#tortillas grandes

[tortillasrosario]

Embracing Size and Tradition: The Rise of Tortillas Grandes in Phoenix

Phoenix, the sprawling capital of Arizona, is a culinary paradise celebrating a rich tapestry of flavors. The city is a vibrant showcase of gastronomic diversity, but one tradition stands tall — the love for tortillas. In recent times, the city has witnessed an exciting trend: the growing popularity of tortillas grandes. Read More - https://tortillasrosario.blogspot.com/2023/06/embracing-size-and-tradition-the-rise-of-tortillas-grandes-in-phoenix.html

[hockeytown-gifs]

Tortilla Challenge! 3  Dogg -  Detroit Red Wings  -  October  2022

[diamondnokouzai]

$70 grocery bill...im never buying toilet paper again

[randomitemdrop]

what can i get for $10?

Oh! Uh. Due to clerical error you somehow got the world's most expensive taco, a novelty item at Grand Velas Los Cabos Resort in Mexico consisting of a corn tortilla filled with Kobe beef, shrimp, beluga caviar, black truffle, brie, mortia chilis, civet coffee, and gold flakes, normally valued at $25,000. Not sure how that happened, hurry up and get out of here before Chef Licerio-Alcala catches on

[gardenianoire]

friends and romans I severely underestimated how much food I would need over a two week period so now I'm left with half a bag tortilla chips and a few popsicles after making groceries last week when I got paid. food is insanely expensive and the state of louisiana has denied my application for ebt (formally know as food stamps) so 🙃 it's not grand I had to spend most of my check on rent plus a late fee and $100 used to get you roughly two weeks of food but now not so much idk

cashapp: $jocedun94

paypal: xandra.l.duncan@gmail.com

my goal is $100

[the-californicationist]

Excerpt from Gunslinger - "Appaloosa"

OMG!! I commissioned this artwork from the incredible @captain-natey who RETURNED TO ME WITH THIS MASTERPIECE!!!! I just wanted to plug their work (their commissions are OPEN! visit their website here!!) and I wanted to post the chapter excerpt from "Gunslinger" (Price/Reader) that it belongs to. Hope you enjoy! Please go show Nate some love! Thanks for reading. TW: reference to past domestic abuse, Reader has call sign and speaks Spanish

Price sat beside you and pulled your chair closer to his, looping an arm around the back of it,

“Look, love, you don’t have to do anything you don’t -”

“Capitán! Quit whispering your sugary words into her ear. This is the woman who survived Miguel ‘El Matador’ Moreno for diez pinche años. She may look like a little lady, but she’s done nastier work than all four of you perritos combined. She is the reason why the infamous Jefe Luis Villagomez doesn’t travel north of the Rio Grande. Charon doesn’t ferry the living very often, amigos. She only takes the dead. Porfa,” Alejandro waved a hand in the air dismissively, unamused by Price’s coddling tones. 

Ale may have been embellishing a bit, but he wasn’t wrong. You didn’t need your hand to be held.

“I can’t leave the animals,” you said, checking to see how far these men had thought this plan through. 

“Laswell called Tony, and he’ll be here Wednesday,” Gaz told you. 

Tony had watched the ranch for you once before. He was a sharp-witted veteran that had run his own ranch for decades, so you felt good about leaving the farm to him. Tony could take care of himself. He did tend to spoil the goats, but there were worse things. 

“How long?” Your question hung in the air like a balloon losing its air, floating, surrounded by silence. 

Vargas and Price shared a look. Price repositioned himself in his chair, not thrilled about having to answer you,

“Not sure, love. Is that alright?” 

It was a test. What were you willing to sacrifice for this man and his makeshift band of brothers? Your peace? You’d fought so damn hard for that peace. You’d survived a devil of a man in order to sleep warm and safe and knowing you could take care of your damn business unaided. After giving up years of your life to unrest and fear, your reward had been the reconstruction of your independence. Price was asking you for your hard-fought freedom. You weren’t ready to give that up. You weren’t ready for sleeping on floors and reloading guns. You weren’t ready to face more devil-men. 

But what else could you do? Price had you, threatening your heart. If you woke up tomorrow to his empty bed, you didn’t know if you could take that pain. You imagined that Kahlo’s Wounded Deer felt much the same; shot through the chest with nowhere to run, stuck between the cliff’s edge and your lover - your hunter - both promising suffering in different ways. No escape. 

The captain studied you like a heeler dog studied its herd, watching for even the slightest movement to strike, to react. He witnessed the fear flash in your face, and in turn, you saw the despair shadow his. It was so slight, that change in his expression, but to you, it was like he was screaming. You, too, were screaming. 

“Okay, but just for this mission. Then, I need to get back to my life,” you decided, making your limitations known, quietly but firmly. 

The relief that washed through Price’s eyes was palpable. 

Vargas served dinner in his chaotic way, family style, sharing plates. Everyone was eating with their hands, cradling the homemade tortillas like little flowers, using them to scoop up meat and sauce that dripped down their palms like nectar, spicy and sweet. 

Ghost didn’t take his food into the other room this time, feeling secure enough to flip up the mouth of his painted mask to eat. It was like seeing him naked; he was always covered up, so any skin was somehow too much. Soap crowded Ghost from his corner of the table, trying to steal more asada, laughing and joking with Ale. Gaz and Price were huddled, murmuring about something, talking with full mouths in low tones. 

It was almost too serene. There were times in life where you understood that you were in a moment you could never return to. You may have similar ones in your future, but somehow, you knew when certain wrinkles in time were singular. As you watched your guests, you knew that this was definitely one of those moments. 

Price had his arm draped across your chair, keeping you near him. You crafted a bite for him in your hand, pinching the soft tortilla until it held the perfect amount of Ale’s asada. 

You nudged Price with your free hand,

“Toma, come esto, papi.” Here, have a bite, daddy.

He turned away from Gaz and found you there, his bite of food in your hands, and his face lit up like a flame. Bending his head down to meet your hand, he grabbed your wrist in his huge fist, trapping your arm. Then, slowly, he put his mouth around the morsel, lips touching the pads of your fingers, tongue licking the sauce from them. 

Vargas watched your interaction from the other side of the table, open-mouthed. Soap smacked him on the shoulder as if to cash in a bet.

“No, animales! Not at the table!”

The men shared a lighthearted groan and laughed good-naturedly, giving you and their captain a hard time about your little display of affection. 

You smirked, feeling accomplished. Price had wanted to tell them, so you thought a dropped hint or two would be alright. To your relief, he laughed with them, chewing his food before making a comment,

“Sabe buena.” Tastes good. His voice, still badly accented, was mirthful and suggestive, dragging out another round of playful jeering. 

Then, to your surprise, the captain pulled your chair back away from the table, leaning it on its rear legs, holding it at an angle, and kissed you deeply. You let out a little cry of shock, silenced by his mouth. But, you recovered, kissing him back, wrapping one hand around his jaw and the other running through his hair. 

It was all in good fun. Normal. Just a couple flirting with each other, but for Price, you could tell it meant more. It was one thing to bare your souls to each other in front of the farm animals, or to sneak off and rediscover original sins in the quiet of your room, but it was something else to show the world that you chose him. To show his men that you were committed to their captain. That you weren’t just a rest-stop on their long journey. You got the sense that by committing to him, you were also committing to them: his family. 

The rest of the meal passed in that same warmth, filled with laughter and jokes, stories and questions about each other. Intimacy. The whole time, Price couldn’t keep his hands off of you. Your thigh, your hand, the nape of your neck - he was grabbing you like a lifeline. He shared his food, making you try his chili relleno, giving you sips of his drink when yours ran dry, doting on you. 

“Okay, time for dessert, yes?” You asked the others, picking up dirty dishes as you retreated back to the kitchen. 

You heard exasperated groaning, their bellies full and struggling, but you didn’t hear a no. Vargas followed you into the kitchen, pretending to help,

“Dios mío, necesito un cigarrillo después de verlos a ustedes.” My God, I need a cigarette after watching you two. 

“Cállate, cerdito.” Shut up, piglet. You smiled to yourself, cutting up what was left of the cheesecake, giving Price’s plate the largest piece. 

“¿Estas enamorado, morena?” Are you in love, darling? His voice was a quiet whisper. It felt like a gunshot wound in your chest. 

“I don’t know,” you said, in English, not trusting yourself to tell such a lie in your native tongue. 

Your old friend covered his mouth with his hand, eyebrows heading skyward, giving you an obvious look. He replied in English, understanding the secret you’d been trying to conceal,

“You know better, Charon. We are not men who should be loved. I hope you know what you’re doing, mija. ”

You didn’t reply out loud, but on the inside, you heard yourself say, “Me, too.”

Even though they lived in the shadows, you weren’t sold on the idea that they should be priests for their causes. Men like Price typically followed two paths. The love of a woman, if she becomes his family, could break his heart, making him forget his purpose, distracting him from his quest for justice. Or, she would light a fire in him, turning him into a dragon. You were afraid to find out which path he would choose.

You wondered if he loved you. 

You delivered the cake and poured more tequila into all the little cups that were thirsty for it. 

John was rolling a cigar in his fingers absentmindedly, and you could tell he was aching to smoke it. 

“You wanna come outside with me, love?” Price invited you, rubbing your thighs in big, sweeping strokes, making your blood rush through them, somehow knowing what you wanted. 

Everyone else was chatting, or watching Gaz play that video game of his, backseat driving, telling him where to hide and who to shoot. Which gun to use. You slipped out onto the porch with Price, avoiding any more ribbing. 

You stood against the porch railing, facing the yard, staring out at the darkness of the night, the rain finally dying out to a drizzle, casting little blue galaxies in the flooded grass, reflecting the light from a huge moon. Price stood directly behind you, pressed against your body, wrapping one hand around the railing, closing you in. He held his cigar in the other hand, smoking it in circles, trying to make the ashes burn evenly. 

“You surprised me at dinner,” he commented, obviously looking for a response. 

You feigned ignorance,

“Oh, why?”

“Feeding me by hand like that. Can’t be doing that in public. Makes me go a bit hard, love.” His voice was right next to your ear, gravelly and delightfully threatening. 

You smiled sweetly, your words coated in pretend innocence, playing with him,

“What do you mean? I just wanted you to have a bite. One little bite can’t hurt, can it, John?” 

“It’s bloody mental, the way you make me feel,” he took a long drag from his cigar and let the smoke tumble out as he spoke, leaning over you, “I’d fuck you right here, pretty girl, given half a chance.”

He took a deep breath along the side of your neck, smelling your skin beneath your hair, and when he exhaled, a moan was wrapped quietly inside it.

You pressed your ass into his crotch, finding him nearly hard. Touching his hand gently, you took his cigar and stuck it in your mouth, the wet leaves tasting like him. You curled the smoke with your tongue, locking eyes with him over your shoulder, watching him suffer deliciously,

“I dunno about ‘mental’, John. But it seems like you have an oral fixation.

You punctuated your last two words, saying them with a soft, sultry undertone. His eyes narrowed as he smiled down at you in a sinister grin,

“Do I ever.”

He stole the stick back from you and smiled even wider, teeth gleaming, his incisors seeming like fangs in his wolfy smile. 

“Think they’re watching us?” You let your eyes turn over to the window, covered with a sheer curtain, fully aware that the view outside was more visible than your view into the house. Trick of the light. 

He shrugged,

“Not if they know what’s good for them.”

Price’s cock had fully hardened now, and he thrust it up into your body ever so slightly, rubbing himself through layers of clothes, rocking his hips once and then twice like a promise of things to come. It made you feel a deep, primal lust, understanding his need without his words, your bodies engaging in an ancient art that had remained untainted by eons of time. You returned his invitation, rolling your hips back onto him, your ass pressing soundly into his pinned shaft. 

“We should get some sleep. Early start tomorrow. It’s five hours to El Ojo,” Price groaned, whispering, rutting against you mindlessly, burying his face in your hair, staining your scent with his smoke. 

You turned around to face him; he didn’t stop his idle grinding, looking tranquilized by his heady tobacco. Hypnotizing you with his casual eroticism. 

“You don’t seem sleepy,” you commented, letting your hands roam over his chest and belly, tracing his nipples beneath his smooth shirt. He shuddered at your touch, sighing deeply. 

With his cigar perched carefully between his fingers, he grabbed your jawbone, and you could feel the wet end press into your cheek. You could sense the warmth of the ash on your skin. He began to kiss you, all of the smoke and musky scents of him blended together, and his strong, masculine cologne made your head spin. His kisses were controlling and long, moving your head where he wanted it to be, sucking your lips and tongue, keeping them from exploring on their own. He was the guide for your passion, showing you all the ways he would be able to please.

He broke away, but only far enough to keep your lips from touching, his breath hot as it warmed your mouth when he spoke,

“Early. Tomorrow. We have to get up early. We should sleep.”

“Okay,” you sighed, a little dramatically, easing past his grip, removing yourself from him, untangling his vines from your bones, “if you say so, John. Buenas noches.” 

You walked inside, swaying your hips a little more than you needed to, knowing he was looking, his blue eyes burning into your curves. Just before you went through the door, you glanced over at him. In the darkness of the porch, cast in shadow, the smoldering tip of his cigar glowed in his open mouth, the light from it gleaming off of his teeth and coloring his lips and beard a fiery orange. He was grinning, like a fox in a henhouse. When he saw you looking, he made a small show of readjusting himself, pawing at his swollen rod to release it from where it was trapped, and in the dimness, you could see its threatening outline. 

You shut the door behind you, hands shaking. The other men mostly ignored you, but you caught them glancing your way, trying to sneak looks. Soap was not as sneaky as the rest, staring blankly as if he had a secret he shouldn't have.

As you wished them good night, they returned the sentiment casually, but it was then that you noticed the window. Price was still at the railing - in full, clear view, smoking. Blood rushed to your cheeks, and you could feel the flush tingle against your skin with embarrassment. 

An hour or so later, you were already asleep when Price came upstairs. His heavy footsteps pulled you from your slumber. He was pacing in his room, packing perhaps. You went to the bathroom and pulled open the door. Upon hearing you, he opened his as well.

“Hey,” you whispered, squinting from sleep. 

“Hey,” he was breathing heavily, dressed in nothing but the jeans and boots he had worn that day. 

The captain watched as your eyes feasted upon his skin, gazing longingly at his thick waist where his pants were slung low on his hips, showing off just a bit of hair from below his belt line. One of his giant hands gripped the door frame, high on the plank, stretching his chest into a sweeping display of muscle. His armpit, arms, and torso were covered in the thick, dark hair you had let your hands roam across last night during your joining, and you knew how it would feel to touch. 

Price slid his hand down the frame, making a slow scraping noise, stepping fully into the bathroom, shutting the door behind him with a click, his icy eyes never leaving yours. 

He was enormous in the small space. His body was a powerhouse of visible strength. The meat of him hung heavy on his large bones, and he seemed, in the clean white tile of the bathroom, as if he was a specimen in some sort of display. Some museum exhibit, showing off, in sterile composition, the ideal form of Man. Built to fuck, to kill, to dominate the beasts of Eden from the lamb to the lion. Top of the food chain. 

Still a little shy from realizing you’d given his team quite the show earlier on the porch, you averted your gaze, turning toward the sink. Before you could run the water, he was behind you, quick, crowding your space exactly as he had on the porch.

He positioned himself behind you and, much more luridly this time, began to kiss and lick your neck, grinding himself into you as he did so, slipping a warm hand under your loose top, finding your soft flesh waiting for his touch. You could feel the roughness of his denim jeans through your cotton shorts, and the contrast between his soft, melting kiss and the hard, unforgiving feeling of him trying to fuck you through your clothes was too much to handle. Your body was trying to reconcile the two, splitting your thoughts, making you love-drunk on his ministrations. 

Price pulled off your shirt, raking it over your head, tossing it to the floor. He laced his hand through your hair and began to tug your head back, forcing you to look at yourself, bare to him, in the mirror. There was only the nightlight, more like a small Christmas bulb attached to a plug, so the room lacked any harsh contrast. Your bodies, your faces, the walls - everything began to swirl together, all colorized in the same, peachy glow. 

You felt his hands on your breasts, and you watched him touch you in the mirror. Seeing yourself being pulled and manipulated by such a large man was gratifying. His hands massaged into your softness, leaving warm trails on your skin, the tell-tale feeling of where he had touched and where he still had left to go. The captain saw himself in the mirror for the first time, then, looking up from leaving erotic kisses on your neck and shoulders. 

He sighed, locking eyes with you in the glass. That sigh trailed off into a groan, a ghost of the one he’d given you last night in the midst of his ecstasy. 

“Fucking hell, look at you,” he said in his lowest tone.

Suddenly, he was tugging at the button of his jeans and unzipping the fly, freeing himself and stroking his cock to attention using your plump ass. Through your flimsy shorts, you could feel the burning heat that radiated from him. Reaching behind you, his hardness fell into your palm and you watched the sensation crawl its way through his expression in the reflection. He gasped, resting his head against yours, whispering - yes, yes, yes - into your ear in a hiss through clenched teeth. 

John’s hand found your pantyline and pried it away from your skin with a confident finger, traveling down into your folds, searching for the swelling bundle nestled in the crest of your slit, rubbing it in long, loose ovals.

It wasn’t feverish; it was measured. His was the hand of a practiced man. As he worked, you joined him, rolling your wrist to rub his foreskin up and down in achingly long pulls, letting his wet head graze your skin as you teased him. The thick length was drooling with precome, and you could feel its stickiness on your palm. 

It didn’t take him long to find your particular rhythm, the one you used when staring at Pinterest photos on your phone of Keanu Reeves in his John Wick era; sweaty, bloody, and great with a gun. Price’s movements felt personal, like he’d read about what you wanted in your diary somewhere, as if he was in on the secret. It brought you to the summit very quickly, and he noticed the flush in your cheeks and breasts, only then increasing his intensity. 

You tried to continue to stroke him, but as you began to come in Price’s hand, you could only hold onto his cock, grasping it like the handle in a car driving too fast, careening downhill, rushing to its inevitable crash. 

“Yeah, love, come for me. Just like that, you gorgeous fucking thing,” he watched you tumble over the edge, crumpling in the mirror, reaching for him. 

“John! Please,” you cried.

You felt the tension burst inside of you like a mortar, hot and molten, pouring out of your core and into your body in waves of climactic pleasure. No one had ever made you come that hard, that quickly. It was hard for you to stand. Price steadied you, using his talented hand to hold you to him while you remembered your legs. 

Once you regained your senses, you removed your hand from him to pull down your shorts and panties, letting them pool at the floor beneath your feet. You returned to his cock, now swollen and throbbing, and fed it into you. Your come made his entry smooth and slippery, and he filled you up, your body celebrating his return.

He returned to his slow, grinding dance on the porch, thrusting himself into you rhythmically in aching, rolling motions. It was not the slamming pugilism of two people trying to find release. This was a concerted effort for him to fuck your walls into his memory, rubbing his dick along them to sense every ridge and sweet spot, and to find the ones that made you scream. 

When you let slip a desperate moan, he would pause, reflect, and return, hitting it again and again, watching you writhe and begging for him to help you.

“You feel so good in me,” you admitted, talking to him in the looking-glass. 

His eyes were full of mismanaged control, and his grip on reality was slipping, 

“Bloody beautiful. So warm and wet for me. Goddamnit, I’m not gonna last.”

But, he did. Your beast had stamina. He returned to your clit as he thrust in and out of you, dragging his fat cock through your body, ripping two more orgasms from your lips before he surrendered. 

You watched him come, crying out darkly in his reflection. He had pulled himself from you and was painting your generous ass cheeks with his load. The tacky fluid was searingly hot, and it ran down your skin in drips. 

You smiled, bending back to kiss him,

“Messy boy,” you chided playfully, a naughty tone in your voice. 

“Wanna clean you up,” Price sighed, satisfied and spent.

Do you want 30 more chapters of these two? Read "Gunslinger" here.

Reblogs and comments deeply appreciated!

[shycroissanti]

a silly doodle of grand papahiro taking care of baby Yijin XD✨️

I must say that this is my alternative story to the Demon Slayer universe because in the canonical universe, Takahiro would never get to meet Yijin😔

This is the story where Kishin became Upper Moon 2 and the demons live more peacefully with the other characters^^

And then Takahiro can be considered Yijin's adoptive grandfather XD

Le tags💖

@c00kietin @larz-barz @knyinfinity @demonslayerdoodles @night-mince10000000000000000001 @scaredyfurry2 @pinkwisteria @giyubabe @pulim-v @nothingtoseehere1-2-3 @tor-the-tortilla @zenitsustherapist @ayunakatsukiwolfhashira @sunbrokenswords @kiyokatokito @rion-isnot-an-ai

[zealouscollectionvoid]

**Título: "El Viaje Gastronómico en la Casa Rodante"**

Había una vez un hombre llamado Carlos, un amante de la comida y las aventuras. Carlos decidió tomarse unas vacaciones diferentes: en lugar de alojarse en hoteles lujosos o playas paradisíacas, alquiló una casa rodante y se embarcó en un viaje gastronómico por todo el país.

Su primera parada fue en una pequeña hamburguesería en las afueras de la ciudad. El reto era simple: comer una docena de hamburguesas gigantes en menos de una hora. Carlos se relamió los labios y se zambulló en la montaña de carne, queso y pan. El sudor corría por su frente mientras masticaba y tragaba, pero no se rindió. Al final, con el estómago a punto de reventar, logró completar el desafío.

La siguiente parada fue en un pueblo famoso por su pastelería. Allí, Carlos se enfrentó a un pastel del tamaño de una rueda de carro. Las capas de chocolate, crema y frutas parecían interminables. Carlos se sentó frente al pastel y comenzó a cavar con su tenedor. Cada bocado era una explosión de dulzura en su boca. Al final, con las migas esparcidas por toda la mesa, Carlos se levantó victorioso.

El burrito gigante lo esperaba en un restaurante mexicano en el desierto. Carlos se envolvió en una manta para protegerse del calor abrasador y se enfrentó al monstruo de tortilla, carne, frijoles y guacamole. Cada mordisco era como una expedición a través de sabores intensos y picantes. Carlos sudaba y se reía mientras luchaba por terminar el burrito. Pero lo hizo, y se sintió como un auténtico luchador.

La pizza gigante estaba en una pizzería junto al mar. Carlos miró la enorme masa cubierta de queso derretido y toppings coloridos. Se sentó en la terraza con vista al océano y comenzó a devorar porciones del tamaño de su cabeza. El queso se estiraba entre sus dedos mientras masticaba con entusiasmo. Al final, con la barriga hinchada y una sonrisa en el rostro, Carlos se recostó en su silla.

Por último, el filete de carne grande lo llevó a una granja en las montañas. El chef asó un enorme corte de carne en una parrilla al aire libre. Carlos lo acompañó con papas asadas y verduras frescas. Cada bocado era tierno, jugoso y lleno de sabor. Carlos se sintió como un rey en su trono de carne.

Al final del viaje, Carlos regresó a casa con kilos de más y una sonrisa satisfecha. Su casa rodante estaba llena de recuerdos culinarios y muebles que crujían bajo su peso. Pero no se arrepentía. Después de todo, la vida es demasiado corta para no disfrutar de la comida al máximo.

[postoctobrist]

I've been listening to WTYP and Trash Future for close to two years now, thank you for your humour and very niche knowledge on things I have never heard of. The podcasts are always a delight thanks to your passion.

As I'm listening to the last WTYP, I think the mitraillette is Belgian, because they have another sandwich called the pistolet (means gun), though I only know of it because there's a humoristic belgian song called Patrouille de Nuit by Le Grand Jojo. It's about cops getting request for sandwiches from their colleagues back at the precinct. It's kinda stupid.

Fries in a sandwich are rare to my knowledge in France, except in like tacos, that is to say the "à la française" tacos which are a pile of meats with a cheese sauce in a tortilla that then gets panini-press'd, sometimes with fries in it as a variation.

did I not say it was Belgian? my bad if not

[chiquititamia]

HOLIIIIII Me da tremenda vergüenza pedir esto, so, momento anónimo (—🌻) Podría pedir algo que sea sobre juani? Estoy urgente de oneshots o cosas parecidas con él y no encuentro casi nada help En el que contenga un poco de angustia, ya que cuando juani muestra a su pareja en un stream hay una pequeña cantidad de gente que termina acosando a la lectora solo por andar con juani Espero que no sea una molestia, ¡y suerte con tus exámenes! —🌻

-¡Y bueno chicos, eso es todo! Un beso, chaaooo – Juani le tiró besos al móvil que le enfocaba desde el pequeño trípode de mesa. Después de eso dijo adiós con la mano y cortó la emisión de twitch.

Tú estabas tirada en el sofá intentando leer un libro, pero francamente no te concentrabas y tenías que pasar por el mismo párrafo varias veces para conseguir enterarte de algo.

Juani entró en la habitación frotándose los ojos, tanto rato delante de la pantalla y del foco de luz que usaba para iluminarse le terminaba cansando la vista.

-¿qué fue, neni, qué hacés? – se tumbó a tu lado acurrucándose y acariciándote el vientre por encima de la ropa.

-Nada, aquí esperando a que terminases…

Juani te mira con sus grandes ojos azules apoyando su cabeza llena de rizos en tu pecho.

-¿Me estabas esperando?

-Y sí, Juani, quería decirte hace un buen rato si querías que pidiésemos delivery porque tenemos la heladera vacía, pero se nos pasó ya la hora y todos los restaurantes están cerrados – habías intentado sonar menos enfadada de lo que realmente estabas, pero el hambre que sentías no hacía si no agriarte más el carácter. En realidad, no le estabas culpando por hacer el stream, ni por demorarse; en el fondo estabas molesta por algo que no querías decirle, pero que ya llevabas demasiado tiempo guardándote para ti misma.

-Él frunció el ceño con preocupación más que con enfado.

-¿Y no podías haberme preguntado antes de que eso pasase?

-¡Estabas en tu stream! - contestaste molesta olvidando que Juani no podía leerte la mente y no sabía por qué tus pensamientos estaban escalando hacia un lugar de enfado que no estaba siendo del todo racional.

-No sería la primera vez que apareces en un stream mío – se incorporó apoyándose en sus brazos para mirarte mejor a la cara – ¿se puede saber porqué estás tan enfadada, amor? Si el hambre es el problema estoy seguro de que te puedo preparar al menos un buen bowl de cereales o una tortilla…

La forma en la que Juani estaba intentando resolver la situación y pensando en soluciones te ablandó el corazón, era una de las cosas por las que te habías enamorado de él. Ahora te sentías culpable por haber saltado así y sobre todo por no haber sido sincera con él desde que te comenzaste a sentir mal.

-No es eso… - bajaste la mirada avergonzada.

-Pues decime que es, por que no quiero que estés mal, gorda… - al ver que estabas bajando el tono y te estabas relajando tomó tu mano entre las suyas y la besó.

-Es que la última vez que aparecí por tu stream no sabes la de gente que me escribió diciéndome de todo por Instagram…hasta encontraron mi Facebook, y eso que no está ni mi nombre real… y, no quiero que además te molesten conmigo, dicen que no soy tan guapa como para estar contigo y…

-¿Que qué? – en la mirada de Juani había fuego – no me puedo creer que te hayan dicho semejante pelotudez, ¿¡pero quién se creen que son?!

-Dale, Juani, pero es lo normal cuando alguien es público y yo se que no debería tomármelo así – antes de que pudieras continuar hablando tu novio te interrumpió.

-¡Que no, nena, que no! Vos sos lo más importante para mí, y si me quieren a mí te tienen que querer a ti – nunca habías visto a Juani tan furioso. Tenía que reconocer que ese impulso protector te estaba derritiendo por dentro – La próxima vez que haga stream vos te vas a sentar en mis piernas si te da la real gana, ¿ta?  Además, me jode que te lo hayas callado para no hacerme sentir mal, que te conozco… - se lamentó.

Tú le acariciaste la cara y le volviste a recostar sobre tu pecho para que ahora fuera él el que se tranquilizase. Pasando los dedos por sus rizos suaves no pudiste reprimir una sonrisa. La validación que no sabías que necesitabas te había quitado un peso de los hombros y ahora te sentías aliviada.

-Además, vos sos lo más bonito del mundo, ¿de qué están hablando? – murmuró aún contrariado.

-Está bien, amor…- seguiste dándole caricias.

Él sonrió y te dio un beso breve antes de levantarse de un salto.

-¿Querés también una fruta con tus cereales?

Bueno anon, espero que te haya gustado aunque sea un poquito solo, no estoy acostumbrada a escribir nada que no acabe en smut 🤣🤣. Y siento haber tardado tantísimo en responder, pero quería hacerlo cuando terminase los exámenes. Un abrazo!

[sambuchito]

Hola, buenas noches!

Cuando tengas tiempo, podrías hacer un post con tu receta de tacos? Es que se ven buenísimos y me gustaría probarlos. Gracias 🫂

obvio chicos, igual es todo a ojo y aviso que si algún mexicano me sigue ignoren este post lol

🍖 Carne: depende presupuesto que tenga, pero casi siempre los hago de - pollo (ni siquiera pechuga que está cara, pata muslo en promo) - carne (bola de lomo en tiritas o algún corte blando que se desmeche, así como para guiso viene bárbaro, el más barato)

A los dos primero los doro con mostaza, sal, pimienta y pimentón, (lo que más les guste) si tienen plata ese mes pónganle una birra que les guste al pollo si no así como viene, una cebolla a la mitad y laurel, o a la carne le meten vino y salsa de tomate, más agua que hasta tapar y le van agregando. Fuego lento y se olvidan. Hervido es menos complicado pero si no se cortan la carne bien fina fina, la doran en la sartén y le ponen un poco de agua para que no se seque (opcional salsa de soja y azúcar) y les queda el juguito para mojar Los caldos knorr su mejor aliado, pero ⚠ OJO con la sal porque la reducción final les queda más salada, no sean como yo vayan probando y de a poco. De última es mejor ponerle media cuchara y mucha agua

🥙 Acompañamientos: me guio así hoja, crocante, húmedo, pegamento

-verde: cebollita de verdeo, hoja de espinaca porque odio la lechuga o lechuga morada, rucula etc -crocante: cebollitas encurtidas fáciles de hacer y les duran una semana aprox papitas cortadas bien finas (ponen la papa cortada en el microondas unos minutos y se acelera la cocción) -húmedo: tomate no hay otra, tomate haters no me importan, últimamente tengo un frasco con morrones asados también cortado en tiras -pegamento: hummus (fácil garbanzo de lata, hielo, sal, limón y aceite) o mayo casera, si no les gusta está la lactonesa . Pongo primero el pegamento abajo para que no se desarme lol

🌮 Tortillas: como soy media pajera, uso las tapas de empanadas. No hay mucha diferencia entre marcas, lo que este de promo. Si quieren hacerlos tipo flauta compren las más grandes. Las tiran a la plancha bien caliente, sin aceite, vuelta y vuelta y las ponen sobre algo redondo para darles forma. Le ponen arriba perejil o cilantro y ta

Siganme para mas recetas!

[kittynannygaming]

In my area of the US it's a common thing for a comfort meal especially for children is grilled cheese/cheese toastys and tomatoe soup. Is it similar where you live or is there not really a country wide (I think) idea of a comfort food for kids? If there is do you like to eat it?

I actually like grilled cheese and tomatoe soup, I like dipping my sandwich in the soup like it's an edible spoon.

*Asks are sent for fun, no pressure to answer.

I'm from France and was raised by my maternal grand-parents.

In case of sickness, I had either:

1- "la soupe de petites pâtes" (beef broth, angel hair pasta and maybe an egg (not mandatory)

2- "la soupe de légumes maison" (mostly potatoes and carrots with turnip, leek, 1 onion, pumpkin or squash)

I don't know if there is a common comfort meal for children but that were mine. (We often joke though every time I made purée & ham, it's hospital food 😂)

My grandmother (she was Spanish) was an excellent cook and the dishes I loved the most were: tortilla de papas y cebolla, paella, couscous. I miss her 😢 but I try to cook her dishes from time to time.

(Pictures are not mine, it's just to show what it looks like)

I love grilled cheese but I'm not so fond of tomato soup. I'm not very fond of tomatoes except for pizza and sauce and such. I could have a croque-monsieur instead of the soup, grilled-cheese and extra in one meal! 😋

[jartita-me-teneis]

He estado investigando métodos de supervivencia de la Segunda Guerra Mundial y encontré esta antigua técnica que me pareció brillante. Con problemas en la cadena de suministro, lo primero que desaparece de los estantes es el pan, seguido del levadura y la harina. Este método es una manera brillante y sostenible de estirar recursos preciosos con algo que la mayoría de nosotros podemos cultivar muy fácilmente: harina de calabacín.

Puede que para algunos sea conocido, pero nunca se sabe, ¿verdad? Con las crecientes preocupaciones sobre los costos del trigo, pensé en compartirlo. Probablemente haya maneras más sofisticadas de hacer esto, pero así es como aprendí yo. Fácil y sencillo. No tiene complicación.

Nosotros amamos y hacemos toneladas de harina de calabacín cada año. Quizás lo hayas escuchado llamado harina Amish o harina de tropas antes. Es un básico en los hogares Amish y Menonitas aquí desde hace generaciones. También fue muy usado en los años 1940 durante el racionamiento.

1. Deja que tus calabacines crezcan grandes; es mejor que sean grandes o extra grandes, incluso del tamaño de un calabacín grande.

2. Pela los calabacines con un pelador de zanahorias en tiras delgadas y uniformes para reducir el tiempo de secado, o pásalos por un mandolina para prepararlos más rápido.

3. Pasa las tiras por un deshidratador electrónico o cuélgalas para secar. Evita las semillas grandes para obtener una textura más fina. Asegúrate de que las tiras estén completamente secas; cualquier humedad podría arruinarlas durante el almacenamiento.

4. Pasa las tiras secas por un procesador de alimentos o molinillo manual hasta obtener una consistencia en polvo. El resultado será un polvo verde marmolado, similar en textura a la harina integral de buena calidad. Tres calabacines grandes rinden aproximadamente cuatro o cinco tazas de harina terminada.

5. Usa la harina de calabacín para reemplazar 1/3 de la harina en la mayoría de las recetas sin cambiar el producto final. Actúa como agente espesante para salsas, es excelente para empanizar pescado y funciona bien para tortillas y bannock. También es ideal para hacer albóndigas y brownies.

6. Almacena la harina de calabacín en frascos herméticos o bolsas selladas al vacío.

Para nosotros, todavía compramos granos de un molino local familiar. Por lo tanto, esto es gratis, sostenible, fácil de producir en el lugar y tiene un sabor suave. La mayoría de la gente ni siquiera lo notaría. Reduce nuestro uso de harina en un tercio. Puedes hacer lo mismo con batatas dulces y regulares, otras variedades de calabaza, bellotas y calabazas. Simplemente encuentro que el calabacín es el menos sabroso. Además, ¡nos abrumemos con esas cosas!

[haine-kleine]

Can people please stop using the 'atone' argument for the villains not getting a happy ending?

If Horikoshi wanted to make this story about atonement, then Grand Tortilla would have been dead long time ago instead of cheering on Shigaraki's murder and Allmight wouldn't be consoling Izuku saying it was fine to let Tomura die.

Enji says he will take all the public backlash on himself. He is already atoning! He had accepted that everything that Dabi did was a direct consequence of his actions and this is the only time in the last chapter the narrative pats him on the back by having Natsuo admit that he thought his otou-san (not Endeavour) was cool for the first time in his life.

The war happened because the heroes actively oppressed the minorities and kept the status quo until it all blew up in their faces. The second war arc didn't even give the heroes any serious consequences. Having the villains slaughtered and put in prison takes any logical meaning of the story away. It was the League who was punished in the second war arc: separated, silenced, severely injured, brain damaged, having lost their friends.

The heroes just going back to the status quo after defeating the minorities they have been ignoring all these years would make this story extremely depressing. It's time for the heroes to take responsibility and make amends, not demand that their victims atone for not being able to take it anymore and fighting back.

[zzoomacroom]

Ooohhh, new getting to know you game!

Tagged by @4typercent and @tj-dragonblade, thanks babes! 💗💗💗

Who was your first fictional crush?

Disney's Aladdin lmao. I remember watching it with my cousin and both of us being like 😍

What's the first colour you think of when I tell you to think of a colour?

Oh fuck uhhhhhhhh orange. No wait, blue!

Which fanfiction emotionally scarred you and still makes you shudder to this day?

I'd rather not say because it's from my current fandom and it's actually really good (the part I read anyway), but I had to stop reading because it squicked me out badly and triggered some old trauma. But that's on me for not taking the tags seriously enough

I'm coming to your house for dinner, non-negotiable, what are you making me?

Umm uhhhh I don't know, what do you like? This is a lot of pressure 😭 how about some pasta? With like a bunch of veggies and pesto sauce? I can make some pretty good soups? Or I could make carnitas in the crock pot and we can have tacos (don't worry, I get the good tortillas from the Mexican grocery store, none of that Mission bullshit)

Do you prefer lions or kangaroos?

Kangaroos, they're like real life Pokémon

Which fictional villain do you brush past the glaringly obvious issues for because you really like them?

Oh gosh I'm drawing a blank...I kind of agree with @tj-dragonblade about Erik from Phantom of the Opera. Only because I was like 15 when I saw it and thought "I want a dark, mysterious man with a beautiful voice to be obsessed with me 🥺"

Oh, and Jareth from Labyrinth. I mean, come on, it's Bowie. Hmm, I may have a type...

What would accompany your picture in the Burn Book in Mean Girls?

Fat, annoying nerd with a mustache

How many days would you last in the universe of your favourite fandom?

I'd probably be fine, I tend to stay out of trouble and I'm not important enough to get the attention of any villains (hopefully)

Have you heard of Mischief Theatre?

No, but I just googled it and it sounds like fun

Do you feel sorry for Medusa?

I guess? Idk, if anything I envy her--snake hair and the ability to turn people to stone? Sounds awesome, sign me up. Yeah, it's probably obvious that I don't know much about Greek mythology

Which song makes you think of your OTP?

"In My Life" by the Beatles is sooooo dreamling coded, I might just work it into one of my fics. Also "Shelter Song" by Temples. But I can manage to make nearly any song about my blorbos

Which song makes you dissociate and daydream the fastest?

Pink Floyd's "Atom Heart Mother" suite. It sounds like the soundtrack to some grand, epic adventure

No pressure tags: @duckland @marvagon @kydrogendragon @tryan-a-bex @mallory-x @goofygooberton @fleabagoftheendless and anyone else who wants to join in! ✨️

[regimepure]

Recettes pour mincir

Dans notre quête de bien-être et de santé, trouver des recettes qui non seulement aident à mincir, mais sont aussi délicieuses et nutritives, est essentiel. Nous vous proposons un ensemble de recettes minceur équilibrées qui satisferont vos papilles tout en vous aidant à atteindre vos objectifs de perte de poids.

Si vous souhaitez en savoir plus, visitez → Recettes Pour Mincir : Astuces et Menus Équilibrés

Petit-déjeuner sain et équilibré

Smoothie vert détox

Les smoothies verts sont un excellent moyen de commencer la journée avec une dose de vitamines et de minéraux. Voici une recette simple et rapide :

Ingrédients :

1 tasse d’épinards frais

1 banane

1 pomme verte

1 kiwi

1 tasse d’eau de coco

1 cuillère à café de graines de chia

Préparation :

Mélangez tous les ingrédients dans un blender jusqu’à obtention d’une consistance lisse.

Servez immédiatement et profitez de ce cocktail de nutriments.

Overnight oats à la cannelle et aux pommes

Les flocons d’avoine préparés la veille sont parfaits pour un petit-déjeuner rapide et nourrissant.

Ingrédients :

1/2 tasse de flocons d’avoine

1/2 tasse de lait d’amande

1/2 tasse de yaourt grec

1 pomme râpée

1 cuillère à café de cannelle

1 cuillère à café de miel

Préparation :

Mélangez tous les ingrédients dans un bocal.

Laissez reposer au réfrigérateur toute la nuit.

Le matin, remuez et dégustez.

Déjeuners légers et nourrissants

Salade de quinoa aux légumes grillés

Le quinoa est une excellente source de protéines et de fibres, parfait pour un déjeuner léger mais rassasiant.

Ingrédients :

1 tasse de quinoa cuit

1 courgette

1 poivron rouge

1 poivron jaune

1 oignon rouge

2 cuillères à soupe d’huile d’olive

Jus d’un citron

Sel et poivre au goût

Préparation :

Préchauffez le four à 200°C.

Coupez les légumes en dés et mélangez-les avec l’huile d’olive, le sel et le poivre.

Étalez les légumes sur une plaque de cuisson et faites-les griller pendant 20 minutes.

Mélangez le quinoa cuit avec les légumes grillés et arrosez de jus de citron.

Wrap au poulet et aux légumes croquants

Les wraps sont une excellente option pour un déjeuner rapide et portable.

Ingrédients :

1 poitrine de poulet cuite et coupée en fines tranches

1 tortilla de blé complet

1 carotte râpée

1 concombre coupé en fines lamelles

1 avocat tranché

Quelques feuilles de laitue

2 cuillères à soupe de houmous

Préparation :

Étalez le houmous sur la tortilla.

Ajoutez les tranches de poulet, les légumes et l’avocat.

Roulez la tortilla et coupez-la en deux.

Dîners légers et savoureux

Poisson en papillote avec légumes

La cuisson en papillote permet de conserver les nutriments et les saveurs.

Ingrédients :

2 filets de saumon

1 courgette

1 carotte

1 poireau

1 citron

Herbes de Provence

Sel et poivre

Préparation :

Préchauffez le four à 180°C.

Coupez les légumes en julienne.

Placez chaque filet de saumon sur une feuille de papier sulfurisé, ajoutez les légumes, les herbes, le sel, le poivre et une rondelle de citron.

Refermez les papillotes et faites cuire pendant 20 minutes.

Soupe de lentilles corail et légumes

Une soupe chaude et réconfortante, parfaite pour le dîner.

Ingrédients :

1 tasse de lentilles corail

2 carottes

2 branches de céleri

1 oignon

2 gousses d’ail

1 litre de bouillon de légumes

1 cuillère à soupe d’huile d’olive

1 cuillère à café de cumin

Sel et poivre

Préparation :

Dans une grande casserole, faites revenir l’oignon et l’ail hachés dans l’huile d’olive.

Ajoutez les carottes et le céleri coupés en dés, puis le cumin.

Ajoutez les lentilles corail et le bouillon de légumes.

Laissez mijoter pendant 20 minutes jusqu’à ce que les lentilles soient tendres.

Desserts légers et délicieux

Salade de fruits frais

Une option simple et rafraîchissante pour finir le repas sur une note sucrée sans culpabilité.

Ingrédients :

1 mangue

1 ananas

2 kiwis

1 poignée de myrtilles

Jus d’un citron vert

Quelques feuilles de menthe

Préparation :

Coupez tous les fruits en dés.

Mélangez-les dans un grand bol.

Arrosez de jus de citron vert et ajoutez les feuilles de menthe.

Yogourt grec au miel et aux noix

Un dessert riche en protéines et en bonnes graisses.

Ingrédients :

1 tasse de yogourt grec

1 cuillère à soupe de miel

1 poignée de noix concassées

1 pincée de cannelle

Préparation :

Dans un bol, mélangez le yogourt grec avec le miel.

Ajoutez les noix concassées et saupoudrez de cannelle.

Conclusion

Ces recettes pour mincir sont conçues pour vous aider à atteindre vos objectifs de perte de poids tout en savourant chaque bouchée. En intégrant ces plats dans votre alimentation quotidienne, vous pouvez profiter d’une cuisine savoureuse et équilibrée, favorisant une meilleure santé et un bien-être optimal.

Si vous souhaitez en savoir plus, visitez → Recettes Pour Mincir : Astuces et Menus Équilibrés