#pancake recipe without milk

[themotherofhorses]

simon riley x fem!reader

Imagine holding Simon when he cries. 

Simon Riley is an incredibly strong man, an absolute force to be reckoned with on the battlefield. Since joining the SAS in 2001, he has created a name for himself. A military legend—seemingly more ghost-like than flesh and blood. But that is the farthest from the truth, isn’t it? Cause, at the end of the day, he is still human. You’re his girl, the love of his life. His true love—his only love.

You are a source of comfort he somehow found in this shitty, cold world. The home he never had the privilege of experiencing; your arms have provided him with everything he was denied during boyhood.  

So imagine your Simon arriving home one evening—dead silent—merely shuffling his way to where you’re seated comfortably on the living room couch. His duffle bag drops near his leather recliner before the balaclava is tossed to the side. On his face is a certain heaviness, a sadness twisted in his handsome features; his blue eyes are not as bright as they usually are.

You swallow. Did something happen during the mission? 

“What is wrong, baby?” You coo, stretching your arms out wide to welcome him in. 

Without another thought, Simon tucks himself into your embrace, with his head resting gently on your chest. Against your breast, he can hear your heartbeat thundering away in your chest, moving in a rhythm that matches his. He reckons he is the luckiest bastard in the world, to find a soulmate who compliments him in every aspect of life. 

He lets out a small sigh, squeezing his eyes shut, feeling his throat closing up as tears begin to well up. His bottom lip trembles before he bites down on it. 

“Simon,” you murmur, pressing a gentle kiss on his forehead. “What happened, my love?” 

Another tear, followed by three more. A tiny, shaky exhale. Simon remains utterly still for a moment, not saying anything, until…“It’s my father’s birthday today.” His voice is quiet, breathless, unbelievably thick with sheer sadness. 

Your face falls at that. “Oh, Simon.” A sad smile pulls at your lips while you hug him closer, peppering more kisses up and down his hairline, pausing to brush back soft, blonde strands. You say nothing more as he continues to weep in your arms, entire body racking with choked-up sobs and uneven breathing. 

“I loved him,” Simon rasps out, pulling his face up from your neck. Both his cheeks and nose are a cherry-red, with baby-blue eyes bloodshot and puffy, lined with fresh tears. For a moment, he wasn’t the Simon Riley you fell in love with, but the Simon Riley who was five-years-old—all scrawny, little legged and freshly bruised, hiding behind the bookcase in his parents’ bedroom. 

“Loved him so bloody much.” 

You don’t know what to say. What can you even say? Nothing can heal those wounds, cut so deep in his heart and soul that any slight movement reopens them. “I know you did.” You kiss his nose, minding the mess of tears and snot. 

His fists slowly tighten, knuckles whitening as all the memories of his father begin to flood through him; they all carry an agonizing sensation, the kind that is too fuckin' painful to discuss aloud, yet too damn gut-wrenching to keep bottled up inside.

“Do ya…” he hiccups, clearing his throat. “Do ya think…in another life…?” 

In another life. You think for a moment, carding your fingers softly through his hair. “Maybe, my love…” 

Simon nods. “Maybe,” he croaks out, keeping his arms tight around you. There, on the couch, you continue to hold him, letting his torrent of tears soak your shirt; time and time again, your fingers run through his hair in some silent attempt to ease the little boy wailing inside. 

“It’s okay, baby.”

You kiss his temple.

“You’re alright. Let it out, baby.” 

He’ll be alright tomorrow. You know it. In the morning, he’ll be barefoot and content in the kitchen, baking his mother’s special recipe of blueberry and pineapple pancakes—a cup of milk, one egg, blueberries, pineapple, and, of course, the batter—all while waiting for your arms to circle around his chest. 

But for right now, he is five years old, finally being embraced in arms so warm and loving and protective—so unbelievably perfect. The feeling incites more tears.

"Thank you, baby," he mumbles, gently kissing your collarbone; it's a kiss so rich with love, appreciation, and adoration that it stirs up butterflies in your tummy. "For everything."

For everything. Oh, you silly boy. "Simon." You smile down at him, gently caressing his cheek. "For you, my love? I'd do anything."

note: a little drabble for my "let simon riley cry 2024" campaign. thanks!

[honeydazai]

I need domestic Viktor and Jayce ( especially Jayce 😍)

₊˚⊹♡ domestic moments

feat.: Viktor, Jayce Talis

notes: A!! YES. this was so cute.. i love them....

Jayce likes to cook, and he's good at it, too — really, his mother would be disappointed if he wasn't. You can find him in your shared kitchen regularly, adding spices to your meal or flipping pancakes, humming absentmindedly to himself, and he's all too happy to let you taste-test the second you ask to. When you compliment him on his cooking, he beams.

He's clingy in the best way, constantly aching to spend time with you, even if it's just him laying his head on your lap while you read or do whatever else. He's just happy to be with you.

In the kitchen cupboards, there's varieties of pastries for the two of you to enjoy that he makes sure to keep stocked — at one point, he attempted to make the ones you two enjoyed on Progress Day, but the recipe was flawed and the bakers making the original ones were professionals, or so he defends the sad result.

Even though grocery shopping is usually but a chore that needs to be done, it doesn't feel that way when the two of you do it together, with him meticulously checking his grocery list every five minutes while you curiously check the aisles for snacks either of you would enjoy. He carries the bags back home, too; what are all his muscles for otherwise?

There's little he enjoys doing more than cuddling with you, curled up in bed, comfortable and safe. Despite his physique, he loves being the little spoon — it doesn't matter how short you may be compared to him, having your arms wrapped around him just makes him feel loved and at peace. Indulge him.

Viktor likes to read to you, his voice calm, soothing, accent warbling enticingly around the words. What by now has become a routine for slow evenings at home began in the first place because you asked him to, claiming to be able to focus better when it's him reading the text aloud. Surprisingly enough, he found himself enjoying it as well, chuckling softly at the way you gaze at him as if he hung the moon, completely entranced. It's awfully cute.

While he prefers not to cook, often reaching for a quick snack instead of wasting time on a proper meal, Viktor will gladly watch you cook. The sight leaves him with a warm feeling spreading through his chest, and he oftentimes he ends up behind you, arms around your waist and chin perched up on your shoulder, the tip of his nose against your neck.

With sweet milk in your fridge and chocolate chip cookies on your kitchen counter, you're well-equipped to spend cozy afternoons together. Since he runs cold, there's quite a few blankets piled up high on your sofa, and you're often huddled underneath them, sharing warmth. Viktor is quite fond of the idea of the two of you consuming media together, such as reading novels — though he will sulk if you ever continue without him. It's a terrible betrayal.

Even though he usually prefers to take quick showers, doing it to get clean rather than to enjoy and relax, he takes the occasional hot bath with you. With you so close to him, skin on skin, he's able to feel the tension bleed from his muscles, and there's something sweet about the vulnerability of washing each other's hair with scented shampoos.

₊˚⊹♡ my commissions are open! ♡ tag list!

tags: @my-awakened-ghost @afidiofobia @helloyellowsheeps @yuuotosaka3 @sccarymonster @satoruislove @pastelsbaby @artsyxabbyx @arboranimus @marina-and-the-memes @holysmokesblog @twilightdollie @kaaylvst @definitely-not-v @innerstrawberrypolice @misty-q @perylinsus @pleasemakeitgayer @imaginesbymk @meimayooo @doxmino @smolbeandrabbles @darknessbyme @darthkenobii-recs @mars738

@cupcakkesinflatedwetbussy @illicittete @lemzhargreeves @festivalthrash @savagemickey03 @rosepxtlz @user4837 @Nervousartisanheart @mikariell95 @mechmoucha

@silcobrainrot @Medeaa5 @nocturnal-onlooker @modernamilf @catsaiem @t0r @beyondblissxoxo @zillahvathek @brainrottingrn @klaudia7 @okura-s

@666abby6666 @ironnieincarn8 @watercolourdreams @scturne19 @ladykatakuri @lunerenzo @cowboykiri @soullessbody @thottywizard @celebrity-crushes27 @ygrworld @sevikasslvtt @chaoticevilbakugo @trashbod @MiloMalaise @berywritesstuff @alice0blog

@gooseberries88 @s1t1n0ny0url4p @black-rose-29 @notyetzaio @ibby-miyoshi-nerd @that-marvel-simp @riot-in-my-soul @one-eyed-captain-kinky @serenareiss @dilucshandholder @reiikonee @1-800-mocha @xvocadooo @nyx2021 @hexiisexii @sillytoaaad @enyoistic

[thesecretestblogever]

Could you write baking together with Jack Hughes? He’s probably so bad but so eager to help anyway

pairing : jack hughes x reader

w.c. : 800

warnings : none!!

✧･ﾟ: *✧･

“I mean it’s shocking really,” you stand in the kitchen with your hands on your hips as you watch the struggle in front of you. If you were really kind, you’d blame it on his shoulder injury, but Jack has been without his sling for a few weeks and it’s not affecting the other parts of his life. He really is just that bad at baking.

“It’s not as bad as it looks,” he rolls his eyes and turns his attention to the bowl on the counter. There’s leaking egg shells on the counter, and spills of milk, and the flour covers almost every surface, including his cheeks. Not to mention that you stepped in something crunchy, which you’re guessing and hoping is sugar. 

“Says the boy who didn’t know how to make broccoli,” you quip, taking the spoon from his hand and pushing him to the side. You’re comforted by the fact that he’ll clean everything up after all is said and done, but you’re completely astounded by the mess in front of you.

“Come on, that was so long ago,” he pouted. 

“And yet, it seems like you learned nothing,” you’re surveying the crime scene to see if there’s anything you can do to save the situation. “What exactly were you trying to make anyway?” you ask in disbelief. 

“Pancakes,” Jack groans, standing behind you and resting his chin on your shoulder as you look at everything. Sure enough, your eyes fall to his phone where a recipe lights up the screen and you smile to yourself. You turn around, your body now framed against the counter by Jack’s. You cup his cheeks in your hands and your thumb wipes away some of the flour on his skin. 

“That’s sweet, baby,” you peck his lips, but pull away when he tries to deepen the kiss. The distraction attempt is almost successful until some sort of wet ingredient drips from the counter onto you and the cold liquid makes you yelp and turn back around. “Okay, we’re starting over. The prognosis is bad - there’s no saving this,” you gesture at the mixture that is clumpy and… pink? 

“I tried to make them pink and I was gonna make them heart shaped, but I didn’t exactly get very far,” he’s cleaning up with you now. The egg shells hit the trash, and the bowl of batter gets placed in the sink along with the other utensils he tried to use. You’re not totally sure what purpose the butcher knife possibly could have served, but you just shake your head and place it in the sink too. Once everything is cleaned up, you can start over. It’s the thought that counts. The fact that he tried to surprise you when you woke up is heartwarming, even if he failed miserably.

“You’re on bacon and eggs duty. That I know you can handle, big boy,” you squeeze his bicep and direct him back towards the fridge. The coffee machine beeps and you fill two mugs to fuel your joint effort to turn the morning around. 

You’re focused on following the recipe on Jack’s phone (correctly this time), so you don’t hear him sneak up behind you and dip his hand into the flour bag. The resounding smack that echoes through the kitchen when his palm meets the flesh of your ass certainly catches your attention.

“Jack!” You admonish him, looking over your shoulder to see a perfect flour handprint across your butt. 

“Oops,” he says innocently, turning back to the bacon on the stove that emits the most delicious, rich, fatty smell into the kitchen. You narrow your eyes, dipping your hand into the same flour bag as quietly as you can to avoid it crinkling. An evil smile works its way onto your face as you sneak up behind him. You think you’ve done it until he whirls around at the last second. 

Jack lets out a bark of laughter as the surprised O your mouth makes as your eyes widen. He heard you coming the whole time and let you get just close enough for him to be able to grab your hand and turn it back on you, leaving another handprint, this time on the front of your sleep shirt.

“You’re gonna have to try harder than that, baby,” he pulls you into him as you complain about your foiled plan. You successfully make it through making breakfast, sans any more food fights or batter disasters. 

You sit at the dining room table, coffee mugs emanating steam into the sunlit air. Your plates are full, but somehow your heart is even fuller as you watch the boy across from you dig into the meal you made together. What Jack doesn’t know is that he has a flour handprint on the back of his shirt. You used one hand as a decoy and got him with the other…

[cryptfile]

deleted this question since i’m plain DUMB, but here’s a lil something for you bb, stablished relationship cause carmy deserves better </3

MINORS DNI

“so, this right here are the best things you can cook?” carmen asks resisting the urgency to check on the shrimps you seemed to be overcooking by all the time they stood over the fire at maximum heat.

“why are you saying it like it’s nothing?” you ask in response, looking at everything you managed to cook being the celebration of your first-month-anniversary with your boyfriend (a day later cause he forgets every little detail in his private life) — “this right here my dear chef, ‘s the best strawberry pie you’ll ever try. consider yourself lucky.”

he don’t believe you at first, of course he wouldn’t. An awarded chef that enjoys an almost too-sweet pie recipe from your aunt? Seems almost imposible to believe, especially when he had the first bite and stayed in full silence for at least three minutes making you scared of actually going too far with the condensed milk.

but then he gave you this look, the look of «holy shit babe, this is the best pie i've ever had» that makes your chest swell in pure pride, almost not believing he actually liked something you make having zero knowledge in anything technical — christ, you even burnt pancakes without even trying.

so you try to understand how exactly you end up in that position, trapped beneath the palm of his hand close to the edge of your bed, ragged breathing as your hand grabs the bedsheet beneath you, looking for something to hold on to even for a minute. You're clueless about how you actually finish up with your cheek pressed against the mattress, surrounded of that new bliss that fills your shitty apartment as he buries himself deep inside you in the intimacy of your room.

must have been when he caught you cleaning up moments later, mouth all fucking sweet and tasting like strawberry. almost exactly sure that it should have been the moment he pressed himself against you, no questions asked, brushing his lips against the crook of your neck.

"care to share the recipe with me? wanna try a couple things" he asks behind you, breathing colliding against your skin. and yes, it's equally as rewarding as winning an extremely hard race.

"wanna' change the recipe of my family? are you serious right now?" he thinks he has fucked up everything for almost a second, but your smile lights the whole room when you give him a chuckle of pure fun, and he can breathe in peace. "fuck yes, carm. of course i'll give it to you. works with any fruit, i just happen' to love strawberries though."

he seems happy with your answer — however, you're still unsure of how he exactly dragged you to your bed.

you're not complaining, never would. Way down buried in a new haze of pleasure while he keeps you against the warm surface, fucking you in an steady pace at first as he moves your hips himself, hammering against you soon after. it's addicting, and he's so pleased about how you react to it.

"relax baby," he would say in a rough voice, he's still relatively new to all of this intense sex life since he started dating you not so long ago, making sure you really are enjoying yourself as much as he is.

the chef hums in response, and you know, just from his voice alone, he's going borderline mental as your tense muscles relax under his touch — "lemme' take care of you sweetheart, you doin' it s'good f'me."

he's a man of his word, so he does what he says. he knows how to get you, so when the room seems to become smaller than what trully is, the sound of the skin slapping against you, ragging in your ear mixing with the moans and groans you two make, he places his fingers right over your clit, the force of his pushing enough to make you move against his digits as he digs the other hand in your hip so hard you think's gonna leave a bruise behind.

he's so close already, always so fucking close with you he has to force himself not to cum. face all flushed while he pounds into you, concentrated in the little sounds you make, how your ass looks from that position while his cock stretches you out, the way your fists grabs the sheets trying to keep yourself together.

carmy's determined to make you feel him everywhere, pulling deeper against you — "look at you s'pretty" he says, stumbling over his words as he spoke "how did i get such a good girl just f'me?"

"good fuckin' lord squeezing me like that," the chef curses under his breath, sweat covering his body. "you close, princess?"

you cannot answer. you cannot say anything but instead nod in response, the act of talking seeming almost impossible as you let out a strangled moan, victim of a warm feeling on your chest as you finally reach the orgasm, the waves colliding in your stomach when he keeps on fucking you through it at a relentless pace, even when his own cum is already leaking out of you.

and when he finally kisses you, damned you'll be forever.

cause you can still feel the taste of condensed milk and strawberries lingering on his lips, and it's enough to make you crave some more.

[digitalfishwish]

Kit's Traybake Pancakes (cinnamon apple var.) - Updated!

Love eating pancakes but hate making them? This traybake pancake recipe may be for you! Making these gives me enough pancake squares for 6 days (5 if you eat two on the day you make them). They’re fluffy, reheat well, can either be eaten with or without maple syrup, and are very customizable! I recommend adding fruit and protein powder like I do in this recipe, making it a (slightly) healthier breakfast than just pure carbs.

(Updated) instructions under the cut!

Full disclosure, the base for this recipe was the mug pancake recipe from Emma’s Goodies, which you can watch here!

I made this mug pancake for years (except with tripled portions because I was using a very big mug) and it was super delicious! However, for just one mug pancake, it was a bit of a production and didn’t feel super worth it. Thusly, I have adapted the recipe to be made in a 13”x9” baking tray, which makes a whole lot of breakfast.

Recipe (serving size: 2 squares):

Base Ingredients:

12 tbsp. butter (I use salted, if you don’t have salted butter, add a small amount of kosher salt to your recipe)

9 tbsp. (1/2 cup+ 1 tbsp) granulated sugar

12 fl.oz. milk (I use skim, use whatever kind you like)

3 cups all-purpose flour

3 tsp. baking powder

Customizable Ingredients:

1 scoop protein powder (I use vanilla flavored whey)

1/4 cup of maple syrup (ideally not pancake syrup, they’re different)

1 apple (I use McIntosh or Honeycrisp)

A piping hot cup of apple tea with a heaping tablespoon of honey

Nutmeg, cinnamon, cardamom to taste, for sprinkling on top

Base Instructions:

Heat oven to 375°F, take out a 13”x9” nonstick baking pan and spray bottom and sides with cooking spray (yes theoretically I know you don’t need to spray a nonstick pan but better safe than sorry).

If you choose to put apple chunks in, I recommend doing this step first. I personally like to let the chunks soak in my favorite loose leaf apple tea (non-sponsored plug)! Boil a cup of water and fill the tea infuser with tea. Add a heaping tablespoon of honey to the cup and stir until it dissolves. Then put them infuser in and steep the tea for three minutes, after which you should give the mug a final stir and pour it into a bowl. See “customizable instructions, steps 2-4” for how I recommend cutting the apple. After that, put the peeled apple chunks into the bowl of delicious tea and let them soak until it’s time to add them later on!

If you’re not putting apple in, do this step first. Put butter in a bowl and melt it in the microwave. I recommend microwaving for 1m20s.

Put butter in a stand mixer, preferably with the paddle attachment. While you heat the milk in the microwave* (40 seconds, I use a glass liquid measuring cup), add the granulated sugar to the mixer. Once the milk is heated, give it a real quick stir, and then add it and use one of the lower settings on your mixer.

(If you have customizable wet ingredients, add them now!)

Add the flour and baking powder, mix again on low setting until it forms a batter (a small amount of lumps is okay from what I’ve heard, you don’t want to overmix).

*You can’t put cold milk into hot butter, it will form little clumps and be gross

Customizable Instructions:

Add a 1/4 cup of maple syrup (as above, preferably before the flour, with the other wet ingredients), and also one scoop of your preferred protein powder. Mix on low setting until it’s incorporated.

Peel the apple wedges with a peeler (don't use the skin, you'll thank me later). If you have an apple cutter (the thing that looks like a wheel with handles), use that. If you don’t:

Take your apple and a large, sharp knife (be careful) and cut the apple in half vertically. Then place it down with the core side up, and cut each apple half like so: cut off the left side, avoiding the core, followed by the right. Then turn what’s left of the half apple on its side, and cut off the last piece at the back. Do the same for the other apple half, then chop the segments into whatever sized chunks you want.

Use as much of it as you want, but I myself use the whole apple. (If you don’t, eat whatever segments you don’t intend to use for a lil snack.) Then put apple chunks into mixer, and half the tea if you made it, and mix until incorporated. (Drink what tea remains, it’s even more delicious now that the fresh apple’s been in it!)

Baking Instructions:

Pour batter into greased baking tray, shake the pan until the batter is flattened and reaches all the corners (or use a spatula and spread it evenly by hand). Optional: Sprinkle the top with cinnamon, nutmeg, and cardamom according to your tastes. I tend to have a heavy hand even if I don’t mean to, but it still comes out very tasty! (and smells great while baking!)

When the oven reaches temperature (if you preheated it at the beginning, it may have already been at temperature for a while) put the pan in and cook for 35 mins. Know your oven and if it tends to be hotter or colder*, adjust cook time as necessary.

When the timer goes off, test the center in several places with a toothpick. As long as it doesn’t come out goopy, you’re good! (crumbs on the toothpick is fine) I say test in several places because if you accidentally go through a piece of apple, your toothpick may come out slightly wet, but that doesn’t mean the pancakes aren’t done. If it's not done, cook in intervals of 5 minutes, testing each time the timer goes off.

Take pan out and use a butter knife or a pie serving spatula and poke around the edges of the pan to free the pancake traybake from the edges. Let cool for 10 minutes.

Cut into squares. I tend to cut 12 pieces, but you could go smaller or larger depending on how much you intend to eat at once.

*How do I know if my oven runs hot or cold, you may ask? If any recipe you make comes out raw and/or takes longer to cook than the instructions say, your oven is colder! If your food ends up burnt and/or takes less time to cook than the recipe instructions say, your oven is hotter!

Enjoy! I eat two squares at a time and it makes a good breakfast! For storing, put however much of it you can eat in 2-3 days in the fridge. Store the rest in the freezer.

For any customizing other than what I did, use whatever fruit, spices, syrups, and/or protein powders you want! Just be aware that more fruit in the batter means it may take longer to cook!

If you make them, either the same way I did here or differently, let me know how they came out!

OLD EDIT: After some experimentation, it seems like the pancakes come out more moist if baked for 35 minutes at 375°F! I also soak the apple pieces in a cup of “Apple Blood Tea” (find it on adagio teas, it’s super delish!) with honey at the beginning of the process, then add the ‘marinated’ apples and half a cup of the tea into the batter.

NEW EDIT 09/2024: I just changed the recipe whether it needed changing, since I realized that changing stuff behind the readmore didn’t transfer to previously reblogged posts 😫 I also added image descriptions.

[nephilimeq]

I Think This is How Love Goes

Prompt: Love Notes

@bucktommyfluffebruary

AO3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/62721625/chapters/160930972

Buck was still riding the high of the stargazing date that his boyfriend had taken him on several nights before, and he was certain that he’d bored the entire 118 crew by talking about it non-stop—even going far enough that Bobby had snapped at him, saying, “Okay! We get it, Buck. You have an amazing boyfriend. Just…dial it back a bit, alright?” and he had started keeping his thoughts to himself.

He had just come off shift—but instead of going to Tommy’s place (soon to be their place) he had reluctantly come home to his apartment.

His quiet, mostly empty apartment.

As he shuffled through the front door, he didn’t bother to put his shoes away properly, kicking them off to the side, dreading to see what he had to eat. Tommy had forced him to stock up on some food, saying that even if he wasn’t really living there anymore, he needed to make sure that he was eating well, and he couldn’t slack off just because he knew that they were going to be moving in together—though Buck argued that there wasn’t really a point in keeping food there as it would most likely go bad.

He let out a sigh as he moved to open the fridge…

…and then was confused when he saw a bright pink sticky note on the milk.

“What’s this?” he muttered to himself as he reached down and pulled it off—and then he recognized his boyfriend’s handwriting as he read, you just bought this, it’s still good for three weeks ;), and Buck smiled.

He then remembered that he had pancake mix and that he could use the milk for that and even finish off his eggs.

With that in mind, he reached for his eggs…and found another sticky note: you have eight eggs left, you need more :) Buck smiled and pulled the note off and grabbed the eggs, slowly folding the sticky note and putting it with the other one in his pocket.

He made the pancakes, had breakfast, and then went to start packing a few more things to take over to Tommy’s place—their place, he mentally corrected himself, feeling a surge of excitement at the thought, still not quite believing that a few days ago his boyfriend had stood across from him in his apartment and asked him to move in with him, erasing over the bad memory that had come before. Buck knew that it wouldn’t be perfect, but it would definitely be worth it.

As he moved a few books to the side, he noticed a flash of pink on one of them.

Curious, he pulled out the book to see another sticky note, this time with the words, I have a copy of this if you don’t want to have pack it :), and Buck laughed and shook his head, wondering when Tommy could have put it there…but then decided that it didn’t matter.

God, his boyfriend was cute.

--

The next one he found was when he was cleaning one of the station’s engines, of all places, and was baffled when he was in the front cab on the driver’s side and found a pink sticky note down near the footwell that said, still cleaning? good ;) stay safe, and Buck shook his head.

While it was adorable, how the hell had he gotten it in there without anyone from the 118 noticing?

Still, it was cute.

Smiling, he folded it up and slipped it into his front pocket and went to finish cleaning—and then Bobby called out, “Hey, Buck! You about finished there?” and he shouted back over his shoulder, “Yeah, almost! Just gotta finish up the cab,” and his captain nodded.

“When you’re done with that, come on up here. Wanna show you a new recipe.”

Buck immediately lit up at his words, and finished as quickly as he could, and was not disappointed when he went up to the loft and Bobby had a spread of ingredients already out and ready to be put into a new dish. He paid close attention as his captain gave him instructions, remembering as best he could so that he could try it out on his own once he and Tommy had officially moved in together…and at that thought, he did his best to hide his grin, as he hadn’t told anyone yet that his boyfriend had asked him to move in.

“Well, you certainly seem to be in a good mood,” Bobby said as he added some chile powder to a small bowl, and Buck shrugged and replied, “Yeah, well…I’m having a good day. Aren’t I allowed to be in a good mood when I’m having a good day?”

Bobby chuckled and nodded.

“Yeah, you are, just…it just seems like more than that. Like, something new is going on in your life. Wait,” he added with a wary glance. “This isn’t still about that stargazing date that Tommy took you on, is it? Because as much as I’m happy that you’re happy, kid, if I hear about that one more time—”

“No, no. It’s not about that,” Buck interjected. “It’s just…well, I haven’t mentioned it to anyone yet, but Tommy…he-he asked me to move in with him. And I said yes.”

There was a moment of silence…

…and then he let out a sigh of relief when Bobby grinned and clapped him hard on the back and said, “Congratulations, kid! It’s about time!” and he nodded and focused on slicing the potatoes in front of him. Bobby then commented, “You’ve been practically living over at his place already for the past month or so, glad to see you two are finally taking the next step together. He’s a good fit for you, and I’m sorry I ever thought otherwise.”

Wait, what?

Feeling slightly affronted, he paused mid slice and said, “Wait…since when did you not think Tommy was a good fit for me?”

His captain stopped stirring the sauce he was making…and then let out a long sigh and said in a reluctant tone, “Back when you two first broke up. I knew you hadn’t done the breaking up, so I was sort of…a bit upset with him for a while. Okay, maybe I was also angry at him,” Bobby admitted, putting down the bowl onto the counter and leveling his eyes at the younger firefighter. “He broke your heart, Buck, how could I not be angry? I’d never seen you happier with anyone than you were with him, and then he dumped you and…yeah. I was angry at him.”

Buck nodded and replied, “Okay, yeah, I get that, but…still. Tommy’s not a bad guy, you know that, right?” and his captain threw back his head and laughed.

“Ha! Yes, I do know that, now. I was just...feeling protective of you, I guess. I don’t like people that make you that depressed, kid,” he said, reaching out and lightly rubbing at his shoulder in a reassuring manner, and he leaned into the touch.

Yeah, okay. That made sense.

He finished slicing the potatoes and then turned to the fridge to get a bottle of water…and balked when he saw another pink sticky note.

Wondering how the hell his boyfriend was doing it, he picked up the water bottle and then looked at the note left on it, which read, keep drinking water, baby. love you ;), and he felt a mixed bag of emotions. Like, he loved the fact that his boyfriend was leaving him notes everywhere…but how was he leaving notes everywhere?? How had he gotten access to parts of the 118 that Buck knew he hadn’t stepped foot in in months?

“Uh, Cap…has Tommy been around the station recently?” he asked, and the man replied, “Nope, not since he dropped off those cookies he baked…hmm, been a while since we’ve had those. Think he would make them again sometime?” and Buck let out a sound from the back of his throat and continued to stare at the note.

Still, just like with all the other ones, he folded it up and slipped it into his pocket.

--

“Here, lemme help you with that,” Chim said as Buck dropped off the muffins that he had made back at his apartment in an attempt to get rid of some of the last of his baking supplies before moving over to Tommy’s place.

“Thanks again for taking these,” Buck said, walking into his sister and brother-in-law’s home. “I just needed to finish baking some of my stuff, you know? No depression baking this time,” he joked, looking around for his favorite niece…and then within seconds he was tackled by a blurred figure in a fairy costume.

“Unca Buck! Look!”

Reaching down, he swung her up into his arms and said, “Whaddaya want me look at, Jee?” and she extended one hand and he saw a clear plastic jar with a lid on it…and bright pink folded up paper inside. “Well, now, what’s this?” he asked, curious—and then was taken off guard when his niece grinned and said, “Unca Tommy left it for me! He said is for you, too!” she added with a giggle, and Buck’s heart skipped a beat.

He then tugged the jar from her hand and managed to pop the lid off…

…and his breath left him when he recognized his boyfriend’s handwriting on the first piece of paper he pulled out.

It read, to Evan, I love you and hope you don’t forget that Jee can have as many of her toys at our place as she wants :) , and all he wanted to do at that moment was to leave and find his boyfriend at the 217 and pull him into the tightest hug that he could muster…but then he wondered how Tommy could have even pulled it off.

Curious, he bounced Jee on his hip and followed Chimney into the kitchen, where Maddie was sitting at the counter with her laptop, and said, “Hey, has Tommy been over here without me?” and they both nodded, acting as if it wasn’t a big deal.

“Yeah, he took a look at our car when it was making that noise,” Maddie said, barely looking up from her computer, sipping at her tea.

Chimney added, “And thank god for that! The mechanic was going to charge us nearly eight hundred dollars for something Tommy was able to fix for less than fifty, and he wouldn’t even let us pay him, so we had to give him food in exchange. Have I told you how glad I am that you two are finally moving in together, by the way? It’ll be nice to have one person to go to in order to get our cars looked at without worrying that my entire savings will be drained,” he said as he went ahead and took a bite from one of the blueberry muffins Buck had made.

“Mmm! Good!”

Buck nodded and smiled halfheartedly, barely noticing the way Jee had pulled out a magic marker out of nowhere and was coloring over one of his tattoos.

“Yeah, did he, uh…leave something here with Jee the last time he was here? Like this?” he said, waving the clear plastic jar with sticky notes in it, and Maddie nodded and said, “Oh, yeah, he did! He said it was full of little notes she could read and share with other people when they were having bad days…but she wouldn’t share it with us. Jee insisted that it was only for her and you…”

Buck did his best to blink away the moisture that gathered at the corner of his eyes at realizing all that his boyfriend had done.

--

“So, how exactly did you get those sticky notes into the engine and the station refrigerator?” he asked his boyfriend later that night while they lay naked in bed, and Tommy chuckled and pressed a kiss to his forehead and said, “Oh, I’ll never tell…”

Buck thought about pushing it…

…but then decided that it didn’t matter.

God, he loved him.

[coff-in]

You know that last post about Andy being a reluctant sex maniac? It occurs to me if he really could just bust that hard on a daily basis, he'd probably like to experiment a little with it (maybe in a way that won't put someone in a hospital though). Say maybe you're stuck without food so he makes a, say, special bowl of clam chowder- extra thick and salty, just for you. (No you can't ask how he made it. It's a secret. Shut up. No don't share it with Ashley she can get something on her own.)

Then, by some miracle, you actually like it enough that you might try it again later, and he feels like just hearing that feedback gave his body the express command to refill right the fuck back up with enough for another few batches. Then, if he gets the food needed (probably from a more resourceful [reader] scrounging up some more ingredients) he starts putting it in other things he makes when nobody else is looking- the mayonnaise in your sandwich, the glazing of some rolls, the batter for some pancakes, a special protein shake- you think he's really on a roll with learning new recipes and getting some passion for the culinary arts during these rough days, but at the heart of it he's really just gotten addicted to the thought of filling you up with his jizz.

Somehow I think Ashley would do something similar- though she probably wouldn't be as good at hiding it or being too subtle. If it wouldn't be putting her cum into random things you and Andy had to eat, it'd be her bargaining a random neighbor off to a devil so she can lactate at will, then insisting on pouring you all a nice glass of milk for breakfast each day. And if she ever actually gets to know about Andrew and sees he's also doing funny shit with what you've been serving, she'd egg him on to go further and combine their "resources" to see what they can get away with, and ask for discreet lessons in cooking so she can feed you her own tainted dishes. And you'd be so, so incapable of just turning the two down, because as far as you know, hey, they made it for you! Poor, immature Ashley learned to make something nice from her sweet big brother just to make you happy! You wouldn't turn down a helping of special-made, sugar-glazed, extra-protein pancakes just because they taste a little off sometimes, would you?

notes from coff-in: reluctant sex maniac andrew my beloved <3 you guys don't understand the emotion i felt waking up at 6 o'clock in the morning and seeing that in my inbox. went through several stages of disgusted, amused, and horny. andrew must be tired slinging that huge log between his legs, having everyone tease him about that thick outline in his pants or the round bulge... he could hide it in me if he wants to

[gender neutral] reader-insert, NSFW

if [reader] was like me they'd eat anything edible without question. andrew hands them fucking extra creamy clam chowder and [reader]'s like "aw hell yeah, thanks :)" like NOO??? where tf did he get EXTRA CREAMY CLAM CHOWDER??? and why can't ashley eat any??? wouldn't question anything, just thankful to be eating something while stick in quarantine

the "mayo" sandwich is so funny for that fan service/horny potential because maybe andrew adds too much and when [reader] takes a bite, the mayo just squirts out the sandwich from the other end. they scoop it up with their fingers and then suck it, running their tongue over their fingers going "mmmh! it's kinda salty but it's tastes good!" andrew's watching [reader] eat with wide eyes and feels another batch weighing heavy in his balls, waiting to enter [reader]

i like to think that in this scenario that [reader] is good friends with andrew and ashley. yeah sometimes [reader]'s eyes wander towards andrew's uncomfortably, unreasonably big and needy endowments (never letting that go) but they still like andrew for the cynical english nerd that he is and ashley for the annoying and teasing girl that she is. i think that's how ashley came to think "yeah... i wanna feed them my fluids"

she'd be so teasing about it, hinting that it's "made with love" and it's a "family recipe" while they drink coffer made with her breast milk (maybe it's a breast milk tea for [reader] if they don't like coffee). it's a crazy thought seeing ashley standing over a dead body in the middle of a pentagram talking to a demonic entity "i want to be able to lactate" crazy...

andrew and ashley sneak around the kitchen so they could have their "cooking lessons" while [reader] is sleeping. i think [reader] would try to make them something in return, an honest and genuine attempt at a meal to say thank you to them "i know it's not as good as your food but i really appreciate you guys and the food you've been making me" it touches andrew and ashley's hearts

they get off to the idea of [reader] taking the "special ingredients" straight from the source :3

----

coff-in

[dead-sirens]

Regressor! Daryl Dixon one-shot

A day in the life of little!Daryl

Summary: A day in the life of little!Daryl discovering the world around him.

Content: Age Regression, SFW, gender neutral caregiver.

Notes: Daryl calls his caregiver "deer" because it sounds so similar to "dear" and I like wordplay

Word Count: 1.5k

This isn't beta proofed I just was very excited because someone told me they liked my stories and I had to write this, I have tons of work piling up but I dont care I love Daryl more than I love my job.

He didn’t quite understand what happened, one day he woke up and everything felt… different. Not a bad thing he realized, just weird. Everything seemed bigger, brighter, softer, and he actually liked it, he felt at peace and his heart was lighter than usual. And you were there with him, so he knew everything was fine.

Daryl regressed, that’s what you called it: he regressed to a child-like state. At first you were a little worried, you’d never seen anything like it before, but soon you understood it was harmless and he always came back to his adult self happier than ever, so you just went along with it and became his caregiver when he needed it.

Today was one of those days.

Daryl woke up beside you in your shared bed, he blinked twice and took his time absorbing his surroundings, a little smile on his face as he climbed out of the bed and walked barefoot to the window.

“Daryl?” he heard you call his name and looked towards you without moving from his place “Why are you up so soon?” you were still half asleep and didn’t notice the boy was regressing.

“I want pancakes, deer” you fully woke up when you heard his voice, small and soft, calling you by that special nickname he only used when regressed, you looked at him, your heart melting at the sight: your boy was standing in front of the window, a pillow under his arm, his hair was a mess and on his face he had the cutest puppy eyes, waiting for your response.

When you didn’t answer him immediately it occurred to him that he hadn’t asked properly so he tried again “Can we have pancakes, please?” 

“Of course, honey, just give me a minute, yes?” Daryl nodded with a big smile, all proud of himself for asking politely.

He decided to follow you around the house, not wanting to be apart from you for a long time. He didn’t grab your hand but walked behind you while you washed your face, changed your clothes and then made your way towards the kitchen.

One of the perks of living in Alexandria was the access to food and being able to cook on a working stove. When he was regressed, Daryl loved helping you out in the kitchen, before meeting you he didn’t have anyone who would care enough to cook a warm meal for him, so it was his favorite thing to watch you cooking, it made him feel loved.

He knew this recipe by heart and, while you were getting the stove ready, he carefully took all the ingredients out and started mixing them in a big bowl.

“Such a good boy” you hummed when you saw him “Why don’t you go play a little while I finish the pancakes, honey?” 

His face lit up and he ran upstairs to the attic, in the end of the world there weren’t a lot of toys but that didn’t stop him from collecting various trinkets and handmade things to play with. When Daryl regressed he didn’t talk much, he mostly enjoyed being outside and finding new treasures to keep. He heard a car motor in the distance and went straight to the big trunk on the corner and took out his handmade toy carts, getting them ready for a race.

“This one is yours, red” he muttered while putting an old sardine can with four bottle caps nailed to the sides of it on the road with the other carts.

Daryl knew how to pass the time by himself, when he was a kid he didn’t have anyone else to play with so he knew how to maintain himself occupied, he had three races when you called him to get breakfast.

After four smiley pancakes and a glass of milk he was ready to keep going “Can we go to the cabin, deer?” he asked you, his big eyes filled with hope of spending his whole day exploring the forest with you.

“Sure, baby, anything you want” you really couldn’t say no to him, he was the most precious thing and you didn’t have the heart to deny him of anything he wanted.

The cabin was safe, Daryl himself had found it some months ago and secured it for when the two of you needed an escape from the happy people of Alexandria, and it also served as a playing spot when he was regressed.

You packed everything you needed, which wasn’t much really, just a few pb&j sandwiches and the capri-sun’s you’ve been saving for a day like this. You knew Daryl didn’t have the most amazing childhood and wanted to give him everything he missed but when he was in his adult state he didn’t want any of it, so you waited until he was regressed to spoil him.

Daryl liked to roam around the forest, you walked down the clear path to the cabin and he soon disappeared into the trees, but you didn’t worry about him because even in his most vulnerable form he was still a skilled hunter and cautious enough to be safe. When you arrived at the old building he reappeared behind you, leaves in his wild hair, carrying a bunch of rocks in his arms.

“I got you these” was the only thing he said before leaving the rocks on the wooden floor of the porch and running back to the forest.

Daryl loved being outside when regressed, he knew he was regressed, his mind felt foggy and he was conscious enough to understand what was happening, but being in that state of mind allowed him to enjoy the things he loved without the burden of everything else in the world falling apart. He walked around, observing everything with wonder and amazement.

He followed a trail of ants for a while and left some cookie crumbs from his pocket outside of their anthill; then got distracted with the singing of a bird in the sky and tried to track where it was coming from and ended up climbing an old orange tree, picking some to bring back to you.

You were sitting on the porch, embroidering one of Daryl’s sweaters per his request, when you saw him coming back from afar, a small laugh escaped your lips when you noticed he brought a sack full of oranges with him and a squirrel on his shoulder.

“Do you want a snack, honey?” you said, already pulling out the sandwiches and drinks for him.

“Are they cut in triangles, deer?” 

“What do you think, buddy?” you teased him “Of course they are!”

You two had lunch together and then he packed his juice in the bag he carried everywhere and disappeared once again, leaving you to put away the thousand oranges he left on the porch.

Daryl walked carefully to his favorite spot, he tried to bring you there once but you couldn’t go through the log bridge that, even if it looked sturdy enough for you to walk over it, gave you vertigo. It was his special spot: a small flower field full of butterflies. It was the most beautiful place he’d ever seen.

So he sat on a tree stump and took his juice out, breathing softly, the day was coming to an end, he could feel it by the way the sky started to dim a little, so he decided to enjoy the last bit of it while drinking his apple juice.

When he was finished he grabbed the prettiest flowers that reminded him of you and made his way back to the cabin, where you were waiting him with the finished sweater on your hands and your backpack ready to go back home.

“Here, honey, put this on” you waited for him to get closer “It’s getting cold out here, we have to go back.”

“I brought you these” he gave you the flowers and put on the sweater “We can dry them and they’ll last forever, deer”

One thing that surprised you when you started interacting with Daryl’s regression was his DIY talents, he knew how to do everything you could think of: drying flowers, making bracelets with twigs, preserving food and taxidermy. 

“Sure, honey, we can keep them with the others”

When you made your way back it was already dark, Daryl wanted to go to bed already, exhausted by a day full of adventures, but you made him have dinner and a shower before, you knew he’d be fussy the next day if he didn’t. Once he was done with the shower and had his pajamas on you tucked him in.

“Do you want a story or a song, baby?” you asked, sitting by his side on the bed, his eyes were already half-closed, a tiny smile making you melt.

“A story, pwease…” he yawned, weakly tugging your sleeve, wanting to have you close to him.

“Sure, baby, anything you need” you smiled and grabbed the storybooks you had stashed on your nightstand, caressing his hair while reading the book to him. 

The day ended, and you didn’t know if you’d see your little boy anytime soon but you were content he had a good day and hoped his heart was happy when you heard him snore a little; you put the book away and placed a soft kiss on his forehead “Sleep tight, baby”

I really enjoyed writing this, In the future I'll write more of caregiver!daryl but today I was in the mood for him being little and having a good day :)

[kondensaduhhh]

TF2 Mercs: Cooking HCs

all the mercs can cook, theyre all grown men ffs, but they're just better at certain things than the rest of them

this long as hell😭😭 good god, didnt expect it to be this long

first of all; Scout. Scout can absolutely cook, i personally think that a single mother who raised 7 sons is, first of all, a badass, and secondly, will not tolerate any of that "Women belong in the kitchen" bullshit, she taught her sons how to do basic life skills.

while, yeah, Scout can cook, he cooks breakfast foods best. sure, hes a little flinchy when the bacon starts poppin' but nothing he cant handle. He makes the best pancakes, toast, french toast, bacon, eggs, hell, the mercs don't get it but somehow even the way Scout makes cereal and milk in a bowl was better.

he doesnt measure either, he just eyeballs everything, which was one if the reasons he could bake for the life of him, no matter how many times his Ma and bros taught him. he makes killer milkshakes though.

Pyro!! idc idc hes a grown adult, hes not gonna burn anything, least of all the kitchen, he's too experienced with fire for such an imbecilic notion. Pyro's the best at making desserts, not really baking, he knows the basics, but not really his forte. Pyro made everyone's opinion on jell-o turn positive, theyre just that good. he can make flans, hard candy, ice cream, if its a dessert he can probably make it. everyone's favorite of his tho is caramel popcorn

Soldier usually either burns food or undercooks it but for some reason only when it's a shallow fry, he's great at deep frying and grilling, like hes super serious abt it, like he never lets whatever it is hes cooking out of his sight, he doesn't set up a timer or thermometer, its like he just knows when the food is fully cooked, he almost looks catatonic as he just stands there completely still watching the food cook but immediately starts yelling at his usual full volume when some tries to sneak in a bite of the food that IS finished cooking.

the demoman. most of Demo's food will usually have a very vague taste of alcohol in it, barely noticeable, the other mercs only realise it when they find out who cooked it. Demo's food always tastes great, unfortunately he can only make it once and he won't be able to recreate it, they're almost always just random ingredients that he somehow turns into a masterpiece.

although, there is one recipe he can make completely the same without fail, and it's his mum's favourite soup.

the engineer is the best at baking, with countless family recipes memorised and tweaked by his engineering prowess, it really is no competition. hes on par with Soldier in the grilling department, used to be a problem whenever they wanted to grill, and the two would butt heads, Heavy always put a stop to it before shit got too out of hand. at the end, it was Soldier who was the main griller, and Engie settled on making the casseroles and biscuits.

when it starts to get cold, everybody (ahemscoutahem) begs Heavy to make soup. While being in the mountains for 20ish years, Heavy found a lot of ways to make soup, from thin, brothy soups, to creamy, sticks-to-your lips soups. Fortunately, they dont have to beg for long since Heavy is always happy to cook his comfort foods for his friends, and while yes he does have to substitute most of the protein, the mercs dont see a problem with any of it, even though Heavy says it's not the same because it's not bear meat.

Medic can cook, it just so happens the only foods he can make without the aid of a written recipe are German dishes. He doesn't have much of a relationship with food, but can cook, but he does like to experiment which often gets tested out by either Pyro (bc he can stomach pretty much anything somehow), Sniper (bc Medic still wants to know if the food is edible and Pyro kinda doesn't count, and Sniper is the least picky with food), and Scout (this is mostly bc Sniper called him a pussy when he commented on the food)

Spy barely, very rarely will make food for the team, but if his ego was stroked enough he just might make a French dessert where he would pretty much blockade the kitchen bc French desserts are 'extremely fragile' hes exaggerating ofc, he just wants the kitchen to himself. while he does appear to be quite cold to the team, he does care for them and will, occasionally, not always, make them smth to eat when he notices smth amiss, he wont let them know its him (but they know, bc who else would elegantly plate smth as simple as frozen waffles?)

and finally Sniper. Sniper, if alone, would only eat what is necessary, not very picky either, has and will eat scorpions again if necessary. but whenever its his turn to cook for the team he always cooks family recipes, he has a box filled with index cards with his mum's handwriting, ranging from bread recipes, to a 3-day marinated beef stew. he usually just cooks the pasta soup and rice soups tho for stretchability of the dish

[insertusernamethere]

Yandere chubby man sequel

Hi ! It has been quite some time since my last post. I have been busy recently with my work and studies. I am also working on a new projet can't wait to publish it ^^ Anyway here is a small sequel to my yandere chubby man Charles~ Enjoy <3

Previous story -> Yandere chubby man

Also here an AI picture of Charles to give you an idea of what this adorable man looks like <3

Charles awoke with the first light of dawn, as he did every morning. He stretched, his large frame creaking with the effort, and slipped his feet into his worn slippers. The house was quiet as he made his way downstairs, the familiar path to the kitchen lit only by the soft morning light filtering through the windows. T

oday was no ordinary day. Today, Charles would finally have the chance to prove himself to Y/N, the baker who had captured his heart months ago. He hummed a tune under his breath, a smile playing on his lips as he gathered the ingredients for breakfast: eggs, flour, sugar, and milk. He followed the recipe he had memorized, measuring each ingredient carefully into the bowl.

Cracking the eggs was always the trickiest part for him. His strong, chubby fingers weren't made for such delicate tasks, but he had practiced until he could do it without leaving a single shell fragment behind. He whisked the mixture together, his mind wandering to thoughts of Y/N.

He imagined them in his kitchen, wearing his apron—far too big for their slender frame, but charming nonetheless. He pictured himself coming up behind them, wrapping his arms around their waist, and kissing their neck, his hands slowing moving down… The thought made him blush, and he shook his head to clear the daydream. With the batter ready, Charles heated the pan and began to cook the pancakes. He stacked them high on a plate, drizzled them with maple syrup, and added a fork and knife.

Balancing the plate in one hand, he made his way upstairs. As he walked down the hallway, he heard muffled noises coming from the guest room. His heart swelled with a mix of excitement and nervousness. He had planned this day meticulously, down to the sleeping pills he had dosed precisely, thanks to his chemistry studies in college. He opened the door softly, a gentle smile on his face.

"Good morning, my love," he said, his voice warm and tender. "I hope you slept well. I'm going to let some light in, alright?"

He placed the plate on the small table beside the bed and drew back the curtains, flooding the room with sunlight. Y/N stirred, their eyes fluttering open as they tried to speak, but the words came out garbled.

"It's okay," Charles soothed, moving to block the direct sunlight from their face. "Don't try to talk. The medicine is still affecting your speech. I made you some breakfast. I know they're not as good as yours, but these are made with love."

He ignored the sound of chains rattling against the bed frame as he cut a piece of pancake and held the fork out to Y/N.

"Here, let me feed you. Breakfast is the most important meal of the day, you know. What kind of husband would I be if I let my lover start the day with an empty stomach? Come on, eat up now."

His eyes gleamed with a mix of adoration and something darker, something that hinted at the lengths he was willing to go to keep Y/N by his side.

[slavic-roots-western-mind]

Breakfast foods in China

Since arriving in China my typical breakfast has changed quite a lot (hello baozi and mung bean paste!) so I decided to explore some common local breakfast foods eaten in China!

包子 - Bāozi (my love) These have been an almost consistent (excluding the lunar new year when the canteens and most cafes and restaurants closed) staple of my breakfast ever since I arrived in China. They come with several fillings such as veggie, pork, seafood etc. and they can cooked in different ways such as being steamed, fried etc. Here's a more in-depth post about the types of dumplings and bāo.

粥 - Porridge (zhōu) I sometimes have porridge for lunch instead and it's a really filling meal. I get the Century Egg Congee with Chicken - 皮蛋瘦肉粥 (Pídàn shòu ròu zhōu) and it's one of my all time favourite meals.

煎饼 - Egg pancake (jiānbing) Popular also as a street food, this is a thin crepe type pancake with an egg, veggie, spice, sauce and sometimes meat filling. The actual filling varies as you can customize what veggies and spice level you'd like and whether or not you want meat.

热干面 - Hot and dry noodles (règānmiàn) I honestly had no idea about this dishes existence until a while ago, probably because it's a regional dish originating from Wuhan which is kind of far away from my location. These are spicy and dried noodles which are actually eaten without a broth unlike many other noodles. They seem pretty interesting so if anyone tried them before do share your experience!

桂林米粉 - Guilin Rice noodles (guìlín mĭfĕn) This appears to be another regional dish from Guilin, Guanxi as I had no idea that this was a also a pretty popular breakfast dish. Apparently it's not the noodles but rather the broth that they're cooked in that makes them special, with the actual recepie varying across the region. Someone should do a long weekend trip vlog (pondering on this) to Guilin where they just go from store to store trying these noodles and trying to determine the differences.

葱油饼 - Scallion oil pancake (cōngyŏubĭng) A tasty but heavy-ish pancake imo. These pancakes are cooked with scallions (green onion) and pan-fried to give it that crispy and chewy texture. Very tasty, but it's a little too heavy on the oil for me so I save these pancakes for special occasions instead.

豆浆油条 - Soy milk and deep-fried dough sticks (dòujiāng yóutiáo) I have tried the dough sticks, and I have tried soya milk but separately so far. The dough sticks are these long deep-friend dough sticks, reminding me slightly of breadsticks but more lighter and chewier.

茶鸡蛋 - Tea eggs (chájīdàn) I adore these, my canteen serves them along with regular eggs for breakfast and the tea eggs are usually the first to go. They actually don't really involve tea, instead these eggs are cooked in a mixture of chinese five-spice powder (pepper, cloves, cinnamon, star anise and fennel seeds), soy sauce, and black tea leaves, although some recipes leave out the tea leaves. They have a relatively strong smell so I usually grab some for breakfast on the weekends or in the canteen at lunch if there are any leftover after breakfast. They are also quite cheap, one egg is around 2 yuan so around 0.30 euro, making them a pretty filling and affordable breakfast food.

If there are any other common or specific breakfast foods that you know of, do share them please as I love trying out new things!

[iluminated-goat]

*ripping sounds as I come out of my cocoon* hello guys!! I finally reappeared!! I'm working like a machine – a extremely slow machine on some ficlets and some comics of old man yaoi which will take some time to finish :'''''') but for now take this rambling of domestic stancest and housewife Stan!!

Also this is literally just me ranting about food (I fucking love food and characters who show their love through food fuck yeah). Also teen Stan would definitely give Old Ford a run for his money, this man is getting taken care of whether he wants or not

Stan, newly wed (which is something he’s still getting his head around), starts picking up the slack of the shack (yes the situation was that bad) until he manages to find a job or something to help around. Until then this man is cleaning that house and managing their finances like a drill sergeant. I know damn well he would have an aneurysm at the bare age of 17 if he’d seen Ford eating those nutritional pills, he’d be pulling out the family’s recipe book and stealing other recipes from the other shops of the town.

This man only goes insane at what he’s doing when he’s in the market, mentally (and successfully) counting how much he’s going to spend, which one of the fruits or vegetables is just a bit greenish but not enough to wait an eternity to mature or rot in just a few days, pickpocketing some candies (and jellybeans in the meantime), hunting those coupons like a hound dog. At the line, tapping his foot while waiting, he hears one of the Northwest’s workers make a whispered jab at him, of “how he’s so desperate he bedded with someone thrice his age” which is the sting at his insecurities and has him pissed.

If Stanford was already pampered at home this man has no idea what’s coming his way (not that he’s complaining). Stan is stepping up the game, he’s becoming the best housewife this town has ever seen out of complete spite. Like he’ll be bested by Preston fucking Northwest and his wife who was literally sold to him and isn’t even the one doing the lunches while he’s at work (or whatever rich people do). He just slams a thermo bag at Ford’s chest and goes “this better come home empty” and walks away without elaborating.

Ford, while in the Institute of Oddology, is curious for whatever his beloved had planned for him. He’s pleasantly surprised at the sight of cream puffs smeared with chocolate, a small plastic cup filled with jelly beans, braciole with sticky rice, a small covered bowl with seafood stew  and a coffee bottle tucked nicely to the side. After this, man’s hoarding his lunches like a dragon - he’ll only share them with Fidds, but other than that those are his, made by his beloved specifically and solely for him.

Man’s taking bombe alaska's, pieces of fudge lava cakes, baked pasta, fluffy onion breads, baked pineapple stuffed with shrimps, baked eggplants stuffed with italian sausages, stuffed rice cake with minced duck meat, bandeja paisa’s, cheesy bread, thick and creamy onion soup, pancakes filled with milk cream, passionfruit mousse, fried bean ball filled with shrimp and many others. Ford is being fed needless to say.

Fiddleford definitely teases him about it, but god knows how happy he is that his friend is finally taking care of himself for once (even if he’s being used as Stan’s guinea pig for his cooking). Their students even noticed that he looked more energetic, improvements in his mood and his strong form seemed fuller, healthier even. Stan has this man’s mind twisting and turning while in their shared bed for whatever the teen packed for him.

Also Stan’s an avid visitor in the Ramirez’s household, helping Abuelita with some errands or taking care of Soos (he adores the kiddo). Abuelita was nice enough to give him some advice on cleaning his home more efficiently: using a sheet to dust behind furniture, distribute chores in each day of the week or simply pick one day to do the cleaning, use warm soapy water on most things (keeps a nice smell and doesn’t… leave fingerprints??), and other things. He even tried using one of those pills his Ma used to take before cleaning only to never again (Ford was greeted by the sight of the entire house glistening in a worrying way, and him trying to aggressively clean the insides of their armchair).

Idk why but i feel like Stan’s one to pretend he doesn’t care for what people say about him (he does, a lot), but when someone he cares about compliments him, he melts. Ford comments about the cologne he likes to wear when he goes out? He definitely uses it more on their dates (alongside some perfumes that suddenly appeared in the bathroom). Sixer brought him some clothes he thought might look good in them? He’s wearing them until it’s threadbare. 

For some reason i also feel like Ford would be so fucking annoying over his partners. Anytime Stan has the slightest contribution to one of his researches or adventures he’s going “oh, yes, MY WIFE and i have discovered this” or “my WIFE found out about this” . Every single one of his students has heard about their professor’s mysterious partner at least once - some that once caught the things his “wife” cooked never felt so jealous in their entire lives.

And Ford’s definitely spoiling Stan back for all the things he’s doing (and because Stan drags him out of the house too). Going out on dinners, haunting the local fauna, watching over the town on the Floating Cliffs, travelling to other places, and of course, passionate nights. And if Ford notices that Stan’s stomach is a tad taut and swollen after some months, well, that’s just for him to know~

[brimstoneandstardust]

Working on Ares in chunks, and decided to tease this little snippet today because I thought you all might enjoy it;

“Can’t help it, baby, you make me crazy…” he purred to her, making her moan quietly and rock up against him, his hand teasing between her legs. “Besides, we gotta take our time where we can. In case—“

There was a heavy footstep on the stairs above them, and Vinnie froze, ears perked.

“Um, sorry to interrupt,” Modo’s voice called, clearly at the foot of steps now, the only thing shielding their full exposure being the flimsy plywood. “Is it safe to come down?”

Vinnie sat back and let out the longest, loudest, most annoyed sigh of his life. “Sure. If you must.”

Charlie pulled him down and gave him a little consolation kiss. “Later, hot shot.”

Vinnie whined softly but nodded. “I’ll see if I can’t get rid of him. Keep the engine warm for me, sweetheart.”

He teased her again and Charlie swallowed the sound she wanted to make, swatting at him and pulling the blankets hurriedly over her.

Vinnie stood, and slipped out of the little room, spotting Modo now in the partial kitchen area of the garage which was really just a couple counters, a sink, a mini fridge, a microwave and an electric griddle that he was in the process of warming up.

“Um, bro?”

Modo looked up at him, searching through cabinets for ingredients. “Yeah bro?”

The easy, unbothered way he replied had Vinnie looking at him like he had grown a second head and it took Modo a moment to notice.

“It’s not even 5 am. What are you doing?”

The grey furred mouse shrugged, “Couldn’t go back to sleep, so I figured I’d get a head start on breakfast.”

Vinnie nodded, still flabbergasted. “Oh well…could you maybe come back to it in like…15 minutes?”

There was a noise from inside the plywood room and Vinnie corrected; “Make that 30.”

Modo smiled in a way that let Vinnie know he was perfectly aware of what he had interrupted. “Gee, sorry, but Daisy gets up with the sun—if you hadn’t noticed—and I don’t know if it’s this Earth air or what but that child is hungry. And I’m not about to let my little flower petal go without.”

He grinned at Vinnie, “And um…maybe you should invest in a robe while we’re here, bro. Your boxers are at half-mast…”

Vinnie’s face went pink under his fur and he bit his lip hard, caught between laughing and making Modo eat the spatula he was holding. “Very cute, very cute…but seriously? You can’t spare a mouse 30 minutes?”

Modo shrugged. “See Vin, I’ve already wasted like 10 on this conversation. And by the time I finish, you know you’ll only have like maybe 5ish left? And that’s hardly fair…”

“Boy someone woke up on the wrong side of the couch this morning!”

The grey furred mouse shook his head, the teasing gone, his tone softening.  “No, it’s not that, guess I’m just restless and need to keep busy. I’m sorry.”

Vinnie sighed, pressing himself against the counter until his situation resolved itself. “Nah it’s okay, I get it. Kiddo comes first. Pancakes then?”

“Just like mama used to make.” Modo nodded, pulling out the pancake mix and the gallon of milk that was nearly half empty now.

Vinnie watched him, easing into the comfortable motions of these mundane tasks. “This one of Jessie’s recipes?”

Modo chuckled quietly again. “Your sister could do a lot of things, but cooking wasn’t one of them. I always wore the apron strings in our relationship.”

Vinnie nodded, wistful. Neither said anything for a long quiet moment. There were no words needed to express the wave of missing they felt, the quiet grief they both shared.

After a few moments Modo looked at him again, offering a smile. “You know the first meal she ever tried to cook for me was some sort of chicken leg thing…looked great…but was still raw inside.”

Vinnie and laughed and cringed. “Gross!”

“Yeah…it sure was. She was so flustered. Only thing I could get her to make after that was sandwiches…” he stirred the pancake batter absently and Vinnie heard the faint crack in his voice as he added, “…sure do miss those sandwiches.”

Vinnie nodded, reaching across the space to squeeze his hand. “Hey big fella…don’t cry into the batter. It’ll be way too salty.”

Modo laughed rolling his eye, “You always know  just what to say.” He snarked.

[themelonthatisroyal]

How to Make Pancakes

You'll find a detailed ingredient list and step-by-step instructions in the recipe below, but let's go over the basics:

Pancake Ingredients

You likely already have everything you need to make this pancake recipe. If not, here's what to add to your grocery list:

· Flour: This homemade pancake recipe starts with all-purpose flour.

· Baking powder: Baking powder, a leavener, is the secret to fluffy pancakes.

· Sugar: Just a tablespoon of white sugar is all you'll need for subtly sweet pancakes.

· Salt: A pinch of salt will enhance the overall flavor without making your pancakes taste salty.

· Milk and butter: Milk and butter add moisture and richness to the pancakes.

· Egg: A whole egg lends even more moisture. Plus, it helps bind the pancake batter together.

How to Make Pancakes From Scratch

It's not hard to make homemade pancakes — you just need a good recipe. That's where we come in! You'll find the step-by-step recipe below, but here's a brief overview of what you can expect:

1. Sift the dry ingredients together.

2. Make a well, then add the wet ingredients. Stir to combine.

3. Scoop the batter onto a hot griddle or pan.

4. Cook for two to three minutes, then flip.

5. Continue cooking until brown on both sides.

This sounds easy 😯😁

[recreatemysoul]

tw

anything that may trigger you (ed,ana,restriction related or otherwise)

do not continue reading if this applies to you

this recipe yeilds 6 peices (i think)

ive just put it in the freezer so im not sure

NOTE: when i say tablespoons, its actually abit less than that because i used a smaller spoon and its not quite exact

although when i say "full tablespoon" its a normal measurment

Coconut Dark "chocolate"

cocoa powder - 5 full tablespoons (62 calories)

sugar - 3 teaspoons (49 calories)

coconut milk - 2 tablespoons (68 calories)

shredded coconut - 3 full tablespoons (100)

vanilla - 1 teaspoon (12)

Hot water - (i didnt measure this, i just start with a small amount to make sure the sugar melts) (but im gonna guess it was 2-4 full tablespoons)

dash of salt

Total Calories = 291

Calories per peice (if split into 6 peices) = 49 per peice

Instructions

Put the sugar and cocoa powder into a bowl - mix togther

Add in the hot water and mix well to ensure the sugar is melted and both sugar and cocoa powder is smooth

Add the vanilla, salt and coconut milk - mix until combined

Fold in the shredded coconut

line a container with parchment paper (i just just did a "normal" container - the average sized ones)

put into the freezer until firm

(Mine is still in the freezer so i have no clue how it would turn out)

alternitivly - you can put in a container without parchment paper - freeze for 1 hour, then take it out and wisk it, then put it back in the freezer for and hour, and keep repeating until you have your desired texture.

Note: i have not tried this but i will try it next, because i think it would go really good

EDIT: so its not too great on its own because, it complely freezes up and its almost frosty.

BUT - i did decide to chop them up into little squares and they work great as a chocolate substitute when mixed with other things.

i made banana oat flour pancakes and the chocolate peices melted and tasted GREAT. so either way, i will definetly be making this again!

[an-annyeoing-writer]

Baekhyun x Reader: three kisses.

Word count: 1 863

Genre: domestic fluff/romance

Author's note: Very happy to be releasing this request! I feel like my blog and mind have been lacking some sweet boyfriend Baek~❤️

The first one is in the early morning.

It is way too early as per your routine, but his starts along with the sunrise. He’s motivated and determined in his career, but he’s not a typical early bird. In fact, he suffers getting out of bed as much as you do by watching him. Your work starts a bit later. You’re hardworking too, but it’s him that disappears until late evening.

He glances at you to confirm you’re still asleep, and you don’t move, not betraying that he in fact just woke you up. Your eyes remain closed, but from the sound of sluggish, sleepy movements, you can tell that he’d rather not leave your side. He eventually has to.

You stay in your bed just a bit longer, until you smell the aroma of fresh pancakes coming from the kitchen.

Why is it always pancakes that make your heart flutter? You’d love him all the same if he made scrambled eggs or sandwiches instead. But the pancakes are different. Maybe because you know he doesn’t enjoy foods too sweet and you’re somewhat aware that he got used to making them for you. Maybe he doesn’t know he woke you up earlier, but he definitely plays this part to lure you out of the shared bedroom.

You come into the kitchen. It’s like in a cliché story – the man at the kitchen counter and his goddamn pancakes with whipped cream and blueberries. Except it’s Baekhyun, and his way of doing pancakes is not exactly like in the stories. He definitely doesn’t cook with nonchalant ease, the recipe is open on his smartphone that he already got some flour on, and, although every motion he makes is as precise as he can make it – he always does his best – there’s a pinch of chaos to his every action, that bit of milk that spills on the floor and he steps on it, or that bit of whipped cream that, despite all his best attempts, just doesn’t look right. And there’s a bug on one blueberry that almost makes him drop the whole bucket to the floor.

“I’m hungry” are your first words that he hears. You wrap arms around his torso from behind and rest your face on his back. He unfortunately has to move a lot to finish the pancakes, so the position is not as convenient as you’d like.

“Good morning to you too” he answers in a light tone. His hands work on spreading the dough on the hot pan, so you freeze behind him, not wanting him to get burned on accident. Such accidents happen way too often to the two of you.

“Are these for me?” you question nonchalantly, pointing at the pancakes already prepared.

“I need to leave soon, you’ll have the next batch, okay…?”

“I was just joking, I know. Sit down and eat, I’ll finish.”

He looks at you with uncertainty, as if he was afraid of disappointing you. He feels guilty for being selfish and taking the first batch, you guess.

You put hands on his cheeks and pull his face closer to yours, disregarding the morning breath. You press your lips into his and his facial muscles relax, comfortable again.

“You’re amazing, Hyun. Thank you for being here.”

The corners of his lips lift into a shy smile even despite morning grogginess still heaving at his features. You lead him to the table and put the pancakes in front of him.

The only thing he can think of is that the sweetness of your lips is one he couldn’t live without, even though it’s way sweeter than the pancakes.

The second one is throughout the day, although you wish it was material.

You just finished a video call that has drained all your strengths. Work is tough, and lately it’s even tougher. You’ll have to pull off some overtime soon, and your manager is struggling showing your team’s progress to the higher-ups, so it all falls on the team member’s shoulders. But that’s just a part of the work routine, you’ve been riding a high of extraordinary results for the past few months, and now is the time to humble down.

You left the call with fatigue wearing over you, realizing that there’s still a few painfully long hours until the shift ends. At least today you don’t have to stay too long.

Less than five minutes pass before your phone suddenly rings, and you get up from the table, excusing yourself into the office kitchen to pick it up.

“Hi, baby. How you doin’?”

“Take me hooooome” you let out a long whimper.

“Oh? Are you okay?” Baekhyun sounds concerned, but the dramatics in your tone, paradoxically, quickly calms him down. You wouldn’t sound like that if something serious happened.

You’d rant about your work later, you decided, for now all he needed to know was that you’re tired, you miss him, and you’d rather never leave his side again than keep being an independent, full-time employed woman. You spill all this information at him all at once, which makes him break into laughter, and you let out a long whine.

“Hyuuuuun!”

“Sorry, sorry” he tries to calm his voice down. “But you’re so cute when you’re dramatic.”

“Don’t call me dramatic!” you whine even louder. Someone passes by you, shooting you a dirty glance. “I know I am, just don’t call me that” you add quietly.

“There, there. Let’s talk about it when we’re home, okay? I need to go back to the practice, I was just on a break.”

You let out a sigh.

“Sorry for this. Yes, let’s talk later. Thank you for calling.”

“Don’t apologize. But you’re welcome. Miss you.”

“Miss you too.”

You hear a typical Baekhyun-ish “smooch” come from the phone, followed by someone’s teasing laughter in the background and Baekhyun’s “oh shut it” spoken a bit away from the mic. The call ends.

He may not have fixed any of your problems, but you feel much more at ease now, and all of sudden the work difficulties don’t seem so bad anymore.

The third one is in the late evening, when you two are finally back home again.

You’re already after shower and tucked into your bed, trying to relax with a book, although it’s not easy to focus after such an eventful day. You yearn for rest instead, and so the book rests in your hands but no pages go by. You’re more focused on your phone instead, mindlessly scrolling through social media.

But when you hear the apartment room open, your eyes snap up and you get up with newly acquired passion and energy.

He’s just as tired as you are, you can tell. He hangs his jacket by the door and you see how worn out his face is. But it lasts just moments before his eyes meet yours and his face immediately lights up.

“Baby!” is all he says with a wide smile when you wrap arms around his neck, pulling him into a hug that he reciprocates with his full strength.

“Oh, oh, you’re suffocating me” you choke out when his hold becomes a bit too much.

“Sorry, sorry” he says with his voice muffled by your own shoulder, but his hold doesn’t get much weaker. “I missed you. I had to stay late because we’re barely meeting deadlines lately. I’m sorry I didn’t pick you up.”

“That’s okay, I’m just happy you’re back. Let’s go to bed.”

“I need to shower, I…”

“Just come with me.”

The moment he releases you, you hold his hand and pull him to the bedroom, sitting him on the soft mattress. He doesn’t waste a second before laying down and melting into the sheets, suddenly deciding that maybe the idea of falling asleep right then and there isn’t so bad after all.

You lay down next to him and both of you stare at the ceiling above your heads. The light is dim, and through the window partly open, the evening breeze refreshes the air inside. Somewhere far below you hear noises of cars, driven by other people, probably on their ways to their own beloved ones as well.

Baekhyun’s hand brushes your pajama’s pants before finding your own. He intertwines his fingers with yours, lightly, the touch barely there, but the warmth present.

You hear him sigh, your breaths slowing down.

“I didn’t even take the shoes off” he finally notices, voice slightly whiny, but only as much as he can make it at this hour.

You breathe out a laughter when a small thought appears in the corner of your mind.

You push yourself off the mattress and his eyes follow you curiously when you get down on the floor in front of him. With delicate fingers, you take hold of one shoe and untie it, gently pulling it off his foot and placing on the floor. He lets out a pleased sigh when you do the same with the other. You finish the deed by giving his sock-clad feet a loving pat and then climb back onto the mattress.

“Thank you” he mumbles. “May I?”

Without waiting for your response, he takes your hands in his and brings to his lips. Although sluggish and sleepy, small kisses litter your fingers, palm, thumb, the surface, wrists…

“This is nice” you admit.

“You’ve worked hard, I want to treat you” he whispers into your skin.

“You don’t have to…”

“I want to.”

You’ve been laying on your side, facing him, but he takes his time pushing you on your back and rearranging pillows underneath your body. His movements are slow and sleepy, but patient and careful at the same time.

His lips trace up your arm, lingering here and there, breathing in the soft scent of your body and the shower gel you always use. His nose brushes your shoulder and you put your hand on top of his head, stroking it lightly in approval. Peck after peck, he warms up your neck as well, worshipping all small details of your anatomy.

Finally he slows down, lips pressing into your jaw, then chin.

He hovers above you, eyes finally meeting and the two of you staring at each other with adoration. He lets out a small chuckle.

“You love me so much” he states confidently.  

You don’t find it in yourself to tease him back.

“I do. Do you love me too?”

His smile disappears, although the tenderness is still there.

“Why do you ask?”

“I just like hearing you say that.”

Baekhyun’s gaze softens and the smile returns to his face. You briefly think that if he was any less tired, he would tease you some more. In the end, though, the result would be just the same.

He leans down into your ear. You can’t see his face from this perspective, but his voice is clearer than ever.

“I. Love. You.” He separates each word, stretching the full sentence, keeping you on your toes until the whole thing sounds out. “More than the world.”

“I love you too” you answer instantly.

The evening ends with the last one of tonight’s kisses.