#Non-Veg Dish

[rudrjobdesk]

Mughlai Pulao Recipe: घर पर बनाएं काजू और बादाम वाला 'मुगलई पुलाव', जिंदगीभर नहीं भूल पाएंगे स्वाद

Mughlai Pulao Recipe: घर पर बनाएं काजू और बादाम वाला ‘मुगलई पुलाव’, जिंदगीभर नहीं भूल पाएंगे स्वाद

मुगलई पुलाव रेसिपी (Mughlai Pulao Recipe): अब तक आपने बिरयानी और पुलाव कई बार खाया होगा. कई लोगों को पुलाव खाना बेहद पसंद होता है. क्या आपने कभी ‘मुगलई पुलाव’ ट्राई किया है? चिकन, काजू, बादाम और पिस्ता से सजा हुआ मुगलई पुलाव खाने के बाद आप इसका स्वाद हमेशा याद रखेंगे. वैसे तो अक्सर लोग इसे रेस्टोरेंट में जाकर खाते हैं, लेकिन आप स्वादिष्ट मुगलई पुलाव घर पर भी तैयार कर सकते हैं. आज आपको घर पर मुगलई…

[fallout-lou-begas]

i became a vegetarian at the start of the summer of this year not out of any particular guilt-driven or ethics reasons but because i felt like my relationship to food had become very stagnant and borderline disassociative, where i never thought about what i would eat and would rely on the same few easy things all the time, and i needed something to give me both structure and a forced reason to actually acknowledge the food that i ate.

and it has really worked. i'm trying a lot of new things all year, and finding new favorite foods (poblano peppers! heirloom tomatoes!), and as a home cook i have been seeking out and preparing new recipes like never before which has been very fulfilling for not just my diet but my creativity and my hobbyism. this lifestyle change has succeeded exactly how i hoped it would by forcing me to create a brand new relationship to food!

and although it wasn't my intention i do in fact feel less ambient environmental and ethical guilt about my part as a consumer in industrialized meat production (and obviously individual choice has significant material limits which i don't hold against anyone, but still).

and i just think this has been really cool and if you feel like you're in a similar spot with your relationship to food then maybe consider it, even as a short-term experiment

[keventeragro]

Creamy Pea Soup | Christmas Recipes | Keventer

Warm up your evenings with the richness of Creamy Pea Soup, enhanced by high-quality Keventer Frozen Peas. A soul-soothing recipe that brings comfort to your table. Read more, https://www.keventer.com/media/recipes/xmas-recipe/creamy-pea-soup/

[theallahabadirestaurant]

Allahabadi Restaurant: A Culinary Symphony of Vegetarian, Non-vegetarian, and Seafood Delights

Welcome to Allahabadi Restaurant, best veg and non veg restaurant in Indore. The Allahabadi is Indore's ultimate culinary destination offering a delectable fusion of vegetarian, non-vegetarian, and seafood delights. Immerse yourself in a gastronomic journey where the rich flavors of Allahabad come to life, creating an unparalleled dining experience. Indulge in a diverse menu that caters to all tastes, showcasing the finest ingredients and culinary expertise. Allahabadi Restaurant promises a memorable rendezvous with authentic flavors and warm hospitality, making it a must-visit for connoisseurs seeking a truly delightful dining affair in Indore.

Click here to order now!

[bitesbee]

Top 10 famous Indian rice dishes you must try

Get ready to embark on a tasteful journey of India’s top 10 favourite rice dishes. But before we dig into these delectable delights, let’s take a quick detour into the fascinating history of rice in India. From ancient grains to modern foodie wonders, rice has woven itself into the tapestry of our culinary heritage, and we’re here to spill beans (or rather grains)! Rice, often referred to as the ‘king of grains’, has an illustrious history in India, dating back thousands of years. Legend has it that rice was cultivated in the Indian Sub-Continent around 5000 B.C. by the Indus Valley Civilization, which settled around the fertile banks of the Indus River. Over time this grain became deeply intertwined with the fabric of Indian culture and cuisine. Rice wasn’t just a humble grain; it was an emblem of prosperity and abundance. Ancient scriptures and folk tales often mention rice as a symbol of fertility, purity, and good fortune. From lavish feasts fit for a king to family meals, rice found its way into every nook and corner of Indian homes.

Rice cultivation flourished in various regions of India, thanks to the country’s diverse climate and geography. From the lush paddy of South India to the terraced hillsides of the North, rice quickly became the staple food of millions of people across the nation. Its versatility, adaptability, and nutritional value made it an essential ingredient in countless famous Indian rice dishes, both sweet and savoury.

Importance of Rice in India Well, apart from being utterly delicious, rice is a key player in our diet for various reasons. It’s not only a rich source of carbohydrates but also provides essential nutrients like vitamins, minerals, and dietary fibre. Plus, it’s gluten-free, making it a go-to option for those with dietary restrictions. Rice is the foundation upon which our vibrant curries, delectable gravies, and flavorful stir-fries shine. It brings people together, creating culinary magic that unites taste buds across the nation. Here are some reasons why rice is so loved in India. 1. Versatility Rice can transform itself into a myriad of flavours and textures, adapting to every region and its unique culinary traditions. From fluffy and fragrant basmati to sticky and satisfying varieties, there is a rice dish to suit every palate. 2. Comfort Food Extraordinary

When we talk about comfort food, rice takes the crown. A warm plate of rice, accompanied by soul-soothing curries or a dollop of ghee, has the power to heal a bad day and feel the bliss of good food. 3. Community and Culture

In India, rice often symbolizes togetherness and celebration. It forms the backbone of elaborate feasts during festivals, weddings, and family gatherings, bringing people together in a delicious union. Top 10 Famous Indian Rice Dishes You Can’t Live Without We’ve got the scoop on the top 10 Indian Rice dishes that are loved by everyone from North to South and East to West. 1. Veg Fried Rice

This sizzling rice with a colourful medley of veggies, soy sauce, and aromatic slices, all stir-fried to perfection. Bursting with flavours and textures, veg fried rice is a crowd-pleaser that brings smiles to every palate. It’s a go-to dish for Chinese Cuisine enthusiasts across India. 2. Egg Fried Rice

This dish takes veg fried rice to the next level by adding scrambled eggs into the mix. The combination of fluffy rice, veggies, and scrambled eggs creates a harmonious blend of flavours that’ll have you asking for seconds (or thirds). Indian Egg Fried Rice is quite popular among working people and college students. 3. Plain Rice

Sometimes, simplicity steals the show! Plain rice, with its comforting nature, provides the perfect canvas for other dishes to shine. It’s a staple in Indian households and accompanies a variety of curries, dals, and other delectable sides. This unassuming dish holds a special place in our hearts and forms the backbone of many regional cuisines. 4. Jeera Rice

Jeera rice combines fragrant Basmati rice with the warm and earthy flavours of cumin seeds. The result? A heavenly dish that perfectly compliments a wide range of curries, dals, and gravies. Jeera rice is popular in North Indian and Punjabi Cuisines. 5. Veg Pulao

Indian veg pulao is a rice dish cooked with aromatic spices, mixed vegetables, and fragrant Basmati rice. This delightful one-pot wonder is loved for its balance of flavours and the ability to please both vegetarians and non-vegetarians. 6. Biryani

Bow down to the mighty biryani, the reigning monarch of rice dishes! This regal delicacy combines fragrant Basmati rice with a harmonious blend of succulent meats (or veggies), aromatic spices, and layers of flavours. Indian veg biryani and non-veg biryani is celebrated throughout India, with each region offering its unique spin on these royal treats. Hyderabad, Lucknow, and Kolkata are renowned for their delectable biryanis.

7. Lemon Rice

When life gives you lemons, make lemon rice! Tangy, flavorful, and so refreshing, this South Indian speciality is a burst of sunshine on your plate. Cooked rice is tossed with a vibrant tempering of mustard seeds, curry leaves, turmeric, and a generous squeeze of lemon juice. It’s a popular hit in cities like Chennai and Bengaluru. 8. Curd Rice

Looking for a bowl of comfort on a hot day? Curd rice to the rescue! It’s a simple yet delightful dish that combines cooked rice with curd (yogurt), tempered with mustard seeds, curry leaves, and a sprinkle of love. This cooling treat is cherished in regions like Tamil Nadu and Andhra Pradesh. 9. Khichdi

Khichdi is the epitome of comfort food. This one-pot food brings together rice, lentils, and a variety of spices to create a wholesome and nourishing meal. Loved for its simplicity and soul-soothing qualities, khichdi finds its loyal fan base all over India, with Gujarati and Bengali cuisines showcasing their own delightful variations.

10. Kheer

Last but certainly not least, we have the beloved Kheer. This creamy, dreamy rice pudding is a celebration of flavours. Slow-cooked rice, simmered in milk, sweetened with sugar, and garnished with nuts and saffron-it’s a dessert fit for royalty. Conclusion... There you have it- the crème de la crème of Indian rice dishes! From the sizzling stir-fries to the aromatic pulao and the regal biryanis, each dish has its unique charm. So, go ahead and explore the flavours of India, and indulge in these rice wonders who have captured the hearts (and stomachs)of millions.

[dalcheenivn]

The Best Indian Food in Ho Chi Minh | Best Authentic Indian Cuisine

One of the best Indian food in ho chi minh. The foods are wow delicious with Indian tastes. The minus there is I waited too long to have lunch DalCheeni is a Fine Dining Indian restaurant serving Royal Indian Cuisine in Ho Chi Minh, Vietnam. We bring to you the best and the most royal of Indian.

Visit must Indian restaurants in Ho Chi Minh -

[suchananewsblog]

Chewy Mutton No More! Cook Soft, Juicy And Tender Mutton With These Tips

There are staunch mutton lovers who won’t settle for any other meat but mutton. We are sure you know many of them, or maybe, you are one yourself. For mutton buffs, the dish has to be perfect. But the problem with cooking mutton is that it’s difficult to get it right. One small misstep and you get chewy and dry meat, which is really a disappointment. But there are people who manage to get soft…

[chillipeppersca]

Indo Chinese Restaurant - Chilli Peppers

[frankiensteinsmonster]

Is it invalid to worry about your environmental impact as a person who lives on this planet (especially when loads of other people seem to live in ignorant bliss or openly just do not care)?

Not at all.

But as disabled people* I really think we should allow ourselves those accommodations we need/that would make our lives easier.

Bottled body wash lathers easier and saves you that tiny bit of energy while you're washing up? Can't seem take care of your bar of soap so it runs out fast because it's always wet and actively makes your bathroom harder to clean? You deserve to preserve your energy and keep yourself clean. Use it.

Bottled water means your executive dysfunction won't get in the way of you getting hydrated? Means you can keep water by your bed so you don't have to endure the physical pain of walking to the kitchen? Means your OCD symptoms won't prevent you from drinking water for hours-days at a time? You deserve to drink water without stressing. Drink it.

Paper plates and plastic utensils mean you get to eat without having to worry about dishes + prevents you from having an overwhelming sink full of every dish you own covered in rotting, smelly food that may even attract bugs and cause them to breed in your sink? You deserve to eat freely and live in a clean and safe environment. Use them.

Can't wash clothes on the regular let alone cleaning rags due to energy/executive function, ability, finances, ect.? Use paper towels. For whatever reason you need them. Spills so you don't take up your only clean towel and risk it sitting + developing mold and mildew. Wiping off your counters. Dusting. Drying your dishes. Drying your hands. I literally do not give a fuck. Use them!

Use frozen vegetables that come in plastic bags and frozen meals that come in single use plastic and floss sticks and plastic cups and precut fruit and veg and whatever little necessary 'convenience' you can think of that makes your life easier. Just because you Technically, Physically can pull it off doesn't mean you should and it's important we think about the consequences of our actions even if we're the only ones really impacted by them. You're important. And for a lot of us, these things are what makes the difference between Getting Things Done At All and sitting in shame because we can't bring ourselves to make our own everything and do everything the long or right way. We put too much pressure on ourselves to make up for what abled people aren't doing themselves. If Anybody deserves a break it's us.

Don't misconstrue this as discouragement from doing what you can or whatever, but I need all of us to be a lot more realistic about what impacts our lives and which trade offs are worth it for our own sake.

It's unfortunate that we don't have options for more sustainable resources when it comes to taking care of ourselves, but it shouldn't fall on us to choose between a significantly more difficult life or feeling guilt free. Advocate where you can for better treatment of the planet, and until that can happen-- non-disabled people can and should pick up the slack for us. They literally have that option and the impact they face is an infinitesimal inconvenience compared to the real health/quality of life consequences that build up in such a severe way over time. We deserve that little bit of leeway.

*disabled includes both physical and mental ailments on this post btw

[mentallyadinonugget]

all decided that james is desi but i NEED to know which state he’s from. I want to know which ipl team he loves and I want to know what’s his favourite dish. I want to know if he likes Holi or Diwali more. i want to know if he was ever pissed at Effie and fleamont during navratris because he couldn’t eat non veg. I want to know if he called his friends bkl or bc whenever they were arguing playfully. I want to know if he made fun of the marauders for not handling spice. I want to know which god/goddess is his favourite one. I want to know which bollywood film is his favourite and which is the first one he introduced to the marauders+ girls. I want to know if he distributed prasad to all his friends and teachers whenever Effie sent him some. I want to know if he made a small mandir in his dorm jaha par saare marauders maatha tekte the. I want to know which god he prayed to before a quidditch match. I want to know if he drank his ru afza with milk or water. I want to know if he skips the “all Indians are my brothers and sisters” part of the pledge if he finds an Indian person attractive. I want to know how good or bad he is with matras (punctuation) while writing hindi. I want to know if he breaks down in Hindi love songs out of nowhere. I want to know if he wrote letters to regulus in hindi because he didn’t want him to understand what he was saying. I want to know if he feeds Sirius the first bite of his birthday cake and then remus and then peter whenever he’s celebrating it in Hogwarts because Indian ppl feed the first piece of cake to their most beloved family member or friend. I want to know if he wore kurtas or sherwanis at functions. does he prefer parle g or good day biscuits. I WANT TO KNOW OKAY.

I WANT TO KNOW ABOUT ALL THE POSSIBILITIES THAT COME WITH JAMES POTTER BEING DESI.

[targaryenrealnessdarling]

It's Who We Have | Part Six

Summary: After dinner with Billy's parents, the bridge is difficult to rebuild | Word Count: 5.1k~ | Warnings: angst, family trauma, mentions of terrorism, heavy(ish) petting, billy going softie

General Taglist | Billy Washington Masterlist | Series Masterlist

Lana was a little, petite woman, and yet she slammed the door so hard, it could have come off its hinges. She even thought she saw the family portrait above the fireplace wobble. 

A steady, raw silence filled the air at the dinner table. Billy’s mum stared forwards at the centrepiece, with two M&S candles lit, and sighed softly, as if disappointed that she hadn’t expected such behaviour. She remembers Billy’s dad huffing as he got out his seat and wordlessly stepped through the creaky french doors, pulling a bag of tobacco out his pocket to roll himself a cigarette.

She also remembers the cracked leather of the seat cushion, how her feet didn’t touch the floor and the gnawing ache of hunger in her stomach. The passing thought that perhaps this was the only hot meal she was likely to have for a while, and it was in someone else’s house. 

Billy remained quiet beside her, scraping the tongs of his fork against his plate as he tried to stab at a pre-cut piece of sausage, seemingly quite used to keeping silent after the usual outburst from his older sister. 

“Come on, chick, you’re alright,” Billy’s mum smiled softly, the lines in her cheeks deepening as well as around her eyes, coaxing her to eat once again, after being rattled by the incessant shouting and blaring of Lana’s teenage rampage. 

In the eyes of Mrs Washington, there was care, tinged with sadness that such behaviour had made the little girl sitting opposite her curl back into her shell, mouth sealed shut as if on instinct. And so, she chose to trust this mother’s nature, and ate slowly, grateful at least for the company of Billy beside her, non-judgemental and kind-hearted. 

He and his mum were always alike in that way.

"Mummy, can we play upstairs after—" Billy began, interrupted by the ringing of the home phone. His mum rose from her seat, excusing herself to answer it.

"Just a second, love," she said, her voice warm and comforting. “Hello.”

Even her voice down the phone had that warm embracing tone of motherhood.

But all she heard on the other end was shouting she actually recognised. Her own mum, clearly in whatever addled state, her loud screaming crackling against Mrs Washington’s ear. 

“Yes, she’s here- can she not finish her dinner first -” Val murmured, her back turned to both children sat at the table still, as if to shield them from the onslaught of verbal abuse, “-I understand she’s your daught- yes - yes, I’ll bring her home after she’s had her tea-”

The way the phone was placed back on the charging dock made her stomach flip with nerves. Combined with the solemn expression on Billy’s mum’s face, she heard the words before they were even spoken.

“That was your mum, darling,” she said quietly, carefully, her eyebrows arched in worry, “take your time having your tea, alright.”

And she did. She always would. 

“Hiya sweetheart!” Val's voice was wobbly as she greeted her at the front door, giving her a bruising hug that pressed right against her ribs, “you're early.”

She nodded with a tight lipped smile, “thought I'd come and help with dishing up.”

“Oh, don't be silly, duck. You're our guest!”

Armed with her first cup of tea in the Washington household, it didn't take Val long to be completely overwhelmed with everything she had going on, and resorted to accepting her help anyway.

Clearly, Billy's mum had been excited for this. A notion that warmed her heart. Val had gone all out, roasted parsnips, Yorkshire puddings, roasted veg, roast and mash potato, sausages and a cut of beef. Enough to easily feed six. And she found herself biting back a smile wondering if Val had realised just how much food she'd done.

Like most mothers, this was her love language. Making sure everyone was fed.

She felt a lightness that hadn't been there for quite some time. Billy hadn't arrived yet, and she knew that the second he did, the mood would flatten, become suffocating. Like a hug that is too tight.

His arrival was made worse by the fact that he was late, and his dad didn’t miss a beat in telling him off, both of his parents already on his back in different ways the second he walked across the threshold. Shoulders slumped in depression, dragging his body around on long limbs like he was walking through honey.

Jeff had no hope of noticing the rift between them, but Val certainly did when Billy and her locked eyes across the hallway, for a moment not knowing what to say. And it likely would have stayed that way, until Billy eventually cleared his throat and let his mum take his coat, nodding.

“Alright?”

She herself had to force her voice out, “Yeah, thanks. You?”

Conversation didn't improve further than that at the dinner table, though the warm, familiar smell of roast potatoes and meat flavoured with herbs filled the intimate space, she found herself restless, sat beside Billy, with Mr and Mrs Washington opposite them.

Thank god for Val. For if she didn't try, the entire evening would be dead silent and just the sound of clinking cutlery would be enough to drive someone mad.

“How is your new flat, chick?” She asked sweetly, eyes wide and genuinely caring, “settling in alright?”

“Yes thanks, it needs the little niceties but it's a good roof over my head.”

Val nodded approvingly. "Good to hear.”

“Yeah it's about time you got your own place,” Jeff gruffed, not even looking at her to see the sinking look on her face, nor the one of his disgruntled wife.

Billy felt the awkwardness. The skirting around what his dad really meant. And he sat, picking at a stick of roasted carrot, when his dad asked the fated question, “any luck on the job front?”

She could feel herself wince. And even saw Billy tense up in her peripheral vision.

Billy sighed, pushing his chair out, “gonna go for a smoke.”

“But you're not finished with din-”

“I'll be right back, Mum,” despite his mother's protest, he slipped out the French doors, searching his pockets for a cigarette. 

She watched him for a moment as Val elbowed her husband, “do you have to fucking start?”

“What? I was just asking!”

She felt the smile threaten, stabbing a honey-roasted parsnip as she listened to them bicker. But also a dull ache in her chest at Billy's retreat back into himself, she couldn't help but feel a pang of sympathy for him. It wasn't just the rejection from his friends; it was the sense of being ganged up on by his own parents, compounded by Lana's absence.

“How is it, love?” Val asked.

“Lovely, Mrs Washington,” she smiled kindly in return, “parsnips never disappoint.”

She'd never tire of the way Billy's mum smiled. “Well, take your time.”

She could've laughed. Some things never change.

The rest of the evening was uneventful. Jeff retired to the living room, half asleep with a belly full of Sunday dinner and god-knows-what episode of Faulty Towers on the tele. And when it was time to leave, Billy gave an ingenuine, tight-lipped smile as his mum handed him his coat, “did you drive?” she asked.

“Nah, walked. Got a mate fixing up my car.”

It was near-comical, the way Billy’s head snapped up at the sound of her voice, as if startled she’d been there listening, “do you need a lift?” she asked, pulling her bag over her shoulder, car keys bundled in one hand.

Billy’s eyes lowered slightly and then rose again to her face, not replying immediately, which made her heart race fast in her chest.

“It’s on the way so…” she hated the desperation in her voice, and tried hard to will the tone of it away. But Billy looked forward to her, a slow, gentle recognition and a reluctance in his expression, shocked she’d even offered.

“Yeah, alright.”

After a slew of friendly ‘thank yous’ and goodbye hugs, she let out a shaky breath as soon as she sat in the driver’s seat, fingers curled around the leather steering wheel as if to keep them from shaking as Billy slid into the passenger seat, spreading his long legs into the footwell once he’d adjusted his seat all the way back.

Neither said a single word for what felt like a lifetime.

As she halted at a red traffic light, the harsh glow accentuated the lines of tension etched on her face, mirroring the fading twilight. Billy broke the silence, his voice barely a whisper against the hum of the blowers set on the lowest setting.

“Thanks for the lift.” 

One arm rested on the window frame, their eyes locked for a split second before the light shifted to green, “anytime.”

The silence that followed deepened the pit in her chest, making her feel antsy and nervous in equal measure. Billy wasn't faring much better, twirling his thumbs in his lap, and bouncing his left leg just to have something to do.

Pulling into the vacant spot behind Billy's battered Vauxhall, she felt a surge of apprehension mingle with the hollow pit in her chest. The engine's persistent hum seemed to mock their inability to bridge the growing chasm between them. 

And he didn't move to get out the car.

Billy sighed, his fingers rubbing his temple, “How do we do this then.”

“Do what?” she countered, her voice betraying a trace of defensiveness

He gestured between them, frustration simmering beneath the surface, “This. Us,” he answered simply, his throat bobbing as if stressed.

“I don’t think that’s really a question you should be asking me, is it?” 

Billy shook his head, a mirthless laugh escaping his lips. "I just don't want this anymore," he confessed, his voice raw with emotion.

Her heart clenched at his admission, the reality of their crumbling bond hitting her with devastating force. "Neither do I, Billy," she whispered, her voice barely audible above the din of their shared silence.

“Can we just talk,” he asked, a shaking tone invading his voice, “please?”

For a fleeting moment, she gazed out at the street through the windscreen, her eyes scanning the darkening sky. It felt as though a weighty conversation had perpetually lingered between them, and now, in this moment, it seemed inevitable.

With a simple, wordless gesture, she twisted the key in the ignition, silencing the engine's persistent hum. The abrupt cessation of sound plunged them back into the suffocating void of silence, where unspoken words hung heavy in the air like an oppressive fog.

Billy sat in the heavy silence, grappling with the weight of unspoken words. He knew he needed to apologise, to bridge the chasm that had grown between them, but the fear of looking foolish held him back.

Taking a deep breath, he shifted in his seat, his fingers drumming nervously against his thigh. He searched for the right words, ones that would convey his remorse without undermining his pride.

"I just... I want to make things right."

She was quiet, her eyes looking down at the gearstick, without the strength to look at him directly. 

She shook her head, “why Billy?” she asked, “do you know how fucking heartbroken Abi was when he heard what you’d done?”

It was a mistake to glance over at him, the way her heart squeezed when she saw his head was lowered in shame, a whirlwind of emotions going off inside Billy’s head. Like he wasn’t sure what he should think for himself. 

Billy's heart sank as her words pierced through him like daggers. He couldn't bring himself to meet her gaze, his shame weighing heavily upon him. Each syllable she uttered felt like a blow to his already battered conscience.

"I... I didn't mean to," he stammered, his voice tinged with remorse. "I was drunk, I wasn't thinking straight..."

His voice trailed off as he struggled to find the right words to convey the depth of his regret. He knew he had hurt not just Abi, but their entire community, with his reckless actions.

Frustration bubbled in her chest as she shook her head, “being drunk isn’t an excuse. Last time I saw you, you were all ‘these people are stealing our jobs and ruining this country’ etc etc. What’s happened to that?” she countered, trying to control the steadily rising anger in her voice, “who are these people you’ve got yourself involved in? Because I know…I know this isn’t you, Billy.”

His throat constricted as her words struck him with the force of a sledgehammer. Shame burned hot in his chest, mingling with the simmering anger directed inward. He knew he had no excuse for his actions, but facing her condemnation made it all the more unbearable.

"I know," he whispered, his voice barely audible above the rush of blood in his ears. “I don't know what to believe anymore.”

For a split second, she felt the crush of his admission choke her with its oppressive weight, her throat closing up with emotion. The dread of being so utterly lonely radiating off him like a miasma. A barrage of emotions, memories, feelings threatened to overwhelm her at that very moment. 

“I've not been completely innocent in this either,” she choked out, though it was difficult to say. And she knew he was looking at her, so she stared at something, anything else, to avoid the horrible feeling she was being pitied.

“I'll say it how it is, because nobody else wants to. My mum is shit, has always been, my dad is god knows where, I was impossible at school and I moved far away to uni to get away from that horrible sick feeling that everyone had seen those fucking pictures of me.”

The words tasted like venom, even to herself, at the heartbreaking predicament that was her life. She shook her head, wetting her lips nervously, “turns out running away didn't fix a single thing.”

Billy sighs, “I feel shit that I wasn't there for you.”

“We were barely adults, Billy. That's not on you.”

“Even so,” he argued, “If I had pulled my head out the ground for one second I would have seen,” he says, “you deserved better.”

She chanced it then, and glanced over at him, swallowing thickly with something weighing heavily on her shoulders. A smile tried to find its way to her face at the expression she was giving him, so, so similar to how he looked as a boy and a teenager, but with the roughened and sharp edges that defined him into adulthood.

“You know I’ve always been jealous of you.”

Billy’s eyes were tinged with confusion when she said that, the blue of his eyes barely noticeable in the low amber glow of the streetlights outside the car.

She tried to swallow whatever bubbled up, “I remember the first time I ever felt it…that first day of school.”

His lips parted, and eyebrows drew together as he looked into his lap, “please don’t-”

“No, let me speak,” she insisted, her voice tinged with pain, face clouding up with barely-contained grief, “I just-I saw you with your mum and couldn’t help it. You were so happy. So loved.”

Silence fell between them, her words strained by her strength to hold back tears hitting him to his very core. Billy remembers so clearly, he’d be embarrassed to admit. Leading her into the girls toilets and using blue tissues to wipe off the mud. Her face wet with tears. He very nearly smiled at the memory of it, and what bond was formed from that day on.

“You were the only one who ever really saw me,” she admitted, “and it made me feel that to someone I existed…and that I mattered.”

It felt painful, this bridge between them, aching to be rebuilt.

“Now it feels like I’m losing you…” she whispered, “...when I had hoped I’d given you that feeling back somewhere along the way.”

The weight of her words hung heavy in the air, a stark reminder of the rift that had grown between them. Billy felt the ache of regret settle deep in his chest, knowing that he had failed her in more ways than he could count.

But she kept going, the words spilling out of her like she had kept them locked up for too long, and they were yearning to escape. 

“So if these…right-wing, George Cross-waving twats make you feel like you matter then I have massively fucked up somewhere..”, the words nearly made a smile rise to his face, but the seriousness of the conversation made him simply just glance up at her, “..and for that I’m sorry.”

Her words cut through the tension like a knife, raw with emotion and self-recrimination. Billy's heart clenched at the pain in her voice, the weight of her apology hanging heavy in the air. 

He reached out tentatively, his hand hovering in the space between them. "I'm sorry too," he whispered, his voice barely above a whisper. "For everything."

She wet her lips, drawing in a needed breath to fuel the tears that were now rolling down her face, her throat feeling raw when she slid her hand into his, fingers interwoven, the foundations of that bridge feeling all the more heavy, but manageable. And for a long moment, neither said a word, but it felt easier to bask in it, knowing that it was slowly piecing together the broken bonds that had once scattered about their lives.

“Promise me,” she utters weakly, “promise me you’ll stop this, whatever you’re doing with them. Apologise to Abi, Ami, everyone…I know you’re hurting but you’re better than this.”

Her honesty was appreciated but stung all the same.

"Promise," he murmured, his voice thick with emotion.

Her eyes searched his, hope mingling with uncertainty. Slowly, a tentative smile tugged at the corners of her lips, a glimmer of relief illuminating her tear-streaked face.

"Thank you," she whispered, her voice barely above a whisper. "Thank you for trying."

She felt something warm shimmer pleasantly in her chest when Billy’s thumb stroked against the back of her hand, along her knuckles.

“Sorry,” attempting to lighten the mood with a weak laugh, she wiped one cheek, trying to smear the tears away to make way for relief. 

Billy smiles boyishly, and there’s something light and nostalgic about it, “nothing changes,” he starts, a hint of playfulness in his voice, “you still look ugly when you cry.”

She laughs despite her tears, brushing them away gently as she responds, a softness creeping into her tone as their old connection flickers back to life. “Fuck off.”

It felt nice, laughing again, with the lingering hope that Billy desired real change.

“‘m only joking,” he murmured, leaning over the centre console, his other hand reaching out to brush her hair out her face in a motion that made her heart clench and warmth pool in her stomach, “you look beautiful.”

As soon as the words left his lips, the atmosphere in the cramped space shifted, charged with an undeniable tension. Their proximity felt electrifying, every inch of space between them tingling with unspoken desire. How many years had led to this moment they were sharing now, quiet and dark, their eyes alone communicating the depth of this impulse to inch closer?

Their eyes met, a silent understanding passing between them, as if words were no longer necessary in this charged atmosphere. But the tension demanded some kind of release, some acknowledgment of the emotions swirling between them.

Billy's gaze softened, his hand lingering on her cheek. "I've missed this," he confessed, voice tinged with vulnerability. "Being with you like this.”

When she wet her lips anxiously, she swore she saw his eyes flit to them briefly, her reply taking longer than usual to form, "It feels like coming home," she agreed, her voice barely a whisper.

In that moment, the weight of their shared history and the promise of a future filled with possibility hung in the air between them like a tangible force, crackling with tension. Each heartbeat echoed in the silence, a drumbeat urging them forward into the unknown.

It reminded her of that night at Cranstead Fields. She can still hear the clinking of glasses, Libby’s high-pitched drunken confessions to Abi, sat on his lap, Paddy and Harry wrestling on the grass, white shirts smudged with green as they argued about who should go and fetch the football while Ami pulled at their shirts to separate them.

But what she remembers most about that night, was the taste of WKD on Billy’s lips, the warmth that bloomed in her stomach and flipped with nerves and the flush that rose to her face when Billy had turned his face, to press his lips flush to hers and parted them with the swipe of his tongue.

And that is what she felt now, bar the taste of cheap vodka, as once again, however many years later, it was sealed with a sweet but urgent kiss.

She felt his thumbs on her cheeks, fingers threaded through her hair to pull her close to him, and just like she had that night, her hand found its way to his chest, to feel his heart thrumming beneath his skin, the material of his shirt caught in her palm. And Billy felt her eyelashes against his cheek, it was a delicate dance, a balance between desire and restraint, as they navigated the uncharted territory.

But as their lips lingered, a silent understanding passed between them, a silent agreement that this was just the beginning of their journey back to each other.

When they parted, pulling air between their now disconnected lips, all they could do was look at each other, the waves of realisation that the lines between friendship and whatever this was were rapidly blurring was heart-clenching.

“Sorry-”

She shook her head lightly, “No…it's alright, really.”

They both knew that they had just crossed a line, blurring the boundaries of their friendship in a way that couldn't be undone. But despite the awkwardness, there was also a sense of relief in finally acknowledging the feelings that had been simmering beneath the surface for so long.

"We should... probably talk about this," she suggested, her voice barely above a whisper.

"Yeah, we should," Billy agreed, his expression a mixture of uncertainty and longing.

And as they sat in silence, grappling with the newfound complexity of their relationship, they both knew that their friendship would never be the same again. But whether that was a good thing or a bad thing remained to be seen.

He cleared his throat, the sound breaking the heavy silence that hung between them like a tangible barrier. “Do you wanna come in? For a cuppa?”

She felt her heart race at the invitation, her mind racing with conflicting emotions. This was familiar territory, yet everything felt different now, charged with an electric tension that crackled in the air between them.

The offer of a cup of tea seemed mundane, almost laughable given the charged atmosphere that enveloped them. But neither of them made a move to acknowledge the unspoken truth lingering beneath the surface.

"Um, yeah, sure," she managed to reply, her voice barely above a whisper. Her tongue suddenly feeling too big for her own mouth as she undid her seatbelt and followed awkwardly behind him as he unlocked the street-level door and lingered behind once they ascended the stairs to his flat.

His flat had changed little from the last time she'd seen it, albeit the clothes were put away. The kettle remained untouched, forgotten amidst the unspoken desires that pulsed between them like a current.

Every breath felt like a struggle, the air charged with a palpable longing that neither of them dared to voice. But for now, they remained frozen in place, suspended in a silent dance of desire and hesitation. She felt so small, standing in his lounge, that when she glanced up and saw Billy leaning against the doorframe, near-filling any void space of it, hands tucked in his pockets.

He took a deep breath, steeling himself for what was to come. "I don't want to ignore what just happened between us. It's... it's different now, isn't it?"

She nodded slowly, her gaze fixed on the floor as she struggled to find the right words. "Yeah, it is. I mean, we've been friends for so long, but..." Her voice trailed off, the weight of their unspoken desires hanging heavy in the air.

"But things have changed," he finished for her, his voice barely above a whisper.

They both knew that there was no going back to the way things were before. Their friendship had evolved into something deeper, something more complex and fragile than either of them had ever anticipated. She felt her heart flutter sickly in her chest, the same way it had the last time they had kissed all those years ago.

"I don't want to ruin what we have," she said softly, her voice tinged with fear.

"Me neither," he agreed.

There was a long pause as they both grappled with the magnitude of what they were feeling. They had crossed a line that could never be uncrossed, and now they had to figure out how to navigate this new terrain together.

"But I can't ignore the way I feel," he admitted, his voice trembling with emotion.

Her heart skipped a beat at his confession, her own feelings laid bare in the raw vulnerability of the moment. 

And as they stood there in the quiet of his living room, their eyes locked in a silent understanding. The tension growing thick the longer they remained this way, and her heart lurching into his chest when Billy pushed off the doorframe and crossed the room to her in a few strides alone. So close, she could smell his fabric softener.

“I'm sorry I just can't,” he added swiftly, closing the space as she parted her lips to reply.

And just let go.

His fingers curled around her waist tightly, lips clumsily crashing together with desperation, years and years of denial, of longing, of sheer stubbornness, pouring out of each of them in crashing waves.

For a moment, she felt as if she didn't know whether she should touch him, hold onto him by his shoulders, and very much felt like he knew what he'd wanted to do much, much sooner than she had.

But the moment he pulled their hips flush, chests brushing, and her fingers slid up the nape of his neck to grasp the hair that touched his neck, it had felt right. The short, unshaven hair at his jaw scratched perfectly against her fingertips, and tickled her face the more he moved to capture her lips again.

His touch ignited a fire within her, sending shivers down her spine as she surrendered herself to the intoxicating whirlwind of desire. With every brush of his lips, she felt herself unravelling, melting into him with an urgency that bordered on desperation.

In that moment, there were no words, no thoughts, only the raw, primal need that consumed them both. And as they finally succumbed to the passion that had been simmering beneath the surface for far too long, they knew that there was no turning back.

Her heart twisted in excitement as his hands made their way north, sliding up her sides beneath her shirt, thumbs drifting over her ribs to touch her in places she had secretly hoped he always would. 

And she couldn't help the cringeworthy slip of his name as he grunted breathily into her mouth, his palms moulding her breasts through the frustrating layer of her bra, but pleased at the way her body reacted to it.

“Billy -” 

How many years had he wanted to hear that?

She allowed herself the briefest touch of his skin, her fingers against his flesh made him tremble, and she saw the rush of feelings rise to his cheeks as he swallowed whatever he was thinking by pressing his lips fervently to hers instead.

The mere thought of being pressed close to her like this would usually have his body responding in tandem. But now, as his own hand paused at the waistband of her jeans, barely dipping beneath her underwear, he sighed to himself, embarrassed somewhat, and sorely regretted downing three cans of beer in two hours earlier in the evening when his body didn't reciprocate how his mind felt about her.

His forehead rested against the crook of her neck, hot breath batting against her collarbone. The pull of wanting to touch her like this, to just do it and make her feel every bit the way she deserved, was all-consuming.

But after a few empty seconds, he peeled his fingers away from the waistband of her jeans.

“Fuck- sorry…” he managed, out of breath, apologising for what felt like the millionth time that night, “can't…I've had too much to drink-”

“It's okay,” she smiled, the heat on her face feeling tight against the rise of her lips. She gave him a reassuring smile as she righted her clothes, still feeling the burning mark of his hands where they'd touched her bare skin. And as ashamed as she was to say it, the warm pooling of desire tugging at her belly.

“It's late, I should-” 

“Yeah, yeah…” he murmured, rubbing the back of his neck.

She deflated once she saw the alerts pop up on her screen, “fuck- road’s closed. Gonna take me ages to drive home.”

While she scrolled, agitation growing at the idea of being stuck in her car for another hour, Billy eventually spoke, “stay here for the night,” he said, it came out more of a desperate plea than an offer at first.

He quickly shook his head of a trance when he saw her face, “U-uh, I mean, no funny business, you have the bed, I can have the sofa-”

“I couldn't ask that of you, Billy.”

“Well, you're not asking, I'm - offering,” he smiled boyishly, in a way that made it difficult to refuse.

She sighed through her nose, “I've got to go into Central London tomorrow.”

“Well…” he sighed, rubbing his palms nervously against his thighs, “I was supposed to meet the lads at Farringdon Tube Station tomorrow, I'll take you down - get you into London and…I'll break things off with them. For Good.”

Swallowing nervously, she met his gaze, her eyes pleading for reassurance. "Promise," he urged, his baby blue eyes wide with sincerity, pleading with her to believe him.

She hesitated, uncertainty clouding her features as she searched his face for any hint of doubt. She clicked off her phone and nodded, with a hopeful smile, “Okay.”

General Taglist: @aemondsfavouritebastard @bellstwd @blairfox04 @buckybarnesb-tch @castellomargot @hb8301 @jamespotterismydaddy @mochi-rose @natty2017 @nenelysian @randomdragonfires-deactivated20 @risefallrise @thelittleswanao3 @theoneeyedprince @thetrueblackheart @tsujifreya @urmomsgirlfriend1 @valeskafics @valleyof-goldenlilies

[telomeke]

10 (or So) BL Boys I Want Carnally (Plus a Couple of Girls Too)

I was tagged by @neuroticbookworm at this post here and @waitmyturtles at this post here. Thank you dearies! 🥰

Now here's the thing before I get on with the post: after a certain time I think sexual attraction is a phenomenon more intellectual than physical.

So the beautiful people I'm listing below are ones whom I think fit the list in my head as examples of those genetically blessed with sexual desirability. But it's not as though I'm really feeling a carnal stirring in the loins for them. No fantasied jumping of bones (or boners) here; I would probably run a mile in the opposite direction if any of them actually presented themselves naked and available to me, you get my drift?

Still, since the malls are open I do like to look (even if it's only window shopping through binoculars 🤣). So, in no particular order, with tongue firmly in cheek and more admiration in my head (for the obvious hard work at the gym) than lust in my heart (or anywhere else) – here goes: 😍

‌

1. Nonkul Chanon

I know Nong Non looked like a little ball of Koreanesque sunshine in I Feel You Linger in the Air (really channeling 2PM's Wooyoung for me), but Mistah Santinatornkul used to be beefier and apparently lost weight to look all sweet and wispy for the role of Jom in IFYLITA.

Dunno bout you, but I miss the beef. (And if you do too, I urge you to click on the YouTube link above. 😁) Also, Nonkul had four lead roles in 2023; I think his star is on the ascendant, so keep an eye out for this one (he seems to have an international presence that most other Thai stars don't, though it beams eastwards). 🤩

‌‌

2. Ohm Pawat

I prefer him hunkier and chunkier like he was during his Bad Buddy Pat Napat days (he's too shredded and gangly beanstalk now for me) but I've actually met Ohm in real life and (I've said this before) his smile is supernova dazzling. Like everything else in the room simply fades to a blank whiteness. (Or maybe it was just me feeling faint. 🤣) Supremely photogenic (I don't think he has any bad angles), this boy definitely has the X factor and after Bad Buddy I will always be a diehard fan.

‌

3. MaxTul

The original kings of BL who never shied away and just went for it when it counted. I rue the loss of Tul to business or real estate or whatever it is he's focusing on now, but this coupling will always be legendary so I'm putting them together as one on my list.

‌

4. Gap Jakarin

You may be noticing a trend here, but I do like a bit of meat with my two veg. 😜🍆🥩🥬🍴🤣 Anyway I'm all goo-goo eyed at lovable himbo Yai in The Sign, especially when we see how smitten he is with his beautiful girlfriend Sand (who's canon transgender in the show, as Yoshi Rinrada is in real life too 💖). And that's carried over to my appreciation of Gap Jakarin in all his meaty meathead glory offscreen as well.

Plus when he was in the bulking phase (or maybe it was for a role?) Gap was also carrying a fair bit of baby fat in the following photo on his Instagram, and somehow that just makes him even more teddybeardorable in my eyes: 🧸😍

‌

5. Neo Trai

Always the boy you remember in roles you'd rather forget. I've liked his look (neck up) for a long time now; in his current gym bunny phase the rest of Neo is looking more buff by the day and I approve, aesthetically speaking. More to love. 😘

‌

6. Force Jiratchapong

Nice to look at. Only just about makes up for his roles and acting though. I'm not hurrying to watch anything he's in, unless it's for a photoshoot like the one in the YouTube video above. 😮

7. Pavel Naret

It appears he's had a little surgical tweaking recently, but the doctors did a fine job and Pavel is always looking like he's some sort of walking sex buffet, dishing out sass and overflowing sex appeal at every turn. Still not enough to make me wanna watch Pit Babe though. 🤣

8. KaowOat Supasin

Apologies for the fuzziness of this screencap but I can almost feel non-existent ovaries swelling within me when I look at KaowOat's pensive buttcrack and delicately-placed fingers here. Almost makes me want to watch Playboyy The Series. Almost.

‌

9. Net Siraphop

I'm also on board with everybody's carnal favorite Net, even though I've not watched a single thing he's been in (Uea's kitty ears in Bed Friend did a good job warding me off, like garlic and crucifixes to a vampire so well done James Van Helsing). Nonetheless all the screenshots and GIFs were more than enough to leave me a little breathless at Net's honey-toned beauty. Those eyes telling of mysterious depths! That handsome jawline! That teasing glimpse of buttcheek with no tanline! When upon a time will we finally get Love Upon a Time? I'll be watching, if James can keep his furry ears out of frame.‌

‌‌‌

10. Kao Noppakao

Oh he of the excellent cheekbones and Cupid's Bow lips! Always looking so icy and unavailable, yet Kao utterly charmed his way into my heart in Lovely Writer (and then shattered it within the first few minutes of Until We Meet Again). Like Ohm he literally cannot take a bad photo; it's all Blue Steel and high fashion with this one.

BONUS 1 (because I am no respecter of limits):

Great Sapol is on here because he filled out his tight policeman's uniform so well in Manner of Death (and has me vibrating with pins and needles waiting for Wandee Goodday). And Taylor Zakhar Perez just because he was such a menace in Red, White & Royal Blue (that full frontal above is from Minx though). 😜 Plus TZP's name always gives me the giggles because zakar in a number of countries quite literally means what that eggplant is hiding. 🤣

‌

BONUS 2 (because these girls have made me feel something):

Zorzo Nathanan (formerly Zorzo Natharuetai)

Ever since she roared up and flicked those lovely long locks (and legs) on her motorcycle in Lovely Writer, I've been going weak at the knees for the ravishing confection that is Zorzo. Supposedly queer in real life too; just adds to the appeal. 🤩

‌

Namtan Tipnaree

Absolutely radiant and glowing in Last Twilight even though makeup and wardrobe have Namtan totally frumped out for the character of Porjai. If you can look this good with perpetual bedhead and a shapeless gray t-shirt, there's some kind of sexual sorcery going on and there's a part of me that wants whatever it is she's got. 💖

‌

I always tag too many people so I'm going to buck my brand and tag just one: @non-binarypal7. But consider yourself tagged if you've read this far and would like to play too – I just love reading other people's takes in tag games! 😍

‌

[batcavescolony]

Since in #7 Bernard Dowd is seen to want to be a Chef and I've had culinary arts schooling this is my list of oddly specific things pertaining to that. Use it as you want (just from my experience)

Having a callous on the base of your pointer fringer of your dominate hand from using a chef knife

Funky patterned chef pants

DISHES NEVER END

when you are moving with a hot pan or heavy items ect you tell everyone like HOT PAN! BEHIND. GOING AROUND THE CORNER. BEHIND!

small batches are cute but in a restaurant/bakery/etc you're doing big batches in industrial ovens and mixers. A batch of bread dough we made had 12lbs of flour and like a half gallon of water.

Culinary arts isn't just making food it's doing math, converting recipes, going over OSHA rules and restaurant regulations

After awhile you have enough knowledge to the point where you see a recipe on the internet and go "hey... I can make that. Like really easily" like you can just make curry or scallion pancakes or fancy food

You will notice the shitty knife cuts in like pre cut packages of fruit and veg at the store

You're not allowed to have nail polish or false nails (unless you want to wear gloves all the time)

You start to realise how easy it's is to do somethings for yourself. Like you can just buy a chicken and break it down yourself or make stock at home

Their will be at least one class day where you cut onions all day and leave in tears because everyone is literally cutting onions

Sometimes stuff gets pushed back in the fridge or it's after break and the food has grew a putrid smelling mold. Cleaning it is part of culinary, it's...Fun

Everyday you wear chef pants, a chef coat, a closed toe non slip shoe and a chef hat.

Your hands will get chapped af because you're washing them all the time, lotion is your friend

You do refer to your head chef as 'Chef' or 'Chef ____' (or at least we did)

You will fuck up except it and move past it. (I once put too many chips in the fryer, it over flowed and we had to clean it up)

Kitchens get hot and you're wearing pants and a coat that are designed to protect you from like boiling water being pored on them, so drink water.

You will get cut/burned/stabbed/squished fingers it's part of the job just don't get bodily fluids on the food

You're standing like the whole time no matter what

You know that gallon conversation thing you learned in elementary? You will see that in your sleep. Gallon to quart to pint to cup. Also 8oz to a cup. 3t to a T. 16oz to a Pound ect it's ingrained into my head now

With a bit of knowledge you now know things and you can use it. Like add Xanthan Gum to a blended drink to emulsify it and it's just like Starbucks.

On the down side people want you to make things

You start wanting things for your kitchen like a KitchenAid or a portion scoop or dehydrator and having that feeds back into "I can make anything"

Figuring out exact prices for things is crucial and a pain. Like you have to take the price of baking soda and figure out how much a 1/4t costs. It's not horrible ig but when you're doing it for a whole recipe or menu it gets repetitive.

Ok that's all I'm putting you get the idea

[desiblr-tales]

hello there people of desiblr, as y'all know south east asia is famous for it's vast cuisine and flavours. the british invaded us for spices after all. our food is known for being tasty and versatile so we thought what better than to put food against food because it has been long since we all had a food discourse like good old times. we are conducting a food discourse but not the kind which divides food according to state borders.

for this discourse, we are giving you categories of different kinds. you can send asks to submit your food for your chosen category.

after placing them in different categories we would conduct a poll to see which food would win.

there would be winners for different categories. you can also send an ask for making another category and we would add that category if we find it necessary.

categories are under the read more mark.

categories

sweets

snacks

cursed food combos

street food

drinks

different names for the same food

mixed foods (dishes that came from different places but now are eaten in India heavily)

favorite sabzi (only vegetables)

everything non veg

types of maggi (send in ur recipes)

disclaimer : we don't want to spread hate or make fun of someone's food. please treat this as a harmless food discourse and nothing more. also don't bring religion or state into this and dont put down another's food preference or you'll be blocked. harmless fun and teasing is always appreciated

[dalcheenivn]

The Best Indian food In ho Chi Minh | Best Authentic Indian Cuisine.

One of the best Indian food in ho chi minh. The foods are wow delicious with Indian tastes.

The minus there is I waited too long to have lunch Dalcheeni is a Fine Dining Indian restaurant serving Royal Indian Cuisine in Ho Chi Minh, Vietnam. We bring to you the best and the most royal of Indian.