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ilovepedro · 5 months

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frosted cookies | husband!frankie morales x wife!reader

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Rating: 18+ MDNI

Word count: ~4.4k

Summary: You pack away an extra treat in your husband’s lunch. What happens when Frankie sees you’ve packed more than just some cookies? Cookies won’t be the only thing that’s frosted when he has his way with you.

Warnings: unprotected PIV (wrap it up y’all!!), oral (f receiving), fingering, doggy style, missionary, praise kink, three (3) spanks, cum eating, teeniest bit of soft dom!Frankie, sickening fluff, after care, pet names (querida, hermosa, baby, etc), husband!Frankie being so in love and down bad for his wife, reader speaks some Spanish, reader is female, no mention of hair type/skin color/body type, NO USE OF Y/N, some Spanish translations throughout.

A/N: can be read as part of the “just married” universe or a stand alone. did y’all think i forgot about a 500 follower treat?! hehehe i would never!! i’m back with a lil slice of domestic holiday bliss and smut with our guy, our husband! i’m just so down bad for Frankie, like there’s really no explaining myself. he’s everything. i want him so bad.🧎‍♀️anyway, happy Frankie friday everybody! hope y’all enjoy 🫶🏼 not beta’d, all mistakes are my own. 🏃‍♀️

Divider by @saradika

“Jesus, querida. How many cookies are you gonna bake?” Frankie asks before popping one into his mouth. “Francisco! Ya basta! (Enough) Those are for tomorrow!” You yell, smacking your husband’s hand away from getting anymore cookies.

After tomorrow, you and Frankie are off for 10 days. The stress and anticipation of the festivities and just spending uninterrupted time together energizes you to work rapidly. You’ve been baking all day for your office’s Christmas party, whipping up an array of cookies and packaging them up to give out to your coworkers.

Flour, powdered sugar, and icing bags are scattered throughout the counter. A bowl of icing sitting in the middle of the island and cookie cutters next to 3 trays of cookies. Powdered sugar coats your hands and icing splattered across your apron.

“Lo siento, bebita, (I'm sorry, baby girl)” he says through a muffled mouthful of cookie, rubbing circles on your lower back while he peppers kisses to your shoulder.

“I have to make sure there’s enough for everyone. 50 is good right? The whole office will be there, and I don’t want anyone to feel left out,” you ramble as you roll out the last batch of dough in between parchment paper. Frankie rubs up and down your arms as you cut them into shapes.

“50 is plenty, baby. You work too hard, mi amor. Is this the last batch?”

“Yeah, I’ll finally be done after this one comes out the oven,” you say as you place them onto the cookie sheet.

“Good. You need to rest, and I wanna have my wife to myself.” You turn around in his embrace and wrap your arms around his neck. “You sure no one will feel left out?”

A small gentle smile splays on his lips as he readjusts his grip on your hips. “No one will feel left out, baby. I promise. And if they do, then fuck ‘em. They don’t know how hard you work, or how kind you truly are,” he softly says. A relieved smile creeps onto your face as a toothy grin appears on his. He places a sweet, lingering kiss to your lips, you getting lost in him as the taste of him mixes with the sugary cookie he’d just eaten. Both of you sighing into one another, never getting enough of each other.

The oven timer dings, startling the both of you and breaking the kiss as you jump back a bit. The two of you giggling like a pair of children, Frankie places one last chaste kiss to your lips as you head to the oven. Feeling a playful swat to your ass, you turn around and playfully scold your husband as you remove the cookies out of the oven - the aroma of sugar and spice filling the air.

“How long’s this last batch gonna take, mi vida?” Frankie asks as you place the final batch of cookies in the oven. “Only 15 minutes, mi amor. Tener paciencia (have patience),” you say through a fit of giggles, laughing at your husband’s impatience. He scoffs, rolling his eyes as you stride towards him. Pulling him in for another kiss, his hands freely roam down to your ass, giving it a playful squeeze. Laughing into him, you pull away as you bark out a belly laugh, your husband mirroring you.

“Could you help me clean up, please baby? The faster we clean, the faster I’m all yours,” you taunt. “Of course, mi vida, you don’t even have to ask. Although, the incentive is nice,” he says with a smirk. The two of you swiftly maneuver throughout the kitchen while the cookies bake. Frankie clearing the counter as you wipe it down, and washing and drying dishes together - working in tandem to tidy up your kitchen. The oven timer dings once more, Frankie washing and drying the remaining dishes as you remove the last batch and set them on the cooling rack. As you remove your oven mitts, Frankie tosses the dish rag onto the counter and swoops behind you, engulfing you in his broad, taut arms while he litters kisses along your neck.

“All done, mi amor?” He asks against your skin, his mustache tickling you along with his eagerness, eliciting a laugh from you. “All done, mi amor,” you laugh, wrapping your arm around his neck to twirl the curls at the nape of his neck. “Vamos, mi esposa,” he says, whisking you away and up the stairs.

Laughter bubbling over the two of you as you rush up the stairs.

After tomorrow, it’s 10 days of this - uninterrupted bliss with each other.

Frankie plops down on the chair, groaning as time ticks by agonizingly slow. He runs a hand over his face, his wedding ring making contact with his cheek reminds him of you - just 4 more hours until he’s home with you.

Cracking open his lunchbox, he smiles as he spots the usual yellow sticky note that you pack in his lunch which lay atop some of the freshly baked cookies that you made last night. Picking it up, he reads the note:

“Enjoy your lunch, mi esposo hermoso. Can’t wait for you to frost my cookie when you get home ;)

-Con amor, su esposa”

Beneath it, a polaroid of you dressed in a crimson red babydoll with white fur lining the bust. It leaves little to the imagination as you display your breasts to the camera, a coy smile on your lips as white frosting runs down your lips and onto your chin, teasingly biting into one of the cookies you baked.

His breath hitches in his throat, eyes widening as he takes in your form. He’s hard as a fucking rock, his lunch now completely forgotten.

“‘S matter, boss? Wife forget to pack your juice or something?” A stupid rookie asks, laughing too hard at his own joke as he creeps up behind Frankie to catch a glimpse inside his lunchbox. Frankie immediately drops the polaroid back inside and flips the lid closed before the rookie can see it.

“Shut the hell up, Daniel,” Frankie grumbles as he rises to his feet, stomping out of the break room and into his tiny, cluttered office. He typically eats lunch here, wanting to get away from the fumes that permeate the shop, but the anticipation of your time off together made him antsy - seeking out a place without constant reminders of you as the day drags on.

That did absolutely nothing. Your boudoir polaroid having made his day better and worse simultaneously. You looked nothing short of a dream, but now his impatience is getting the better of him as his mind wanders to all the things he plans to do to you tonight. He groans, his cock still half hard as he unravels his lunch. He huffs sticking the polaroid in his wallet, aggressively nibbling at his lunch.

Could this day go by any slower?

He opens the door, tossing his keys into the bowl as he shuts and locks it. Trudging inside, he toes off his boots, pushing them to the side as he takes in your fully decorated home. His heart swells at the sight, knowing you were off work early today after your office party. Meaning you probably spent the entire afternoon decorating.

Garlands adorn every wall, the tree now fully decorated and the Christmas village sits atop the mantle. Twinkling lights warmly illuminate the room. The sprig of mistletoe hangs above the entryway to the kitchen, the smell of dinner and more baked goods permeating through the air mingling with the fresh pine scent of the tree.

You’ve gone full Christmas-mode and he can’t get enough of your domesticity - your ability to make every single thing you touch feel like home.

“Frankie?!” You yell faintly from the kitchen.

“Hermosa, I’m home!” He shouts as he shrugs off his brown utility jacket. Footsteps bound from the kitchen and into the hall. There you stand, in all your domestic glory with your apron around your front and a bit of flour on your cheek.

You beam at him, happy your husband is finally home for the week. Your office is closed and so is the shop for the following week and then some for the holiday, now you have him all to yourself for the next 10 days. Practically flinging yourself into his arms, you wrap your arms around his neck, pulling him in for a searing kiss. He laughs at your eagerness, his cock twitching in his pants as you tug him closer by his soft curls, deepening the kiss. His tongue slips into your mouth, a soft moan escaping you and into Frankie.

It’s unclear who breaks the kiss first, but the both of you are heaving, panting for air. The smile returning to your face, a smug look appearing on your husband’s face.

“Hi, baby. I missed you.” Your hands snake up his chest and you remove his cap from his head, setting it on the table by the door, carding your fingers through his hair. His smile softens, eyes gleaming with love. “Hi, mi amor. I missed you too. I see you got up to some stuff while I was gone,” he says, swirling circles on your lower back. You giggle, knowing you can be a bit elaborate when it comes to decorating.

“‘S not too much?” You ask. He quickly shakes his head. “Never, mi amor,” he nearly whispers, reassuring you before capturing your lips in another kiss. Walking you backwards into the kitchen, he presses you up against the kitchen counter, catching a whiff of something baking in the oven again.

He pulls back, forehead resting against yours as he swipes away the flour that’s smudged on your cheek. “You’re still baking, mi vida? I thought you were finished,” he asks. “I am, but I wanted to make you something, a treat to celebrate our vacation,” you ramble. A chuckle rumbles in his sturdy chest.

“Got the most delicious treat right here,” he tsks, you chuckle rolling your eyes at his cheesiness as butterflies erupt in your belly. His hardening length presses against your core as he dives in to litter your neck with kisses. “Even got a picture to prove it,” he rasps against you. A small gasp escapes you.

So he did see the picture.

“Oh really? Can I see this picture, amor?” Your voice breathy and titillating, feigning oblivion as a smirk plastered on your face while he sucks on your neck.

“I’m sure you know what it looks like. In fact, you’re gonna let me recreate it with the real thing, baby.” His voice low and husky now as his clothed, hard cock ruts into you.

A wave of arousal pools in your panties. “I am?” You breathlessly ask, still keeping up the innocent act.

“Mhmm. Gonna be covered in me. Isn’t that what you wanted, princesa? Huh? You couldn’t wait for me to get home and frost your cookie, hermosa?” He asks as his lips ghost over yours now, emphasizing the reference to the note you’d put in his lunchbox this morning. You snort, eyes shutting as heat courses through your veins as he quotes the note, and warmth blooming in your belly.

A light smack to your thigh reels you back in, eyes flying open. His eyes filled with lust, pupils darkening. Your eyes glossy and hazy, feeling tipsy just off his embrace, his words.

“Y-yes, Frankie. ‘S what I wanted - want. Want you s-so bad, mi amor,” you mumble against his ear as he resumes peppering kisses along your chest. Humming against you, your words going straight to his cock, which you feel as he presses into your core a bit harder.

“Want you so bad, too, princesa. Been wanting you all day. Y’know how hard it was to keep it together seeing that picture of you? Look so fucking sexy, fuck. Had to stop myself from cumming in my jeans like a fucking teenager,” he mutters into your ear. You giggle, taking great joy in knowing your husband wants you just as bad as you do, maybe even more.

He bites down on your earlobe, your giggles quickly dissipating into a moan. “But what you did today was so bad, mi vida. Distracted me all fucking day from work, could barely concentrate. I think you just made it on the naughty list. What do you think, baby? Are you naughty or nice?”

“N-nice. Nice, baby,” you whimper as Frankie unties your apron and smoothly tosses it on the counter.

“Mmmm, you sure about that? You gonna be a nice, good girl for me and let me have my way with you?” You furiously nod, your neediness growing into an impatient monster.

He laughs at your eagerness, relishing in how needy you are for him. “Come on, princesa. Show me how good you are,” he rasps before releasing you from his grasp, grabbing your hand as you two stumble out of the kitchen and up the stairs. Excitement stirring within you as he leads you to your room.

Frankie flings the door open, eagerly bringing you into his embrace again. He cups your cheeks, leaning in as his lips engulf yours in a messy, heated kiss. It’s all tongue as teeth gnash together, moans flying out from both of you while you strip each other down. Frankie groans as he discards your bra onto the floor. You can’t help the moan that escapes you as you shuck off your husband’s briefs, his hard cock springing free, weeping and red.

“On the bed, hermosa,” he demands, his timbre husky and low. You scramble onto the bed, laying on your back, displaying yourself for your husband. “Spread your legs.”

Your brain on autopilot, operating as if Frankie has a remote to control your actions.

Legs spread, the cool air of the room hits your sopping core, a shiver running down your spine. Frankie licks his lips, pupils blown black and wide swirling with lust. He stalks towards you, laying down and settling himself in front of your aching pussy. He grabs your thighs, placing them on either side of his head. The frigidity of his wedding band burning into your skin, contrasting the blaze that burns from within you as you anticipate your husband’s next move.

You pant as the excitement transforms into a forest fire within your core, Frankie so close to where you desperately need him. He presses firm kisses to your thighs, your breath catching in your throat again. Kissing and nipping at your thighs, your neediness causes your hips to involuntarily buck into Frankie - his nose catching on your clit for a split second. A shocking loud moan escapes you as Frankie pushes you back down on the bed.

“Just like you told me last night, mi vida. And like how I had to tell myself after what you pulled this afternoon: tener paciencia,” he practically growls against your thighs. You whine as his teasing resumes. You know this is payback for the polaroid, making him wait all day for some relief. Your husband is the most patient man you know, even when he wants nothing more than to take you any chance he can get.

His desire for you though, constantly burning, so you know this must be killing him too. However, the sweet revenge of seeing you fall apart and writhe under him, begging him to do something is the most delicious reward.

“Frankie,” you desperately sigh, eyes closing as he presses kisses to your mound. “When have I ever not given you what you wanted? Hmm, baby?” He asks against your core, your eyes opening and to lock with his gaze. “Never, mi amor,” you nearly whisper, it comes out much more rushed than intended.

“Tranquila, mi vida. I’m gonna take care of you and this pretty pussy. I got you, baby,” he says with one last kiss to your thigh. Without preamble, he licks a long, languid stripe up your folds. A relieved moan tumbling from your lips as you bury your head further into the pillow. He repetitiously licks up your glistening core, your clit throbbing for some attention. Your husband knows your body like the back of his hand, as if he can read your mind.

He flicks your precious pearl with a steady rhythm, wrapping his lips around it. You twitch underneath him, eyes heavy and glazed.

“Oh fuck, Frankie!” You keen as your hands fly to tug on his hair, his rhythmic, skilled tongue bringing you closer to the edge. Your weeping cunt clenches around nothing as a wave of slick seeps from your hole. He snakes a hand up to cup your breast, flicking and suckling your clit as he rolls your nipple in between his thick, calloused fingers, alternating breasts. Your breathing is ragged as you moan, Frankie groaning and humming into you. The vibrations rumbling from within him launching you higher into your climax, teetering on lift off.

“Feels s-so f-fucking good, Frankie. Always s-so fucking g-good,” you babble. He pulls away for a second, his chin coated in your slick. “Come on, baby. Know you’re close. Let go, hermosa,” he rasps right above your swollen cunt. He dives back in, moving his hand from your breast to your entrance, two fingers sliding home with the amount of slick pouring from you.

A sharp gasp escapes you, eyes rolling back at the welcomed intrusion as Frankie rapidly and steadily alternates between sucking and flicking your clit. His fingers hitting that spongy spot only his fingers and cock can reach. The coil in your belly snaps as you’re launched into your orgasm, stars appearing behind your eyes as your vision blurs white hot.

Frankie helps you ride out your high as you scream and writhe beneath him, lapping up every last drop of slick gushing from your throbbing pussy. Desperately trying not to rut his hips into the mattress, he groans at the sweet, tangy taste of you that he can never get enough of. Your thighs tremble as you slowly return back to Earth, whimpering as Frankie presses soft kisses to your thighs.

“Did so good for me, baby. Always so fucking good for me,” he hushes you, peppering kisses up your body.

You fight to keep your eyes open, catching sight of your husband soaked in your release as his mustache and patchy beard gleams in the warm glow of the bedroom.

Pulling him down, you connect your lips with his, both of you moaning into one another. Wrapping your arms around his broad, strong shoulders as you tug on his curls. His mouth licking into yours, letting you taste your sweet slick on your tongue. Sweet and heady, the kiss melds into something sinful as you feel Frankie’s hard, leaking cock rubs right above your core. Precum smearing on your belly, Frankie pulls back and moans at the friction.

“Not done with you yet, querida,” he says gruffly as he lifts himself off you. “Turn around,” he demands. You recognize that tone: he’s gonna have his way with you tonight. A shiver runs down your spine as a new rush of arousal burns brightly in your core. You swiftly lay on your stomach.

“On your knees, baby.” His voice husky and firm. You readjust yourself and settle on your knees, balancing yourself on your forearms. Feeling the mattress dip behind you, another spark of arousal jolts in your pussy, your belly warm and full of anticipation. You can hear Frankie pumping himself in his fist as he lines his hips up with yours.

“See, you can be a good girl. Knew you could do it, mi vida.” You moan at his praise. His large hands caress your ass, engulfing your cheeks in each hand, admiring the view. You teasingly wiggle your ass, Frankie-drunk giggles bubbling over your lips and spilling into the pillow. A smack comes down on your ass, the sting of it making your pussy throb. Moaning as you turn your head to the side, locking eyes with Frankie.

His chocolate irises invisible, eyes completely darkened and filled to the brim with lust.

“Don’t start.” You nod, drool pooling under your mouth, your patience wearing thin. “Be good, baby,” he rasps as he lines his cock up with your entrance. His tip prodding your aching hole, as one of his hands rests on your ass. He slowly slides in, taking his time bottoming out. Both of you moaning in tandem as his cock splits you open, the sting blurring the lines of pain and pleasure. You squeeze around him as he fully sheathes himself inside you, never fully getting used to his size despite being married to him now.

“Alright, baby. Alright, baby,” He hisses, roughly kneading your ass. “Come on now. Relax, baby. I got you,” he calmly whispers. You feel yourself relax, unclenching and releasing him from your vice grip. “There we go. Good girl,” he says as he leans down to press a kiss behind the shell of your ear.

He slowly slides out from you, nearly pulling out all the way until he slams his hips back into yours. His cock punching your cervix.

“Frankie!” You gasp, moaning as you grip the sheets. He repeats the motion, grunting as he cants his hips. “Tightest, sweetest fucking pussy ever. Fuck, always feel so fucking good, baby. You were made for me, made to take my cock. Huh, querida?” He asks, breathing ragged as he fucks in and out of you. You nod and moan in agreement, words escaping you as he brings you close to your second orgasm. It doesn’t take long for your orgasm to slowly creep up on you, still reeling from the sensitivity of your previous one.

Another smack hits your ass, clenching around him in your tight heat. You love when Frankie gets a bit rough with you.

“Words, querida. Come on, you were doing so good,” he taunts. You swallow through your moans, unaware of the desperate tears of pleasure that were pooling in your eyes.

“Y-yes, baby. Made for you, made for your cock. S-so fucking good to me, Frankie. L-luckiest girl in the w-world,” you babble. You feel him twitch inside you before he pulls out.

Whining at the loss of your husband’s cock, you’re suddenly being flipped on your back. Before you can give what’s happening a second thought, Frankie slides back into you. Your calves pressed against his strong chest, your ankles resting atop his taut shoulders as he bends you in half. His pace rapidly picking up, his thrusts growing sloppy.

“‘S right, baby. Made for me. I’m the luckiest man in the world, querida. Won the wife lottery,” he rasps lowly, pressing a kiss to your calf.

The love you have for this man is overwhelming. His existence constantly gracing your mind, his unwavering support, his unconditional love, never feeling like you’re not enough for him, his kindness, his patience, how gentle he is with you even when he’s roughing you up.

“Eres la esposa más hermosa y perfecta del mundo. (You're the most beautiful and perfect wife in the world) So lucky to call you my wife, baby,” he grunts, punctuating each word with his thrusts. His sweet words toss you over the edge, fat tears of euphoria and love cascade down your cheeks as you scream his name.

An endless stream of slick seeps from your cunt, coating Frankie in your release. The squelching sound filling the air mixed with pants and moans is sinful, obscene.

“Fuck yes, baby. Give it to me, all of it. Soak my cock, querida. So fucking good - you, this pussy, our life, fuck yes,” he babbles. You mindlessly move your legs from his hold to wrap around his middle, bringing him in closer as you ride out your high.

“Love you so much, Frankie. Best husband in the world, come on, mi amor. Cum for me, need your cum,” you whine, giving him one last good squeeze. Frankie fills you up with half his load before pulling out and coating your mound in his cum. Endless moans streaming from you both. Frankie cums for a long time.

The picture really did a number on him.

Ropes of his spend coats your sex and your belly. Unable to control yourself, you reach down and swipe two fingers through his cum and lick them clean. Relishing the delicious, salty taste of your husband. Frankie groans as he sees you suck your fingers clean, gathering cum on his fingers and stuffing it back into your cunt. You moan around your fingers at the feeling of his thick, long fingers stuffing you full of his cum.

Releasing your fingers with a pop, Frankie pounces on you - his fingers brushing against your lips, prying your mouth open. You suck them into your mouth, an animalistic groan rumbling from within you as you taste the combination of you two. He removes his fingers, adjusting himself to pin you down, caging you in between his large biceps.

He dives in for a kiss, it’s slower - savoring the taste of you and him on your tongue as he soaks in the love which radiates off your body and into his soul. “Love you so much, mi vida. Para siempre (Always),” he whispers against your lips. You cup his cheeks, a soft smile on your lips as your eyes glimmer with contentment and love.

“Para siempre,” you repeat. Another firm, lingering kiss is pressed to your lips before he rises to his feet, padding to your shared bathroom. The faucet turns on, your usual routine of aftercare beginning. Frankie returns with the warm rag, gently cleaning you up.

“Frosted your cookie pretty good, huh?” He asks with a smirk on his lips, curls in disarray.

You bark out a belly laugh, unable to control your laughter at your husband’s stupid joke.

“Francisco!” You squeal. Frankie tsks and rolls his eyes. “Oh after all the shit we just did, that’s where you draw the line?!” He playfully asks, a toothy grin on his face.

“No, I just thought you forgot about that stupid note!” You say through your laughter, Frankie bursting into a fit of giggles with you. “Wasn’t stupid, and how could I ever forget that and that picture?” He asks as he continues to clean you up.

“Speaking of, I’m not even gonna question when and how you took that picture, but next time, I’m helping you,” he says as he rises up and walks back into the bathroom to discard the rag into the laundry basket. “Whatever you say, mi amor,” you tease from the bed.

He returns, playfully pouncing on the bed beside you. Another fit of giggles erupts from you.

“That’s right, baby. Whatever I say,” he says with a wink and a smile, interlacing your fingers with his - toying with your wedding ring as he places a chaste kiss to your lips before saddling up beside you.

i love husband!Frankie sm 😫😔

wrote this on a bit of a whim, i had no idea what i wanted to do, i just knew i wanted to write a lil christmasy somethin-somethin for y'all 🩷

i hope y'all enjoyed!!! thank you for reading 🫶🏼

tag list: @nostalxgic @sweetercalypso @undrthelights @gracieheartspedro @jenispunk @joelsgreys @bastardmandennis @party-hearses @tinygarbage @mandoisapunk @javierpena-inatacvest @pedgito @tupelomiss @pedrostories @harriedandharassed

#nini’s 500 follower celebration #happy frankie friday #frankie morales #francisco morales #frankie catfish morales #francisco catfish morales #frankie morales x reader #frankie morales x f!reader #frankie morales x female reader #frankie morales x you #frankie morales smut #frankie morales fluff #husband!frankie

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kazoosandfannypacks · 2 months

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Hey guys! I wanted to put together a list of low spoons foods, and thought you might enjoy it. My primary objective was to come up with a list that requires little to no prep, is relatively inexpensive, and has a fairly long shelf life. There's also a few of my favorite simple recipes at the end. Bon apatite!

Proteins: Tuna/Canned chicken: Canned tuna/chicken can usually last a few years, and you can get it for a dollar or two, sometimes cheaper. It can be cooked easily in a skillet, eaten raw, or added to soups/pasta. Mix with some mayo for a quick tuna or chicken salad that goes well on bread, tortillas, or crackers. You can add raisins or cheese for a little extra variety as well! Breakfast sausage: A lot of meats are really scary to cook with, but I've come to the conclusion that breakfast sausage is designed for people with that groggy, zombie-like morning brain, so it's fairly simple; just pop it on a plate (usually with a paper towel to catch the grease) and toss it in the microwave. You can get it as links or patties, and if you're like me where foods with a hint of flavor are unreasonably spicy, there's a maple variety that's sweet rather than spiced. Deli meats: There's no rule against buying a package of pre-sliced ham, turkey, roast beef or even bologna that's designed for sandwiches and instead just snacking on it when you need some protein, or just serving it on the side with your meal. If it feels weird to just eat sliced deli meat and you've got the time and energy, get some sliced cheese as well, cut them into squares with a butter knife, and eat them with crackers for DIY lunchables. Peanut Butter: Peanut butter is an excellent source of protein, and you can eat it on bread, crackers, tortillas, celery, pancakes, or even just on its own on a spoon! If you don't like the texture, you can mix it into something else like oatmeal, sauces, or pancake batter. If you don't like the flavor, try it with a little cinnamon sugar (put cinnamon and sugar in a jar or shaker and shake it until incorporated.) If you've got a peanut allergy, alternative butters are good too, but often separate if you leave them out for too long, but are much better in baking than on their own. Eggs: Making eggs is hard sometimes, but you can boil a bunch in advance and leave them in the fridge for when you need them (not too many or for too long, though.) Just put them in water and bring it to a boil; once the eggs start to float, leave them there for ten minutes. Once they're done, drain them and leave them in cold water for ten minutes to cool. Either peel in advance if you've got the time, or peel as needed. Store in an airtight container in the fridge.

Dairy: Sliced Cheese: Just like with deli meats above, you can get sliced cheese to chomp on when you need a little boost. There's a lot of flavors to choose from! Shredded Cheese: Shredded cheese is great for sprinkling onto your meals or just snacking on handfuls of. You can also throw some onto some tortilla chips and pop 'em in the microwave for ~30 seconds to make quick, cheap nachos. Cheese sticks: Not a fan of eating slices or shreds of cheese? Cheese sticks are much more snackable and can be eaten on the go! Yogurt: You can eat it as is, or you can mix in frozen fruits and honey to create an almost ice-cream like treat! Chocolate Milk: A carton of chocolate milk that you are going to drink is better for you than a carton of regular milk that is going to go bad because you can't bring yourself to drink it. If you're like me and milk leaves a weird taste in your mouth, try following it with water or finishing the milk before you finish the rest of your meal. Cream Cheese: You can put this stuff on anything, guys. Bagels? Crackers? Toast? English Muffins? Tortillas? Regular muffins? Cookies, even? Go crazy! Cottage cheese: A lot of people like cottage cheese for salads or with peaches, but it can also be tasty on its own.

Grains: Crackers: You can eat them as is, you can add cream cheese, nutella, peanut butter, tuna salad, deli meats and cheeses, or you could dip them in a spread like hummus, guac, or ranch. Tortillas: Sometimes bread can be Scary and Evil and there's no way you're gonna eat a whole loaf before it goes bad. I get it. Tortillas last longer, they're a better texture, and it's only eight servings per bag. Use them whenever you'd make a sandwich- pb&j, ham & cheese, tuna salad and more can all go in a simple wrap or roll up. If you're feeling ambitious, you can also make a quick breakfast burrito by throwing scrambled eggs and breakfast sausage in a tortilla with a little cheese. Pancake mix: Boxed pancake mix is simple enough- just add water, or milk to make it fluffier, then cook according to instructions. It's a little time consuming, but it's simple to learn, and if you make a big enough batch you can just pop them in the microwave, airfryer, or even the toaster in the morning for the rest of the week. You can also spice up your mix by adding frozen fruits, peanut butter, bacon bits & cheese, or chocolate chips, or by replacing the water in the recipe with coffee, apple cider, or chocolate milk! Toaster Waffles: Toaster waffles are great for a quick breakfast or snack, but can also be used for sandwiches, or topped with a protein like peanut butter!

Fruits and Vegetables: Raisins: Raisins are sweet, inexpensive, take a long time to expire, and are guilt free— no one in the history of ever has ever felt bad about eating too many raisins! You can easily throw them in a trail mix (trail mix is a loose term; just throw whatever little snacks you have in the pantry into a bowl and mix 'em together,) or a chicken salad, and they're really good sprinkled on peanut butter! Dried fruit: You can find these in the trail mix section of most stores. If you don't like raisins, there may be a different dried fruit you do like. Dried bananas are delightfully crunchy. Dried mango is still a little moist. Find a dried fruit that works for you! Pickles: Pickles are a vegetable with an extremely long fridge life. You don't have to settle for pickled cucumber though; you can find all kinds of pickled vegetables at the store, or ask a friend who pickles (you know which friend came to mind) if they have a jar of pickled veggies they'd sell you or any tricks to pickling your own. Frozen Fruit: Fruits last so much longer frozen, and you can get fairly good sized bags of them for not too much at the store. They're great for mixing in with yogurt, baking, pancakes, and more! Frozen Vegetables: If expiration dates are your worst enemy, consider getting some longer lasting frozen veggies. They can be microwaved or added to soups or ramen. If you're not a fan of the taste, you can hide them by adding some in with the frozen fruit in a smoothie. Canned vegetables: Canned veggies also last a while, and can be added to soups, boiled, or sometimes eaten as is. Canned soup: Tomato soup or a soup with veggies in it is a great way to get some vegetables into your diet. You can also add any canned, fresh, or frozen veggies to any can of soup you have on hand to use up some of your leftovers before they go bad. Tomato sauce: If you keep a jar of marinara, pasta, or pizza sauce on hand in the fridge, you can spread it on any grain you have lying around (bagel, biscuit, crackers, bread, english muffin, tortilla) and add shredded cheese to make a quick and fun pizza. You can go crazy with extra toppings as well! Applesauce: It's great as is, but you could also mix in brown sugar and cinnamon, or add it to pancakes or oatmeal. It can also be used as an egg substitute in most of your baking, and you can even use it as a spread on pancakes!

Quick Recipes: 3 Ingredient Pancakes • 1/2 cup applesauce (or one mashed banana) • 1 egg • 1 packet instant oatmeal Mix all ingredients together and cook on a greased skillet at 375°

Two Minute Mug Cake • 6 tablespoons boxed cake mix • 4 tablespoons water or milk Combine ingredients in a mug and microwave for one minute.

Toaster Crispy Quesadilla • 1 tortilla • 1 slice of cheese (I like to use cheddar!) • deli meat Place a slice of cheese toward the top of the tortilla. Layer desired amount of meat on top. Fold the sides over your meat and cheese (so they can't drip out the sides) then fold in half over the cheese (so it won't drip out the bottom.) Place in the toaster with the open end UP! Toast as desired.

Tuna Bagel Melts • plain bagel • tuna salad (one can of tuna with a few spoonfuls of mayo to taste) • two slices cheese Open the bagel and spread tuna salad on it. Place the cheese on top of the bagels. Broil or airfry for a few minutes.

Cracker Pizzas • a dozen crackers • a few tablespoons tomato sauce • three slices of cheese Arrange the crackers on a plate. Spread a spoonful of sauce on each cracker. Fold each slice of cheese into fourths so they break apart. Place one little slice on each cracker. Microwave for thirty seconds.

Simple Smoothie Recipe • 1/2 cup yogurt • 1/2 cup milk • 1/2 cup frozen fruit Combine all ingredients in the blender. Blend. [To make this easier, pre-mark your blender. Add a half cup of water to your blender and mark with a sharpie to the fill level. Repeat twice. You now know what level to fill each ingredient to without the hassle of measuring them.

#kazzy's guide to life #recipes #food #cooking #low spoons #cw food #tumblr's in the kitchen with kazzy

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mommybard · 1 year

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I definitely trend closer to noodles ^^;;;

Though ive commited fairly complicated pan techniques and my chopping isnt bad >:3

One of my lazy go-tos:

Yakamein

Get a pound of beef. You can sub it for tofu for a veggie version. Take 1/4 cup soy sauce and combine it with 1/8 c brown sugar. If you have mirin or sesame oil you can add a splash of that to it too, if not no big deal.

Marinate the beef in the soy mix. I usually do it over night but at minimum I'd say like an hour.

Heat up some oil on the stove and cook the meat. Searing is the goal but if youre not comfy with that its fine. Cook it to whatever level of done you like your meat. Take the meat out and add some garlic and Cajun seasonings to that, to your spice level, and cook it for like a minute. Toss the marinade liquid into the pan and deglaze it.

In another pan, dump like a box of whatever kinda stock you like, and add the deglazed liquid to that and heat it up. I usually will toss in a bay leaf, a few cloves, and a star anise but if you don't have those dont worry about it. Let that simmer for like a half hour while you cook some spaghetti in another pot.

Put the naked spaghetti in a bowl. Pour the stock mix over the noodles. Cut up the meat and add a few slices to your noodles bowl. Garnish with green onions if you got em

#jubileegeode #nonhorny asks #mommy cooks

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custardcove · 4 months

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First Memories

Chapter Five - Easy as Pie

The competition was to be held three days after their discussion. Alice spent that time getting ready, despite her ever-growing sense of dread. Knowing Queenie, they’d be working in front of an audience, she’d make it the biggest deal possible, and Alice would crack under the pressure. But there was no use being paralysed by fear, she’d just have to do her best…

She had looked online and in Pansy’s cookbooks for the easiest to follow recipe of the highest quality. Ultimately, she’d cobbled together a fusion of several methods that she thought would be best. Some said to precook the apples, others said not to, but she’d made her mind up to follow the latter. This meant marinating the peeled and cut apples in sugar and spices for an hour. It seemed like there would be a lot of waiting time between cooking it all … she wished Taylor had shouted out something less time-consuming.

“The kind of apples you use are important too,” Pansy said from behind her, making her jump. “Got word there’ll be a few to choose from tomorrow.”

Alice wiped her hands on her loaned apron, which had otherwise stayed relatively clean. “What would you recommend?”

“Hmm.” Pansy leant on the doorframe to the kitchen, rubbing her chin. “Pink Ladies? No—maybe Braeburn. Somethin’ I can tell what it is might be better; that’s what I usually use—it’s what you got there. I’d want it to be fair, but … Queenie’s not playing fair.”

“Yeah. I’d expect she might try something.” Alice sighed. A half-finished pie crust lay on the counter before her. “Even if I don’t win though, um. Thank you for taking care of me. I don’t know how to repay you, but I’ll try when I—”

“Aw, you don’t need to do that.” Pansy moved closer to clap her on the shoulder.

“I do! I can’t just take living here for granted. Not like with my parents,” Alice joked. It didn’t get much of a reaction, so she continued, “Thank you, though. Really. I’d be dead two or more times without your help.”

Arms crushed her middle as Pansy swept forward, full of sentimentality. “Aww, you big softie!”

“I’m just being honest—I haven’t done anything to deserve—”

“Simply be! You don’t need to ‘deserve’ being rescued, or fed.”

“I suppose, but that doesn’t make you any less kind.”

Once Alice had escaped the pseuman’s iron grasp, she proceeded to cook her trial pie. When it had cooled she cut a slice for Pansy and mashed up some of the cooked apple for Primrose to try.

“Well…” she hovered as Pansy ate. “Is it any good?”

“It’s not bad.” Pansy chewed on her words as she savoured the pie. “I wasn’t expectin’ my socks to get blown off, but it’s cooked fine, and you’ve spiced it enough. I’d only recommend cutting the apples a bit more even-like tomorrow.”

“Right…” Alice gripped onto the apron fabric. At least it wasn’t awful, then.

Pansy helped spoon some of the apple mush into her daughter’s mouth. “See, Prim likes it.”

“Prim can judge tomorrow instead of you, then.”

Laughing, Pansy put the spoon down. “You’ll do fine! Better yet if you taste it yourself, might give you an idea.”

Alice cut herself a slice, sitting at the table with a cloud of gloom. She put a crumb of the pie in her mouth. It needed custard. “So, if I lose…”

“We’ll just have to think of somethin’ else. Find a trinket she’s willing to trade for, maybe? I don’t expect Miss Dragonpants will be a spectacular cook or anything like that. Someone with that much money has staff to cook for ‘em.”

“I guess you’re right.” Alice felt like there was some crucial detail about Queenie that meant this wouldn’t be the case, but she couldn’t put her finger on it. Oh well. “What should I be expecting tomorrow? Just so it doesn’t keep me up tonight…”

Pansy hesitated. “They’ve set up a sort of makeshift stage with kitchen appliances on it—it was still being done up when I went, but I was impressed. The only advertisement for it’s been word of mouth, but that travels fast here.” She paused again to take in Alice’s expression, in case her horror was too great. It was a manageable amount. “Taylor’s gonna MC—I’m starting to wonder if he ever goes to work! Apart from me n’ Tech, Queenie chose one of her maids as a judge. But tomorrow I’ll take you there, and all you have to do is cook.”

“Ugh … this better be worth it, then.”

***

In no time at all, the day of the competition was at hand. It was another bright and cheerful spring morning, but Alice trembled as she followed Pansy to Erryton square. They’d been to Pablo’s to drop off Primrose, but the wait only served to make Alice more nervous. She gained a bit of relief on arriving, noticing that the crowd there wasn’t very large, and was mostly scattered around food stalls and makeshift shops. The cooking competition was just an impromptu side-event. The stage, too, wasn’t huge like she’d expected – it was more of a flat platform, barely raised enough to stop people milling over it. Taylor was there, and he beamed at the pair, to which Alice offered a weak smile.

“You ready?” He asked.

“No.”

His eyebrows folded in sympathy. “You’ll do fine. Everyone’s here now, so we’ll start soon. Just stand near your kitchen area—the one on the left—and Pansy,” Taylor shifted his gaze, “You’ll be sitting on that table at the front with the other judges.”

Pansy smiled at Alice, patting her on the shoulder. A lot of people were trying to give her hope today… “Good luck.”

Mid-walk to her seat, Pansy whipped her head toward the kitchen area, pointing an accusatory finger. “Don’t think I don’t see you there, Queenie! You can’t just take Alice’s ingredients and throw the contest.”

Indeed, it seemed the noble had not-so-slyly swiped something from Alice’s setup, caught carrying it away to her station. “Oh, is this Alice’s sugar? My mistake…” She placed it back down on the counter, simpering sweetly.

Alice frowned. That seemed typical, yes, but was Queenie so careless? Pansy seemed satisfied with this result, however, and doesn’t delay any further. Alice hurried to her cooking station. Everything she needed was here—a selection of labelled apples, flour, an oven and fridge—but there was one thing she was more concerned about. She could hear Taylor speaking to the audience, now, but where was the sugar Queenie had placed? There…

“All right, get ready—”

Alice licked her finger, dipping it in the sugar and tasting it. That wasn’t right, it was—

“—your time starts now!”

Salt.

Time had already started, and Alice looked around frantically to see if she had any actual sugar. To her relief, she still had a whole pot of brown sugar, and her own pot of salt. But Queenie’s sleight of hand had still delayed her start. She got to work, glancing at her hastily scrawled recipe from yesterday evening. Apples first, they had to sit for ages, then dough, which also needed to sit—but before that, preheating the oven. It wasn’t something she ever remembered when cooking for herself, but right now she needed every advantage she could get.

Alice then made the mistake of looking over at Queenie’s workstation. She was midway through peeling her apples and waved cheekily with her knife. Alice fumbled for the Braeburn. She needed a peeler, and the sugar and spices, and . . .

---

||Previous|| - ||Next||

#(tomorrow's post might be ................... late i have somewhere to be today which leaves less time for typing up)#Drabble #Custard #Pansy #Taylor #Queenie

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nannercoco · 1 year

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fun with vocaloid! LYRICS: Top of the list and first in line 'Cause apparently I am a walking crime Yeah they hate that they ain't me They want a bite See no price on the menu and don't think twice

They can't afford what I am dishing out No, they can't afford what I am dishing out

They really hoped they could dine and dash That nobody would notice the check won't cash Now they've got indigestion They ate too fast Make your heart burn Your gut churn Don't lie now You earned it

They can't afford what I am dishing out No, no, no, they can't afford what I am dishing out

Every night I go to sleep and there inside my dreams I see a world where everyone knows it's a two-way street But then I wake up with a headache on the chopping block No matter how you slice it they just wanna see me gone, gone, gone, gone

I won't give 'em what want They can pry it from my dead hands Empty just like their promises Down on the ground they know where I stand

I won't give 'em what they want It's not a matter of if I can Compromise went out the window It was never within their plans

Nobody thought to warn them 'bout me (The best mistake you won't make twice) Cuffed my wrists but didn't check my sleeves They came for sugar and they got spice

Better bet that I'll burn All the way down the hatch Bitter and salty too Flavor overload

#original music #music #cocoart #mim #midnight in monochrome #kelenco

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istherewifiinhell · 2 years

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Tumblr users wifi's Chicken Pot Pie Recipe

Sort of anyway. due to my cooking method the following probably bridges the distance between old timey recipes where the author tells you to take a good amount of almonds and your just supposed to know what that means. and a very online much too conversational approach to instructions. fantastic

Frankly just picking a recipe and doing some freestyling on it is my method. And so my ingredients list is a general idea and if you want the explainers they are after that. and if you for some reason want my directions, which I do not recommend if you need real guidance and not just tips, those are last.

The suggested amounts may make you too much filling for an average pie crust. I do not consider this a problem.

Ingredients Filling

Chicken (or your choice) 1 Pound Onion 1 large. Sliced or diced. (adjust for how much you like onion and how long you like to cook em. caramelized will shrink) Carrot. 1 cup. Freestyle cut. I mince but maybe you cut circles Mushroom. 1 or more cups, again were adjusting for cook time shrinkage. I just cut them last and go until the pile looks right in proportion to other ingredients Potato. I'd love to give u a list of fancy potatoes, but its yukon gold all day every day here. i use one to two depending on size. Garlic. 3 cloves… Heavy scare quotes. I don't want to tell you 6 so then you do 12 okay. just. whatever you want. Ginger, while we're at it, if you like. shout out to garlic ginger paste havers Flour. just to coat the meat and veg, or you could thicken the sauce with cornstarch or other thickener. oh. oil or butter. whatever. pan grease of choice

Spice zone: (no measurements? yeah i know. see digression)

Chicken stock. You have bullion powder or cubes or a jar probably. good. me too. just add to your level of preferred salt and chicken-y goodness. or beefy or porky or veggy. Salt and pepper. you know this one. paprika. dont even. whatever you have. smoked is delicious, ive never had the hungarian stuff okay. oregano cumin turmeric. or saffron if ur rich, or bootleged ur own crocuses. leave out if you hate yellow (ur risk of staining something is probably high) chili powder (reference which paprika you used) ground coriander seed cinnamon or all-spice literally whatever you want. you want a curry pie. make that. you want piripiri pie. go for it. five spice. shichimi togarashi. whatever.

Crust

Enough for top and bottom of your pie. you can find many recipes. in general it will be something like 1 cup solid fat (butter lard shortening or margarine) 2-3 cups flour (pastry, all purpose, whole wheat. whatever. if your doing gluten free look into that) sugar and salt if you want. dried herbs if you really want cold water. a few spoonfuls you can fuck around with leavening even but ehhh

Ingredients Digression: search your heart, and your fridge

Chicken: Thigh would be my preference of course but someone has to eat all the white meat and sometimes that person is you. or maybe you have a rotisserie chicken from the grocery store. or maybe your gonna use beef or pork. thats fine. im not your boss. use meat substitute for all i care. The package we got on sale is some .950 kilos, and that clearly too much. so lets say .425 kg. Or just around 1 pound if you prefer.

Veg: Yeah I love mushrooms and I'm gonna put them in everything. Brown or white cap is common, portabello would be extra. Oyster mushroom would be delicious. Shiitake I don't like, and if you ever meet someone who would use enoki in this, have em call me I'd love to hear how that went. You dont like any of these, then don't add em. Leek, celery, peas, and corn all seem like fine choices to me. Any veg you like if it can handle the bake time. I don't ever recommend baking peppers but live ur bliss. As for measurements. I'm not actually using a cup. I just make piles on my cutting board and when i run out of room use regular eating bowls.

Spice zone: If you would like pot pie with just a bit more kick, stick to the paprika chili and cumin. If you wanna go full bananas, you could do a teaspoon of every spice you like. probably not the salt if your stock has salt tho. Keep in mind your own preferences. I don't measure. good luck. really think using spices as what they're for, which is coating and seasoning the food. it should colour the meal but if you can no longer see it you've probably gone to far. Taste and tweak as much as you like.

Pie crust and tin: use your favourite pie crust recipe. or not. or store bought is in fact fine. you just need enough for whatever tin your gonna use. A round tin is traditional and recommended. 18-25cm/7-10 in diameter range. A 4-7 cm/1-3 in deep. depending on size and shape of you hands, bigger than your hand splayed and no deeper than your finger... probably.

Directions: For the Desperate and Bored

Pie crust: Cut up solid fat. Work in flour (and other ingredients) till its all crumbley. looks like sand, breadcrumb etc. Should be a bit dry. Add cold water to bind it in a dough. Add this gradually, u do not want it sloppy style okay? You can do this with your hands, a food processor. Probably not a blender thought who knows. Maybe you put it in a couple layers of freezer bags and stomp on it. All good.

Make it to a ball, or lump shape, and put it in the fridge to firm up. Unless that would impede you ability to work the dough too much.

Rolling it out, or not? Here's the thing. You can just take the warm dough and pat it into you pie tin like graham cracker crust for cheese cakes. Just really compact it and get it up the sides of your tin. Don't say I never gave you anything.

The top crust would be more challenging to not roll out, but you could probably do the same with a greased or lined plate, leave both to chill in freezer. When time to fill, flop it on top of the filled pie, and let it warm up again to seal the pie edges.

If you roll it out. Flour your work surface. Pat the dough flat a bit, roll it out, turn the dough as you go to keep it even. Use you pie tin to check the size. Bottom crust needs to be bigger by how deep the pan is all around.

(See filling directions)

You could blind bake the bottom if you want. Stab the bottom crust with a fork a bunch to prevent bubbles. Either way. Filling goes into bottom crust. Pie lid on top of filling. Press or crimp the edges to seal it.

This is where the size of pan and amount of filling comes up. Make it as tall as you feel comfortable with/physics allow. Any left over filling can be eaten. If you did it right you, personally, will find it delicious. Also pies can take a long time and you might need the snack. Vent the lid (stab the crust. patterns welcome. left over dough can be used as decoration or as smaller pies for a fractal and recursive baking process)

Cooking Directions: Keep in mind the level of doneness you want for each veg, add to the pan in that order. Frozen peas and corn or whatever are going last if you want them in any way intact. If you want to reduce dishes use a real big pan or pot with a lot of bottom surface area My order: OIL UP THAT PAN. i want my veg saute'd not steamed okay? onions first. cook till a little less than you like. garlic and ginger (or any other seasoning paste if your using). you want aromatic not crispy. seriously if it looking ever a little too toasty take of the burner and add the next things and stir a bunch. burnt onions and garlic will ruin your whole meal carrots and mushrooms meat. if you dont want to transfer things out of the pan just push it to the side, watch out to not burn the bottom of that either, ur just moving the two different piles of stuff. you can season the meat before you cook it if you want but im not sure it matters. get to cooking the outside of the meat.. it will fully cook in the simmering sauce (If using Pre-Cooked meat add later) potato. again. cooking in the sauce sprinkle the flour on now and coat everything (i almost always forget this step so if you do thats fine. where just gonna thicken the sauce later) time to go to the spice zone. Add your liquids. Stock, or water with bouillon. some dairy product if you want. if you forgot the flour mix a little with the liquid and make a paste. and add more liquid and stir. add to pan I mean you could also do it by making a roux or bechemal. but its all really the same thing. You can simmer the sauce if you want more cooking time for your filling. (I would add pre-cooked meat and frozen peas or corn here, Stir!) Check for taste and tweak seasoning. It can be a little stronger than you like cause its going it mostly plain pastry.

BAKE IT. We're looking for good crust quality here. also additional cook time if any ingredients need more time to finish. depending on oven and pie size could be 20 mins to like. hour plus. i dunno

let rest before serving or whatever.

#some shit #okay here it is. im sick of editing it so. have at.#baking. chaos style.#okay to rb

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vengefulcooking · 6 days

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Made a sweet n sour curry variation— it was meant to be a pineapple chicken, but I had a few missing ingredients (namely uh the chicken) and so I played around with it a bit.

No chicken to coat and cook, so instead I threw in boiled potatoes and sweet potato. I'm really becoming the boil 'em, mash 'em, stick 'em in a stew potion concocter, eh! But I'm moving next week, so this was less of a 'let's go get ingredients!' thing, and more of a chance to use up what's in the fridge so I have to carry and move less stuff.

So we made the sauce as is:

Base:

Sauté chopped onions: heat them in oil on low heat until they're a bit soft

Add spices to it: garlic powder, whatever else your heart fancies in small doses: I used some cinnamon powder and some cayenne. Your salts and peppers.

The sweet n sour bit of the sauce:

Pineapple juice (loads), brown (or w/e) sugar, vinegar, soy sauce (all in equal quantities) and some flour (about half of the sugar, etc.). Technically, the recipe called for cornflour, but if you give it a good five minutes to cook properly, flour is okay.

I also used some of the sweet potato boiling water because it's also kinda sweet and I didn't have as much pineapple. Chicken broth would also do, but like I said. No chicken in my fridge rn.

Keep whisking as you add each bit in so you get an actual sauce without lumps of flour/sugar or stuff settling in layers.

Pro tip: if the flour is the last thing you add, you can taste the proportions as you add stuff. Too sweet? Add more soy. Too much vinegar? More of everything, sorry, you're fucked

Cooking:

Into the base of sautéd onions, add the boiled (and cut, because I'm not a heathen) vegetables: for me it was potatoes and sweet potatoes, but I also had some frozen veg so that went in. Bell peppers n stuff is lovely with this. My pot's (potatoes; this did not look like I thought it would in my head) were soft enough from boiling so honestly I sort of ended up just coating them.

Then add in the sauce, keep stirring, add more broth of choice if you like. If you've got too much pineapple sweetness, then actually do add non-sweet broth. How much is really you vibing it and sizing up your onions: the minute you've got too much water and not enough onion, you will taste the water; the unfortunate truth of cooking is that water is cool, but water is not food. If you want more quantity of food, you uh, need more quantity of food (this was for me, I am bad at proportions).

If you'd like a thicker, more jam-like texture, then firstly the stickiness of pineapple juice from a pineapple helps with that (I got one of those pre-cut ones from the grocer's, they tend to release juice over time). Secondly, go for less liquid, but also remember to account for the fact that some will evaporate because you're cooking.

Sorry if you're smarter than this; if you check the premises of this blog (pinned post) this is basically cooking for dummies. For idiots. For vengeful, low-skilled bastards that want to make something so good, it makes everyone in their life who has doubted their cooking re-think their whole life so far. Such idiots are often so focused on the revenge part of this dish that we forget little details. Like. Water boils when you heat it and then there's less water.

I ended up also adding a finishing sweet and sour (possibly Thai; I can't remember bc it is 2 am) sauce I was enticed to buy at the grocer's even though it was 10 days before I move house. How we all fall. So anyway, I must use the sauce, and in lieu of just coating cooked chicken/shrimp/other meat or veg, I just kinda threw it into the sauce.

Again, this is all optional because it's cupboard-emptying stuff, but I threw in some flax seeds on top, and honestly, when serving, I have also enjoyed it with a dollop of mayonnaise and a small cut of a cheddar cheese slice, but I don't really think using mayo in everyday cooking is a great idea? But also, I had soft-boiled eggs, which also did a fantastic and really fancy-looking job of drizzling into the stew at the very end ('plating', if I may be so bold (<- sucks at plating)). That's vengeful cooking, baby!

And of course, me being me, I finished it with rice. My whole existence is stews for rices. I bought a 3 kg pack of rice because it was 1) long grain (my mum nods in approval) and on discount. But. 10 DAYS BEFORE I MOVE. So yeah, rice bonanza. I am having so much rice. Living a real regal life out here.

And that's the dish! Revenge may be best served cold but please for the love of god have this while it's still hot and mmm so yummy.

Pics tomorrow maybe (though it'll be of a reheat) because it was mmm so yummy that I never took a picture.

(Quick rice tip: water : rice 2:1, + maybe a quarter glass of water extra to keep it from burning if anything fucks up, 18 mins on the timer, start at high heat, when you hear the boiling, turn it down to medium (that's like a 5 on a numbered stove, think 6 o'clock) and then just taste and monitor when you've got around 4 mins left. People say rice is hard, please, rice loves you and it's very easy give it a chance.)

Update:

With some sesame sprinkled because why not. Extra flavour. Lovely eh?

#cooking #vengeful cooking #food #recipes #sort of #sweet n sour #stew #stew <3 #rice

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eternallyother · 2 years

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meowdy! could i get a pastry/dessert recipe for a siberian tiger therian? been itching to do some baking! id also like to thank mod angel for the kind words in response to my previous positivity request; the picture was surprisingly soothing. thanks in advance for the recipe! have a lovely day ^^ -💌🐯

I'm very glad that the positivity helped you! I hope you enjoy your recipes as well! I went for more wintery inspired ones to match the kind of stuff I'd make if it were snowy out!

Apple Pie Dump Cake

Foreword: This is like, super super simple and you can really make it however you like. I chose to go for a more "apple pie" feel to it, but you can swap out the filling for whatever you prefer, and the cake mix to match! You could even make your filling home made! I just went with canned in order to make it simple and accessible.

Ingredients:

1 Box of Spice Cake Mix

1-2 Cans of Apple Pie Filling (depending on what size of dish you're using)

1 Stick of Butter

(Optional) Vanilla Ice Cream

Instructions:

Preheat your oven to 325°F (or 126.77°C.)

Dump your pie filling into a baking dish (ungreased).

Evenly pour the cake mix over the top.

Slice your stick of butter into slices and place them on top od the cake mix.

DO NOT MIX.

Bake for 65-75 minutes or until a toothpick comes out clean.

Optionally serve with vanilla ice cream and enjoy!

3 Ingredient Peanut Butter Cookies

Foreword: These are so easy to make, and so good. If you bake them for the longer suggested baking time, they turn out more crunchy and crumbly, but if you bake em for the shorter suggested baking time, they're more gooey and soft. Up to your preference! Also note that the 1/2 cup crunchy peanut butter can be swapped for creamy if you don't like the texture of crunchy.

Ingredients:

1/2 Cup Creamy Peanut Butter

1/2 Cup Crunchy Peanut Butter

1 Egg

1 Cup Caster/Granulated Sugar

Instructions:

Preheat oven to 350°F (or 176.66° C).

Mix your peanut butter, egg, and sugar together.

Line a baking sheet with parchment paper or a silicon baking mat.

Spoon your mixture into balls. Optionally, you can roll the dough balls in more caster sugar.

Place your dough balls on your baking sheet about an inch or two apart.

Use a fork to gently press the tops of the balls into a criss cross pattern.

Bake for 12-14 minutes depending on your preferred consistency!

Mod Angel

#mod angel #otherkin #otherhearted #alterhuman #therianthropy #therian #siberian tiger therian #tiger therian #siberiantigerkin #tigerkin #kin help #kin recipes #💌🐯

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wiccamoody · 3 years

Text

sam loves to cook. he learned how from pestering his mom in the kitchen growing up, wanting desperately to know how she managed to put so much love and goodness into her food.

"you gotta do it with purpose, sammy," she'd say. "with care. you gotta care about it. it's not enough to just go through the motions. sure it'll get food on the table and taste good, but it won't turn out how you think it will."

she'd rest a careful hand on his as she showed him how to properly use a knife, how to curl his fingers in when slicing vegetables. they'd share soft smiles when he'd pass her the cumin, or sprinkle sugar into tomato sauce. the first time sam cooked the family dinner all on his own, no one stepping foot into the kitchen until he was done, he'd added a little too much salt but no one cared because the meal was delicious and shrouded in so much love and care.

"i wish i could cook for you," sam would say to riley, and then steve. he got to cook for steve, once when they were all so sick of takeout, and it became a whole affair when he saw how lacking for ingredients the avengers compound was ("you guys don't even have garlic powder, what the fuck?"). he'd dragged steve to the nearest grocery store, pulled him through aisle after aisle, explaining this spice or that herb or this way to prepare beef and no steve we are absolutely not boiling any veggies tonight. in the end, steve said it was by far the best meal he's ever had, but sam brushed him off as just being nice and because the man hardly knew his way past a k-ration.

sam's confident, no denying that, but cooking - he holds it close to his heart. he knows he's good at it, but feels that creeping sense of imposter syndrome when he does it for someone he loves because that's exactly why it's so important to him.

one morning, when bucky's in delacroix with him, sam makes breakfast. sarah left early, a piece of toast between her teeth and a muffled goodbye as she ran off to a meeting. she didn't mind sam cooking, encouraged it in fact, but hated him in her kitchen because he'd move things around, sometimes on purpose just to fuck with her. but on this morning he makes breakfast, phone docked to a speaker playing his 'soft songs' playlist, and he sings quietly to himself as he whips eggs and puts bacon in the oven, and glances at bucky waking up on the couch, and smiles to himself.

the boys get up right as sam is flicking off the stove, bleary-eyed from sleeping in but excitable enough to try and convince sam and bucky to play video games with them all day (sam doesn't make any promises, but he doesn't say no either - he wants to be the favourite uncle and not get in shit with his sister). the boys load their plates with omelette and bacon and toast and fruit, and once they've headed off to eat in front of the tv sam calls bucky out for staring at him again.

"i don't like eggs," bucky says, like that's a normal thing to reply to the person who made you breakfast.

"wow, man."

"no one cooked em right," bucky continues like sam hadn't said anything. "never had an egg i liked until today. probably the best breakfast i've ever eaten, actually."

"you sure have a funny way of complimenting me," was all sam could say, face feeling hot and he could swear bucky went pink at his words.

none of that mattered, though, because a month into them actually dating, sam cooked for him. he put on his secret 'bucky mix' playlist and got into the groove, spending hours in the kitchen making sure everything turned out just right.

"no one makes food like you do," bucky tells him. sam bites his lip, looks away. ducks his head as bucky reaches across the table to take his hand.

"it's 'cause i love you." and it's the first time sam tells bucky he loves him, over a meal that, yes was prepared meticulously, but really out of love and for love.

#this got long oops #ill manifest this into a fic one day but for now hc post lol #sam wilson #sambucky #this is a ramble

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strawberrywindow · 2 years

Note

oh! for the art suggestion thing without the palettes! maybe something from kill bill in sugar spice i like em sliced?

digital art is hard but i am determined to improve 😭

thank you for the ask!! fun palette for a fun california mountain snake 🐍

#i'm honestly decently proud of this #needs improvement but i'm ok with this as a starting point #thank you for your patience friend i alwats appreciate your suggestions ❤#kill bill #california mountain snake #quentin tarantino #fan art #my art #also i fucked up the transparemcy cause i saved it wrong 😭#i am not very tech savvy but i'll learn lmao #elle driver #strawberryarts

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chicken-mc-nuggets · 3 years

Note

refreshing lemonade

sugar, spice, i like em sliced

you are one of Us.

vices and virtues

#chicken mc answers

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hermannsthumb · 4 years

Note

Oh could you do baking for the fall prompts?

14. Baking

from autumn fic prompts here

set some ambiguous time after the movie....this one was funnnn

-------------------------------------

The first thing Newt notices when he opens the door to their place is that it smells fucking amazing, like all of autumn wrapped up in one small, cramped apartment; the second, that it’s hot as hell. He manages to unwind his scarf (borrowed off Hermann) from around his neck with one hand without spilling his iced coffee, and calls out to the kitchen, where he can hear pans clattering around, “Hey, dude, you good?”

“Yes,” Hermann says. He sounds frazzled.

It’s not just hot—it’s stifling. Hermann’s lit a fire in the fireplace, and when Newt rounds the corner to the kitchen, he finds that he’s attempting to cram a tray into the oven as well. “You wanna open a window or something?” Newt says. He takes a sip of his coffee. “It feels like a fucking sauna. You’re killing me.”

Hermann ignores him and slams the oven shut. He’s a wreck, Newt realizes when Hermann turns to him; he’s got flour streaked all across his face, smudges all across his little leaf-patterned apron, and his hair is plastered to his forehead with sweat. When Newt popped out two hours ago for a walk, Hermann was slouched over his computer and grumbling away. It’s a shocking change for such a short amount of time. “I—” he says. “What are you doing?”

More silence. Hermann pulls an oven mitt off his hand and scowls. “That article will be the death of me,” he declares.

Earlier in the month, Hermann was invited to contribute a featured article to his favorite dorky STEM magazine—Newt’s not even sure about what, to be honest, but he assumes something with his work on the jaegers—and he’s been equal parts agonizing over and procrastinating it ever since. Newt thinks the procrastinating part might be his fault—one of those pesky drift after-effects, you know, like Newt’s new weird aversion to leaving dirty mugs in the sink, or his sudden proficiency with some advanced mathematics. The article is what Hermann was scowling over when Newt left that afternoon. “Still no luck with it?” Newt says.

“I have…the abstract,” Hermann says.

Newt looks to the counter. On it, amidst the wreckage of all their baking supplies, and what appears to be orange smears of canned pumpkin, are a series of unevenly-sized and unevenly-baked small pies. There must be at least two dozen. Possibly more. “Hoooo-lee shit, dude,” Newt says. “I didn’t know you…stress-baked. What are we supposed to do with all those?” Newt loves junk food, but even he finds the prospect of cleaning out even a quarter of these to be daunting. They could give some to the neighbors, maybe, as an apology for their loud three-in-the-morning arguments. Or feed them to birds. Do birds like pumpkin?

“Throw them out them out with the bloody rubbish, what do I care?” Hermann snaps. “I read online this was meant to be calming. I don’t feel particularly calm.” He grits his teeth. “I feel, in fact, quite the opposite.”

Newt picks up one of the decently cooled pies and bites into it. It’s pretty good, for the most part. “Could use more spice,” he says, then, at the look on Hermann’s face, quickly amends, “is what I would say if they weren’t perfect.” He sets the pie down. “Do you want…help?”

“With what?” Hermann says.

“The article?” Newt says. “Or baking? If you have crust left, I know a mean recipe for an apple pie my dad used to make this time of year. From my grandma, or something like that. German,” he adds, knowing Hermann’s weird brand of food snobbery when it comes to the Old Country, which includes—but is not limited to—beer, dishes that involve the use of potatoes, and most desserts.

This softens Hermann up. “Hm,” he says. “Yes, the leftover crust is in the refrigerator—do we have enough apples?”

Newt inspects the netted produce bag hanging on the edge of a cupboard. “Just enough,” he says. He pulls out the remainder of their apple stock. “Add ‘em to the grocery list for later, though. Can you get me—” He hums thoughtfully. “Cinnamon, nutmeg, brown sugar…”

They work together easily, as they often do these days, moving around each other in one fluid motion. Newt peels the apples, and eats half the skins; Hermann cuts them up, and eats half the slices; they cook what survives in a little pot on the stovetop with the appropriate amount of spices, and soon the kitchen is smelling even better than before. “Do you want to do the assembly part?” Newt says, as Hermann stirs the pot. “I’ll look over your article for you. Second pair of eyes, and all that shit.”

Hermann allows him a small smile. “I suppose—if you wouldn’t mind terribly—”

“Not at all,” Newt says. He snags anther one of the miniature pumpkin pies and kisses Hermann’s cheek, enjoying how Hermann blushes and ducks his head in response. It’s so easy to rile him up, it’s kinda adorable. “Add a little more corn starch if you want it thicker.” He bites off half the pie, and adds through a mouthful of crumbs, “And crack a fucking window already. I’m sweating.”

Hermann does, so Newt—in compromise—tosses another log on the fireplace and settles into their living room couch. Away from the hot, hot kitchen, Newt almost feels comfortable. He bypasses the password on Hermann’s laptop easily and pulls up the article. There’s a significant amount more finished than just the abstract like Hermann said, at least. He crams the remaining half the pie into his mouth and dives in.

Newt edits, and Hermann assembles the pie, and—by the time the last batch of Hermann’s pumpkin pies have finished up—Hermann is sliding the apple pie into the oven and Newt is shutting the laptop. “Done!” Newt calls to him. “What you’ve got so far is good, I don’t know why you’re so worried. They’re gonna love it. Obviously it wasn’t perfect, though, so, you know, I had to make some changes. You can thank me later.”

Hermann emerges from the kitchen doorway, red-faced, a sag to his shoulders, and leaning heavily on his cane, but looking satisfied. “I’m finished as well,” he says. He unties his dumb apron with one hand and tosses it onto a clean spot of counter. Somehow he managed to get pumpkin on his sweatervest under it. “It’ll be—oh—twenty minutes?”

There’s a hell of a mess to clean up in there, but Newt only has three things in mind: the way sweat has curled the edges of Hermann’s hair, the flour still in patches across his face, and how shy he’d been when Newt gave him that little kiss in the kitchen. Newt tosses the laptop to the side and grins at him. “Plenty of time to make out,” he says. He pats the couch cushion next to him. “C’mere.”

“So long as it doesn’t burn,” Hermann tells him sternly, but he’s smiling when he takes Newt’s hand.

#newmann #maria's fanfiction tag #Anonymous

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seerofmike · 4 years

Text

Sharing

pairing: cryptane / miroctane / cryptoxoctanexmirage word count: 2,835 rating: t tags: polyamory, jealousy, birthday fluff, humor summary: Elliott and Taejoon are both dating Octavio, and won't stop competing with each other—especially today, on his birthday.

@apex-rarepairweek

today’s prompt is jealousy! though its less jealousy and more ‘crypto and mirage trying to one-up each other’ LMAO. also this is not cryptage, crypto is dating octane and mirage is also dating octane but they are not dating each other. :3c enjoy!

reblogs>>>likes! i read all the tags in reblogs! <3

read on ao3

read below

Octavio loved attention.

Loved the soft kisses his boyfriends pressed to the insides of his thighs or the highest points of his cheeks, loved the way their hands ran down his back or across his stomach, touches gentle. Loved it when they teased him or tended to him or hyped him up for his stunts, Elliott in that big dorky way of his and Taejoon in his much subtler, but still chaos-enabling, way.

All attention was good attention, to Octavio—he couldn’t bear to be ignored, so he often made a nuisance of himself whenever they were busy. Wrapped his arms around Taejoon’s neck whenever he was doing his Hackerman™ thing, drummed Elliott’s workbench with wrenches when he was working on something, constantly told them ‘watch this!’ in the Games whenever they were on a squad together because he wanted them to look at him.

It didn’t matter if their attention came in the form of Taejoon snapping at him, or Elliott swiping his wrenches back, clearly annoyed. It was attention, and he loved it.

And he especially loved this kind of attention—the jealous kind.

It was his birthday today, turning twenty-five, ‘a big age’, according to Elliott, and Taejoon had scoffed ‘you would know, wouldn’t you, old man?’ which had resulted in indignant sputtering from Elliott, mumbling something about ‘thirty-one’ and ‘bullying’.

The three of them rarely spent the night together; it was usually just Octavio and Elliott or Octavio and Taejoon, as the two men couldn’t really stand each other, and he usually didn’t mind.

But you know what was better and more exciting than just one boyfriend? Two. So they had compromised for his sake and spent the night on either side of him, touching him in the way he liked and massaging the nubs of his thighs. It had been really fucking hot and sweaty, but hey! He got to wake up and see both their stupid sleepy faces, so he loved it.

Octavio could tell that today was going to be different, though. He had fallen back asleep in Elliott’s arms (at one point in the night, he had hogged Octavio all to himself), but when he woke up again three hours later, the bed was empty and cold.

Glaring up at the ceiling at the realization that he had been left alone on his birthday, Octavio was just picking up his phone to type an aggravated message when someone entered the room. He then let his phone drop onto his chest when he saw just who (and what) it was; Taejoon, holding a box of sweet-smelling donuts.

“Ay, cariño, you didn’t have to,” he cooed, but internally he was going FUCK YEAH this is what birthdays are ABOUT. “Glazed and-?”

“Maple,” Taejoon said, and fuck, he loved this man. He knew the other didn’t particularly care for donuts, but he’d gone out of his way to get this whole-ass box just for him. “Saengil chukahae.”

Octavio flipped it open, seeing six freshly-made donuts awaiting him. He could feel the heat beneath his fingers through the box, could see that the glaze was still melting on the dough, and was just about to pick one up and eat it right there in bed when Elliott burst through the door.

“Ha-ppy birth-day!” Elliott announced, punctuating each syllable with a wave of the spatula in his hand, though he quickly froze when he saw them both. “What’s going on here?”

“‘Joon got me breakfast!” Octavio said enthusiastically, lifting the box up. He watched Elliott’s eyes narrow, and noticed that the man was wearing a ‘Kiss the Cook’ apron that he definitely didn’t own. "What's up?"

“I made breakfast,” Elliott said, sounding miffed. “Omelettes with peppers in ‘em. Just the way you like.”

Octavio perked up somehow even more at this news. “You did?”

“I did,” Elliott said sweetly, before his tone jumped right back into accusing. “And this guy knew I was going to!”

“I already told you that I was getting breakfast,” Taejoon said coolly, putting his hands in his pockets. “So I assumed that you would have stopped in your preparations. Evidently, I was wrong.”

“A home-made breakfast is better than any of this junk!” Elliott said, putting his hand on his hip and pointing his spatula at Taejoon’s nose. The other man didn’t even flinch. “I was even nice enough to make you an omelette. Now c’mon, babe, let’s eat.”

Octavio stood up with the box of donuts, but Elliott added, “And leave that shit in here.”

“Why can’t I just eat both?” Octavio asked, raising an eyebrow, and Elliott’s face flushed red.

“B-because—all that sugar—it’s not gonna taste good with the omelettes, okay?”

“It is his birthday,” Taejoon said shortly, pushing out of the room. “Let him decide for himself.”

Elliott huffed, flipping his hair out of his face as he turned on his heel and stalked out of the room as well, probably to berate Taejoon some more. Octavio watched him leave with wide eyes, before a grin split his face. Oh, today was going to be fun.

Octavio solved the breakfast problem by tearing a maple donut into chunks and dipping it into the hot chocolate he’d been provided after every bite of his omelette. The sweet and savory flavor of the donut mixed with the salt and spice of the omelette, and it made for a pretty exciting breakfast experience—made even better by the fact that Taejoon and Elliott were glaring at each other on opposite ends of the table.

After breakfast Octavio sat back in his seat and asked, “What'd you guys plan for today?”

“I was thinking that—” Elliott began, at the same time Taejoon mumbled, “I brought—”

They both stopped speaking, and when neither said anything for a while, Elliott spoke loudly.

“Well, I wanted to take you out to dinner. Without Park.”

“And I,” Taejoon said, emphasizing each word with a slice of his knife through his omelette. “Brought a movie for us to watch. Without Witt.”

“You could watch a movie any old time,” Elliott said, and Octavio glanced between them both. “I got us a reservation at the Sky Plate. The Sky Plate! Do you know how expensive that place is?”

“Well, I did not feel the need to flaunt my wealth in order to do something with Octavio today,” Taejoon said, snide.

“But what’s so fun about watching a movie?”

“He doesn’t even like half the food they serve at that establishment.”

“Well, how do you know?!”

“Because he is allergic,” Taejoon stressed, and there was a triumphant sort of edge to his voice. “To shellfish.”

Elliott’s mouth dropped open, eyes wide, and Octavio was amused to see the deep red flush rising from his throat and into his cheeks. His boyfriend was then looking over at him, eyebrows drawn up as he kept gaping like a fish.

“I totally forgot,” he eventually said, and Octavio saw Taejoon smirk out of the corner of his eye. “I-I can cancel it, don’t worry! I can make a different resoir...rev...resser—”

“Chill, babe,” Octavio said, and Elliott’s mouth snapped shut. “People tell me they’ve got good desserts. I’ll find something to eat.”

“You sure?” Elliott asked, worried, and Octavio nodded eagerly, because while he wasn’t much of a fine-dining person, he knew that with Elliott it couldn’t be boring.

When they stood up from the table Taejoon seemed displeased for some reason, and walked away without saying much else. Curious, Octavio wandered after him as Elliott cleaned up, and found his boyfriend sitting on the couch and typing on his phone.

“Whatcha doin’?” Octavio asked, leaning over the back of it to rest his chin on Taejoon’s shoulder.

“Checking the train times,” he said stiffly.

“Awww, why?”

“I don’t want to intrude on your dinner with Witt.”

Octavio blinked, before slinging his arm over the couch as well and grabbing Taejoon’s chin, turning his head to face him. “Y’know dinner isn’t for a while, right?”

Taejoon didn’t say anything, so Octavio braced his arms against the back of the couch before flipping himself over it, managing to land his ass on the cushions without falling off.

“Don’t be like thattttt,” Octavio whined, because he didn’t want him to leave. Elliott was great and all, but why settle for great when you could go for fantastic? Taejoon being here, vying for his attention and pampering him was ten times better than just Elliott doing all that. He wanted them both here.

“I wanna watch that movie with you,” Octavio said, sliding his hand over Taejoon’s chest and taking delight in the way he bit on his lower lip. “Por favor?”

“...Fine,” his boyfriend eventually sighed, and he got up to go rifle through the overnight bag he’d brought. Octavio sat upside-down on the couch as he listened to the sounds of Elliott loading the dishwasher, and when the man himself eventually stepped into the living room he smiled at Octavio and said,

“You ready?”

“It’s not even dinner,” he pointed out.

“Yeah, but I thought we could—”

“Your reservation isn’t until six, Witt,” Taejoon said, stalking around him with a DVD in hand. “Let us watch this film.”

“How do you know when my reservation is?” Elliott yelped, scandalized. “What the hell?”

Taejoon didn’t answer, and Octavio cackled at the look on Elliott’s face. Both of his boyfriends eventually reached a silent agreement to tolerate each other as they all settled on the couch, Octavio sitting between them.

For once he was lucky that his couch wasn’t very big; both men were sitting on opposite ends of it, but thanks to its short length, he was able to lay himself across both of their laps. He took off his legs and rested his thighs in Elliott’s lap as he leaned against Taejoon, feeling the other man rub his fingers soothingly over the bare skin of his hip.

The movie was pretty cool; a thrilling zombie adventure taking place on a train, though the build-up was rather slow and Octavio found his mind drifting elsewhere multiple times.

Soon enough it got exciting, and he found himself invested in the story, trying to read the subtitles as quickly as they popped onto the screen, but about halfway through the movie, he felt something warm against the back of his neck, and shivered.

Turning his head to see what the deal was, Taejoon kissed him again before he could speak, this time on his jaw, right beneath his ear. Shivering again, Octavio tilted his head, allowing his boyfriend to suck kisses into the sensitive skin of his neck as the movie progressed.

By the time all the action was happening—a dude was punching zombies—Octavio was hardly paying attention, Taejoon’s fingers tracing themselves deliciously across the skin of abdomen, feather-light and stomach fluttering in response, ticklish.

He reached behind him to grab the collar of Taejoon’s v-neck and pulled him lower, grinning against his lips before kissing him, rough and biting, just how he liked it. Taejoon moaned into his mouth, quiet, but the other man sitting with them apparently heard it.

“Whoa,” he heard Elliott say, and then a calloused hand was placed on his thigh. “I thought we were watching a movie?”

“Mhm,” Octavio hummed, and made a little ‘come here’ motion with his hand, mouth too occupied with Taejoon to do much else. It was a clear invite to come and kiss him, touch him, stroke all the places he liked—and he was rewarded with Elliott scooting just a little bit further down the couch to do just that, leaning close to get his attention.

Octavio turned his head and let Elliott pull him in for a much sweeter kiss, his beard tickling him as he did so, and his body felt so warm everywhere as Taejoon held him in his arms. His legs were spread, Elliott's fingers digging into the skin of his thighs as he kissed him in that uniquely Elliott way of his his.

But then the spell was broken as he was suddenly shoved off of Taejoon, and he gave a squawk as he hit Elliott’s chest.

“What the fuck was that for?” Octavio said, turning his head to glare at the man, and he saw him fold his arms over his chest and stare sullenly at the TV.

Okay, scratch that. All of this jealousy shit was not going to fly on his motherfucking birthday. How was he to receive attention from both of them if they acted like this whenever the other was giving him some?

Octavio tore himself away from Elliott and let out a huff so that they were both looking at him, raising his voice as he said, “It’s my birthday. Can’t you two get along for once?”

“He’s not—”

“I’m just—”

“Silencio,” Octavio interrupted, and they both looked at him with wide eyes. “Look, normally the whole ‘fighting over me’ thing is hot, but today, I just want you both to share. Is that too much to ask? Eh?”

Neither of them answered. Pissed off now, Octavio stared at the TV screen, not even bothering trying to read the subtitles in the state of anger he was in. Ten minutes passed in silence, and as the characters got into arguments on-screen, Elliott finally said,

“I’m—we’re sorry, Tav.”

“I didn’t mean to make you feel that way,” Taejoon mumbled quietly, hesitant, before he felt the other touch his shoulder lightly. “I’m just not used to...this. Whatever this is.”

“Sharing,” Elliott supplied.

“He is not an item.”

“Yeah but that’s—”

“Shut up,” Octavio advised, and Elliott frowned, but obliged. “It’s whatever. I know you two don’t like each other, I guess.”

“But we can try to get along," Taejoon said firmly, and then his tone got a little sharper. “We are both dating you. Right, Witt?”

“‘Right, Witt’,” Elliott mocked, before pinching himself on the thigh and saying, “Right...Taejoon.”

Octavio looked between the both of them before returning to his previous position, thighs in Elliott’s lap and Taejoon’s arms wrapped around his middle. By the time the movie had ended (his eyes were getting kind of wet, and Elliott was full-on sobbing) it felt like an eternity had passed, but it was only noon.

Octavio got up to use the bathroom, and when he came back the atmosphere in the room wasn’t as stiff as it had been before. Elliott glanced up from where he was checking his reflection in his selfie cam, and said,

“I can change that reservation for a party of three. If you w-want. I’m Mirage, what’re they gonna say? No?”

He expected Taejoon to make some snarky comment in return, but he was surprised when the man said, “That would be nice.”

“Yeah!” Elliott smiled, eyes bright, and Octavio felt his heart do something funny in his chest. Grinning now, he approached them both and asked,

“Sweeeet. Now what’d you guys get me for presents, huh?”

He’d half-meant it as a joke, but he was really curious to see if they’d bought him something or not. Elliott practically jumped from the couch in his haste to get his gift, and when he handed it over to Octavio he was chagrined to see that it was covered in Mirage wrapping paper. It was a very poor wrapping job as well.

Tearing it off (and hearing Elliott complain) Octavio grinned somehow even wider when he saw that it was the new video game he’d mentioned wanting. “Oh shit, gracias!”

“Knew you were lookin’ for something new to play,” Elliott said, obviously proud of himself. “Saw that at the store and went hey, it’s that thing Octavio wants, and—”

Octavio threw his arms around him, and his smooth-talking turned into stuttering as he returned the hug. “A-and then I was like...I have w-wrapping paper left over from Christmas! I can make it all exta...exe..fancy for ya!”

"I love it. Thanks, babe," Octavio said, and felt satisfied when he managed to get the trickster, of all people, to shut up.

Taejoon’s gift wasn’t all wrapped up like Elliott's had been—he simply pulled the thing from his bag, and Octavio gasped when he saw it. It was a stuffed bunny, and it was purple.

“I know you probably meant it as a joke,” Taejoon said sheepishly as he tore the thing from his hands. “But...”

“He’s beautiful,” Octavio whispered, and then kissed the man on his cheek. Much to his delight, Taejoon’s face turned pink and he ran his hand through his hair, flustered.

Octavio looked up at both of his boyfriends before pulling them both down at the same time into a hug. He was really lucky to have them both, even if they argued over him and were jealous and petty and...

Well, that was what made them fun. He wouldn’t really have it any other way.

But just for today, they could learn to share.

#miroctane #cryptane #octane #mirage #crypto #apex legends

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