#especially pasta with creamy sauce

[hellodahliah]

what's your favorite food? ^^

pasta 🍝

[guppybibi]

ᯓᡣ𐭩 | How does the TF141 love? (as food!)

John Price loves like a plate of carbonara 𓐐

It's one of the most beloved Italian pasta dishes out there, just like how he loves you the most! It's a simple dish yet it's hard to perfect, but you learn not to make the same mistakes afterwards. That's what's so nice about it, it isn't perfect. It never is, but even that is something to be cherished. Some of the choices made are questionable to say the least but he doesn't question them any further, he was one of your choices after all. (i have no idea how this connects to carbonara but do u see my vision, the choices are like ingredients..) Spaghetti is the most common pasta to be used in carbonara, outshining the less frequently used rigatoni & bucatini. And who can blame them? It's a timeless classic, a staple. (Just like you two;3) Spaghetti was notably long as well before shorter lengths gained some popularity! You know what else is long? Your prosperous relationship together! (Let's not talk about the creamy sauce.)

Simon Riley loves like a box of chocolates 🍫

It's assorted too! White, milk, dark, name it all! It's no problem-o! It's a surprise in every bite, or swallow but please chew your food. It's a whole new experience every time, it's thrilling. It could be filled with delectable chocolatey sauce, oozing out once you take the first bite! It's sweetness overload, reminding you of the sweet moments you and him have together. Then, the next chocolate has..nuts! Yum, these are a teensy weensy harder to chew especially if you have the teeth of a grandma..Like how it was just a little bit hard to get Simon to open up, to let you in. But sometimes the chocolates disappoint and have a hollow inside :C

John MacTavish loves like a bucket of popcorn🍿

Corn was domesticated in Mexico, a memorable place for Johnny to say the least. A lot happened there..During the early years, it was popped by hand but as we can see now it's popped by machines. How is that significant? Well, it shows how your relationship evolves. It's being nurtured like a little baby by the two of you after all! It gets more efficient, the both of you doing your own part in smoothing the bumps along the road. It's often eaten at movie theaters and sporting events, and what do those places have in common with this man? One word, fun! (This or he could also be pop rocks to be honest idk)

Kyle Garrick loves like a bowl of strawberries 🍓

A strawberry flower averages 5-7 petals according to a website, if you do the 'he loves me, he loves me not' game–you'll always land on the love one! (He purposely takes out the ones with 6 petals, or he plucks them off individually.) Or if he doesn't have time to do all of that, you guys resort to 'he loves me, he loves me lots' because that's just the wholehearted truth! Though strawberries don't always taste as good as they seem, no? Especially if they're out of season, yuck! Again, there's always some sour ones in the batch, but it's no use crying about it. So, you and him just fix it!

[sporadicthingcollection]

The Unskinny Bop (Buggy the Clown x F!Reader)

Summary: You're a really good cook and that's most of the problem. The rest of it is that he's too weak-willed to resist a treat right in front of him. Pairing: Buggy the Clown x F!Reader Rating: 🌶 Explicit 🌶 Word Count: ~6.1k Warnings: Body insecurity (male and female), cunnilingus, masturbation, PiV sex A/N: Dad Bod Buggy my beloved

---

She's playing all night And the music's all right Mama's got a squeeze box And Daddy never sleeps at night

---

It's his own damn fault, really.

He's the one who charmed the pretty diner cook — that’d be you — into joining his crew. It was an easy sell. You get off of the little podunk island you’re stuck on and he gets those delicious little puffy pastry things every morning.

What he didn’t expect was how well you made everything else. He's had to let his pants out three times in two months because of it.

Fluffy pancakes, perfectly slung hash, and a pie-looking thing with eggs and vegetables and cheese you called a “keesh” for breakfast. Sandwiches stuffed with veggies and meat, piles of pasta tossed in rich sauce, and thick slabs of juicy steak for dinner. Not to mention the mountains of snacks and treats in between.

He came to realize that food is a key aspect of your personality. It's just what you do. A dog chases its tail, Richie pushes things off of tables, and you flit around the deck like a pastry pixie, abducting people into the galley for taste-testing. 

Like right now.

His only warning that you're coming is a chirped “Captain!” before he's yanked through the door. He doesn't even have time to react before you've shoved a spoonful of something into his mouth.

He's not surprised. You do it to everyone who walks in. Food is how you show affection.

“Whaddya think?” you ask.

He swallows it too quickly to make a judgment, but it's sweet and that's all he needs to know. “Tasty.”

Every time you smile, he swears a flashbulb goes off somewhere. “Good,” you say. “It'll be even better tomorrow.”

He doesn't even bother to hide the whine. “What?”

“They're icebox pies, silly goose,” you say. “You gotta let ���em chill.”

Another thing about you is that you're a tease. Form-fitting blouses done up just a button too short and your hair pulled back to show off your soft shoulders. A sweet little wink and a touch of the shoulder as you place a plate in front of him. And now feeding him something delicious only to tell him he has to wait until tomorrow to have more.

Your fingers snapping in front of his face jolt him back to the present. “Huh?”

“I asked if you wanted to lick the spoon,” you say.

Does he wanna lick the spoon? What kind of question is that? He plucks it from your hands. “Is the sky blue? Do bears shit in the woods? Am I the captain?”

You roll your eyes, but you smile. “Gonna stick these in the big cooler and I'll be right back for the other,” you say.

Carefully, you pick up two of the three foil-covered pie tins resting on the counter and turn on your heel.

He watches you closely as you round the corner and out of sight. Such a nice soft ass you've got. He desperately wants to grab it, but the one time you got goosed, you slugged the guy so hard he was out cold for the rest of the day.

Something pink, creamy, and flecked with seeds coats the wooden spoon. He drags his tongue along the back of it and--

Oh. Oh, that is good.

His taste buds scream in ecstasy. The slightest little moan escapes his lips. For the briefest of moments, he thinks it's better than sex and his cock twitches, but he regains his sense of self before going completely mad.

He licks and licks and licks until every little drop of pink, sweet, creamy filling is gone.

Frustration bubbles in his chest. Waiting all night for this is gonna suck. Especially since you probably won't be whipping it out for breakfast.

He is captain, though. He could order you to give it to him. But you'd almost certainly laugh in his face and he really, really doesn't want that.

The shimmer of foil catches his eye. The third pie sits on the counter. Untouched. Uneaten. Mocking him in its creamy deliciousness.

He looks around. You're nowhere to be seen.

...maybe just a little bit.

He scrapes barely half a spoonful from the top. Not enough to be noticeable, just enough to satisfy his sweet tooth.

Mmm. Smooth. Thick. Sweet. Fruity. Delicious.

...a little bit more can't hurt. Then he can wait until tomorrow.

He gets a piece of the fruit itself this time and the squirt of juice on his tongue is enough to make him spoon up another dollop. And then another. And then another.

This is why your pants are so tight, his inner monologue chides. This is why you need a new belt. This is why you wear that thing around your waist. Goddamn hedonist.

They're not that tight, he retorts. And they wouldn't be at all if you weren't such a damn good cook. It's all your fault for putting delicious food in front of him and looking so pretty while doing it.

He turns to lean against the counter, only to stop dead.

You're standing there, eyes wide and brows raised. You point at him, then at the pie tin, then back at him. “Are you... Eating the...?”

“No,” he says quickly. He realizes he's holding the pie tin. “No.”

Something odd glints in your eyes as you approach him. Gingerly, you take the pie and the spoon from his hands. He lets you. You step even closer.

You're so close to him, close enough for him to feel the rise and fall of your breasts. Hell, you're so short compared to him that he can see straight down your shirt.

His heart races. What are you going to do? Throw it out? Throw him out? Punch his lights out? Never speak of this again? 

To his amazement, you do none of those things. Instead, you spoon up a bit more of the pie filling and raise it to his lips. You blink up at him with big doe eyes.

He looks between you and the spoon a few times. This can't be right. You should be furious. He opens his mouth to say something, but it's forgotten as you shove the spoon in his mouth.

Why are strawberries so delicious? Why is he so weak? Why are your breasts so warm and squishy against him?

He swallows it and, as he opens his mouth to breath, you shove another spoonful in. It's just as good the twentieth time.

You offer him another. And another. And another. He accepts them all.

Until he goes to take another and you pull it away. He frowns at you. You pull it back farther and farther. He grabs your wrist and pulls your hand closer. You resist, but he's spent every day of his life trimming sails and hauling cargo.

He gets the spoon into his mouth and claims his prize with a smirk.

That glint in your eyes turns into a blaze. You drop the pie tin and spoon and they hit the floor with a clatter. Pulling your wrist from his grip, you grab him by the cheeks and yank him into a kiss.

He yelps against your lips and you take the opportunity to shove your tongue between them. Licking, lapping, pressing your soft, warm body right up against his.

Only a eunuch could resist this.

He kisses you back with the same fervor, grabbing your ass to lift you up a bit and it's so soft and pliant and perfect that he can't help but dig his fingers in.

Oh, it's everything he dreamed it would be. Your warm lips moving against his, your slick tongue dancing in his mouth, your soft palms gripping his jaw.

You've lapped up all the lingering sweetness in his mouth by the time he runs out of breath. He pushes you away and you whimper, your eyes wide and your shoulders heaving up and down.

Deprived of oxygen, he says something completely, absolutely, utterly brain dead. “Can I touch your tits?”

Instead of slapping him, you nod so hard your updo shakes loose. Curly strands fall in your face.

He blinks. “Wait, really?” You nod harder. “You sure?”

Something in you snaps. He can see it in your eyes. You grab him by the hand and damn near drag him out the door.

A quick trip up the stairs and across the main deck and he's pushing open the door to his quarters. You bustle past him and, once the click of the lock sounds, you grab him by the collar and yank him into another kiss, just as wet and desperate as the last.

He barely has enough time to shuck his coat about you throw him onto the bed, clambering atop him. You're a bit heavier than he expects. Not that he says that to your face, but you’re so light on your feet that he was starting to think you were filled with cotton candy. You're certainly sweet enough.

You yank his hat from his head and toss it aside. His bandana follows and his hair falls around his shoulders.

You suck in a breath. “So pretty.”

He shrugs. “Thanks-- mmph.”

He’s silenced by you standing on your knees to pull his hair out of its pigtails. This requires you to stick your tits in his face and oh my god they're like big marshmallows you smell like cinnamon.

He can't help himself. He wraps his arms around you and pulls you in closer, breathing deeply. So warm, so soft.

You giggle and the vibration makes his face tingle. You pull away to fiddle with your blouse buttons. “Wanna know a secret?” you whisper.

“Is the secret boobs?” Wow, what the hell was that? He needs to stop talking.

Lucky for him, you grin. You open your blouse and a whole lot more than he was expecting spills out. You toss the blouse to the side and plant your hands on your hips. “Va-va-voom.”

He's speechless. Shaken. Struck utterly dumb by the sight before him. All he can do is pull off his gloves and take them in his hands, pushing them, weighing them, squeezing them. There’s just… so much. Round, squishy, bouncy, threatening to surge right out of your lacy bra.

“I am but one man,” he mumbles.

That makes you giggle and that makes them jiggle. Like two sacks of...like a pair of...

...he can't think of a metaphor that isn't unpleasant, so he just sticks his face in there again before something else stupid comes out of his mouth. You laugh even more and it vibrates against his cheeks and his -- that... -- and if God struck him down at this very second he would die a happy man.

You let him linger a moment before throwing your weight forward to push him onto the bed. He whimpers like a kicked puppy as you pull away.

You nibble your lip and knit your brow up as you fumble with his belt. “I showed you mine, now you show me yours.”

He's flattered, but it's the only thing keeping his stomach in check. That can't come off yet.

He takes your hands in his own. “What's the rush, beautiful?” he says. He brings them to his lips, first one, then the other. He gently kisses your knuckles, your palms, your wrists. “This is your show. We got all night.”

You're cute when you huff. You're even cuter when your face screws up into a pout. You yank your hands away and plant them on your soft hips. “Do you have any idea how long I've been waiting for this?” you whine.

That throws him for a loop and a half. You've wanted him too? Someone as clever and cute and talented as you wanted... him? He's not used to that. Not used to that at all.

He's stunned just long enough for you to get his belt open. You move on to his vest straps next, making quick work of those. He sucks his stomach in just as you pull it open.

Your eyes widen, and you break into a grin as they sweep up and down his torso. “Oh, hell-o,” you say, voice breathless.

He's bright red, he just knows it. “Hi,” he replies dumbly. He hopes the strain in his voice isn't too obvious.

You grin even wider. Your fingers ghost up his sides -- thank God it's his feet that are ticklish -- right up to his pecs. You give them a squeeze, not unlike how he palmed your breasts a few moments ago. The slightest of squeaks escapes him.

“I knew you were hiding something good,” you say. You give his nipples a tweak -- he squeaks louder -- and trail your fingers down to his waistband. “Let's see what else you've been keeping from me.”

He knows you're talking about his dick. He panics all the same.

He shoots a hand out to kill the light -- that should buy him some time -- and throws his weight into flipping you over. You squeal as he pins you to the bed and yanks your pants off.

And then he realizes. Your breasts? They're proportional.

Beneath him is the most lovely expanse of body he's ever seen. Soft and warm and squishy and made of convex curves that flow from gentle arms and smooth shoulders right into a pair of plump hips and shapely thighs.

He can't form words. He can't form thoughts. All he can do is stare with his mouth dropped open. What else can you do when you're in the presence of the divine?

And then he sees your face. Your eyes wide and unsure as they dart around the room. Your lips pressed together into a terse line. 

“What?” he asks.

The line scrunches to the side. “I'm bigger than I ought to be, I know,” you say. You sound as if you've said it a thousand times.

He gets mad. He can't help it. It's what he does. “Are you shitting me?”

You flinch a little, though more out of surprise than fear. “N-No, I don't--”

He wants to say so many things. About how this is perfection. About how you are the most gorgeous human being he's ever laid eyes on. About how this is everything he's ever wanted in life. How you're everything and you shouldn't be so damn sheepish.

But he can't get it out. All that comes out is a raspy, rude, “Shut the fuck up.”

You stare at him in shock. And not the fun shock. It's the kind where you're not sure if you've stepped on eggshells or not.

Fuck it. No time for words. He grabs your thighs and pulls you forward, yanking your panties off and sweet holy shit you don't shave down there how could you possibly be any more perfect?

His mouth waters. His cock throbs. He dives in. He drags his tongue up your inner thighs, soft and smooth and sweet as that pie.

“Captain--!” A nip to the tender flesh turns the exclamation into a squeak.

“I said shut up,” he says between kisses.

Finally, you stop talking. You only pant and moan as he shoves his face into your pussy, lapping at your already sopping cunt. Did he do this? Are you this wet because of him?

He can't help it. He stuffs his hand down the front of his pants to fondle himself. Like the desperate bastard he is, his cock’s hard and leaking already.

He grinds against his palm as he gorges himself on you. Licking, sucking, swirling, punctuating with a few nips for good measure. It's all harmonized by the most beautiful sounds he's ever heard flowing from your lips, high-pitched and whiny.

He's not sure how long has passed when you grab his head and push him away. Time flows strangely between your thighs.

You've got a crazed look in your eyes again. “I want you inside me.”

He wants to say something clever, something cool and on brand for him, like it's not time for the finale yet or but my leading lady isn't satisfied.

But that would delay being inside you and he's too addled to think of anything. He jumps to his feet and wriggles out of his trousers and shorts. If he were more aware of himself, he'd be humiliated by just how much he has to shimmy and dance around to get them off his hips, but there's not enough blood in his brain to be self-conscious.

He kicks them away in whatever direction. Something crashes to the floor and he doesn't care. He looks back to your beautiful face--

You're wide-eyed as you look at him. He follows your gaze, right down to his--

In all the excitement, he's not sucking it in anymore.

Now it's his turn to be sheepish. He sucks it in again. But he can't hold it. Too much blood in his cock. He tries again with the same result.

Unfortunately for him, it's drawn your attention even more. Off comes your bra, and you don't take your eyes off his stomach the whole time.

Now he really can't think anymore. They're just so pretty and perfect. You're so pretty and perfect. He doesn't deserve this. This is a hell of a mismatch if ever there was one. You, divinity in the flesh. Him, a fat, dirty old clown.

This is a joke. It has to be. Someone put you up to this and now you're gonna back out and he's gonna let you because you deserve better so he better just rip the bandage off now and--

“Out,” he spits. “Get out.”

You blink at him in shock, then your face hardens. You speak with the firmness of a queen who's sick of her courtiers’ bullshit. “Get over here and get on top of me.”

You're mocking him. You gotta be. There’s no other explanation. “I said--”

You look him in the eyes. Something dangerous glitters there. “Buggy, get the fuck on top of me.”

It comes out at a hoarse yell. “Stop mocking me!”

You spring upwards and, with that wild strength that surprises him every time, you throw him on the bed. It squeaks as he bounces -- actually, that might have come from him.

You've got a look on your face he can only describe as murderous. “I did not wait two months for you to chicken out,” you say. You clamber onto him. “I did not wait two fucking months for you to finally man up and say something only for you to get self-conscious!”

Fear, anger, and arousal battle for control of his body. Arousal wins. You are hot as a griddle when you're mad.

You sit yourself on his belly, just above his cock. It twitches against your ass and he's sure it's made of clouds and he groans.

“Look at me,” you say.

He doesn't. He can't. He doesn't want to see the scorn that's surely in your eyes.

You learn forward and grab his chin, squeezing his cheeks and forcing him to look. Even in the dim light, he can see the sheen of sweat on your face and the rise and fall of your chest as you pant.

“If you want me to leave, I will,” you say, “but you will never get this chance again.”

No. No no no no. He wants you. He wants you so bad. He's never had perfection this close and it's never wanted him as much as you seem to.

“Do you want me to leave?” you ask firmly.

He shakes his head so hard it hurts.

You don't grin. You simply release his chin and lift yourself up. You lower yourself on his cock and, as he watches it disappear, inch by slick inch into your hot, wet pussy, the battle is over.

He doesn't care if this is a trick anymore. He's going to get his.

He grabs your thighs and pulls you down onto him, fingers sinking into the smooth flesh. You gasp as he bottoms out, gripping the swell of his hips. He doesn't care. They're called love handles for a reason.

And then you start to bounce.

It starts in your legs. Pumping your thighs to lift yourself up and drop down onto his cock. The jolt ripples through your whole body, from your thighs to your belly to your breasts.

He's transfixed. So transfixed that he doesn't even notice you grabbing his pecs, squishing and squashing them between your gentle fingers. You tweak his nipples and he damn near howls.

He can't let you have all the fun. He pops his hand off to swirl his fingers around your clit.

But you don't cry out or moan. You start babbling. Something about eating and how hot he is and how much you love that he loves your cooking and it's all interspersed with pleasant-sounding gibberish. But he doesn't hear a word of it. You're too warm and slick and it goes in one ear and it the other.

But the sounds. God, the sounds of him sliding in and out of you. Wet and disgusting and it makes his mouth water and his cock leak and that just makes it wetter--

The slap of skin on skin and wet on wet and his moans and your chattering all mingle into a delicious symphony. 

But it stops all too soon. Your breath hitches and you bend at the waist, singing his name like a songbird, the same little melody over and over. “Buggy, Buggy, Buggy...!”

His name dissolves into little yips and gasps as your cunt flutters around his cock. It's so good. Better than treasure. Better than adrenaline. Better than a full belly after a hard day's work--

He realizes he's not wearing a condom. Fuck. “Where ya want it?” he grunts.

You don't hesitate. “In me,” you say between gasps.

In you? Inside you? Spilling his hot, wet cum into your hot, wet cunt? Your cunt? Soaking it? Seeding it? Making it even messier and sloppier and filling you up so much that--

He almost pops right then and there, but he bites his lip. “Nuh-uh. Where?”

“In me!” you spit.

He whines the most unmanly of whines. He will. He won't. He wants to. He can't. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.

“Captain,” you whimper, “Buggy, please...”

He looks up at you. Your hands on his chest, your breasts heaving with each breath, your little belly rising and falling, your luscious thighs on either side of his hips, your lips dropped open as you pant, your bush surrounding his fingers--

God damn it.

He throws you to the side as he pops like a champagne cork. A few drops end up on you, but most of it splatters onto the underside of his belly, where it's started obeying gravity.

One hand grips the sheets and the other grips something warm and his hips buck and his head swims and his mouth makes utterly pathetic noises. Yes yes yes yes yes yes yes.

He crashes back to earth like a meteor strike. All he can see is white as he flops back onto the mattress, gasping for breath.

He has no idea how long it takes for him to recover. But something soft tickles the knuckles of his detached hand. A shudder racks him as he turns his head towards you.

Post-orgasm haze still clouds your eyes, but they're big and round as a doe’s as you cradle his hand close to his face. You press your lips to his knuckles.

He gives a weak smile. “Hi.”

You giggle. God, he loves that giggle. He wishes he could hear it every day. He'd put it in a sea shell if he could, carry it around in his pocket and press it to his ear whenever he feels lonely. Or spin it into cotton candy. It's certainly light and sweet enough. Or whip it up onto a foam and fold it into batter like he watched you do that one time for cake...

His stomach growls. He needs to stop thinking about food.

You kiss his knuckles again, still smiling so very sweetly. “Are you alright?”

“Fuckin’ amazing,” he mumbles. It's the truth.

Detaching his other hand, he feels around on the floor. There's a towel here somewhere... Unless he threw it on the chair... Or over the folding screen...

He finds it slung over the door of his wardrobe. He offers it to you, but you shake your head. “After you.”

Suit yourself. He mops his belly up as you watch. Shit, this was a big one.

Satisfied, he tosses the towel away. He rolls over to take you in his arms, but he finds nothing. You're standing up, pulling his coat on and closing it around your front.

“Get over here,” he says. “That's an order.”

“I gotta clean up,” you say.

He panics. He can't help it. His voice quivers like a child's. “Don’t leave. Please.”

You give him a kind look that almost makes him cry. “I’ll be right back,” you coo. “I promise.”

He doesn't want to be alone. Not now. Tears prick at his eyes and his lip quivers. But you're out the door before he can stop you.

You're not coming back. He knows it. He disappointed you. How could he not? You're beautiful. You're divine. You're perfect.

And what is he? A fat old clown.

He lays there, shivering in the cold air, too afraid to move. Too aware of his shortcomings. Too aware of every flaw, every defect, every deficiency. His temper. His teeth. His nose. His appetite. His everything.

The door opens. The moonlight frames your silhouette for a moment before you close the door behind you.

He nearly sobs with relief. You don't notice, thankfully, as you shuck his coat.

He launches his arms at you as he sits upright, pulling you into an embrace as he falls back down. He lays you to the side, slipping under your arm and tucking his head in the crook between your chin and chest.

You thread your fingers through his hair. “Don't tell me you thought I wasn't coming back.”

He murmurs something he forgets as soon as it leaves his lips. You're so soft. So warm. So comfortable. And he's so exhausted.

You giggle. You kiss his forehead and slide your fingers through his hair. “Bonwee, sha.”

He has no idea what that means, but you say it with such warmth that it must be something good. He snuggles up close to you.

Rocked by the sea and calmed by your heartbeat, he drifts off.

---

He sleeps well, but he stirs a few times.

The first is when you shift out from under him, mumbling something in a language he can't place. You roll onto your side, your back to him. He doesn't like that at all and pulls you in to be the little spoon. You squeak. It's cute. He doesn't care that his belly presses against your back. 

He stirs again when his arm falls asleep and he rolls onto his side. You follow him this time. You press yourself right up against his back, breasts and belly and thighs squishing against him. You're so warm.

The final time is as the gray light of dawn slips through the windows. He's shaken from a dream and he grumbles.

“I gotta go get started on breakfast,” you whisper. “Just wanted to let you know I wasn't lovin’ and leavin’.”

That's so sweet of you. “You're so sweet,” he mumbles sweetly.

You giggle. “See you in a few hours.”

You kiss the tip of his nose and he's not even upset.

===

You had a lovely night, but you're walking a bit funny and it's making your usual bustling around the galley just difficult enough to be annoying. And the visions of your stark naked captain filling your head are making it even harder.

You're a very simple woman, like your mother before you. You like men. You like food. You like men who like food. You especially like men who like your food.

Captain Buggy's a man. Captain Buggy likes food. And he loves your food, if his constant hovering in the galley is anything to go on. And he loves it a lot and it's showing.

The memory of him lying beneath you, his warm hips against your thighs, his belly wobbling as you bounce atop him, his head thrown back in bliss, surprises you just as you're tossing a flapjack. It slams into the ceiling and stays there.

Your fellow cook, a swarthy fellow going by Bloomer, casts the new ceiling decor an odd look. He turns it on you. “You alright, girl?”

You know what? Screw this. Everyone else can handle breakfast. “I'm gonna go wake up the captain,” you say. “How's he like his coffee?”

Milk and two cubes of sugar, he tells you. You put in cream and three cubes. Man's gotta get his strength back from last night, you tell yourself as you set off across the deck. 

You knock three times on the door. No answer. You knock harder. Still nothing. You take that as a sign he may be dead and enter just in case.

Captain Buggy is, in fact, quite alive, if not also naked. He's in front of the mirror... or his face is, anyways. His body is turned completely around as he examines the reflection of his rear. He grabs a handful, thick fingers sinking into the squish. He gives it a jiggle and it wobbles.

You don't blame him. It's a great ass. Perfect for grabbing and digging your nails into. Next time, you're making him get on top so you can do just that. 

But you prefer his front. That's where all the good shit is. Soft, muscular pecs, perfect for grabbing and groping, covered in a dusting of hair that trails down to his soft belly.

His hands go there next, pinching his sides. He gives them a shake and his belly bounces. 

That little zing shoots up your gut and into your throat, that one you always get around men like him. That same one as when you first saw him from across the diner, draining a pitcher of beer. The same one you had last night when you walked in on him eating pie filling. And now, watching him preening after a wild romp.

...or you thought he was preening. He turns his body around and as his hands go to his face -- he's got a stronger jawline than you'd expected when he's barefaced -- you notice his laugh lines deepen. He lets out a grunt of disgust as his lips curl.

You frown. He's saying ugh as if you couldn't keep your hands off of him last night. Coaxing him in closer with pie filling just so you could feel his body molding against yours. Grabbing his cheeks and yanking him in for a kiss you'd been craving for months. Dragging him to his cabin and fucking yourself on him while you dug your nails into whatever soft flesh you could grab.

You close the door with a firm check of the hips. The slam startles him, but he calms as he sees you. Somewhat. There's still an uneasy look in his eye.

“G’morning,” he says. A little blush blooms across his cheeks. He avoids eye contact.

He'd be cute if he wasn't pathetic. You set the coffee down on the nearest surface and wrap your arms around his waist, resting your hands on the swell just above his hips and resting your cheek between his shoulder blades.

“Thank you for finally taking the hint,” you say into his skin.

He chuckles, a low, vibrating thrum. “I never miss a cue, baby.”

Lies. You've been trying everything. Flirting. Making his favorite food. You even went braless one day on a supply run with him and he didn't even blink. Idiot.

“Then why'd it take you so damn long?”

He scoffs. “Had to make sure I wasn't seeing things,” he mumbles.

He's so pathetic. Like a wet cat. You can't help but squeeze his sides--

He jumps away from you like you gave him an electric shock. “Stop it!” he spits.

You blink. “Stop what?”

“Stop-- Stop mocking me!”

You blink a few more times. “What the fuck are you talking about?”

The flush deepens along with his scowl. “Quit touching me like that.”

Not what he was saying last night. “Like what?”

“Stop grabbing my--” He huffs. “I know I’m fat. Quit rubbing it in.”

Pardon? Did you hear that correctly? Does he know who he's talking to? You try to keep your tone even, but you were never good at that. “Permission to speak freely, Captain?”

He blanches. “...No.”

Too bad. You grab him by the waist and throw him onto the bed. He yelps as he bounces, then once again as you straddle his waist.

“Buggy. Darling. Cher,” you say. “Do you really think I would have fucked you if I didn't think you were hot shit?”

He simmers like a boiling pot with the lid still on. “Maybe!”

Pour l’amour de Dieu, c’est un contraieuse et un tête de cabri et pourquoi ce clown so fucking stupid?

You scoot backwards, kissing your way down his chest. Each one gets a tiny grunt from him until you get to his belly. He growls and tries to roll away, but you hold fast. You gently kiss just above his navel, then the tuft of blue hair right below it.

You peer up at him. He peers back, brow knit up, questioning you.

You press your face into his navel and blow a raspberry against his skin.

Buggy squeal-laughs. You've never heard him make that noise before and it's very cute. You do it again and he devolves into laughter.

“Sto-o-op!” he cackles.

You do not. You do it again and again until he's wheezing and not scowling any more. You stare up at him, fingering the tuft of hair below his navel.

He comes down slowly, cackles turning to giggles to breathless gasps. He finally sees you staring. “What?”

“Feeling better?” you ask. He huffs, but he does nod. “Good. Now stop being mean to my favorite captain.”

He frowns a bit at that. “Who’s that? Alvida? When'd she come up?” You keep staring at him. He blinks. “Wait, you mean--?”

Gros couillion. “No, the other guy I fucked last night,” you say. He bristles. Fuck’s sake. “Yes, you!”

He blinks again. The flush returns. “You mean that?”

“I wouldn't be on top of your naked-ass body if I didn't.” You place lean in close, the tip of your nose bumping his. “And you have a very nice body, Captain.”

Just for emphasis, you grab his side, right at the fleshiest part, and give a hard squeeze. He jumps, but nods.

He tries to dive in for a kiss, but you pull away. If you do that, you'll be here all morning. You stand up, offering him your hands. “C’mon, breakfast is ready,” you say.

“I'm not hungry.” His stomach growls. He glares at it. “Shut up.”

Trump card time. “Guess I'll just have to feed all those beignets to Richie, then.”

His eyes go wide. “...you made bin-yays?”

He still can't pronounce it right, but he's getting there. “Sure did,” you say coolly. You examine your nails. “Won't be good for much longer.”

His stomach growls again. “And that pie?” 

“Should be good to go, but you better be quick. They'll go fast.”

He jumps to his feet and licks his lips. “Well, keep some for me! Lemme-- Lemme get dressed and I'll be right down.”

“Don't take too long,” you say.

You turn to leave, but he grabs your hand. With a yank and a twirl, he pulls you flush against him and into a kiss.

You melt right into it. Rough lips move against yours, his warm body molds against you, strong arms holding you tight, belly pressing against yours... his nose squishing into your cheek. Wonderful, all of it.

You separate with a pop. He grins at you and wipes his wrist along his lips. “Didn’t think I was gonna let you leave without that?”

You blush. Now he decides to be slick. “Just get dressed.”

You twirl him around and, with a flat hand, you swat his ass. Just to see it quiver. The slap echoes in the small room and he jumps, but you can't stick around to see the look on his face.

You've got work to do.

---

Special thanks to my bf, Meg, and Ollie for beta-ing!

To the Mastahpost | To the Tip Jar

[gilverrwrites]

Supernatural Taste and Smell Headcanons

I included a lot of characters (I think 24?), but if your fave didn't make the cut, just send me an ask!

Dean

Smell: Leather, cinnamon, and the kind of musk that only comes from an axe body spray, cause you know what man only buys whatever is quick and easy at the gas station. He’d also smell like gasoline.

Taste: Malty like beer, but sweet in the way bbq sauce is sweet.

Sam

Smell: I just feel like (when he’d not hunting) he smells clean, ya know? Citrusy and woody, kind of like D&G light blue, with undertones of like a ‘fresh’ scented fabric softener.

Taste: Kind of fruity but tart, like a berry smoothie.  Also just a little bit of like garlic, or mustard.

John

Smell: That man is a smoker, and you can’t tell me otherwise – at least later in life, way after the marines, and losing Mary. He always has a stale smoke smell on his clothes and lips. I recon he uses old spice or similar as an aftershave, so also like cloves/sage.

Taste: Again smoky, ashy, but also oaky and malty like bourbon.

Mary

Smell: Citrusy like Sam but darker, smokier (joke not intended) with hints of like jasmine, bergamot, and a little bit of vanilla. 100% the kind of smell that wraps you up if you come in for a hug.  

Taste: Chocolate, specifically the kinds with nuts and caramel, woman has a sweet tooth.

Castiel

Smell: I feel like all angels smell at least a little like parma violets, or some kind of sweet and subtle floral smell, be especially Cas. On top of that, he’d have like other earthy scentes, like honey,  patchouli, maybe a bit of amber.

Taste: Coffee, always coffee. When human/when he eats; grape jelly, and honey.

Jack

Smell: Like Cas he has the sort of clean, floral scent to him. I also think he would smell of peppermint and like a yankee candle version of warm vanilla. He just has a cosy, familiar smell to him.

Taste: Again I think minty, additionally like white chocolate and rose/flora flavours.

Bobby

Smell: Like old books, burnt candle wicks, motor oils, and nose hair singing whisky.

Taste: More than anyone else on this list (including Crowley) Bobby tastes like whisky. Not the good stiff though, that’s only for special occasions. He taste like Jim Beam and Jack Daniels.

Crowley

Smell: Like a bonfire!!! Smokey, warm, woody, with a hint of burnt sugar.

Taste: 100% Whisky, and dark chocolate.

Charlie

Smell: Charlie smells like she just stepped out of a fantasy book, like wildflowers, and peppercorn. Like strawberry and blackcurrant wine.

Taste: Like a vegan alternative to Nutella, creamy, chocolatey, nutty.

Meg

Smell: Surprisingly soft and clean. Milky, with almond and peach. Just a hint of leather and cedarwood underneath.

Taste: Salty and sweet, anise: like a strawberry liquorice.

Ruby

Smell: Like cedarwood, ginger, and pink pepper. Pleasant but sharp, and strong. Like it pulls you in from across the room.

Taste: Bold and sweet like cabernet sauvignon, starkly contrasted by pepperoni and cheesy pasta.

Lucifer

Smell: Similar to Jack, in that he smells clean and minty. However, his is sharper, harsher. There is lime, and moss, and mahogany.

Taste: Like pure Moroccan mint, with that like sweet sourness you get on things like a tangfastics or a sourpatch kid. Like if you’re not expecting it, or you taste it for to long it will make you squirm.

Gabriel

Smell: Like walking into the kitchen of a bakery just before opening and they’re prepping everything. Mocha, malted sugar, rich caramel, creamy vanilla.  

Taste: All of the above again! Just so sweet and creamy. Like a spoonful of sugar.

Raphael

Smell: Very similar to Cas, floral, but less earthy, and more sterile. Like aloe vera and antiseptic.

Taste: Again, very clean. He has a flavour the way cucumber has flavour? Refreshing, clean, but not notable.

Michael/Adam 😍

Smell: Kind of like the ocean, meets the forrest. Musk, white lilies, salt, collided with pine, sandalwood, and cedar. Cold, but familiar, ya know?

Taste: Hear me out: Fruit loops, and Dr Pepper. Like Michael has little say over what they eat, that’s all on Adam. And after the initial, ‘I haven’t eaten in 1200 years, I’m gonna eat everything I craved’ has worn off. He’s just like, a normal guy (who does not need to eat because he shares his body with an immortal angel). So, I can see him mostly reaching for snacks that make him feel good, that remind him of his mum, or his childhood, something comforting; like sugary cereals and fizzy drinks. I love them, I will take no criticism.

Rowena

Smell: Like an apothecary. Rich and indulgent. Very aromatic with lots of deep woody tones, sweet cherry, dark rose and other florally scents.

Taste: Like a bottle of mataro, or Nebbiolo wine. Spice, cherry, plum, smoke. She both smells and tastes intoxicatingly expensive.   

Chuck

Smell: Kind of musky, cottony, leafy. I don’t really imagine him smelling too strongly of anything.

Taste: Summary and tart, like a sea breeze cocktail. (Grapefruit, cranberry, lime – an acquired taste)  

Amara

Smell: Similar to Chuck, I sort of envision an absence of smell. Maybe just hints of amber, sandalwood, and a musky citrusy scent.

Taste: Like a white dessert whine, like Riesling. Dry but sweet. Honey, and pears.

Billie

Smell: Bergamot, rose, silk, and cocoa. Inviting and pleasant, but with an undertone of darkness.

Taste: Very similar to scent, sweet and warm but with an aftertaste of something bitter; blackcurrant and dark chocolate

Benny

Smell: Robust (Copper, ginger, tobacco,) but enticing (amber, cardamom, cinnamon).

Taste: I mean, I have tried really had to not add blood to any of the previous entries, but Benny undeniably tastes like blood.

Kevin

Smell: Not good. Pre-prophethood, not so much; I imagine like mint, green tea, jasmine, the kind of smell you would expects from a reasonably priced aftershave. During prophethood, the aftershave is long forgotten; its more fried chicken, old paper, and forgetting to shower for 9 days.

Taste: Like redbull, chexmix, and mouthwash.

Eileen

Smell: Like peaches, and roses, rich chocolate, and strong coffee.

Taste: Chocolate and coffee again, but hints of sparkly summer fruits.

Ketch

Smell: Like high end British aftershaves only the royal family know off, something with notes of fig, and oud, and other pretentious smells. The small of cigar smoke, and leather follow him around too.

Taste: Like earl grey tea, and dry gin.

Balthazar

Smell: Kind of like ketch, some high end and expensive (if he actually had to pay for it). But woodsier, and fresh. He would also have that hidden undertone of violet.

Taste: Creamy and hazelnutty, but there’s a constant aftertastes alcohol, and something metallic to him, no  matter what comes first.

[blushcoloreddreams]

9 dishes for cold days that will heat your soul

Capeletti soup - a warm soup is perfect for cold days and capeletti is known for its simplicity, flavor and comforting sensation.

Polenta - There's nothing better than polenta with ragú or minced meat on a cold day, accompanied by good cheese.

Risotto a la milanese - a classic risotto from the Milan region, prepared with arborio rice, saffron, meat broth, onion, butter and parmesan cheese, it is delicious!

Pumpkin cream soup - Pumpkin is a very tasty option for making creamy soups. This dish is even better with shredded chicken, croutons and gorgonzola!

Stuffed pasta - a tortéi or ravioli with tomato sauce and cheese could be the solution to accompany a ragú and make a perfect dinner!

Fondue - It is a popular option in the winter of the Rio Grande do Sul mountains. The melted cheese with the various side dishes, meats, followed by a beautiful dessert... makes it the perfect experience to enjoy with friends and family.

Pot roast - the cooking method leaves it soft, juicy and full of flavor; The juices and seasonings mix together to create a rich, flavorful sauce. It goes perfectly with a purée and potatoes go very well with the meat sauce.

Lasagna - an iconic dish of Italian cuisine, made with layers of pasta, Bolognese meat sauce, cheese and béchamel sauce. It is surprisingly good accompanied by a beautiful wine.

Hot chocolate - Although it's not exactly a dish, hot chocolate is a popular drink, a cozy dessert, enjoyed all over the world and especially in cold weather... it's a treat to savor and make a simple moment special!

since your mouth is watering when you see this content now… 😋

In this winter chill… all we want for ourselves and our loved ones is that food that warms, welcomes and comforts…

And these dishes I chose, besides being eye-catching and delicious… are also true comfort food - that preparation that feeds, nourishes and embraces the heart and our soul.

Take advantage of this weekend, and make some of these dishes for the special people in your life… take advantage of the opportunity to exercise one of the most beautiful forms of the feminine: NUTRITION - get ready for compliments and to surprise those you love 🥰

[exhausted-archivist]

So I'm working on drawing food for the headnotes of the recipes I've concepted out and haven't tested or fully worked out the kinks. I want to post something to celebrate The Veilguard drop, especially something I can queue up because I will be avoiding you all and the spoilers for at least a week haha.

The poll is below and the recipe headnotes are below the cut if you want an idea of what I'm working with.

Boiled Eggs and Pine Nuts Sauce (Appetizer) A simple and delightful dish one would not particularly expect from a nation of opulence such as Tevinter. A sweet dish with the perfect touch of zing, nutty, and savory notes, while holding a compelling contrast of being both crunchy and soft.

Deepstalker Stew (Soup/Stew) An uncommon meal, one that most won’t serve outside the appeal for an ‘exotic’ dish or in times of desperation. This stew is more often one to be consumed should you be stuck in the Deep Roads or an isolated cave. Not, at a tavern when one has been on the road for several days. It should be noted that depending on where you’re capturing these cave-dwelling creatures will dictate the taste. Many of the accounts I have heard from the Legionnaires describe the taste and texture akin to chicken. Whereas if you catch them near water sources they garner a fishy taste with the texture of chicken. But, this stew is simple in and of itself. Usually with very little substance aside from the meat and whatever edible additions you can forage for. In this recipe we have tried to enhance it with herbs, potatoes, and salt.

Braised Nug with Elfroot (Savory) This salty, aromatic dish melts in your mouth with its tenderness. Nug is a common and popular dish for Orzammar dwarves. One that lingers in some surface communities with a twist of new herbs and spices. Though humble is the nug and elfroot, this meal is filling and delightful in its own right.

Exquisite Misery (Dessert) The Orlesians are nothing if not indulgent and extravagant. From wyverns to phoenixes, Orlesians have a tendency to play chance with their lives for whatever element of decadence is in the trends. While deep mushrooms are perhaps the least lethal thing one can consume, I do advise avoiding eating too many of these little cakes. That said, should one partake and find that they are able to get past the musky, earthy flavor; these can be quite a treat. Fluffy, soft, and a touch sweet, it is a dessert I find best to consume after a rather savory or spicy meal.

Roasted Fiddleheads and Leeks with Goat Cheese (Vegetable) A dish available during only a few short weeks in the spring, fiddleheads have a delightful crunch from the roasting as well as their natural snap. They have a sweet, but not quite grassy taste to them almost akin to beans and asparagus. When paired with the sweet, caramelized flavour of the leeks and the creamy, tartness of your favourite goat cheese. It pairs well with a protein or on a bed of grains.

Seasoned Mussels (Seafood) The exact origins of this dish are unknown, given that Antiva, Rivain, and Tevinter hold strong ties to their coastal waters and each have several versions of how to make this dish. Most scholars declare it was Tevinter in origin due to the age of the Imperium, but the question then lies what area of the Imperium and when? The version I have crafted is a blend of Antivan and Rivaini flavours, as I prefer the shellfish off their coastlines to those of Tevinter. A rich dish that can be eaten with a fine pasta or spread over a bed of rice.

[friend-crow]

could you share your roux secrets please?

also, it might just be because I’m english but I’ve never heard of having roux with breakfast - what do you have it with, if you don’t mind me asking?

The roux is just the base for the breakfast gravy. We do (American) biscuits and gravy for breakfast here. Usually sausage or some other form of white gravy.

So, you start by heating some fat. Maybe you're having bacon with breakfast (streaky bacon, since you're English), in which case you can use the fat left in the pan after making bacon. Other options are butter, oil, maybe some grease left from cooking sausage, if you're making sausage gravy. Other animal fats work too (forgetting breakfast for a moment, you can use drippings from a roast to make gravy for a dinner).

So you heat the fat (medium-low), then you add flour. In theory it's equal parts by weight, but I ain't weighing shit, especially when it's just leftover fat that's already in the pan -- I just eyeball it and sprinkle in one spoonful at a time, whisking it with a fork or a whisk until the liquid fat has been thickened and is approaching a paste-like consistency. You cook this mixture until it turns golden brown.

That's it. That's the roux.

Now if you're making gravy you can slowly add milk for a white gravy, at bit at a time so you don't get lumps. For a brown gravy you add broth (also you'd typically want to brown the roux a little darker than you would for a white gravy or sauce).

Creamy pasta sauce? Add milk (this gets you a bechamel sauce, which is a great starting point for mac and cheese), garlic, and perhaps some cheese.

Soup? Add broth and whatever other elements you're putting in the soup.

It's just two ingredients, but it's the stepping stone to many delicious things.

You can also use cornstarch instead of flour, but I'm not a fan of the more gelatinous consistency it produces.

[whentherewerebicycles]

top 10 things i cooked in 2023

this year i made 104 unique recipes (plus lots of duplicates when i liked something enough to make it multiple times). the places i went to most for recipes were feasting at home + the NYT recipes app, although i very much liked the weekday vegetarians, love and lemons, cookie & kate, nora cooks, and the foodie takes flight.

my top 10, in no particular order:

NYT ricotta pasta with roasted broccoli and crispy chickpeas (super simple but a great yummy pasta to make real quick for friends. I roasted the broccoli instead of broiling and added lots of extra lemon zest, garlic, red pepper flakes, and a tray of oven-roasted chickpeas)

moroccan vegetable tagine (i blended a bunch of recipes but the one linked was my starting point. this is the one form i like butternut squash in lol. modifications: i went heavy on all the spices but especially the cinnamon and cardamom, added chopped dried apricots to the stew for extra sweetness, and threw in a bunch of extra veggies. yum)

indian-ish nachos with cheddar, black beans and chutney (do NOT skip the multiple chutneys and sauces. it will seem like too much work you will say can't i just make one and be done with it but those sauces are where the magic lies. the great tragedy of these nachos is that i wanted to eat them for DAYS but they do not reheat well. but godddd they were good)

ottolenghi's green pancakes with lime butter (these are SO easy. great for brunch but also make delicious additions to your lunch for a couple days after. also it's a perfect way to eat a pound of spinach and feel very virtuous about it when really you just ate delicious jalapeno-y scallion pancakes. the lime butter is great but it's a lot of work so i usually just top these with some sour cream mixed with a lil bit of lime zest & lime juice)

cauliflower shawarma with spicy tahini sauce (YUM! the tahini sauce as written was too bitter for me with the cholula mixed in. i think i'd try it with sriracha next time so it was a little sweeter. i also added chickpeas yum)

roasted cauliflower daal with chickpeas (my notes say this was "OUTTA THIS WORLD DELICIOUS" but also note that it will "really clean you out GI-wise" lol. lentils always have that effect on me though so ymmv. i added bell pepper, roasted the cauliflower first, cooked the lentils most of the way soft in the rice cooker instead of on the stove, and added two chopped serrano peppers with seeds to give it a lil extra kick. i would recommend halving the recipe if you are cooking for one as there were TONS of leftovers and my GI system could not handle being cleansed that many times lol)

pasta with corn, tomatoes, "onion-bacon," and basil (this method of preparing onions really should not taste like bacon and yet it sort of does????? this was a summer recipe i made multiple times for a range of audiences and it was a hit every time. originally from the weekday vegetarians)

creamy corn pasta (THIS HAS NO RIGHT BEING AS GOOD AS IT IS. IT'S SO SIMPLE AND YET IT'S THE BEST THING I'VE EVER TASTED I COULD EAT IT FOR DAYS. WE ATE IT ALL SUMMER)

ottolenghi's very full roasted veggie tart (it will take you hours to make and no time at all to consume but oh my god it's so good and SUCH a satisfying way to spend a long weekend afternoon. liz and i loved this so much we had to have a serious sitdown to discuss how we would divvy up the leftovers because we felt it could seriously damage our friendship if one of us ate all of it)

bombay burritos (the little sauces and things take a long time to make but you can prep a lot of the stuff a day or two in advance and gosh these are so tasty!! the curried mashed potatoes YUM)

honorable mentions:

ottolenghi's mango soba noodles (skip the eggplant i'd do tofu or something instead)

braised tofu with basil (i made this with a veggie-loaded stir fry and topped it with a fried egg)

this carrot cake (it took forever to make but it was the best carrot cake i've ever had and the only thing i'll ever make on my bday from here on out). she also has a pumpkin cake recipe that is so good and much simpler to make (no grating required)

momofuku's ginger scallion tofu with crispy coconut rice (the recipe is for a shrimp version but we made it with tofu and it was very yummy. i made this at a friend's house and it was so good i wanted to ask to take home some of the leftovers but decided that was too rude ahaha)

and then of course i gotta give a shoutout to my #1 comfort foods this year, SHAKSHUKA (my beloved) + a caprese sandwich with balsamic glaze served on really good bread.

[lynsstrange]

For the emoji asks:

☕️🧃🍜🍉🌻👥

☕️: hot chocolate probably, i can't stand coffee. tea is nice too but i usually don't go out of my way to have it

🧃: shirley temples will usually be my go-to at restaurants, but I love love love arnold palmers

🍜: pasta of any kind is an automatic winner for me, but I'm especially a sucker for any kind of pesto or creamy vodka-type sauce

🍉: raspberries or peaches <3

🌻: bleeding hearts are soo gorgeous i've always wanted to figure out how to plant some ( i say with zero (0) gardening experience)

👥: ohh this is tough. top three that come to me rn are kanej (six of crows), percabeth (percy jackson), and wolfstar (harry potter technically but like bfr)

[count-alucard-tepes]

Your fav OP Hotties reaction to when their S/O’s fav food is the OP Hotties least fav/hated food

So I know that Oda has already given their favorite and least favorite food but I'll try and elaborate based on my opinion of them and western and eastern cuisines.

Kizaru✨

He likes tempura quite a bit even though it's not food for anyone's health really but he does enjoy it from time to time. Especially if its shrimp! Have this prepared for him and he will tell you all the naughty secrets of the marines. He dislikes anything too spicy but sometimes he tries Akainu's cooking and then he's in pain for a couple of hours later. So when he finds out his S/O likes spicy food, he doesn't mind at all and would usually go to a restaurant where both of them could enjoy their favorite meals.

Akainu🌋

He has a sweet tooth and tends to always have something sweet after his lunch as he can over indulge at times. His favourite dessert is an speculaas tart with almond filling which was introduced to him when he was travelling as a young marine, its not too sweet but it just hits the spot for him. If you ever want to calm him down and make him happy, bring him a large tart and he won't burn you. He dislikes durians and can't get over the smell, it's too much for him. He would lecture his S/O about only eating the fruit outside of the house because of the smell and to brush their teeth immediately after.

Ryokugyu🌱

He loves good Southern spicy fried chicken with gravy and mashed potatoes. This is something he would eat when he breaks his fast and he's gonna eat all he can! He dislikes chocolate muffins, they make his teeth ache. He would lecture his S/O about how much sugar is in the muffin and how bad that is for their body.

Sir Crocodile 🐊

He loves creamy chicken Italiano and eats this on a weekly basis out of his regular diet. He enjoys pasta from time to time but is pretty strict with his health and does not indulge too much. He dislikes any dish that has a tomato based sauce despite liking tomatoes, it gives him heart burn. He wouldn't really mind his S/O eating it as long as he doesn't have to eat it.

Doflamingo Donquixote🦩

He likes all kinds of seafood and enjoys having fresh oysters for breakfast every morning with a bit of hot sauce and freshly squeezed lemon juice. He never truly feels awake until he has his oysters. He dislikes fried chicken as he thinks it's way too heavy for him, he likes to keep his sexy body all year long. He would tell his S/O that it's not healthy for the body and that they should find alternative healthier options.

Benn Beckman🔫

He enjoys sushi and sashimi. He usually goes somewhere he could enjoy a meal by himself as there was a time where he didn't know how to eat wasabi and almost saw Kami-San. Shanks never let this down so he now just goes alone. He dislikes coffee ice cream and thinks it's an abomination. He would watch his S/O with a frown before commenting that it looks like baby's poop just to piss his S/O off.

Katakuri Charlotte🍡

He loves having barbecues with his brothers and sisters and of course he's the one in charge at the grill. He makes burgers, hot dogs and lots racks of ribs which he marinates by himself. He could eat barbecued meat forever and be content. He dislikes matcha flavoured desserts, he thinks they're gross. He would cringe as he watched his S/O eat but wouldn't comment or anything like that.

Killer🔪

He enjoys a full Scottish breakfast with eggs, bacon, baked beans, black pudding, scones, tomatoes, mushrooms and haggis all with a nice cup of tea. Usually after eating all of this, he goes into a food coma but he's happy as ever. He dislikes any kind of cheese, he's lactose intolerant. He would make gagging sound when his S/O eats it and would say they have cheese breath.

Kaido🐉

He likes a good helping of tonkatsu with rice and curry as well as an omelet over it. It is his comfort food and he could eat it several times a week. He dislikes edamame and if anyone serves him this would never hear the end of it. He would glare at his S/O and tell them to eat it somewhere else because it smells terrible.

King👑

He really loves eating crabs, especially crab legs. He usually has it with a spicy sauce and rice. When ever Queen wants him to approve something, he treats him with several kilograms of crab legs and he gets the approval he needs. He dislikes cheesy sauces, he thinks its gross on seafood and just doesn't generally like it. He would look at his S/O in disapproval but wouldn't say anything in case he got them mad for something they liked.

Queen 👑

He loves eating roasted pork belly with all the condiments he can have. He doesn't really care much about his health so he tends to eat large amounts of it all the time. He dislikes fruity desserts, he doesn't like fruits in general. He would laugh and say things like, 'you don't need to watch what you eat, love! You're perfect!'.

[i-cant-sing]

What’s rose pasta?? Sounds fire

Its a creamy tomato sauce pasta, its really yum. Especially since I am tired of eating alfredo over and over again

[pjunicornart]

Random Thoughts About Cornelius/Lewis I think about way too often

Title is self explanatory. Mostly headcanons under the cut.

I wonder what else he's picky about? Why would he make a PB&J gun? Because he's like me. Portions on certain foods need to be EXACTLY TO MY SPECIFICATIONS otherwise I'll break down. So if he's picky about a simple PB&J, what else is he picky over? I think he doesn't like a lot of spaghetti sauce on pasta, or he just orders butter pasta. He probably never has any kind of liquid/creamy based thing on subs, like mayo or dressings. Also can't stand coconut. Just a vibe.

I don't think Neil tolerates heat very well. I feel like on really hot Summer days, the last thing he wants to do is go outside... unless it's to a pool. Because he gets heat sick very easily, and he feels like he's gonna puke but he knows he's not but because he feels like he is he's just in an eternal cycle of suffering. I'm not speaking from experience what are you talking about...

Loud/sudden loud noises are probably a sensitive thing for Cornelius. I feel like when he was younger he'd hate the sound of blenders, mixers, rumble strips on roads, lightning, etc. As well as shrill/cringe inducing noises such as styrofoam rubbing against styrofoam, crinkling/ripping/rubbing plastic, squeaky markers on whiteboards, buzzing from flies and bees, and squeaky shoes on linoleum floors.

Do you think Neil ever goes into one of those little travel bubbles and just kinda floats through the air? Like to be in a calming environment.

I think besides dogs, he also wants a pet snake. It was like that when he was a kid, and as an adult, he still wants a pet snake.

Cornelius has a very specific way of doing things, and if you mess up that system by cleaning his mess for him, you're dead!

I think in general he has sleep issues. Especially when Neil is on business trips. He's only comfortable (and used to) sleeping in his own environment, so any other environment messes with his routine enough to make him toss and turn.

In case it wasn't already obvious, I think Cornelius is autistic. Self diagnosed later on down the line. I feel like the physical symptom he displays the most (aside from fidgeting) is toe walking.

Let's face it... Lewis in the movie is kind of an irritable jerk. But I think this is explained by his past. He always keeps his guard up and he never wants to get close to anybody because they always leave him. Hence why he scolds himself for letting himself think Wilbur was a friend, rather than scolding Wilbur for lying after he found out.

He didn't like frogs at first because "Ew, slimy."

He was definitely the type to always get picked last in gym class. Neil can't catch a ball to save his life... but he is a pretty fast runner.

Another vibe I get, but I feel like there were those times when he wished Mr. Willerstein could be his dad. He was essentially the only thing close to a father figure he had in his life before he got adopted. We don't see much screen time with them interacting, but it's clear Lewis and Mr. Willerstein had a pretty good teacher-student relationship. Hell, I even feel like Lewis would prefer to spend his lunch hour with his teacher instead of in the cafeteria with everybody being loud and annoying.

If Neil is gonna play any game, it's gotta have good puzzles. So what I'm saying is he probably played a lot of Professor Layton. But because he grew up during the DS, Wii, and Gamecube era, he's probably nostalgic for those Zelda games (Twilight Princess, Ocarina of Time, Skyward Sword), Mario games (New Bros. Wii, Mario Kart Wii, Galaxy 1 & 2, Mario Kart DS, Mario Party DS, Double Dash, Sunshine, Paper Mario), as well as the Metroid and Megaman games which would've been in circulation during that time period. For some reason, I don't think he was ever interested in Pokemon. I feel like that's more Franny's schtick.

Cornelius does NOT like horror games. Unless it's FNaF, because it's not actually scary most of the time.

He either sleeps in the softest blankets known to man or he ain't sleeping at all.

Neil may be one of the smartest men on Earth, yes, but he still has his dumb moments. Like when he's trying to find the syrup in the pantry for his pancakes, and he can't find it so he asks Wilbur for help. Then Wilbur proceeds to find the bottle of syrup that was right in front of Neil's face the whole time, and he somehow didn't register its existence.

Lewis prefers longer socks to normal length socks, because he blisters easily. But also because there are more fun varieties.

Frogs he can learn to love. But small, spindly spiders? NOPE NOPE NOPE. Tarantulas? He loves them because they're fuzzy and the perfect petting size! But the minute the spiders get smaller he is OUT. He hates bugs in general, really. The minute he finds a spider, ant, bee, or any bug in his house he will bomb the residence then move to Mars.

[blackswallowtailbutterfly]

Ink Caps--Coprinus, Coprinopsis, and Coprinellus

They don't just grow in shit, I promise (in fact I don't think I've ever seen them growing in shit...). Photos are all mine, all unedited. The reason the ones of Coprinellus micacea look so much better is because of the lighting that time of day and also because I used my digital SLR camera. All the rest were taken with my old Moto G phone camera.

Coprinellus disseminatus, the fairy ink cap. They're edible but you'd need a lot of them because they're very small. Luckily they tend to be numerous! Good in soup or pasta sauce. They crumble really easily, so you want them in a paper bag you can easily shake them out of into a pan.

Coprinellus micaceus, the glistening ink cap. Also edible, and bigger than their aptly named cousins, but get 'em quickly and cook them because they will autodigest quickly and leave an inky mess. Good on pizza or in pasta sauce.

Coprinopsis atramentaria, the common ink cap. Edible as well and bigger than Coprinellus, but again you want to collect and cook those quickly. Good in pasta sauce. And the young ones specifically are really really good with mac and cheese, especially if you put fresh chives or green onions on top afterward.

Coprinopsis variegata, the scaly ink cap. The young ones look an awful lot like puffballs. The older ones look like shaggy manes to the untrained eye. The scales will fall off with handling. These also are edible. Excellent in a creamy soup.

Coprinus comatus, the shaggy mane. Choice edible, but again, grab 'em quickly. Did you know my very first picture of a shaggy mane (left), I didn't even know it was a shaggy mane? Because I wasn't foraging yet. Good with pizza, in mushroom gravy, pasta sauce, or wherever else you'd want to use mushroooms. :)

Word of caution: ALL edible wild mushrooms need to be cooked. Even those that won't make you sick immediately can have longterm effects. Cook them and cook them well. You pretty much have to try to overcook a mushroom. So cook them properly.

A secondary word of caution: all edible ink caps with the exception of the shaggy mane don't react well with alcohol. The recommendation is that you don't consume ink caps within three days of having consumed alcohol, one way or the other. That being said, it does vary between individuals. I've been fine with no more than a few hours between a single drink and a meal with them in it.

Word of ethics: always leave at a third of the young mushrooms you find, and only in a large flush. If there's only one, leave it be.

And not so much caution, but for convenience: collect quickly and cook quickly. Some do it faster than others, but if you have mature specimens, they will autodigest into ink. Some people have used them as ink, if that's what you're after, go for it, but if you mean to actually eat them, you need to apply heat, as that disrupts that process. Another fun thing, though! If you get mature specimens that have only just begin to autodigest, you can cook them into a black sauce and even mix with flour to make black pasta!

[askwhatsforlunch]

Hot Pasta alla Vodka (Vegetarian)

This spicy, creamy and warming Hot Pasta alla Vodka makes a deliciously comforting lunch, especially when you've caught a bit of a chill! Happy Tuesday!

Ingredients (serves 2):

2 cups short pasta (like orecchiette)

2 tablespoons olive oil

1/2 large onion

1/3 red chili pepper

a generous bunch Garden Parsley 

3 large Whole Peeled Tomatoes+ 1/3 cup of their juice

1 tablespoon Hot Pepper Sauce 

a pinch of fleur de sel or sea salt flakes and freshly cracked black pepper, to taste

5 tablespoons good quality Vodka

½ tablespoon caster sugar

half a dozen large leaves Garden Basil

½ cup double cream

Parmesan Cheese

In a pot of salted boiling water, cook orecchiette according to package’s direction, usually 9 to 11 minutes until al dente.

While the pasta is cooking, heat olive oil in a large, deep, nonstick skillet over medium heat. 

Finely chop the onion and stir into the skillet. Cook, a couple of minutes until softened.

Thinly slice red chili pepper, and add to the skillet; cook, 1 minute more. 

Finely chop Parsley, and stir into the skillet as well.

Roughly chop Whole Peeled Tomatoes, and stir them into the skillet, along with their juice. Increase heat to medium-high, and simmer, 4 minutes, stirring often. Stir in Hot Pepper Sauce. Season with salt and black pepper, to taste. Then, stir in Vodka and caster sugar. 

Finely chop Basil, and stir half into the sauce. Simmer, a couple of minutes more, then add double cream.  Allow to reduce and thicken a little, 2 minutes.

Then, drain orecchiette, saving 1/3 cup of its starchy water. Stir both into the skillet, coating the pasta in sauce. Grate in about ¼ cup Parmesan. Give a gentle stir until the sauce beautifully coats the pasta.

Serve Hot Pasta alla Vodka, sprinkled with remaining fresh Basil, topped with freshly grated Parmesan, hot, with a glass of chilled dry white wine, like a light and citrus-y Chardonnay or Sauvignon Blanc.

[universalradioshow]

Hello there! New listener here. A question for the hosts: whats your favorite kind of pasta?

"Okay okay. Are we talking type of pasta, like the shape? Or we talking pasta dish?" Akemi clicks her tongue, and you can almost see her waggle her pointer finger at the microphone. "Details, dear listener!"

"We can always answer both, so we don't have to make you call back in and clarify. Phone bills can be expensive, especially with the economy nowadays..."

"Forget that for now! We're here to talk about pasta!"

You hear a thonk as something hits the microphone before Akemi clears her throat. "I like long pastas! Spaghetti, angel hair, fettuccine, et cetera. They're just so fun to slurp, and you can absolutely use chopsticks for them if you're too lazy to find a clean fork."

Jazz laughs at her answer. "You're insane! Eating Italian pastas with chopsticks? And I thought using chopsticks to eat chips out of the bag was weird enough for you."

"Hey! At least I don't let my food go cold by sticking elbow macaroni on the prongs of my fork!"

"H-hey! You weren't supposed to tell the listeners that!"

"Aw, too late!"

You heard Jazz sigh and grumble something under their breath before they collect themself. "Apologizes for that, dear listeners. While we're on the topic of pasta types, I enjoy elbow macaroni and shells. Though if these count, I'm particular towards stuffed pastas. Things like ravioli and tortellini. Especially if you put them with a tart tomato sauce or a creamy white sauce, then sprinkle some cheese on top...ah, I'm getting hungry just thinking about it."

"Now for pasta dishes --- "

"No, no. I can't start talking about pasta dishes when I've already made myself hungry. I don't want the microphone to pick up on my stomach growling. Imagine how embarrassing that'll be!"

You hear a stifled giggle and a quiet, "Cute."

"Say that to a mirror next time, alright?"

"Based on your face, I don't think I'll have to."

"Oh you..."

[clatterbane]

Getting ready for tonight's delight, an easy Swedish comfort food classic: stekt falukorv med stuvade makaroner (fried falukorv with stewed macaroni)! To have the simple vinegar cucumber salad on the side.

Hopefully especially good as a foil since the Household Swede despises the usual condiment there: ketchup. (Which is a long story, involving a diner type place and some terrible spoiled ketchup. I didn't know ketchup could really go that bad, but sounds like I was very wrong.)

I'm planning to go the simple route, and just simmer it in milk. Good thing we got more milk yesterday! A gob of butter added at the end makes it even better.

You can also just cook the pasta normally, and mix it with a white sauce like this guy is doing.

But, that involves a couple more steps. (Pros: It also requires less milk if you're running low.)

I have found that throwing some grated cheese and extra seasonings in with the milk-simmered kind also makes for a good extra-simple stovetop macaroni and cheese approach. But, we're going classic tonight!