  

   “Your lungs are amazing.”  Steve’s head dropped back.  

   His praise fueled you and you sucked in a deeper breath.    

   “PHEWWWWWW!!!”  This time you blew at him with as much force as possible, imagining you were filling up a balloon.  

   “That feels.”  Steve ran a hand over his hair.  “So good!  If you don’t slow down I’m going to embarrass myself.”  

   You switched up your technique.  Instead of one big long puff of air, you let out little spurts.  

   “This is the best blow job I’ve ever had.”  Steve’s thighs started to shake.  

   “We’re just getting started.  No cumming until I say.”  Your chest was heaving as you looked up at him.  “I’m prepared.”  

   You bit your lip at the confusion on his face as you reached under the bed and pulled out your chi stylist pro, plugged in and ready to go.  

   “Is that a…a hair dryer?”  Steve blinked away the confusion to excitement.  

   “Top of the line.”  You aimed the thing at his cock and turned on the low setting.  

   “FUCK!”  Steve’s hips jostled forward as the blow dryer did most of the work.  You added little puffs from behind, your lungs burning from the first session.  

   “Does that feel good?”  You loved the rush of power as you blasted his cock with the air.  

   “So good.  So fucking good baby.”   Steve bit his hand.  

   “Think you can handle more?”  Before he responded you turned up the setting to high.  

   “HOLY SHIT!”  Steve fell back on the bed.  

   You climbed up from your knees, making sure the air blew all over his body, not just his cock.  

   “I can’t…”. Steve was fisting the sheets.  “It’s too much.  Please…”.

   You loved the image of him, thrashing against your bed as you let the full force of the blow dryer drive him mad.  

   “You want to cum baby?”   You were smiling ear-to-ear at the tortured man.  

   “I’m going to.”  He almost convulsed.  

   “Not yet.”   You grabbed Steve’s hand and wrapped it around the handle.   “Keep working on yourself.  I have one more surprise.  Don’t finish yet.”  

   Steve let out a whimper, but kept the blow dryer on him.   You went to your closet.   The really special toy you’d gotten just for him, just for tonight.   You spun around with the thing in your hands.  

   The view was incredible.  Steve blowing himself on your body.  The air from the dryer torturing him, beads of sweat on his body as he fought the urge to cum.   It would be burned in your memory forever.  

   “Alright baby.”  You walked over to the bed, grabbed the cord of the engine with a ripppp.  

   “What?”  Steve looked up with a heavy chest as you brought the leaf blower to life.  “NO!”  

   “You can cum.”  You aimed the thing right at his cock.  

   “FUCK!”  Steve’s back arched and he dropped the hair dryer.  

   You blasted him with the leaf blower.  It took second before he was erupting like a fountain.   You leaned in trying to catch some beads of cum with your tongue, but most landed on his stomach.  

   He was a groaning mess, but you didn’t turn off the device until you were sure there wasn’t a drop of cum left inside of him.  

   Steve was shaking as you plopped down on the bed next to him.  

   “That was...the best blow job of my life.”   His eyes were shut.  

   You grabbed a towel and wiped up his mess, pleased with yourself and your surprises.   You cuddled up to him.  

   “Be right back.”  Steve kissed your head as he walked back into your apartment.  

   You curled up on your pillow, imagining he needed a minute to clean himself up.   Tonight was perfect.  You started to drift to sleep, eyes heavy from the blow job.  

   “Oh no Princess, it’s not bed time.”  Steve stood in the doorway with a giant bowl of food.  “My turn to eat you out.”  

   He held up a hot dog.   You looked at what he’d raided from your fridge, a cucumber, some grapes,  a banana,  some celery.  He dropped the meat back in and pulled out a popsicle, giving it a lick.  

   “Let’s start with this.”   He deep throated the sugary mess.  “It’ll taste delicious.”  

   You let out a squeal as he grabbed your ankle, more than ready to have the favor returned.  

A/N:  If you made it to the end of this congratulations!  APRIL FOOLS!!!! (Originally posted 4-1-2020). 

[merrykidgemas]

Under Wraps Pt. 3

AFTER A BILLION YEARS here you go

(on AO3)

"A little more up?"

Keith furrowed his brows but followed the instruction given to him anyway and lifted the sparkly tinsel higher. He only started climbing down the ladder after a smile appeared on Katie's face, a sure sign of satisfaction.

After petting Bae-Bae a little more, the girl wasted no time dragging Keith to the basement. Past the Holts' laboratory and rooms with strange glowing lights that spilled out from the cracks of closed doors, they found the boxes labeled "decorations" on all sides and carried them up. He proved himself to be quite useful, as Katie told him (quite begrudgingly) she wasn't exactly capable of reaching some parts of the house with just a ladder because of her height and "cursed short arms". Mrs. Holt didn't exactly approve of the idea of using platform shoes on rickety ladders.

Soon the house and the tree in the living room was covered with more shimmer and glimmer than Keith thought he could ever see in one lifetime. Every corner of the house glittered. Katie ushered the boy into the kitchen with Bae-Bae following behind them and grabbed two popsicles from the freezer, tossing one towards him which he caught with his left hand. Katie looked at him with surprise. "You're left-handed?"

"Ambidextrous, actually," he answered back casually as he peeled the wrapped off the treat to reveal to what he deduced was a watermelon flavored popsicle, "Oh, and thanks." The past hour, filled with minor squabbles about ornament placing and somewhat snarky but friendly banter, had helped the both of them get rid of the awkwardness from earlier that day. Now the two of them sat at the kitchen island eating in comfortable silence.

"Wait, I've got an idea!" Katie scooted off her stool and ran up the stairs, leaving Keith to stare in confusion at the dog underneath them who returned the look as well. After a few minutes of shuffling, she bounded down the stairs and ran up to him. She held up a case with anime graphics up to his face, giving him a very clear view of the cover. "Killerbot Phantasm I: Journey to the depths of the Demonsphere?"

Katie gave him an enthusiastic nod. "I've been looking for a worthy partner ever since Matt left and my parents are a bit busy so it's been a while since I've played it."

He turned away a bit sheepishly, "Well tough luck. I've never really played video games before." Not that he had the consoles to play anyway. He never really had the home to play in either...

But before Keith could put the popsicle back into his mouth, Katie led him by the arm into the living room with a confident grin. "Don't worry, you have me to guide you, young sapling. You'll be a pro in no time!"

Young sapling?

She sat him down on the couch, a little like how he sat her on his moped, and handed him a controller. After setting up the game, she sunk down into the cushions next to him as she gave tips and directions after he picked his hero of choice. The sword guy looked pretty cool. Katie chose a mage, saying that it was good support. Like with most things, he caught on quickly and soon they were rejoicing after beating the level 5 demon and high-fived each other.

"Wow, that was actually-"

"Pretty fun right?" she finished his sentence, eyes sparkling.

He couldn't help but laugh at her lively expression. Keith was about to ask if they could play another round when they heard the front door unlock.

"Katie?" The two walked to the front door where Mrs. Holt was carrying bags of groceries in her arms and cooing at Bae-Bae. When she looked up and spotted Keith she smiled. "Welcome Keith. I see you've helped with decorations. There is now way that Katie would've have reach that part of the wall."

Keith watch Mrs. Holt giggle as her daughter groaned at the comment and stormed off to put the groceries on the counter. "Uh, yeah. Thank you for having me over Mrs. Holt," he replied, feeling a bit awkward meeting someone new again. Well if she was Katie's mom, she couldn't be that bad he thought. He followed her into the kitchen where Katie was putting away groceries.

Mrs. Holt laughed again. "Katie you usually don't put away groceries unless I ask you to," she grinned mischievously. Katie saw that her mother's eyes glanced at Keith, who looked as confused as she was. The gears turned in her head, and because she was Katie, it soon clicked. Was she implying that she was only acting like a good daughter in front of guests?? The temerity! Not like she can really win against her mother's teasing this time around. Instead of replying to her remark, Katie just gave a small pout and returned to stuffing the celery into the fridge.

Keith sputtered, no actual words coming out from his mouth. He quickly turned around from the two and covered his mouth. He never thought such a reaction would ever come from him. It was just Katie's pouting face had caught him... so off guard? It was small and it only lasted a second but it was so painfully adorable that it send heat rushing to his face. What on earth was happening to him? "S-sorry," he coughed out, "dust from the uh- decorations."

"Speaking of decorations, you guys did a really nice job! If you're done, you can help me make dinner," Mrs. Holt said as she placed the last of the groceries into the cupboard.

At this, Katie jumped up and down excitedly. "Are you going to make your casserole?" When the woman nodded, she did a fist pump in the air and turned to Keith who was giving her a look of confusion. "Prepare yourself to taste the world's most mouth-watering scrumptious casserole you've ever tasted in this part of the galaxy."

"I'll take you word for it," he snorted playfully.

"I would never steer you wrong!" she threw her hands into the air as he laughed at her again.

Mrs. Holt looked at them from the other side of the kitchen and smiled at the two chattering. Maybe this time Katie had really found a new friend. Her eyes saddened at the thought of the past Katie crying in her arms after school but quickly concealed it and went back to washing vegetables. "I thought you kids were going to help me make 'the world's most mouth-watering scrumptious casserole you've ever tasted in this part of the galaxy'," she asked, pretending to be impatient as she crossed her arms.

"On it!" Katie opened a small cabinet and handed an apron to her mom. She put one on herself and Keith lowered his head so she put another one on him. "Ooh Chef Kogane in the kitchen," she teased as they began tying their aprons up. He laughed again, marveling at how easy it was for this girl to make him feel like everything was alright despite they've only known each other for a few hours. The atmosphere had never felt so cozy for him before. It felt a little strange of course, but he didn't feel like a stranger.

He felt oddly at home.

[rachaeloehring]

Something Old: “How To Roast A Chicken”

Originally posted on a long-lost blog called [abject] on May 3, 2015 (all old links are removed)

Oh my god, that guy you’ve been non-committally texting for the last 2 months is coming over tonight, and you told him you’d make dinner! Except you have little money, no time and even fewer cooking skills. Hey, maybe you should try roasting a chicken just like that French blogger you’ve been vision-boarding for the last year.

Simple, cheap, and hearty, roasted chicken is one of the those deceptively easy meals that will make you feel like even more of a failure when you inevitably fuck it up. (You’re totally going to fuck this up). It’s also a dish for any occasion: make this meal for someone you want to impress, someone you want to make jealous, or even when you just feel like shoving four pounds of meat into your face because your boss yelled at you in front of the hot dude in accounting at that meeting. Just follow these 10 easy steps, and you’ll have roasted chicken in no time (except it’s a lot of time, sorry):

First, you should buy a chicken. Ideally, it would come wrapped in brown paper and tied with twine because you bought it at the same boutique butcher in the Hamptons that Ina Garten frequents for those chickens she makes for Jeffrey in lieu of fucking him, but we all know you live in kind of a sketch area, so that vacuum-packed hen from Safeway will most likely have to do. When you eventually free your sadness chicken from its BPA coffin, don’t forget to do so over the sink, because the juices trapped in the plastic will be immediately released all over the general vicinity in which you are working, so make sure you’re in a spot that can be easily hosed down. Scientists aren’t 100% sure what exactly these fluids are, but some speculate that it’s the salmonella tears of the chicken from being stuffed into a small dog crate with 700 other birds for the duration of its short, miserable existence as it prays to its unfeeling bird god for the sweet, sweet release of death, and deliverance from the excruciating pain of both of its broken legs and busted beak. I dunno, at least that’s what the lady at Whole Foods says, but you wouldn’t know because you’re too much of a sadist to pay the extra $6 per pound for cage-free poultry.

After you get all the plastic off, you’re going to have to pull the guts out that were previously removed, cleaned and unceremoniously stuffed back into the carcass by some sort of robot that’s confused as to how chickens work. There’s most likely going to be a few weird red pieces and a bony little neck. Ina Garten would probably freeze these to use later for stock or something, but your freezer is stuffed full of Totino’s party pizzas, so just throw them away.

But seriously, don’t forget to take the trash all the way out tonight, because that shit will smell like a beached whale filled with the noxious gas of its rotting insides by tomorrow morning. Maybe also take this time to pre-heat your oven to 450 degrees. Your kitchen will smell like it’s on fire because the bottom of your oven is covered in burnt cheese from all the party pizzas, but the oven needs to be hot enough so that you get crispy skin and also the chicken gets cooked quickly enough that it doesn’t dry out. Basically you want the oven to be so hot that your eyelashes stick together when you blink while you’re taking the chicken out of the oven because your mascara melted to itself.

Now that you have your chicken unpacked and rinsed, you’re going to pat it dry with paper towels. This will help the skin crisp up and eventually burn when you inevitably forget about your meal because you went outside to have a protracted heart-to-heart with your ex about how he’s an alcoholic now. And also got this other girl pregnant and she’s keeping the baby. Once you stop crying, pat the chicken dry really, really well, outside AND inside. Yes, there will most likely be bits of wet paper left inside the chicken, but you’re trying, and that’s allegedly all that counts.

This is the step where you’re apparently supposed to truss the chicken? Let’s be honest, you’re never going to do this, and if you do, it’ll probably be with some red yarn you rustled up from your craft closet from when you went through that knitting phase, so let’s just skip it. Here’s a really complicated set of photos of the process if you’re feeling adventurous.

Now, for seasoning. You have herbs and shit, right? Salt and pepper at the very least? Just put a bunch of salt and pepper on the chicken. Like, a lot. That’s it. I mean, you could stuff a bunch of lemons and garlic and celery and shit inside the chicken, and rub it with softened butter and put fresh thyme and sage underneath the skin, but you can barely use a quart of milk up before it goes bad, so just stick with the salt and pepper. Put a good amount of salt and pepper on the outside AND inside of the chicken. Oh fuck, you trussed that shit, didn’t you? Whatever, I’m sure it’ll be fine, albeit dry and flavorless as a cruel reminder of your constant failure.

Now that you’ve seasoned the chicken, put it in your roasting pan. You do have a roasting pan, don’t you? Do you at least have that pie pan from the Marie Callender’s apple pie that you stress-ate in one sitting the other night? Just throw the chicken in there. This should go without saying, but make sure to at least rinse the pie pan out first so this isn’t a complete, unmitigated disaster.

Now that the chicken’s in the oven, leave it alone for the duration of a single Game of Thrones episode. Make sure it’s one of those mid-season expositionary ones so you’re not tempted to watch another, because you only wanna cook this thing for 50 minutes. At this point, your house will smell like you imagine Gwyneth Paltrow’s kitchen smells when her personal chef makes roasted chicken, and you’ll know the chicken is done when a thermometer reads 165 degrees when you stick it in the thigh. If you don’t have a meat thermometer (you don’t), you can also tell that it’s done if you poke a knife in the thigh and the juices that come out are clear and not bloody or pink. You will 100% freak out and think that the juices are, like, 1% pink and you’re going to die, but after all that time in a hot oven, there’s no way it’s not done, so just take it out already.

Now set the chicken on the counter and let it rest for at least 15 minutes so that the juices in the chicken can get soaked back up in the meat. This will make your chicken moist, and will also give you just enough time to try to get a picture of it for Instagram that doesn’t look like total garbage (PRO TIP: Roasted meats look best with the Valencia filter).

Great! You’ve got roasted chicken! You can either carve it if you’ve got company coming over, or just eat it with your hands if you’ve got a bottle of red wine and some feelings to eat. Julia Child would definitely approve.