#spinning like a cup of instant noodles in the microwave

[erythriina]

in another universe either peglar or bridgens overhears poor irving’s Christian Pleasures Monologue and the two of them pull him aside later and sit him down somewhere private for an incredibly long conversation that culminates in irving going back to his berth and crying himself to sleep but then he keeps seeking them out to chat and just spend time with….and they do watercolors together or something. singing with friends,,

[rubyreduji]

Lick The Bowl Clean — kmg

summary: late night baking heals the soul, especially when done with a friend

genre: complete and utter fluff, college!au, gn!reader wc: 1.5k an: i started this during midterm season and now its final seasons...anyways

You hate midterm season. It’s arguably worse than finals seasons in your opinion. It always sneaks up on you and there’s a recurring theme with your professors where they don’t prepare you for them nearly as much as they do with the final.

You’ve been up all night studying and you’ve finally had enough. You think that if you look at notes for any longer that you’re going to drive yourself insane. The issue is that you’re not tired though and you still have to study for one more class.

Soft grumbles leave your throat as you stand up from your desk and stretch your limbs out. You listen to the way your spine cracks as you arch your back and you groan at the feeling. Your body is stiff and sore from sitting in the same place for so long. The added stress weighing on you doesn’t help much either.

The time on the clock reads 2:49 am. You release a deep sigh and pad around your room, collecting your needed items, before leaving your dorm room and heading to the communal dorm kitchens.

There are twenty-four hour kitchens and even though you know it’s late your brain is still running rampant and you’re always at your best after a little late night stress baking session. You know it’s impractical to keep a ton of baking ingredients in your dorm but it’s perfect for moments like these and that’s all that matters. You take your basket of ingredients and hike it up onto your hip before starting your trip to the kitchen.

You’re relieved when you open the door and it’s empty. You set your things down and automatically get to work. You set all of your tools and ingredients out before preheating the oven and greasing the pan. Once those steps are done you move to start measuring things, your brownie recipe memorized by heart.

Soft humming fills the room as you move around, pouring different things into the bowls for you to combine. You’re completely in your zone, happy to have something to lose yourself in that’s not your class notes.

You’re just about to crack an egg when you hear the noise echo through the room. You spin around at the noise, startled, only to calm down when you see who’s entered the kitchen. Standing at the entrance is Kim Mingyu. He lives in the dorm right across the hall from you and is one of the nicest people you have ever met.

“Y/N. What are you up at this hour?”

“I was uh, stress baking,” you admit with a small laugh. “What are you doing up at this hour?”

Mingyu lets out a chuckle. “I guess that’s fair. I’m here to make my ramen.” Mingyu holds up the styrofoam cup of instant noodles.

You let out a fake gasp. “The Kim Mingyu eats instant ramen,” you tease. It’s well known on your floor that Mingyu is an amazing cook, always whipping something up that completely blows the dining hall food out of the water.

“Something has to get me through studying,” Mingyu laughs as he walks over to the sink to put water in the noodles.

“Tell me about,” you snort, “why do you think I’m stress baking at two am?” You turn back to your bowl, cracking the egg you were about to crack before Mingyu walked in. To the side of you Mingyu has put his ramen into the microwave and turns back towards you.

“Do you want any help with that? Or is this a strictly Y/N only baking session?”

You laugh. “I mean, you’re pretty strong. Want to stir this for me?” You push the bowl of wet ingredients towards the boy. “I don’t have a mixer here, and it’s too late to use one anyways.”

“On it.” Mingyu takes the bowl and starts to stir together the ingredients.

You don’t know how to explain it but there’s something a bit ridiculous about this scenario. 187 cm, muscular, basketball jock Kim Mingyu standing in the student kitchen with you in his black t-shirt and plaid pj pants, helping you make brownies. You stare at his face, completely concentrated on combining the ingredients together. It’s kinda cute.

You stifle a giggle before turning back to measuring the dry ingredients. By the time you have that done, Mingyu is back at the microwave taking care of his ramen. You’re expecting him to leave the kitchen but instead he moves over to the chairs and sits down. This choice makes you smile to yourself a bit. You’ve always liked Mingyu. He’s funny and kind and handsome. Even just has a friend, he's incredibly charismatic.

When you’ve got the dry ingredients all measured out you start to dump them into the wet ingredients Mingyu mixed.

“Woah, let me do that!” Mingyu stands again and walks over to you.

“Do you not think I’m strong enough to do it myself?” You raise an eyebrow at the man. “I’d like you to know I’ve been hand mixing my batters for years.”

“Oh I don’t doubt it, but I kinda thought that was the thing we had going on here. I’m the brawns, you’re the brain.” While Mingyu is talking he reaches over to grab the bowl out of your hand. “I like to be helpful, okay?”

You snort. “Fine, we can both do it. I pour the dry, you mix it together.”

“You’re not gonna like…get flour all over me are you?” Mingyu asks, suspicion lacing his tone.

“I’m not cliche Kim Mingyu,” you feign offense.

“I’ll trust you…just this once L/N Y/N,” Mingyu plays along, which makes you smile. 

You two finish mixing the batter and you’re putting it in the pan and sending it into the oven. You scraped the bowl out pretty well but there’s still a bit in there and you turn to Mingyu who is back to eating his (now cold) ramen.

“Do you want to lick the bowl?”

“What?”

“Do you want to lick the bowl? Like get all of the batter that’s left.” You get a bit on your finger and lick your finger clean to demonstrate. “It was like the best part of baking when I was growing up.”

“I- uh, sure,” Mingyu agrees and you happily join him at the table to lick the bowl.

You two sit there eating the left over batter and chatting, waiting for the buzzer to go off. You rush over to the oven to taste the brownies. You smile to yourself as you reveal they’re perfectly done. You pull them out of the oven and set them to the side to cool as you start to wash your dishes.

“Oh by the way, do you want any of the brownies?” You turn to Mingyu. “I mean you did help make them.”

“Oh I uh, I don’t like brownies that much,” Mingyu admits, flushing a bit.

“WHAT?! B-but you, you helped me lick the bowl!”

“I know, I know, and the batter was very good, but I’m just not a brownie person so I was gonna say no but you looked so cute asking so I said yes. I’m sorry,” Mingyu tells you.

“If you don’t like brownies why did you stay to help me make them?”

“Because I wanted a reason to spend more time with you,” Mingyu says. “Aish, that’s so embarrassing admitting out loud.”

“I-, I like spending time with you too Mingyu.”

The conversation between you and Mingyu tapers off there until you’re cutting the brownies and putting half on a plate for him. He looks confused when you place them into his hands.

“They’re for your roommates. Don’t think I don’t see their giant sweet tooths.”

Mingyu smiles at this. “You’re so sweet Y/N.” 

You scoff. “It’s only because I think Seokmin is adorable.”

Mingyu makes an exaggerated shocked face and you laugh a bit before grabbing all of your things to haul back to your room. You and Mingyu walk the halls together towards your dorm, a comfortable quiet surrounding you.

You two stop in front of your respective doors when you get to them. Before you can fully walk into your dorm, Mingyu stops you.

“Thanks for letting me hang out with you tonight, it was nice to get my mind off of midterms for a second.”

You smile up at him. “Of course. I enjoyed it as well.”

“And before I lose my cool I’m going to ask you now – would you like to maybe do something like this again after midterms…maybe with coffee this time…?”

You can see the way Mingyu’s ears are tinting pink and you feel your own face starting to heat up. You hide your smile for a second but looking at your feet before looking back at Mingyu. “Are you asking me out on a date, Kim Mingyu?”

“And if I was?”

“Well then I guess I’ll have nothing to do but accept.” You grin up at him. “Tell Seokmin to enjoy those brownies now, okay?” You wink at the man before turning and walking to your dorm, leaving him to celebrate by himself in the hallway. 

taglist: @pandorashbox @leejihoonownsmyheart @soonhoonietrash @enhacolor @chaimi-yuta @embrace-themagic @kayleeshinee @coupsgyus @joonsytip @heyxxitsxxtay @luvthatleader-nim @d0nghyck @noniestars @heavenly-mobo @baldi-2 @sunnyteume @debsworld23 @m1nghaos @just-here-to-read-01 @niyizh @kpopandbitchcraft @lorde-oftherings @blxckswxnxge @17kwans @jeanjacketjesus @hoeforcheol @wonchansbrooklynn @x-veex @synthetickitsune @namjoonbaby @raevyng

join my taglist here!

[mellointheory]

Broken Mirrors, Bleeding Hands

“Can you just kill me now?” Punz asks, sitting on the floor of their kitchen and watching a cup of noodles spin in the calm glow of the microwave. He means his tone to be bitter, sort of joking. It sounds more desperate than he wants it to.

“I’m not looking forward to it,” Foolish replies. He sits beside Punz, arms folded over his knees and head tilted back. He isn’t watching the microwave, just staring off into space and listening to the low hum of it in the dark.

“Why not? Don’t you want to get out of here?” Punz rubs their fingers across the tattoos on their arms, feeling the subtle rise of ink under skin. “Is Heaven all pearly gates and golden apples like they say?”

He’s just joking, but he listens anyway when Foolish answers.

“It’s gardens,” the angel says softly. “Not like ones you have down here. Wild ones, where the plants grow how they want, but they want to be beautiful. There’s fruit everywhere. When we were younger my brother and I used to fly up and see if we could find fruit from in the highest branch possible. He claimed it always tasted better.”

“You have a brother?” Punz ventures. He doesn’t know if angels even have family, or children, or parents or siblings. Apparently Foolish does.

“There were eight of us,” Foolish says, eyes still focused on nothing. “Nine in all. That was before–”

The microwave beeps: a harsh, discordant sound that makes Punz jump. Foolish doesn’t flinch, but he goes completely silent while Punz stands and hits the button to open the microwave.

“Before what?” Punz asks, picking up the cup of instant noodles and stirring it idly.

Foolish shifts, standing up. He seems a little taller than usual in the dark; features more angular. He’s wearing one of Punz’s black hoodies, face lit only by the glow of the open microwave. He should look disheveled and unimpressive, standing there in Punz’s apartment kitchen.

Instead Punz is struck again with the impression of a marble statue–or whatever marble statues used to strive to imitate. Something glorified, beautifully human shapes carved so intricately out of something inhuman. Foolish looks…old. 

“Before the wars,” Foolish finally replies. “And before we lost.”

read on ao3 here!

[eggsmuses-a]

Sans stares absently into the microwave, caught in his train of thought as the Instant Noodles spin. Rotating ... rotate ...

The artificial light lapses against his cheekbone as the skeleton grins. Watching food cook was the only thing he found fascinating at this very moment, nothing else &. nothing more. The spinning cup of noodles occupied his entire world. He was one with the noodles. He was the noodles.

The skeleton perks up at the sound of the beeps screeching from the microwave – it was worse for wear – signalling that his noodles were finished. Without a moments hesitation, Sans swipes the microwave food &. scuttles back over to where Dr Alphys is seated currently.

#ﾞ s ——— ❝ so, doctor doctor, gimme the news, ❞ that toothy smile of Sans’s only seems to grow the more time he spends with it, ❝ what’s got your bones rattled ? miss me &. wanted to binge something, or got something on your mind ? ❞ He plunges into his seat – Sans is just gonna pop open his ramen cup like it’s a soda can ...

@universalcarnival plotted a starter kinda not really it was more we were talking about muses we were interested in then i went MWAHAHAHAHAHA and went on my villain arc

[burntmcnuggies]

My Sweet Love

Dabi x Sweet Reader

Request: Hey!💗Сan I, please, have a girlfriend for Dabi who likes sweets? Candy, cakes, berries, stuff like that. And she always leaves some sweets for Dabi, because she knows that he will come to her apartment, even if she is not at home. And basically she leaves quite a lot of food for him. Thank you💗

warnings: none, just a fluffy story with a bit of angst at the end inspired by the latest manga chapters! Also my apologies for making it a bit angsty, I was in a mood haha

Word Count: 2.8K

There they were again.

The endless amount of sweets stacked upon the kitchen table for the flame-quirked villain.

Why you left so many sweets out for him was beyond his own comprehension. He couldn't even understand why you weren't a human cupcake by now with how many sweets you’d been leaving him lately. He's seen those videos you’ve shown him of 'is it cake?' and sadly watched people stab each other with forks or some other stupid shit. He's warned you before that if you ever approached him with a fork, he would burn you to a crisp. A sigh escaped his soft and wrinkly lips once he noticed there wasn't any real food around for him. The ebony-haired villain approached the pile of sweets for him, carefully picking up the small little note beside it, cringing at the silly nickname he loved but hated at the same time.

'Hey dabeebee! I left you some sweets because you are the sweetest thing in my life! :3 I know you'll probably complain looking for real food, I have hidden all of it outside just for you! If you want soba I left a pot out on the stove for you to use and put some water in it.

I love you so much dabeebee! <3

~(Y/N) : )

"Cheesy little shit..." He mumbled, searching around for some cheap booze. Of course, you had none in your possession, judging by you were only 21 and an innocent cautious adult. He sighed and finally stumbled upon a pack of instant ramen, forgetting the pot for soba on the stove deeming it too much work. He put it in the microwave and heated it up, watching the little plastic cup spin around. He took it out and slurped the noodles in the cup, savoring the flavor in his mouth. The heated food made his whole body slump in relaxation. Working for the league was tiring, and he’d lazily complained multiple times to you about it. He’d groan Shigaraki was being a spoiled little child, and get angry when he was forced to work with Geten. Ever since he came to you after their first battle, he had despised the ice-user.

Winter was when he became the most sensitive. Emotionally.

For whatever reason the villain would come visit you more often in the winter, struggling to concentrate whenever he was with you. It was like his mind was somewhere else, somewhere that made him sad. Hot cocoa always cheered him up in the slightest, something warm to melt the ice slowly starting to grow around his heart. Every time he saw you though, it all melted already, your soft voice and gentle touches taking away his pain. You were too sweet. “Stupid idiot...” He mumbled and finished his little cup of instant ramen. He strolled lazily up the stairs, a blank look on his face as he approached the door to your room. He stopped in front of the door and looked inside, pleased with the sight of you sleeping peacefully, unaware of his presence.

He stared at blankly, not a single thought running through his head as he began to shed his blemished jacket, letting it fall to the floor. Next came his shirt, pulling it over his head to reveal more of the scarred flesh everyone always claimed to be disgusting. He easily removed his boots and pants, only left in his boxers. Pulling the covers back slightly, he eased himself into bed beside you, turquoise eyes burning holes into your slumbering form. His hand reached out towards your face, gently caressing it with what little was left of his humanity instead of scarred dead skin. “I hate you.” He whispered, not even bothering to speak the words he knew you already knew. A smile graced your lips feeling his touch, instantly knowing it was your lover due to the warmth radiating off of him.

His unspoken words lingered in the air as he pulled you closer towards him, refusing to let you go.

‘I hate you, because I love you so much.’

——

When you woke up and found Dabi in your bed, you couldn’t help but smile ear to ear seeing your handsome boyfriend snuggled against you. He barely got any good sleep, so you wanted him to sleep as long as he could. He was a light sleeper, like extremely light. He briefly mentioned something in his past always kept him alert and on edge, having problems with insomnia and pain. You weren’t stupid. You knew the aspect of Dabi’s powerful quirk, and how much spreads through his body when he over uses his terrifying flames. Carefully easing yourself out of bed, kissing his head very very softly, you tip-toed down to the kitchen to see if Dabi had eaten any of your little experiments.

They were all sadly still there.

“Damnit! If he doesn’t eat something then I won’t know what to get him for his birthday... it’s in a couple days...” You announced to yourself, sighing heavily. It was true, putting the candy out was to get Dabi to reveal what kind of candy he liked, or flavor of cake, anything to give you the slightest hint on what he would enjoy! That was why you hid the food, you were hoping he would settle and eat what he wanted to. That wasn’t the case. “Tonight I’ll put some cake slices out and label them... maybe then! Maybe then he’ll choose one!” A sweet smile spread across your lips, putting all the candy away and putting all the normal food back. All the while unaware of a pair of ears that had been listening the whole time.

——

Dabi left early that morning, going off to do some villainous work before he approached your house in the middle of the night. It was around at least 2am when he arrived. His body ached, skin burning and smoking. Today had been especially rough, but the cool air that gently blew against his hot skin made him feel better. But the aching in his heart made him feel all the more hot with rage and anger. His memories plagued his mind briefly before he remembered what laid waiting for him at your house. That’s right. It was his birthday in a couple days. And the extremeness of your efforts was to figure out once and for all what his favorite sweet was. He just wasn’t a fan of sweets and preferred spicy foods.

“That idiot. Always such a hassle. Possibly worse than that crusty bastard.” He mumbled to himself, rubbing his scarred up neck gently. He didn’t understand himself how he could love someone who’s blood was probably 100% sugar and had a personality sweeter than that. He found your spare key easily, slipping the key into the lock and letting himself inside. As per usual, there were sweets on the table, cake to be exact. There were 5 different slices laid out, each labeled. He approached the neatly cut slices, bright pink flowery post it notes under them.

Vanilla! :D

Chocolate! :D

Red Velvet! :D

Lemon! :D

Cheesecake! :D

‘Good morning Dabeebee! :3

I’m sure it’s like past 1am or 2 or something, so good morning! I hope your day was okay <3 I missed you! I didn’t hide the food this time because you still found it last time! >:( But please try these cake slices! I made them all myself! I loooooove you! >///<

~(Y/N) :)

The dark haired villain rolled his eyes, sighing heavily as he shrugged off his heavy navy coat. He hung it up lazily so he wouldn’t make a mess or wake you and crossed his arms staring at the slices. His turquoise eyes observed each slice, lips set in a firm line as he thought about the textures and icing. His calloused hands grabbed onto the metal of a fork, hoping it wouldn’t melt at the heat his body was still emitting from his hard “work” of the day. A bite of each would be sure to satisfy you right? He dove the fork into the first slice, chocolate, and carefully placed the spongy sweet into his mouth. He recoiled. ‘It’s too sweet.’

As Dabi continued trying the sweets, the vanilla/yellow cake was probably his favorite, but he still didn’t want a cake. He didn’t really want anything for his birthday. Well, maybe to be dead, but that seemed unrealistic now. He sat down on the couch, mind now becoming hazy and foggy with depressing thoughts. His hands clasped together, blunt nails slowly digging into the top parts of his hands that weren’t scarred. The stables began to burn, almost like the first time they were in. His hands grew shaky, eyes blankly staring at the ground in a horrific daze. He didn’t even notice the way his breathing had turned unstable. The scars increased in heat, even though there were no more flames there to hurt him. His hazy eyes cast upwards and his whole entire world almost shattered.

The villain shot up and punched the TV in front of him as hard as he could, beating the screen senseless, panicking as he tried to rid his brain of the reflection that glared back at him. The mere sight and thought of red flames coming near him made his stomach sick with anxiety and fear, especially in the safety of your home. His eyes began to burn with tears, but sadly his tear ducts burned almost with his sanity a long time ago. His fists became bloody and bruised, body becoming numb to the sound of his name being called loudly. As soon as a hand made contact with his arm, he jerked around and swung at whatever had touched him, fearing the worst. That was when his heart shattered, eyes wide in fear once he realized he had just knocked you down to the floor.

“(Y/N)? Ah, shit.” He quickly kneeled down beside you and raised his shaky hands, scared to even touch you. There was a large mark on the side of your cheek, tears already built up in your eyes. Dabi’s chest heaved in and out heavily, eyes burning hard as blood leaked from under his stapled skin. Choked and held in sobs racked through his body like thunder. It hurt so much, it hurt that he couldn’t cry, it hurt to have a constant reminder of his past, reminders of his failure, and it hurt to know that he was unwanted and incapable of being loved by another human being. People saw him as a monster, a freak with no heart.

“You’ve failed me as a son, it’d been better if you weren’t even born.”

He let out a loud cry for help, even though the words never came from his mouth, the simple scream of pain was enough to convey his silent plea. His heart, his eyes, his skin, his stomach, his head, his chest, his lungs, everything hurt, a pain he couldn’t handle by himself. “FUCK!!” He shouted, blood dripping onto the floor with the crack of his broken voice. His whole body recoiled and flinched once he felt your soft hands gently caressing his scarred forearm. Why weren’t you leaving? Why weren’t you yelling at him? Why didn’t you hit him back? Why did you take his small abuse so quietly just like he did? Why were you just silently comforting him in the smallest way? “(Y/N)-“

“Shh, it’s okay now Dabi.” He flinched at your voice, firm yet soft, unwavering, no fear or disgust present at all. Just a loving tone for your significant other. Your hands gently pushed his forearms away from him, and you pulled him Into a tight hug, head buried into his neck. “There’s no need to cry, or fear anything... I’m here, Dabi... it’s okay... I’ve got you, honey.” His eyes widened at your sugary words, comforting him even though he’d just hit you. He inhaled your scent, shaking hands slowly resting against your back, squeezing you close with blood still dripping from his scarred cheeks. “Shh... there, there sweetheart, I’ve got you, and I’m never going to let you go okay...? I love you, Dabeebee.”

Love.

Such a big word you throw around so carelessly with him. Hearing such words always made him feel warm and happy inside. Something he missed out on, and had never experienced until he met you. Your poor excuse to cheer him up worked only a little, when he mumbled out an insult. “You’re so fuckin’ stupid you know that? I’m honestly shocked you’re still alive and I haven’t incinerated you yet...” His meaningless insults warmed your heart, your Dabi was slowly coming back. You ignored the harsh stinging of your cheek and focused solely on Dabi, and making him feel better. His breathing was slowly calming down, sniffling and wiping the blood that leaked from his abused burnt up tear ducts. “Do you feel better, Dabeebee?”

“What a stupid question to ask.” He mumbled and pulled away, composing himself briefly before he stared at you longingly. His beautiful turquoise eyes linger to your cheek stained red and he felt his heart break all over again. “Fuck, I’m... fuck I’m sorry... I’m so sorry, (Y/N).” Now that was a rare sight to see, the Dabi apologizing to you? The man who swore to take out the super human society, the man who taunts heroes and kills, apologizing to you? A lowly civilian with a mediocre quirk not good enough to be recognized by society. “This isn’t like you, Dabi... what’s wrong my love? Does it have something to do with your birthday?” He didn’t reply, turquoise eyes just staring down at the floor with a dull gleam. It answered your question as you continued. “I’m sorry... you should’ve told me.”

“Shut up you sweet-loving psycho. It happens every year... this year’s just especially worse.” The villain lowly mumbled as he embraced you. The house was silent for a moment, the only sound that could be heard was the wind rustling outside and the heater turning back and forth. He finally spoke up after his racing heart had calmed. “...I promise, I’ll tell you everything one day. Now isn’t the right time.” That sent a small pang to your heart, after 2 years of dating and he still didn’t open up to you about his past. But god did you still love him with all of your heart. He slowly pulled his blood soaked face away from you, touching the streaks of irony red that flowed from his patchy purple scars. The next thing you knew his eyes were locked with yours, staring intently as if you were the only thing in the world to him. “Just know I won’t let anyone hurt you. I’ll burn them alive and see them in hell to kick their ass again. You’re... the first person to ever see me this vulnerable. Be lucky.”

You smiled. “That’s my Dabi...” Once your lips locked gently with his, the night faded away. Dabi held you tightly in his arms, not wanting to let you go, not wanting to let you slip through his fingers. His heart was still eating him alive at what he had done to you. He had never loved anyone more than he loved you. No one else would’ve accepted him, stayed with him, appreciated his company, love the way he looked even though he hated himself, and loved him for who he was. You didn’t see the evil in his heart, only the pain and rage that wouldn’t stop surfacing.

He hated doing this to you.

The city was in a panic, all evacuated from the Dangerous parts that villains had raided. Dabi had made sure you were somewhere where no one could hurt you. He’d told you to visit your parents a bit farther in Japan, promising he’d return. Of course your protested with a pout, you always did. He loved that too, always wanting to spend time with him. The inky black drops of dye fell off his naturally red hair stained white. His turquoise eyes burned with rage and excitement as he stared down at the man who’d ruined his life. He thought back to you, how you were witnessing his confession, his pain in the television, learning his identity. It hurt to not be there to comfort you, but he needed to do this. He was just happy he’d told you before he ended everything. To finally have closure in his heart.

His staples burned again, blood slowly falling from his scared skin.

*static*

“Now that you all know the truth...” His eyes locked with the camera. “I love you (Y/N). My Sweet Lover.” A pure loving smile. “Ill see you again.”

*static*

[eebiedoo]

EASY WEEKDAY RAMEN

Just an easy weekday lunch on the cheap without compromising flavor or satisfaction. I learned most everything I know from the “way of ramen” channel on YouTube so check them out.

THE FIVE COMPONENTS:

Really good ramen has five basic components. Broth, noodles, aromatic oil, tare (seasonings like mirin and soy sauce), and toppings. Let’s take a look at some options I feel fit the cheap and easy vibe of this recipe.

The soup: at home I just use the packet from instant ramen, my favorites being Sapporo ichiban beef, and nissin’s tonkotsu from their raoh line.

I also like to add umami using a ground mushroom mix from Trader Joe’s, since I don’t like the texture of mushrooms. You could also use dried shiitake too.

NOODLES: again we turn to instant ramen for the noodles. They’re quick, and palatable enough for me, though I avoid maruchan where possible. I like to boil them separately from the soup usually, but lately I’ve gotten lazy and boil them together to save on dishes. You could also make your own noodles but beware, chefs mean it when they say it takes ten years to master making noodles.

OIL: This part seems to get overlooked a lot but it’s a big part of enjoying the bowl 🍲 I like to use about a clove of minced garlic and an equal amount of ginger paste. Fry in a quarter cup of vegetable oil for a minute or until the garlic and ginger are nicely browned and remove from the heat. To make this quicker and spicier you can also use chili oil instead.

TARE: traditional ramen gets all of its bolder flavors from the tare, but we’ve already got a lot going on here, so we’ll keep it simple. A table spin of soy sauce and a dash each of mirin and Worcestershire sauce. If you’re making this ahead of time you can also cook the tare on the stove with garlic and ginger to increase the flavor and mellow out the soy sauce.

TOPPINGS: everybody’s favorite part of ramen am I right? Now I presume you’ve seen naruto before and if not let me explain that he likes ramen with a soft boiled egg, extra chashu pork and pickled bamboo shoot (menma).

I don’t really care to make chashu and can’t seem to find it at my local grocer, so I go for lunch meats. Particularly sliced roast Beef if I’m making a beef broth. Here’s some other tasty toppings

Blanched spinach

Water chestnuts (sliced)

Sliced green/spring onion

Sliced and grilled leek

Small nori (dried seaweed) sheets

Bean sprouts (boiled is best)

Crispy bacon

I’ve also heard good things about corn and butter on miso ramen.

SERVING: we’re not done yet. Many chefs advocate serving in a warmed bowl. I made this easy by microwaving my bowls for 30 sec. adjust according to your dishes and microwave. From here we start with about a tablespoon of your aromatic oil, then a tablespoon of tare. As about two cups of soup, and then noodles. Pull your noodles from one end of the bowl across to form a visible patty in the middle of your showy like me. Finally add your desired toppings. I like a couple pieces of nori, roast beef, pickled bamboo shoots, and green onion.

And there you have it. Ideally this should have only taken two pots and a can opener for dishes, so it’s great for serving a crowd. And now that we’ve come to the end, do me a favor, experiment for yourself and tell me how it goes. See if you can make miso ramen work, because I can’t seem to get close to restaurant quality miso.

TLDR: add cheap toppings and umami boosters to your instant ramen to make it taste better.

[skzsauce01]

In Fair Verona︱Chapter 5

Synopsis: Jisung knows he is the Romeo to your Juliet. He could wax poetry about you all throughout rehearsal and even a little after. Except Hwang Hyunjin is the one playing Romeo in the school play, not him. Jisung is just another tech crew member that you don’t know, but he’s determined to win your heart... by any means necessary.

Warning: none... yet

Word Count: 2.2k

Pairing: fem!reader x Jisung; fem!reader x Hyunjin

updates every Wednesday and Sunday @ 11 PM PST︱chapter list

Do you bite your thumb at us, sir?

I do bite my thumb, sir.

Jisung spends the entire weekend brooding and checking you and Hyunjin’s social media for updates. Hyunjin posts a picture of you sitting across from him with a cup of pink yogurt and a cup of lavender yogurt in the middle. You hold a pink plastic spoon in your hand and smile at the camera. “Romeo and Juliet, but they eat froyo instead of poison,” reads the caption. Jisung almost hurls his phone against the wall.

When Monday rehearsal arrives, he’s relaxed enough to have a civil conversation with Hyunjin. Hyunjin compliments his shirt while waiting for his cue in Act I, scene I. Jisung jokes that his shirt looks nice as well, and they both politely laugh. Once his back is turned though, Jisung places his thumb between his teeth. Flipping him off would be too direct. Analyzing this stupid play in freshman year finally has some use. He does it again when Hyunjin exits the stage.

“Is your thumb bleeding?” Yugyeom asks. “There’s band-aids in the classroom.”

Jisung swiftly takes it out of his mouth. “I’m fine. I was just… thinking,” he lamely says. “I’m gonna go wash my hands now.”

He tells Changbin, who in turn tells him to hurry because the scene is going to end in a few minutes. Then, against the rules that have hardwired into his brain, he runs down the hallway to the bathroom. As he lathers his hands in soap, he wonders how else he can express his hatred towards Hyunjin without anyone knowing. Deliberately place props in prime locations for tripping over? “Accidentally” hit him with set pieces during blackouts? He turns on the faucet and rinses the soap off.

He makes it backstage just as the lights go out. He doesn’t even bother with his headset; he helps Changbin with the couch as Ryujin and Yugyeom roll out the fake windows. When he’s back in the wings, he sees you chatting with Hyunjin while you wait for your cue. He waves hello to you, but you’re too preoccupied with the conversation to notice. His hand drops to his side, and his cheeks heat up in embarrassment. He puts his headset back on and resumes his usual activity of watching you perform. He spots Hyunjin doing the same. It feels like a competition now: who pays attention to and adores Y/N the most?

“She’s a great actress,” he says out loud. “Don’t you think so, Ryujin?”

She looks up from her phone and out onto the stage. “Lady Capulet?” she asks incredulously.

“No, Juliet.”

Hyunjin visibly perks up when he hears your name. Or rather, your character’s name.

“Oh. She’s good, I guess,” she shrugs. “Probably why she has the lead role.”

“She’s, like, Olivia Hussey good. She portrays Juliet well.”

Jisung barely knows what he’s saying, but Ryujin seems to buy it. She nods before turning her eyes back to her phone screen. Jisung feels himself inflate with pride as Hyunjin doesn’t say anything. He waits for him to turn around and agree, but he just continues to wait for the next scene to begin.

The tide quickly turns as the party scene approaches. Jisung drives himself mad wondering if you and Hyunjin will actually kiss. Stage kisses are the norm in JYP Academy Theater, but Ms. Park demanded real kisses last Friday. Will the kiss simply be skipped over like usual and only performed during the main shows? Will you let him kiss you? Jisung’s head spins with the word ‘kiss,’ and he envisions Hyunjin placing his lips on yours in front of an audience. His own lips curl up in horror, and he taps his foot against the floor in a panic.

When the moment arrives, he finds himself walking towards the edge of the stage again. Changbin, used to his antics now, grabs the back of his shirt to stop him. Meanwhile, you and Hyunjin touch palms, and Hyunjin leans in, eyes closed, mouth pursed. His other hand cups your face, blocking the audience’s view. Jisung can’t see from where he’s standing, but based off of the collective “Ooh!” in the comms, there’s a kiss happening.

“What happened?” he frantically asks. “Did they actually kiss?”

“I think they did it,” says Jeongin. “It’s kind of hard to tell from back here. Hey, Mr. Gi, did they do it?”

“I don’t know,” is his short reply.

The rest of the conversation fades into white noise, and Jisung feels his heart splitting into two. It’s a just possibility, but one nonetheless. He’s hyperventilating now, and he heavily presses a hand to his chest in a weak attempt to stop his lungs from heaving. It only makes him even more aware of his devastation. The second kiss of the scene is almost a repeat of the first, but he can’t look away from the trainwreck that is his love life.

There’s no redos, and Act II begins. You’re waiting for scene two, and no one’s nearby you except for Yugyeom, who always looks like he wants to die of embarrassment whenever he’s around you because of the changing incident. Jisung quickly walks up to you and taps you on the shoulder. You turn around.

“Hey. You were really good out there,” he tightly says. “Especially the party scene.”

You have the same look on your face as Yugyeom. “A-ah, thanks. It was my first time doing something like that.” You look like you’re ready to bolt.

This is his chance to find out the truth, so he follows up with, “I heard first stage kisses are difficult.”

You can’t confirm or deny it because scene one ends, and you have to get up onto the balcony set piece. With clear relief in your voice, you whisper, “Sorry, gotta go,” before running out, taking the stairs two at a time.

Jisung swears under his breath and bites his thumb at Hyunjin, who is comparing you to the sun again. To his annoyance, Hyunjin has improved and no longer sounds like he’s reading off of notecards. You seem to be enjoying his monologue, and he sees you trying to hold back a grin. Your pleased, rosy glow softens your normal high noon sunshine to a golden sunset, and even Ms. Park seems satisfied by the acting. She has only praise for the balcony scene, and you and Hyunjin beam with pride.

While you disappear to change — Jisung’s so glad that scenes three and four are long enough that you can change in the dressing room — he devises a plan to eat dinner with you and potentially give you the chips he wanted to give on Friday. The only flaw of the plan is that you have to finish changing before Hyunjin, so he can spend time with you before Hyunjin inevitably comes in and ruins everything.

When dinner break is announced, he jumps out of his seat and walks as casually as possible to the classroom. The microwave line is beginning to form, and Jisung brushes past them. There’s no unclaimed seat at your table, so he sits nearby. He discreetly moves his belongings to his new location and pulls out his dinner. He purposely brought ramen, so he could have an excuse to start a conversation with you. If he has to eat it for the rest of the week, then so be it.

He watches the door as he slowly prepares his meal. Where are you? He can only hope Hyunjin doesn’t show up first. Luckily, you walk in a few minutes later with no Hyunjin behind you. You sit down and push the textbooks to the side. You pull out a container from your lunch bag.

He twists his body, so he can face you better. “Fried rice again?” he teases.

“I decided to borrow your idea. Instant jajangmyeon.” You unsnap the lid and proudly reveal the unmistakable black package. You rip it open and let the noodle brick slide into the container. “I told Hyunjin about it, and he thought it was genius.”

“Oh!” It comes out more high pitched and strained than he anticipated.

“Yeah.” You pour hot water from your own thermos and let it cook. “I can’t believe I didn’t think of it. I wouldn’t have had to eat fried rice for five days straight. And this tastes way better, too.”

“Was this your after rehearsal food on Friday?” he asks, though he knows the real answer.

“You remembered that? No, I had froyo with Hyunjin. Ms. Park said we should hang out outside of rehearsal, so we could be more comfortable with each other.” You bite your lower lip. “For the, you know” — your voice drops to a hush — “kiss scenes.”

He feels more relieved now, knowing that Friday night was more like a homework assignment than a date.

“Did you really kiss him today?”

You shift in your seat, uncomfortable by his question. He feels a pang of guilt, but he really, really needs to know.

“It was a stage kiss.”

Is that disappointment in your voice?

Whatever your feelings are, he’s just happy that nothing happened between you and Hyunjin. He reaches into his backpack and takes out a crushed, but unopened, bag of chips. He holds it out to you, and your uneasiness from earlier is replaced by amusement.

“You still have that?”

“I left before Jeongin could find me. Do you want it?”

“Well…”

“Take it.” He tosses the bag at you, and it lands on top of your container. “You’re not gonna be able to eat anything until your noodles finish cooking. We can’t have Juliet starving.”

“Okay then.” You hesitantly open the bag and place one in your mouth. As expected, it’s a fragment. “Thanks.”

Hyunjin doesn’t show up for dinner, and Jisung gladly spends the rest of the time with you. He eats from his own bag of chips and politely asks to try one of yours in exchange for one of his own. You let him try your first attempt of making instant jajangmyeon using the Jisung method, and he approves. The two of you discuss the best snacks at the convenience store, and he’s delighted to find out that you like strawberry Pepero too. When rehearsal resumes, Jisung feels like he’s walking on sunshine.

The rest of rehearsal goes by in a blur. When you had your quick change on stage, he faces the wall again and listens to the conversation you have with Ryujin. He doesn’t even care that you and Hyunjin share scenes with each other and seem to be flirting with each other. You have more in common outside of theater with him than Hyunjin. Without a care in the world, he openly throws up the middle finger at Hyunjin when Ms. Park calls for a rerun of the balcony scene. Yugyeom looks confused at his actions but says nothing. Changbin, however, does.

“Jisung, what are you doing?” he asks. “Do you hate Juliet or something?”

He’s a little offended that Changbin came to that conclusion. He doesn’t tell him the truth though. “The balcony. I just remembered trying to build those stairs. Screw those stairs.”

It’s not a full lie; he does hate the balcony with a passion because building those stupid stairs was an absolute pain.

Changbin laughs. “Ah, good times. You looked like you wanted to kill Seungmin when he used your wood.”

“Still do.”

Tech notes are an even distribution among sound, lights, and stage crew. Jisung doesn’t receive any specific criticisms, but Mr. Gi does send the floor crew to respike the floor to meet Ms. Park’s new demands about set piece placement. Tech crew is dismissed for the night, and Jisung goes to get the spiking tape from the classroom while Changbin and the freshman crew member wait on stage.

The actors are still getting notes, so he quietly opens the cabinets where the tape is located. He rummages around for longer than needed while trying to find out if you are watching him. He decides to bring out all five rolls of fluorescent tape with him, wearing them on his wrist like a stack of bracelets. He hears a chuckle, and when he turns around, he realizes it’s coming from Hyunjin, who has a hand over his mouth. Jisung leaves the room and mouths a curse at him.

He finishes spiking the new locations, and by that time, Ms. Park is done with notes. It’s a familiar scene — you sitting on top of a table, sipping water. Only this time, you have a bag of chips in your other hand.

“Aren’t you glad I made you take them?” he teases as he puts the tape away.

“Yes,” you admit. “Do you want any?” You hold out the bag, and he can see that it’s mostly crumbs and dust.

“I’m good.” He shoulders his backpack and picks up his hoodie from where it has fallen to the floor. “Are you waiting to be picked up?”

“Yeah.” You crumple up the now-empty bag. “See you tomorrow?”

He realizes his mistake: he looks like he’s leaving when he just wanted a reason to be next to you. “Yeah. Good night.”

“Good night.”

Instead of driving home right away, he goes to the convenience store for strawberry Pepero to give to you tomorrow. They do say that the way to a person’s heart is through their stomach.

~ ad.gray

Prepare to be baited. Apologies in advance.

[vannahfanfics]

Of Comfort and Cup Noodles

Category: Hurt and Comfort 

Fandom: My Hero Academia

Characters: Ochako Uraraka, Fumikage Tokoyami

Requested By: generic-goblin (Tumblr)

Hey, everybody! Here’s another story for @bnhabookclub​’s Bingo Event for the prompt “Bad News”! Enjoy~

Ochako hummed happily to herself as she watched the cup of instant ramen slowly spin in the microwave. Her brown eyes focused on the bubbling water slipping out of the lid to roll in steaming droplets down the patterned plastic side. Her mouth watered as her mind danced with visions of soft noodles, hearty vegetables, and tender meat. She’d scored some high-scale ramen at a supermarket sale, so Ochako vibrated with excitement, simply dying to taste the fancy noodles from which she was typically barred. She watched the seconds tick down with mounting excitement. Before the microwave even had a chance to beep with the finished countdown, she popped the machine open. 

“Oh my Goooooood,” she exhaled exultantly as the aroma of cooked ramen wafted up her nose. Her eyelashes fluttered with ecstasy just smelling it, so naturally, her tastebuds tingled in rapt anticipation. Using a dishtowel to transport the hot cup, she scurried over to her small table and set the cup down. Wielding her chopsticks in one hand, she slowly peeled the lid back and watched with dilated pupils as hot steam billowed from within. The noodles looked simply perfect bobbing in the light brown broth, and a thick slice of chicken surrounded by green onions, spinach, and carrots practically screamed at her to be eaten. Laughing almost maniacally with exaltation, she plucked the meat from the broth, which dripped deliciously from its off-white surface. Ochako blew on it briefly before slipping it into her mouth. With a delighted, muffled squeal, she melted against the floor, having achieved nirvana with just one bite. 

“Soooo gooooood,” she groaned blissfully. The ramen was seasoned to perfection, and the healthy blend of vegetables only added to the delectable taste. She flopped back up and began digging into the ramen with gusto, savoring each swathe of noodles with airy giggles before inhaling some more. She was so enraptured with her meal that she didn’t notice that her phone was ringing until she almost missed the call. 

“Hello? Hello?” she cried into the phone as she hurriedly picked it up, her voice slightly distorted from the noodles still shoved into her mouth. She quickly swallowed, beaming when her mother voiced greeting on the other end of the line. “Oh, hi, Mom! What’s up?” she asked and pushed the ramen aside to hold conversation properly. They made pleasant small talk, but there was a particular strain in her mother’s voice that had Ochako’s nerves buzzing suspiciously. When her mother abruptly sighed, Ochako inquired, “Mom? Is everything all right?” Silence hummed in the other end of the line for several seconds. 

“I don’t know, ‘Chako,” her mother finally admitted in a small voice. Unnerved, Ochako tucked her legs under herself and narrowed her eyes. 

“What is it?” 

“Your father… His company lost a really, really big building deal.” Ochako gasped, and her hand flew to her mouth in shock. Her mother’s voice shook tremulously as she struggled not to cry, but Ochako could practically hear the fat tears rolling down her cheeks. “He’s been working so hard to score this contract for three months… But the investors went with someone else. It’s already so difficult finding projects in the winter,” her mother lamented woefully. “This was our only shot. I don’t know what we’re going to do, Ochako. The bills are mounting up, and I just… I just…” Her mother trailed off into bitter sobs. 

“Mom, it’ll be okay,” Ochako offered weakly. She wanted to help her mother, but the fear crept up, spilling a dreadful cold feeling through every inch of her body. “You know… It always is,” she continued lamely. Ochako struggled to offer encouragement to the weeping woman, but every forced reassurance fell pitifully short. After about five minutes of weak consoling, her mother quietly thanked Ochako for listening and assured her not to worry about her parents’ financial struggles. By this time, her body had gone painfully numb. Ochako couldn’t even feel her limb moving as she slowly lowered her cell phone to the table. She stared down at the half-finished bowl of ramen, and her belly twisted with nausea. 

Guilt swept through her like a tidal wave. Sure, she’d gotten the ramen on sale, but she’d still splurged and spent an extra dollar or two on the package. How could she be so selfish when her parents were literally struggling to make ends meet? Shameful tears burned in the corners of her eyes; as they slipped down her cheeks, they felt like lava, searing marks into her skin. She pushed the cup away, no longer able to bear the thought of finishing it. She had no right.

Ochako pressed her face into her palms as sobs gripped her body. “Oh, Mama… Oh, Papa… I’m so sorry!” she cried petulantly. In her anguish, she didn’t think to quiet her crying, and instead wailed openly. Mina’s room was down the hall, and the bubbly pink girl frequently spent her evenings in the first-floor common area, so by all rights, Ochako thought no one would hear her sobbing. 

That’s why the light, timid knock at her dorm room door nearly startled her out of her skin. 

“Uraraka?” The wood muffled the voice, making it difficult for her to hear who exactly it was, but it sounded like one of the boys. “Uraraka, are you… okay? I heard… I heard you crying.” Ochako shakily stood up and swiped at her face, trying to conceal the evidence of her misery. 

“I-I’m coming!” she cried, stumbling over herself to get to the door. In her clumsiness, she banged her shin against the corner of the table. She swallowed a pained squeal and stood there for a second to let the burning pain subside. “J-just a second!” she called, her voice now several octaves higher, as she slowly limped to the door. She tossed her hair from her face as she opened it, forcing a bright, fake grin on her face. “Oh, hey, Tokoyami!” she cheerfully greeted the feathered boy standing at her door. 

Fumikage inspected her critically. 

“Uh… Are you okay?” Fumikage asked suspiciously. Ochako’s cheesy grin didn’t falter as she leaned casually against the door frame, mentally cursing as her shin flared with pain once more. 

“I-I, of course, why wouldn’t I be okay?” she asked with a nervous chuckle. Fumikage’s red eyes looked her up and down, drinking in her very disheveled appearance. 

“Uh-huh…” he droned disbelievingly. “Well, I was just at Shoji’s room,” he explained while pointing over his shoulder, “and when I was heading to the stairs, I heard you crying… pretty loud…” 

“Are you sure it’s not Mina? She’s been soooooo stressed about the upcoming winter finals.” 

“Mina’s downstairs.” 

“Ummm, someone’s television could be on…” 

“Please stop lying to me, Uraraka. I’d rather you just tell me that you don’t want to talk about it.” Ochako’s plastic smile fell from her face immediately to crash at her feet like porcelain, making her nerves prickle up her legs. Fumikage’s eyes had taken on an irritatedly concerned aura, and it felt like those ruby irises bored straight into her soul. Ochako’s bottom lip wobbled as she stared at him culpably.

I do want to talk about it, she realized sadly. With a troubled sigh, she stepped aside and tiredly gestured for Fumikage to enter. He hesitated a second, jerking as he debated stepping over the threshold, before stiffly walking into the room. Ochako swung the door closed and then walked over to her bed, where she slumped onto it like a bag of lard. 

Fumikage leaned against the wall opposite her and crossed his arms, capturing her in an intense but not judgemental gaze. “So, what happened?” Ochako played with her fingers for a minute before answering. 

“My parents are having money problems…” she admitted in a tiny voice. “My dad works in construction, and he just lost a huge contract that would’ve floated them through the winter. It’s hard to get work during the winter season because the cold makes construction work difficult… They were really relying on this contract, and now, my mom isn’t sure they’ll be able to make their bills.” Her lips trembled as she slid her teary gaze to the now lukewarm cup of gourmet ramen on her table. “And here I am… splurging my allowance on stupid gourmet ramen while my parents are struggling,” she moped with a sob and buried her face into her hands. “I’m so selfish and greedy!” she wailed. 

“Uraraka!” Fumikage cried, and she could hear him stumble forward by the sounds of his unsteady footsteps over the wood floor. Ochako peered through her fingers to find him standing in front of her, hands fluttering around her form but too nervous to actually touch her. Eventually, he grabbed her wrists to gently lower her hands from her face and rest them in her lap. Muted, Ochako allowed the boy to manipulate her body like a puppet, finding a strange comfort in his guiding movements. Fumikage exhaled deeply and sank onto the bed beside her, pressing himself slightly against her in a soothing fashion. “Uraraka… You aren’t selfish or greedy.” 

The girl cast another remorseful glance at the cup ramen on the table. Before she could voice opposition, Fumikage gently grabbed her chin and turned her face back to him. A blush crept into her cheeks as his fingers slowly fell from her face in a gentle caress. “You’re not. Your parents’ troubles aren’t your fault, and so you don’t need to punish yourself with guilt over some ramen.” Hearing it out loud solidified how absurd her feelings were, making her snivel. She shifted nervously and looked down at her lap. 

“You’re right… How silly of me…” 

“It’s not silly,” he objected with a kind smile. When Ochako looked up at him, he turned nervous and twiddled his fingers. “I-I mean, it’s not uncommon to feel bad and shoulder the burdens of your parents…” he explained quickly. “But I’m sure they don’t want you to do that. I’m sure they’d much rather you be smiling and enjoying yourself,” he said with another look into her face. Ochako blinked, surprised by the wisdom of his advice, and then smiled warmly. 

“Yeah… You’re right. Thank you,” Ochako said. She genuinely felt a lot better, and she rose from the bed to stretch her arms over her head. “I feel loooooads better!” she crowed. Tokoyami jumped at her sudden outburst, but then chuckled and stood up beside her. 

“I’m relieved.” 

“You’re so kind for coming to check on me, Tokoyami,” Ochako beamed, clasping her hands behind her back and smiling radiantly at him. Fumikage flushed and nervously shifted his feet with shy mumbles. When he mentioned something about excusing himself, Ochako grabbed the hem of his shirt. “No, no! Please stay. If you’re not doing anything else, of course,” she asked with a flutter of her eyelashes. If his face wasn’t covered in dark black feathers, she was sure his face would be beet-red. “I’ve got another packet of that gourmet ramen. We can share it.” 

“What? No, Ochako, I couldn’t-” he began to stammer, but in that moment, Dark Shadow sprang out of him with a delighted squeal. 

“Ramen! Ramen!” the shadowy spirit demanded insistently. Ochako giggled and patted the bird-like spirit’s head, then proceeded to prepare two more packets of the ramen for them. Fumikage flapped anxiously around her as she filled the two noodle cups with water. 

“O-Ochako, you spent money on that… I simply couldn’t!” he protested. Ochako ignored him as she popped the first one into the microwave. 

“Nonsense,” she said while starting the timer. She looked over her shoulder at him with a sweet smile. “You helped me deal with my bad news. Besides, a meal is always better when you have someone to share with!” Fumikage blinked at her, then resigned himself to the situation with an amused smile. 

“Yeah. You’re right. Thanks.” Ochako hummed happily, and together, they watched the ramen cup spin slowly around the microwave- but they were too absorbed in trading smiles to count down the seconds.

Enjoy this oneshot? Feel free to peruse my Table of Contents!

Tag List: @deliathedork​ @sadistiks​ @wesparklebitch​ @simplybakugou​

[angst-king]

Misery loves Company pt 3

(tw: mention of vomiting.) She’d been sick on and off for a few days now and today was the final straw. Too weak to pick up the camera, she for many days surrendered anything she tried to take into the toilet. Right now she was sitting on the floor pale as a ghost, shaking and vomiting in front of the toilet. She’d been having Mass cell activation syndrome symptoms since her flare up started. Reactions ranged from very mild to feeling so weak to the point of being bed ridden. When the vomiting had stopped her world began to spin, it felt like the world was moving yet she was not. It wasn’t long before she collapsed onto the tile flooring of her bathroom.

She woke up to her dad calling her name, his face full of worry. “Ochako! Ochako sweetie wake up please!” Her eyes fluttered open, looking up at her father who sighed in relief. “Oh thank god, how do you feel? You still feel warm sweetie.” Ochako hated telling her parents how she felt because she knew that when flare ups happen like this, she would need to be admitted. They had already talked to her doctor earlier in the week and she was already going to be admitted to a long stay but to take her to an ER if it gets any worse. Though she had a reason for not wanting to go to a hospital, it was money.

Her parents weren’t exactly middle class money making citizens nor were they high class, absolutely nowhere near it. They were in a lower class category, her parents ran a construction business to make ends meet yet they still had their struggles with paying. Especially for medication, doctors visits, hospitalizations and such. Things Ochako couldn’t exactly go without. So in order to help their situation Ochako had started painting and drawing in order to gain money for medical costs, this was to at least take some sort of financial burden from her parents. On one side they were proud of her for stepping on and helping, her art skills were great and she was definitely making money off of it. Many co-workers, friends, and family, and even strangers bought her art, yet. Her parents felt so wrong from profiting and benefiting off of their chronically ill daughter’s artistic talent. They felt as if they were just adding stress to Ochako which wasn’t good for her health and they weren’t far from the truth, there were times where Ochako was knee deep in work to the point where it made her sick and unable to do much of anything. Those were the days and nights both parents felt the most guilty, or when Ochako would tell them she was fine just to keep hospital visits low enough for pay day to come. 

This time a meeting with her doctors made her agree to going back to the long stay hospital again. She’d gone many times in the past but this time it would be different. She was going for a similar reason, especially around this time of year her symptoms would get worse. School was starting and with that came more stress and that meant more flare ups, which meant more calling out of school to try and deal with flare ups. It was concluded that her immune system was able to handle going to school so they wanted to start the school year in hospital where they could help manage and maybe even take away symptoms and get her better to an extent.

One huge relief about going to this hospital was it was a different hospital where costs were minimal seeing as they got huge donations from rich companies and families pretty often. So expenses weren’t going to be a problem which for Ochako when she heard the news made her cry with relief. Of course that broke her parents hearts that their daughter was crying over the fact that they didn’t have to worry about additional hospital bills. They really wished that she didn’t have to live with this burden, of both being chronically ill and poor.

When she was able to answer her father, she knew she couldn’t lie to him now. “H-horrible” She says as tears roll down, her body hurts so much, it feels like people are drilling into her bones, especially her arms. She was still so nauseous yet she knew she didn’t have anything but acid and bile left in her. “I’m sorry sweetie. Well you’re going tomorrow okay, but let me know if you feel like you need to go to the hospital okay.” She nodded and tried to get up but her legs were too weak to hold her up, so her dad just carried her to bed. Laying down, Ochako got under the blankets. Grabbing her phone she decided to update her social media followers on her status and what’s going on. 

‘Hey guys, hope you’re all doing alright, I’m letting you all know now that I’m being admitted to a long stay children’s hospital tomorrow so when I start posting videos and such it’ll be in hospital. I’m okay just having a very rough flare up.’ She sent this out through her snap and instagram, she didn’t have the energy to film or do a tik tok update. Though it wasn’t long before her phone was blowing up with responses. Sitting up in bed a little she grabbed her phone and checked her socials. Lazily scrolling while hearing a couple of ‘dings!’ ‘Wow 44 replies on insta! 55 on snap! Jeez, these guys are fast!’ Ochako thought to herself, unable to stay awake long enough to look through replies, she shuts her phone off and lays back down and allows herself to fall back to sleep.

Sleeping through her afternoon and day, she’d been woken up early by her mother. “Ochako! Ochako sweetheart, time to wake up.” Much like her father, Mrs Uraraka’s voice was gentle. Eyes fluttering open partly enough to acknowledge her mother she groans and replies. “I-I’m awake” Her own voice groggy and raspy, still with the strength she had, she sat up against her pillows. Rubbing at her temples and sighing she says “Today’s the day right?” Ochako’s mom knew what she meant and nodded. “Yes it is, your dad already put your luggage in the car.” “o-okay, i-I’ll get dressed, take meds and such. J-just give me a minute please.” Ochako stammers as she tiredly shifts to get out of bed. GIving her space the woman smiles fondly at her daughter. “No rush hun, take it easy, would you like for me to make you something?”  Ochako shakes her head “N-no, i-i’ve got it, thank you though mom.” Once her mom left, Ochako used what energy she had to pack up what she had left, like her electronics, art supplies, and make-up. Making up her bed, she brushes her teeth, washes her face and brushes out her hair not in the mood to style it. Grabbing her bag and her phone she takes it to the living room before going back and getting dressed into some comfortable clothes. She put on a black tank top under a beige cardigan along with black shorts, and grabbed a pink mask before heading back out of her room, putting her phone into the pocket of her shorts as she went into the kitchen.

Seeing her parents sitting down having a cup of coffee, she smiles. “Morning mom and dad” the couple smiled back at her “Good morning Ocha, how are you feeling?” Asked her father who put down his cup of coffee to speak. “Not too much better but, I’m gonna try and eat a little bit of something.” Ochako went through the pantry as she spoke before grabbing a ‘cup-of-noodles’ box. Usually instant ramen would be one of the few things she could keep down when having a flare up. So she tried it out, filling the cup with water and popping it in the microwave. She grabbed her medications so she could take them with her food. Ochako had been having a hard time keeping food down or just trying to swallow it, but even then she hardly had the appetite to eat. So today she was gonna try and eat what she could. Once the cup of ramen was done she took it out and grabbed some chopsticks, some water and went to sit down.

Sitting down with her parents, Ochako started eating her breakfast, she had to take a break though, not even a third of the way finished her throat was so tired, but it wasn’t enough for her to take her pills. Even though it was starting to hurt to swallow she forced two more mouthfuls down. Then she swallowed the pills with gulps of water. She felt okay, maybe she could actually keep down the ramen? Good, with everything done the family grabbed their keys, and got into the car.

The car ride wasn’t very pleasant, nothing wrong with horrible driving or anything like that. It was Ochako, she was feeling her symptoms again and it wasn’t coming on lightly. Curling up in the back seat, she tiredly leaned against the door, rubbing her forehead a little bit she huffed. Mom looking through the mirror she asked “You okay back there, Ocha?”  “y-yeah mom-” She hiccuped before she could finish, which brought up her breakfast. Which didn’t seem to have gotten all the way down to her stomach from the way it had come back up. She quickly covers her mouth with both hands. This had happened maybe twice, this being the second time, so this was rather alarming for Ochako. Turning to see if Ochako was alright, Mrs Uraraka quickly told her husband to pull over. Luckily cars moved, letting their car pull over to the side of the road to a stop. Not noticing this, Ochako was focusing on keeping her breakfast from making a mess of the back seat of the car. She didn’t notice the car had stopped, Mrs Uraraka got out of the car and opened Ochako’s door for her, moving to help her out and just in time Ochako moved her hand. Sick splattering in the grass, hunched over, Ochako coughed up anything else that was trying to come up that included the medicine she’d taken. Well that went to waste. 

Holding her steady, her mother asked if she was done and helped her clean up before helping her back into the car. “You okay Ochako?” Her dad asked “y-yeah, kinda nauseous but I’ll be fine. W-were almost there.” She answered uncertainty yet still trying to keep her parents from worrying. “Okay, yeah we’re almost there, not much farther, just passed this next exit and two lights.” They start their drive again getting back onto the road. Ochako is doing her best to relax but her symptoms aren’t making it any easier. She’s getting very tired, she’s still nauseous, her joints are starting to feel like they’re burning, and her head is really hurting. The pain becomes and on and off pulsing burning instead of just being continuous. It's making her shaky and uneasy, but she’s taking deep breaths the best she can to calm herself.

It's only ten minutes before they pull into the parking lot and god is this hospital huge! 

Though this isn’t a surprise to the Urarakas, they’re used to going to hospitals like these from past experiences. Grabbing her Mask Ochako got out of the car once they found a parking lot. Her mom gave her some gum to chew on for the time being. Putting on the mask as she gets out of the car, her dad grabs the main bag while she grabs her smaller one and slung it over her shoulders. “Alright we got everything?” Inquired the brown haired woman who peaked inside the car. “I believe so, Ochako is a light packer you know dear.” Her father chuckles, Mrs Uraraka giggles and locks the car and they head inside the building.

Walking into the large hospital the automatic doors open and they approach a woman who’s sitting at a large front desk. She smiles and greets them “hello” Mrs Uraraka is first to speak “Hi, we’re here to admit our daughter here for a long stay, I was told we needed to meet with her doctors first before anything else?” “Oh yes, ah what is your daughter’s name?” “Uraraka Ochako” Typing into her computer the woman then asks “Date of birth?” Mrs Uraraka gives her the information, as well as much more before they were told to sit in the waiting room.

Ochako was curled up in the seat, mask on, trying to stay awake long enough for the doctor to come but she felt so sick.

The hospital was cold and it was making Uraraka feel worse, thankfully she had her cardigan, she didn’t wear it while in the car but she could definitely put it on now. Slipping it on did help, it gave her warmth and some form of comfort. It wasn’t long before a nurse came out calling Ochako’s name. So getting up from their spot in the waiting room, the family follows the nurse who brings them back to an exam room. Walking through the halls, Ochako noticed how multicolored the designs were yet they coordinated and went well together.

Walking past multiple closed doors towards an open one, the nurse allows them all to step in first before herself. Taking a seat, Uraraka got onto the large exam bed as the nurse spoke. “The doctor will be in shortly, but I’m here to ask a few questions. By the way you call me Jiji” Nodding Uraraka remained as attentive as she could. “You have Crest and Mastocytosis right?” “yes I do” “okay, the doctor recommended you come here based on you having more constant and hard to deal with flare up right?” “Yes, th-that is true.” “Okay, any fever, vomiting, cough, constipation, or diarrhea?”  “I haven’t been able to keep much down, I've been vomiting or coughing things up rather easily, or I just d-don’t have the strength to eat. Yes to the fever though it fluctuated between low grade and mild.” “Okay, have you been having reactions?” “like any Mass cell type? If so then yes, it ranges but it's been making me feel horrendous.” “Alright, can you explain your symptoms to me?” “sure” Ochako gave a brief yet descriptive explanation about what had been going on with her. Jiji took her notes and just as she’d finished the doctor knocked and came in. 

“Hi I’m Dr Tyotski, you must be Uraraka Ochako?” He says, offering his hand to shake after sanitizing both. Ochako shook his hand before he greeted the parents and they exchanged names. Dr Tyotski asks the girl to explain how she’s been doing, confirming a few diagnoses. Then they moved onto treatment plans, they talked about exploring this inability to keep down food, lessening the amount of reactions her Mass cells were giving her, and other treatment plans. There was talk about trying out a new medication, seeing how the hospital environment might change some things. Ochako and her family had had this type of talk with the doctors before so the talk wasn’t going to be longer than it needed to be since this isn’t their first time. Also seeing as Ochako was not going so hot, the doctor wanted to let the young one rest as much as possible and get started on treating Ochako. So he leads her and her family to the elevator, inside he presses the third floor button, and they wait. 

While waiting Ochako was feeling more and more tired, she was leaning more into her father, her mother had taken the carry bag from her in the elevator seeing her daughter was losing more and more strength by the second. Mr Uraraka wrapped his arm around the girl’s waist to hold her up. The doctor took note of this asking if she felt weak and Uraraka answered with a nod and  a quiet voice. “C-can hardly stay up on my own” Her voice was small, shaky, tired, and it broke their hearts. “We’re almost there kiddo, shouldn’t be much longer….We’ll get you hooked up and we’ll see what’s going on.” “o-okay” The elevator opens and they walk onto the floor. Dr Tyotski goes over to the desk and approaches a nurse with jet black hair, and black scrubs. Long black hair is mostly down but some of it is put up into a ponytail. They had a very serious look on their face but that didn’t mask the bags under their eyes. Then those tired eyes looked to Ochako who was loosely being held by her father and those eyes soon went wide. 

Her own eyes drooped and her body began to go limp, as soon as black eyes met those chocolate ones that rolled back. The nurse darts towards the family and grabs Ochako and lowers her towards the floor. Her father is shocked and confusedly lets go. “What’s going on?!” He asked, the nurse was accompanied by Dr Tyotski, they checked her pulse and then the doctor grabbed the walking talkie from the nurse's belt and quickly spoke into it. “This is Dr Tyotski, we need a gurney, a room, and a few nurses on the third floor stat! we’ve got a young female patient with Mass cell activation syndrome and CREST, she just collapsed.”  As the doctor spoke the nurse started to quickly fished something out of their pocket

It looked to be a monitor of some sort, he clamped it to Ochako’s finger. Then it displayed some numbers and the nurse quickly asked the parents “does she have diabetes, or any sort of fainting disorders?” The nurse had a rather deep masculine voice, it was steady yet held urgency and calmness at the same time. “No, no diabetes or fainting disorders.” “Okay, has she been taking in food?” “She’s been vomiting for a few days now, she can barely keep food down.”  Then the nurse went through his pocket and got out a blood sugar testing machine and a test strip, as well as a prick. He pricked her finger after putting in the testing strip and letting the blood collect on the strip after the machine was turned on. Waiting for results, Ochako’s mother explained that Ochako had tried to eat it but ended up throwing it up on the way to the hospital today. Which only made the doctor more impatient, it felt like forever but the gurney arrived just as the numbers did. Aizawa grumbled “Its very low, no wonder, if she hasn’t been able to take in any food then her sugar is going to drop, since this is over the course of a few days then this is just lucky enough that you’re here when she faints.” Aizawa lifted the girl on the gurney and the nurses got to work, right in the middle of the entrance ICU of the long stay facility… As the nurses and doctors worked on Ochako her parents stood anxiously hoping their daughter would be okay. Holding her wife close to himself, he rubbed her back doing his best to comfort her even though he himself is just as uneasy about this situation.

[resistancereborn]

stozier as warring neighbours wc: 2586

He’s gonna lose it. He’s gonna lose it if that music doesn’t fucking stop, because he’s got half a dozen books to read for classes next week and there’s no way he can get through another page with this goddamn racket just above him thumping on the floorboards.

Stan slams his book on the floor and yanks tied his laces, each pull fuelled by his anger and rubbing burn into the sides of his fingers; it’s not worth his coat, and so he troops up the stairs in a Teleman T-shirt and extra soft jeans, a pink cardigan pulled over him to keep him warm.

The music only increases in volume and headache induction as he hurries up the stairs, his fingers tight around the banister. He thinks he might burst before he’s even reached the apartment above at this rate; he knew college wasn’t good for him. His stress levels are through the ceiling to the apartment above.

Gathering himself together and trying to scrape his wandering hair from his forehead, he rings the doorbell; it’s one of those stupid ones that goes on for far too long, playing some annoying little melody.

Nothing moves for a moment, and just as Stan lifts his hand to press the little button again, the door swings open.

The boy standing in the corridor is the same age as Stan, with blue aviator glasses and wild curly black hair that seems to move with him and also live a life of its own; it reminds Stan of a featurette he once saw about the film Brave and the lengths the animators went to to animate Merida’s hair, but seeing it in person is such a surprise that it stops Stan for a moment - that, and the fact that this obvious antagonist in his life is so diabolical that he’s even wearing a Hawaiian shirt like there’s something cool about it.

“Turn down your damn music,” Stan says sharply. “I have to study for my classes, and also, it’d be nice to sleep this century.”

The boy eyes him for a moment, then straightens and grins, wrapping an arm around Stan. “Man, you need a drink. C’mon in, lemme fix you something.”

Stan wants to object, but the music is so loud he doubts he’d be heard anymore - and, if he’s honest with himself, this boy is cute and he’s tired of studying. He indeed could use a drink, and so when one of those stupidly stereotypical red plastic cups is handed to him, he takes a drink of faith - it tastes a lot like elbow and he grimaces, but it also tastes so alcoholic that he swears he can almost feel the buzz already.

The boy laughs and raises his eyebrows at Stan’s scrunched-up expression. “You want some lemonade for that?”

“Please,” Stan groans, ignoring the clear amusement as the boy mixes down whatever the hell it is that Stan has just so confidently chugged a little too much of. He takes another sip once it’s been mixed together with the wrong end of a tablespoon, and this time it’s much more tolerable, and he even lets himself sigh softly.

“Rough time, huh?” the boy asks, guiding Stan through to a quiet sitting room; the rest of the house is throbbing with people flinging themselves around to the overwhelming beat, but this room is empty and even legibly quiet when the boy kicks the door shut behind him. “You the guy from downstairs? The sucker who cried cause you broke your favourite vase?”

Stan presses his lips together, but takes it. “Thank you for the glowing summary of my person - but yeah, that’s me. I’m Stan.”

The boy nods and goes in for what Stan assumes is a handshake but is actually a fistbump; the moment is so awkward that Stan downs the rest of his cup in one, waiting for the fuzz to take over his head. “I’m Richie,” the boy says to fill the glowering void of awkwardness, and Stan is thankful for it. “Your friendly neighbourhood neighbour.”

“Not with music this loud,” Stan says, deadpan, and Richie laughs so hard it almost startles him; wary of himself, Stan puts his cup down on a stack of vinyl records that have taken over one of the room’s few tables.

“You’re fucking ace, Stan. Stan the Man.” Richie grins, spinning the cup precariously in his hand. “I’ll turn it off. Later. I mean, you’re here now, right?”

Stan rolls his eyes. “Yeah, but if it weren’t for you I might be sleeping right now.”

“Why don’t you just go to sleep, then? I got blankets,” Richie says, maybe too earnestly; Stan shorts, and shakes his thrumming head. He’s never going to be able to sleep with this many people around and the music at this ear-splitting volume, so he might as well try and make something of this experience.

He shakes his arms off, lazily, the way he used to be made to do in choir to “improve the blood circulation”; this time, it’s instinct, or perhaps a moment he takes to gear himself up.

“No,” he says. “We’re going to dance.”

--

This is not Stan’s bed: for one, it’s not a bed at all - he can feel his shoulder jammed up against the back of the sofa; second, instead of his thick and gloriously comfy duvet, he’s covered in a series of thin blankets that aren’t tucked in properly and definitely don’t cover him completely.

He forces his tired eyelids open, and stares out into the sight of his party-loving neighbour sprawled out with abandon on the floor, snoring loudly, glasses askew. The light through the window is bright and reflects off him, giving him an ethereal glow Stan’s not sure he deserves.

With a groan, Stan sits up, rubbing the sleep from his eyes as he slings his cardigan over his shoulders; Richie looks too crashed out to wake, and it’s still early, so Stan leaves him be, tiptoeing across the floorboards and pressing the front door lightly shut.

The book is still on the floor in his apartment; tiredly, he picks it up, finding the page he left off at.

He next sees Richie when he ventures out later in the day for lunch - Stan’s out of Pot Noodles and microwave meals, and he’s saved enough money to buy himself a coffee, so he trundles excitedly across the road to their local Starbucks (which he assumes will soon become a godsend and a place where they don’t need to ask his name for the takeaway cup), shuffling into the lunchtime queue and trying to decide if he’s going to have an ordinary coffee or some variety of seasonal drink (what is a ‘cool lime refresha’, anyway?), only to bump right in the back of Richie, who spins around and grins sickeningly at him.

“Oh my god, it’s you!” he exclaims. “Where the fuck did you go?”

It takes Stan a moment to regain his composure, startled by Richie’s sudden reappearance (in Starbucks, of all places!). “Home,” he says. “To study. Which is what I was meant to be doing last night.”

“Study shmudy,” Richie scoffs, waving a hand. “You should come over again, c’mon! We could binge watch something and eat Cheetos. Have you ever seen Brooklyn 99? Oh, I got Baby Driver on DVD the other day, we could watch that!”

Stan attempts not to spontaneously combust on the spot; it works well, because he doesn’t burst into flame when he opens his mouth and says coolly: “look, I had a fun time last night and it was okay but I really have to study now. I want to do well. I’m just here to get some lunch right now.”

Richie tilts his head like a let-down puppy dog. “Classes don’t even start til next week, nerd! Can’t you spare the time for one movie?”

No, Stan cannot; he did not pay exorbitant amounts of money for class materials to not have them all read in time for classes starting. How he expresses this to Richie, he’s less sure, and with a sigh, he runs a hand through his hair. “I really don’t have time. Look, I’m sorry.” He feels bad, he does: Richie’s life can’t be peachy if his idea of fun is blackout drunk parties and watching movies with unassuming neighbours, but he’s determined. He got this far from home; he wants to see it through.

Richie chews his bottom lip, clearly scheming, and just as Stan is about to make his way to order, Richie grabs his arm. “If you come over and watch a movie with me, I’ll buy pizza. But not Hawaiian.”

Stan makes a face. “What do you think I am, a monster?” The idea of real hot food makes his stomach growl audibly, and with a sigh he makes sure to deliberately prolong, he nods. “Okay. Pizza and Baby Driver, but after that, please let me study in peace and don’t have any parties.”

“Deal,” Richie says immediately, jutting out his pinkie.

-

Between them, they order two twelve inch margheritas, dough balls, garlic bread, and two chocolate chip cookie dough puddings. Stan lays them neatly out on the table in the living room while Richie builds them seats of duvets, blankets, and pillows with fierce determination.

“Why do you want me to come and watch TV with you so badly?” Stan asks, setting their glasses of water (health is important) by the plate for the garlic bread.

“Cause I’m lonely,” Richie shrugs. “Only college that’d take me was up here, but I’m away from all my proper friends, y’know? It’s hard to get good bants with random assholes who just want to get drunk. And you’re pretty cute, too.”

Stan blushes. “I’m sorry, did you just ask me up here on a date I didn’t know was a date?”

“Fuck, he’s sentient! He knows!” Richie makes some sort of jazz hands of horror, to which Stan merely raises his unimpressed eyebrows. “Okay, fine, sure, I did. Go leave me for your shitty textbooks or whatever.”

“I’m not going to leave,” Stan says pointedly, “but maybe next time you ought to tell me it’s a date.”

“Wait a minute!” Richie gasps. “Are you already planning our future together? Man, and you thought I was bad! What are you, a gay oracle?”

Stan buries his face in his hands; this is going to be a long movie. “Please shut up, Richie.”

Richie does not shut up, not even during the movie, assigning himself an instant place on Stan’s never-take-to-the-cinema list; but his initially irritating chatter descends into the occasional boisterous joke and witty remark, and Stan finds himself becoming rather fond of Richie’s running commentary and sing-along tactics.

His fondness mildly decreases when Richie steals a piece of his garlic bread.

“Hey!” Stan objects. “You have your own.”

“Why would I eat my own when stolen food tastes so much better?” Richie snorts, tearing off a strip with relish; Stan rolls his eyes, sighing softly as he turns back to his pizza. “B’sides, it’s too much for you to eat all at once if you live on, like, Pot Noodle. I have good food. Oven food. You know, that kind of high-calorie bullshit that you put in the oven that keeps you alive.”

“I eat plenty of oven meals,” Stan objects. “It’s just… easier to eat Pot Noodle for lunch, alright? Don’t insult Pot Noodle.”

“Alright, Mr fucking Noodle. Didn’t know the two of you were that close.”

“I will go back to my fucking textbooks, Richie, and take my cookie dough with me.”

Richie gasps. “Heresy! We haven’t even made it to the scene with Hocus Pocus. You can’t leave yet!” He grabs Stan’s arm, not tight enough to hurt but enough to be very noticeable, and Stan turns, surprised; most people give Stan so much leeway that coming into contact with him would be unimaginable, and his stomach swirls in a way he’s not entirely sure he understands. “Come on. You gotta take a break, right? And why not take a break with me, the hot, handsome, and very personable Richie Tozier?”

“Because you’re an asshole,” Stan mutters, and Richie laughs, elbowing him before turning back to the screen.

Stan’s not sure that this is necessarily his kind of film (he’s a slow-paced independent film or Wes Anderson boy himself), but he hasn’t actually seen a film in ages: he’s been too busy moving in and packing and unpacking and trying to sort out his furniture and the paperwork and his college stuff, and so just the act of relaxing on the sofa with a slice of deep pan pizza is somehow almost cathartic. He doesn’t have to think, or read, or even really focus too hard - and it’s just like the party, where he let the world slide by him and did nothing but dance, not caring just how bad he looked in front of his stupid new neighbour.

Maybe Richie Tozier deserves a tiny bit of credit, he supposes. Annoying, yes; helpful, somehow also yes.

Much to Richie’s irritance, Stan falls asleep for the very last act, waking up just in time to save his cookie dough and for Richie to switch to an episode of the so-fabled Brooklyn 99. Shamelessly, Richie dives his spoon in and proceeds to eat Stan’s ice cream anyway, but Stan doesn’t mind so much; he feels well-rested this time, better than he did this morning, better than he would’ve with a Starbucks coffee and a too-hard toastie.

“So, are you gonna go back and study after this?” Richie asks, screwing up his face as the ice cream hits his brain slightly too fast. “Ow. Fuck.”

Stan holds in a laugh. “Yeah.”

“What kind of degree’s worth this much studying, huh?” Richie jabs Stan’s arm. “Let me guess. You’re doing a bachelor’s degree in Fucking Boring Studies.” Stan laughs, shaking his head. “Shit, no way! I thought I had it fucking nailed. Wait, let me try again. Bachelor’s in Ignoring The Lovely And Handsome Richie?”

“If I were doing a degree in ignoring you, I’d be doing it badly,” Stan counters, and Richie nods sagely.

“Good point,” he says. “Just proves how great I am, doesn’t it?”

“No,” says Stan. “Mostly, I just want to punch you.”

The desire to punch Richie Tozier in the face, though, manifests in Stan leaning across the space in between them and placing his hands on Richie’s cheeks, grinning in a way that’s half-manic and also half appreciative of everything that Richie has done (possibly unknowingly, but does it matter?), and kissing him; Stan doesn’t know if the taste of chocolate chip is lingering in his mouth, or if it’s Richie, or if that’s something that’s even important anymore as his mind turns itself over and over.

Richie stares at him, wide-eyed, and Stan feels the remark coming like an electrical charge in the atmosphere. “I fucking knew I was irresistible.” He can’t stop himself, either, from laughing, and he shifts closer to Richie, leaning their shoulders together. “So, you know, you think you might come over for lunch break again tomorrow? Since you don’t have to study all day…”

Stan laughs and shakes his head. “I’ll be here again tomorrow, but who said I wasn’t going to bring my books?”

Richie makes a face of shock, and because he can’t resist it, Stan kisses it, and feels a little more at home.

tagging my fave other stan fan @sunflowerstanley and @stanleyurisisalive and you said it was okay to tag you so i hope it is cause you’re awesome @wyattghouleff

[furmark6-blog]

Quick Vegan Enchiladas with Sweet Potato Sauce

A weeknight-friendly enchilada has to check a lot of boxes for me. You ready for the short list? Here we go. These enchiladas need to be knock-out delicious AND: easy to assemble, free from pre-cooking any components, a healthful alternative to all the heavy cheese versions out there, and, ideally, in the oven in less that ten minutes. That's the dream scenario. After some experimentation, I offer you these - quick, vegan enchiladas. 

They're tender enchiladas made with black beans, sweet potatoes, and a stealthy turmeric boost. There was also a focus on making a version that was plant-based and vegan (which is what you see here), but also easily adaptable. If you want to add a bit of feta to the filling here (if you're not vegan, of course) then go for it. It's a recipe that should be able to accommodate much of what you might dream of rolling into a tortilla and baking until bubbly and golden.

This recipe is similar in spirit to the Last Minute Lasagna a bunch of you have been making. In fact, I started working on both of those around the same time, so if you like one of them, give the other a try as well.

Variations

A couple of notes, I wrote the recipe calling for canned winter squash - anything like pumpkin, sweet potato, or another winter squash will work. Whatever you and your family tends to like. I stumbled on a canned butternut squash during a spin through Trader Joe's, a while back, stocked up, and that is what you see pictured here. You can, of course, use squash you've roasted at home in place of canned - it just makes the process less quick ;)...

browse more:

bean Recipes

turmeric Recipes

Vegan Recipes

Quick Vegan Enchiladas with Sweet Potato Sauce

PRINT RECIPE

4.25 from 12 votes

A couple of tips - you want to use flexible, pliable tortillas, at room temperature or warmer. If you're tortillas are on the stiff side, place them in a baking dish, covered, in a warm oven for a few minutes to soften up. Or if you have a microwave, give them a quick hit. Play around with fillings here - a small amount of crumbled feta (if you're not vegan), or plant-based equivalent, added along with the black beans adds a nice creamy component to the filling, a nice accent without needing to be the main event. ;)

Ingredients

1 tablespoon extra virgin olive oil

1 15- ounce can sweet potato puree, butternut squash puree, or pumpkin puree

1/2 teaspoon turmeric powder

2 medium cloves garlic, grated on microplane

1 tablespoon taco seasoning

3/4 teaspoon fine grain sea salt

1 lemon, zest and juice

8 corn tortillas (6-inch), room temperature or warm

1 15- ounce can black beans, drained and rinsed

1/3 cup chopped black olives

1/3 cup tahini

1/2 cup sliced almonds

1 1/2 cups chopped cilantro leaves

to serve (optional): oven-roasted tomatoes, serrano vinegar & chiles*, a favorite salsa, etc.

Instructions

Preheat oven to 425F.  

Make the Filling

In a large mixing bowl combine the olive oil, sweet potato puree, turmeric, half of the grated garlic, taco seasoning, salt, zest of the lemon, and 1 1/2 cups of water. Stir well.

Assemble the Enchiladas

Ladle a cup of the sweet potato mixture into the bottom of an 8 x 12-inch (or larger) baking dish, or equivalent. Lay the tortillas on a work surface, and divide the black beans equally between them, sprinkle equally with olives. Roll up tortillas, and place seam side down in baking dish. Pour the remaining sauce on top (it will thicken). 

Bake and Make Sauce

Bake the enchiladas for 30-35 minutes, or so. Half way through, sprinkle with sliced almonds, and finish baking - until golden and bubbling. While the enchiladas are baking, thin the tahini with 1/4 cup warm water. Whisk in the remaining garlic, a pinch of salt, and squeeze of lemon juice. Top the enchiladas with dollops of the tahini sauce, and the fresh cilantro when they come out of the oven. Serve hot!

Notes

*Serrano Chile Vinegar & Chiles: Combine 8 serrano chiles, sliced 1/8th-inch thick with 2 cups white vinegar in a Mason jar, and refrigerate. Use the chiles w/in a week or two. You can use the vinegar for weeks after that in dressings, etc.

Serves

6

Prep Time

10 mins

Cook Time

30 mins

Total Time

40 mins

  PRINT RECIPE

nutrition info nutrition info

December 11, 2018 permalink icon

Per Serving: Calories 426

Total Fat 17g

Saturated Fat 2g

Cholesterol 0mg

Carbohydrates 55g

Sodium 491mg

Fiber 13g

Sugars 5g

Protein 15g

instagram icon

If you make this recipe, I'd love to see it - tag it #101cookbooks on Instagram!

Share this...

Pinterest

0Facebook

130

Google+

0email

WEEKNIGHT EXPRESS features 10 Vegetarian, Plant-centric Recipes for Feel-Good Food — Fast!

Subscribe to get 32-pages of recipes to view on your tablet, e-book reader or phone.

Follow Me:

Instagram

Youtube

Facebook

Pinterest

Related Recipes

Last Minute Red Lasagna

Everyone needs a go-to lasagna recipe. A great one. This is a true weeknight lasagna. No pre-cooking sauces, no pre-cooking noodles. You, literally, stir the first five ingredients together into a vibrant crushed tomato sauce, and start layering.

The Ultimate Vegan Nachos

Oozy, cheesy, loaded vegan nachos everyone loves. When you need a nacho fix, this is how you should roll. At least once. Nachos are always a crowd pleaser, and this is no exception.

Instant Pot Mushroom Stroganoff with Vodka

Make this stroganoff your dinner tonight, seriously! Made with caraway-spiked vodka, and a hearty mushroom base, you get all of what you love about mushroom stroganoff, without the all the butter and cream.

Fourth of July Roasted Tomato Salsa

A deliciously vibrant, earthy, and slightly smoky-tasting salsa recipe. Different from salsa fresca, the deep, caramelized flavors of the roasted tomatoes and onions alongside the smokiness of the chipotles make for a richly beautiful and balanced salsa.

More Recipes

Whole Grain

WFPB

Vegetarian

Vegan

Soups

Side Dishes

Sandwiches

Salads

Pasta

Quick

Main Course

Low Carb

Instant Pot

Holiday

High Protein

Gluten Free

Drinks

Dinner Ideas

Desserts

Cookies

Chocolate

Breakfast

Baking

Appetizers

Follow Me:

Instagram

Youtube

Facebook

Pinterest

Popular Ingredients

avocado

egg

herb

kale

lemon

lentil

quinoa

pasta

tomato

turmeric

yogurt

zucchini

arugula

asparagus

basil

broccoli

buttermilk

cauliflower

chickpea

chocolate

curry

tempeh

tofu

ALL

© 101 Cookbooks 2018

Use of this site constitutes acceptance of its User Agreement and Privacy Policy.

Source: https://www.101cookbooks.com/quick-vegan-enchiladas/

[fifthnerve6-blog]

Quick Vegan Enchiladas with Sweet Potato Sauce

A weeknight-friendly enchilada has to check a lot of boxes for me. You ready for the short list? Here we go. These enchiladas need to be knock-out delicious AND: easy to assemble, free from pre-cooking any components, a healthful alternative to all the heavy cheese versions out there, and, ideally, in the oven in less that ten minutes. That's the dream scenario. After some experimentation, I offer you these - quick, vegan enchiladas. 

They're tender enchiladas made with black beans, sweet potatoes, and a stealthy turmeric boost. There was also a focus on making a version that was plant-based and vegan (which is what you see here), but also easily adaptable. If you want to add a bit of feta to the filling here (if you're not vegan, of course) then go for it. It's a recipe that should be able to accommodate much of what you might dream of rolling into a tortilla and baking until bubbly and golden.

This recipe is similar in spirit to the Last Minute Lasagna a bunch of you have been making. In fact, I started working on both of those around the same time, so if you like one of them, give the other a try as well.

Variations

A couple of notes, I wrote the recipe calling for canned winter squash - anything like pumpkin, sweet potato, or another winter squash will work. Whatever you and your family tends to like. I stumbled on a canned butternut squash during a spin through Trader Joe's, a while back, stocked up, and that is what you see pictured here. You can, of course, use squash you've roasted at home in place of canned - it just makes the process less quick ;)...

browse more:

bean Recipes

turmeric Recipes

Vegan Recipes

Quick Vegan Enchiladas with Sweet Potato Sauce

PRINT RECIPE

4.25 from 12 votes

A couple of tips - you want to use flexible, pliable tortillas, at room temperature or warmer. If you're tortillas are on the stiff side, place them in a baking dish, covered, in a warm oven for a few minutes to soften up. Or if you have a microwave, give them a quick hit. Play around with fillings here - a small amount of crumbled feta (if you're not vegan), or plant-based equivalent, added along with the black beans adds a nice creamy component to the filling, a nice accent without needing to be the main event. ;)

Ingredients

1 tablespoon extra virgin olive oil

1 15- ounce can sweet potato puree, butternut squash puree, or pumpkin puree

1/2 teaspoon turmeric powder

2 medium cloves garlic, grated on microplane

1 tablespoon taco seasoning

3/4 teaspoon fine grain sea salt

1 lemon, zest and juice

8 corn tortillas (6-inch), room temperature or warm

1 15- ounce can black beans, drained and rinsed

1/3 cup chopped black olives

1/3 cup tahini

1/2 cup sliced almonds

1 1/2 cups chopped cilantro leaves

to serve (optional): oven-roasted tomatoes, serrano vinegar & chiles*, a favorite salsa, etc.

Instructions

Preheat oven to 425F.  

Make the Filling

In a large mixing bowl combine the olive oil, sweet potato puree, turmeric, half of the grated garlic, taco seasoning, salt, zest of the lemon, and 1 1/2 cups of water. Stir well.

Assemble the Enchiladas

Ladle a cup of the sweet potato mixture into the bottom of an 8 x 12-inch (or larger) baking dish, or equivalent. Lay the tortillas on a work surface, and divide the black beans equally between them, sprinkle equally with olives. Roll up tortillas, and place seam side down in baking dish. Pour the remaining sauce on top (it will thicken). 

Bake and Make Sauce

Bake the enchiladas for 30-35 minutes, or so. Half way through, sprinkle with sliced almonds, and finish baking - until golden and bubbling. While the enchiladas are baking, thin the tahini with 1/4 cup warm water. Whisk in the remaining garlic, a pinch of salt, and squeeze of lemon juice. Top the enchiladas with dollops of the tahini sauce, and the fresh cilantro when they come out of the oven. Serve hot!

Notes

*Serrano Chile Vinegar & Chiles: Combine 8 serrano chiles, sliced 1/8th-inch thick with 2 cups white vinegar in a Mason jar, and refrigerate. Use the chiles w/in a week or two. You can use the vinegar for weeks after that in dressings, etc.

Serves

6

Prep Time

10 mins

Cook Time

30 mins

Total Time

40 mins

  PRINT RECIPE

nutrition info nutrition info

December 11, 2018 permalink icon

Per Serving: Calories 426

Total Fat 17g

Saturated Fat 2g

Cholesterol 0mg

Carbohydrates 55g

Sodium 491mg

Fiber 13g

Sugars 5g

Protein 15g

instagram icon

If you make this recipe, I'd love to see it - tag it #101cookbooks on Instagram!

Share this...

Pinterest

0Facebook

130

Google+

0email

WEEKNIGHT EXPRESS features 10 Vegetarian, Plant-centric Recipes for Feel-Good Food — Fast!

Subscribe to get 32-pages of recipes to view on your tablet, e-book reader or phone.

Follow Me:

Instagram

Youtube

Facebook

Pinterest

Related Recipes

Last Minute Red Lasagna

Everyone needs a go-to lasagna recipe. A great one. This is a true weeknight lasagna. No pre-cooking sauces, no pre-cooking noodles. You, literally, stir the first five ingredients together into a vibrant crushed tomato sauce, and start layering.

The Ultimate Vegan Nachos

Oozy, cheesy, loaded vegan nachos everyone loves. When you need a nacho fix, this is how you should roll. At least once. Nachos are always a crowd pleaser, and this is no exception.

Instant Pot Mushroom Stroganoff with Vodka

Make this stroganoff your dinner tonight, seriously! Made with caraway-spiked vodka, and a hearty mushroom base, you get all of what you love about mushroom stroganoff, without the all the butter and cream.

Fourth of July Roasted Tomato Salsa

A deliciously vibrant, earthy, and slightly smoky-tasting salsa recipe. Different from salsa fresca, the deep, caramelized flavors of the roasted tomatoes and onions alongside the smokiness of the chipotles make for a richly beautiful and balanced salsa.

More Recipes

Whole Grain

WFPB

Vegetarian

Vegan

Soups

Side Dishes

Sandwiches

Salads

Pasta

Quick

Main Course

Low Carb

Instant Pot

Holiday

High Protein

Gluten Free

Drinks

Dinner Ideas

Desserts

Cookies

Chocolate

Breakfast

Baking

Appetizers

Follow Me:

Instagram

Youtube

Facebook

Pinterest

Popular Ingredients

avocado

egg

herb

kale

lemon

lentil

quinoa

pasta

tomato

turmeric

yogurt

zucchini

arugula

asparagus

basil

broccoli

buttermilk

cauliflower

chickpea

chocolate

curry

tempeh

tofu

ALL

© 101 Cookbooks 2018

Use of this site constitutes acceptance of its User Agreement and Privacy Policy.

Source: https://www.101cookbooks.com/quick-vegan-enchiladas/

[headspacedad]

let’s talk about

all right, thanks to an earlier post, I really feel the need to expand a little bit on the ‘Shiro is a menace in the kitchen’ theory.  Now according to an official piece of art, he apparently has a tendency to burn food he tries to cook and @bosstoaster has come up with a lot of really enjoyable headcanon about that and what a general mess he is when it comes to mealtime if left on his own.  I’d like to throw in my own theory here.

Now let’s start with the fact Shiro is intelligent.  Obviously.  Piloting a ship of any kind is more than just knowing how to nudge a stick (or spin a wheel) and he’s the best pilot in generations.  I’m also going to hazard that he knows how to follow instructions, much more detailed ones that the ones that are usually on the back of a box of cake mix or the side of a plastic cup of instant mac and cheese.  And yet, he obviously fails in the kitchen area (and fandom, which I enjoy, has him failing pretty spectacularly on pretty simple things).  Let’s go with two reasons, that I head canon, he might.

1.  He will eat anything put in front of him.  Have you ever watched someone who was/is in the military literally inhale their meal?  They can pretty much down a full course in five minutes or less.  I’m sure they still manage to get a taste, and I know they must because I’ve heard plenty of opinions about MREs, but at the end of the day, nourishment is nourishment.  So my first point is - Shiro isn’t picky about what he eats.  Or what condition its in when he eats it.  Food’s a little burned - still good.  Expiration date on the can is last month - worth the shot.  Noodles taste like plastic because they’ve been in the box too long - still noodles.  Not to say he doesn’t appreciate when something tastes good, he probably certainly still does.  But he doesn’t need it to taste good to eat it.  Sadly, probably especially now, after his year in Galra captivity.  So his cooking can be shoddy and sloppy and its okay because he’s not there for the taste.  He’s not going to put a lot of effort into cooking most times and he’s certainly not going to put the effort into doing anything fancy when he does.

2.  He’s got other things he finds more important.  Because, for Shiro, food is food and not very high on his list of priorities, he distracts away from it easily.  Luckily, he probably inhales his food pretty fast anyway so that’s not as much of an issue as it could be and when he group eats there’s plenty to keep him at the table but when he’s cooking -

look, he can set the timer and then he’s got five? fifteen? twenty minutes of free time.  Free time he’s not going to spend in the kitchen staring at the wall.  He’s got projects to do, things to read, something to clean, a dozen other things he can think of to fill up that slot of empty time.  So he does.  And they’re more important to him than the food cooking and so he forgets about the food cooking and the next thing you know the toaster oven is on fire because he’s gotten distracted reading the latest article about engine propulsion streamlining.  Which he probably found when the site he was reading suggested it on the side of the article about new solar flares he was already reading.  Which he ended up reading because there was a link in the previous article about polar auroras he’d been reading before that.  Point is, the world is full of things that interest Shiro more than cooking, or food, and he will probably always tend to automatically focus on those.  Not really a problem beyond cold food if the toaster oven/microwave shuts off automatically - a bit more of a problem if its an oven that doesn’t.

Now I’m not saying, if he did put in effort, that he’d be much better at it than he currently is.  He’d probably still be bad.  But I am saying he’s probably worse than he needs to be if left unsupervised.  Basically - what I’m saying is Shiro probably has a box of baking soda next to his toaster oven/microwave/oven/whatever.  

[woundgrey39-blog]

Quick Vegan Enchiladas with Sweet Potato Sauce

A weeknight-friendly enchilada has to check a lot of boxes for me. You ready for the short list? Here we go. These enchiladas need to be knock-out delicious AND: easy to assemble, free from pre-cooking any components, a healthful alternative to all the heavy cheese versions out there, and, ideally, in the oven in less that ten minutes. That's the dream scenario. After some experimentation, I offer you these - quick, vegan enchiladas.  They're tender enchiladas made with black beans, sweet potatoes, and a stealthy turmeric boost. There was also a focus on making a version that was plant-based and vegan (which is what you see here), but also easily adaptable. If you want to add a bit of feta to the filling here (if you're not vegan, of course) then go for it. It's a recipe that should be able to accommodate much of what you might dream of rolling into a tortilla and baking until bubbly and golden. This recipe is similar in spirit to the Last Minute Lasagna a bunch of you have been making. In fact, I started working on both of those around the same time, so if you like one of them, give the other a try as well.

Variations

A couple of notes, I wrote the recipe calling for canned winter squash - anything like pumpkin, sweet potato, or another winter squash will work. Whatever you and your family tends to like. I stumbled on a canned butternut squash during a spin through Trader Joe's, a while back, stocked up, and that is what you see pictured here. You can, of course, use squash you've roasted at home in place of canned - it just makes the process less quick ;)...

browse more:

bean Recipes

turmeric Recipes

Vegan Recipes

Quick Vegan Enchiladas with Sweet Potato Sauce

PRINT RECIPE

4.25 from 12 votes

A couple of tips - you want to use flexible, pliable tortillas, at room temperature or warmer. If you're tortillas are on the stiff side, place them in a baking dish, covered, in a warm oven for a few minutes to soften up. Or if you have a microwave, give them a quick hit. Play around with fillings here - a small amount of crumbled feta (if you're not vegan), or plant-based equivalent, added along with the black beans adds a nice creamy component to the filling, a nice accent without needing to be the main event. ;)

Ingredients

1 tablespoon extra virgin olive oil

1 15- ounce can sweet potato puree, butternut squash puree, or pumpkin puree

1/2 teaspoon turmeric powder

2 medium cloves garlic, grated on microplane

1 tablespoon taco seasoning

3/4 teaspoon fine grain sea salt

1 lemon, zest and juice

8 corn tortillas (6-inch), room temperature or warm

1 15- ounce can black beans, drained and rinsed

1/3 cup chopped black olives

1/3 cup tahini

1/2 cup sliced almonds

1 1/2 cups chopped cilantro leaves

to serve (optional): oven-roasted tomatoes, serrano vinegar & chiles*, a favorite salsa, etc.

Instructions

Preheat oven to 425F.  

Make the Filling

In a large mixing bowl combine the olive oil, sweet potato puree, turmeric, half of the grated garlic, taco seasoning, salt, zest of the lemon, and 1 1/2 cups of water. Stir well.

Assemble the Enchiladas

Ladle a cup of the sweet potato mixture into the bottom of an 8 x 12-inch (or larger) baking dish, or equivalent. Lay the tortillas on a work surface, and divide the black beans equally between them, sprinkle equally with olives. Roll up tortillas, and place seam side down in baking dish. Pour the remaining sauce on top (it will thicken). 

Bake and Make Sauce

Bake the enchiladas for 30-35 minutes, or so. Half way through, sprinkle with sliced almonds, and finish baking - until golden and bubbling. While the enchiladas are baking, thin the tahini with 1/4 cup warm water. Whisk in the remaining garlic, a pinch of salt, and squeeze of lemon juice. Top the enchiladas with dollops of the tahini sauce, and the fresh cilantro when they come out of the oven. Serve hot!

Notes

*Serrano Chile Vinegar & Chiles: Combine 8 serrano chiles, sliced 1/8th-inch thick with 2 cups white vinegar in a Mason jar, and refrigerate. Use the chiles w/in a week or two. You can use the vinegar for weeks after that in dressings, etc.

Serves

6

Prep Time

10 mins

Cook Time

30 mins

Total Time

40 mins

  PRINT RECIPE

nutrition info nutrition info

December 11, 2018 permalink icon

Per Serving: Calories 426

Total Fat 17g

Saturated Fat 2g

Cholesterol 0mg

Carbohydrates 55g

Sodium 491mg

Fiber 13g

Sugars 5g

Protein 15g

instagram icon

If you make this recipe, I'd love to see it - tag it #101cookbooks on Instagram!

Share this...

Pinterest

0Facebook

130

Google+

0email

WEEKNIGHT EXPRESS features 10 Vegetarian, Plant-centric Recipes for Feel-Good Food — Fast!

Subscribe to get 32-pages of recipes to view on your tablet, e-book reader or phone.

Follow Me:

Instagram

Youtube

Facebook

Pinterest

Related Recipes

Last Minute Red Lasagna

Everyone needs a go-to lasagna recipe. A great one. This is a true weeknight lasagna. No pre-cooking sauces, no pre-cooking noodles. You, literally, stir the first five ingredients together into a vibrant crushed tomato sauce, and start layering.

The Ultimate Vegan Nachos

Oozy, cheesy, loaded vegan nachos everyone loves. When you need a nacho fix, this is how you should roll. At least once. Nachos are always a crowd pleaser, and this is no exception.

Instant Pot Mushroom Stroganoff with Vodka

Make this stroganoff your dinner tonight, seriously! Made with caraway-spiked vodka, and a hearty mushroom base, you get all of what you love about mushroom stroganoff, without the all the butter and cream.

Fourth of July Roasted Tomato Salsa

A deliciously vibrant, earthy, and slightly smoky-tasting salsa recipe. Different from salsa fresca, the deep, caramelized flavors of the roasted tomatoes and onions alongside the smokiness of the chipotles make for a richly beautiful and balanced salsa.

More Recipes

Whole Grain

WFPB

Vegetarian

Vegan

Soups

Side Dishes

Sandwiches

Salads

Pasta

Quick

Main Course

Low Carb

Instant Pot

Holiday

High Protein

Gluten Free

Drinks

Dinner Ideas

Desserts

Cookies

Chocolate

Breakfast

Baking

Appetizers

Follow Me:

Instagram

Youtube

Facebook

Pinterest

Popular Ingredients

avocado

egg

herb

kale

lemon

lentil

quinoa

pasta

tomato

turmeric

yogurt

zucchini

arugula

asparagus

basil

broccoli

buttermilk

cauliflower

chickpea

chocolate

curry

tempeh

tofu

ALL

© 101 Cookbooks 2018

Use of this site constitutes acceptance of its User Agreement and Privacy Policy.

Source: https://www.101cookbooks.com/quick-vegan-enchiladas/