#chili oil tag

[blastburnt]

i will not burn you this time

[vividbeast]

bekfast babey

[1o1percentmilk]

i think that i should have a government-assigned boyfriend or girlfriend of some sort to chew on when i get really agitated like this

[mildmayfoxe]

toasts again

[yombleflobber-mobile-emporium]

Why is Everything on Wednesday, My Dudes?

Back when I was in college the first time/hanging around College Christian Parachurch Ministries looking for a wife, we always had things going on on Wednesdays. I think I missed the "Hump Day" phenomenon by a narrow margin — I have never had the pleasure of working an office job, all the jobs I worked seemed to have some degree of Wednesday-is-not-the-middle-of-the-week, and the only time I actually understood what the term meant was when I saw that Geico commercial that people liked for whatever reason — and went straight for

Thank you, David, for instilling a love for this meme. And railroad history. Even if the news killed the meme.

I think even before college-y times pretty much any organization I have been a part of has had some Special Wednesday Times like Youth Group (I do not remember what the quirky name was for Wednesday Night Youth Group. I know one of the things was X-Plore, and I think one was Plunge, but I don't recall what was what), and college ministry is basically grown-up Youth Group.

I'm not complaining about Wednesday, but I do want to make a note that even though my current job doesn't even have a decent schedule, I still meet up with people on Wednesdays for fun. It's a magical day.

On this particular Wednesday, I am feeling better than a lot of them. This is despite the fact that a bit ago, I ate a delicious sandwich and got pepper oil on my eye. It was worth it. The sandwich was messy, but boy was it nice; the pepper oil was a great inclusion, even if it did cause me pain. I went out and worked in the garden twice, and it was not an absolute pain (figuratively — my back is killing me, and has been for awhile). The first garden experience was with a family in our community, and I somehow got saddled with planting somewhere around 20 hostas in their yard. I learned that I actually don't hate landscaping — I hate sunlight. That's really all there is to it; I've never forgiven the sun for giving me sunstroke when I was ten or so.

Speaking of Youth Groups, I have beef with all of that stuff. My experience — and I am certain I am not alone in this — was that I went to Youth Group events, was part of Youth Group for junior and senior high, then...nothing.

I struggled for years in the church that housed the Youth Group, and never felt like I was part of the actual church (some of that, I'm sure, came from never becoming a member there). The only time I returned to feeling like I was part of a community was when I started going to a Parachurch College Ministry for a couple years. I wasn't in college, but that seemed to be the only place I could hang out with people my age. There was nothing like Youth Group for college-aged folk at the actual church; I could join a morning class, but those just felt like a throwaway, "If you want to, I suppose" group.

So, uh, yeah. I don't like Youth Groups. I've gone to them in some form or another, and the only one I felt was actually helpful was the one that emphasized that if you actually wanted to be a part of the church, you should be a church member — not just go to the Youth Group.

Anyway. That's enough about that for now.

You'll see me next time, my pretty, if it's the last thing I dooby-doooo!

[writedisaster]

Happy birthdaaaaay omg I hope you find 20 currency units in ur pocket and eat something yummy for dinner ♡♡

        MWAH...  don’t worry, anon, i have extremely yummy dinner plans.  thank you so much for the kind wishes, and i hope you have a great day too!

[xinamie]

🥟 — dumplings & dimples.

pairing: kung lao x gn! reader

summary: owning a food cart has its fun days, especially when that cute customer comes by. ♡

tags: flirting, fluff

The dumpling dealer — that's what younger customers called you. Apparently, they even spread that title amongst their peers which is why you had swarms of them waiting in line almost every other day. Xiao long bao, or soup dumplings, were the most popular! There was no secret recipe or ingredient though, you just made them with time, patience, and lots of care.

Someone seemed to disagree, however, wanting to know all your secrets. You could see the wide brim of his hat at the end of the line, most likely praying to that one benevolent lord he talked about. There was nothing to worry for as you always kept his favorite dumplings in stock. It was tradition at this point.

When he finally reached you, a grin stretched across his face as he ducked his head under the cover of your cart. His eyes immediately darted across all the steamer baskets before they settled on you, the corners crinkling in glee.

"Well, if it isn't my baobei..." He would joke every single time, the term of endearment being a play on words for the items on your menu. And without fail, he would receive an eye roll followed by that smile he grew to adore so very much.

No other words were necessary as you packed up his usual order, but of course it wasn't quiet for long.

"Don't forget the extra ch—"

"Chili oil on the side, yes, I know."

His lips curled into a satisfied expression as you poured the delicious spice into a little bag. As you twisted the plastic to secure the juice, Kung Lao couldn't help but speak up again. One of his arms leaned onto your cart, though he kept a respectable distance while you worked.

"Ready to spill your secret? Madam Bo said you told her, so why not me?"

There really was nothing special about your cooking, but the man could be pretty adamant at times. For him to keep coming to this same stall, there had to be a reason why and you just assumed it was for recipe leeching. At least, that's what he made it seem on most visits. Handing him his prepared meal, you shot him a look that he was familiar with.

"Fine, how about a date then?"

That was— certainly new. He held the bags with one hand while the other placed more than enough funds to cover his order into your money jar. A steaming hot bao was already in his mouth as he raised a brow, waiting for your answer.

"You're joking, right?"

A muffled noise escaped him, vaguely hearing a nuh uh in the middle of his snack. He then swallowed the dumpling properly, leaning forward to tap the tip of his finger against the visor you wore for food safety. A huff escaped you as you leaned back, trying to understand his motives here. All you received was a chuckle, the low tone rumbling from his chest and feeling as if it entered yours.

"Your time wouldn't be wasted, you know. Give me a chance." His words were buffed by his own secret weapon, those damned dimples, on full display just for you. It was one of his features that had always attracted you and by the look on his smug face, he knew it too.

A much more boisterous laugh came out of the man as he swiveled around, waving a dumpling in the air.

"The main fountains, tomorrow evening. Say... seven? See you then!"

He left without confirmation, a heavy sigh parting your lips as you watched his back. There wasn't much time to think about it as more customers demanded your attention.

If anyone asked, it was all the steam and pan frying that got you all heated!

☆

a/n: omfg i thought tumblr deleted my draft and i almost cried but hiii first fic! sorry if it's lame jfjeirkekdb

[shatterthefragments]

Tag Game!

Tagged by @bedalk thank you!! 😁

Last Song I listened to: Nazareth Sleep Token ✨ (and all say and right now also 😘)

Currently Watching: …I usually don’t tbh. I suppose I last watched Monkey Man and Everything Everywhere All At Once. The last show I watched was Black Sails last year. And currently I guess I’m watching short video clips of concerts :)

Sweet/Savoury/Spicy?: all? All! Currently leaning towards savoury I guess?? But also would [redacted] to try a lemon eclair from a special bakery nearish 👀 and god I want to make wonton with chili oil too. (I do not have any wonton in the freezer :()

Relationship Status: I love my friends so much!!! (No romantic relationship(s) to speak of and constantly debating if I’m actually ready for the horrifying ordeal of dating and *trusting* another person like that or actually finishing setting up my profile to actually meet someone.)

Current Obsession: sleep token, ghost’s ghouls, my heat bags, mushrooms, mermaids for MERMAY!!!!!

Tagging: @branches-in-a-flood @bubacorn @xticklemeemox @undekaying @ongreenergrasses @regent-of-rarepairs @eepymonstrr and anyone else who wants to. 😘

[spidey-bie]

Guess who unwillingly read a smut work again? Yay 😑. (It was the first thing I saw when I first woke up. I started this at 7 am yesterday morning.) I will admit that it was kinda on me this time for not having the Miguel smut tag blocked but there was nothing that could've led me to believe that it'd be smut in the first place so my point still stands. Label your smut works.

TW: More pet names and nicknames. (I am a romantic aromantic I'm so sorry 😔) This is a loose continuation of the previous one.

You were awaken, unfortunately, by the jarring sounds of your morning alarm. You groggily look over to surprised to see your beloved s/o Hobie Brown still dozing away. Usually he'd sleep in his own room but you both had decided to have a sleepover the night before. At least this meant that you didn't have to make a trip to go and wake him.

"Bie." You shake him lightly. You only get a groan. "C'mon Bie you gotta get up."

"Just five more minutes." You thought about taking him up on his offer but, history has shown that this only led to you both sleeping in till noon. You had plans for the day and they required the both of you to be up at 8. Unfortunately Hobie had no plans on budging. Usually you'd gently ease him awake but time was ticking away. You had to take a more direct approach.

Begrudgingly you leave the comforts of your warm bed and head towards a window. If you weren't awake before the cold air had woken you up now. You open the curtains to let the sunlight pour in and wrestle the covers from his arms. (At least you knew that if a criminal attacked in the early morning Hobie would be fine. Unfortunately your blanket was not.)

"UGGGGGGH." He groaned as he tried to shield his eyes with his hand.

"Nope. I can't leave you here. You'd never get up before one if not for me."

Hobie grumbled something about time being a concept and moved his hand away.

"Bug must you torture me like this?"

You give him a tired giggle.

"I'm sorry Bie but it was the only way."

He sits up and yawns. This was a good sign. Hopefully he'd soon make his way to the bathroom to get ready for the day. Hopefully.

"I'm gonna get started on breakfast. Please at least be out of bed before I get back." You wait for his reply.

He wipes the sleep from his eyes and nods. You head to the kitchen.

You pop a couple frozen beignets in the oven and throw the rice that you prewashed into a pot. By the time the rice had finished Hobie had emerged from the bathroom much more chipper than before.

"The bathroom's all yours." He gives you a wink.

"I leave the rest to you sir." You give him a mock salute and he rolls his eyes. Quickly you make your way to the bathroom.

****************************************************

You turn the water on and throw on a clear shower cap over your neon purple bonnet. You take note of Hobie's matching neon pink one laying on the vanity. He hated it when you first bought it for him. Yet, without fail he wire it every night. Whenever you offered to buy him another he refused absolutely offended that you even offered in the first place.

"Pink is punk. You think I'm getting rid of it now?Come off it." You chuckled at the memory.

After your shower you finish getting ready for the day. The final task that you had left was your hair. You applied a light oil to your hands and got to work. You had to unravel all of the twists that Hobie had done only a couple days before. After you finished you look yourself over in the mirror, make some final adjustments, pop on your black ring, and head out.

Immediately you are met with the smells of onion, chilis, and various spices. Hobie must've made that one dish again. When you arrived in the dining room you had found that you were right. Alongside the rice and beignets you made you find a mock ackee and saltfish that he makes with eggs, as well as bacon on your plate. You mentally cheer and sit down. Hobie smiles.

"I've been waiting ages for you to get out. Almost checked to see if you were alright."

You scoff and roll your eyes. "Bie, hush."

Grabbing your fork you dig into your plate. The first bite in and a whirlwind of delicious flavors hit your taste buds. You set your fork down and stare at him. A few years ago you couldn't ever imagine something like this. A familiar warmth and a shared meal with someone who cared for you.

"Bug, is something wrong?" He looked at you worriedly. "The food's good init?"

You nodded and smiled.

"Yeah." You pick back up your fork. "It's absolutely delicious."

A/N: Was this rushed? Most definitely. Do I have any regrets? No. I love this sm and if you don't go kick rocks (this is a joke).

I debated on whether I'd do shared rooms or separate but it is what it is. I stole the bonnet hc from @/murdrdocs.

Fun fact a black ring on your middle finger is supposed to be a subtle sign for asexuality if you didn't know. (I have a black and a white one.) Also i'm Creole not Jamaican so forgive me if I got something wrong here. Finally, beignets are heavenly and I'd eat them all day if not for my gluten intolerance.

[blastburnt]

finally wrote down the most epic chili oil... i will be making it again soon 😏

[liminalmemories21]

WIP Wednesday

tagged by @strandnreyes, @paperstorm, @im-overstimulated-and-im-sad, @heartstringsduet, @redshirt2, @bonheur-cafe, @orchidscript, @lemonlyman-dotcom, @three-drink-amy, and @kiwichaeng. Thank you.

I've enjoyed this Valentine's Day spiciness we've had going on today, so let me add some more. Random note in the margin of my draft is . . . anyway I can make this about Valentine's Day (answer - tbd, have to look at my timeline).

He's been craving Thai food all day, and wondering if he can talk TK into ordering tonight instead of cooking, marshaling his arguments in the elevator, and proactively caving on asking for them to make it spicy.  He can always add chili oil if he wants.  He’s halfway through, “Hey baby, wanna order in tonight,” when he sees TK.  Empirically TK isn’t doing anything particularly seductive.  He’s got his head bent while he fastens his watch.  But, he's wearing black jeans.  The ones that cling to his thighs and ass.  The ones that hug everything.  The ones that he wears when he wants to derail Carlos's entire train of thought. 

He stops, hand on the door, staring.  TK looks up at the sound.  "Hey baby."

He manages to focus long enough to close the door, stepping in to TK for a kiss.  "Hey."  The fabric of TK's shirt under his hands is soft and a little clingy, the kind of fabric that makes him want to pet at it, pet TK.  "You look nice."  He looks like sex.  "Did I forget something?  An anniversary?"

TK shakes his head, leaning up to bite lightly at the corner of Carlo's jaw.  "I thought maybe we could go out tonight."

He pulls away far enough to look down at TK, and wonders if he's been broadcasting something he hadn't intended for TK to pick up.  TK bites harder at the edge of his jaw and then soothes it with a kiss, and presses something into Carlos's hand.  "Been a while since we had fun."

He frowns at TK, playing catch up.  "You've been busy."

TK nods.  "I know.  And this weekend I cleared my calendar."  He leans in to nip at Carlos's ear, and he sucks in a sharp breath.  "I've missed you."  TK slides a hand down to where Carlos is still holding whatever TK handed him and opens his palm out flat and Carlos obediently looks down to see what he's holding.

He looks up at TK sharply.  It's the remote to a vibrating plug.  The one that TK is holding in his hand.  The one they haven't had time to play with in a while.  TK kisses his way up Carlos's neck, a kiss punctuating each word.  "Every.  Good.  Boy.  Deserves.  Fun."

He smirks, turning the remote over in his hand.  "And you've been good?"

TK looks up at him from under his lashes.  "So good."  He steps in closer, nudging a thigh between Carlos's.  "I thought you could put this in me, and then we could go out.  We could make out on the dance floor, make everyone jealous.  Then," he flexes his thigh into where Carlos is already half hard, "you can take me home and fuck me."

He dips his head, curving a hand around the back of TK's neck, licking along his collar bone where it's exposed by the loose collar of the shirt. "What if I can't wait that long?  What if I want to fuck you in the club?"  TK's breath hitches sharply.  "Push you up against a wall."  He runs a hand down TK's back to his ass, and then down, following the seam and pressing hard, just to hear TK moan.  "You'll be slick and open for me, a little desperate."  He pulls back enough to see where TK's biting his lips red.  "You're already a little desperate for me."

TK breathes out.  "Officer Reyes, I'm shocked.  Are you suggesting we commit acts of public indecency?"

He tightens his grip.  "Maybe you're enough to make a good man break his leash."

TK sways into him, and makes a discontented noise when Carlos's phone buzzes loudly.   He doesn't take his eyes off TK as he digs it out of his pocket and glances at the screen.  "It's Matt.  He's parking.  He has something he needs us to look at."

tagging @jesuisici33, @carlos-in-glasses, @guardian-angle22, @herefortarlos, and @lightningboltreader

[earl-grey-teacake]

Tagged by @i-am-church-the-cat ❤️ love your work🥰

My WIP folder is under renovation and I totally forgot it was until I opened it and found my my resignation letter for my job 😂 (No my resignation letter is not included in the list)

Rules: Make a new post with the names of all the files in your WIP folder, regardless of how non-descriptive or ridiculous. Let people send you an ask with the title that most intrigues them, and then post a little snippet or tell them something about it! And then tag as many people as you have WIPs.

1. Imperial Topaz and Blue Sapphire

2. Racing Dragons- First Flight

3. To Lose You, Would be to Lose My Soul

4. First Fight

5. Logan’s Magical Paradox

6. Fluted Glass Cups, Chili Oil, and Golden Rings

7. What If My World is Becoming You?

Tagging:

I have no idea whose been tagged before. I been lacking in my interactions with other people. There are people who silently like my work and then there’s me, who is silently grateful but doesn’t know how to express it most of the time 😅

@fireessie @teneleven12xiii @my-fall-from-grace @robinschumacher @matchtaco @flyingcakeee @killerandhealerqueen

[thedivinepath888]

simple and effective self love spell ❤︎

beginner friendly!

what you'll need:

a jar

a self love sigil

a tag lock

(red or pink) pen and paper

lavender [love, happiness, peace, protection]

rose petals [love, self love, happiness]

lemon peel, juice, or seeds [purification, healing, happiness]

chamomile [love, healing, protection]

(brown) sugar [complex love healing, healing your self-image]

cloves [love, healing]

cinnamon [healing, love, protection]

honey [love, sweeten the spell]

chili [banish the negativity about yourself, protection]

olive oil [protection, healing]

substitute ingredients you don't have, with things that share the same or similar properties, or just leave them out. use what your have on hand!

what you have to do:

cleanse your space, yourself, and your tools

add all the ingredients to the jar (put honey and olive oil in last)

don't forget to pray over every ingredient, fueling it with your energy, and telling it what you want it to do

write your full name + birthday on the paper

add the paper + your tag lock in

either add the sigil into the jar now, or either glue it on the outside or draw it directly onto the jar

you can now seal it with a pink, red, or white candle, use string to twine around, or leave it like it is

[kylo-wrecked]

what does your blood taste like

🌓 the senator’s son (he melty)

melted dark chocolate: your blood tastes like melted dark chocolate. prominent flavors: mildly sweet, with a refined amount of bitterness.

🌑 the renegade knight (he fancy)

Cabernet Sauvignon: your blood tastes like cabernet sauvignon, a dry red wine. prominent flavors: dark fruits, pepper, and vanilla from oak aging.

🌘 the dice killer (he spicy)

chili oil: your blood tastes like chili oil, a vegetable oil infused with chili peppers. prominent flavors: smoky, savory, and shallots.

🌕 the drifter (he earthy)

borscht: your blood tastes like beetroot borscht, a soup served hot or cold. prominent flavors: earthy, tangy, and sweet.

he also:

tagged by:// @nightmarefuele 🍫

tagging:// @writteninscarlet, @forcenexus / @mnolith / @magikborn, @etoilebleu, @riiese, @ronmanmob, @tangleweave, @itmeanspeace, @ofthestcrs, @positivelybeastly, @protectmypeople, @silverjetsystm, @southern-belle-outcasts, @smolcuriouskitten, @smokinmirrors (ahem), @datapadz, @desireandduty, @godresembled, @hopegained, @lastxdragon, @chromium-siren, @thecreativeforge, @cxpperhead, @cardigansandearlgrey, @valkxrie, @babydxhl, @bewitchingbaker, @birkenzeisig (any), @big-d-little-i-big-n-little-ozzo / @ifyoucatchacriminal, @brooklynislandgirl, @mayxthexforce, @madxwonderland, and you!

*feel free to ignore if you’ve done this one already. wanted to update my tag list.

[scuttling]

Wonderful Tonight

Fandom: Criminal Minds Pairings: Aaron Hotchner/Gender Neutral Reader Word Count: 948 Tags: Food and wine talk, implied sex/closed door Summary: A sweet, domestic blurb based on the prompt 'no electricity.' A/N: Two uses of the word 'she', but it's a song lyric and not representative of the reader's pronouns.

“It’s late in the evening… She’s wondering what clothes to wear.” You hum along as two voices—Eric Clapton’s, and Aaron’s—warmly drift through the kitchen like the steam from the wide noodles he’s boiling on the stove. While you whisk together the ingredients for the sauce, rich, flavorful things like peanut butter and ginger and sesame oil, you sway your hips as if dancing, light and carefree.

Both of you are clad in loungewear, clothes so comfortable and worn you never let anyone see you in them but each other; his t-shirt is visibly threadbare, with a frayed neckline and a faded 10th Annual Fairfax County Charity 5k banner across the chest, and when you pass behind him to grab the soy sauce you press your lips to his shoulder just to feel its softness.

You add the soy sauce to your mixture—two kinds, dark and light, a perfect balance—along with minced garlic, and you smile when he turns to grab the colander and brushes his hand against the small of your back.

“And then she asks me, ‘Do I look all right?’ And I say, ‘Yes, you look wonderful tonight.’” The line is punctuated with a kiss on your cheek, something soft and easy, and then he drains the noodles, adds them to your bowl of sauce so you can toss everything together. The mixture turns them a pale orange, and you pour the finished product into two bowls, stick chopsticks into the mountains of the fragrant food; with a drizzle of chili oil and a sprinkle of chopped scallions, you are ready to move to the dining room, where candles and white wine and the rest of the record await you.

You’ve just set the bowls down on the table when the power goes out unceremoniously and the apartment is plunged into darkness. The record stops, the blissfully cool central air conditioning whirs to a halt, and Aaron looks over at you from between the two candlesticks with a look that just screams, it figures.

Your first date night in almost a month, due to his cases and your schedule and Jack’s boatload of summer activities, and it’s ruined in less than a second. 

“I’ll check the breaker,” he says with a sigh, and you grab a couple more candles from the sideboard drawer and take them to the living room, the bathroom, the bedroom. It becomes apparent, as you cross the apartment, that the problem isn’t the breaker; when you pass by the windows, you can see through the gauzy curtains that the whole complex is dark, streetlights included. Neighbors open their windows, probably an attempt at catching the evening breeze, and you do the same before meeting Aaron back in the dining room, where he stands with his hands on his hips. 

“It’s fine. We can eat in the candlelight; it’s romantic,” you murmur, wrapping your arms around his waist, and he moves a hand to your cheek and leans in for a kiss. You can tell he’s not thrilled about it, always hates when things don’t go according to plan, but you’ll do anything to salvage the evening, and you know he will too. “Let’s move to the living room. It’s cooler now that the windows are open.” 

He arches a brow, but picks up the candlesticks and carefully carries them in while you dust off your rusty server talents and transfer the food and wine. You sit beside each other on the sofa, not across from each other as you would have at the table, but it means you can press your elbow against his thigh, take a noodle from his chopsticks just as he tips his head back to eat it, make him laugh like he hasn’t in weeks, so it’s all worth it in the end.

You’re halfway through your bowl when you get the bright idea to take out your phone and pull up the music app, to pick up where you left off and listen to something other than the chew and slurp of Thai peanut noodles and chilly sauvignon blanc. 

The bowls—and the wine bottle—sit empty on the table, the candles burned down low by the time the album cycles back to the original song, and now when you sway along, it’s with your body snugly in Aaron’s arms. He leans in for a kiss that tastes like ginger and peanuts, one you lengthen, deepen, a hand in his hair, and it’s an unspoken signal; you separate, carry your dishes into the kitchen and then walk around the apartment, blowing out the candles as you leave each room for the night. You make your way to bed, shedding your comfortable clothes, prepared to fill the rest of the evening the best way the two of you know how. 

Some time later, as you rest your cheek against his chest and yawn, sleepy and warm from such a perfect, if unexpected evening, he smooths his hand over your throat and tilts your chin to press a sweet, passionate kiss to your lips. 

He says all he needs to with that one kiss, but you curl your arms around him and smile against him as you ask for just one more. He looks so handsome in the flickering light of the candles, all dark, smoldering eyes and bare skin and striking features, and you let your kisses carry you away. 

By the time you close your eyes, pleasantly satisfied and ready to sleep, the evening’s soundtrack is the last thing on your mind, but as Aaron blows out the final candle and presses himself against your back, he whispers softly in your ear:

“Oh, my darling, you were wonderful tonight.”

Taglist: @arsonhotchner @mrsh0tchner @ssahotchie @sleepyreaderreads @mintphoenix @meghannnn @disgruntledchowchow @azenpal @g-l-pierce @my-rosegold-soul @ssamorganhotchner @heliotropehotch @angelhotchner @qtip-blog @gspenc @wishuhadstayed @averyhotchner @dadbodhotch11 @itsmytimetoodream @unicornprancing @thinking-bucky @mugi-chwan95 @madamsnape921 @hxtchncr @ssahotchnerxx @vintagesubmariner @skyewardolicitycloisdelena91 @hotchnerxo @ashhotchner @hotchs-bitch @jaspxr