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[souliebird]

[[addict]]

Series: Daredevil || Pairing: Matt Murdock x Fem!Reader || Rating Explicit

summary: Your life revolves around Matt. His does not revolve around you

Or: depression skews reality

wordcount: 5k

tags: depression, explicit sexual content, blood, angst, p in v sex, oral (male receiving)

---

Monday

You wake up alone. 

This is of no surprise to you, and you force yourself out of bed despite your desire to bury yourself into your covers and stay there. 

You stumble into the kitchen, feeling bleary and still half-asleep, and start the process of making coffee. You dump still warm grounds into the trash before filling the basket with your preferred blend and starting the little machine. You wash the mug lingering in the sink, then start making your breakfast. 

You don't need to think about your routine as you do it - you've done it hundreds and hundreds of times. You just do it. 

Coffee. Bagel. Orange. 

You watch the morning news highlights, listening but not taking in the various stories that flash on your screen. Fighting in Paris, all sorts of elections, Hollywood, and political scandals - it all washes over you without leaving an impression. None of it matters to you. None of it concerns anything Matt would be involved in.

Once you finish your small meal, you clean it up and switch your laptop over to your work VPN. 

It is nothing glorious. You translate legal documents from English into Spanish as a contractor for a handful of firms around the city. Very rarely is it anything of interest - a majority of it is human resources based - but it makes good money, and you don't need to commute. You stay in the apartment most of the day, trying your best to make it into a home.

As you think over word choice, you do chores. Laundry gets hauled down to the basement, the sink and shower get a deep clean to wash away any trace of blood, and you write out a grocery list. You dust and air out the apartment between paragraphs. You don't exchange many emails. You don't get any calls.

The hours pass in silence until your phone alerts you it is a quarter after five. You shut down your VPN and return to the kitchen. Chicken, rice, and vegetables will be tonight's dinner - you know it is a favorite and you've worked out the unspoken schedule to know this is the ideal day to serve it. You work quietly, half focusing on your knife work and half zoning out. 

Five minutes to the hour, the door to the apartment opens and Matt is home. 

“That smells wonderful, sweetheart,” he says as a greeting, dropping his things off at the front door. You can hear his practical movements as he puts everything in its right spot. 

“It should be done in ten minutes,” is your soft reply. That is just enough time for him to get settled in and drink about one third of a beer. It took you a few weeks to get the scheduling down right, but now you have it down to an art for various recipes. “How was your day?”

Without completely breaking attorney-client privilege, he tells you about the ongoings at the office and catches you up on whatever happened with Foggy and Karen over the weekend. As he does, he loosens his tie and takes a seat at the table. You place an ice-cold open bottle in front of him without fanfare, then flit back to the kitchen. 

Dinner switches the conversation to Daredevil. Matt tells you his plan for the night and you silently convert his words into future actions for yourself. He's going out with Jessica, which means more surveillance than fighting. You'll need to have ibuprofen ready, as spying tends to stress his senses rather than his body. 

You get a kiss before he goes to do his pre-Devil work out and another before he ascends the stairs to go into the night. He tells you not to stay up, but it's part of the script and you both know you'll be waiting for him right where he left you. 

Tuesday

“Foggy isn't going to believe me,” Matt grumbles as you gently pat concealer around his eye, covering the blooming bruise.  

“It's just absurd enough to be believable.”

“But it's the truth,” he huffs before his lips turn into a pout, “How does it look?”

You step back and examine the man in front of you. He has the start of a massive black eye and you can't help but feel bad for him. For once, this is not a Devil related injury - there was a freak accident with the shower. The water pressure in the building has somehow been cranked to maximum and your poor pipes are not equipped for that - the threads holding them together are barely there. They had no chance against suddenly being slammed into and there was no way Matt could have been prepared for the shower head to shoot off the wall and right into his face. 

You frown and your mood must shift because he deflates, “Foggy is not going to believe you.”

You set the makeup you specifically got to cover up his nightly hobby aside and push Matt's coffee towards him. He takes a long sip from it before throwing his head back with a groan.

“I've been doing so well,” he complains. There is some sort of swear jar-esque deal the two of them have going on about Matt's bruises, but you don't know all of the details. You do know Matt's lost a fair bit of money from it, though.

You pat his shoulder sympathetically before getting up and heading towards the kitchen to finish packing up his meals for the day, “This doesn't count.” 

“Will you tell that to Foggy?”

“I'll tell that to Foggy,” you promise.

You see him get up in the corner of your eye and disappear back into the bedroom to get dressed for work and you can't help but sigh. You'll give Matt's friends a heads up text so they don't freak out on him. Misunderstandings are bound to happen otherwise and they'll probably all have a laugh about it once the Devil's Pride is soothed.

You finish up packing lunch, a midday snack, and the ingredients for a hearty protein shake. Matt will be going to the gym right after work today, then from there will go out as the Devil. You aren't keen on him carrying his black suit around in his gym bag, but it's not something you're going to argue with him about. 

With how busy the office has been lately; he's been a bit scatterbrained about the smaller things. 

You've convinced him to at least drop off his bag on the roof as he starts his patrol, so he doesn't leave his day clothes at Fogwell’s overnight. You'll go up and collect them at some point, so they don't end up staying up there and getting forgotten about. 

You won't see Matt again until he comes home to sleep. 

You hope you'll be able to figure out how to fix the shower by then.

Wednesday

You put away the last of the clean dishes, then turn to face the apartment in front of you.

It's a beautiful day and light is streaming in through the windows, highlighting how stark everything is. Your laptop is waiting for you on the table, along with a mental list of things you need to get done today. 

But you don't want to. 

You don't want to do any of it. You don't want to do anything. You don't want to think. You don't want to feel. 

You just don't want to. 

So you wipe your hands on a dish towel, then make a bee line right back to bed and crawl in. You curl on your side, place your phone on Matt's pillow, close your eyes, and just Don't. 

You drift in and out until your bladder starts to demand you get up, so you do. You use the restroom then return to bed, checking your messages as you settle back in. 

There's one from Matt, asking if you would like Thai for dinner. You have no will to think about what you'd like to eat - honestly you don't want anything - so you tell him that Thai sounds great. You double check your alarm is set, then return to your nothingness. 

It's easy to get lost in Blankness. It's nice to not feel anything. The crushing negativity you are so used to is gone and all your disgusting thoughts are silent. 

You don't simmer in doubt that every action is wrong. 

You don't question why your life revolves around Matt. You don't think about how you would crumble without him or how he'd be fine without you. 

You don't consider what love is to him and how deeply rooted it is in just staying. You don't wonder if he just doesn't want to be alone again. 

You don't feel completely consumed in your feelings. 

You just are. 

Sometimes, you wish you could stay like this forever - suspended in emptiness. 

But then your alarm goes off and you have to be human again. 

You check your messages to make sure you really did get a text about dinner, then finally drag yourself to go shower.

You have to be presentable before Matt returns. 

He doesn't comment on your still wet hair or lack of conversation. You eat in mostly silence, occasionally commenting about the food. 

Karen calls as you're gathering up leftovers to go into the fridge. Whatever she has to say to Matt has him swearing and going to the wardrobe to start getting his suit out. You don't ask what is wrong, you simply gather up the dress shirt he tosses towards the couch as he begins to change. 

He doesn't kiss you as he rushes up the stairs.

He doesn't tell you to not wait up. 

The door slams shut as he disappears into his own Darkness, and you sit on the couch to await his return.

There is no silence. The city mocks you with each siren, scream, and honk. 

Thursday

You're putting away groceries when your phone alerts you to a text. 

It's from Matt and simply states, “I hate baseball bats.”

A small noise of sympathy comes up from your chest. He had gotten a few good whacks with one last night to the point he let you wrap his chest. Luckily, nothing had been broken, but it had not been a pretty sight. 

You've already put the ice packs in the freezer for when he gets home. You don't think he'll be going out tonight if he's actually admitting he is in pain. 

Maybe you can listen to the next few chapters of the audio book you've started together instead. The thought makes your stomach turn in a nervous hopeful way. 

You return his message with an inside joke of sorts, typing out the words, “Baseball bat emoji. Heart break emoji.”

He replies back seconds later with, “Sad face emoji.” 

It pulls a little smile to your lips, and you think about Matt dictating the text to his phone for the next hour. 

Friday

“You smell so good,” he purrs as he nuzzles against your neck, his scruff scratching you just lightly. 

You tilt your head to the side to give him better access and you can practically feel his pleased hum in your chest. His fingers dance at the hem of your shirt, pushing under to barely just feel your skin. He's got you crowded against the front door, so all of him overwhelms you while he teases.

He's been like this all night. As soon as you stepped into Josie's, he had his hands all over you - your thigh, your lower back, wrapping his arms around you from behind. He's only had two beers, but they have loosened up his tense shoulders quite a bit. 

You know what he wants and you're more than happy to indulge. You've been craving his touch. His attention. 

You don't care if it's a quickie before he leaves you to belong to Hell's Kitchen again, you just need something from him.

Anything. 

You dig your nails into the shoulder of his suit jacket and whine out your inner desires, knowing he'll give in when he's like this, “want to get on my knees for you.”

He moans in response, grinding against you to let you know how much he also wants that, and you lower yourself down to be trapped between him and the door. Skilled hands make quick work of his belt, and you don't bother to push his pants and briefs down. You get his half hard cock free of its confines only to swallow it.

Above you, Matt throws his head back his head, gritting out a long low, “Fuck.” 

You give him no time to adjust, knowing exactly what he likes in these moments, and begin to work him over. One hand grips his tree trunk of a thigh and the other loosely circles around the base of his cock - the first keeps you steady and the second from him slipping out of you. 

You focus on his head, pushing your tongue up as he slides out of the depths of your throat, then swirling it before you begin to suckle. He buries his fingers into your hair, swearing more, as you do so. That only encourages you and you begin to pump him as you work to get him to full hardness.

His musk is dotted with the saltines of precum, and your mouth begins to water. You do nothing to stop the drool gathering in the corners of your mouth and let it spill out as you enjoy yourself. 

Self-control is out of the question - the moment Matt’s hips begin to twitch, you encourage it, tugging at his thigh. He doesn't need to be told twice. 

You close your eyes and relax your jaw as he starts to fuck your throat. 

All of you becomes encompassed in him. He's all you feel, all you smell, all you taste, all you hear. 

He grunts and groans as he thrusts in and out of your mouth, holding your head steady so you can't chase him as you want to. You want to be held down; his cock buried deep in your throat until the heaviness of him is imprinted on your tongue. You want him to coat your insides with him, so you never forget his taste. 

You want him to use you and that's exactly what he does.

“Fuck, sweetheart, fuck,” he chants, and you don't want him to stop. He's not ruthless, but he isn't kind with it, barely giving you a chance to breathe between each movement, and making your brain start to blink in and out of awareness.

You feel him start to twitch and pulse along your tongue and you whine in distress around him. 

You don't want this to end so soon. You need him. You need this. 

Before you can process what is happening, Matt is pulling you back up into standing and directly turning you to face the door. Your brain automatically clicks with what he is doing, and you scramble to undo your pants. You barely get them unbuttoned before he is yanking them and your panties down your thighs. 

You arch your back with anticipation as he lines himself up. You expect him to tease you, to rub the head of his cock over you to spread around the juices you've soaked your panties with, but he doesn't. He pushes into you in one smooth motion and your eyes roll into the back of your head. 

He grabs you by the throat from behind, just under your chin, and turns his hand so he can also stick two of his fingers into your mouth and continue to make you drool. You're practically pinned to the door as he slams into you over and over, hitting that sweet spot each time. 

“So fucking wet,” he growls into your ear, squeezing your throat just enough to make your vision go spotty. “About to cum from just sucking on my cock. Don't even need to touch you, do I? You'd be happy being my little cock warmer.”

You would. You yearn for it - sitting under his desk while he works, keeping him happy. You just want to be with him. You need him. 

You need him. 

He breathes your name, then demands, “Cum on my cock.” 

Saturday

Matt has taken the spot at the dining table while you've curled up on the couch. You both have your respective workstations set up and have been buried in reading for hours. 

A strange, pleasant calm has washed over you and wrapped you up in a lightness.

These are the days you dream of.

Soft, quiet mornings where you can just be with Matt - there's no distractions or chaos or vigilantism. It is just the two of you, together. 

Whenever he has gotten up to get something, on his way back to his seat - he always makes sure to check in on you all and it sends your brain into an absolute tizzy. Acknowledgement from him makes you feel warm in so many ways. You don't think you could ever get enough of the way he says your name when he wants your attention. It's like an angel’s song - or the Devil's. 

You know it won't last long - he has a meeting with Foggy after lunch to meet some people who can't meet during the week - so you bask in what you have. You've been stealing glances all morning because you love to watch him work. He gets this little crease between his brow when he's listening to a transcript, and it really is the cutest thing. You just want to go over and kiss it and remind him to relax his forehead. 

But you know he's so very busy and you don't want to distract him with something so silly. He barely has enough time in the day as it is, between all the ways he helps the people of Hell's Kitchen, and lately he's just been adding more and more to his plate - more clients, more patrols, more everything except you. 

You aren't jealous. You know how needed he is and you are grateful to be in his life at all. You get to be the one to take care of him and be in his bed at the end of the night, even if you spend many of those nights alone. 

It just makes moments like these so much sweeter. 

So, when he gets up again and heads to the kitchen, you can't help but turn and watch him. He starts another pot of coffee, and your eyes just go heart shaped as you admire how his shoulders move under his shirt. 

“Anything interesting?” He asks with a bit of cockiness, and you know he's aware you aren't focused on your work.

You place your chin on the back of the couch and hum, “This company has one of the best sick leave policies I've ever seen. Think I might quit my job and go raise plants in Arizona.” 

Matt snorts at your answer and teases, “Do you know anything about raising plants?”

“For three weeks guaranteed paid vacation and two paid sick days a month, I'll learn.” 

He turns to face you, tilting his head to one side in disbelief, “Two paid sick days a month? What is the catch?”

You nod, then pretend to huff, “You have to live in the middle of nowhere Arizona.” Matt makes a face of disgust, and you laugh into your hand, a smile blooming across your face, “That's why I'm only considering.”

“I'm glad, I'd prefer it if you stay here. I'd miss you too much if you were in the middle of nowhere Arizona.” 

You spend the rest of the day practically glowing over Matt admitting he'd miss you. The words will live in your heart and head forever.

Sunday

You've never been stalked and hunted by a wild animal, but this is what you imagine it would feel like. 

The Devil has come home earlier than expected and it looks like he crawled his way out of Hell. He's in his black suit, or what's left of it, and is covered in his own blood. His nose is dripping, probably broken, staining his mouth red. His shirt is barely hanging together and various fresh shallow cuts litter his torso. His Muay Thai ropes are dirty with grime and what you expect to be others’ blood.

He slowly came down the stairs from the roof then began to circle around the couch, each step deliberate and calculating, and he has not let up. 

The air in the room is so heavy. You can't breathe because you don't have a protocol for this. You can't tell if he's angry or upset - he hasn't said a word and he's not expressing himself in any way, but Danger is exuding from him. 

You sit straight backed on the couch as the Devil continues his path around you, his head tilting in different directions ever so slightly. You don't know if he's tracking something or waiting for some sign. You can't tell when he's like this. 

Finally, he stops in the spot halfway between the couch and the bedroom, only partially angled towards you. He begins to undo the ropes stabilizing his wrists, letting them drop to the ground without acknowledgment. You watch them like they are snakes, ready to slither at you with an attack. His gloves quickly join the pile, but then he raises a hand towards you, palm up like he wants you to take it.

He confirms his intentions with a low, “Come here.”

You're worried and confused with how he is behaving, but you don't dare disobey the Devil. 

You slip out of your seat and make your way to him in silence, reaching to take his hand when you get close enough. To your surprise, he brings it up to his face and places a light kiss to your wrist, over your pulse point. 

“Do you know who I am?” He asks, voice low and laced with an unsaid promise. 

A shiver runs up your spine and you manage to answer, breathing out, “Matt Murdock. Daredevil.” 

He pulls his lips back into a snarl and you fear you've got the question wrong somehow. 

Keeping your hand in his, he steps towards you, one achingly slow step at a time, until you are practically chest to chest. He dips his head and brushes the tip of his nose against your neck. You can hear him inhale. 

“I hear their frightened little whispers. I hear what they call me - not just the Devil of Hell's Kitchen. King of Hell - this is my territory and I protect it with a ferocity,” he whispers into your skin. You close your eyes and try to keep your breathing from going shaky. 

It is not just fear and confusion coursing through you now. His words, his rasping, is going straight to your cunt. You haven't encountered The Devil in so long you've forgotten what it does to you.

He presses his free hand against your lower back, moving you so you are flush against him. Your hand goes to his chest, just under his shoulder where his shirt is still intact and not sticky with who knows what. 

“Do you know what that makes you?” he growls against you and all you can do is shake your head.

You don't interact with many people, and you doubt anyone in Hell's Kitchen is talking about you. 

You are of no interest to anyone. 

The Devil bumps his nose against your earlobe before giving it a light nibble and telling you, “My Queen of Hell.”

Air catches in your throat and it feels like your entire being short circuits. What does he mean, you're his Queen? 

You've never done anything to deserve such a title, but you aren't going to disagree with him. If he wants to call you this, you will relish in it. 

As you are still trying to process things, you are suddenly lifted into the air by your thighs, and you have to quickly wrap your legs around the Devil so you don't start flailing. Like you weigh absolutely nothing, you are carried to the bedroom and with care you do not expect, laid out on the bed. 

The Devil, mask, boots, batons, and all, crawls over you, going straight for your throat. He starts with his lips but quickly dissolves into dragging his tongue and teeth wherever he can get. It's slow, methodical, like he has a goal with his lavishing. 

You don't care about his intention - you are melting into the bed under him, desperate for him to not stop. Whatever he is doing, whatever has got him in this mood, you want more of it. 

Hesitantly, fearing you might disrupt the atmosphere, you wrap your arms around the body above you, one hand going to scratch at the back of his neck, trying to silently encourage more attention to your neck. He obliges and teeth scraping against you turns into biting. He wastes no time in leaving his first mark on you, then another, and another. 

“You're mine,” he tells you as he starts on the other side of your throat, “Belong to me. You're mine.” 

You arch at the words, cunt clenching around nothing. He is correct. You are his - you've belonged to him the moment you met, and you will until the day you die. 

He is your everything.

“I'm yours,” you agree, barely above a whisper. 

The Devil drags his lips from your neck only to crash them into yours. It's like being pulled under by a wave - a force you can only just accept and go with. He tastes like smoke and copper, but you don't care. You only want more.

You want to be consumed. 

And it feels like that is what he does. You kiss until you feel like you can't possibly breathe any longer, then he is pulling away to start moving down your body. He pushes your shirt up to start a trail of kisses and bites towards your stomach.

“My Queen,” he growls, and you can only throw your head back with pleasure at his words, his actions, “My Persephone. Mine. Whatever you want, it's yours. Anything. Give you Fisk's head on a platter. Or do you want his heart? I'll rip out his throat with my teeth for you.”

You want to comment it looks like he already has, with the state he came in in, but all you can manage to say is the truth.

“I just want you.” 

Your shirt is pulled off and tossed to the side before he is on you again, biting at your lips as he does what you want. He grinds his cock into you, and you can feel just how hard he is. You tug at the remains of his shirt, and it is also quickly discarded. 

You can feel him moving over you, probably trying to get out of the rest of his armor, but you don't pay attention. All your focus is on the way his mouth is moving with yours - dominating and controlling and firm but in no way actually hurting you. 

Nothing to ever hurt you. 

When he pulls back, he does so enough to sit up. 

You whine at the loss of his touch, but it is balanced when he finally removes his mask, and you can see his beautiful face again. 

It's a little sick, but you like him like this - bruised and battered and bloody. You like the physical reminders of who he is and what he is capable of. 

You reach up to press your hands to the mottled skin around his ribs, still healing from the baseball bat. He hisses at the contact, but his now free cock gives a violent twitch. You know which reaction to trust. 

Your sleep shorts and panties are unceremoniously removed, and you and the Devil are left nude. You are hauled up to be on your knees with him and once again you are held against his chest. He cups your jaw with both hands and kisses you firmly.

“Take such good care of me,” he mumbles between nips and bites, “Let me take care of you, my Queen.”

You want that. 

You want that.

 You want him to take care of you - to focus on you - to be his everything. You desperately nod against him, shaky whispers of “please” coming from you. 

He lays you back down and guides himself into you with far more care than you'd expect in the moment. It's steady until he's fully sheathed in you, then he is over you again, burying his face into your neck. 

“Mine.”

“Yours.”

He starts moving then, slow, steady, and deep, like he's trying to savor every roll of his hips. 

It's heady and with the way he's back to worshiping your neck, you're quick to sink into a place of pure bliss only he can send you. 

He starts to mumble against you as he devours you. You hear catches of your name and ‘my Queen’ and ‘mine’, but you hear something about Sin and love and need. Your brain refuses to link the words together and you don't need it to understand them right now. 

You just need Him. 

You roll your head to the side so he can dig his teeth into a new spot and through half lidded eyes, you spot the mirror you've added into the room. Using it, you watch the Devil make love to you, his body half shrouded by shadows. 

He's so fucking beautiful.

As your thighs begin to tremble and pressure builds up in your core, you notice smears of darkness on your face, your neck, and your arms.

It is the same darkness that the Devil is drenched in. 

He's covered you in his blood. 

You're coated with him. 

Inside and out.

The realization sends you over the edge and you scream his name for all your subjects to hear.

Monday

You wake up alone.

This is of no surprise to you.

a/n:

I see this with multiple interpretations ;)

a/n2: theres not a baseball bat emoji

[sant-riley]

Okay yk what idc I got alot of thoughts of Puerto rican! Reader with the boys, I am not sorry, I need to get this out of my system. so I'm giving her the codename of Teddy :) sorry if that ruins the immersion!

General hcs/thoughts I have with the boys from mw2:

Ghost could destroy an entire pernil by himself. He actively looks forward to it every single Thanksgiving despite him literally not being American and thus doesn't celebrate it. "L.T, don't tell me you're going over to her house just for some pork." "Why yes Johnny, I am." He is not sharing with a single soul, he will break someone's fingers. (Teddy makes him his own at this point so the others can have a try)

Soap fucking chugs Coquito like it's nothing, bc technically it isn't compared to the stuff he has back home. At first he was apprehensive but now he usually goes home with a bottle. He will share but if he sees someone wasting it he will be pissed. It is hard as fuck to come by in Scotland if not the base.

Price very much enjoys the cleaning playist Teddy has, she told him how growing up that that was how her mom told her it was time to get her ass up and do chores. He finds himself playing it early in the morning while he does documents to wake himself up.

Everyone's favorite song round let's go

Soap's favorite - Suavemente

Ghost's favorite - Anhelo (totally not bc he danced with her to this one)

Price's favorite - Danza Kuduro

Gaz's favorite - La Vaca

Alejandro being surprised when he sees a short Hispanic woman with two big ass European men. "Tu con estos dos? de donde eres chiquita?"

Soap fucking pushes himself in and answers for her, a smug little smile from all the little Spanish he picked up. Ghost just rolls his eyes and tries to not groan. Soap being a showoff.

The solidarity between the Vaqueros and Teddy 🤝 different countries but there's alot to have in common.

Teddy cursing in Spanish at the top of her lungs and Alejandra and Rudy snorting. "You kiss your grandmother with that mouth?"

The boys have in fact danced with her when she's feeling homesick, each one. Soap and Gaz don't mind doing it in public where as Ghost and Price rather do it in their rooms/her room. Ghost and Price will say its good exercise but we all know the truth.

When fresh food is available, they'll ask her to make the food she eats off duty. It's different combinations of rice and beans, along with meat always.

Everyone fucking devours tostones btw. Literally they have to buy so many plantains to make sure everyone has their fill or there will in fact be a fight.

SHE MAKES THEM HELP MAKE PASTELES!! It's a whole assembly line. Christmas is a war zone in of itself trying to make the shits.

Ghost drinks Cafe bustelo straight out the machine. No one else can stand the stuff bc it's too strong.

When sofrito has to be made, everyone makes Soap cut the onions lmfao, the worst part of the entire process.

Everyone starts to saying spanglish around base, Gaz switching from English to accented Spanish is a interesting sight 😭 Teddy mocks him as if she isn't to blame.

THE WAY GHOST SAYS NUEVO IN RESPONSE TO LEAVING ALEJANDRO AND HE GETS FLAMED FOR IT BC THATS NOT HOW YOU SAY OF COURSE.

"Really? Nuevo? Do you know what that means?" "Oh for fucks sakes."

Okay I'm tired and my fingers hurt from typing all of this lol I'll add more probably at some point!

If you'd like to be tagged in future works, please comment under my rules that are pinned to my blog!

[apeekintothepantry]

Happy Pokémon Day! February 27th is the anniversary of the first two Pokémon games’ release in Japan, and it’s a minor holiday in my house, as a fun excuse to make Pokémon inspired food, watch some Pokémon shows or movies (we’re going to watch Netflix’s new Pokémon Concierge this year!), and get excited about upcoming games and releases. This year, we’re making a Pokémon Sword and Shield inspired burger-steak curry and I’m making a dessert from the Pokémon Cookbook by Victoria Rosenthal. It’s one of my favorite fandom cookbooks – all the recipes are vegetarian or vegan, to get around the awkward question of where does the meat in the Pokémon universe come from?

But that’s not all we’re making! Ever since Nicki and Isabel were released, I’ve been dying to do a post about them and Pokémon’s infamous “Jelly Filled Doughnuts”, better – and more accurately! – known as onigiri.

Pokémon was released in the United States in 1998 via two Gameboy games: Pokémon Red and Pokémon Blue. The games quickly caught on to be one of the biggest pop culture phenomenon of the late 90’s and early 00’s, and as a kid at the heart of this explosion, I can’t overstate how much of a big deal it was. One of the great things about Pokémon – and probably why it has such lasting, widespread appeal – is that there are so many ways to interact with the franchise, and the marketing doesn’t skew hugely towards one gender or the other. Cool, tough Pokémon like Charizard got pretty similar billing to cute, pink Pokémon like Jigglypuff, and there were so many options for potential favorites that it was easy for any kid to find some creature to attach themselves to.

One of my petty complaints with Nicki and Isabel’s collection and books is the almost complete lack of mention of Pokémon and other anime that was really popular among kids in 1999. I know AG probably didn’t want to shell out for licensing deals with Nintendo or The Pokémon Company, but their stories just don’t feel accurate without discussing their prized binder of Pokémon cards or begging their parents to take them to see the Pokémon movie in theaters. Maybe the authors were just a little too old to get caught up in Pokémania?

I’ve also always thought its close overlap with the Beanie Babies crazy helped get millennial children like me very into the “gotta catch ‘em all” aspect of the franchise. Is this why I’m such a crazy toy collector as an adult? Who knows.

The Pokémon anime was one of the main ways kids like me got hooked on the franchise, because not everyone was allowed to have a Gameboy of their own (me), and not everyone liked video games, but even if you didn’t like video games, the cartoon might appeal to you. Although it was far from the first Japanese cartoon to air on US television, Pokémon was one of if not the first truly mainstream favorites of the 1990’s. 4Kids, the company in charge of dubbing the show into English, decided that American kids wouldn’t understand or be open to certain aspects of the show that reflected its Japanese roots, and so made a lot of strange choices in rewriting the script. One of the most notorious was deciding Brock’s rice balls were actually jelly filled doughnuts:

Onigiri – also known as omusubi or nigirimeshi – are balls of rice with a variety of fillings inside. They’re often compared to sandwiches, as an easy, quick, cheap meal or snack that combines carbs and other ingredients. While the concept of taking a rice ball and stuffing it full of other tasty treats goes way back to ancient Japan, the triangle shape became popular in the 1980’s thanks to a new machine that automated the filling process. Further developments over the last 40 years have created unique ways to prepackage onigiri without making the nori wrapping sticky. The ones we made were an attempt at recreating the “Hawaiian” (spam and pineapple) rice balls from our favorite food hall back in DC. One of my favorite pandemic indulgences was getting take out from the food hall, which often included a sampler of some of my favorite onigiri, and I haven’t been able to find anything close to similar where we are now. One of the many reasons I’m excited to move!

Even as a kid, I wasn’t convinced the food in the anime was fried dough with fruit jelly inside, because they sure look like rice. I also think 4Kids didn’t anticipate that Pokémon’s widespread popularity would inspire many of its fans – including me – to become absolutely obsessed with Japanese food and culture. I would’ve been more excited if they’d just been straight with me and shown more Japanese food on the show, and then probably begged my parents to make it or take me to a restaurant that made it. While I can’t confidently cite numbers of how many other people were first exposed to Japanese culture and food through Pokémon and franchises like it, I do think it’s a bit of a missed opportunity to highlight how things like this exposed kids like Nicki and Isabel to parts of a culture outside their own!

[lilyginnyblackv2]

Buddy Daddies - Becoming a Family - Episode 9 - SPOILERS!

Episode 3: Kazuki and Rei deciding to keep Miri.

Episode 6: Rei, Miri, and Kazuki crossing the finish line/goal together as a family.

The pacing and buildup in this series has been excellent, and we really see that here, with these two pictures. 

Episode 3 is when the series really “starts.” The very initial step-up stuff is out of the way, and the exploration of them becoming a family can begin. Kazuki has already become emotionally attached to Miri by Episode 3, but Rei has not.

The colors and tones in the Episode 3 picture are dark. It’s winter. The sun is setting. There is still a long and cold road ahead of them when it comes to learning how to be a family. It isn’t just smooth sailing, they have a lot of learning, growth, and roadblocks along the way.

Now, in contrast to this, we have Episode 9′s image. It’s mid-day, sunny and bright. Lots of pastels. They’re all holding hands, running, and smiling together. It’s a (seemingly) bright future ahead of them (of course we, the viewers, know that there is danger ahead, but more on that later).

It comes at the end of the 2nd act (Ep. 6 - 9), which is where we really saw them growing closer as a family and starting to feel like an actual family. Rei makes a lot of strives when it comes to connecting and forming that emotional bond and attachment with Miri that Kazuki just seemed to naturally have (though, he likely overcompensated a lot at first too, and even a bit now). Most of that growth and development, of Rei learning to emotionally connect with Miri, is done in the Act 2 episodes. 

So this episode is just an compilation of all of that, which is why the episode focuses so much on Rei learning how to cheer Miri on and provide her with emotional support. Cheering is a huge aspect of Sports Day (here they use Field Day, which makes sense to use as well, especially for younger kids). 

During this episode, Miri is doing physical practice for her events, learning how to run fast, etc. Rei can help with the practical stuff here, like wiping her brow, but he doesn’t really know how to emotionally support her like Kazuki does. Instead, he starts talking to Miri very technically:

Usually Rei is able to speak on Miri’s level, explain things easily to her. But this is an area where it is very clear that he was trained how to amplify the physical output of his body. He’s used to viewing his body more like a tool - a killing machine. This doesn’t help Miri though.

So, throughout the episode we see Kazuki guiding Rei through the process. 

At the beginning of the episode he states: “C’mon, cheer her on with me!” and he kind of just jumps right into, expecting that Rei can too. Speaking a little harshly about how a parents job is to be excited for their child. Over the course of the episode, I think around the time Rei takes the initiative to try making rice balls for Miri, we see Kazuki start to understand that Rei wants to do things for Miri, wants to emotionally connect, and cheer loudly for her, but doesn’t really understand how and seems a bit insecure about it too. He never got any training for this.

Once Kazuki and Rei get there, we see how easily Kazuki can just blend into the mood, atmosphere, and pace of the other parents and events - while Rei is always just a little bit behind. 

The show vs tell storytelling in this week’s episode is so good! We have all of Rei’s facial expressions as he tries to cheer Miri on:

There’s these little details around his eyes that make it so you can tell that Rei wants to loudly cheer Miri on. He’s been observing all of the other mothers and parents at the event, watching what they are doing. He even finally seemed to understand Kazuki desire to keep Taiga away from Miri (I’m not a fan of that, but I appreciate that it shows Rei’s growing emotional attachment to Miri and viewing her as his daughter). 

So when Rei finally cheered loudly for Miri, we felt it just like Miri did! T-T <3

He felt so much emotion and it 110% reached Miri. Yeah, it caused her to trip and fall, and we could tell with one single image of Rei’s face that he felt he was to blame for that. But it was also probably this moment, right here:

That solidified the fact that her two Papas are her family. That’s why, she comes back upset, not that she fell per se, but because she felt she let them both down. Of course, she didn’t though. (Also, side note, the worry in Rei’s voice when Miri fell! <3). 

Of course, it all worked out in the end, for all three of them. We had Rei being in an environment where he was basically surrounded by warm, loving families. Likely a first for him, and we slowly saw him adapting and getting caught up in the pace of the event (like he ends up doing with both Miri and Kazuki all the time). His smile when he sees the word “family” written on the paper, his smile at Kazuki’s praise over how well he tried cheering for Miri - I think Rei learned a lot about families and an important way to verbally express love, support, and care.

And all of this is so vital for the 3rd Act of the anime (Ep. 10 - 13), because these last four episodes are where they are going to be challenged as a family. In this episode, we learn that the date is October 15th.

Miri’s birthday is soon (November 8th). So, will we see the return of Misaki, Miri’s mother, alongside everything that is going on with Kyutaro, Ryo, and Rei’s father? Quite possibly. I can see all of these different aspects converging together (I think Rei’s VA also mentioned something similar to that in the interview up on the official site).

By the end of Act 2 they are a family. All three of them know it. All three of them are happy about this. They’re hopeful. But you can see a bit of worry in Rei’s eyes at the end of the episode too. It’s a reminder to the audience as well. They are a family now, but now they are going to be facing their toughest challenges that are likely going to try and tear their family apart. 

Here’s to hoping that doesn’t happen!

[vote-democrat-president-congress]

UPI: "The reason in encouraging the changes to ensure election integrity, the Carter Center siad, is that recent U.S. politics have been "tinged with an aggressive anger and virulent rhetoric that threatens to unravel the fabric of our society."

The guidelines listed are:

Making elections a national priority. The center said the nation's election system is critical to American democracy, so it's critical that "election laws and regulations be guided by principles of fairness that preclude partisanship."

Election laws and should be transparent and simple for the public to understand. One way to ensure the health of the nation's election system, the report's authors say, is to be "fully transparent." Saying that states and localities already have made "great strides" in delivering basic election information to voters, the report's authors say, "this work should continue on all aspects of the process, from registration of voters through certification of election results."

Expand access to voter registration. The center and institute said voter registration rules "should be structured to maximize the likelihood that eligible voters can be added to the rolls without complicated rules or restrictions."

Allow ballot casting to be simple for urban and rural populations. The report's authors said policymakers and election officials "should commit to finding a way to treat voters equitably - eschewing both a 'one size fits all' approach ... in favor of one in which there is "attention to ensuring that voters are not disadvantaged in obtaining or casting a ballot relative to others just because of where they live."

Have technology serve as a boost to voters not an obstacle. Noting that voting machines have become increasingly easier to use, the report's authors urge a design approach that would cover all voting technology, "like electronic poll books and ballot-on-demand printers" so that every step of the election process is accessible and flexible for all voters.

Encourage states and local governments that allow early voting to prioritize counting votes before the election. Saying that offering voting options over several days or weeks makes voting more resilient against potential attacks, the center urged that "communities that allow such ballots should have policies ... that ensure that as many as possible of these ballots (if not all of them) will be returned to election officials in time to be processed and counted as soon as reasonably possible." The center said that, ideally, this should occur before ballots are cast in person.

Make sure oversees voters and military personnel are able to be counted quickly. The center and the institute said states and localities should try to avoid unnecessary restrictions on the use of documents, "like the Federal Postcard Application or the Federal Write-In Absentee Ballot."

Keep the process of vote counting transparent and orderly. "Policymakers and election officials must continue to prioritize accuracy even as they strive to complete counts sooner," the report's authors said.

Conduct regular audits of the election process on the municipal level. The center said election officials should use the most up-to-date and available "techniques and best practices" to validate elections' reliability.

Use recognized best practice standards for elections. The report's authors said states and localities also should be open to having "nonpartisan and independent" election observers.

[sona-machinery]

Save the Date! Join us at the 28th International Rice & Grain Pro-Tech Expo-2024, taking place from May 17th to 19th, 2024, at Hotel The Grand, Jabalpur, M.P.

Visit us at Stall No. S131, Hall -B, and embark on a journey to discover the next-generation complete range of Rice Mill Machinery and Grain Processing solutions. Together, let's redefine the landscape of Agriculture!

[shadowxamyweek]

To Team Dark: maybe a little early since the GUN case isn't close yet but we would like to know, if you are free from GUN what are you going to do? Will you three still work for them with a higher pay or do you want to do something else?

[Tails walks briskly, nervously, down a narrow hallway. The place is beige. Weathered and faded burgundy carpet covers his footsteps. There are no windows here, just artificial lights. Off-white walls are punctuated by doors that match the carpet.] [He knocks on one. When Rouge opens the door, he quickly hands her an envelope and then leaves. Rouge shuts the door behind him.] [Team Dark's room also has no windows. There are two narrow beds with rough sheets. Another door leads to a cramped bathroom where Shadow fills a glass with water from the sink. Omega has hunkered down in a corner with a Steamdeck.] Rouge: Got another letter from your girlfriend~! (￣ε￣) [Shadow huffs, setting the cup down as they go to take the mail from Rouge. She holds it out of their reach.] Rouge: Why don't you ever tell us what she writes to you, hm? Is it sappy? Oh! Is it *spicy?* (✧ω✧) Shadow: ((╬◣﹏◢)) Rouge: You're not saying no~o! Omega: Calculating. Of all conversations sent between Shadow and Amy, 33% of dialog has been concerned business, 5% concerned negative feelings, 52% positive feelings, 15% sappy. Shadow: Omega! Omega: Of that 15%, it could be argued that there were some allusions but no direct language used to relay spicy. Shadow: Stop it! Omega: Including but not limited to: kissing and holding hands in pubic venues. Rouge: OMEGA! Σ(≧▽≦) [Rouge bursts into laughter. Shadow, heavily blushing, is furious.] Omega: If you retrieve your letters, Shadow, I will- Shadow: NO! Omega: Then you must accept my data as I present it. Rouge: Oooooooh Chaos, are you opening Shadow's mail? Omega: Negative. Shadow opens Shadow's mail. I am reading it afterwards. [Shadow flickers with Chaos energy. Rouge immediately steps between Shadow and Omega, wings unfurled to block Shadow's view.] Rouge: Okay, alright, okay. First, not spicy, so very disappointing. Second, no opening or reading other Team Dark member’s mail Omega. Come on, we've talked about nuance. [There's a burst of static from Omega as their head makes a quick rotation.] Omega: Nuance is for needle nose pliers. I am a machine of war. I will read whatever mail I want. Shadow: I will rip you inside out and turn you into a rice cooker! [There's a squawk from Omega's audio processor as they get to their feet, placing the Steamdeck down and marching towards Shadow.] Rouge: Oh! This letter isn't from Amy! [There's a pause.] Omega: Who is it from?

Rouge: Just someone asking what we want to do if we win the case. Asking if we want to stay with GUN or whatever. [She winks at Shadow.] Rouge: Don't have to ask what you want to do~ [Shadow huffs. They snatch their glass of water from where they left it and stalk over to one of the beds where they fish a book out from under the pillow.] Rouge: Don't know about you though, big guy? What do you think? Omega: I care very little about the outcome of the trial for my own benefits. Rouge: Really? That's surprising. Why? Omega: I am owned by no man. My only prerogative in this mission is to ensure the safety and well-being of my team. [Shadow looks up from their book. Rouge stammers into a moment of silence.] Rouge: Oh... that's- Omega, that's really sweet actually. Thank you, baby. But you do know- GUN *does* think they own you. Omega: They would be incorrect. I am not GUN tech. With the Tails' help, I am not even Eggman tech anymore. I am, as you say, a self-made robot. Rouge: Uh… right. Hey, Omega, you want to destroy all Eggman robots? Omega: Affirmative. Rouge: What if you could also destroy all GUN robots and therefore establish yourself as the *best robot.* [There's a whir of a processing fan. Suddenly, it speeds up excitedly.] Omega: No prior consideration had been given to this concept. [Shadow smirks, rolling his eyes before going back to his book. Rouge pats Omega on the arm.] Rouge: Yeah, you don't want to be limited in who you can destroy, big guy. When we get out of here, we're doing it for *all* of us. Omega: What about you? Rouge: Me? Oh, hm... [Rouge looks away, picking at an invisible spot on her teeth with one long, pointed nail.] Rouge: I might go back to my old job. Shadow: That being? Rouge: Art and jewelry theft. Shadow: Of course you would. Rouge: You know me, sugar. But I've got a bit of an idea to take the work experience and credentials GUN has so kindly provided us to turn myself into a real detective of sorts. Shadow: Oh really? Rouge: If only on paper. Shadow: Vector won't like that. Rouge: Well, not like some fancy private art gallery is gonna call the Chaotix, not with their track record. There's an obvious market to corner, so I'm gonna be the one to do it. Omega: Will you need fire power? Rouge: Always. Omega: Then I will stay with you Rouge: Aw, you wanna stay with little old me? Have a bit of a smash and grab spree? [Omega nods. Rouge laughs, then turns to Shadow.] Rouge: What do you think, hm? You also want in? [Shadow drums the fingers on the back of their book. They shut it and look at Rouge and Omega standing in the middle of the room.] [There's a pause.] [Try as they might, Shadow cannot fight the smirk creeping across their face.] Rouge: Aw yeah, baby, that makes us a team. (๑˃ᴗ✧)

[ravioliwings]

Palestinian Recipes from The Immigrant Cookbook by Leyla Moushabeck

Full page transcripts under the cut:

Recipe #1: Reem's Muhammara

Photo Credit: Jung Fitzpatrick Photography and Ricarius Photography

"Muhammara is my homecoming. I discovered this addicting dip as an adult and fell in love with it when I went back to Syria in 2010. At the time, I was soul-searching in my father's homeland and started to open my eyes to all the richness of my Syrian identity, particularly through the food and hospitality. Up until then I was only exposed to my mother's Lebanese and Palestinian cooking and wasn't well-versed in Syrian food. In every home in Syria, my family would serve multiple mezze dips with dinner and muhammara was always a centerpiece. It has the perfect combination of tangy, nutty, and spicy flavors. And it looks beautiful on a dinner spread. I began to feature it at my farmers' markets and catering, and it became an instant hit. Now it is a staple in my restaurant and represents my Syrian pride. Look for Aleppo pepper and pomegranate molasses in Middle Eastern or specialty grocery stores, and you can easily halve or double this recipe to suit your needs. Serve with your favorite bread."

Makes 4 cups (2 lb / 1 kg)

Ingredients:

2 1/2 lb (1.2 kg) red bell peppers (7 large)

2 1/2 cups (9 oz / 250 g) walnut halves

1 cup (2 oz / 60 g) panko breadcrumbs

2 tablespoons pomegranate molasses

1 tablespoon lemon juice

3-4 garlic cloves

1 teaspoon cumin

1 tablespoon Aleppo pepper flakes

1 teaspoon salt

1/3 cup (75 ml) extra virgin olive oil

Pomegranate seeds, walnuts, or chopped parsley, to garnish optional)

Directions:

Preheat your oven to 400F (200C). Line a baking sheet with parchment paper and place the peppers on it. Roast until the skins are charred, about 30 minutes, turning them over once or twice. Transfer to a sealable bag, or a bowl covered with plastic wrap, and set aside until cool enough to handle. Tear them open, remove the stem and seeds, and peel the skins.

Working in batches, if necessary, combine the walnuts and breadcrumbs in a food processor, and process to a cornmeal-like texture. Add the roasted peppers, pomegranate molasses, lemon juice, garlic, cumin, Aleppo pepper, and salt, and pulse until smooth, turning off the machine and scraping down the sides of the bowl from time to time.

With the processor running, slowly add the olive oil, and blend until the oil is completely incorporated. Taste and add salt, if needed.

Garnish as desired and serve chilled or at room temperature.

"Reem Assil is the chef and founder of Reem's in Oakland, California. Reem's was founded with a passion for the flavors of Arab street-corner bakeries and the vibrant communities where they're located. Growing up in a Palestinian-Syrian household, Reem was surrounded by the aromas and tastes of food from her homeland and the connections they evoked of her heritage, family, and community. Before dedicating herself to a culinary career, Reem worked for a decade as a community and labor organizer, and brings the warmth of community to all her events. In 2017, she graduated from La Cocina, a competitive food business incubator program focusing on immigrant women."

Recipe #2: Gazan Hot Tomato And Dill Salad

Dagga (Salata Ghazawiyya)

Photo Credit: Ricarius Photography

"This is the most frequently served salad in Gaza, with a hot ite that makes it a fantastic accompaniment to meaty stews or rice dishes. Dagga, which is a variation of the work meaning "pounded" in Arabic, is commonly scooped up with Arabic bread, and has a consistency similar to that of a Mexican salsa. This dish must be made in a mortar and pestle with a rough interior (in Gaza, a zibdiya). Don't bother using a food processor!

Though she herself was of mixed Circassian and Kurdish-Damascene ancestry, my late maternal grandmother, il-Sitt Laila, as she was endearingly known, was fond of this classic, and used to refer to it as "the centerpiece of the Gazan table." It was probably the first recipe I learned from my mother, who often tasked us young children with the rhythmic exercise of mashing garlic.

Dagga is one of those recipes you are likely to find Gazan Palestinians making the world over, probably in a zibdiya they've inherited, a great source of pride. The original mortars are extremely hard to come by due to constant closures. They are fashioned from the rich, red clay in Gaza, and a constant reminder that though we may be thousands of miles (and often an unattainable reality) away, we have a part of that earth with us, and we can taste home wherever we go.

You can substitute 1 tablespoon dill seeds for the fresh dill and 2 tablespoons finely chopped onions for the garlic. The dill seeds should be ground in the mortar thoroughly in a circular motion along with some of the salt, before adding the onions and proceeding with the recipe."

Serves 4

Ingredients:

2 garlic cloves, peeled

1/2 teaspoon salt

2-3 hot green chili peppers, such as jalapeno or serrano

1/4 cup (1/2 oz / 15 g) finely chopped dill

3 ripe medium tomatoes, coarsely chiopped

Juice of 1/2 lemon

Extra virgin olive oil

Arabic flatbread or pita, to serve

Directions:

Using a large mortar and pestle, mash garlic and salt to a paste. Coarsely chop up the chili peppers, removing some of the membranes if you prefer less heat. Add the peppers to the mortar and crush until tender. Stir in the dill. Using circular motion, grind the dill until fragrant.

Add the tomatoes and pound until salad reaches a thick salsa-like consistency. Transfer to a serving dish, stir in the lemon juice, and then mix the entire salad well and even out the top with the back of a spoon. Drench the top with a rich olive oil, but don't stir it in.

Serve with Arabic flatbread on the side for scooping it up.

"Laila El-Haddad is a Maryland-based freelance journalist, documentarian, and cookbook author. She is the author of The Gaza Kitchen: A Palestinian Culinary Journey. She frequently writes on the intersection of food and politics and she is currently working on a book about the history of Islam in America, as told through food."

Recipe #3: Baked Fish Kibbeh

Kibbet Samak

Photo Credit: Ricarius Photography

"Growing up in Nazareth, we seldom ate red meat on Friday. The cafeteria at my elementary school would frequently serve mujaddara (lentil pilaf), which grew monotonous week after week. After school, my cousin Aida would take me to her house where my aunt Um Sami would feed us her delicious fish kibbeh. Hers was the only other cooking my mother really respected. And since Um Sami was on a first-name basis with the local fisherman, she always used the freshest catch.

A few summers ago, my family and I were on our annual deep-sea fishing trip to Montauk Point, New York, and as is our custom, we caught and enormous amount of fish. When I was trying to figure out creative ways to use it all, my aunt's recipe came to mind. It is a wonderful dish for a party, and this recipe can be easily doubled. It it best served with fattoush."

Serves 6 to 8

Ingredients:

SEASONING

1 tablespoon saly

1 1/2 tablespoon allspice

1 1/2 teaspoons cumin

1 1/2 teaspoons ground black pepper

1/4 teaspoon cinnamon

Pinch nutmeg

3/4 teaspoon dried marjoram

Zest of 1/2 lemon

Zest of 1/2 lime

Zest of 1/2 orange

SHELL

1 1/2 cups (8 oz / 225 g) extra-fine bulgur (size 0)

1/2 small white onion, coarsely chopped

1 1/2 lb (700 g) skinless grouper fillet or other firm white fish, cut into chunks

1 tablespoon hot pepper paste (optional)

STUFFING

1 1/2 (700 g) skinless striped bass fillet or other flaky white fish cut into 1 inch (2 cm) pieces

Salt

1/2 cup (120 ml) vegetable oil

1/4 cup (60 ml) olive oil, plus more for oiling

2 medium white onions, diced

2 shallots, diced

1/2 cup (1 oz / 30 g) chopped cilantro, plus more to garnish

1 tablespoon pomegranate or grape molasses or citrus juice

1 1/2 tablespoons lemon juice

1/2 cup (1 3/4 oz / 50 g) slivered almonds, toasted or fried, plus a few more to garnish

1/4 cup (1 1/2 oz / 40 g) pine nuts, toasted or fried

Directions:

Combine the spices and zest for the seasoning. Divide the mixture in half; half will be for your shell, and half for the stuffing.

Next, make the shell: Place the bulgur in a large bowl and add enough water to cover the bulgur by 1/4 inch (6 mm). Set aside until it absorbs the water, about 30 minutes.

Place the onions in the bowl of a food processor and process until very finely chopped. Remove and set aside. Place the grouper in the food processor and process to the consistency of a paste. In a large bowl, combine the onion, fish, and plumped bulgur. Mix in the hot pepper paste, and the spice-zest mixture you set aside for the shell.

Prepare a bowl of ice water. Dipping your hands in the ice water to prevent sticking, knead the mixture between your palms until it becomes dough-like. Cover and refrigerate.

Next, make the stuffing: Sprinkle 1/4 teaspoon of the spice mixture onto the fish with a small pinch of salt. Heat the vegetable oil in a large, heavy-bottomed saucepan over high heat. Fry the fish in batches, gently turning occasionally, until lightly browned on all sides, approximately 8 minutes. Transfer the cooked fish to a plate lined with paper towels.

Pour out the vegetable oil. In the same pan, heat the olive oil over medium heat. Saute the onions and shallots, stirring, until they are translucent and lightly browned, about 15 minutes. Add the cilantro and cook, stirring, for 2 to 3 more minutes. Add the fried fish, molasses, lemon juice, toasted nuts, and remaining spice mixture. Stir well, remove from the heat, and taste, adding salt, if needed. Allow to cool to room temperature.

Preheat the oven to 350F (180C). Coat a 13 inch by 9 inch (33 cm by 23 cm) glass or ceramic oven fish with 1 to 2 tablespoons olive oil. Remove the shell from the refrigerator and divide into halves. Use one batch to evenly line the bottom and sides of the baking dish. Evenly spread the stuffing on top of the shell. Spread the remaining shell paste over the top, pressing it with cold damp hands to level and seal the edges. Use a knife to score just the top layer into portions. Additional designed can be carved into each portion (usually rectangles or triangles).

Bake until cooked through and golden brown, 30 to 40 minutes. Remove from the oven and let cool for 15 minutes before serving, so the portions hold their shape. Garnish with chopped cilantro and almonds, if desired.

"Rawa Bishara is a chef and co-owner of Tanoreen restaurant in Bay Ridge, Brooklyn. She emigrated from her hometown in Nazareth to New York 40 years ago. She is the author of Olives, Lemons & Za'atar, published in 2014. Her second cookbook will be released in 2018."

[photonsfood]

Photon's Industrial Food Machinery plays a crucial role in the food industry by providing reliable and efficient equipment that enables food processing and packaging operations to be carried out at scale. With a focus on precision and automation, Photon's Industrial Food Machinery can improve production rates, reduce waste, and ensure consistent quality across the production line.

[jaesvelvet]

every cloud has a silver lining

SUMMARY ➤ there's an idiom— every cloud has a silver lining but to Jake he has you.

PAIRING ➤ sim jaeyun + gn!reader

GENRES ➤ fluff, comfort, established relationship

WORDS COUNT ➤ 1.09k words

WARNINGS ➤ reader is like cottagecore kind of person(??), mention of food, slightly mention of taylor and kanye's scandal (is that a warning?😭)

NOTES ➤ after writing this, i lowkey wanna write about how their love story began— a swiftie with a kanye's listener lmao it's a roller coaster mode

It's  raining again… it’s been two weeks of raining, the weather has become cold and blue. People bring umbrellas whenever they go and the playground gets quieter since there’s no children left home due to the rainy season.

You stopped reading mid-sentence of your recent book as your ears catch a sound of doorknob being twisted– you put the hard cover book aside, fixing your sitting posture on the couch and smiling widely as a tall figure enters the house, totally covered by rain.

“You forgot your umbrella” you said, giggling as he responded by a single scoff. You make your way to your shared bedroom to give him his towel.

“Take a shower first, I’m gonna make something hot for you” you said and hand him a Tiffany blue towel.

“But you’re hotter” you roll your eyes, the never-ending tease.

“Just go!”

You felt warm, standing in front of the boiled chicken soup, you took a spoonful of the soup to taste it, a proud smile could be seen on your face as the soup tasted good for a human to eat. While serving the food on the table, you peek at the window from your living room apartment, the rain didn’t show a sign to stop, it gets heavier every second followed by a loud thunder.

Rain is a second thing making you calm– after your boyfriend of course. Everytime it’s raining you thank God for the scientific reason it made your anxiety go away. But at the same time you felt sad, your pretty flowers on the balcony. They must be annoyed getting shower everyday, and it’s been a while since you hang out on the balcony to take good care of your flowers.

“Emm! Smells good” your boyfriend enters the kitchen with his full set of his navy blue silk pajamas.

“Let’s eat it while it’s hot” you said

For a few minutes, there’s no sound in the kitchen except the sound of both of you chewing the food and the sound of spoon clunking with the bowl. Both of you enjoy the silence, after a hectic day– a moment of silence you need to rest your brain from processing anything.

“Did you have a great time today?” he asked, as if he didn’t text you for every second today.

“Yes. I finished knitting your sweatshirt!” you beamed.

You spent a week knitting a sweatshirt for him, you worried if he caught a cold from his workplace while the rainy season was going on.

“And my folklore vinyl arrived”

“Hm? You said you don’t want to buy vinyl records anymore”

“The rainy season makes me blue!” you reasoned, and he giggled at your statement.

“How about you?” you asked him, you could see his tiredness from his face.

“Like usual, working on the same thing everyday, getting yelled with no reasons by your senior and the copy machine still broken” he sighs

You smile and give a spoonful of your rice to him.

“Anyway, you still did a great job today and I’m so proud of you”

“Thank you, baby”

You noticed something. A new pattern was created due to the rainy season, both of you getting a little sensitive at the end of the day. Everyday, the two of you never miss pouring out the overwhelming feelings that have been bottled up in your body.

Staying at home is the best, but it’s been a while since you go out and visit a flower shop.

“You finished?” he asked, and you nodded. He takes the empty bowl of you and him to do the dishes.

“You want to watch Netflix?” you asked, while helping him wiping off the dirt from the wooden table.

“Not in the mood” he answered

You nod even his back is facing you. You walk towards the vinyl record player and put the folklore vinyl you bought a few days ago. The truth is, you also did not have the mood to watch anything. The heavy rain makes the weather become colder than usual, all you need is something warm.

The piano sound resonated in the room, track one from a folklore album being played from the vinyl record.  The indie song fits the gloomy and sad weather out there, you turn off the lights– leaving the light from the table lamp from the side table beside the couch.

“Let’s sleep” Jake hugs you from behind, kissing your shoulder which makes you giggle while moving your body like a worm. You love his kisses but not on your shoulder and neck– a cons of dating a ticklish person like you.

“Can we lay on the couch first? I wanna hear songs first before we sleep” he didn’t say anything but dragged you towards the couch, after making both of you comfortable, Jake covered both of you with a thick blanket.

‘I guess you never know, never know

And if you wanted me, you really should've showed

And if you never bleed, you're never gonna grow

And it's alright now’

“Why did we need to hear some angsty song while we’re in love?” Jake asked, his hand naturally coming up to your hair– softly caressing it.

“Because you’re dating a swiftie” you smile sheepishly while Jake rolling his eyes.

For sure it’s an enemy to love trope for you and Jake, a swiftie date a Kanye West listener? It’s a roller coaster ride. You hated his guts as soon as he suggested you a Kanye West’s song but Jake, on the other hand, didn’t know anything about the scandal between the two famous people and he was genuinely confused when you acted cold towards him.

Long story short, he caught your heart and here we are.

“I hope the rainy season stops, it’s been awhile since we’re going on a date” Jake pout, he really misses going to the outside world with you, spending time with you and watching the sunset with you.

“Me too…” your hands slowly wrapped around his torso and turned your body towards him, leaning your head on his chest. Jake does the same thing, and kisses your head.

‘I guess you never know, never know

And it's another day waking up alone’

With Taylor Swift's soothing voice both of you slowly close your eyelids and whole body slowly relaxing from all the burdens the both of you carry during the day. Jake is pleased to say, after a tough day– cuddling with you is the best thing ever (but he still prefer Kanye’s songs rather than Taylor’s)

Well, like the idioms said;  every cloud has a silver lining.