#and i was like 'ok but i do need some fresh veg'

[solemntitty]

i'm having an 'it's a banana michael' moment

[mykneeshurt]

hi!! happy new year!! 💗

I love ur writing, and I was thinking to drop this request;

so may request some hc’s of cod task force 141 (+ alejandro, könig, graves and rudy) :))

feel free to skip this if youre busy, just wondering, happy new year :)

Sorry this one took me some time, I got too in my head about it. It was so hard to not be bitchy to Graves lmfao, Soap is my favourite enjoy! SFW. Let me know if you want NSFW ones

Price 🥃

He supports Liverpool FC, no I won’t hear any different

His favourite non-alcoholic drink is ‘builders tea’

Glenfiddich 18 is his Whisky of choice

Favourite colour is khaki green

Is the father figure of the group, strong, reliable, approachable (everything my dad wasn’t lmfao, I still love him)

He wears a plain t-shirt pyjamas to bed, sleeps on his side, one arm under his head, absolutely snores

His favourite breed of dog is a Collie, or any working dog he can walk for miles for in the country side

He absolutely loves Bargain Hunt on TV

His favourite smell is fresh gingerbread

He’d make an excellent grandfather tbh

Soap 🧼

Despite being Scottish he supports Blackburn FC, an underdog (I refuse to comment on the Celtic vs Rangers, far too much history there. And I’m Welsh, it ent for me to say haah)

He absolutely loves winding the boys up about being English

His text tone is SCOTLAND FOREVVAAAA *aggressive bagpipes*

Soap 100% sleeps in the buff

His favourite dog would be a Labrador, nice active family friendly dog

He’s a chatterbox but a good listener when he needs to be, will often give some surprisingly good advice

He’s an iPhone wanker

Absolutely a mummy’s boy, would do anything for her - he’d love to pay off her mortgage for her

His favourite smell is the cheesy paws of his dog for real

He’s not a morning person, he loves a lie in when he can

Ghost 💀

Ghost supports Manchester City, he just gives me those vibes ok?

His favourite weather is rain/storms

When he’s home from a mission he’s a bath guy, he showers all the time on base, so when he’s home it’s hot ass bath with an audio book and his bourbon

He has two cats that his neighbour looks after when he’s away, two British blue shorthairs. Called Foxtrot and Whiskey

He also loves rabbits

He loves helping beginners at the gym

His favourite tv show is The Simpsons, something easy and colourful to watch to distract him from what he’s seen

He smells like Dior Suvage (anything musky and heavy)

He’s ambidextrous

He loves a cooked dinner, beef, roast potatoes, all the veg, stuffing and all the Yorkshire puddings

He’s got his tongue pierced, I’ve seen the fan art. You can’t tell me other wise.

Gaz 🇬🇧

He gives me Arsenal vibes, so he supports them

But also supports Chicago Bears in American Football

He’s gentle, reserved so he’d have a rat as a pet, highly intelligent

Fish and chips with curry sauce is his favourite meal, a proper British geeza

He smells fresh, think a bright spring day, fresh linen and cut grass

He loves the sunshine

He’s a keen gardener, grows his own herbs and vegetables

His house is spotless, minimalist, but has a huge book collection

He loves caramel lattes despite the banter from the boys, he has a sweet tooth

Loves meeting the boys down the pub on a Sunday for a carvery

Alejandro 🌹

He’s an excellent cook, his favourite hobby when not on a mission is trying out new recipes for Los Vaqueros

This man sleeps in silk sheets, tell me he doesn’t?

He’s fiercely loyal his country, he loves Mexico and is passionate about it through and through

He’s got a great sense of humour, enjoys making people laugh

He runs marathons for charity in his spare time

His favourite subject in school was history

If you’re sad this man gives the best hugs, he’ll make you a strong ass coffee and give one hell of a pep talk

His favourite smell is fresh cocoa beans, always stealing the nibs to eat

Him and Rudy have film nights with their families when they’re home

He’s 100% a girl dad, teaches her how to shoot with nerf guns in the garden

Rudy ❤️

He has a German Vizsla called Pollito, because her legs look like chicken drumsticks

He 100% has an android phone

He’s an armature photographer in his spare time, he loves nature

He and Alejandro have personalised ringtones for each other

His favourite food is Seafood paella

He owns a small farm, sells the produce to the local area, he loves animals

He once won a poetry competition

His favourite colour is orange

Sorry but he wears lynx Africa (I like it sue me)

He likes to game in his spare time, anything from farm simulator to RPGs

König 👑

He loves drawing, anything creative, he’ll draw/paint the Austrian countryside to de-stress

He grew up on a small farm in the Austrian mountains, he has a very close family

He doesn’t like large crowds, worried people stare at him because of his height, feels claustrophobic sometimes

He bites his nails when his hands aren’t busy or covered by gloves

He’s a cat guy 100%

He’s left handed, 100% a lefty but holds his gun right handed (its a struggle, I’m left handed)

He’d like a family one day, he’s got a lot of love to give

He smells like leather, sandalwood and vanilla

He loves eating raw cookie dough, vanilla and chocolate chip

He holds the record for the hardest punch in his home town

Graves 🇺🇸

His favourite holiday is July 4th, he does a huge fireworks display whenever he’s home

His favourite food is Gumbo

He smells like Paco Rabane Invictus

He’s got 3 Dobermans, whom he loves with all his heart. Ben, Jacob and Molly

He has a white picket fence - obviously

He doesn’t have a good relationship with his father, daddy forced him into the army to gain approval

He sleeps in red plaid pyjamas and has matching slippers

He’s fluent in French, he learnt it to pick up girls

He loves hiking in his spare time, with his 3 dogs

He runs support groups for veterans on a Thursday a local library

[psalacanthea]

Vegetarian Pot Pie

hey whats up i made this for my friends and they said it was good, so I decided to write the recipe down while i still remember it (for once in my life), so I can make it again. I will share it with you.

This is rich, filling, delicious, but doesn't just taste like a sad chicken pot pie with no chicken. This is a proper vegetarian dish, and perfect for winter. Extremely cozy and nice. If u need something to make for Christmas but don't want to work all day, this is for you.

It does not have peas because I'm not a fucking MONSTER

...

Ingredients:

1 leek

1 sweet potato (I used white sweet potato, orange are too sugary for me)

1 large russet potato or 2 small-medium

1 large carrot or 2 small-medium

1 large parsnip

mushrooms of choice (i used pre-sliced baby bellas)

2 decent-sized cloves of garlic

sage

rosemary

thyme

parsley

cream (milk or a milk sub is ok too but it won't be as rich)

3 tbsp butter

3 tbsp ap flour

1 carton (or 2 cans) vegetable stock

white wine (i used chard but any other non-sweet white like a pinot grig would be ok. just no sweet whites, the root veggies are plenty sweet)

s&p

store-bought pie crusts (if you like suffering make it yourself!)

utensils:

1 pie pan

1 small pot

Strainer (you can use a slotted spoon to remove stuff if you don't have [or let it cool and use your fingers])

1 lg. saucepan

Knife

Spatula or Big Spoon

(steps below cut)

To begin you're going to want to enhance your vegetable stock-- store-bought veggie stock is boring and often too tomatoey, we want to mitigate that. Veggie broth doesn't have to taste dull!

Separate leek greens from whites. If your leek is pretty stumpy, you can use 2.

In a small pot at medium-high heat, sear the leek greens on both sides, and sautee 1-2 mushroom, sliced. Once the leek greens have been browned in spots, add 3/4ths cup white wine or so (you can eyeball it). Simmer until all the alcohol smell is gone from the wine (won't take long.)

If you feel inclined, you can also add any carrot/parsnip tops you might have trimmed off, to save waste. Keep in mind that these are both sweet vegetables, though, and that might change the flavor a little. Carrot greens tho would add a nice bit of freshness, and would be a fine sub for parsley.

Add vegetable stock, a sprig of thyme, rosemary, sage, and parsley (you can tie them together w/kitchen twine to make a bouquet garni, but if you're gonna strain the stock you don't need to)

You can also add bay leaf if you have like 3 containers of them in your spice cabinet for some reason and need an excuse to use them.

Turn the heat under the stock down to low, and simmer until it's reduced by about a third, maybe an hour (it can hang out while you do other stuff.)

Peel potatoes, cut into 1 to 1/2 inch chunks (small but not tiny). You should have about two cups. cube size is partially preference, but smaller chunks mean you can get all the flavor in every bite.

Do the same for the sweet potato, but reduce amount to a cup. You won't use the whole potato for this recipe, but they're SO good roasted wrapped in tinfoil and eaten plain with salt.

Scrub parsnip and carrot, cut into pieces that seem about the same as the potatoes, about a cup of each. (I don't peel my carrots don't @ me.)

Cut leek whites into half-circles.

If your mushrooms are not pre-cut, slice mushrooms until you have about a cup of them ready to go.

Please note, if you have extra veg cut-- just add it. Extra filling is no big deal you can just eat it by itself or add it to your plate of pie. No need to waste anything.

Squash and finely chop garlic cloves.

In a large saucepan on medium- medium high heat, add 3 tbsp butter and 3 tbsp flour, mix together as butter melts to form a cohesive mixture- a roux.

Cook until roux is starting to bubble. Add leeks, add carrots, mushrooms, and parsnips. Salt lightly to encourage moisture loss.

Sautee in the roux for 3-5 minutes or so until the veggies are starting to smell good and the roux is getting gold, then add garlic.

Cook for 30 seconds to a minute more, stirring constantly, until you can smell the garlic. Garlic burns easily!

Strain enhanced stock into saucepan.

Add potatoes and sweet potatoes.

Stir until the roux dissolves into the stock and it begins to thicken, and then turn down to low heat (you want small and regular bubbles, but not big glorpy ones).

It might not look like enough gravy, but we don't want a ton. It's a pie, not a stew. If you REALLY think it's not enough, your stock might have reduced too far. Add a bit of water if you must.

Remove leaves from 1 large sprig thyme, and add to filling. Remove leaves from and finely dice 1 sprig rosemary. Do the same for sage. Toss out the stems.

The gravy should still be thin-ish, but we're going to reduce it down more as the potatoes are cooked through.

Cook until potatoes are just barely fork-tender. Even slightly undercooked is ok. Taste gravy for salt and pepper. Add salt and pepper to taste.

Add 1/3rd cup heavy cream/milk or so. Stir in.

Strip the leaves from 1-2 sprigs of parsley, finely chop, stir into gravy.

Taste again. Season again if necessary.

Let the filling cool. Try not to eat it all.

Unroll 1 pre-made pie crust, and put in the bottom of your pie pan. Try to make it even all the way around.

Now! The easy way to seal a pie (without egg wash) is as follows.

Fold down the edge of the lower crust so that it sticks out past the top edge of the pie pan.

Add filling. Get that shit as full as you can while keep that sticking out edge of the pie crust dry.

Place top pie crust over the pie.

Fold the edge of the lower crust over the upper crust, rolling them up together to make the crust edge.

Either with a fork or with pinching, make the edge crust look prettier.

If the edges of both the lower crust and the upper crust have been rolled inside themselves, you shouldn't have filling leakage.

Cut venting holes on top in whatever quirky design you want.

Stick in a 350f (177c?) oven until it's done.

I don't know how long, I don't measure those things. The crust will be golden brown and the filling will be bubbly.

the wine is skippable, yes, but it adds some acidity that you need. try a squeeze of lemon into your gravy if you don't use it.

[borbersk]

Ok. I know you motherfuckers are going to have some options here, so I decided to share with you one of my favourite recipes: shit noodles (also known as scrap noodles, white noodles, or chow mein)

One thing that's important to note is that I generally try to use as few utensils for this as possible, so if you like the idea then all you're allowed to use is a pot, a pan, a pot lid to drain, and some chopsticks or a fork. Use the same utensils you used to cook with to eat with

So, it's basically just fried noodles and some filler, so let's start with the filler. I'm using scallions, garlic, and whatever scraps of meat I could find, but you coukd use spinach, bok choy, mushrooms, peppers, or whatever else you feel like. I generally wouldn't use cured meat but if you want to experiment, feel free

I chop all of that as fine as I can (this is personal preference because of sensory shit. Do whatever you feel like) and then start boiling the noodles. You could boil the noodles while you do this, but I've found it's better to have this ready because it takes a while to chop

Also, if you chose chopsticks earlier you can place them across your pan and they'll stop it from boiling over assuming they're wood

They need boiling because they're freeze-dried but if you use higher quality noodles they'll be all noodly already and not hard and crunchy, so this isn't necessary. Of course, at that point you risk losing the vibe of this being a quick, cheap college meal and becoming actual dinner

I generally use two blocks of instant noodles for this and eat it all, but this time I used three and saved some for later. Actually, after my first bowl I tried to go back for the rest thinking I was hungrier than I was and saved what I couldn't eat for today

Anyway. Boil those until they're softer, but still good and wavy. If they get too soft in the pot then they'll get even softer in the pan and might not be the texture you're looking for. Experiment with what works best for you

Also, I use the flavour packet. It's not the only flavouring I use as you'll see, but I find that it doesn't hurt

Next, drain the noodles and throw all the other ingredients in a wok, skillet or frying pan with either sesame oil or butter. If you do use oil, only use a little bit. You'll be using butter later. I also put the veg in before the meat since that's already been cooked, but you do you. I also put in some salt, a lot of pepper, and a little ginger powder since I didn't have fresh ginger

Fry all of that to your heart's content, and then dump in your noodles. Try and probably fail to combine the finicky little bits with the giant mass that you just covered them with, and throw in as much soy sauce as you're comfortable with, and a metric fucktonne (that's a little bit for imperial users. A smidgen. A nip) of butter. If you missed the salt and pepper before you could do it here but it feels wrong. Stir fry and toss in your wok to feel cool until everything is combined and the noodles dry out a little bit, and then serve

This makes enough for it to be a one a day kind of meal, so I generally make it at 2am when I haven't had breakfast yet. Today I was feeling fancy though, so I poured a small glass of my friend's insane pear mead that I'll never publicly admit is better than mine, and sat down to unwind.

Enjoy, my friends. And enjoy telling me how wrong my cooking is. I've seen some real crimes and know that god has bigger worries than my survival

[mildmayfoxe]

post the beans!!!!

ok slow beans! it's not a real recipe so much as just a set of loose ingredients and a dream. but here's what you need:

canned bean of choice. anything you'd put in a chili. usually i do black beans but this time i did pinto bc that's what i had

onion

pepper of some variety. i like poblanos but bells work just fine

tomato of choice. usually i do real tomato but this time i did tomato paste bc i didn't have any tomatoes. you can also use canned tomatoes (crushed, diced, whatev) but you probably don't want a full can

spices (cumin, paprika, chili powder, chipotle powder, chili flake, garlic, oregano, basil, etc. again: anything you'd put in chili) (use fresh garlic if u feel like it bc it will be better that way but i'm lazy & badia garlic parsley is my best friend) (salt & pep also obvi)

nutritional yeast & soy sauce!

citrus juice of choice. lime is ideal but lemon is also good

water/stock

it's been a while since i made this properly but i seem to remember that generally i do a half onion/half pep per can of beans but i think it's a full plum tomato? half a tomato? i don't know do whatever you want. i've also used cherry tomatoes for this. but this time around i did a full onion and full pepper and just one can of beans and as noted above tomato paste. i also added corn to my batch today

OK so dice up your veg. throw the onion in a pot with some oil or butter and let it get a little translucent & then put in your pepper (and fresh garlic) and let that cook a little. then if you want you can add your dry spices now so they can toast a little on the aromatics before you add wet stuff. now you put in your beans and tomato and some water! probably about a half cup to a cup of water. see how you feel. OH PUT IN CHICKEN STOCK HERE INSTEAD OF WATER! i forgot to do that this time!!!! i can't believe it! anyway you want it to be a little soupy bc it's gonna cook down. now you can add soy sauce and nutritional yeast. this is for UMAMI! it will help you make "meaty" beans. this is one of the best cooking tips i've ever learned, i put soy sauce in almost every bean thing i make. it's awesome. don't salt this until after you taste it with the soy sauce in. and don't forget the lime juice. taste it again to see if you need to add anything else. now you're just gonna let this simmer for a while, the longer the better. it's gonna cook down so if you need to add more liquid you can! usually i let this go at least half an hour. if you don't have a long time to let it cook probably go for tomato paste bc it incorporates quick- ideally your fresh tomatoes will break down nice over the long simmer. (this is why i call them "slow beans.") after you're tired of letting it sit around/when most of the liquid is gone (you still want SOME) go at it with a potato masher or the back of a spoon and get it mostly squished up until its kind of paste-y. these can be kind of wet or kind of dry, both are good. ok! it's done! you can use this in tacos, quesadillas, nachos, rice bowl, mix it in queso for dip, whatever. ENJOY YOUR BEANS!

[deadbeatbunni]

A vent, sorry

Today has been hard. I fasted for abt 3 days and then yesterday i had 280 cals, i was planning on abt 400 cals today but i 'binged' and had abt 1000 in total, and i only calling it a binge bc of the way i felt out of control when i was eating. I forget that extreme restriction makes you do this. I ate what would be a small meal for a normal person but my stomach had obviously shrunk and i felt full and sick. However it still just sparked that urge to keep eating, like my body was scared I'd never eat again (considering it tbf lol) I tried to purge but nothing came up bc of the specific foods I ate. I have felt sick for hrs and yet all i can think about is eating a whole pizza!?! Like it would be so hot and salty and cheesy and tasty. But i wont do it. I need to lose 3 lbs in the next week to be at my goal weight for this month and im sure I'll do it. Ive never been this terrified of gaining weight and ive had this disorder for years. i was fine eating this much and a bit more for 3 days in a row last week and somehow today feels like the end of the world

I fucking hate anorexia

Its not fucking fun, i am so ill physically and mentally

And I'm so ill that even though i just went through what caused this, I'm gonna fast tmr to fix the fact that i ate so much today. Because im stupid i guess? Maybe i shouldnt say that, ik its bc of the mental illness. Oh well, i told my boss im sick (not a lie tho) and i have tmr off

Probs gonna cut to get some closure for myself, and I'll try to keep reminding myself that it was OK to eat that food. If dr chris saw my cal intake for today he would tell me off and say its less than a toddler. This is good for my metabolism. I dont wanna go into plateau or that survival mode where some ppl start to gain from fasts. I even had healthy food like protein and fibre rich foods, and fresh veg, and lots of vitamins. I should try to be kind to myself like how I talk to others in this community

Tomorrow is a new day.

[week-2-hands-on]

Scene 1

(We open inside a small well furnished studio apartment somewhere on the Northeast coast James walks in with his friend Sarah mid conversation)

Sarah (Smoking a cigarette): I'm telling you I love my baby but I hate my baby, he's kept me up for the past two days nonstop crying and does he stop for his dad? NO no he insists on being a mommas boy and needs me constantly

James(sits down on a chair at a small table): Sarah it's a baby of course it needs you constantly

Sarah: Are you calling my baby, Your Godson an it?

James: Him, him I mean him, it's only been two months of calling it Anthony and him instead of nine months of calling him....it you gotta give me some time

Sarah: yea well other than being a mommas boy he happens to loooove his god uncle so you're coming to dinner tonight so I can get some sleep, I made ziti.

James: Why can't Matt watch his stupid baby and eat your crappy ziti

Sarah: Your grandma taught me how to make this ziti and if she were here right now shed hold you down as I beat you with her old spoon and Matt has a job unlike his unemployed best friend

James: Matt has two unemployed best friends? is he bigger than me?

Sarah: Funny funny James but you don't have a choice in this one

James: what're you talking ab......you don't mean(Suddenly gets up) are you seriously consideri...

Sarah(interupting): that's right motherfucker I'm cashing one of the IOU's you gave Matt during college(hands IOU) and you've never disrespected an IOU

James: (sitting back down defeteadly) I don't even like children, do you see me with any children of my own?

Sarah: And the world thanks you for that now are you coming later tonight or not?

James: fine, and you better use fresh tomatoes in the ziti this time since im being forced against my will

Sarah: if I use a second one will you stop complaining?

James: Do what you gotta do

Sc2

(Open in a much larger much nicer house one a family would live in Sarah is cooking and we see James putting an infant in a crib to which it immediately starts crying and he picks it up and it stops)

James: Fuck me kid you are annoyingly clingy

Sarah: do not say fuck in front of my child asshole

James: (Talking to the baby) I'm sure you won't be after spending your time with mom though(whispering) especially when she fucks up the ziti again

Sarah: If you are whispering about the ziti again I swear ill cut your tongue out!(baby starts crying)

James: (to the baby) did big bad mommy scare you? that's ok uncle James is here and he won't let mommy fuck up the ziti for you and nonnas sake

Sarah: Dear god I can't believe I'm saying this but there's beer in the fridge and a television in the living room can't you just take the baby there and veg

James: and what kind of role model does that make me?

Sarah: the kind who gets to eat tonight

James: (walking off stage)Well Anthony you and I have some serious things on discovery channel to watch and learn about. your dad would never be able to explain it to you because you were made in a glass tube

Sarah: I'm sure Matt would beg to differ

James: haven't you heard of evidence?

Sarah: says the lawyer who's been out of practice for 3 years, go sit down with Anthony ill finish up dinner and then go to sleep, make sure he eats and gets burped every one and a half to two hours, Matt'll be home from his business trip early in the morning . If I have to wake up for this baby James I will kill you and they will never find the body ok?

James:Understood

[farzanatrading]

Reasons to persuade you to increase the number of vegetables on your dinner plate.

HEALTH – stop’s launch with the egregious. They are full of nutrients packed with so numerous vitamins and minerals our body nearly sings with delight when we eat them. They're what we call ‘ nutrient thick ’ rather than ‘ energy thick ’, meaning for veritably many calories, we get a LOT of nutritive benefits.

VARIETY – to be honest, without veggies, utmost of our refections are different types of meat, funk, and fish with chuck

, rice, pasta. Not so delightful or intriguing. Veggies give our refections a point of difference. Indeed if we've funk 5 nights in a row, one night we can serve it with salad, the coming night with some roasted veggies, the coming with stir fried veg, and on the last night we can bleach our favorite brickle

Flora and serve it with crush! Literally the options are endless, these were just simple ideas.

COLOUR – if you do n’t suppose this is a good reason, you need to look at your food more frequently. Food looks so much further amazing when there are pops of green, orange, red, unheroic or grandiloquent throughout it. Food is meant to be enjoyed and you'll notice a whole sensitive difference when food looks more charming and will love the taste indeed more.

Plutocrat – buying seasonal fresh veg, or firmed veg will save you, plutocrat. Meat, fish, and funk are precious. You'll save$$$ by throwing further veg and legumes into your reflections and they will go so much further.

TASTE – this is where I really have to vend it. Yes, veggies taste good! There are so numerous veggies and ways of preparing veggies that I heavily dispute anyone that says they detest all veg. Let’s look at the carrot – you can have it brickle and raw, boiled and mushy, speckled with honey, ignited with pepper, julienned in a stir shindig sauce, entwined into polls you get the picture.

 I actually don't watch if someone has to have a splash of dressing or some oil painting and sauces to make them eat veg – find the styles that you love and get them into you! I'll be the first to admit that I detest raw tomatoes, seriously I try and make myself eat them once a week but I detest them. And that’s ok!! Because I like them cooked, and love red capsicum, and other red veggies so I still get the virtuousness away.

Online grocery store Farzana serves Dubai and the surrounding area. We have a large selection of products to meet all of your daily needs. All of our products are available for home delivery. Fresh fruits and online vegetables, fresh and frozen fish, and meat products are all available in our online grocery store.

[troiings]

5+ headcanon if you wouldn't mind: Organic farmer Tissaia (or winery owner) and chef Yen. Loads of food and flirting, and maybe Yen then creates a winning dish inspired by Tissaia and profess her love to her during some kind of interview.

Oh man haven't done one of these in a while. I love surprise prompts xD

I see your chef Yen and raise you...

Yen recently opened a brick and mortar café, and the menu is all about clean, organic eating, etc. Fair trade coffees, responsibly sourced grains, locally-baked breads, local produce and cheese, etc.

(Previously the business was a food truck with a decent following; they were successful enough that Yen decided to take out a loan and give the permanent storefront thing a go. So far it's looking ok?)

Expanding the business means expanding the menu, and that's where Tissaia comes in. They've been doing fruits for smoothies, but not a whole lot of veg. Yen wants sandwiches with fresh, juicy tomatoes. More greens. Salads! Soups! (She makes damn fine corn chowder and broccoli cheese soups, and had been working on a chicken sausage and kale soup recipe, but soup never really made much sense for the food truck. Now she's gonna have soup, dammit, and she needs to source that veg.)

Tissaia does source produce for a couple local establishments, as one of the larger local farmers, but her big thing isn't even her own farm—it's urban farming. She's spearheaded 3 different urban farming initiatives locally, but of course the whole thing doen't get much attention outside of the circle that are already interested in that sort of thing. Regardless, she helps source seeds, fertilizers, etc, and leads up most of the logistics involved in training folks to tend the plots and all that. Soil pH! Etc etc.

When Yen first contacts DeVries Farms, it's via email. Tissaia signs off as T. DeVries, and y'all bitches know exactly where this is headed but I'm taking you there anyway. Yen likes a boots-on-the-ground approach when it comes to knowing where her food is coming from—she's saved up to make a few trips overseas to meet the farmers responsible for her coffee, tea, quinoa... and has definitely met the folks that bake her bread and grow her fruit. T. DeVries is "happy to oblige" when asked for a tour.

T. DeVries is... (Tissaia arches an eyebrow, her hand still caught up in Yennefer's where she's been too caught up in her surprise to release her. "Something wrong?" "What? Oh, shit, no—sorry, just. Wow." "..." "sorry, I think I expected a, uh... very large... man..." "...I get that a lot, actually. Kind of the point.")

(Tissaia learned early that people don't really take women farmers seriously for some reason)

Anyway it's a great working relationship and Yen keeps conveniently deciding to add more recipes with a wide array of produce to the menu, which is a great excuse to call Tissaia (she prefers phone calls really, and Yen doesn't mind at all when her voice sounds like that)

As the cafe gains traction she's interviewed for a local paper and, naturally, talks about the choice to support family farms and fair trade, and thanks all her local suppliers because she's very passionate about supporting local business as well as clean eating in general. She might start prattling on about Tissaia. She might realize it, be embarrassed about it, but not have the wherewithal to stop herself. ("And our newest supplier is DeVries Farms, just outside of town. All the veg you see comes from our there—honestly the best tomatoes I've ever tasted. And Tissaia—uh, the owner, Tissaia DeVries, she a phenomenal person and a joy to work with; actually she's spearheaded two... three?? urban farming campaigns here in the city. If you haven't heard of them you should definitely check them out, because they're great initiatives that really help lower-income families without easy access to produce and healthier options, and her knowledge and expertise has really helped drive these initiatives to success..." [insert more q&a about urban farming, followed by a half joking comment about how fond Yen seems to be of Tissaia; cue nervous laughter])

Anyway after Yen somehow winds up not only giving a huge shoutout to the urban farming campaigns (which brings in a LOT of volunteers and donations and general interest very quickly) but also managing to play it as if the success of her own business rests on Tissaia's shoulders lmao, Tissaia shows up at the café one day and Yen's eyes just about bug out of her head. ("I thought it was time I taste the fruits of my labour, so to speak. And besides, I have a gift for you." "A... gift?" "As thanks. For the positive attention for the urban farms. They tend to fly under the radar, but the truth is they need community support—volunteers to water and weed. Honestly just one or two families deciding to save their vegetable scraps and take them to the farms for composting instead of sending them to the landfill is helpful.") (Idk what the gift is, use your imagination)

Tissaia is... suddenly a fixture at the café. And Yen starts keeping fliers and shit up to advertise the farms, etc. Yen insists that Tissaia eats free. Tissaia insists that she pays. The compromise is that Tissaia winds up tipping the amount she would have paid for her meal. (The staff is happy so Yen keeps insisting that nobody is to ever take Tissaia's money for food or drinks. The staff is happy to comply.)

The elephant in the room of course is that Yen said some pretty gay shit while she was talking Tissaia and her farm up. Neither of them mentions it but Jaskier and Triss ("the staff") ship it REAL hard and make no secret of it.

The day Yen can't stand it anymore and just plants one right on Tissaia’s mouth in the back corner of the dining area, Jaskier deadass pelts them with a handful of carrot ends and yells at them to "get a room". Yen: "Oy! You're meant to be saving those for broth, not target practice!"

[pigeonflavouredcake]

I'm an adult now take my advice

(or don't i'm not your dad)

Idk how old my followers are overall but i want to make this post in case any of you are actually teens... I am Officially 20 now. I am no longer a teenager so here are some things I learned as a poor teenager that helped me as a poor adult. Some are witchy, some are just about life, most are food related. Buckle up this will get pretty long.

Write as much down as you can bc puberty can really fuck with your memory.

Staying up late because you simply can't sleep is not something to be worried about unless you want to change that. It's pretty much all your natural body clock.

Get a big folder. Like a massive accordion folder and put all your personal documents in, birth/adoption certificates, bank statements, prescription receipts, diplomas, etc. So if you're ever in a dangerous situation at home you can make your escape a lot easier.

Now is a good time to learn new things that aren't school related. Practice cooking your favourite meals, learn how to properly clean a bathroom, if cleaning is overwhelming there are methods online that can help with that. Like playing a spot the difference game.

NO, tarot is not a closed practice, tarot is a tool for everyone and NO, tarot decks do not have to be gifted to you, you can buy one for yourself. I don't even know where that came from but it's complete bs.

Save the little gift baggies you get when you buy jewellery and use them as spell bags.

Stay away from any woman who calls her vag a yoni. it's weird.

You may want to be seen as smart and mature because it's better than being treated like a kid but you are still a kid. Your safety matters more than how mature and responsible you are. An older person should NOT be talking to you in a romantic/flirtatious setting and if they say it's because you're mature for your age or they can't wait until you're legal fucking bully the living shit out of them then block them and warn your friends. that attitude is creepy as hell bc they want someone they have power over. Same with any friends that brag about their partner being 15/16/17 when they're 18. BULLY THEM THEY'RE GROSS AND THEY DESERVE IT.

If you're in a country with the NHS USE IT NOW WHILE IT'S FREE. The first 6-8 weeks of therapy is free from the NHS. Eye tests and dentist check ups and medication are free untill you're 19 GET THEM NOW.

You can make your own oat milk by blending up oats and water. You don't need to cook with oil, there's enough of it in processed food and fresh veg have enough water in them to cook straight in a pan. You don't need the seasoning packet in ramen you can make your own. Tamari sauce has less sodium than soy sauce. Food always tastes better when it's in season. Try to find space for two food wastes, one for processed/cooked food one for raw. The raw food can be composted and given back to the earth

Best healthiest dinner option I can think of is steamed veggies. Here's my recipe: Heat up a pan on high, pour a bit of water in and then your veggies, stir frequently until all the water is gone. Turn heat down to low. Coat with something like balsamic vinegar and add any seasoning you like. Cover and steam for 10 minutes ish and you're good. You can serve that with a grain or some noodles.

Locally sourced meat and fish is WAY better for the environment than supermarket because there's less preservatives and they're more resourceful with their products.

A standard pie dough is one of the easiest things you can make and the trick is in the amount. Half the flour equals the fat, half the fat equals the sugar. so if you have 200g of flour you need 100g of fat and 50g of sugar. Just throw them in a bowl and mix together and add some cold water to bind together into a dough. It should be solid and little sticky, if it's crumbling add more water, if it's not holding it's shape add more flour. then just fridge it for a few hours to set and you're good.

You made your own soup/stew/pot thingy and you got left overs for the next day? Put it back on the cooker and bring to the boil on high, once it's bubbling take the heat down to low and simmer for 10 minutes (keep stirring if it keeps bubbling). This will help kill any bacteria that developed overnight that might make you sick.

Foraging is good but wear gloves, don't take all from one place and don't eat anything you pick until it's been thoroughly washed. Don't be afraid to go hog wild on things like blackberries, dandelions, or nettles. those things are an invasive species.

Deer are bigger than you think they are.

Air drying takes longer but it will help your clothes last. You can also hand wash with a bowl of hot water and about a teaspoon of washing up powder. Air drying also goes for your hair too.

Stock up on your favourite scented candles any size is ok and use them for spells and rituals.

You got a ghost in your house? Leave them be they're usually just passing through.

If you can't focus on work without music but it needs to be specifically wordless and needs to be easy to fill your brain so you don't focus on every noise other people make listen to animal crossing music that shit got me through two years worth of academic reading.

Bus is late or can't find your keys? Stop looking and start complaining. They'll turn up as soon as you give up.

Piercings are a medical procedure and are safer when they're done with a needle because they're hollow, so they're carving out the skin and cartilage instead of just pushing jewellery through like a gun does. Go to a tattoo parlour that also does piercings bc they're likely to be a lot stricter with rules and customer care.

Life is gonna kick us all in the but so we gotta be there to help eachother out however we can. It definitely feels like it's everyone for themselves but it doesn't have to be.

[magickastiel]

✨ B&B’S CHRISTMAS ADVENT CALENDAR ✨

10th December - pyjamas & fuzzy socks

I am, once again, attempting to write one story through different prompts. I really enjoyed it last time so let’s see if I can do it through December!

check out the other days | now on ao3

Summary: Just a month after defeating Chuck, Sam & Dean are faced with their first real Christmas. Eileen, Jody, Donna, Claire & Kaia descend on the Bunker for a Christmas celebration like no other. But for Dean, Castiel’s confession still weighs heavy. It might be easier to deal with if Cas was actually around to talk to but he and Jack are busy in Heaven. Surely they don’t have time to come home for Christmas…do they?

🧦

Dean’s doing well Christmas Eve morning.

He’s wandering about in his robe, making plans for his cooking. He’s got prep to do and later he can get Jack to help him peel the veg ready to cook tomorrow. He’s also decided to surprise Sam with a spinach, feta and sweet potato tart. He’s been complaining about having too much meat both at Thanksgiving and Christmas so Dean found a recipe last week that looks good and he's eager to try it.

He’s in his element. The kitchen is enough to take the edge off his problems and make him concentrate on the good stuff - his family are all laughing and talking in the next room. That’s all he needs.

It’s mid-morning when he emerges, a fresh tray of hot cocoa in hand. He hands them out, chatting easily with everyone as he goes.

He stops dead as he hands over the last one.

Cas takes the mug gently and smiles. Except he’s not…he’s not wearing his trenchcoat. Or suit. Or shirt. Just some soft looking deep blue pyjamas and fluffy socks with bees on them.

Cas’ smile fades into concern.

“Dean? Are you alright?”

“Y-yeah. Yeah!” He clears his throat. “Just, uh, surprised. You finally got out of that trenchcoat. A-and into something else. Obviously. Not like you’re wandering around naked or anything.”

Cas looks confused.

“Yes. That would be inappropriate by the majority of human standards.”

Dean forces a laugh. He can feel Jody and Eileen’s eyes burning into the back of his head.

“I just gotta. Uh…” He waves vaguely towards the kitchen. “Ya know. Get, uh…get preppin’.”

“Of course. And thank you for the cocoa. While I cannot taste it as humans do, I do find it rather comforting in a way coffee is not. And the texture of the marshmallows is rather pleasing.”

“Good. Great!” Dean says hurriedly, not knowing why he was quite so fixated with the image of marshmallows slowly melting on Cas’ tongue.

“Dean.” Jody’s voice is firm and grounding behind him. “You said you wanted my help prepping?”

“Huh? No, I didn’t - ” She glares and he blinks. “Uh. Yeah! Yeah, I definitely did say that. Thanks.”

“Oh.” Cas says after taking a small sip of his cocoa. “If you need help with anything, I would be willing - ”

“I’m sure we’ve got it covered!” Jody interrupts, smiling a little too desperately. “Eileen’s helping too. Aren’t you?”

“Yes!” Eileen leaps up, making Sam jump.

“Really?” Sam says, a frown creasing his brow. “I thought you hated cooking? You said you’re awful at it.”

Eileen recovers quickly. “I can’t do it but I know a great family recipe for, uh…”

“Stuffing.” Dean blurts. “Sounds amazing.”

“Mmhmm!” Eileen nods, scurrying across the room to join Jody and Dean as they retreat. She waves to Sam over her shoulder. “See you later!”

In the safety of the kitchen, Dean regains enough sense to be toe-curlingly embarrassed.

He squeezes his eyes closed so hard light bursts behind his lids. “Thanks for the rescue.”

“Looked like you were struggling and I had to take pity before someone else noticed.”

When he opens his eyes, both Jody and Eileen are staring at him.

“What?”

“Are we gonna talk about why you had a teeny mental breakdown just then?” Jody crosses her arms, waiting impatiently.

“Do we have to?”

“Uh huh.” Jody nudges him. “I think that’s what you need because - ”

“Because it looked like you saw Cas in different clothes and almost got a - ”

“Ok, ok!” Dean cuts off Eileen and glares as she smirks at him. Jody is badly hiding a smile. He huffs. “It just…threw me, that’s all. He’s always wearing that coat and I’ve never really noticed - ”

“How hunky he is?”

“How broad his shoulders are.” He corrects with a flaming face.

Eileen snorts. “Same thing.”

Jody gives up trying to hide her smile. “Look, don’t you think it’s time you addressed the fact that, emotions aside, you do think Cas is attractive? Come on, let’s start with that.”

He wants to deny it, he thinks he should deny it. But the image of Cas, somehow both soft and firm, clad in pyjamas that cling a little around the biceps and thighs, swims in front of his eyes. He wants to reach out and touch, wants to feel how warm he is, feel his heartbeat under his palm.

His body tingles.

“Ok. Fine. He’s…attractive.” His mouth feels dry. “But everyone knows that, right? I mean, he’s a good looking guy! We’ve all got eyes. That…that doesn’t mean anything.”

Jody and Eileen share a look. Before they can say anything, Jack appears in the doorway.

He raises his hand in greeting.

“Hello! I feel sick.”

[bluewithpurplepolkadots]

You know I’ve been doing a bit of online research about rabbits for a while as it is possibly going to be a future pet?

I want to snort in frustration sometimes at the fact people sometimes don’t agree on things like whether certain vegetables are good like everyday, occasionally or never for them. Like broccoli. Because like it’s my own favourite vegetable at the moment so i thought I’d check via Google.

Insert UK pet charity says yes daily is good as like one of the five or six veg mix you should give them (like you don’t give them the same one vegetable everyday! They need a mix!) and American internet is like: no it gives them gas, only occasionally or like never you monster/idiot in this incredibly condescending tone. I’m leaning to no I guess?(I mean said charity thinks hutches are necessary and everything else leans to me not doing that: bunny is getting an enclosure inside at least at first and who the heck knows it/they might even free roam eventually as a completely indoor pet but they are right on water bowls being better instead of bottles). Also same with kale apparently. But: I am… confusion.

Some things are constant: some herbs are fine like thyme etc, carrots are too high in sugar as an everyday thing, iceberg lettuce is never and romaine lettuce is good but some things are just… guys the only thing I know for certain really is 80 percent of their diet has to be hay and there’s different kinds based on age (alfalfa for growing bunnies,Timothy for adults). That’s fine, I get it, I get the different types it’s simple and they just need a constant fresh supply. But when it comes to the other 20 percent? What???? Like I need to give them a bowl of this stuff in morning and evening. Kind of important. Also do you like… weight how much you give? What does your average sized bunny get? Or do you just give them like a handful each time and that’s fine?

Ok honestly rabbit tumblr is there a salad mix in a UK or Irish major supermarket which is good? That rabbit owners swear by? This isn’t an immediate issue I’m still waiting until I’m ready for this and have all the stuff and place together. This is months in the future: but like. Man.

[ub-sessed]

Depression food

Everyone talks about how important it is to eat well when you're depressed in spite of how hard that is to do when you're depressed, if only because you don't have the cognitive ability to think of something to eat. So I'm compiling a list of depression foods.

Ideally these should meet as many of the following criteria as possible:

SUPER EASY TO PREPARE (sometimes all we're up to is opening a package)

long shelf life (we need to be able to eat even when we're not able to go to the store to buy fresh food. I fucking love avocados but you're not going to see them here because they have a usable window of about two hours, and when you're depressed you don't need the shame and sorrow that comes from missing that window)

comforting

nutritious, or at least not ridiculously unhealthy

contain more than one food group (cuz you know we're not gonna be preparing two separate food things)

Here's what I have so far, in no particular order:

Stir fry (can contain literally anything)

Sesame noodles

Fried rice

Bread & cheese (try not to live off nothing but this if you ever want to poo again)

Ice cream

Chicken pillows (I don't know what these are actually called. They're frozen stuffed chicken breasts. My favourite is broccoli and cheese, but there's also ham and cheese as well as garlic butter?)

Cream of Wheat

Cheese and tomato sandwich

Bottled smoothies like Happy Planet

V8/vegetable juice

Frozen tv dinners like Hungry Man

Snack size apple sauce or canned fruit

Frozen corn dogs

Frozen pizza (with as many toppings as possible for nutrients)

Frozen pot stickers

Blueberries and/or bananas and yogurt

Hard boiled eggs (boil a bunch and throw them in the fridge for later!)

Pasta with jarred sauce, chopped tomato, jarred olives, basil, grated cheese, olive oil, whatever

Hot dogs with sauerkraut (or cheese)

Fruit when it's in season

Tortilla chips with salsa and sour cream

Smoothies: frozen fruit/veg, dairy, Carnation instant breakfast, oats, etc. (from @cathsith)

Leftovers

Breakfast burrito (tortilla, scrambled eggs -- microwave --, cheese, salsa, whatever)

Mug cake: Sometimes the idea of food is so unappealing that only something hot and chocolatey fresh out of the oven will do. Fortunately this cake only takes 3 minutes to make.

Easy and Appealing Fruit (from @castillon02)

TIPS:

Remember folks, disposable dishes and cutlery are totally OK!

If none of the options is appealing enough to seem worth the effort, drink some water. Often food is more appetizing after some water, and if nothing else, at least you drank some water!

I reblog pretty pictures of food under my #food tag. When I'm having trouble motivating myself to eat, I find that scrolling my #food tag and looking at the pictures makes me hungry, which can help get me into the kitchen.

When my anxiety is keeping me from me from eating anything ("That's too unhealthy," "That's too much work," "I'd have to wash dishes," "Oh you should save that for your daughter," "You already ate that today," "That doesn't taste good," "That's too cold," "That's too hot," "That will make you constipated," "That will make you fat," "That will take too long," etc., etc. This is the "freeze" part of "fight, flight or freeze"), I take a little break from thinking about food and do a relaxation exercise (see my pinned post).

Please add your own suggestions!

[sarahjkl82-blog]

Artistic Instinct Chapter Nine

Header thanks to the lovely @yespolkadotkitty

Summary: Marcus Pike and OC Anushka Pierce have been selected to work on a 5 eyes (Australia, Canada, NZ, the UK and US) intelligence team to track down art forgeries as a part of taking down an international white terrorism cell. Marcus is trying to escape his broken heart, Anushka is just trying to escape what the world expects of her.

Word count: 6500

Warnings: Language as always, warning of racist language (Nush talking about her mother's experiences), yearning, fluff to second base (yes, my darlings- IT IS ON!), alcohol is mentioned, food, anxiety attacks.

Pairing: Marcus Pike x reader (OC)

This comes with a MASSIVE THANK YOU to the lovely @yespolkadotkitty , who read, re-read, pointed out the constant flipping between tenses and gave me the confidence to try to write something. This is the first thing I have written since angsty poetry as a teenager. Apologies if it is shit!

People often think artists

Create with their hands

But really they create

with their hearts

So please be gentle

For we wear our vulnerability

On our sleeves

And freely give all we have

Hoping someone will fall

In love with the parts we offer

R. Evelyn

Chapter Nine

The sharp buzz of the door startles you out of your daydream. Laden with roughly the entire contents of your spice cupboard, vegetables, meat and prawns, your hands are crisscrossed with creases from where the weight of the totes has gouged at your skin. A smart-looking kindly gentleman greets you, “You must be Ms Pierce. Mr Pike has asked for you to wait here for him.”

Wow! Marcus’ place has a concierge - who did he have to blow to get a place like this?!

Throwing the bags onto one of the hotel lounge-like chairs, you slump into another as you rub soreness from your hands. A small ping tells you that the lift has arrived - you look over in the direction of the noise, a tremor of excitement rippling through you. An adorably scruffy Marcus, wearing old jeans and a t-shirt, steps out - his face utterly beaming on seeing you. “Hey! How are you doing?” he leans in to kiss your cheek twice - hang on, when did this start being a thing?

“Why didn’t you let me pick you up? You’ve carried so much over- lemme see your hands,” his brow knits on seeing the rapidly reddening welts as he takes your hands in his, brushing his thumbs gently across your palms.

“You live four roads away from me - they’re not that bad! And anyway, you can help me now- which floor do you live on?” You outwardly roll your eyes at the sweetness Marcus shows you, secretly enjoying the stroke of his fingers and the ghostly press of his lips still burning a hole in your cheek.

Marcus takes all of the bags from the chair, refusing point blank to entertain you helping him to take them upstairs - you watch as his arms twitch under the weight, enjoying the mixture of confusion and shock at your strength across his face, “you carried all of this?”

Nodding at him, you try to take a bag again, but he dangles it just out of reach, “Watch it - you do realise that I have two other brothers apart from Ads? I will think nothing of rugby tackling you to the floor and pinning you down,” you warn, enjoying the flush brought to his cheeks.

“You’ll be the death of me,” Marcus flusters as he calls the lift, handing you the smallest, lightest bag.

✪✪✪✪✪

Exiting at the top floor, you’re taken aback by the amount of light and quiet that washes throughout the building. Feeling so removed from the shadows cast from the tower blocks and the hustle and bustle of the streets below, the broad daylight offers a sense of serenity, a peace that invites itself into the soul and makes itself at home. As Marcus unlocks the door to his flat, you kick off your shoes at the entrance, “You don’t have to do that,” he offers through the keys in his mouth, holding the door open with his elbow, still refusing any help from you.

“Oh believe me, if I didn’t, my mum’s radar would go off and I would be cruising for a bruising,” you giggle, taking in the glorious spaciousness of his apartment, “I promise my feet aren’t too stinky and that I put on clean socks.”

“Whatever makes you comfortable,” Marcus’ eyes crinkle at you, “Can I get you something to drink or eat?”

“A coffee would be ace - strong and black please,” you reply, your gaze drinking in the details of his home. Books line the shelves along one wall - such a mixture of titles ranging from airport bestsellers to obscure art catalogues - the relief to see actual paper and hardbacks adorning the shelves rather than trinkets and plants when so many keep their books electronically in their pockets.

A couple of large canvases lie propped against another - long hours preventing them from being hung - their bright colours sure to bring joyful hues to quite a stark room. There are a few photo frames dotted around - mostly pictures of a moment in time rather than poses - of people you assume are friends and family from back in the States. Handing you a steaming mug, Marcus looks over your shoulder as you look at a photo of an older couple dancing and laughing at a wedding, “That’s my mamá and papá at my oldest sister’s wedding. It was such a magical day - just so much love in the air.”

“You can feel the joy radiating from them,” you offer, lowering your gaze from him to grab the frame next to the picture of his parents, “Are these your sisters or cousins? You all look very alike.”

“Yeah, my little sisters,” he grins proudly. “This one is Beth - she’s two years younger and is a paediatrician in Texas. Has two kids with her wife, Sophie. And this one is Cat - she’s doing her own thing out on the West Coast as a musician. They definitely inherited all the clever and cool genes.”

“Hah! You’re kinder to your sisters than I am to my brothers,” you grin, “They’re all total idiots but due to some weird genetic and biological insistence, I still love them.”

Taking a gulp of your coffee, you turn back towards him, “Come on you, we’d better get to work if you want a curry this evening.”

He pouts, looking more like a sulky little boy than a middle aged man. You can’t help but laugh at the sad puppy dog eyes he is conjuring at the thought of work, “Oh poppet, what’s wrong?” you teasingly mock.

“I kinda hoped you were a magician who could just magic a curry outta nowhere so we could watch films til the others arrive,” Marcus grumps shoving his hands in his pockets.

“Well, there is UberEats for that but you horrible lot put me up to this so you’re going to help,” you wag your finger at him, “But as you’re the only one here, you get the honour of being the chief taster,” you add, tapping him playfully on the nose.

With a soft huff and a furrow of the brow, Marcus guides you into the kitchen where, whilst he was making your coffee, he has helpfully already put all the fresh produce in his fridge as the sides are delightfully blank apart from the bags of spices.

“What are we making today, Chef?”

“Ok, meat dishes are a spiced yoghurt leg of lamb, a keema - don’t you give me that look, a cardamom butter chicken, and, a prawn and courgette curry,” you turn to Marcus’ fridge to find the lamb, “Needs to come to room temperature before we cook it.”

“My tummy is rumbling already,” Marcus adds, his eyes glinting excitedly as he licks along his lower lip, the skin glistening damply. You have never quite figured out whether your love of his lips is due to their fullness or the association with the kindness of his words.

“Hah- you’re not getting away without having some veggies, too, mister,” you cluck as you hand him a bag of onions and several bulbs of garlic to skin, chop and crush for the various dishes.

“Ok, Moooom,” Marcus dramatically rolls his eyes at your dictate, “I admit, I’d rather eat sugary or salty things over green stuff but I can make an exception for curried veg.”

The arch of your eyebrow virtually reaches your hairline at him teasingly calling you mom, so you reach for the towel, twist it and flick him hard on what you’d hoped would be his hip but catch him square on his arse instead.

A yelp of pain and wide eyes greet your action, “Did you just…? Oh, it is on.! You might think you’re tough from your brothers but my sisters taught me sneaky tactics.”

“Come at me, bro!” you taunt from the other side of the kitchen, putting up a boxing stance.

Brandishing the hand without the paring knife in your general direction, he answers, “Nope, gonna use the element of surprise and attack when you least expect it!”

Tutting your tongue at Marcus’ weak ass response, you grab the spices you need to prepare under the power of your pestle and mortar. With the waft of roasting cumin soaring through the air and your battle with your boss at a supposedly declared ceasefire, everything starts to feel comfortable and easy again. You could be six years old and standing on the chair next to your mum, watching like a hawk as she lovingly prepared meals for your family with an ever burgeoning belly. It was then, during those hours shared in the galley kitchen that became your time with her when normally it felt pretty split between her work as a GP and your brothers.

What the fuck… You jump out of your skin when a warm, solid wall presses you out of your nostalgic reverie, “Hah! Pinned ya! Sneaky tactics- told ya they worked,” a deep, soft voice whispers in your ear.

Your heart flutters like a bird trying to escape its rib cage with the closeness of Marcus, the heat rising through your body from your proximity to him - a visceral response to the glorious cocktail of masculine smell from his aftershave and body wash.

What do I do next?

Why can’t I bloody think straight?

Wiggling yourself around so that you face him, his face now so close that you can feel his warm breath upon your cheeks. Your eyes playfully catch the steady gaze of Marcus’ deep soulful pools. It would only take the smallest of movements to reach forwards and kiss him right on that stupidly gorgeous, plush Cupid’s bow and crease. But… what if he doesn’t want that? He’s my fucking boss - that would be a stellar move to make…

Instead of the tiny incline forwards to press your lips against his as every inch of you screams to do so, you drop to the floor and crawl out from between his legs, “Not pinned well enough it seems,” you tease haltingly as your tongue sticks in your dry throat.

As you check the browning of the cumin seeds, out of the corner of your eye you see Marcus’ head drop sadly, hearing a small sigh - his hands still upon the work surface and feet not having moved from the position he had pinned you in moments earlier.

Did he want to...? No, surely not.

“I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have done that, Nush,” Marcus humbly apologises, pushing himself off the side, “I hope that I haven’t made things awkward.”

“Don’t be an idiot,” you softly say, pouring the roasted cumin into the mortar, ready to be ground, “I was the one who flicked you on your arse - I am the one who should be apologising.”

You beckon gently to Marcus, who has now taken refuge in the furthest corner of the kitchen from you - wringing his hands instead of chopping the onions, “Come over here - I want you to experience one of my most favourite smells of childhood. These are roasted cumin seeds and when you grind them, they release the most heavenly scent.”

After a few grinds, you offer the bowl towards Marcus’ face as he closes the gap between you, “I… Wow! I wouldn’t have thought it would make such a difference but it’s almost like you’ve entirely transformed it. See,” the dimple deepens in that right cheek of his, “you are a magician.”

“I love how spices - a bit like paint - can take on completely different characters depending on how you treat them. Leave the spice whole and you have this mild and fragrant taste. If you crush them, then their attitude comes back tenfold with a vengeance. Toast them, and they may as well be Clark Kent in a phone booth.”

Looking up you see Marcus gazing at you with a sweet half smile on his face - could he like me… like that?

“Sorry, you don’t need to hear me blathering on,” you fluster, waving your hand in a dismissive gesture as the heat rises through your face.

Shaking his head gently without dropping your regard, “No. No, please don’t ever stop. Your passion for things is beautiful.”

“Growing up, I didn’t realise that other people didn’t have whole cupboards filled to the brim with herbs, spices and seasonings. I mean, for all the damage the British Empire reeked, you’d have hoped that the spices would have entered more of their culture, but no! Apparently, my family was the weird one for having food with a flavour,” you shrug your shoulders at some of the ridiculous things you’d heard as a child - accusations of differences you’d never thought to be of note.

Marcus chuckles at your indignance, “It’s funny you should say that. I didn’t realise that my mamá had an accent until it was pointed out to me when I was a kid.”

Noting your slightly confused expression, Marcus explains, “She’s Argentinian- came to the States as a political refugee as she was a journalist following the disappearances during the Dirty War. Met my dad, and I came along very soon after, and the rest is history..”

You can’t help but laugh at the flush on Marcus’ cheeks as he recounts his personal history to you, “Love can’t be held back when it hits and it’s obvious that they’re still crazy about each other now from that photo.”

“Exactly, no point in wasting time when you know what you want,” Marcus grins, looking at his feet.

“My parents have a similar story. My dad is as English as they come - I mean we’re on a freaking island so there’s no true thing as being completely English. My mum is from Pakistan - Karachi - it’s in the South.”

“She came over due to the fighting between East and West Pakistan - the two countries that are now Pakistan and Bangladesh. It kept interrupting her studies to become a doctor so she came to England and restarted her degree here.”

Marcus’ brow creases in thought, “Why did she restart her degree? Could the credits not just be transferred to the college she moved to in the UK?”

“Hah- yeah. It was the seventies, during a time where all Southern Asians were P*kis - no matter where they were from on the Indian subcontinent- and thought of as dirty, lesser beings. There were constant race riots for anyone who wasn’t ethnically white or English. She would never have been taken seriously with her mediocre medical training from some Adobe hut in the middle of a jungle,” you fume, pounding the seeds into fragments. The mortar being threatened with the same fate too.

Marcus’ fingers wrap around your wrist to try and prevent your rage at the ignorance of others from causing you an injury, “I am so sorry,” he pulls you into a warm, tender hug, tucking your head under his chin, “How long before food can take care of itself so we can put a film on? I think we both need a rest.”

“Hmmm, ten minutes and then most things can simmer or be switched off ready for a reheat or proper cook this evening,” you say, leaning reluctantly out of his comforting arms to go check on the bubbling saucepans of food.

“‘K. I’ll go get things set up so you can flop for a bit,” Marcus touches you gently on your shoulder as he goes to set up the front room. You go to squeeze his hand but it’s removed from your shoulder too quickly for your response.

✪✪✪✪✪

“You ready?” Marcus calls through the wall as you turn off the heat from the final pans.

“Mhm,” you mumble in response to his question - double, triple checking that everything is off. Too many fire alarms ruining perfectly lovely meals or moments.

“What did you pick?” You ask, curling up on the other end of the sofa to Marcus, “Do you have no cushions?”

“Shit, no -I’m a guy, what can I say? - lemme grab the pillows from the bed,” Marcus jumps up, calling through from his bedroom, “Bet you have loads on your couch.”

“A fuckload, but, mainly to hide the fact the springs have gone. It’s like a precarious balancing act of comfort on there,” you surreptitiously sniff the pillow, inhaling the smell of Marcus’ shampoo, “Did you give me your pillow?”

A confused look is shot at you from the other end of the sofa, “Whaddya mean?”

“Smells of your hair,” you say as you squish it into the perfect comfy shape, “Like a mixture of lemon and eucalyptus.”

“That’s a sharp nose you’ve got. I gave you the other side though,” Marcus huffs through a chuckles he shakes his head at your somewhat strange comment, “Guess I’ve been sleeping across both sides then.”

“Best thing about sleeping alone- getting to starfish across the bed. Unless of course…”

Marcus can’t help but laugh at your awkward dig to find out whether he’d brought home the goddess from Friday’s antics, “So you wanna know if I brought home Kemi?”

“She was very beautiful. You’d have been mad not to,” you try to school your expression as best you can, keeping your eyes glued to Bing Crosby and Grace Kelly singing about true love, desperate to hide the jealousy coursing through your veins.

“Must be mad then. Didn’t even kiss her,” Marcus honestly answers whilst copying your tactic of staring at the tv, “She could see that there was someone else I liked so it would have been cruel to have done anything.”

You mull this over in silence, trying not to speak, to ask a million questions.

“Nush.”

“Mhm?”

“Can I talk to y…”

You both jump as an alarm goes off on your phone to remind you to turn the lamb down in the oven.

“Oh shit. Hold that thought,” you jump up from the sofa, heading in the direction of the kitchen with zero thought of what the man at the end of the sofa is desperately trying to tell you. Fiddling with Marcus’ ridiculously swanky oven until it looks like it is doing what you want it to do, you walk back in with two ice cold beers from his fridge.

“Raided your fridge,” you cheekily grin, holding one out to Marcus, the condensation running, down your fingers, “Hope you don’t mind!”

“Good thinking, Batman,” Marcus nods in appreciation, “Any more alarms set to scare us both?”

“Only due to go off when the film is done, so…” you yawn widely, “We’ve got a while yet.”

Marcus’ hand that was slung over the back of the sofa, lifts to stroke your shoulder, “You sleepy? C'mere, you.” With a soft tug of your t-shirt sleeve, he pulls you into his side - your willingness to sink into his broad chest very apparent. Your ear is pressed against him, his heartbeat singing a lullaby to you as his fingers stroke and caress the silken waves of your hair. You wonder at how this man - a total stranger a week ago - has seemingly knitted himself into becoming a cocoon of safety for you, his gentleness and calm offering a haven of tranquility in your otherwise cacophonous world, as the light in the room slowly fades to black.

✪✪✪✪✪

“Uh oh.”

“Hey, welcome back, sunshine!” a gentle pair of fingers stroke back the hair that had drifted into your face as you dozed.

“Sorry for falling asleep. Again,” trying to finesse your way through the heat flaming your cheeks, you offer an awkward grin towards your chuckling pillow, “Guess we’d better start getting things finished as we’ve only got a couple of hours until everyone arrives.

“Oh, don’t give me that look, Marcus! I don’t want to move either but this curry won’t finish cooking itself.”

“Spit spot, there’s work to be done,” Marcus trills as he adopts his best attempt at a British accent.

“What the fuck was that? Did you just turn into Dick Van Dyke or something?” You tease mercilessly at the appalling sound coming from those lips, choking back laughter at his mock offended face.

“C’mon, you’re right. We’d better get moving,” Marcus stands with a stretch and a creak before reaching back to tug you to your feet.

Back under the glowing lights of Marcus’ kitchen, his presence is now constantly close to yours as you glide together around the space - stirring, chopping and checking. Every time he passes, above the general aroma of cumin and coriander, the onions and garlic, you can smell the cedar and amber upon his skin- a deliciously masculine scent that only seeks to entangle your senses further.

“Here, try this,” you hold out a heaped teaspoon of mince curry to Marcus, “This is the keema - I promise that I only put in the two chillies you chopped for me, this time.”

“Mmm, that’s so good,” he says thickly between chews, stealing the spoon from you as he dives in for a second, third, fourth spoonful.

“Hahaha! Leave some for the others- and you need to try it with some raita and fried onions too,” you check through your dog-eared, yellowed and slightly sticky recipe book that your mum had handed you the day you’d left home at eighteen - a memo of all the times you had cooked them together.

“Shit, I’d better start the chicken,” going through the spices in front of you, you search for the cardamoms that would make the butter chicken sing, “Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck!”

Marcus’ head snaps up from the green beans he was preparing towards you, “What’s up, sweetheart?”

“I can’t find the cardamoms for the butter chicken - gah I knew I’d fuck this up!” you cry, scraping your trembling hands through your hair, eyes flashing around the room wildly as your cortisol rises, making you want to run and scream at your failure to feed your friends.

“Whoa - where’s this coming from? C’mon, look at me. Look at me, Nush,” Marcus has his hands on either side of your shoulders, squeezing them gently, “There’s enough here to feed our whole office for the week with the daals you prepared yesterday, the vegetables we’re about to make and the meats that we’ve cooked up already here. Andy is bringing all the rice and naan, Kiri is bringing beers and Dian is on gin and tonic duty. You have done more than enough and I will not allow you to get this upset over one missing ingredient especially when there is a small store downstairs that I’m sure will have it, if we cannot find it after we look for it together.”

After seeing your numb nod as an agreement, Marcus moves his hands to the side of your head to focus your gaze on him rather than the panic seeping through you. As he strokes his thumbs across your cheeks, you allow your eyes to close and your breathing to regain a normal pattern.

“I’m sorry.”

“Why are you apologising?” Marcus searches your now open eyes.

“My reactions are ridiculous. Most people tell me to stop being so stupid and that just whips the storm inside my head even more,” you whisper, “But you. You know how to slow everything down and stop the spinning.”

The corner of Marcus’ mouth twitches, “D’ya wanna know a secret?” You nod at him, “As you know, I was married before. When it ended, I totally spiralled. The world kept spinning too fast and I experienced constant anxiety, very nearly burning out of my role.

“I was lucky. My boss was understanding but made me promise to get some support. He knew of someone mental health trained within the FBI who was there for mainly hostage negotiations - not part of the true psych team but someone who could help without it turning up on your record.

“Kwame worked with me for almost a year - pretty much to the point my decree absolute came through. Our sessions were done on a track - by running with me, he was teaching me the skills I needed to control my fears. By my feet hitting the tarmac, he was grounding me. By going over running techniques, he was teaching me how to control my breathing- taking longer and deeper breaths. And running is just repetition. A mindful repetition that allows your brain to have a bit of a break.

“So when I see you start to spiral, I try to give you the same steps he taught me. Get you grounded, opposite me so you copy my breathing and hope that gets you on the right track.”

“Thank you,” you drop your head forwards, relaxing onto his chest. He feels so - safe.

“You don’t need to thank me. Well, okay maybe you do as look what I’ve just spotted,” Marcus holds the offending spice aloft.

“Oh my god, I could fucking kiss you. You have just saved the curry,” you dramatically declare, clutching the cardamom jar to your heart before placing it next to the other ingredients on the counter.

“Go on then.”

What?

His comment makes you snap your head over to catch Marcus’ tremulous gaze, his eyes darting between the floor and your lips. He takes a small step, closing the small distance between the two of you, threading his fingers between yours. Each slow movement offers an unspoken opportunity for you to step away. To tease him and move on with the day.

But why on Earth would you?

With your heart racing faster and faster, you lure him ever closer with your eyes, soft but absolute in their conviction of what was about to pass between you. A small part of you understands that when you kiss him, something will change forever. That within his lips you may find the place to call home - the aching in your stomach may cease and life could start to make sense again. The anxieties of the week washing away, the pain of your collective pasts and the hint of a brighter, happier future before you.

When he doesn’t move again, you seize the moment. Pushing up onto your socked tiptoes, you tilt your chin, inclining your face until your lips come to rest upon his in the sweetest, chastest kiss. Drawing back slightly to check that Marcus is okay with a raise of your eyebrows and widened eyes, he holds your gaze steadily, similarly stunned - a mirror of each other with racing hearts and slightly parted lips. It’s like in that moment everything around you ceases to exist as anything other than extraneous nonsense - all the noise inside your head silenced by that one touch.

A small dumbstruck smile creeps across Marcus’ lips before he lowers his head to press another gentle kiss upon you. Then another. Then another. Each press of your lips a little longer. A little deeper. Your lips part to allow his tongue entry as every single thought is quietened by the taste of him. Dropping hands for his to cradle your face and yours to thread through his hair as your bodies press together tightly.

Oh the taste of him is utterly exquisite! From where you’ve been using him as chief curry taster, there’s an element of spices with the tiniest hint of mint. And how you have missed having that beautifully solid warmth of his body next to yours. Inhaling his breaths that fall upon you, your hearts match each other’s rhythms as your lips explore each other, every sensation drawing together to create a humming ball of energy, like you are standing at the point where lightning strikes the Earth.

✪✪✪✪✪

Hands fisted tightly in each other’s clothing - both stuck in the quandary of wanting to tear the fabric from your bodies but also frightened of pushing the other too far. Finally pulling apart, you gaze upon Marcus - all lust blown pupils and dopey smiles. Your foreheads come back to rest against each other, unable to quite let go just yet, not wanting to break the spell and return to reality.

“I have wanted to kiss you since perhaps the first time I met you,” Marcus murmurs as his lips gently ghost over your cheeks, “Maybe even from seeing the photo in your file when Andy drove me here from the airport.”

“Was the person, me?” You quietly ask, finally with the confidence to finish that conversation, “The reason you didn’t kiss or sleep with the goddess?”

He drops his eyes as he gives you a small nod, “Normally, I’d have just asked you out but I was scared of fucking up. It’s been a long time since I felt a spark with anyone.

“You’ve entered my life in this whirlwind of intelligence, beauty and tenderness - I didn’t want to frighten you or make you feel uncomfortable if you didn’t reciprocate.”

A thousand thoughts flood your mind as Marcus says those words. All at once, you want to tell him how safe he makes you feel. How much now that you’ve started kissing him, you never want to stop. How the cruel critics of slumber, silence themselves when you feel his heartbeat against your cheek.

Instead you stand there, silent.

Trying to stroke out the creases you’ve created in his t-shirt as you attempt to find words to put into a logical order, you notice his face twitching when the material under your fingers makes contact with his sides, “Oh Marcus, are you ticklish?”

“Um, no,” Marcus tries to deny breezily as he takes a small, hesitant step back from you, pretending to steady himself.

Making a small movement towards him, your hands at the same level as the point of the bunched fabric - you ask, “Are you sure about that?”

“Yeah,” Marcus is now eyeing you suspiciously - desperate to kiss you again but also a little worried as to what havoc your fingers might reek.

“Then, why are you moving away from me?”

“No reason…” his usually deep voice now a little tighter and higher, “Nush… What are you about to ARGH!”

His knees crumble beneath him as you attack his sensitive sides, “Gah! Quit it, woman,” he weakly commands between wheezes and hoots of laughter.

Taking full advantage of Marcus’ prone and vulnerable position, you take the opportunity to straddle him - effectively pinning him to the floor, “This is how you pin someone.”

“I let you pin me,” Marcus corrects you with a wink.

“Oh really?” you contest, entirely unconvinced by his bravado.

“Yeah,” he says with a small wiggle, bringing his hands to the back of your head, “Cos y’see, I can flip our positions quite easily.”

Suddenly, you find yourself flat on your back in Marcus’ kitchen with zero air in your lungs to form any sensible thought other than to kiss him hard. His large hands cradle your head as he props himself gently above you on his elbows. You feel his entire body covering yours. Deliciously pressing against every single inch of you and oh how it takes every bit of the minutismal amount of self control you have to not beg him to fuck you senseless into that floor.

✪✪✪✪✪

“Shit, is that your door?”

“Fuck,” Marcus pushes himself up to kneeling between your legs, “Can we pretend we’re not in?”

The harsh realisation of an evening with your colleagues, albeit lovely people, sinks in to you both.

“Nope,” you groan, popping the p with a deflated gusto, “Hang on, don’t buzz them up until I’ve tucked my boobs back into my bra.”

“I dunno, makes for easier access,” Marcus lopsidedly grins with a wink as he heads for the door.

“You certainly didn’t seem to make hard work of it earlier,” you mumble at him, before you affix a smile to your face, “Hey! How are you all doing?”

A sea of never ending hugs envelopes and separates you from Marcus as everyone piles into his apartment. The stupid grin still firmly in place on your face since you’d first kissed, you find that every time you look over at him, he’s gazing right back, mirroring that lovestruck smile.

“Oh my god, it all smells so amazing,” Dian waxes lyrical, squeezing you tightly as she inhales a lungful of exotically scented air, “What’ve we got?”

You take her by the hand into the kitchen to show all the different things you had bubbling away. Andy ducks into the kitchen behind you, laden with bags filled with pilau rice, naan and chapatis, and a beautiful small bunch of spring flowers in his other hand - tiny tête-à-tête daffodils with multiple heads along each stalk, brilliant yellow and red tulips standing like soldiers and the otherworldly looking stems of hyacinth, wickedly scenting the air under your nose as he thrusts them under there.

“Hey pretty girl, here’s all the bits you asked for. You deserve a much bigger bunch for what I’ve roped you into but I know you love the early blooms,” he offers by way of apology, sticking a kiss to the side of your forehead, “Smells fucking good though as ever. Hope you don’t mind but I’ve brought a box to take some home for Greg - he was a jealous arse this evening so I suppose I should share.”

“You know the way I cook, enough for several small armies,” you wonkily grin at him, truly thankful for the part he’d had to play, “‘Fraid there’s no easy way to say this and you will have to be the one to break it to Greg, but there’s no butter chicken tonight.”

“You’d better have a damn good excuse for this slatternly behaviour, madam,” Andy gives you a serious side eye for this infraction.

“Well…”

“Initially Nush couldn’t find the cardamoms but then we ran out of time. Plenty of food here, though,” Marcus answers for you, his hand gently holding your hip as he reaches around you to grab a couple of beers from the fridge.

You see Andy catch Marcus’ hand lightly stroking your side as he walks back to Kiritopa, but are entirely grateful when his expression and mouth say nothing. The light chatter in the kitchen, whilst Dian dips a teaspoon into all the pots, is interrupted by a small knock at the door. Sticking your head around the kitchen door, you spot Marcus opening the door to a nervous-looking Harper. Andy sidles past you, to pull her into the main room, rather than her previous position of standing on the doorstep, utterly awkward and obviously feeling quite out of place.

“Hi, I hope you don’t mind me coming. I know I wasn’t there Friday but I don’t really do large crowds and drinking.”

You walk over to her amidst the chorus of “not to worry”s and “lovely to see you”s, “Fancy something to drink now? Got plenty of soft options and I think I’ll stick alongside you as I’ve got to make sure I don’t burn stuff.”

“Including yourself, this time,” Harper retorts quickly with a small smile and a raise of her eyebrows.

“Hah, chance’d be a fine thing,” Andy laughs, slapping your shoulder before turning back to clink bottles and talk with Kiri and Marcus.

✪✪✪✪✪

Through the full length doors of Marcus’ balcony, evening spring sunshine streams through, bathing the group of your co-workers in a gentle, diffused light that flows around the room coating you in a golden glow. You all eat your fill and then some, with full tummies and tired eyes - the kitchen still full of half eaten dishes.

“Can we make this a weekly thing?” Kiritopa asks through a mouthful of food, hopefully.

“Not unless we take it in turns or get a take away - I don’t have the physical or emotional energy to make this level of curry every weekend,” you pointedly remark, looking up from your coke to meet Marcus’ eyes.

You’ve spent the evening barely speaking to each other for fear of alerting the others but surreptitiously brushing past so that you can sneak touches. Tender hidden strokes that feel like the kindest stitches on hidden, gaping wounds.

Marcus stands up to help usher the evening to an end and get you to himself again, “I have some boxes for y’all to take food home as otherwise, I’ll be eating this for weeks - delicious as it is.”

Everyone thankfully takes their boss’ hint and head into the kitchen to grab platefuls to reheat after long days. Slowly saying their goodbyes, your friends drift off in the direction of their homes as you throw yourself in an exhausted heap of bones on his sofa. Two strong hands grip you under your arms, to drape your torso across his lap.

“Hey tired girl,” you slightly open your eyes to spy a smiling Marcus gazing down at you. His fingers draw lazy patterns over the sensitive skin of your neck.

“I’d like to take you on a proper date this week. Wanna do this properly. Make a bit of a fuss.”

“Yeah? Not just pin me down and ravish me on the kitchen floor?” you grin widely at him.

“Well, I’d hardly call that a ravishing…” your eyes widen, eyebrows raising at Marcus’ comment, excitement pooling in your tummy, “Yeah, I saw there’s an Argentinian restaurant in Blackheath so how about steak, Malbec and homemade ice cream before I bring you back to either yours, or mine, for another, even better ravishing?”

“That sounds amazing, although with the amount of food in my belly, I may never have to eat again,” you give your stomach a rub, “But the ravishing…”

Hauling you up to sitting across his lap, you protest loudly, “I am going to crush your legs.”

“Stop making ridiculous comments and c’mere,” Marcus demands as he gently turns your head towards him, stealing a delicate kiss from you.

“I...should… - argh! Stop kissing me for a second,” you beg halfheartedly, “I should go home.”

“Stay.”

“Please stay,” Marcus desperately entreats you, “I’m not expecting anything but I’d love it if you stayed. I know you’ve got nothing here but give me two minutes and I can have a spare toothbrush for you. I’ll drop you home early tomorrow morning so you can grab some clothes and then we can go into work together?”

It feels as though the wind is knocked out of your lungs with the depth of Marcus’ need to be around you.

How does he do it?

“There’s no games with you, are there?” you twist in Marcus’ lap so that you now straddle his thighs, placing your hands on either side of his ridiculously handsome face.

“No,” he shakes head slowly, all the while holding eye contact with you, “I’m too old and I know what I want.”

“What’s that?”

Stroking his hands up and down your sides as he nuzzles your neck, he clearly and confidently declares,

“You.”

Tag list of glory (as ever, please ask to be put on or dropped from the list): @astroboots @silverwolf319@sirowsky @leonieb @disgruntledspacedad @bison-writes @the-ginger-hedge-witch @danniburgh @sugarontherims @green-socks @tardisfangurl @absurdthirst @pedropascalito-deactivated20210 @mouthymandalorian @mrsparknuts @zukoyonce @agirllovespancakes @yespolkadotkitty @lunaserenade @theravenreads @lv7867 @songsformonkeys

[dilfsenshi]

hi. im going to give you my pasta tomato sauce resippy, ok?

youll need a liquidiser of some kind for this. a stick blender is the best for this, and if you dont have one and can afford one i thoroughly recommend it, def my fav kitchen appliance lol.

this is a great recipe that i make all the time. it makes a huge amount of sauce that you can then freeze and defrost whenever you dont want to cook. ive persuaded myself its very cost effective vs jars of sauce, but ive never actually sat down and done the maths to verify it lol. its def reasonably cheap though, its all veggies! this sauce always comes out a little different every time, which i quite enjoy :)

heres the ingredients list

1kg of tomatoes

2-3 medium carrots

1-2 sticks of celery

1 large onion (red onion is delicious on this, but brown is good too)

2 peppers (red + another is best but it doesnt matter too much)

garlic. i wont tell you how much you should use, i trust you. i tend to go for 5-6 cloves though

OPTIONAL chilli. i usually have a spare birdseye lying around

OPTIONAL mushrooms

OPTIONAL tomato paste/pure, if u live in a country where tomatoes are a bit flavourless (like the uk 🤕)

herbs and spices of your choice. recommended: oregano, paprika, chilli powder (if no fresh), mixed herbs, fresh basil

ok! you can make more sauce really easily by just adding more veg. i often use more than a kilo of tomatoes, its really not a precision recipe. its is technically very easy, it just requires a lot of veg chopping. it will take anywhere between 40 mins to an hour and a bit, depending on how fast you chop.

get a BIG pot and put it on low heat. chop your tomatoes into quarters w a serrated knife and put them in your pot. the idea is these will eventually break down. you may need to squeeze them down a bit with a wooden spoon. you dont need to wait for them to do so completely, just until theres enough liquid for your keep your other veg from burning

chop your onions and garlic and add them to the pot. youll want to do this with all your veg believe it or not.

the order i generally go in is onion+garlic > fresh chilli > carrot > pepper > celery. just roughly chopped is fine, just so long as it cooks! dont put the mushrooms in right now, the texture will be unpleasant.

once everythings in, youll need to add 1 1/2 tsp of sugar. this step is important, dont be tempted to skip it. itll cut down the acidity of the sauce and make it edible lol

it all needs to cook for about 15 minutes. if youre me, youll spend this time cracking open a beer and doing the dishes youve been ignoring all day.

once youre done with the dishes, your sauce will be ready for mushrooms and seasoning. you can add more herbs and spices later once youve blended your sauce, so dont go overboard. add the purée at this point, if using.

cook for another 10-15 mins, until your veggies are soft, then blend!

once its smooth, adjust seasoning and purée to taste and then add 1/2 tbsp of oil. i dont know what this step does but my mummy tells me to do it and i listen to her. keep your heat very low, as your sauce will spit a bit at this stage. cook for another 2-3 mins, and youre done!

i hope you enjoy my resippy and if you dont pls dont tell me ill get sad

[lyrishadow]

Fictober 3:

Prompt 3: “I’ve waited for this.” Fandom: Mass Effect. Title: Until The Date (in the end of it all) Pairing: Sarah Ryder / Kaidan Alenko Rating: m Warnings/Tags: Fluff (purely sickly sweetly)

Kaidan Alenko stood at the kitchen door waiting for Sarah Ryder to walk down the hall of the Tempest; it had been a long journey but having finally beaten the Archon, and taken Meridian. Having finally recovered from the fight, they would be getting their promised date.

"I've waited for this."

"Oh?" Sarah Ryder paused at the closed door to her room as Kaidan Alenko grinned at her. "I'm sorry it took so long."

"Well, death-defying, galaxy saving stunts come first you know." His reply was accompanied by a quirk of an eyebrow "though, I'd not mind if you did less of the death part."

"Noted." She sighed, his arm circling her waist.

"Now, close your eyes." He pushed the access button and guided her inside.

"SAM can you make sure we aren't interrupted for a few hours please?"

"Certainly. Please use the code to let me know when you are available again. Have a lovely evening Pathfinder."

“Thanks, SAM!” Sarah replied.

“Ok, keep your eyes closed,” Kaidan murmured guiding her over past where she thought there ought to have been books and such on the floor.

“You cleaned up in here?”

“Heh, just a little,” Kaidan replied, “I did have a little help setting this up.”

“Can I open my eyes?”

“Now.” Sarah blinked, Kaidan had moved her to the foot of the bed facing towards the room, her giant Blasto was sitting happily on the sofa which was pushed to one end in front of SAM’s hub. Yet in the middle of the room sat a table with candles and a white table cloth, food covered with another colored cloth and a single red rose.

“Kaidan!” she gasped turning to him with a smile “You did all this?” “You know I’d do anything for you? I did have help like I said, Cora found a source for the rose. Jaal helped me with a lot of the food. Liam helped moved furniture - find the furniture actually. I have a few more surprises.” Kaidan’s hand traced her face as he said that his brown eyes meeting her blue ones “but food first.”

“What are we eating? I can’t smell anything?” Sarah asked clearly confused, as Kaidan pulled her chair out and bowed.

“My lady your chair.” He grinned as he lifted a colorful cloth and placed it on her lap.” your napkin. “ Under the cloth on the table was a cleverly sealed selection of foodstuffs.

“Is that steak and mushroom?” Sarah gasped.

“I had mentioned once to Jaal I missed steak from Canada so he went out of his way to find some for me.” Kaidan and Jaal had become good friends since the Angaran had joined the crew. “I wasn’t expecting it, but he was too excited about it to keep it a secret.”

“I see, that is why he was avoiding me?” Sarah laughed.

“Yeah, got to admire him, he wears his heart on his sleeve but he can’t keep some things secret.” Kaidan laughed.”Look at this - fresh greens from Cora’s lab, fruit, and veg from Eos.”

“You did all of this.” Sarah shook her head “When we met, you didn’t even know if you wanted to risk coming here.”

“Well actually” Kaidan blushed “As soon as I saw you, I knew.”

“Kaidan Alenko, are you blushing?”

“Heh, probably.” he chuckled as he served the food and they ate together talking and laughing over the six months or so that had passed in Andromeda.

“Wow, that was good food!”Sarah grinned.

“Good. There is more though.” Kaidan stood and began to clear the table with a cheeky grin. He retrieved a cake from a box on the counter and bought it to the table.

“Sarah?”

“Oh my god… “ Sarah began to laugh. “May I take a photo?”

“Of course.” Kaidan grinned as the Blasto cake sat proudly in the middle of the table. He had worked hard to make this particular surprise. It was a reminder of how Sarah had come to mean so much to him.

It was a large cake for the two of them, but he knew that the leftovers would go to the rest of the crew. So he served a few pieces of cake and they sat talking about the fair and meeting and falling in love.

“So love at first sight huh?”

“Well, yes.” Kaidan blushed “When I first met your dad, at the restaurant. I don’t know if you remember?”

“Oh, I remember!” Sarah grinned “ I was so damn nervous, I invented a reason to leave.”

“Ah. I wish you hadn’t.” Kaidan grinned “I feel like I missed out on a few minutes with you.”

“Dad thought I would be… bait? A lure? I don’t know he wasn’t good at considering feelings.” Sarah sighed “I wish I had known him better, known what made him the way he was.”

“He was right though - and he told me to look after you and Scott.” Kaidan looked down “in case anything happened.”

“You were his second… it made sense,” Sarah suggested but Kaidan shook his head.

“More than that, he was worried about you.” Kaidan looked at Sarah and sighed “I was not sure why he would say that, but I had an irreversible crush on you. So I agreed.”

“Oh, I see.” Sarah shook her head grinning at Kaidan “You know I have had a crush on you since I was in boot camp and you led the biotic training specialist camp.”

“I remember that.” Kaidan nodded “It was meant to be some kind of reward for being promoted. However, it was just more work.”

“Alliance in a nutshell.” Sarah agreed,

“Do you mind if I change the topic and we move to the sofa?” Kaidan asked.”Let me just pass the cake to the masses.”

Clearing the table of the remains of the cake Kaidan unlocked the door and handed it to Scott who was waiting to receive it on the other side. Scott gave him a thumbs up and wave before taking the cake silently and leaving. Kaidan shook his head and closed and locked the door again.

“Your brother is a nut.”

“There is no truer statement,” Sarah replied with a laugh, she sat down next to Blasto, her legs folded underneath her.

Kaidan ran a hand down his pocket to check for the ring box which was still there. It had been a challenge to find an engagement ring but once people found out what he wanted and why they had pooled their knowledge and he was able to produce a very unique, special to Sarah ring. That had been the easy part he now realized.

“Kaidan, are you okay?” Sarah asked concerned.

“Uh yeah. I’m fine.” He exhaled his breath and inhaled calming his nerves as he turned back towards her. She sat with her blasto in her arms.

“Sarah, I can’t imagine spending time apart from you… I don’t want to ever again and..”

“Then let’s get married,” she said her head on an angle, a spark of mischief in her eye.

“Uh…. you could let me ask you.” Kaidan laughed “I was trying.”

“You were killing yourself with nerves. But Kaidan…” she held out her hand and he walked over to her. “You don’t need. to be like that with me you know.”

“Yeah, I know.” He kissed her “So Sarah Hope Ryder will you marry me?”

“ Yes,” she whispered as she kissed him again. He smirked as he pulled out a ring her eyes went wide.

“How did you… oh.” The ring had a stone for every outpost she had helped establish and was made of a metal that Jaal had assured him would last longer than any of them would be alive.

“ With a lot of help. It’s special, just like you are. It’s the Pathfinders engagement ring.” he explained the meaning and kissed her again.

“Kaidan.” she had tears in her eyes “You know I didn’t think I could do this, and I was right - there was no way I could do this alone. I had you, from the beginning I had you. I am so glad I will have you going forward too. " X