#easy-mix crust

[goshyesvintageads]

Corn Products Refining Co, 1953

[chamomileteainabuttercup]

me: is writing a scene where Steve and Eddie go out and have lunch together at a little restaurant overlooking Lovers Lake and decide to splash out on dessert

me: it would be hilarious if they got pineapple upside-down cake but nah I'm going to look up cakes that were popular in the 1980s, and perhaps some from the 1970s because Hawkins restaurant menus were probably a bit out of touch

me: omfg Watergate Cake

[vaspider]

If you have celiac or otherwise can't eat wheat, btw, and you like bread, I highly recommend investing in a breadmaker. Even the best store-bought gluten-free bread does not hold a candle to the stuff that comes out of our breadmaker, and it's cheaper per slice even when we buy bread mix in single-loaf bags.

This is our breadmaker. Evie got it on sale, but it is an investment. I'm not going to pretend it isn't a chunk of change up front. There are cheaper ones, but the reason I like this one and think it's worth the money:

It has two smaller paddles, where our older bread maker that my mom got us and got destroyed by getting construction dust in it had one big paddle in the middle. This leaves a big hole in the middle of the finished loaf, which makes the bread much less useful for, like, sandwiches.

Zojirushi is not as well-known a brand in the US, but it's a Brand Name in Japan for good reason. Evie's had our Zojirushi rice cooker for over a decade & we had to replace the inner bowl once bc someone used metal utensils in it and scratched the non-stick coating. We expect to use this machine for at least a decade.

You can program your own cycles, which we found really useful. Evie built a custom cycle that removed the punch-down sections (gluten-free bread tends not to rise as much) and that made our perfect loaf.

A lot of bread machines produce very tall, square loaves, which are awkward to slice, store, and make sandwiches with. This produces loaves that make good sandwiches and toast, and the French toast slices don't crowd the pan.

The top heating element on this gives a really amazingly browned top crust that we definitely didn't get on our old machine.

It's so pretty.

So how is it cheaper in the long run if the machine costs $300+? A little like this:

We use Pamela's Bread Mix bc it's really consistent and easy - you need the bread mix, water, yeast, 3 egg whites, and oil. (We use avocado oil and find it best and most consistent, but regular vegetable oil works!) We buy Pamela's in bulk, and without any subscription discounts or whatever, the $48 pack of 3 bags makes about 11.5 loaves. With the cost of yeast and eggs and stuff, it ends up costing about $4.50 a loaf. (If you buy your yeast in larger bags & store it in an airtight container, you can create less waste and it's also cheaper.)

By comparison, a loaf of Franz GF Bread costs $7-8, and Canyon Bakehouse usually runs about the same.

However, that's not an apples to apples comparison because the Franz loaf is an 18 oz. loaf, whereas our breadmaker makes a 2 lb. loaf. Assuming even the lower-end cost for getting a Franz loaf at the store, an equivalent amount of bread would cost $12.42, and it's not nearly as good.

(Yes, gluten-free bread is fucking expensive. That's part of why I'm writing this post in the first place.)

Anyway, assuming you eat 2 lbs. of bread a week in your house - a breadmaker loaf, basically, to make the math simple - you'll end up spending $7.92 less on bread every week. That means that even at the most expensive cost for the Zojirushi, if you buy it at its highest price (don't do that! wait for a sale!) it'll take 50 weeks - about a year - before the breadmaker pays for itself. If you manage to get it on a 25% off sale (which we did), it pays for itself in about 9 months.

Nine months, I must stress, in which you are eating much more delicious bread.

We tend to go through a couple of loaves a week because toast, sandwiches, and melts are great food for people with low spoons.

Evie and I perfected the Pamela's mix recipe for this particular machine - I'll get it typed up when I'm downstairs next, along with the quasi-babka recipe. (Really, it's like a marble cake and babka and bread had a baby, and it's a family favorite.)

Bread good. The end.

[eddiesghxst]

summer vacation

me writing a full eddie fic? who would've thunk fr

lmaoo here's a little something I randomly typed up, yes it is older neighbor!eddie and no, this trope will never get old (TO ME! TO. ME.)

————

18+ — MINORS DNI

pairing: older neighbor!eddie x college fem!reader

summary: You're back from college for the summer and your parent's new neighbor, Mr. Munson is hot

contains: age-difference (reader is 23, Eddie is like late 30's or sum idk...older), slight forbidden-relationship trope, car sex, making out, tiny mention of oral, fingering, slight praise kink, p in v (unprotected - don't be stupid), creampie, and eddie being a slutty flirt <3

word count: 4.6k

-masterlist-

okay, I think that's everything so...enjoy!

Coming home for summer was, for the most part, decent. You don’t have to worry about buying food and toiletries; you can spend your days doing nothing without feeling like shit about it, and apart from seeing a few familiar faces you aren’t quite fond of, you also get to see childhood friends you’d missed over the semester.

Your parents moved into a bigger house after your mom finally persuaded your dad to buy her the home of her dreams. White picket fence, green grass to match with a wrap-around porch, and a lovely pool in the backyard. It was beautiful, no doubt. And the neighborhood was nice, apart from the obnoxious kids that play rounds of ding dong ditch every now and then, along with your neighbor that blares his heavy metal music all day. You’re forced to listen to mixes of Dio, Megadeath, and Ozzy on a day-to-day basis, but you can’t find it in yourself to be mad, considering the man blaring said music is a sight for sore eyes. You’ve only seen him in passing, in the morning when he’s moving the trash for pick-up day or when he’s just getting home from work.

His name is Mr. Munson; your mother told you one day. “He’s quite friendly, actually. He hasn’t said much since we moved in, but he’s nice for the most part." 

And you can admit when someone is attractive, and Mr. Munson is attractive. But he’s your parent's neighbor, so there’s not much you can do in that realm except admire from afar whenever you get the chance.

You end up booking yourself a babysitting gig for a family friend halfway into the summer: two kids, Lily and David, a set of six-year-old twins. For the most part, they’re easy to manage, David is quieter and more reserved than Lily’s extroverted nature, but they balance each other out enough for you to tolerate them. 

It’s Friday night, and you have them until the morning because their parents are having a date night. Your parents have been on a cruise the past week, so apart from Lily and David, you’ve got the house to yourself. You let the twins choose what they wanted for dinner, and they picked pizza hut, something about them wanting to try cheese stuffed crust. You allow them to have one can of soda each as long as they promised not to tell their parents, and they swore on Lily’s stuffed animal, Oreo, that they wouldn’t share your secret.

It’s nearly ten o’clock when you settle into the couch to watch a movie. You’re under the impression that the twins are asleep until you hear the soft patter of little feet behind you. You turn around to see a sleepy Lily rubbing sleep from her eyes. “Hey, bud, what’s up?” You question, watching as she rounds the corner to stand before you. “I can’t sleep. The music is too loud.” Lilly complains. You frown, “There’s no music playing, buddy.” 

Lily shakes her head and points towards the living room window, and you immediately know what he’s talking about. You can see the garage light from Mr. Munson’s house, indicating that he’s most likely working on something in there. You nod and get up, “Okay. I’ll take care of it; just wait here.”

Lily watches as you put on some shoes before slipping out the front door. You can see her watching through the window as you walk across the lawn toward Mr. Munson’s garage, and you laugh to yourself.

You’re slightly nervous to ask him to turn the music down, but you’re sure Lily isn’t the only annoyed person in the neighborhood, so you take it that you’re doing everyone a favor.

He’s leaned over the open hood of his car, elbow-deep in grease, as he tugs at a few parts. You don’t want to startle him, so you clear your throat, but it’s drowned out by King Diamond singing ‘Curse of the Pharaohs.’ You’re not entirely familiar with the band Mercyful Fate, but you’ve heard Mr. Munson play them quite a few times, enough to be able to name a few of their songs. 

His garage is nice, mostly clean apart from cluttered shelves and cabinets. Three electric guitars hang on the wall, equally spaced from each other to form a pristine presentation. Around the instruments, the wall is filled with posters of different metal bands, a few of them you recognize but for the most part, you just think they add a nice touch.

You step further into the garage and lightly tap his bare shoulder. The man glances over at you, and you catch a glimpse of a cigarette hanging from his lip before he returns to his task. “Can I help you?” He mutters over the music. 

Your mother’s words toss around in your head; He’s quite friendly, actually... he’s nice for the most part. Some friendly introduction that was.

You clear your throat before you speak, “Yeah, I…I live next door, um, I’m babysitting tonight, and so I was just wondering if you could turn down the music.”

He doesn’t respond, and for a moment, you think he didn’t hear you, but then he’s taking in a breath and standing up straight as he steps away from the car, grabbing the towel in his back pocket to wipe his greased hands as he turns around and eyes you for a moment.

You take in the full sight of him, dressed in ripped jeans and a shitty loose white tank top. His hair is tied back into a bun, messy bangs dusting the tops of his eyelashes as he blinks at you. He takes a drag of his cigarette before he speaks, “How can I help you?” 

So, he didn’t hear you. You take in a breath as you rock on the heels of your feet; you speak louder this time, practically yelling over the music, “I’m babysitting right now, and uh, your music is a little loud.” He studies you, slightly narrowing his eyes before he speaks again.

“Don’t like my music, princess?”

Your lips part in surprise before quickly shaking your head, “No! No, I don’t mind, really. I’m not exactly the one with the request.” You gesture towards your house, and he glances over at where you had pointed to catch a glimpse of the little kid watching from the window. Mr. Munson lets out a small laugh, and you smile as he turns back to you, placing a hand against his chest and bowing his head, “My apologies.”

You watch as he turns around and walks over to the shelf where his stereo sits, reaching up for the volume and turning it down to an acceptable level. You take the time to admire the stretch of his arms and the few tattoos on display beneath the garage light.

He’s taking another drag of his cigarette when he turns around and walks over to you. “Better?” It’s a lighthearted tone he uses, straying away from what many would think to be condescending. You nod and breathe, muttering a small thank you before turning on your heel to walk back home. But for some reason, something compels you to turn around. You have to force yourself to ignore that he has still been watching you from where he stands, leaning against the side of his car.

“I really like your car, by the way.” You sound breathless, like you’d been holding the compliment in, and it suddenly burst from your lips. Mr. Munson glances down at the car and smiles. It’s a vintage 1968 Ford Mustang fastback, one you’ve seen many times on those car-themed calendars they sell at the gas station register. It’s black with nicely tinted windows and a top coat so shiny that you believe it’s freshly painted. It fits him perfectly; they complement each other in a seamless way that you admire.

“Why thank you, princess.” He’s walking up to you, and you hold your breath. He stands next to you and turns to join you as you admire the car from afar. He takes one last drag of his cigarette before dropping it and crushing it beneath his shoe. “You like vintage cars?” White clouds escape his lips as he talks, and you like how the smoke burns your lungs. 

You glance towards him and nod with a smile, “Yeah. I’m a big fan of Mustangs. I wanted one in high school, but my dad said no— too fast for a 16-year-old, I guess.” You softly laugh, and he smiles, gazing over at you. “Remind me one of these days, and I’ll let you take her for a spin.”

Your head snaps towards him, and you glance up at him with a look of surprise. “I—... Seriously? I don’t know if I trust myself not to crash it.” You nervously laugh. He laughs with you and pats your shoulder, softly squeezing as he responds, “I’ve got faith in you,” You shiver when he leans forward a bit, “Don’t tell your dad; it’ll be our secret.” Your heart is nearly beating out of your chest when he sneaks in a quick wink, squeezing your shoulder once before walking back towards the garage. 

“Um… Okay, Goodnight, Mr. Munson.” You internally cringe from your high-pitched voice, and you swear you can hear a smile when he responds, facing you as he gets back to work beneath the hood, “Night, sweetheart.”

You’re halfway down his driveway when he adds, “Oh, and uh… Just call me Eddie…” You turn around to see him sifting through his toolbox, glancing your way, and flashing a small smile. “No need for formalities. I’m not eighty years old.” He waves a dismissive hand, and you nod. “Okay… Eddie.” You tell him your name, and he smiles before returning to his task.

You practically sprint back to your house, slamming the door behind you with a deep exhale as you replay the entire conversation.

You spend the rest of your night thinking about your neighbor, Eddie Munson.

————

Over the next few weeks, you conclude that Eddie Munson was not flirting with you.

There’s no possible way he could’ve been flirting with you. For starters, he’s a grown man; he most likely wants nothing to do with a 23-year-old woman struggling to make her way through college. Secondly, you probably had just mistaken him being nice for whatever flirtatious fantasy you’d made up. And lastly, what puts the final nail in the coffin, is when you catch a glimpse of him walking into his home at two in the morning with a woman, one you’d never seen, but someone of his fancy considering the way she’d dragged him inside to do…god knows what.

So, no. Eddie Munson was not flirting with you, and he does not want you. As much as it crushed your ridiculous Lana Del Rey-inspired fantasies, you accepted that the older man had only seen you as a neighbor— a possible friend at most.

The two of you speak here and there whenever you cross paths when he’s leaving for work, taking the trash out, or when he’s working on his car, and you’re watering your mother’s flower bed—a friendly wave with a soft smile. You force yourself to ignore the little things he says that can be mistaken for advances because, in reality, he’s just being nice, and you have a crush.

It’s a hot Saturday afternoon when you see him again, three weeks after your first late-night conversation. You’re standing on the lawn, one hand holding a water hose to spray the flowers and the other hand busy holding a popsicle. Eddie is busy replacing a part in his car, something about a failed transmission he mentioned to you some days ago.

You’re busy listening to your summer playlist as you devour the sweet treat and water the plants, so focused that you don’t even hear Eddie call your name. Through the blaring volume of your headphones, you can catch the sound of a car horn, pulling you from your task-induced trance. You look over to Eddie’s driveway to see he’s pulled the car out of the garage and is now standing outside, leaning against the open car door.

You remove a single earbud and turn off the water hose. You can’t see Eddie's eyes behind the dark-tinted sunglasses he’s wearing, but you can tell he’s looking at you. “You still up for that drive I promised you?”

You think how quickly your heart begins to race inside your chest is stupid. “Uh— now?” 

He shrugs, and you take a silent sharp breath, “I mean, unless if you’re doing something better—” “No!” You feel embarrassed at your evident enthusiasm, “No, I mean… yeah, okay, just…let me get my shoes.” 

You don’t stay long enough to see Eddie smile, but you hear him chuckle to himself as you drop the hose and jog into your house. You curse as you rummage through your closet for the shoes you had in mind, hastily slipping them on once you find them and throwing away the rest of your popsicle. On your way out, your mother asks where you're headed, and you spin a quick lie about going to the gas station for a drink.

Eddie is patiently waiting outside his car when you walk up to him, a nervous smile plastered across your face. “Um… So, where are we going?”

He’s casually chewing a piece of gum as he lazily smiles; you can see the reflection of yourself in his glasses, and your heart races in anticipation. “You ever been to the drop-off?” 

You shake your head no, and you’re becoming a little concerned with the rate your heart is beating as you watch the smirk on Eddie’s lips spread into a full smile. “Well, you’re in for a treat, princess.”

————

The ‘drop-off’ is a cliff. 

A beautiful one, full of wildlife and trees, with a tiny stream at the bottom. You’d question Eddie's motives for bringing you here if you didn't know better. For all you know, Eddie could be a killer that’s coaxed you into his car, driven you out to this cliff, and intends to toss you over the edge to face your inevitable doom.

However, you don’t think that’s his intention, especially not with how he’s licking into your mouth with a lustful hunger, moaning against your lips when you climb over the console to straddle him and grind against the obvious tent in his jeans.

You’re not 100% sure how you ended up here, making out with your much-much older neighbor, but you can’t find it in yourself to stop and think about it because he’s kissing you in a way that makes you want to do unspeakable things.

“For a second there, I thought you wanted to kill me,” Stupid, such a stupid thing to say in the middle of making out, but you say it anyway. To your delight, Eddie breathlessly laughs as he looks up at you, licking his lips whilst his hands slip beneath your skirt to squeeze at your hips.

There’s music softly playing in the back, Mercyful Fate again; Eddie had told you he stumbled across a few of their old CDs while cleaning out his storage and has since been going through one of those phases where he can’t seem to listen to anything else.

You want to kiss Eddie again, but suddenly he’s clearing his throat and giving your thighs a soft pat in indication to move back to your seat. “I should get you home now; it’s late.”

The frown on your face isn’t hard to miss, but Eddie doesn’t see it either way, too preoccupied with avoiding your gaze. “What?” “It’s late.”

You gaze down at him silently for a few seconds before returning to the passenger seat. You don't understand. You don’t understand Eddie Munson. All this time you spent convincing yourself that he wasn’t into you has gone to waste now that he’s just stuck his tongue down your throat, but now he can’t even look you in the eye.

He takes a slow breath, twisting one of the many rings wrapped around his fingers. “Look…I know how this seems, and you probably think I’m an asshole, but… we can’t.” Eddie can feel you glaring at the side of his head, and he braves through it to glance at you. You look confused and upset, much like he’s feeling right now, unbeknownst to you. “Why not?” “Because I—” He looks at you again and pauses before shaking his head, “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have brought you here.” 

You let it sit for a few moments before you speak up and say his name, waiting until he looks at you to speak, “I wanted to come here… and I don’t want to leave. I want to stay here and… I want you to fuck me.”

You’re not exactly sure where the sudden boldness came from, but you feel so fucking good having it off your chest. You want Eddie to fuck you. You’ve been wanting Eddie to fuck you; hell, it’s practically all you’ve been thinking about since you came home for summer and saw him. So many fantasies of Eddie fucking you in various places; your house, his house, on the hood of his car, in your backyard near the pool. You want it all, and you’re bored of using just your hands and imagination.

“I don’t think you understand what you’re really asking for here, sweetheart.” There’s a warning glint in his eyes, an offer to back out and forget this ever happened, but you don’t want that— you want him.

“But I’m not asking. I want you to fuck me, Eddie. And I know you want it too; otherwise, we wouldn’t still be here.”

Eddie looks at you with a gaze good enough to have you clenching your thighs beneath your skirt. He looks away with a breathless laugh, “You don’t give up, do you?”

You try to hide the smile tugging at your lips but fail as you shake your head. “Shit… Okay… Okay, fine, uh— get in the back.”

You try to be as coy as possible and not show your excitement as you climb into the backseat of Eddie’s car. You watch him sift through his glove box, cursing to himself when he can’t find what he’s looking for. “I’m on the pill,” You suddenly say, growing shy when Eddie looks back at you. “...Just thought I’d let you know.” 

Eddie nods and shuts the glovebox, “I guess that solves that problem, then.”

Eddie’s then climbing to the backseat to join you, groaning in protest at the cramped space and his tight back. His lips meet yours in a hasty kiss when you advance, hungry to feel him in any way you can. He curses under his breath as he finally settles in, pulling you closer to sit on his lap. “You sure your parents aren’t gonna be wondering where you went?” He mutters against your lips, moaning when you reach down to palm him over his jeans. You nod, breathless, as you respond with a mischievous smile, “Told them I was going to get a drink.”

You’re back to kissing, rutting against one another like you’re getting paid to do it, and Eddie makes a comment about feeling like he’s back in high school fucking in some empty parking lot, and you laugh. Your laugh falls into a moan when Eddie sneaks a hand beneath your skirt to pet over your clothed center, humming at the obvious evidence of your arousal. You try your best to keep kissing Eddie, but you lose focus when he pushes your panties aside and drags a finger through your wet heat. Your hips twitch against his hold, and you mewl, dropping your head into the space between his neck and shoulder. “Need it, Eddie, please.” You beg, and Eddie hums, rubbing your clit and causing your thighs to twitch, “What, princess? What do you need, hm?” “Need you to fuck me.”

He chuckles, and you whine in annoyance at his teasing when he rubs your clit, “Gotta get you ready for me first, pretty girl. That okay?” He can feel you hastily nodding against his neck, hips squirming for more when he finally gives it to you, slowly sinking a single digit into you. Eddie’s sporting a short scuff these days, too lazy to shave, and the sensation of the coarse hair scratching against you sends shivers down your spine as you nuzzle against his neck, begging for more, more, more.

His other hand smooths up the expanse of your thigh and around your hips to squeeze the fat of your ass, groaning lowly when you whimper and push against his hand. “M-more, Eddie.“ 

Eddie could come just from hearing your broken voice beg for his fingers, “Fuck, you’re gonna kill me, princess.” He sinks in another finger, slowly fucking them in and out of your wet cunt until you’re a whiney mess atop of him, begging for more.

You reach a hand out to hold onto the seat behind him, nails digging into the vintage leather as you rock against his fingers. The wet sound of Eddie’s fingers thrusting into you fills out the space, falling into a filthy harmony with his radio. Eddie will, without a doubt, be thinking about this moment for the coming weeks. He’s sure of it.

Eddie makes you come twice before laying you across his leather seats, once with just his fingers and again with his fingers, pulling down your tiny tank top to suck and lick at your tits, leaving little red and purple blotches across your soft skin.

The space is tight in the back of his car, but neither of you cares enough to mention it. You’re starry-eyed and blissed out as you watch Eddie sit up to unbuckle his jeans and push them to rest below his ass. Your mouth waters at the sight of him; he’s long and thick, not the thickest you’ve had but definitely the longest. As you watch Eddie languidly stroke himself, you want to wrap your lips around him and taste the small amounts of precum he smears across his tip. Eddie glances at you and smirks when he sees your hungry gaze; he knows what you want and wants to give it to you. 

He leans over you and smears his sticky thumb across your bottom lip, begging for entrance which you gladly grant him. You wrap your lips around his thumb and suck as if it was his cock, swirling your tongue around the pad of his finger and humming at the burst of flavor against your tongue, the taste of Eddie Munson. You love it, and you want more, but Eddie has different plans.

He removes his thumb from your mouth and brings it down to slicken the slide of his cock as he strokes himself a few more times. He runs the tip of his cock from your entrance to your clit, slapping it against you a few times to pull pathetic moans from deep within your chest. He smiles, kissing you as he does it again, “Fuck, you’re so wet, Jesus Christ.” He moans against your lips, and you softly laugh, squirming to feel more of him. The sounds you’re making are obscene, both your moans and the wet sloshing between your legs each time Eddie taps himself against you.

“Eddie, please. Please fuck me, I want it so bad—” He cuts you off with another kiss before he pulls away to adjust your position. He lifts one of your legs to drape over his shoulder as he pins the other leg to the seat. “There we go, keep them open, baby. Just like that,” He hums in approval, and your chest flutters at the notion. The initial push of Eddie’s cock within your walls is what you’d imagine heaven to feel like in the form of a sensation.

He was big, that much you could tell from looking, but actually feeling it is almost otherworldly. You can feel every vein rubbing against your walls with each inch he sinks further into you. By the time he bottoms out, balls pressed against the thick of your ass and pelvis deliciously kissing your clit, you’re at a loss for words.

You can hear Eddie praising you for how well you’re taking him, but through your lust-clouded mind, you don’t comprehend much, too absorbed in the feeling of Eddie slamming into you repeatedly. 

Eddie’s hand is pressed into the seat right next to your head, holding him up as he fucks you for all your worth, and you find yourself wrapping a hand around his wrist, nails digging into the tattooed skin. He hisses in pleasure, moaning when you clench around him. “You feel so fucking good, princess. Taking me so well, fuck.”

You let your head fall to the side, lips pressing against Eddie's wrist in a gentle kiss, and it seems to flip something in Eddie’s brain because he gives you a particularly rough thrust, humming when you let out a high-pitched moan. “Oh my god—- shit, you’re so fucking wet. This is all for me, hm?” 

You’re pathetically nodding and moaning in response, grinding your hips to meet his hasty thrusts.

With your two previous orgasms, you find yourself teetering on the edge of overstimulation, thighs twitching to close around Eddie’s frame, but he’s quick to deny you the right. “Keep them open, princess. Need to see the way this pretty pussy swallows my dick.” 

Eddie’s now sitting back on his knees, head tilted down to avoid hitting the roof of the car, allowing him to gaze down at the sight of your wet cunt taking every inch of him. He’s got tunnel vision as he coasts his hands from your hips to your cunt, slowing down his thrusts to spread your sticky lips apart slowly. You pulse beneath his gaze, and you feel him twitch within you. “Look at this pretty flower,” he hums, leaning down to let a dribble of spit drip onto your awaiting sex. You moan his name, and he smiles, dragging a thumb through the spit to spread it against your clit.

He begins thrusting again, caught between the sight of his cock drilling in and out of your pussy, the bounce of your tits with each thrust, and the way your face twists with pleasure whenever he hits that one spot.

It’s unexpected when you come; you’re practically speechless as Eddie fucks every thought out of your head. He groans at the feeling of you clenched around him, the view of you squirming beneath him and clawing at his seat. If it were anyone else, he would’ve bitched about that, but you look so fucking good. 

“Holy fuck, I’m gonna come,” Eddie pants, and you moan in eagerness when he says it, eyes fluttering open to watch as he starts to succumb to the feeling. ”Fuck, where do you want it, princess?” “Inside, please. Want it inside, Ed’s.”

Ed’s, that’s what does it for him. He’s immediately tipping over the edge, pressing his entire length into you and filling you to the fucking brim. You can feel some of it leak out of you, dripping down your ass and onto the seats below you. You watch in awe as his jaw drops, eyes fluttering shut, and head tipping back in ecstasy. You want to take a picture and have this view for the rest of your life.

When Eddie pulls out, you’re sensitive and cry out in protest, but he kisses your jaw gently and tells you how good you did. He can’t help it when he leans back and looks at the sight below him, ringed fingers gently massaging your sore inner thighs, “You look so fucking pretty filled with me, sweetheart… I’m going to be addicted to you.”

You laugh, and he smiles before proceeding to help you get appropriately dressed again. Once you’re both dressed and cleaned to the best of your ability, with the help of a few leftover fast food napkins in Eddie’s glove box, you make your way to the front seats again.

Eddie glances over at you and smiles when you shy away. He reaches for his box of Marlboro's on the dashboard, and you watch as he lights up. He takes a slow breath, letting the smoke properly settle into his lungs before turning to you with a smirk.

“Let’s go get you that drink.”

[leviathanspain]

you tore my world in two

daemon targaryen x targaryen!reader

synopsis: giving birth to a targaryen child was never easy

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

you were writhing. your hands clutched at the bed sheets before you as another scream rippled from your throat. you didn’t feel anything that wasn’t the feeling of your body being torn apart.

“the child-“ your midwife panted as you felt her hand, “finally!” she shrieked, and the need to push arrived again, and you screamed, heavily as you cried.

daemon was watching you from the doorframe, he was frozen with shock as he watched you, his heart pounded in his chest as he watched you cry.

the baby made no noise as you finally birthed it. a slap on the back of the baby’s chest was heard but no cry. your face was wet with tears, your brow drenched with sweat. your blood was falling onto the floor in puddles, red, sorrowful puddles.

daemon couldn’t take his mind off what he had done to you, what this child brought onto you. now the child couldn’t even give his own mother the decency of crying, a reward for the price you had paid.

you beckoned daemon to look at the child, your eye lids were slowly wavering, you started to feel the heaviness of your body, and you felt yourself slip off the edge of the bed.

daemon ran towards you, his arms catching you before you hit the stone cold floor. you were light as a feather, blood still pooled from between your legs and your skin was colorless, even your white hair was graying. he was watching you die, he was holding you as you were dying.

you awoke slowly. your eyes were crusted shut, your body felt tight and you felt this emptiness within you. you could barely see the light in the dark room, a small candle lit beside you. a lady walked up to you, and you recognized her suddenly, “my lady.” she greeted you, a smile of joy mixed with relief evident on her face as she saw you. you managed a smile, and you drowned out her voice as she called for the others, and you tried to recollect your memory.

“my lady.” a voice called to you from the door and you turned, watching a small bundle move in the hands of the nurse. your heart jumped with joy as you saw your child, “a boy.” she told you, and you couldn’t help the tears in your eyes as you picked the child into your arms.

“where is she?!” you heard shouts coming from down the corridor and you immediately recognized them.

“daemon?” you called you, and the nurses jumped back slightly as he burst into the room, his face was covered with dirt, and he smelled of dragon.

“daemon.” you cried, happy to see your husband, and immediately he embraced you, gently as you whimpered slightly.

“i was so afraid..” he paused, and swallowed thickly, “you tore my world apart when we first met, and you tore it completely to shreds last night.” he kissed your forehead and noticed the little baby in your arms, “i didn’t know what to do..” his voice trailed off as he looked at you, and the relief in his face was truly heartening.

“i love you so much, my love.” he kissed your forehead, again, repeatedly to show his love, “more than you’ll ever believe.”

the baby cried before you could respond, and you cooed, happy to hear the noise you so desperately fought for.

[ms-demeanor]

Hey do you hate pumpkin? I hate pumpkin. It's okay in soup with garlic and chili but I can't stand it sweet in pie or bread or muffins. Gross.

But I like pumpkin pie spice, which is just a combination of ginger, nutmeg, cloves, and cinnamon. (Hate sweet coffee so pumpkin spice lattes are off the table for me too, but I'll add actual pumpkin pie spice to coffee sometimes).

Anyway if you hate pumpkin but want to get in on pumpkin spice I've got two recommendations:

Add pumpkin pie spice to chocolate chip cookies

Add pumpkin pie spice to a Mother's Day Pie and dye it orange for a mock-pumpkin pie.

So pumpkin pie spice is one part of each cinnamon, nutmeg, ginger, and cloves. If you've got those spices on your spice rack you can mix them together and add a teaspoon of the resulting powder to either cookies or pie for a nice hint of spice. Add two teaspoons if you like a lot of spice.

You do you for your chocolate chip recipe (I use the Tollhouse recipe but I double the recipe and cut the chocolate chips in half and I use all butter/no shortening) and here's a Mother's Day Pie recipe:

(This is supposed to be a pie so easy that a dad and kids can make it for mom without her help, hence the name. It's an egg custard pie with a self-forming coconut crust and without spices is just a bit bland)

1 cup sugar

2 tbsp all purpose flour

.25 tsp salt

1 tsp pumpkin pie spice

6tbsp melted butter (cooled)

1 tsp vanilla OR .5 tsp almond extract

3 eggs

1 can of evaporated (NOT sweetened condensed) milk (12 oz can)

1 cup shredded coconut

Preheat your oven to 350

Mix dry ingredients (except coconut), add in the butter and flavor extract, then beat in the eggs one at a time. Stir in your can of evaporated milk and mix thoroughly, then fold in the shredded coconut. (optional: add a few drops of food coloring to turn it orange in a mock pumpkin pie or whatever color you want; i love teal food and no one can stop me) Pour into a pie plate and bake for 50-55 minutes; put in the refrigerator for at least 2 hours to allow the custard to set.

I find that if you're using the spices almond extract tastes better and if you're omitting the spices vanilla extract tastes better (and in that case the pie is nice when served with fresh berries)

[tonixe]

hey qween! can you right some more billy fics?

I loved ur last one <33

"Dessert"

a/n: YES, ngl my scream era resurfaced and now I want Billy and Stu inside me again, literally.

notes: not proofread bc I was a horn dog, i want billy nowww!

warning: smut, creampies, reader just had a sweet tooth, vaginal sex, p in the v, kitchen sex, no protection just hit it raw (don't follow this advice) reader is innocent, make-outs, Billy being such a pervert :(,

pairing: Innocent reader x Billy Loomis

word counter: 1.6k

You were craving something sweet, nearer something to satisfy your taste buds. You didn't know what it was. Laying down on your back on your bed. But you were bored and nobody was home so you had the place to yourself.

You wondered if your boyfriend would want to join in too, you looked at the phone on your bedside table before debating it, then you took the phone handle and dialed his number in, laying down on the frame of your bed, playing the long cord.

Hearing it ring out before you heard his voice. "Billy?" you said his name, it was easy to say off of your tough, "Yes, Y/N?" He responded to me, as you rubbed your legs together feeling erratic to his voice, "Come to my house, my parents aren't here at all..so we can hang out, you know" you trailed off mumbling, feeling anxious as you played with the phone cord.

You heard his voice chuckling, making you shiver to your core. "I'll be there at 7" You held the phone close to you. Before You heard him hang up the phone, putting the phone down. Feeling something in your lower core throb, you didn't know the feeling at all. The weird throb made you feel weird, rubbing your legs together, you bit my lip. Getting up from your bed, you went into your closet, taking something out. It was a pink translucent skirt and top with a ribbon on the chest, Stu bought it for you for your birthday when you went shopping. It was weird for him to buy something so revealing for you when you weren't his girlfriend in the first place, wasn't he with Tatum.

You stripped all your clothes off being left with only your panties, before wearing the pink material on. Looking into the mirror it was only your panties showing, turning around as you looked. Fluffing the pink skirt up. It was short, really short that it showed the curves of your ass. Would this be a good outfit for him?

Closing the door to my door, before you walked down the stairs to the kitchen, took out the supplies onto the counter, stood up my toes got the bowls and whisk from it, and placed it down. Hearing the doorbell ring, as you walked to the door, seeing Billy outside, opening the door and letting him in. "Hey Billy" you smiled at him, "Woah, what are you wearing" Before he took my hand and spun me around, you tried to hide the smile on my face. His face had a smirk on it.

"So, I was just going to make some desserts, I forgot to mention it on call, but wanna join?" you smiled. "Hell yeah" You giggled at his excited expression.

Taking ahold of his hand, before you took him to the kitchen. Feeling his eyes on you with the revealing outfit, you didn't hate it but it made you feel weird in-between your legs. Everything was out on the table before you guys began making the sweet treat, adding flour, butter, salt, and some water into a bowl, and mixing it up. You felt Billy's hand on your waist, his head resting on your shoulders, as mixed the dry ingredients, "Whatcha making" He hummed, "A creampie" You answered back, before taking the pie dish and squishing the dough in the crust.

"A creampie?" He questioned, "Yeah, I been craving one today" You flickered between your boyfriend and what your hands were doing, "Why would you wanna make one when I can give it to you myself" He whispered in my ear, making my face feel hot.

"Billy, stop being so dirty" Your face was flushed from his comment, "Alright, alright.. you are so easy to embarrass" he chuckled, "You can at least help. me with getting me some measurements from the drawer" You said, "Coming right up".

You knew Billy made some infamous dirty comment in your guy's relationship, but never really tested it out. You weren't clueless about what he said, it was just that you never did it.

"Shit.." you forgot to bring out the mixer, turning to the side where the cabinet was, it was higher than you thought. Standing on your tippy toes, trying to get it. Before feeling something touching your ass, turning your eyes to Billy that was dangerously close to you, feeling something pointy touching your lower region. You felt your heart beating faster before he said something "You need help?" He said, "Yeah, the mixer up top," You said. As a few painful seconds passed by, before he got it, giving it to you.

"Thank you," you said, before getting right back to my post. My face was still feeling hot like my lower region, trying to ignore it. Cracking some eggs, measurements of sugar, milk, butter, salt, and some vanilla into the bowl, mixing it with the mixer until it was fluffy and looked like whipped cream. You were satisfied with how it looked so far, hearing Billy's footsteps. As he tasted the filling of the pie crust, "You were outside yourself Y/N, it's good" He said, "Well you can't eat the whole thing, I need for the pie" You grumbled.

Scooping the white cream into the pie crust and smoothing it out, topping it with some bananas, and putting it into the fridge to cool down. Before you looked at the mess before you. "Oh gosh," you mumble. You felt some creeping behind you, Billy holding your waist, you didn't know what was up with him today. Turning your head up to him confused, "What happen?" came out of your lips.

"You thought you could wear something that revealing just for me not to touch you at all" you felt his head on the crook of your neck, planting kisses, as his words were muffed but audible.

The small gesture made little high-pitched moans come out of your lips, "Forgot you were a little virgin, Y/N" You felt his hands touching everywhere on your body, as he started marking you with kisses. His hands right hand gets dangerously close to the hems on your skirt and his left to your breast.

"Who bought you this?" He asked, "Stu" you blankly replied, "Of course, it's that fucker" You heard him mutter under his voice before he pull off your top with a fast motion. Your breast spilling out of the top, "Billy–" You were cut off by him playing with your nipple, moans coming out of your mouth. Feeling your lower region burning from not getting attention, his hands creeping under your skirt.

Putting his fingers inside you making you gasp from the intrusive. "Haah~" you moaned out, as he kept on playing your body. You didn't know this outfit would drive him crazy at all.

You leaned and looked away from what he was doing to your body, you liked how he was playing with you but it was embarrassing.

"Billy" you whined, "What is it?" he asked.

"It feels weird" you gestured with your eyes to your cunt, feeling him pulling his fingers making you whine. "Billy–" you whined, his hands were bending you forward against the counter where your breast pressed against the cold counter, making you jolt. Hearing the jingling of his belt behind you, as you glanced behind you saw his dick. It was big, you were getting nervous if you could have that thing inside you.

Turning around quickly, you were desperate for any relief, his hands on your waist. As he lined up to your dripping cunt before he thrust into you making you jolt up, biting your lip from the pain. His dick felt like it was hitting every place that you didn't know existed. The pain slowly turned into pure pleasure as his hips jacked hammer with yours.

You were getting needy, your moans spilling out as he collided with your hips. Putting your hands into fists on the table feeling your cunt getting abused by him. Feeling him edging to your cervix, feeling something bubbling inside you.

Before he stopped, your face was already flushed and begging for more, "Lean your back on the counter" feeling him lifting you to the counter, your back being met with cold tile. "You ready, princess" He whispered to your ear leaning against you. Before he started the pace, feeling him in different parts of you, moaning out in pleasure.

You wanted to kiss him, flickering your eyes up and he kept thrusting into you like a madman, "Billy..kiss please" you whispered, looking up at him. Your face was heated, your lips were already red, and you looked like you were in sort of heat. It made Billy have a smirk on his face, as he kissed you, you wrapped your arms around his neck, sharing a messy kiss. He forced his tongue, as he explored your mouth, hitting the lower part of your lip, making you moan to him, before he withdrew.

You looked like a mess under him. Feeling something hot coming in between your legs, feeling something liquid coming out of you, "Holy shit, I didn't you knew you were squirter" Billy chuckled, which only made you more embarrassed as you looked away.

His dick still hitting your cervix making you orgasm again, moans erupting from your throat. Feeling Billy's pace getting slow and sloppy, before feeling hot ropes of cum coming into you, his pelvis pressed yours as he released into his loads. His dick getting softer inside you.

"Billy, did you just cum inside of me" you panic, looking down at the mess between your legs, His breathing was heavy as he kissed you again, "You won't get pregnant the first time, besides ill get you the pill, besides I wasn't lying when I said I was going to give you a creampie" he smirked.

You were tired, and probably weren't going to eat that creampie anytime soon, feeling him taking out himself from your cunt made you whine from the warmth that was gone.

"Let me get you cleaned up.."

[foodffs]

This scrumptious, easy crust-less Pumpkin Dump Cake is like eating the best part of the pumpkin pie topped with a crunchy cinnamon topping. The bottom layer is super quick to come together as it is all mixed in one bowl. It has the taste and texture of pumpkin pie. 

[soberscientistlife]

For all those who love baking, but want the task to be made easy as possible. Anna M. Mangin foresaw your needs. She invented the pastry fork in 1891.

—Anna M. Mangin invented the pastry fork in 1891. The utensil was used to mix dough for pie crusts, cookies, butter and flour pastries without needing to mix the ingredients by hand. The fork was also used to beat eggs, mash potatoes, and prepare salad dressings. Mangin was awarded a patent on March 1, 1892, for the pastry fork for mixing pastry dough Patent No. 470,005, dated March 1, 1892.

With this invention, Mangin paved the way for future cooking gadgets to shorten cooking durations and alleviate the physical strain of kneading, mixing, and mashing by hand.

In 1893, Mangin's Pastry Fork displayed the ingenuity of African American inventors and the tenacity of African American women at the World's Columbian Exposition. Held in Chicago, Illinois, people of color and women were initially denied opportunities to participate in exhibits. After repeated demands for inclusion a limited number of non-white exhibits including Mangin's Pastry Fork were allowed. Although her invention occupied only a small corner on the second floor, a writer on female inventions noticed the kitchen wonder and called it "the only thing of its kind at the patent's office."

Source: African Archives

[weirdnotal]

Okay people listen

Goth: mostly black, gothicly inspired, very elaborate

Emo (pop punk): also black, certain band t shirts, jewelry

Scene: mixed up with emo a lot, more jewelry, candy bracelets, more color

Mall goth: more color, less makeup, still black, hair dye

Metal head: mostly black, long hair a lot of dudes (don't have to be), spikes, anarchist themes

Punk: dramatic, one color and black, battle jacket, anarchist themes, weird hair styles

Crust punk: punk but never wash the battle jackets/jeans

*still wash your other clothes especially your underwear

Grunge: kinda a more laid-back version of punk and goth, vintage stuff

*grunge is not called "skaterboy style" that's different

Reminder: lot of these were made off of not having enough money to buy clothes please be wary about were you get your stuff

Reminder: please listen to some of the music to any genre before calling yourself that it's very easy just look up "genre music" do some more research yourself too

None of that^ was to say that you can't like other music and clothes, trust a lot of alt people still have "every day" or "work" clothes

PSA: You can't be anti gay or anti black or anti women or anti trans and alternative(alt). Alternative culture is immersed into those cultures, and we owe it to them.

[deanwritings]

Flour, Flour Everywhere

Pairing: Dean x Reader

Warnings: Fluff.

Prompt: “…” “i can explain” “what did you do to my kitchen?”

Summary: Dean comes home to a very messy kitchen.

Word Count: 934

Gif:

A/N: Look at me writing fluff. Just a cute little piece based on a prompt I saw

Shit. This was not as easy as you thought it would be. 

You run the back of your forearm across your brow, wiping away the beads of sweat that had started to form. 

This looked so much easier in the Youtube video playing on your phone. 

It had come across your screen last night when you couldn’t sleep and were in the bowels of the internet trying to find something that would help you relax enough to finally pass out. 

But as “Apple Pie ASMR” played, not only was it deliciously relaxing, but it looked pretty easy. Which sparked the idea – why not bake a pie?

You tried your hand at baking over the years, never venturing outside of cookies, but you found baking relaxing, and figured there was a certain green-eyed hunter who would be very appreciative to have a freshly baked pie. 

So when Dean headed out for a supply run this morning, you popped into the kitchen and got to work. 

And boy, was it work. 

You had pulled out almost every pot, pan, and appliance as you worked to mix and form the crust and render the apples. It sounded so simple, but Jesus Christ you had been at this almost an hour now and you still haven’t even gotten the crust dough in the oven yet.

But you take a deep breath and dive back into it, putting all of your strength into the counter as you use the roller you found stashed in the far back of a cabinet as you attempt, again, to even out the dough beneath you, and you groan as it continues to stick to your rolling pin. 

More flour. Was what every website said if your dough was sticking, but every time you added more flour, it would just harden again, and you basically had to start over. 

But you were in too deep, and you weren’t the type of person to give up when it got tough. 

When the going got tough, the tough were going to make this god damn pie.

Dean wanderers down the hallway, grocery bags hanging from his fingertips as he takes heavy steps towards the kitchen. It was nice getting out of the bunker but sometimes it really sucked how long it took just to get some simple items since the bunker was so far out from town. 

As he takes his next step, he hears a grumbled “for fuck’s sake,” the voice clearly belonging to you. 

He picks up the pace, not worried, but curiosity carrying him the rest of the way to the kitchen as he approaches the entry, his steps faltering as he nearly loses his grip on the bags in his hands. 

When he left about two hours ago, it was a sparkling clean kitchen. Exactly how he liked it, especially since he was really the only one who cooked among the three of them. 

But now. Now it was a disaster. 

The counters, usually clean and free of clutter, were covered in what had to be every piece of cookware in the kitchen. In between the limited space of bowls and pans was flour, butter, Dean had no idea what else but holy shit was it a mess.

You’re bent over a counter, your back to Dean, not having noticed his presence. 

“What the hell did you do to my kitchen?” Dean roars as he finally steps into the catastrophe that is his kitchen. Yes, his kitchen. He spends the most time out of anyone in there, and prided himself on keeping it sparkling. 

You jump up at his voice and spin around, flour flying around you. 

He drops his bags on the table, being that there is no room anywhere else, keeping his hard gaze on you as he stalks closer. 

“I can explain,” you hold up your hands as he stops in front of you. 

He raises his eyebrows and nods, silently letting you know to continue.

Instead of answering, you spin around, and Dean frowns, but without any time to linger on his confusion, he takes a quick step back as you quickly twirl back, this time, with something in your hands.

Dean looks down in disbelief.

“Is that…” He points at it, his anger falling away.

You fold your lips and nod.

“Homemade apple pie.” You lift it up as a peace offering. “Fresh out of the oven.” You finish with a smirk.

Dean runs his tongue over his teeth, nodding as he decides if he’s going to accept your bribe.

“Fine,” he concedes, taking the tin from your hands. You reach behind you and return with a fork, with Dean grabs with an “ah.”

Dean hurries over to the table, pushing aside the grocery bags as he takes a seat, carefully placing the pie in front of him with the utmost care. 

He gives his hands a rub, taking in the golden lattices and glistening apples laying underneath, his mouth watering at the sight. 

He picks up the fork and digs in, steam billowing as he lifts the fork to his mouth, not waiting for it to cool before it shoves it in.

He takes a bite, the apples not mushing beneath his teeth, and an overwhelming taste of salt exploding over his tongue. 

“Soooo,” you come around the island and rest against it. “How is it?” You look at him with gleaming eyes. 

“Great, sweetheart,” he mumbles over uncooked apples, taking a hard swallow. 

“Does this mean I’m forgiven?” You plead.

Dean just raises his eyebrows with a tight smile and shoots you a thumbs up.

Forever Tags

@iprobablyshipit91  @likesiriusly @kittyque @findingfitnessforme @wonderange @deansgoddess @captainemwinchester @xtina2191 @smoothdogsgirl @mogaruke @chin-up-love @tsunadesenjuuchiha @lyarr24 @globetrotter28 @krazykelly 

[ltwilliammowett]

Cooking like a Sailor - Sea Pie

Sea-pie is a layered pie with meat or fish that was served to British sailors in the 18th century because it was easy to prepare and cook such dishes.

It is prepared by lining a pot or pan with a thick layer of batter and then filling it alternately with meat (e.g. pork, beef, fish or pigeon) or stew and vegetables; the ingredients are then covered with batter. Mark Morton in Cupboard Love: A Dictionary of Culinary Curiosities, claims that the pie is made "by alternating layers of meat, fish and vegetables with broken biscuits" and that it "doesn't really have anything to do with the sea or the pie". Therefore, there is no set list of ingredients; rather, the sea pie is made with whatever meat and vegetables were available at the time of preparation and was used for leftovers and used to be a bit of a highlight among sailors.

However, I have a nice recipe to try here by Hannah Glasse, 1747. It is from her chapter "For Captains of Ships" in The Art of Cookery Made Plain and Easy and called "A Cheshire Pork Pye for Sea." Here it is:

"Take some salt pork that has been boiled, cut it into thin Slices, an equal Quantity of Potatoes, pared and sliced thin, make a good crust, cover the Dish, lay a layer of Meat, seasoned with a little Pepper, and a Layer of Potatoes; then a Layer of Meat, and a layer of Potatoes, and so on till your Pye is full. Season it with Pepper; when it is full, lay some Butter on top, and fill your Dish above half full with soft Water. Close your Pye up, and bake it in a gentle Oven."

Or:

Ingredients

5 pounds boneless beef sirloin, cubed

3 pounds boneless pork roast, cubed

6 skinless, boneless chicken breast halves - cubed

4 large onions, chopped

6 large stalks celery, chopped

salt and pepper to taste

6 pieces of pie crusts big enough for your pan

Directions

Preheat the oven to 350 degrees F (175 degrees C). Cook and stir beef, pork, and chicken in a Dutch oven over medium-low heat until meat begins to brown. Mix in onions and celery; season with salt and pepper. Continue cooking, stirring occasionally, for 5 more minutes.

Arrange 2 pie crusts in a single layer in the bottom of a large roasting pan. Spread 1/2 of the meat mixture over crusts. Arrange 2 more pie crusts on top, then spread with remaining meat mixture.

Cover with remaining 2 pie crusts, pressing and stretching them to the sides of the pan. Poke 8 small holes on top to allow steam to escape. Bake in the preheated oven until top is golden brown and pie is hot and bubbly, about 1 hour.

Recipe source

[happy-beeeps]

Day 11: Icicle

Summary: Din takes you shooting on a brisk, wintery day

WC: 560

Warnings: blasters, suggestive content but nothing NSFW, he's just kinda a giant tease.

Finally recovered from my respiratory infection! Let's get this show back on the road!

“Just like that, you’ve got it.” Din’s voice is heavy against your ear as you lean back into his chest, his arms holding you as you aim the blaster at the small can he’s set up outside the ship. You rock your shoulders back, stare down the blaster, look beyond the target and–

Miss spectacularly.

Honestly, it’s really spectacular. Your shot has managed to completely bypass the can and shoot a hole in a nearby ice patch, steam rising steadily out of the chilled water.

There’s a ringing in your ears mixed with Din’s throaty laugh, and you shake your head to knock both noises out. “There has to be something wrong with your blaster.”

“Course, because there’s no way there’s anything wrong with you.”

You do your best to ignore the way his voice drops an octave lower at his latest words, and try to settle yourself on looking at the can. “I don’t wanna shoot that anymore. It’s pissing me off.”

“Fair enough.” He pulls his second blaster from his hip and shoots it fast and easy, the can rocketing backwards off the snow crusted log it’s sat on so fast you’re not even sure if your mind registered it. “Let’s try something else, pretty girl.”

Din walks you over toward the mouth of a nearby cave, past snow-covered purple and blue trees and fauna, underneath the dim, glowing winter sky. Grogu floated closely behind, though you couldn’t see him, perfectly warm in his soft, enclosed pram.

You were perfectly fine with a vibroblade, and an excellent pilot. There had always been something with blasters you just couldn’t get. Sure, you could hit a large target, vaguely, and had enough skill to travel alongside Din and not die, but that was a long way from calling yourself good with a blaster. So, you had determined you were going to try to get better. By the maker, you had to. You couldn’t get worse.

You walked a few minutes away from the ship towards the cave, where a long frozen waterfall left shimmering  icicles down either side, and a few dipping over the mouth.

“Perfect. Let’s aim for those.” Din pointed up to the cluster of icicles, and you spun on your heel to face him.

“I can’t even hit a can.”

“Yeah but these are up. It’s harder to hit something right in front of you.”

“I literally don’t believe you but, sure.”

You moved to your stance and cocked the blaster upwards, getting ready to shoot. Din’s foot found the inside of yours and tapped between the two, spreading your legs just a bit. His hand worked itself on the small of your back, holding you flush against him, while his other arm pressed itself under yours, giving you a slightly different angle.

“Now just breathe into it, pretty girl, let it fly.”

You did. Closing your eyes for a moment and taking one breath, then two, then three, opinion your eyes wide before pulling the trigger—and being met with the clear sound of the icicle shattering. 

You spun on Din and grinned, and he pulled you in close before whispering. “Thatta girl. Let’s see if you can hit the rest.”

[comingfromastatechampionasshole]

Doc's Best In Goddamn Show Montana State Fair Coconut Cream Pie

As promised, the baked good that did the best, I'll release the recipe. This is one of my favorite pies of all time, hewed into a perfect custard-based pie that won me my first Best in Show rosette in nine years. And pies is even a tough category!

The other shocking thing: This is one of the easiest pies I make. It's very much "don't worry about it." It even tastes better if you make everything but the topping the day before serving.

“Doc, why don’t you use cream of coconut for the custard?” Friend, I tried for years to get that to work, only to find out that cream of coconut just does not bake up as nice as milk and cream, so I use a nice extract and toast the coconut to get the flavors. 

YOU WILL NEED:

A crust (I presume you can either make or buy a crust. I might even have a recipe here on the blog, I can’t remember) 

Pie: 

5 eggs

¾ cup caster/baker’s sugar 

2 cups of whole milk

½ cup half and half (I believe this is called half cream in the UK)

1 tsp vanilla bean paste

1 tsp coconut extract (I like Olivenation or watkins. Also, bear in mind you may need to use more. I do this to taste and the tsp is a guess on my part. Don’t worry, I’ll tell you where to taste in the recipe) 

Pinch salt

1 cup sweetened flaked coconut

Topping:

2 cups heavy cream VERY COLD (can use whipping or double also, but I prefer heavy) 

2 tablespoons jello or jello style pudding mix, coconut 

Powdered/icing sugar (this will be to taste) 

Decoration: Most definitely toasted coconut. I really like Nuts.com’s organic dried coconut chips, but it depends on how flush I’m feeling--I did not use it in this competition. Macadamia nuts are great, dried pineapple, for this competition I used coconut rolls from costco. This is mostly for visual appeal, so be creative. 

Toast your coconut: Put the oven at 350F. Put some parchment down on a baking sheet, and then put your sweetened flaked coconut on the sheet. Don’t forget to put in a bit extra for your topping decoration. Toast for about five minutes, it will probably need a stir and watch it closesy--coconut burns easy. When it’s a nice pale golden, pull it and up the temperature of the oven to 375F. 

Blind bake your crust. If you haven’t done this before, I think it’s easy but admit maybe not everyone will. Roll your crust out into a pie plate, just like you always would, and then cover the bottom with tin foil, and fill with pie weights or beans, or rice--I’m a big fan of using sugar. Whatever you use. Bake it about 15-17 minutes, it should be lightly brown at the edges. Take out the pie weight you used. Bake it about 5 minutes more, just so the bottom gets very lightly toasted. 

Make the filling! Beat your eggs in in a large bowl until they are very well combined but not whipped. Beat in everything but the coconut itself. NOW TASTE IT. Does it taste coconutty enough, or do you want to add a little more extract? Have an easy hand with the stuff, it’s powerful. Mix in the toasted coconut. 

Yeah, I’m serious, that was the whole of the filling instructions. I told you this was ridiculously easy. 

Bake: Pour your filling (carefully) into the pie crust, and cover the edges of your pie crust so it doesn’t burn (I use tin foil, but they do make fancy pie shields). I like to put it on a jelly roll pan so it’s easier for me to take in and out of the oven. You’re going to bake it at 375F for about 30-40 minutes, but the real test is: if you shake it a little, is it set at the sides but with a little wiggle in the center? That’s when it’s done. 

Let it cool totally. 

Topping! Beat your cold cream and pudding mix together, adding the powdered sugar slowly. I start with a quarter cup and work my way up until it’s as sweet as I like. I prefer a harder peak for this, but soft peaks are acceptable if you enjoy that more. Decorat with your topping choices! 

GO WIN A FUCKIN ROSETTE

Please tell me if you made this! If you found this really helpful and would like to leave me a tip, my ko-fi is here!

[hexbimbo]

DBD Favorite Food HC:

Survivors

Dwight Fairfield

Cheese Pizza.

No more no less.

Thinks pepperoni is “too spicy.”

Pizza What! Had 25% lifetime employee discount.

Meg Thomas

Doesn’t particularly care about her diet as much due to her active lifestyle.

Probably needs more calories than the average person because she’s always on the move.

A good hearty veggie burger is enough for Meg.

Claudette Morel

Ham and Cheese Sandwich.

No crust, untoasted, on white bread.

Toasted bread makes her teeth hurt.

Cut into triangles for maximum efficiency.

Jake Park

In the ~lore~ he is shown to have affinity for Korean Barbecue Ribs.

Really enjoys smoked meats and canned veggies

Canned Artichokes. Boom.

Nea Karlson

Energy drinks.

Probably consumed with some rock candy for extra ✨sizzle✨.

Has attempted to down a can and crush it with her forehead (failed)

Laurie Stroade

Apple pie.

Something all American and sweet.

A nice dollop of vanilla ice cream too please!

Ace Visconti

Would probably tell you some fancy name that makes you feel broke.

More likely a home cooked meal by his Mom

Thinks that high rollers shouldn’t be associated with low class dishes of a foreign country.

I’ll go with Alfajores. Especially the ones dipped with a little chocolate.

William “Bill” Overbeck

Tv dinner with a cold beer

Preferably a Salisbury steak one 🔥🔥🔥

Over boiled canned peas with a slice of buttered bread ain’t bad either.

Feng Min

Candy and chips seems too obvious yknow?

~Lore~ also mentions her being an alcoholic but that’s not really a “favorite” is it?

Probably sponsored a limited edition soft drink that she really liked.

David King

Toad in the hole.

“Classic British “cuisine””

Surprisingly not a fan of a good chippy

Too much oil for his diet

Quentin Smith

Yknow those hard candies in strawberry wrapping old people give on Halloween?

Those

Those 💯

Especially ones with little soft center

David Tapp

Chinese food.

Crab Rangoons was always his go too.

Especially slathered in duck sauce. (Sweet and sour)

Kate Denson

Sun flower seeds.

Perfect snack for wildness jam seshs.

Would be trail mix if she didn’t only eat the chocolate.

Adam Francis

Connivence store meals

Have you see the pre-made meal game in Japan?

~Lore~ mentions that he enjoyed spending his weekends at high end restaurants too.

Big fan of Japanese food.

Jeffery “Jeff” Johansen

Pancakes. Maybe with some blueberry if he’s feeling fancy.

Nice slab of butter in between each layer.

Likes the syrup to soak into a the pancakes for a bit.

Beard definitely catches the sticky crumbs.

Jane Romero

Grilled Chicken and Beet Salad.

Sprinkle some walnuts and goat cheese for extra yummy flavor.

Probably enjoyed with a tasty raspberry or apple vinaigrette.

Ashley J. Williams

Edibles.

Relax kid! He’s just joshing ya’!

Cow tails are pretty groovy.

But he wouldn’t say no to a few special brownies.

Nancy Wheeler

She looks boring as hell

Vanilla ice cream with cherry shell.

Not that flavorful but sweet enough it’s a treat.

Steve Harrington

Root beer float.

Mid tbh.

Enjoys the idea of sharing it with someone via two straws at a sleepy diner.

Yui Kimura

Street food.

Takoyaki to be specific.

Her gang spent a lot of time muscling about in the narrow streets of Tokyo. Easy access to cheap and piping hot food.

Likes eating with her hands.

Zarina Kassir

Felt like she wasn’t as appreciative of her “foreign” lunches as she could’ve been as a kid.

Makes an effort to recreate her childhood meals but lacks the “mom touch.”

Always on the move for the next big story, this film maker enjoys celery and carrots.

Cheryl Mason

Dry Cereal.

Just something to pick at through out the day.

Not too sweet either. Something whole grain works for her.

Felix Richter

Heavily salted potato salad.

Boil some proses till tender, throw in some mayo, lemon juice, parsley, dash of sugar, salt ‘n pepper and you, my friend, have got it ON 🔥🔥🔥

The side dish you’re forced to try but end up digging.

Élodie Rakoto

Hachis Parmentier. Served with a cucumber salad.

“Classic French “cuisine.””

About as tasty as you would expect.

Easy to prepare and easy to eat. (Kinda)

Yun- Jin Lee

Fancy foods for the fancy lady.

Western food has a soft spot in her cold, unfeeling heart.

Mushroom risotto and seared scallops.

Jill Valentine

BLT hold the mayo.

Wavy chips make a good side.

Maintains a firm diet.

Leon S. Kennedy

I raise you one: Ham, Cheese, Egg croissant.

Breakfast, lunch, and dinner all in one.

And available at many fast food places.

Had one with a runny egg yoke and - lord.

Mikaela Reid

Lavender Matcha Boba.

Her tastes buds soared.

Too bad it was a limited time promotional item.

Jonah Vasquez

Caesar Salad Wrap with Ranch.

Maybe with a small lil fruit cup.

Overall very healthy 👍.

Yoichi Asakawa

Hamburg with cheese.

I don’t really know a lot about him tbh.

Seems like he has a well balanced diet.

Probably eats it with a cabbage garnish.

Haddie Kaur

Eggs.

Fried eggs served over spiced watermelon rinds are 👌.

Can’t go wrong with an eggs and cheese.

Ada Wong

I can’t really imagine her eating??

My mind says she probably collects antique wine but I can’t really picture her drinking either.

I’ll go with mussoli.

Rebecca Chambers

Macarons!

Expensive? Yes. Shareable? Also yes!

“Oh! Those look just like a smiling hamburger!”

Vittorio Toscano

Cheese and bread.

Maybe- MAYBE a little watered down wine.

Not like a charcuterie board. More Skyrim “going ham on a wheel of cheese and bread”.

Thalita Lyra

Grilled Pineapple.

Dusted with some brown sugar and grilled on an open flame is 🤤.

Likes it tender. Undercooked, firm pineapple makes her sad.

Renato Lyra

Rice. Rice never changes.

Goes well with cheesy stroganoff.

Wash it down with a fizzy drink.

Probably doesn’t eat much else tbh. Classic ‘Tism 😎

Gabriel Soma

Due to his memories being fake it’s hard to tell if he actually likes the food or just THINKS he likes it.

Probably likes hotdogs.

His Mom would always get him some to nom on during baseball game.

Hates pork hotdogs.

Nic Cage

Apparently is irl favorites are KFC and champagne.

Sounds about right.

Seems like a memer and would get a baja blast if his kids suggested it.

Ellen Ripely

Freeze dried ice cream sandwiches.

Or crackers.

Likes the crunch and long shelf life both can provide.

Alan Wake

Scrambled eggs, buttered toast, and black coffee.

You ever such a rough morning you gotta process what’s on your plate for 10 minutes?

Likes his eggs salty.

Sable Ward

DIY spooky treats!

“Mummy Dogs” are croissant wrapped hotdogs and “candied eyeballs” are tangulu grapes.

Probably had an edgy phase of “only liking black coffee.”

“How can you even enjoy the natural taste of coffee with all that sugar and milk??”

Killers:

Evan McMillian

Boiled Dinner.

Throw some cabbage, pastrami, and bacon in bag with some seasonings.

(Read: salt and pepper).

Delicious for 1800 palettes.

Phillip Ojomo

Canned beans.

Eating them straight from the can hit different after a long day of crushing cars.

Knows how to open any can with a spoon alone.

Max Thompson Jr

Biscuits and Gravy.

Was usually served the slop version as a kid.

Tries to re-create it a bit more “not bad”.

Sally Smithson

Johnny cakes.

Probably also likes food with not okay names.

Like “Injun Bread” 🫤.

Micheal Myers

Chips and Cola.

Eats more to survive than for comfort.

A lot of victims tend to be teenagers relaxing on Halloween with an assortment of junk food goodies.

Chips in bowl and a half empty cup of cola are very tasty snacks when he’s on the move.

Lisa Sherwood

I’m not sure if it’s ever explicitly said but I head-cannon her as being from New Orleans.

Craw fish is tried and true banger.

Even in her “Hag” form, she enjoys slurping them up raw.

Herman Carter

Black Coffee.

Wakes up early to enjoy some time alone with his mug.

Maybe dips a crostini in.

Anna

Bear.

Anna likes her food in a very particular way, almost OCD with her eating habits.

Refuses to eat until she “earns” the right to eat.

Bear is the perfect challenge.

Bubba Sawyer

Chili.

Add a dollop of cheddar jack cheese on top for a pop of color.

Likes dipping bread into it.

No spoon required.

Freddy Krueger

Apple slices.

A nice juicy apple was refreshing on a hot summers day working in the garden.

Now, the juices sting his skin.

Amanda Young

Fast food.

If you ever worked the morning shift at a fast food place yknow the crack heads be jonesing out in the corner booth.

Post Recovery, I think greasy fast food helps settle her stomach.

Jeffery Hawk

Corn dogs if he’s mad, cotton candy if he’s sad.

Or both if you wanna meet an early grave.

Either way, eats way too much for his body to properly digest and often is constipated.

Rin Yamaoka

Natto.

Sticky fermented beans beloved by Japan.

Kinda icky but it’s a staple there.

Frank, Julie, Susie, Joey

Frank likes hot chocolate.

Julie likes loaded fries.

Susie likes sprinkles.

Joey likes red slushies.

Adris

Mutton and dates.

A holy meal for a holy woman.

Not too sure if the Babylonians had honey ( I think they did) she’d probably slather it on.

Danny Johnson

French fries.

Perfect finger food while typing up the next big story.

Tries dipping it in the blood of his victims to be “edgy.”

Decided against it as it could implement him to the crimes (credit card, receipts, DNA etc).

Demogorgan

Enjoys nibbling on plants.

More of a sensory thing than taste.

They tickle all the right places in its mouth.

Kazan Yamaoka

Pickled Veggies

Great for traveling and very nutritious .

Probably would be a meat dish but I’d imagine he was very disciplined with his diet.

Caleb Quinn

Lambs Fry.

Also likes snacking on bar peanuts.

His favorite part is the eye ball.

Pyramid Head

I don’t think he can eat.

Doesn’t he have a tongue??

Likes flicking it over the inside of his helmet.

Likes the metallic taste of rust.

Talbot Grimes

Haggis.

“Classic Scottish “cuisine””.

Would cry eating it as child.

Also likes hibiscus tea for the anti oxidants ☝️.

Charlotte and Victor Deshayes

Food was hard to come by growing up.

Survived off of scraps.

One time they were lucky to come across very tasty meat.

Their mom said it was “honeyed” whatever that meant.

Ji-woon Hak

Champagne.

Definitely pours it over himself to watch it stream through his abs.

Enjoys dropping a fruit in to dive after.

Nemesis T-Type

Nemesis is technically a meat suit being piloted by a parasite (that’s what his tentacle thing is.)

Kinda feeds off the body it’s piloting.

Like a fungi to a tree (which is bananas, look it up.)

Elliot Spencer

Scabs.

Especially likes the thicker variety that peel clean off.

Bonus points if it’s has that soft, goey white stuff in it.

Carmina Mora

Caldino de congrio.

Hot as fuck.

Eel hits different.

Sadako Yamamura

Rice.

Nothing special.

A plain bowl of rice lightly salted is a good meal in itself.

Maybe a peice of unseasoned fish.

Dredge

Fingernails.

Enjoys chewing on its “hands” and hearing that sweet, sweet crunch.

Sometimes chews on the fingernails of deceased survivors to see if it can taste what they’ve previously eaten.

Albert Wesker

Sultans Delight.

A creamy eggplant mixture topped with some braised lamb.

Doesn’t really take the time to enjoy it.

Give him 7 minutes tops.

Tarhos Kovács

Preserved fish.

The extremely salted filets cook up real quick for a tasty dish.

Was always a treat when he found a barrel of them in his raids.

Adrianna Imai

Guarana.

Enjoys it especially as a mixer.

Her mini fridge is always stocked with some.

HUX-A7-13

“Eating” is an organic thing.

No thanks.

Does have a favorite type of electricity.

Enjoys the smell of carbon.

Xenomorph

Human.

As an apex predators, Aliens enjoy killing everything that catches their eye.

I imagine our Alien in particular developed a taste for human flesh.

Charles Lee Ray

Swedish Meatballs.

Some meatballs are better than others.

But they like, gotta be seasoned super well. Not like a dash of Italian herbs and you call it day.

Unknown

Bone marrow.

Likes to suck them out of chicken bones.

Or human bones.

[jessfandrawer]

Have any Jinko headcanons 👀?

Hmm, no one's really asked for my headcanons before... 🤔 Apologies if this runs long. It's mostly Jin's side of things too, since we know a lot about Zuko already.

Jin is technically a war refugee, but was too young to remember much about fleeing to Ba Sing Se. In her mind, she'd never truly lived anywhere else. She'd never met a firebender before "Li" (Lee?), and hadn't had any bad experiences with the Fire Nation (that she remembered) until Azula seized control of the city.

The one, short AtLA comic where Jin appeared is not canon to me; I don't think they saw each other again before the war ended. Jin was hurt by Zuko running off, so she stayed away from the teashop. When she had the courage to go back, "Li" and "Mushi" no longer worked there. She dated around a bit, had one or maybe 2 serious relationships, but always found herself comparing them to that one memorable date.

Jin found out who Zuko really was by seeing an illustration of his face on a news bulletin or announcement poster. This comic I drew happens.😆 Zuko convinces the Earth King to make the Firelight Fountain a protected landmark.

After they officially decide to date (unless you take the reunite as elders after a lifetime apart track), they keep it secret until having what amounts to a "vacation-only relationship" wears on them. Zuko then invites Jin to stay at the Fire Palace for a spell. She loves it, but struggles to be accepted by the Fire Nation upper-crust (she wins them over). As Fire Lady, I think her strengths would be: diplomacy (with the Earth Kingdom especially), supporting refugees and impoverished citizens, and helping the Fire Lord loosen up.

Jin takes on many different jobs across her young adult years, but eventually decides to become a ceramics artist. Zuko helps with her pieces sometimes.🔥

As a final aside, I don't ascribe to the "Jin is Mako and Bolin's grandmother" theory. For one, her name is Yin, not Jin, and remembering Jin's name is as easy as popping on Tales of Ba Sing Se. If the LoK production team truly intended for them to be the same person, there's no excuse for the name mix up. And secondly, being a wildly devoted Earth Kingdom royalist is not the future I'd prefer for Jin.

Thanks for asking, @pedanticat ! Most of this isn't very cute, whoops.😅