#I make this like twice a month as a base to a dish it’s so good

[video-recipes]

Soy Sauce Chow Mein — cj.eats

[liminalmemories21]

Ficlet (911 - Buck/Tommy)

Inspired by this thirst trap

(and @cecilyv said this was sufficient unto itself and didn't need to go further)

He's three hours into a 48 when he gets the first one.

He's used to a string of texts, voice messages, videos from Evan when he gets back to base and has time to check his phone.  Doesn't think twice about clicking on this one.  Stares at it open mouthed, and then hits play again immediately.

Lucy peers over his shoulder and gives a low whistle.  "Damn."

From across the break room Garvey calls out.  "Share with the class."  When Tommy flips him off he adds.  "It's your duty."

He looks up at that.  "It's my duty to share the thirst traps my boyfriend sends me?"

Knows it was a mistake when Garvey gets up and comes over to lean against the back of the couch to try and see his phone.  He twists his head.  "Didn't know you played for this team, Garvey."

Garvey shoves at his shoulder.  "I don't, but I'm bored, and I wanna see what's making Donato's eyes bug out."  And, well, as thirst traps go it's ... well he's not sure what it is, but it's not showing anything Garvey couldn't see if he showed up at the 118 gym, so...  He hits play.

It is, technically speaking, a thirst trap.  Evan is shirtless, just wearing thin well worn sweatpants - and, Tommy suspects from how low they hang, nothing else.  Acres of skin and tattoos on display.  He's also vacuuming.  Garvey blinks at him when the video ends.  Finally says, in a faintly shocked tone.  "Kinky."

Tommy has to laugh.  Doesn't think much of it.  Except, there's another one waiting for him when he gets back to base.  This time Evan's folding a fitted sheet.  Tommy recognizes it as one of his, and then recognizes the edge of his couch behind Evan, and realizes he's used the key Tommy gave him a few months ago to go and do his laundry.  To be fair Evan'd had an equal hand in getting those sheets dirty, but still the thought of getting to go home at the end of his 48 to clean sheets, and clean towels, and neatly folded laundry, and, knowing Evan, a fridge full of neatly portioned food is ... it makes something warm curl and stretch in his heart, like a contented cat.  He doesn't need to be taken care of, he's been on his own for decades.  But, someone who wants to take care for him, that's something he'd been starting to think he'd never get to have.

They come at irregular intervals after that - Evan baking, Evan washing the dishes, Evan setting up coffee - always shirtless, always in those low slung pajama pants that get lower with each video.  If Garvey keeps looking over his shoulder eventually he might see something that'll scar him.  Tommy will enjoy it though. 

Garvey peers at the one of Evan washing dishes, and says dubiously, "And this does it for you?"

It does actually, to an embarrassing degree, but he doesn't actually feel like sharing that particular fact.  Lucy unexpectedly comes to his rescue, elbows Garvey sharply.  "Nothing is hotter than a man who does housework."

Garvey looks skeptical.  "Yeah, you think Carol would think it's hot if I did the dishes just wearing my boxers?"

Lucy and Marcus both snort.  Marcus slaps Garvey on the back.  "Garvey, you do the dishes without being asked and Carol's gonna call me and ask if you had a head injury recently she doesn't know about."  Which is rude, but fair.

He texts Evan / you're getting quite a following over here / .... / you might have to start an OnlyFans page /

/ Only fan I'm interested in is you / is the response he gets back instantly

[princess-of-thebes-1995]

Baby Trap

This is an extra chapter after the final battle. Spider is with Jake. Neteyam is alive because you took the shot. 

Since your little love confession to the Colonel, things have been smoother.

The recom Navi gave you privileges, such as a television in the bedroom and your own personal vegetable garden. And best of all, the Colonel hesitantly allowed you to take medicine for insomnia and depression. With the advance technology and advances, you now have the best stuff.

The branches of the army got the best stuff on Earth. So, you got medicine that so far has no side effects. The colonel wasn't stupid. He would feed you the pills in the mornings and evenings before sleeping. He didn't trust you after your attempted suicide.

He gave you scissors to trim his hair and the remaining kids under his supervision. He for some reason also banned coffee. Even decaf. But you were too scared to argue. Oh, well. Your medicine made you mellow. So, you don't think you need coffee to function. 

The colonel would also for some reason act more strange. He would buy you baggy and loose clothes. You didn't wear them. He just hanged them in the closet. Oh, well. At least he started taking care of your half breed Navi twins even more. 

One day, you were in the supply store of the base and asked for pregnancy control pills since you recently ran out three weeks ago.

"I am sorry, Ma'am." The receptionist looked scared. "The colonel gave me orders to not sell you birth control pills. You are banned from all contraceptives till He says so."

……….

You quickly walked back to your room. Thanks to Quaritch making you suck his dick in public, you tried to not be seen. You hated being in your room all day. Now, the one time you left your area of the base besides your kids' rooms and the kitchen, you got one of the worst announcements of your life. 

That jerk wants more kids!?

His human death made you raise triplets on your own. His job hunting Jake made him too tired for the twins. Now, another baby? Sure, physically maybe almost all women your age loved being pregnant due to the body changes and hormones. But, it lasts only nine months.

You shouldn't be hasty. Maybe there was a misunderstanding.  You should talk to Quaritch first.

......

You were washing the dinner dishes after serving your family and Lyle.

The colonel was watching TV while laying down on the bed.  He would shower after he eats with Lyle and the family. He came out fresh and was waiting for you to join him in bed. He tucked all the children to bed.  

You finally finished with the dishes and then took a quick shower. You showered twice a day. In the morning because you always had sex with quaritch at night.

And after cleaning the kitchen at night. To be fresh for your husband after working all day.

You came out to the bedroom.

Quaritch turned off the TV and held one arm out open for you. You crawled next to him and he kissed the top of your nose. He placed his chin on top of your head and held you close.

"Um, honey. I went to the supply store."

The colonel curiously looked down at your lovely face.

"The receptionist told me you forbade her from selling contraceptives. Is that true?"

The colonel nodded like it was natural. "Of course you shouldn't take pills."

You then sat up and separated from him. The colonel looked annoyed from the distance. He beckoned you back to his embrace.

You then got off the bed and stood next to it. The colonel narrowed his eyes at your disobedience. He gave you a warning look.

"I don't want any more babies." 

 "Remember what I said at the gym? When you sucked my dick?" He sat up from his position and swung his legs over the bed. "You no longer have an opinion. You will obey me."

Your eyes pricked with tears. "Five kids is enough."

The colonel got off the bed and stood to his height. "Don't lie. You love being pregnant. Minus the nausea. Besides, I have a feeling you might betray me again. I will fix your attitude."

You began to shake. You thought…

"You thought after that make up fuck we had last night will change my decision?" He sneered. "I said I love you. But, I don't trust you."

You began to back away and he menacingly followed you. Mocking you.

"You drugged my drink, you took my kids away from me, and you almost killed me multiple times. I would have killed you if you were not in my heart."

You sobbed and told him that he baby trapped you. 

The colonel grabbed your shoulders and slammed you against the wall. To his level your legs were lifted off the ground. 

"Says the gold digging whore who seduced me to help those science bitches years ago. You claim to be an independent woman. But you're a fuckin joke. A spoiled and entitled brat who uses her good looks and cunningness to get what she wants. You would always use your pretty face to persuade others to all your demands. But not me."

He breathed hard. "You're the weakest and most pathetic girl I ever met. You're everything I hate in a woman. I met real independent and tough women like Walker, Zdinarsik, and general Ardmore. But sadly, I fell in love with you of all people."

You felt his words shatter your heart. 

"You hate loving me?" You whispered. 

He nodded with a clenched jaw. "You ruined my fuckin life."

[kingofthe-egirls]

SOUP: SANJI x Y/N

(a sequel to a sequel, this is based off "between what was and will be" by @thus-spoke-lo and the following "like it's the only thing i'll ever do" written by @zimzalabimmmmm. plz read these first!)

(cw: sanji has a pet hamster, reader had a hamster who recently passed, [same, so...sanji is helping me grieve], food, kissing, dirty talk, consent, safe word selection, slut/whore/daddy used, swallowing, cunnilingus, fingering, blowjob, self-insert, streamer, stars indicate switching narratives)

(a/n: ok so now im desperately in love with sanji so plz enjoy this self indulgent sequel to a sequel)

Songs: "i hope you know what you're doing" by KING MALA,"dirty dishes" by KING MALA, "punchline" by KING MALA

words: 5.6k

Sanji huffs as he gets back home, setting his backpack down by the door. He'd had another late shift, and his feet hurt.

He hums, loosening his tie on his way to the shower. He leaves a trail of discarded clothing in his wake, strewn across the wooden slats of his apartment hallway. Steam fills the bathroom as he starts the shower, raking his hand through sweaty hair.

The shower is slow, as he lazily scrubs his body down of all the latent smells of soy sauce, ginger, and garlic. He shakes his head under the stream of water, pushing his hair back to wash his face.

Someone knocks at the door.

He grunts, shutting the water off a little earlier than he would've liked. He rubs a scratchy towel over his head, throwing another one around his waist as he steps with wet feet back to his front door. What now?

He swings the door open without a second thought.

****

"Oh--!" You say, face filling with heat at the sight of your neighbor's steamy, nearly-naked form. "S-Sanji! Hi," you scratch at the back of your head, shuffling awkwardly now between your feet. Sanji, for his part, stares at you with parted lips.

"H-hey there!" He steps back a little, hiding half his frame behind his front door. "Sorry, love! I was just--showering." He grins a little, crooking a swirly eyebrow up a hitch. His hair is pushed back from his face for once, giving you the rare sight of both his blue eyes at once. You bite your lip.

"I can see that," you start, stepping a tad closer. "Sorry to interrupt."

"No, no! Not at all," he opens the door wider, allowing you to step in after him. He rushes off to the back of his apartment, swiftly escaping back to his bedroom to get dressed. "Make yourself at home, sweetest! There's iced tea and apples in the fridge!" He calls before kicking the door shut behind him.

****

Shit.

She looks familiar, somehow, and Sanji's not sure how to place it. She's lived next door in the apartment building since he's been here, so that's probably it, but...Sanji shakes his head.

She's waiting for him.

Sanji sighs, soap suds sliding down his calves as he casts about his closet for something suitable. She's--so pretty.

Sanji rakes his hands through sopping hair. He decides to just go with the first two articles of clothing he sees: a white t-shirt and dark blue denim jeans. He wonders if she's hungry.

"Sorry about that, sweetheart," he says, making his way back to his living room. She is not where he left her, hopefully helping herself to some iced tea from the fridge, but instead staring silently at his hamster habitat. She's crying.

"Sweetheart?" He asks again, slowly stalking towards her. She's been over once or twice before, sharing drinks or a dessert he'd whipped up, but never really more than that. She's definitely never cried in front of him.

"Sorry," she whispers, fingers ghosting over the shiny aquarium glass. His hamster is trudging through her colorful tubes, slowly making her groggy way to her food bowl. There's freshly sliced carrots and celery already filling up the dish. She traces the hamster's movement with watery eyes. "She's so pretty."

Sanji's heart softens, as he steps up to stand beside her.

"Brie," he introduces his lovely pet to his even lovelier neighbor, "She's about two months old, so she's still adjusting." The hamster in question is now sitting with her tiny hands holding a carrot slice. A soft, strangled sob echoes from her delicate throat. Sanji's hands go to her shoulders, almost as an instinct, "Sweetheart, are you alright?"

She shakes her head.

Fuck.

Sanji grimaces, as he recalls the last time a sad, beautiful woman stood crying in his apartment. He hopes this time won't be as soul-wrenching as that. She sniffles, still staring at his hamster.

"Mine died last night."

Sanji blanches.

"Oh! My love, I'm so sorry," he swiftly guides her away, back to the couch, and she sits gratefully. Her body bounces a bit, on the overstuffed leather seat. Her chest also bounces, but Sanji tries his hardest not to look. Well, not for too long, at least.

He's only human.

She shakes her head, wavy hair falling down her shoulders in soft sheets. She takes the tissues he hands her, and blows snot into the bundle. Her cheeks are dusted with freckles. She looks up at him, smiling for his sake. She's so...alive.

Real.

Sanji swallows.

"S'okay," she says, stuffy, "She was three and a half years old, so..." She trails off, staring at the tissues in her hands. She sort of looks like the hamster behind him, all hunched over with fretting claws.

Sanji raises his eyebrows, surprised. "Hamsters are only supposed to live for two." He regards his neighbor with a newfound reverence. Any friend of rodents is a friend in his book.

She smiles.

****

"Yeah, she was a starlet," you say, shaking a little as you laugh. "She had a nice bin cage, with lots of fresh veggies. I, um...wanted to bake a pumpkin pie for her. Since pumpkin seeds were her favorite--," you cut yourself off, face crumbling as you start to cry again. Sanji sits next to you. He strokes your shoulders, his hand rubbing soothing circles over the fabric of your soft crop top.

"What was her name?"

Your handsome neighbor softens his voice, leaning his head down to catch your salt-streaked gaze. You smile, squishing the wadded up tissues in your hands. "Snegurochka."

Sanji blinks.

You laugh, "It's Slavic. Russian for 'snow maiden.' It was snowing in April when I got her, three years ago. So, that's what I named her!"

Sanji smiles, too. His teeth sparkle in his overhead lighting. It's nice, and florescent. Like some sort of snazzy art gallery. His coffee table is frosted glass, too. His arm chair is deep blue velvet, and the couch you're sitting on is plush, butter-soft brown leather.

"Such a good name," he says, squeezing your shoulder. His arm is heavy around you, and you lean into the welcome weight and warmth. He stiffens, and you step back up to standing, immediately.

"M'sorry!" You say, stuffing the used tissues into your shorts pocket. "I shouldn't have come over here, I-I don't wanna just sob on your couch--,"

Sanji stands too, waving a hand to cut you off.

"Sit," he says, guiding your hand once again to take comfort in his presence. "Have you eaten today?"

You shake your head.

"Let's change that."

****

Sanji pulls out a large, serrated vegetable knife.

"Lucky for you," he says, giving the knife a deft twist, "Pumpkins are in season, and I just so happened to pick up a few from the farmer's market yesterday." He flourishes the knife, pointing to the squashes sitting big and orange on his counter. She smiles.

His chest squeezes, and he does his best to ignore it.

Dark-haired, pretty girls with soothing voices and sparkling eyes are his weakness, but he refuses to be caught in another spiderweb of sob story lovesickness.

"How about an autumn squash soup, hm? I have some stale bread I could toast into croutons--?" He glances up, to suddenly see her right in front of his face. She's leaning across the counter, pleading at him with hungry eyes.

"Squash soup is my favorite."

She's salivating already, silly as can be, at the mention of her favorite food. Sanji grins. Now that is something he can handle.

"Sit down," he instructs, slicing into the pumpkin's orange rind, "And let me serve you some soup."

****

Sanji works swiftly, twirling around his kitchen like some sort of ballet dancer. You watch him, stinging eyes tracking his every movement.

"Sugar!" You say suddenly, eyes popping open wide. Sanji falters for a second, standing at the sink to wash off his knife and cutting board. Everything he uses in this kitchen is top tier, chef grade shit.

"I'm out of sugar. That's why I came here? For the pie. But, um--sorry? I kinda roped you into cooking for me...," you trail off, scrunching your nose. You pick at the frayed end of your cuffed denim shorts. It's autumn, now, but you run hot and can't stand the heat. You're in shorts and sandals until the end of November, at least.

Sanji shakes his head, stirring the simmering squash in a large pot over the stove. He has a long wooden spoon and everything. He looks like some sort of model in a home décor magazine.

"Has anyone ever told you how handsome you are?"

You say it brashly, brazenly, with a tilt of your head. He had opened his mouth to wave away your second apology, but your own stupid mouth had opened itself first. You have ADHD, alright?

Impulsiveness is kinda your thing.

Sanji stutters, his back turned to you. His shoulders are tense through his cotton t-shirt. You tilt your head, chewing on the inside of your cheek. Is he uncomfortable? "S-sorry," you say again, sitting on your hands with your foot in your mouth. You swing your legs.

Sanji shakes his head, shooting you a glance over his shoulder.

"Not, uh--in those exact words," he says, smiling sheepishly from under a crop of straw-colored hair. His eyes are like sapphires. Well, the one that you can see is, anyway. He smiles tightly, before spinning back to stir the soup. It smells delicious.

"Shame," you say, plainly.

"Is that so?" He asks, intrigue scooting beneath his words. His accent is slightly English. You sip your iced tea.

"Mhmm!" You say, swirling the ice cubes around in the glass he gave you. It's heavy, with a thick base and a golden band around the rim. "Someone shoulda said something by now," you stick your fingers in the glass to pop out an ice cube. It's crushed, your favorite, and you happily crunch down on it. The coldness stings your teeth.

Sanji is smiling in earnest now, his shoulders relaxing down in their sockets. The soft fabric of his t-shirt stretches over the muscular planes of his back. You sip another mouthful of tea.

"How tall are you?"

You're no stranger to flirtation (obviously), and Sanji seems fun to praise. His eyes go all steamy and his hands start fidgeting.

"180 centimeters," he says swiftly, sprinkling spices into the simmering pot. You snort.

"What could that possibly mean?"

Sanji laughs, a good belly laugh, and you grin.

"Sorry, love," he winks at you, "That's about 5'11 in American."

****

She's delicious.

She speaks plainly, in stop-and-start sentences. She reminds him of his friend Luffy, sort of. She's as impulsive as he is, at least. Although she hasn't broken anything in his apartment. Yet.

She's as hungry as Luffy is, though, if not more.

She devours the soup he plates and hands to her, with roasted seeds and fresh croutons as a garnish. She has no table manners, opting to slurp the soup right out of the bowl. Honestly, it's kind of refreshing.

He's spent the last few months trying his damndest to get over his best friend. She'd broken his heart, consciously or not, and he's been nursing it ever since. He'd only had one night with her, and they'd never really been dating, but… Heartbreak is heartbreak and it sure as hell still hurts. She's off somewhere, moved back home, doing who knows what with whom.

Anyway, it doesn't matter, does it?

Now, he's the head chef at one of the city's finest artisan cafes, having brought French delicacies to the menu as a former sous chef of the Baratie. His head chef and mentor Zeff had recommended him for the job. It was difficult to leave the place he'd called home, but it felt like the right time to move on. After all, hadn't she?

Sanji clears his head, trying to savor his own spoonful of soup. It's almost perfect. "Here," he says, swiftly snatching the cinnamon from next to the stove. He shakes it a little over his soup, and then reaches over to top the lady's off, too. She smiles sweetly at him, and his heart clenches. He sniffs, spinning around to put the cinnamon away. She's stirring her spoon through the soup, mixing the spice in.

"Sanji," she says, spoon still halfway in her mouth, "This is so good."

Sanji smiles, flattered.

"I'm glad you're enjoying it, mon cherie," he eyes the swiftly disappearing soup, "Let me know if you need seconds."

"Yes please!" She cries, happily handing him her now-empty bowl. There's a streak of orange on her upper lip. Sanji smiles, dancing around the counter's edge to stand in front of her. She's swinging her legs off the side of his leather bar stool.

Sanji pauses, gauging her expression, before swiftly wiping away the stripe of soup. He licks it off his thumb, savoring the spiced taste.

She watches his movements like a hawk.

****

Sanji is delightful.

He's sweet, chivalrous, and an excellent cook. And he's a small pet parent. A dreamboat, really. Like something out of your thirteen-year-old self's diary. So...you're understandably on edge.

"You're not a serial killer, are you?"

You ask it as easily as you asked for his height. Your questions are still not quite normal, though, since Sanji splutters on his soup. It's perfect, by the way. Your sweet, handsome neighbor coughs into a napkin as he recovers. You suck on your spoon.

"Uh--um, not that I'm aware of?"

You grin. "S'good enough for me!" You swing around in your seat, striding confidently around the counter to stand in front of him. He's a few inches taller than you. "Sanji?"

He stares at you.

"Thanks for the soup," you smile, and lean up on your tiptoes to kiss his cheek. He moans--a soft, surprised thing--before you pull away.

Sanji's face is blood-red, and you hope you haven't crossed a line. You scrunch your eyebrows together. "Is...that okay? Sorry, shoulda asked--,"

Sanji has your face cupped in his hands, having swiftly set down his bowl to lace slender fingers through your hair. He plays with it, softly.

"S'alright," he says, eyes half-lidded. "Still need some sugar, love?"

You smile like the sun.

And then Sanji is lowering his face to yours, and you eagerly press up to meet his lips halfway. He tastes like the squash soup you just ate.

"Hmmph!" He moans, as you slide your tongue between his lips. His hands tighten in your hair, gently pulling on the strands. Your own palms trace their way up his muscular chest and around his neck. You lift up on your tiptoes again, trying to deepen the kiss.

Sanji wraps his arms around your waist, and lifts you up to set you back down on the counter. He slides in between your legs, never breaking the kiss once. You suck on his bottom lip, gently.

"Sweetheart," he moans into your mouth, his hands scratching along your scalp. Streaming's nowhere near as fun as this. You hum, pleased, tilting your head to accept the gesture. Sanji's lips quickly find their place at your pulse point, and suck gently. He slides his tongue up and down your neck, as you gasp. A full body shiver runs over your spine. Your toes curl up as your legs instinctually wrap around him. You pull him closer.

Closer.

"Sanji--," you gasp, pulling on his hair to stop him from making you squirt right there. Your neck is sensitive, to say the least. "Is this a date?"

Sanji smiles, running his thumb along your bottom lip. His swirly eyebrow arches delicately. "Only if you want it to be."

You smile, nodding sheepishly.

He stills, half-parted lips two inches from your own. "So...did you really need sugar, or...?"

You stop, blush forming along your cheeks. Sanji laughs, long and loud, before resting his head on your collarbone. He leaves kisses there, sweetly. You snicker, scratching your fingers through his satin hair. "Sorry...," you tease, tracing the line of his t-shirt's collar.

Sanji hums, before pulling back. He tugs on the waistband of your denim shorts. His eye is hooded in lust. "Make it up to me, will you darling?"

You grin, biting your lip as you bounce up and down in your seat.

"Gladly."

****

She is incapable of sitting still.

Once Sanji has her in his bedroom, she is all restless and fidgety and handsy as all shit. She's enamored with his chest, tracing her delicate fingertips over his abs and pressing her thumbs into his stomach.

"Tickles," he says, circling his hands around her wrists. She looks up, sheepish.

"Sorry,” she says, leaning forward to kiss him again. She leaves sloppy kisses all over his chin and cheeks. Sanji shudders out a breathy laugh, letting her trail soft kisses down his throat. "Soup was just--really good, is all."

Sanji laughs, outright.

"So glad you think so," he says, sliding his hands around her waist to bring her onto his lap. She giggles, wrapping her own arms around his neck. She kisses him, again.

"Such a good kisser," she says, sliding her tongue along his bottom lip. Sanji's hard as fuck right now, and his hips buck up involuntarily.

"Sweetheart," he says, squeezing the fat of her hips where she straddles him. "What else can I do for you, hm?”

****

Soup has always been your favorite food. And food has always been the way to your heart. And your heart has always been the way to your bed. Sanji fiddles with the ends of your hair. He’s asking you for service, for what he can provide.

But he tastes so good, pumpkin still left coating his sliding tongue as he kisses you again. You hum.

“Sanji, will you let me thank you? For the soup,” you say, scritching through his hair. It’s flaxen, light gold with shimmery highlights.

He stares at you.

You take his silence for acceptance—at least until he says so—and sit up so you can start pulling your shirt off over your head. It’s a tie dye crop top—purple and blue—and you paired it with a lacy bralette. Sanji traces the edges of the silky fabric, his fingertips brushing over the swell of your breasts. He’s salivating, by now.

“Of course, milady,” he says, smiling at you, “Who am I to deny such a beautiful maiden?” He squeezes your tits in slender hands. You shiver.

“You speak like a dude from a romance novel,” you tease, letting him knead your breasts through the fabric. You shift, rolling your hips onto his hardening cock. Your denim shorts press up against your clit, the seam finding just the right spots.

“Is that a bad thing?”

You shake your head, instead opting to pull your bralette off, too.

Sanji stares at your body, marveling at your soft flesh as he plays with your tits for you. He circles his soft thumbs around your areolas, then flicks at your sensitive nipples. You hiss, drawing in a sharp breath through your teeth. He stares at you, gauging your reactions with the steady confidence of a lover.

“So fucking sweet for me,” he murmurs, before lowering his head to gently suck on one of your nipples. His fingers play with the other one, and you tilt your head back in bliss.

“Sanji—,” you hiccup, hips rolling into his instinctually. “So good—,”

“Sweetheart,” he moans again, his favorite nickname for you, “Service turns me on, darling. Please let me serve you?”

How could you possibly say no to that?

“Sure!” You chirp happily, still straddling his lap. He lifts you up, switching positions so you’re lying against the bed, head cushioned by soft pillows. You snuggle in. “I like being a sub,” you raise your eyebrows suggestively, “Safe word’s ‘scarecrow.’”

Sanji nods, repeating the safe word back to you. “Scarecrow, got it,” he murmurs against your exposed stomach. He hovers over you, supporting himself on his hands as he presses a line of kisses above the waistband of your shorts. He fingers the silver button below your belly. His eyes meet yours, hair softly falling into his face. He looks like an angel. “Anything else I should know?”

“Spanking’s hot,” you say, shifting in place as heat courses through you. Sex is your favorite thing. “But slaps anywhere else are a no go. I like slut and whore as pet names. And princess,” you start to list your kinks off on your fingers, “I like calling you daddy, if that’s okay? Also restraints, and tickling, and ASMR!”

Sanji nods at each fetish, visibly making note of them for later.

“What about you?”

Sanji sits up, still playing with the button of your shorts. He’s achingly hard in his jeans, and you want to touch. So you do.

“S-sex,” he stutters, as you touch him through his jeans. “Sucking on your skin, leaving marks,” his head tilts back as you palm his hard cock.

You’re sitting up on one elbow, sliding your hand up and down the line of his shaft. He’s hard and thick, and sort of longer than you’re sure you can handle. You bite your lip, feeling just how aroused he is. You can’t wait to see him.

“Switching sometimes, between sub and dom. Strap-ons,” he shudders, curving his spine around his center. You draw a line up his shaft with one finger. “Sucking your tits, size difference, hentai shit—,” he sucks in a breath through his teeth. “Restraints are hot as fuck.”

“On you or me?”

“Either.”

Shit.

“Let’s watch porn together sometime,” you suggest, “So we can see what turns each other on.”

Sanji growls, low in his throat. He's leaning back, abs clenching as you play with him. He stares down at you with one, glittering eye. “So fucking sexy…did you know that, sweet girl?"

You hum, “I’ve heard.”

He smirks, and slowly makes his way down to the waistband of your shorts.

“Daddy’s gonna take care of you now, okay?” His stubble tickles your stomach, and you nod. He teeths at the denim, and sparks follow in his wake. He peers up at you through his bangs, blue eyes shadowed in lust. “So be a sweet girl and lie back for me.”

Sheepish, you obey.

Sanji starts licking at the inside of your thigh. He pinches the fat of the upper part, just below the cuff of your shorts. He massages your legs, slowly working his way up and down them again. His lips are heaven.

“Sanji…,” you say, squirming your hips in place, “Stop teasing?”

“Okay, okay,” he amends, lifting up to slide your shorts down your legs. He discards them off to the side, leaving you in your striped underwear. He lies down on his stomach, between your legs. Shivers run down your spine. Sanji stares at you for one moment more, seeing the lust and adoration in your eyes. You squeak, something small and excited, and he smirks. “So needy for me, hm?”

You nod, ferociously.

“Please.”

Sanji hums, and places a single kiss to your clothed clit. He strokes a finger over the wet patch of your panties, pressing into your soaking slit.

He starts slowly, smooching around your pussy to gauge your scent, your expressions, your sounds. He slips two fingers into the side of your undies, sliding along your soaking folds, and you arch your back with a whine. “Sensitive,” he murmurs, pressing a kiss to your thigh. “May I start, my love?”

“Mhmm!!!”

He giggles at your eagerness, and slides your underwear down and over your legs. He tosses them to the side. “Stunning,” he gasps, eyes widening as he spreads your legs. “Pretty girl, such a slut for Daddy, aren’t you? So needy,” he circles your knee, seeing your pussy flutter at his praise. He makes a mental note of how he’s pleasing you, every twitch and moan as he explores the new, strange and beautiful thing that is another’s body. He’s so glad to have you in his bed. “Spread your legs for me, sweetness.”

****

She obeys.

Sanji lies down on his stomach, spreading her pussy lips with his thumbs. She’s soaking, for him.

“Please, Sanji—,” she gasps for him, straining her hips closer to his face. She’s already flushed and ready, hands balled into fists in the sheets.

“S'alright, love," he says, breath fanning over the soft hairs on her lips. She purrs, staring at him as smug as a jungle cat. He stops, seeing the sudden darkness that flashes in her eyes. Sanji licks his lips.

He slides his tongue across her slit experimentally, the tip of his tongue swirling up and around her clit. She arches, sighing at the sensation. Sanji starts to spell his name. She croons, eyebrows raised as her breathing quickens.

"So soft," she whispers, hand going to tug at his hair, "Faster?"

Sanji serves.

He swipes his tongue, faster but not harsher, in swift circles around her swollen clit. His arms encircle her thighs, hands holding onto the creases of her hips. She has a roll of fat over her belly, which swells every time she curls forward to watch him. Her mouth is open, parted like a peach ring, as she stares down at his movements through darkening eyes.

"Sweet girl," he says against her, voice reverberating through her heat. His fingers stroke at her entrance, slick with arousal, and he pushes delicately inside. She clenches around his finger, swollen and searing against his skin. She whines, his own body answering her with a gasping thrust. His cock has been hard for a few minutes now, and he rubs his hips into the mattress.

"Suck harder," she commands, grasping at his hair. He lets her guide his head to where she wants him, which is apparently with his lips sucking hard around her clit. 

Sanji slides two fingers into her pussy, starting to thrust gently with his hand. She scrunches her eyebrows, squirming side to side. "Slower," she says, so he stills his pace to flutter them inside her, instead. She's squishy and warm, and Sanji's eyes roll back in his head. He's being just as loud as she is, sighing and moaning at every breath.

"Sa-ah-anji!"

She's squeezing around his fingers, as he feels her release and clench over and over again. He slows his movements, tracking her short rasps as he lightens the suction on her clit. 

"So good," she says, voice high-pitched and scratchy. She pushes up to sitting, sweaty and flushed, as she makes grabby hands for his face. "C'mere?"

Sanji obliges.

She smiles, taking his scruffy cheeks in between her palms. She pecks sweet, little kisses all over his face. His own breathing is ragged and heavy, and she grins at him seductively. "Your turn!"

Sanji slides onto his side, letting her straddle his legs. His cock is achingly hard through his jeans, and she finally, finally releases it as she tugs his pants down his muscular thighs.

"So pretty…," she whispers, shiny eyes taking in the sight of his weeping dick. She strokes her thumb over the head, smearing precum along the heated skin. Sanji hisses as she slowly lowers her swollen lips to his cockhead, sucking gently. She stares at him, eyes open wide and curious. So he lets her learn his body, too. She rubs her thumb along the vein on his underside, and he gasps. She grins, lifting off his cock to tongue at the tip in soft, fluttery licks.

"S'okay?" 

She swirls her hand up and down his shaft. Her wrist curves at his base, and then twists deftly as she strokes him up and down. Sanji whimpers, a sound he's embarrassed to make, but she sparkles at it. She bites her lip, turning her attention now to his dick completely.

She lowers down her head, and takes him all the way to the base.

"Holy shit–," he curls his fingers in her hair, holding on for dear life. It's taking everything in him not to start fucking her throat as hard and fast as he fucking can, but–she's delicate, divine, and was crying just forty minutes earlier. Now, however, his heart squeezes as he sees sparkly tears forming at the corners of her lashes. She's smiling, somehow, even as she wraps her lips around his shaft. He groans, heat coursing through him at every lick and suckle.

His abs clench, and he knows he can only stay still for so much longer.

"Sweetheart," he gasps, "Can I fuck your face?"

She moans, long and lewd, as she nods on his cock.

Sanji grips her head tighter, securing her in place, before he starts thrusting gently into her mouth. His head is squeezed by the back of her throat, constricting and releasing as she struggles to breathe. She blows long, shaky breaths through her nose as she takes him.

"So good, baby," he praises her, stroking her cheekbone with a shaky finger. She smiles with her eyes, crinkling up at the edges. Her pupils are blown. She hums, reverberating through his shaft, as she lets him hit it deeper. 

Sanji lets his head hit the pillow, senses clouding over with sweet pleasure. He shallowly thrusts into her face, stealing glances at her flushed cheeks and fucked out expression as he does.

She starts fondling his balls, and Sanji gasps.

His abdomen clenches, and it's not long before he's finishing down her throat.

"Shit–," he groans through a wave of shimmering white sensations, as she swallows as much of his cum as she can. Slipping down her chin, he watches rivulets of his own spunk drip onto the sheets below her face. He groans, an audible break in his voice. 

"S'good," she praises him, popping off him with a smack. She licks her lips. "Sweet, actually, Sanji. Damn," she snickers, shaking her head, "Shit's never actually tasted good for me, hah."

Sanji laughs, breathy and loud.

(She makes him laugh).

Sanji doesn't know what to do with that thought, so instead he sits up and grabs her chin in his fingers. He thumbs at her bottom lip, and she opens her mouth. He inspects her, his own mouth parted at the ecstasy. She sticks her tongue out, eyes crossing upwards in an ahegao.

"Now, where did my little slut learn that?" 

She giggles. "I like hentai, too." She says with an arch in her eyebrows. She's glowing, soft and flushed, with something striking behind her smile. She looks like something he'd see in a rain forest. Smart, with sharp claws and sharper teeth. She drags an acrylic nail down the spasming muscles of his stomach. Sanji swallows.

She traces the line of his hip bones.

She flicks her falcon's eyes back up to his sweaty face. She is naked, but seems stronger for it. Empowered. Sanji, however, feels weak as shit beneath her predator's gaze.

"Sanji," she says, something artemesian in her soft tone, "Sex with you is really sweet." She flicks her eyes up to him, as something else gut punches him in surprise. She likes him. 

Sanji swipes at his nose, already feeling the trickles of blood starting to slip out of his nostrils. She's a huntress, and he her prey.

"S-so glad you think so," he says, sliding out of bed as elegantly as he can. He grabs the tissues off his dresser and stuffs some up his nose. "Sorry," he says, nasally, "Nosebleed."

She snorts.

"Hentai shit, indeed."

Sanji shakes his head.

"So…," she pushes off the bed, naked and alluring. She crosses the distance between them, staring at him like he's something marble and statuesque. She assesses his form, stroking her fingers along his biceps. "Secrets time."

Sanji stops. "Oh?"

She nods, sheepish. "Have you…seen me before?" She tilts her head, something subtle under her words that he can't quite place. She sighs, "Like…on the internet?"

Sanji's eyes widen.

"Oh." 

Something about her is familiar, he realizes. She's been on his phone screen more than once, with a saved ASMR tab on his incognito browser. StarlaStreams. He's been listening to her streams for a few weeks now. She's soothing; helps him relax.

"Starla!" He says, surprised, "I'm surprised I didn't recognize you sooner, actually." He steps aside to dispose of the tissues stuffed up his nose. He sniffs, swiping his forearm under his nostrils.

She sways forward, hands held behind her back. She's flirting with him, sweet and silly as can be. "So...is that a like, cool thing?"

Sanji answers without a second thought.

"Yes."

Sanji stares at her, and she preens beneath his gaze. She lets him trace her features with his eyes, swinging her hips side to side.

StarlaStreams is standing in his bedroom. She's not wearing makeup, and she's shorter in person than he would have thought.

He's used to seeing her all set up for her streams: Sailor Moon style wigs and soft pink blushes across her highlighted nose, false lashes batting sparkly at the camera. But now he can see her features as clear as day, suddenly recognizing her soft voice and sweet smile.

She arches an eyebrow, and Sanji feels something akin to fear shoot through his gut (and his dick).

And then something fiery and dark flashes behind her eyes, and she's pounced on top of him, legs wrapping around his waist as she leaps into his arms. His hands go to catch her, supporting her thighs as she sticks her tongue down his throat. She cackles into his mouth.

"Sweet!"

****

[carnal-lnstinct]

Friends with benefits Broly x Reader?

BROLY (DBS) X READER

☆☆ Content: ( au: post - super hero, friends with benefits, implied size difference, oral - male receiving ) ☆☆ Warning: ( M / 18+. MINORS DNI. explicit language )

☆☆ A/N: I can't believe I haven't written spicy broly since November, now he out here getting "foodie calls"

You don’t know how you got roped into this cycle of feeding saiyans. There was no obligation for you to do it like Bulma and Chi Chi, but it quickly became a regular thing and at least twice a month you had the three showing up at your home after training waiting to be fed. It all started with their new addition and your new mutual friend, Broly. You quickly became acquainted and whatever you chose to label your loose commitment, you grew more familiar with him than any other man you’ve known as “just a friend”. Regardless, you accepted this cook role for what it was if it meant you got to see more of Broly. Certainly, this was his excuse to see more of you. You even found yourself planning out meals for their next visit to flex your cooking skills. 

There was a language of love in cooking for others who enjoyed it, and it shined in your determination to awe them for the next time. Delving into recipes from the common modern cuisine to some from your cultural background. Sometimes comparing your own meals to the others often made you hesitant to try bolder recipes, however. Bulma can produce high-quality and multi-course meals at the snap of her finger, enough to feed them for months at a time. And Chi Chi’s a virtuoso with creating unique, hearty, and delicious home cooking from scratch, able to use all her resources to satisfy the hungriest of warriors. They’ve also been doing this longer, you have to remind yourself. 

But you’ve never gotten criticism from either one of the saiyans intending to bash your skills, only from how quickly certain portions can disappear without a ready refill from Vegeta and Goku. 

Broly never complained, he accepted everything you could give him with quiet contentment and simply ate his share of the large portions. It’s hard not to notice when the other two are so vocal about wanting more, so you just made sure to give Broly a little extra here and there. A polite thanks is given in return when you refill his plate before it empties. You don’t know exactly where he came from, other than Goku describing it as “repugnant”, but it was nice to know that someone capable of such frightful powers still came with his manners. He may have been the biggest saiyan you’ve ever seen, but he was without a doubt the most soft-spoken and polite, an amusing change from Goku’s free-and-easy demeanor and Vegeta’s snobbish persona.

You used to think the sex would help bring Broly out of his shell (it did wonders for Vegeta’s personality), knowing he is locked in this mundane routine of physical and mental training, but it may have just made him more docile. Perhaps he mistook it as more training for his emotions. It did make it easier to talk about with him, at least.

You eventually left the three to finish chatting up about their day and finish up the last of the food, returning to the kitchen to start cleaning the dishes. The only downside to their company was being left alone to clean up the mess so you figured you’d get a headstart. You weren’t left alone for long, however, a sudden large hand on your shoulder almost jolting you out of your skin from Broly’s quiet approach. You laugh off your scare and quickly take notice of the timid, yet distressed frown in his features, realizing it was there before he accidentally surprised you. Did you miss something over their mealtime?

“Oh, hey. What’s the matter?” You asked, concerned about the reason behind this change from his normal demeanor. Based on what you did tune into from their chatting, you could think of one reason this may be. “Bad training session?”

“No.” Broly paused, then looked further disappointed by his answer. “Not…really.” He corrected. They couldn’t stop talking about Goku and Vegeta’s exhibition while they ate, but Broly and Goku sparred too. Along with its abrupt end, it never came up for conversation. Had he not almost lost control, maybe things would have ended differently today. He would have a nice story to share with you on his progress instead.

It was truly an experience to be on the spectator side of a fight for once and Broly was moved to try to emulate the other two saiyans’ ability to maintain their power as they fought, however he couldn't overlook his lack of dominance over his strength and be ashamed. Being unable to control his power even after a couple of years of training with Goku made him feel like he was missing something in his lessons. He's improved dramatically, but still so much is left to learn.

“Did you…lose focus again?” You asked, halting your cleaning entirely to look at him. Broly nods softly.

“Only for a moment.” He admitted. Even for just a brief instance of a slip-up where he caught himself, he wanted it to sound better than it was, how it made him feel. In search of that relief, you were more than receptive to his troubles and willing to help.

"Do you need help with ‘focusing’ again?" You inquired further, a sincere concern with a suggestive undertone he did not miss. In fact, he hoped for it. With nerves building in the base of his chest, Broly swallowed the lump in his throat and nodded at you again.

You smiled at him, charmed by his ability to say so much with his actions than words. And still so careful and shy about approaching you for your “help” after doing this a couple of times already. You quickly felt your insides come alive, motivated by the decadent impulses that would consume you from here on. Indulging saiyans is truly a delight you never thought you wanted until you had it.

Calmly drying your hands, you close the space between the two of you and hold up your hands invitingly. At the ready, Broly follows along. His larger hands press into yours where your fingers interlock. He watches you close your eyes and take a deep breath, doing the same.

“Where am I?” You asked him and you feel the little squeeze of his hands around yours.

“You’re here.” He says, his heart skipping a beat but another deep breath eases its rhythm. Your smile grows hearing him do so and you reopen your eyes to look up at him.

“Where are you?” You follow up, giving his hands a squeeze in return.

“Here..” Spoken gently, Broly opening his eyes, finding himself lulled to the familiar relaxed state of being with a floaty sensation, yet his senses were so keen and sparked by the body before him. Then his eyes locked onto yours and he allowed himself to fall into his urges. Giving in only to those that could desire the warmth of your body, all others drowned out in the placid state of his mind. A shade of pink rises in his tan cheeks remembering the acute sensations of you, leaning down to kiss your lips the way he learned. He moved more confidently than he has before, more controlled, which you appreciated.

It’s not exactly the place you want to do this, but you doubt the other two would be in a hurry to move after putting away all that food. Urgency was the key still as Broly would have to return to Lord Beerus’ planet after this. You freed one of your hands to cup his chin, basking in the sweet kisses heating up between you as he fills his hand with your face as well. Deepening the kiss. His unspoken neediness reared itself quickly when you found your backside bumped against the counter, bound in the small space with his body pressing closer to you. A mess waiting to happen if you knock over the stack of dishes. So you opt for something else.

His pelt brushes over your nose when you got on your knees in front of him, the mixed scent of his musk from training and the last time you cleaned it for him filling the air around your head. Alluring and rugged, you couldn’t help taking a moment to let it intoxicate you. Half of your face disappeared beneath his pelt as you kissed along the tent on his formfitting pants, feeling it flinch in return. Your eyes peer up at him, checking in. Broly is slightly hunched over to watch you, eyes darkened and face glowing with his desire.

"I'm here." He reassures you, encouraging you to continue for more. He sees your eyes smile back at him and it felt like his heart was flipping in his chest in anticipation of what was coming next. You pulled the purple fabric free of Ba’s ear and down the bulge before you, freeing his hard cock as it hung erect above your face.

The size of it never failed to impress you, the mere fullness of his girth and its strong length bearing its weight. One could easily be lost in staring at it just by how intense it looked and only the brave like yourself could find how sensitive it truly was. That had to be your favorite part. You give the exposed head a kiss before you grab him at the base of his length and rub your flattened tongue across the tip. Broly took in a sharp, deep breath once your lips wrapped around him, falling past his lips with the shaky heat from his chest. His eyes softened at the touch, fighting his instincts to close them so he can keep them on you. This was where he needed his control the most, when you trusted him to hold his focus. He’d bite his lip bloody and bury his nails into the palm of his hand before he would let himself hurt you.

But it felt so good, the warmth of your mouth wrapped around the head of his cock, suckling around the sensitive glans and working your way further down the length with your hand coming the opposite way. It sent a shiver all the way up his spine as he leaned his hips into you, his voice creeping out of his slacked jaw. You truly enjoyed the way your mouth felt opening up to his size. It was easier for now, but you knew the further this went the more trouble it would be to hold it in your mouth as you were, let alone slide it as deep as you could.

Broly came with a little trick you never seen before and made you curious if all saiyans did it, but as fully erect as he was, he was far from his true size. With a strong hand cupping the end of the counter and the other on the nearby wall, you feel him buck against your opened mouth and your eyes look up to him, relaxing your jaw so he would slip free. His cock twitches more excitedly, missing the sensation of you.

"I-I'm here…" Broly breathed heavily. Practically pleading in his lust for you to go on, licking the dryness from his lips.

He does let his eyes close this time when you draw him back past your lips and his head lulls back as a moral vocal groan leaves him. As you picked up your pace, you started to feel his girth swell, expanding your jaw to a more discomforting stretch and you knew he was about to cum. Your one hand and lips couldn’t quite meet in the middle any longer, so you brought your second to add to his pleasure. Slick with your saliva, you switched to pumping the swollen length while you continue to suck only on the sensitive head of his cock, motivated to keep this pace by the lively twitches under your ministrations.

[tripthelightfandomtastic]

here’s my sammy idea; its about edging so if that’s not your thing, keep scrolling!

ok so, i want to edge sam. i feel like the idea it would come up from some argument he was having with boys when having drinks at jakes house, a stupid discussion about who could go the most without an orgasm, and sam gloated about how he is not a desperate teenager.

the little comment takes root in your brain, and on your way back home you raise the idea to him.

“do you actually think you can do it?” you say casually while driving “do what?” “go a few days without cumming” his eyes go a little wide at the question “well… yeah, i think i can do better than those 3, at least, why?” you casually stop at a red light, so you look at him “would you be down to try?” he is quiet for seconds that feel too long “…try it how, exactly?” “well,” you raise an amused eyebrow at sam’s sudden shyness “we do our usual thing, but you make me cum, and you suck it up” you joke hoping to put him at ease, making him chuckle before he quiets down again “so… edging? is it?” “yup” you nod “we can build up to it honey, im not gonna slap a cock ring on you and keep it there for half a month” the mention of the ring already makes sam feel hot under his collar, you continue “we can start with four, maybe five days if that sounds ok- if you are okay with the whole thing, that is” sam nods, its not like you aren’t in control of all his orgasms already, he loves to be putty in your hands “okay, yeah, lets do it” he runs his clammy palms up and down his legs, already feeling a bit jittery “are we… are we starting now?” you giggle at him sweetly “no honey, right now im gonna be sweet to you and make you cum in any way your little heart desires” you park in front of your home and cup his jaw and peck his lips “we can start tomorrow” making him gulp nervously.

you settled on four for being the first time, but god it was the four longest days of sam’s life. from making him eat you out 3 times while praising him, to jerking him off hard and fast, in a way that made him squirm desperately and gasp for air as if he was constantly coming out of the water. you never pushed him too close to the edge, maybe once or twice before letting him catch his breath and take a cold shower.

on the fourth day, sam woke up to an empty bed. he got up and walked to the kitchen, and bent over to hide his face in your neck and mutter a shy good morning. you were sitting on the table with a mug of coffee and a left-over croissant from yesterday. “good morning, pretty. how did you sleep?” it was hell to fall asleep, honestly. you palmed him through his underwear and kissed his neck while praising him for what what felt like hours, so he had to fall asleep with a hard on and wake up to a slight case of morning wood. “Fine” he bit his lip, looking around in the kitchen, catching your eyes every now and then. “im not gonna make you cum yet, sam” you chuckled at his whining “you’ve been waiting for days, you can wait a few more minutes.” you placed your mug and plate on the sink, feeling him follow you like little puppy. “first, breakfast, you are gonna need your energy, baby” he sighed and fixed himself a mug with a bowl of cereal on the side, and ate with a pout “oh, dont be dramatic, sammy”

30 minutes later, you feel him creep behind you while you do the dishes, hands on your rib cage trailing down to your hips “please? now?” he asks quietly and you sigh with a smile “ok sammy, go wait in the room” you kiss his shocked face on the cheek “go, ill be right there” he nearly trips on his way out.

if you could take a picture, you would, because you dont think there’s anything prettier than sam with his hair in a bun, hands tied up above his head, cheeks and chest flushed, squirming from your hand pumping him slowly but steady, and your lips fluttering around the base of his cock. “please, please…” he whines sweetly “sammy, you really arent helping yourself with all your begging and whining” you say, with a seductive smile “can i try something?” “yes, please, just-“ a choked moan and the clench of his legs interrupt him “anything, i need it” “aw, he needs it” you coo mockingly “ok baby, im gonna give it to you, yeah?” he nods shakily with closed eyes, taking this as a chance to take the little bullet vibrator from the nightstand to your left.

with your right hand holding his red, weeping cock up from the base. “just let go when you are ready, ok?” you dropped a kiss to his hip as he nodded, his breath still labored but not as frantic. you wrap you lips around his tip, babying it with your tongue, circling around it gently. his noises almost sound like complains, his hips already starting to shift. when you feel like he got back into it, you turn on the bullet vibrator at high power, holding it to where his shaft connects to his balls, making him almost scream in surprise, and it takes little to no time to get him there. “oh god- oh, please! can i-?” he sobs out, you let go of his tip with a pop “yes, yes baby, come for me, let go-“ sam’s scream interrupts you as his orgasm splatters against his chest. his body tenses erratically, his mouth open with now gasps coming out of him as his orgasm hits him like a train. you pull the vibrator off of him while still pumping steadily to work him through it gently. when there’s only a few tears coming from his cock you pull away from him, immediately standing up to release his hands, the only sound in the room being his panting. “sammy? did i break you baby?” you touch his face delicately, he nods with a wet face, nuzzling it into your hand “let me know when i can clean you up, bub. take your time” while playing with the stray hairs from his bun to pull him back to reality gently

(i know the spacing looks weird as hell but this is tumblr being HELL to write in im sorry)

Oh... now that is delicious.

[stevishabitat]

Was on Pinterest (I know, I do sometimes cheat on Tumblr with the Pretty Plagiarism Hellsite, I'm not proud of it)

Anyway, I saw this and just about threw my phone...

(I didn't throw my phone because I have to use it to sign into the work VPN so I can keep my job)

But I literally saw red for a brief second.

My fridge, freezer, and pantry currently consist of about 20 eggs, half a loaf of bread (gift from my mother), several servings of cooked black beans, some cooked white rice, a bag of frozen peas, about five frozen chicken nuggets, a pound of dry white rice, a small jar of dried lentils, a small jar of split peas, a slightly larger jar of pinto beans, two packets of minute rice, two packets of ramen (another gift from my mother at kiddo's request), several cans of spaghettios, several cans of tomato paste, two tins of tuna, a few packets of instant oatmeal, a tin of hopefully not stale steel cut oats, and some bisquick for pancakes & waffles.

I do have a little less than a pound of flour, and things like sugar, baking soda, baking powder, some spices, some condiment packets, vinegar, and some boullion. Oh, and some coconut oil that's been in the freezer for awhile, meant for making hand cream, but isn't rancid so it's getting used for coating the electric skillet and waffle maker once we'd run out of olive oil and butter.

This is what we'll be cooking with until the next pay day/grocery day in two weeks.

So, I'm not quite at the level of food insecure, but I'm pretty damn broke.

And the pictures on that pin are just nothing like what we're able to eat. Ever. For at least the last 10 years. I don't even remember the last time I was able to buy meat on a regular basis.

Canned chili with meat instead of beans and chicken nuggets are like Special Occasion foods for kiddo and I rarely have any (because I can easily sub beans, kiddo has sensory issues with most beans).

I might get myself a single chicken pot pie from time to time, especially in the winter. But I can't afford to buy like cuts of chicken to make my own. It's too much money to spend at once on just one thing. My $35 grocery shops twice a month have to cover a LOT.

Plus when we moved in (2021), the stove/oven was broken, so we had a scrapper haul it away for the recycling value. So we've been using a toaster oven and small electric skillet since then.

I had a little remorse at my knee-jerk reaction to the cover photo, so I clicked into the blog to see what the actual list was like. Title of the blog is Boss Single Mama, so maybe she knows what she's talking about. Maybe she's been there for real.

Nope. Chicken, beef, ham, almost every dish has meat. Cheeses and other dairy, a variety of vegetables, all things that we get very sparingly and use in small amounts on many meals, not as a main ingredient.

And even thinking back to my childhood it wasn't much different. We shopped at Aldi before it was cool and their selection was far more limited. Most of our meals were rice or pasta based, with meat only appearing as ground beef, tuna, and sometimes bologna.

Hot dogs were a special treat and even those weren't used on a bun. They were cut up in a pasta salad or casserole. Sometimes if we had a few leftover we would eat them the next day fried in a pan and wrapped in bread or a tortilla and that was a good day! We bought the cheap cheese in blocks and had to grate it because Aldi didn't even carry shredded cheese back then.

This is the kind of thing that makes me feel like when most people talk about being broke, or living frugally, or thrifty, or struggle meals, or whatever the trendy phrase is... They're talking about something vastly different than my daily life.

And it just makes me feel crappier about how I'm raising my kiddo, and it seems like there's so few resources to help people who are actually struggling. Whose lives don't look like a Boss Single Mama blog.

Anyway, if you ever feel the same way, you aren't alone. I raise my bowl of bean & tomato sauce rice to you! We are survivors, in spite of it all.

[leafwritings]

Hey everyone, just letting you know I'm not dead! Holidays had me busy and I wasn't able to post anything over the months but I do have 4 asks I'm working on and 2 close to finishing. After that though ask box will be close to work on some ideas I'm wanting to test out, but in the meantime just hang in there and I will have something out soon! So for now I have a preview of what ask I'm working on now so, please enjoy!

Preview:

Living in Devildom was bumpy for you. Not knowing the people or the culture was tough to grip onto and was difficult to get comfortable with. You knew very little so you had to base most of your knowledge on luck and experience.

So the moment when Lucifer brought up that one of your many responsibilities when living in The House of Lamentation was cooking you were essentially doomed. Sure, you knew the basics of cooking and remembered a couple of recipes from the human world yet, devildom food was a fresh ball game for you.

Like, what the hell is a Roasted Havoc Devil? Hell if you knew frankly, but it was something you were expected to learn unless you'd want Lucifer walking around with a stick up his Prideful ass.

Though you tried your best... But of course, it did not turn out as planned.  Instead, you dished out a meal that was less than palatable to consume. That day you all ended up ordering takeout instead, which none were complaining about.

But you were still pretty disappointed that your first devildom recipe was a letdown.

You exhaled tiredly while walking to the kitchen. It was once again your day for dinner and you were less than siked to cook again, take out twice in a row was something you were expecting this time around.

You stepped into the kitchen, letting your feet graze the cold tile, prepared to make what hellish devildom meal that looks manageable. 'Here goes nothing' you hyped. You turned to the nearest wall I'm search of the apron hanging on the wall, once found you lift it off the hook. The opening was just close to your head but was halted when you heard a humming tune behind you.

There stood a familiar demon, working there way around the kitchen with a small tune humming on his lips.  It was a sweet tune, putting your mind at ease about what was to come, but as much as you like to remain and listen to the humming you had dinner to prep.

You cleared your throat to make yourself known, you caught him off guard as he jumps to an alert stance before rotating his head in your direction. "Hello (Name)." he greeted at your presence. "Hey." you lazily wave at him. He chuckled at your small gesture. " I am assuming you're coming in to prepare for dinner?"  he quipped.

You gave a nervous laugh at the reminder. "Yeah, right...Dinner. That's what I'm here for, heh." It had to be done, but it doesn't explain why he is in the kitchen. "But if I'm the one that's supposed to be making dinner why are you here? And cooking for that matter?" you questioned.

"Well I was craving a favorite dish of mine and thought I could make some before dinner." he clarified. "Oh, well it does sound good, and smells good too!" "I doubt you'd like it, it's a devildom dish. It is not as tasteful to humans as it is to demons." he chimed.

That is when a sudden concept came to your senses. Making you smile gleefully at your newfound goal.

"Well, you never know. Do you think you can teach me?"

[ronni-right]

Daemyra + Nose nuzzles! For no reason! In front of other people!! And their friends going like, “Hello? The fuck is this?”💙

Fandom: House of the Dragon

Pairing(s): Daemon Targaryen x Rhaenyra Targaryen

Warning: Daemon and Rhaenyra are very very distant cousins, age difference is around 4-5 years, fluff, attempt in humor

Headcanon: Daemon and Rhaenyra are friends, they aren’t a couple, but they act like they are married. 

Author’s note: English isn’t my native language. 

Based on @dumplingsjinson prompts.

Word Count: 985

Family barbecues are a Sunday tradition. Not that they gather every Sunday for a barbecue. It’s mostly a seasonal tradition from April to September when the weather is nice for outdoor activities. And when winter comes, with blowing winds and low temperature, they mostly stay in their own homes, meeting twice or so in a few months in some sky resort for a weekend. She spends her days and nights in a sky resort near the heated pool and jacuzzi, going outside the heated building only when Daemon presses the matter of her to see some local vicinity  really hard.

They always gather in a big group, family, allies, friends. Not that she enjoys seeing everyone, like the Hightower family, Otto and Alicent, that are at every Sunday party. But they are her dad’s guests and she can’t do anything about them being there. Alicent was her close friend once, but their friendship ended when Alicent tried to seduce her father when mom fell sick and hopes of her recovering were low. Thank God, mom survived. However Rhaenyra’s relationship with Alicent was never the same. She has a strong belief it’s all Otto doing, he orchestrated this seducing mission that failed. She can’t understand father who still treats her well. And Otto, this scheming snake, she doesn’t like him. As well as she doesn’t like Cristone, who plays his part as Alicent’s boyfriend. It’s been like 8 months since they started dating and they still are going as a couple, even though there is no real chemistry between them. Daemon and her have more chemistry  than Alicent and Cristone. And Daemon and her are friends! 

Criston was once her friend too, until last year's Christmas party. He was drunk as fuck, and he cornered her, tried to kiss her, telling her he felt chemistry between them, and that she didn’t need to deny her own feelings for him. Good thing Daemon saved her. The accident was unpleasant to say the least. And from that day on, she avoids Criston at all costs.

Alicent and Otto stand with her parents, talking about something. And then she notes Christone, who moves towards her with two glasses of cocktail. They are obviously made by Joffrey and he makes great cocktails, she likes them. But she definitely won't take anything from Christon’s hands. Rhaenyra  doesn’t want to talk to him too, so she stands up from 

the deck chair and purposefully goes to Daemon, who stands by the grill machine. He is always in charge of cooking meat, because his meat turns out to be the most delicious dish. He doesn’t really like when somebody approaches him while he stands there, overlooking the process. But he always makes an exception for her. And when she stops beside him, Daemon pulls her closer by her waist: 

“The meat will be ready in five minutes tops.” 

“Not that I came to fish out this information from you, but knowing the time when this fantastic meat will be ready makes me really happy.”

“I’m glad you highly rate my skills at cooking, little dove.” He smiles at her. 

“I highly rate a lot of your skills.” Not that she knows all of his skills. And she wants to know some of them, badly, but alas. 

And it’s not a lie, about his skills she knows a lot about. Whatever Daemon does, he does it splendidly. He is a leader people want to follow, the leader people respect. And he is good with numbers. Her own calculating skills are lacking sadly. Not the good quality for someone who will inherit a huge corporation. But Daemon will be by her side when times come, so she has nothing to worry about. Actually Daemon and her are a great team, at work and outside of work too. 

“Are you flattering me to get more meat in the end?” Daemon asks playfully, with his head turned towards her while she is pressed completely against him, with her arms around his waist.

“Will it help the case?” Rhaenyra asks back playfully and smiles, getting a smile from Daemon in return. 

“Perhaps.” 

And she stands up on her toes to rub her nose against his in a manner of a thank you. 

“Hello? The fuck is this?” Alicent’s not that pleasant voice comes from behind. Really? Rhaenyra doesn't even want to turn to face her. But Daemon turns to her, and Rhaenyra nuzzles into his cheek, looking for a comfort. It’s really not easy with their height difference but it’s worth it. 

“Nothing that concerns you, so go away. You interrupt our important conversation.” Daemon answers and his voice is cold. 

Alicent doesn’t go immediately. It seems she fumes over something only she finds disturbing. Rhaenyra doesn’t know, her nose is still pressed to his cheek. Daemon and Alicent probably have a staring battle that Alicent loses as she leaves hastily. 

“Do you know that she loves you?” Rhaenyra asks him. Alicent shared this secret with her once. But it’s probably not a big secret as she tries to seek Daemon’s attention constantly. 

“Of course I do, princess.” Daemon rubs his nose again against her nose and then turns back to the grill machine. “And apparently they're dating with Crispin hoping it will make us jealous.”

“They are so stupid.” Rhaenyra huffs. 

“Exactly.” Daemon huffs too. 

“And they don't look like a couple at all.”

“We look like a couple.” Daemon says somehow quickly and swallows hard. 

And her heart stops for a few moments. Rhaenyra knows he meant it all as a joke. Yeah, people mistake them for a couple a lot, but this doesn’t mean anything. So she pats him on the chest:

“Because we are besties, Daemon.” Rhaenyra kisses his cheek and moves away from him. “I need to talk to … Laena.” And she makes a fast exit to find Laena. 

God. She longs to be his.

[whentherewerebicycles]

okay hello! instead of doing all my 2023 priority-setting in one long post, I’m going to divide it up into separate posts to encourage myself to really think through the concrete things I want to prioritize or achieve this year (and the specific habits I’ll need to build to make that happen).

Priority 1: Become a More Competent & Confident Cook

This year, I want to…

(1) Master the basic principles of cooking. I’d like to be able to confidently and consistently prepare delicious foods using a range of methods (roasting, sauteing, braising, simmering, etc.). I’d also like to be able to more confidently taste and adjust elements as I cook.

(2) Consistently eat balanced, plant-based, mostly vegan meals. I want to focus on eating a wide variety of healthful foods and on adapting meals wherever possible to incorporate more vegetables. Some more specific sub-goals:

I want to prepare 25 new recipes with a focus on recipes from around the world.

I want to try the following vegetables (all of which are either new to me or veggies I’m suspicious of): leeks, fennel, swiss chard, one new type of beans, radish, rhubarb, okra, eggplant, endive.

I want to taste, smell, and research the uses of one new spice in my cabinet per week, adding these notes to my cooking project doc and eventually to my recipe book. (I don’t really have a good sense right now of what different spices taste like or how they influence the flavor of a dish and I’d like to change that!)

(3) Create a photo-illustrated recipe book with at least 25 of my favorite easy-to-prep recipes.

How will I achieve these goals?

Becoming a more confident cook:

First, I’ll read Salt, Fat, Acid, Heat over the month of January. Instead of taking notes, I want to create a list of techniques or things I’d like to try or think about as I cook. My cooking skills are super basic so even super basic techniques will be helpful lol.

I don’t want to try to implement all the new strategies at once or I’ll get overwhelmed. So instead I’ll choose one technique to practice in my cooking each week. The learning cycle might look like this:

Start of the week: Look at the recipes I want to make that week, make my grocery list, and pick a new technique to practice from the list. (I can choose recipes that use that technique or choose a technique based on the recipes I’m planning to make.) Write the new technique + rewrite the older techniques on a dry erase board next to the stove so I’m reminded of them every time I walk into the kitchen. (I can habit-stack this with other household tasks I perform regularly, like cleaning out the fridge and placing a grocery order, as well as with other goal tasks, like spice tasting.)

During the week: Practice the technique(s) while cooking. If I’m struggling with something, watch YouTube videos, do research, or ask a friend till I feel confident I’m doing it correctly. Consider jotting down notes on how the food turned out.

End of week: Evaluate how confident I feel in my ability to perform the technique. In the list document, write down any questions or concerns I have (or any tips for doing it well). Remember that I’ll practice that technique twice more, since the two previous weeks roll over into the next week.

Eating balanced meals & trying new things:

Make it a game! Get excited about the process! Some strategies:

When I’m procrastinating on other things, do food or spice research. Search for different recipes by country or in-season veggie and look at lots of different pictures of the food.

Keep a running wishlist of recipes that look delicious or would be interestingly novel to try. Color-code or tag recipes that use specific techniques I want to practice, spices I want to try, or vegetables I want to learn to enjoy.

Challenge myself to modify recipes when possible, whether by making interesting or healthier substitutions or sneaking in more veggies.

Creating the recipe book:

Take photos of every meal I prepare (and the prep steps too if they’re pretty!) so I can print them later at Walgreens. To keep myself motivated maybe I’ll do a batch print every month or something and display the pictures in the kitchen lol.

Write up recipes for Tumblr at least semi-consistently so I have a record of simplified steps or substitutions I made.

Continue brainstorming & provisionally sorting recipes into categories with Liz. Right now we’ve been experimenting with sorting them by ease of preparation (on a spectrum of fast, simple, low-mess to messier or more complicated with a special section for meals that can be made ahead and/or frozen in bulk). But hmm I wonder if other possible sorting methods will emerge as I amass more recipes. I might also just make a veggie/main ingredient index for the binder where I can look up the vegetable I have in the fridge or picked up at the store and see all the recipes that use that vegetable. We also talked about designing other fun little pages that could help solidify our learning while also serving as future teaching tools with a kid… like charts of average roast/sautée times for different veggies… although I wonder if the goal will eventually be to not have to use timers so much because I’ll have a better sense of what something looks like when it’s done. But yeah these can all be open questions!!

Why is this goal important to me?

Preparing good, healthy food is a way of taking care of myself. When I am under stress or feeling bleh about my life or my body or whatever, I tend to lean more heavily on takeout, processed foods, or intermittent grazing. I have the time to cook thanks to my stupid flexible job, so I want to be sure that I’m using that time well and taking good care of myself even when I feel kinda bleh about certain aspects of my life.

I want to use this window of time to really learn and solidify skills I’ve been picking up piecemeal over the past six-ish years since I started trying to learn how to make food for myself. I also just like the idea of approaching cooking as a learning challenge! In the past I’ve tended to kinda lazily assume that people were either good cooks or they weren’t and it wasn’t worth worrying about it if you were a mediocre cook who could at least prepare a few mediocre things. But I think it’s nice to actually WANT to get better! And I think (surprise, surprise) I’ll really enjoy the process of setting concrete goals, designing learning tasks for myself, and assessing my progress over the course of the year. Plus maybe this will encourage me to invite friends over more often so I can make them try stuff :)

If I have or adopt or foster kids, I want to be able to teach them the basics of cooking good, delicious, healthy food from a very young age. I also want to nurture their curiosity about food and willingness to experiment in the kitchen. I honestly don’t know that my parenting style will differ that much from my own parents’ style, but I do think there are a few core things I want to tweak… and one of the biggest changes is I want to expose my kids to a wide variety of foods early and help them learn how to confidently prepare food that tastes good.

[librathefangirl]

I don't pay attention for two seconds to the buttons I'm clicking and suddenly I'm having to refollow you, oops. XD

I wanted to say congrats on your poll results, it looks like you got a good response - and hope the writing goes well!

I'm excited to see your take on demon cuisine, and as it goes, I made this snippet of a one-shot some months ago where Mel tries to make food with non-demon ingredients and Zeldris instantly recognizes it as his brother's cooking. I didn't even get as far as to where they eat it but that's just one of like ten fics to finish. The "cooking" was a raw mixture of ground beef from a mixed assortment of nearby animals and also forest berries. (He put the organs he thought Zel would like best separately.)

anyway, here's a drabble of Mel and Ellie baking together as a treat!

Elizabeth: I don't understand. How come Gloxinia didn't like the apple pie? Was it the recipe? Was it the apples? It's true I never cooked before but I didn't think it would be that hard... I mean, baking is a science, right? I can do science. I can do military strategy.

Meliodas: I don't know what baking is. But I have cooked before and can definitely help.

E: Really?

M: Yep! So what you got?

E: Well it's for four people so... 20 apples ( thought 40 was a bit too much), 4 cups of flour, 4 cups of sugar, 4 tablespoons of vanilla and cinnamon, and 4 cups of salt

M: Ah. So you see Elizabeth all you need for complex cooking is three things: a base, a flavoring, and time! So, which one is the flavoring?

E: the apples!

M: Right! so everything else is just whatever you need plus whatever you want it to taste like. Do you like your apple thing salty?

E: mm, no...

M: Great. Don't need salt then.

E: I think I get it, you just have to adjust the recipe until it suits you, right?

M: exactly! That's how you get the most delicious dishes after all!

E: Well.... uh... since you're here and all, do you wanna make it together then?

M: More time with you? Can't say no to that!

M: Plus, I'm really curious what apples are.

*The apple pie is twice as horrible *

Oh I can relate to that! XD Except for me it's usually the opposite, accidentally following porn bots instead of blocking them 🙈

Thanks! I'm thrilled for the response I got (40 votes!), it went a lot better than I thought. I hope the writing goes well too 😅 But lately I've been able to write a lot more, so hopefully it stays that way.

I'm really excited to write this fic!! Tho I haven't thought much about the demon cuisine yet tbh, but I think I have a few ideas on how to approach the subject, so we'll see what happens.

Omg the way that "cooking" sounds both sweet and utterly horrifying at the same time XD

Oh that drabble is hilarious (and terrifying - who let those two bake??). I feel bad for Gloxinia, poor guy's gotta be traumatized by apple pies after that 😂😅

[hellionamaruq]

In honor of Filipino heritage month, I aim to learn more about the culture where my mom's (and dad's dad) family grew up in. My mom is from the Philippines and grew up there, and my dad's dad grew up there. My dad has visited twice, and I have never been. I have family that live there and family FROM there, yet I never engaged with the culture all too much because this is sadly America, lol. Day 7: Foods These are some really amazing foods I grew up loving. My abuelita always made Filipino foods, and these were my top 5. I hold these foods close, as they were the only real way of connecting with any sort of Filipino culture growing up. From left to right we have a bowl of puspas, a glass of kalamansi juice, pancit, lumpia, and ensaymada balls. There are lots more I could also include, but just wouldn't have time to draw, haha! Puspas - in simple terms, it's like chicken and rice porridge. Typically there are ginger chunks mixed in, making it really good for clearing up any sickness. You can also add in green onion and lemon/lime juice for extra flavor and zest. This is a basic household staple and really easy to make; typically eaten as a quick lunch. Kalamansi Juice - kalamansi is essentially a small, really sour, citrus fruit (it's like an orange, just tiny and hella sour). This can be squeezed and added to food for flavor, but personally, I love it as a juice. Fresh-squeezed kalamansi juice with a little bit of sugar (but not enough to remove the sour) really hit different during summer as a kid. Again, another household staple that can be easily made, but may not be sold in regular stores in the U.S. Pancit - there are various types of pancit, but my favorite is made with angel hair noodles and chicken cooked in oil (NOT FRIED) sprinkled with green onion, bok choy, and/or leaks. This dish is ALWAYS at a large gathering and ALWAYS at any Philippine-based restaurant and is also extremely common. Hearing the sizzle of this in any place truly let you know you were with family and were gonna have a good-ass time. This has become a somewhat more known food in the U.S, so I'm happy more people know about it! Lumpia - this is a food many know the Philippines for. It's essentially a small meatroll, the meat usually being pork or beef being fried in a pan with some sort of sauce as a side to dip in. This is to not be confused with SPRING ROLLS which have vegetables, lumpia has NO vegetables at all. You'll usually eat these alongside a meal, like a passable plate of sorts, because many are usually made at a time. Ensaymadas - These babies originate from Spain, but the way the Philippines has adapted them has made them 100x better. This slightly sweet bread is honestly such a perfect treat after a meal, especially when fresh. These were never made for me personally, but whenever they were bought (obviously from a Philippine bakery) they were SO GOOD! You could typically also pop it in your mouth, so these were gone pretty quick, haha! Follow me here: www.instagram.com/helliondraws…  , TikTok (HellionAmaruq), hellionamaruq.tumblr.com/ , twitter.com/HellionAmaruq www.reddit.com/user/HellionAma… Commissions: hellionamaruq.carrd.co/

[potatoes83]

Random...

Had to drop the Wrangler off at Belle Tire yesterday; found a nail way too close to the sidewall, and the 7 year old tires were starting to dryrot in the treads. I live about 2 1/2 miles away, so I walked back home. Got a big bastarding blood blister on the ball of my foot, right behind the index and middle toes, size of a quarter. That's obnoxious.

Stayed up late, slept in, creatures fed, me fed, laundry and dishes going. It's funny how things change when you're an adult; you used to tell your friends about your newest action figure or whatever, now it's like, oh yeah, got a new dishwasher... yeah, stainless steel, you'd better believe it... no, three freaking racks, I know, right???

I am still annoyed by the fact that the dishwasher takes like 2 1/2 hours to run the dishes. The old one took about an hour. And it's not like I desperately need the dishes like I'm running this thing back to back in a restaurant or something, we've been lazy this week, so there's every bit of a second load to go in, but it's not like the washing machine where you have a finite amount of time to get everything done over the weekend. It doesn't really matter how long the dishwasher takes, truth be told, but I'm still trying to wrap my head around the whole it runs so much longer so it can save energy thing. Last I checked, with electrical appliances, the longer they run, the more they cost you. And I know, the heating element is probably half the size, the pump is smaller, and I hear it in there spraying rack by rack, instead of just a massive cascade of water, but once again, if you have something that's half the size running twice as long, it seems like that would be as much if not more energy.

What I really hate is the way that with all this energy efficiency nonsense, your everyday families are really being priced out of being able to afford appliances. Like it's one thing if you're making the decision to spend more money on the higher efficiency model that uses less water and allegedly less energy, that's you making that choice with your dollars based on your lifestyle. But if you just need a replacement dishwasher, never mind the fact that the cheap ones are prohibitively expensive compared to what they used to be, they also just don't work as well. You're really forced to buy something upper end just for it to do what it's supposed to do. This dishwasher works great, yes it does, no one's questioning this. For over $1,000 it better. You buy a cheap one these days, and because it's sitting there saving energy at you, you got to run half the dishes through again. Unless you're one of those people who pre washes them with soap and water before they go in the dishwasher, in which case what's the point? But I know there was a significant period of my working life where there was no way in hell I could spend this kind of coin on a dishwasher. Hell, I had the basic rebuilt washer and dryer from the local used appliance store, $150 each out the door, if they lasted you a couple years, they had paid for themselves. And there was nothing wrong with that. And even in this case, a thousand bucks isn't walking around money, it's by the grace of the Home Depot consumer credit card letting me use their money for 6 months interest free that this dishwasher is a thing.

I've said this before, I'm not a masochist when it comes to my energy bills and whatnot. Everything costs way too much money, and we work far too hard just to pay for our utilities. But let me make that decision. That's what it boils down to. Because some people can't. Oh, what you save in electricity and water, that makes up the cost of the dishwasher, yeah that's cute, but you're talking about long-term costs versus upfront costs. I'm sitting here right now looking at seven light bulbs, none of which are on, but back in the day those would be 60 watts if not greater. Each. That's a hell of a lot of wattage. So I'm running energy efficient light bulbs, I still have quite a few cfls, a smattering of leds, because I didn't go throwing everything I bought away when the next technology came down the road. But I also remember when you get a box of 60 watt standard light bulbs for like 80 cents or some nonsense. So if I want to save the energy, I can spend five bucks a light bulb or whatever the hell it is these days, but what if I don't have that luxury. What if I just need some light in my kitchen, and things are really tight, what do I do then?

The choice needs to be in the hands of the consumer. And that can't be a Sophie's choice of choosing between affordability or something that actually works. Also, affordability needs to be determined by real people, not a bunch of bureaucrats pulling down comfortable six figure salaries. That's not reasonable. And it's not helping anybody. If I need to buy something basic, with less fancy functions, less energy efficiency, but it will still do the job I need it to, that needs to be my decision. 🥔

[xtrablak674]

Barefoot in the Night

[Originally posted on Ello on 7 November 2017 Journal Entry by @trevor_brown_artist]

As I released my bladder and aimed the flow of water I heard a "HERE", I looked over my right shoulder, not sure why since I live alone and the sound sounded like it came from a speaker.

That couldn't be my plug-in speakers, because they were unplugged and my Bluetooth was powered down, more importantly neither of these speakers was anywhere near me in the bathroom which is the farthest room in my studio apartment. I am not sure if it was "here" or if it was something else, but it wasn't the splashing of my voiding in the water below, that was the only thing I should have heard.

Forty one degrees, the lowest temperature to date that I had traversed to the bank and to the supermarket had been sixty, this morning we would try out this real winter temperature and see how I fared. Albeit, there is that word sneaking into my writing again, I seriously use it at least once a day, I really need to reach for the thesaurus the next time this word comes to mind. Damn it, now I forgot what I was going to 'albeit' about taking the time to follow that last thought off an artistic cliff. Clearly it wasn't that important.

Bundled up in layers a scarf and a hat. I slipped my sneakers into the purple bag Mr. Berry bought back for me from Thailand and headed out the door. This had been my first time leaving the house since I think Friday and since I was so well stocked and now the heat was on, I was not apt to leave the house at all. I still had a moment around five thirty to go up to the roof and check to see if number five was open, it wasn't. Those roof checks I don't really see as leaving the house, I equate going out of my front door, which still has a broken pane as 'leaving the house', and this time I was only going to do three things, take the trash out, get my cash benefits from the bank and restock my groceries.

I preferred to do these things in the cloak of night because I was more apt to interact with the minimal amount of people. It is funny I live in one of the most populace cities in the world and I make a consorted effort at avoiding interaction with other carbon based bipedal lifeforms.

Speaking of I come across a nocturnal quadrupedal of the feline species, I think my silence scared it. I also stopped to see what she would do, she thought this wasn't a good situation and turned around and headed back out into the street. I called out to her to watch out for the traffic.

My thoughts wandered over my last conversation with my brother, when I had told him that I walk to the supermarket barefoot twice a month, he had thought it not safe because of debris. I told him what kind of neighborhood do you think I live in. The block I walk down has four million dollar brownstones, you know they make an effort to keep their sidewalks clean, and particularly since my destination is in the direction of the more affluent neighborhood everything is actually better maintained the closer I get to the Slope.

Cold, that is the big difference in cooler weather. I actually loose sensation in my feet due to cold weather. Which is perfectly logical, so I decide to slip into my sneakers when I get to the bank, after the nervous hello I received from the doorman on the corner. Loss sensation is hustling backwards, I go shoeless to feel more sensation. I allow my feet the warmth they need as I head to the supermarket. The bench of the Hungry Ghost is empty I am guessing it is too cold for the homeless man who I have seen there the last couple of months to be out, I am not surprised. Silently I hope that he's doing okay.

In the supermarket I instantly realize I have abso-smurfly no appetite. My diet of the last week of pre-sliced cake, oatmeal and pasta has left me quite full. I knew that I wanted to diversify my diet tonight so I grab about six of the pre-made dishes, so edamame, microwavable bacon, chicken nuggets which were on sale, margarine also on sale (for my pasta), Entenmann's Pop'Ems three for $9.99, I get one box. As I pass the dairy section one of my favorite seasonal beverages calls to me EGG NOG, and they have like six different kinds, I decide against the pumpkin because of the orange dyes and I go with the vanilla egg nog, which will make an excellent sweetener on my oatmeal. The last things I pick up as I approach the register are some dried mangos slices and some dried cantaloupe slices, which I call my healthy snack, when I truly don't have any idea whose healthy these pre-packaged dried foods are.

Back outside I decide to walk the first block in shoes and take my sneakers off after that. I notice a car idling across the street with its hazard lights on, I still proceed to slip off my beige Puma ninja sneakers. I slip them into the top of my very full bag and step out into the street which is covered with a few autumn leaves. My second brain thinks, who cares what they think they are your feet.

Other than a biker I at first mistaken for a delivery person my trip back home is uneventful. Barefooted I walk up my carpeted stairs into my darkened apartment, put my bag down, disrobe then put my groceries away. I haven't been up at this time in a while I feel like I should go back to bed, but that experience in the bathroom inspires me to capture the moment before I loose it. Groceries in their place, I sit my bare ass in my Herman Miller chair, pull my laptop closer and begin to write.

[Well its 2024 right now, and '17 was seven years ago, so much can happen in seven years. The brother I mention is now dead of chronic obstructive pulmonary disease from his excessive smoking, making his children partial orphans. I recall telling him many times to take better care of himself so he could be there for his children, but ultimately his personal demons won out.

I am no longer on public assistance, us parting ways a little after my time with the Census, the first job I had in these seven years. Listening to the things on my grocery list I had to be heavier but my weight yoyo's all the time, sometimes I am up sometimes I am down. I still try to have outdoors barefoot time, mostly in the park, not recently on the neighborhood sidewalks.

I also enjoyed my voice in this journal entry, in fact I always enjoy my written voice, it's very close to my spoken voice and the thoughts in my head, not that I think this is a special skill. I just like to be clear and plain in my meaning and nuance. Curiously I am still avoiding people, now only leaving the house for my walks around the park during the week, or grocery runs if the weather is warmer, otherwise just deliveries.

There has to be something behind my wanting to avoid folks, I think part of it is avoiding judgement and unwarranted stares. People don't realize even without saying a word, they speak volumes, and I am just at a point in my life where I don't want either verbal or non-verbal responses. I just want to be, to exist un-faltered by anyone's notion of who or what I should be.]

[Photo by Brown Estate]

[walkingscottst]

BLOG 5: ENVIRONMENTAL IMPACTS OF TOURISM

I hate to admit it, but I did not know about the 1989 Exxon oil spill in Alaska. I was shocked, not only by the devastating shots of the oil slick beach, but by the fact that it still remains that way today! I want to say I was surprised by the fact that they got out of paying the majority of what they owed, but the unfortunate truth of the world we live in is that big companies with lots of power tend not to be burdened with the consequences of their actions.

Tourism as an industry has a responsibility to preserve the environment, because they will live and die symbiotically. From an idealistic perspective, the tourism industry should take care of the environment because it is the right thing to do, and we should be respectful and loving to the environment that we live in. From a capitalistic perspective, the tourism industry should take care of the environment because it has to. If the environment is no longer thriving, neither will the tourism industry.

The statistics on tourism in the Gulf region following the BP oil spill were STAGGERING! I had little frame of reference for how I thought tourism in the Gulf would be impacted by the oil spill, but the thing that was most interesting was the number of people who cancelled travel plans to Gulf-adjacent locations that, for the purpose of tourism, were not directly impacted by the oil spill. Not only that, but how many people made their decisions based on misinformation. We live in a world where information is taken out of context, for face value, and without follow-up. The Florida Keys did not need oil on their beaches to feel the negative effects of the BP oil spill, all they needed was the reputation of having been effected by the disaster. The clickbait culture of the internet is a petri-dish for misinformation, no matter how much evidence may exist otherwise.

I wish I could say that a disaster like Deepwater Horizon was enough to revolutionize the oil industry. And maybe it will make people think twice, at least for a minute. But women who swear they will never again during childbirth have another baby nine months later, and you never appreciate how good it is to be well until you're sick. Everyone who worked in the oil industry on April 20th 2010 will retire someday. Eventually, in a future not too far away, Deepwater Horizon will be remembered as a cautionary tale that happened to other people in some other time, because everything is always just "something that happens to other people" until the day that it happens to us.

I'm sure that the executive who made the call to run the rig after the high pressure result came back thought he was just speeding things up and cutting through some tape. Deepwater was voted the safest rig for so many years, how could just one result turn the tides? It was safe for a reason, and that reason was Jimmy's extreme attention to safety and detail, carried out through the trusting relationship he had with his team. It was just one decision made by one person, but it set in motion a butterfly effect that had an absolutely devastating impact on people, creatures, and the environment.

I can't always remember quotes, usually they are paraphrased in the back of my mind somewhere until all I can remember is half the sentiment, but this one I'll always remember, and it feels right to add it here now.

"The only thing that we learn from history is that we learn nothing from history." -- Georg Hegel

And I really hope that I'm wrong, and we learn from our mistakes, and that people do better. But I read the statistics on recent oil spills, spills I've never even heard of that still pollute the earth just as irreversibly as the ones that make headlines. And yet, still, I really hope we can start to remember.

[nachers]

3 11 13 (for video game asks)

yay yippee. I typed up much more than I anticipated, I enjoy thinking about my little games.

1-3 games you’ve played in the past 12 months that you really enjoyed

Resident Evil 4 Remake

A perfect translation of the original game, they got a 10/10 twice out of RE4.

It keeps the same structure of the original while updating the gameplay in a way that makes sense as both a more direct sequel to RE2Remake and as a reimagining of RE4. The game feels so fucking good to play, they updated the high-pressure combat by making it feel breakneck. Since the player has more mobility than they ever had in the original, the enemies have also become aggressive as hell, sometimes overbearing. I've never said "fuck offff" so much while playing a game (non-pejorative), and the village fight at the beginning was insane to experience for the first time again. Check it out, Leon is the hottest guy this summer.

Plate Up A fun "roguelike" kitchen management game where you run around, cook, serve miserable customers their food, and find more efficient ways to do it. Absolute blast with friends, but just as fun alone if you're like me and like cooking gay little meals. Since it has to do with optimizing a process, it tickles all the funny parts in my brain and makes me feel super involved. Even better in coop where you have more than one person saying "no, I think we should do the kitchen like this. It's got a fine progression system that keeps you hooked for the first few hours, with unlocking new foods to cook and new items to use on future playthroughs, but honestly the gameplay loop has me hooked like a bird on nectar. Check it out, it's got the hottest dish this summer.

Analogue: A Hate Story

A visual novel I picked up on a whim and felt focused enough to finish reading playing in one sitting. I haven't played many visual novels, but the way A Hate Story presented its story was great. You piece together a story of what happened in a space colony by reading diary entries of different people, and you unlock different "threads" of diaries as you read through them. You make assumptions about one character based on what someone writes about them, and then get a different angle when you read that character's diary entry. I don't want to get too into it since it's fun piecing together exactly what's going on, it's far from a typical "scifi space colony" story. Check it out, it's got the hottest AI this summer.

Many other games from the past year I enjoyed, 3 is too few to list. These are all just from the past month. Shouts out to Roadwarden, Dragon's Dogma, the entire Hitman series, Mini Metro, Mini Motorways, Project Zomboid, etc etc etc too manny games...

Do you prefer ‘blank slate’ main characters you make yourself or otherwise project onto, or characters with a set personality and backstory?

Either is fine with me, just depends on what I'm playing. The only games I ever "self insert" in are Animal Crossing an Pokemon, something about those games has me thinking "don't get it twisted, I am doing all this". Otherwise with games where you make your own character like Fallout or Dragon's Dogma, I make just make an OC and play with them like dolls. Characters with set personalities are also fun to play with dolls, I like twirling my hair when I play with Leon RE4. Even games where you play as a set character but still have dialogue choices are fun. Stuff like Disco Elysium, The Walking Dead, Deus Ex Human Revolution is all great because they manage to give you just enough character and let you steer them in a direction. The only game I can think of at the moment where I actively disliked its player/character set up is Cyberpunk 2077. It plays it kind of in the middle, where you totally create V's appearance and character build, but I was just not a fan of how they handled the actual character dialogue and motivation. Ideally, it is supposed to be an RPG where you build your own character, choose your backstory, and play through at your own pace. In contrast to that, you are also playing as V, who has their own set personality, tone, and motivations that can sometimes play against whatever you may have imagined for your own character. It just never clicked with me, either make them a silent protagonist with a wider variety of dialogue like Fallout New Vegas, or make V a set character who you play as.

Quick, name the first song from a game that comes to mind

Find Your One Way from da Guilty Gear Strive soundtrack. Not even my favorite song from the soundtrack but it was the first. Check out the entire soundtrack on Spotify dot come, it has the hottest sounds of the summer. Some of my favorites are Rock Parade Mirror of the World The Circle What do you fight for Crawl