#savory plates | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

icewindandboringhorror · 1 year

Text

Daily Log 4

Trying out (probably just temporarily) making short daily-ish notes about things, in an attempt to see if it helps me be more reflective or productive lol.

Activities: Woke up late because I went back to sleep with a headache briefly, then kind of struggled to focus all day ToT

Worked more on the aforementioned tapestry/painting type of thing. I've done the base layer of painting for the main image, now I'm lining in darker outlines. I wanted to finish the center art before getting into the intricate borders. Still haven't translated the text lol..

Made a small bowl and also a little box with a lid out of more avocado pits. Still just with random nail cuticle tool things and kitchen knives, as I don't have proper carving tools.

Finished editing and proofreading the new poll adventure post!! I don't have time to post it tonight because I need to get to sleep early but.. I have it Completely 100% Ready.. finally..

Also washed the clothes I got together yesterday. Called about the bloodwork. Sent an email to a doctor.

Reviewed some writing documents to get back into my game maybe?? (basically, I started working on a visual novel type game a few years ago, decided it was a huge project so kind of put it on the backburner for a while in favor of things that were more easily finishable/tangible. then later on a game website I play (similar to neopets or something, there are collectable little creatures, etc.) there was an opportunity for me to design a pet on site, so I made a smaller shorter visual novel centered around that, where people on the site have to play the game in order to earn the pet, and I have a google form for them to answer a few short questions about it. All of the feedback is quite positive (reached 200 responses a while ago! though still only like 4 comments on the itch.io page lol.. Mandatory Form vs. Optional Comments evil showdown), but sometimes I get commentary that's really enthusiastic and inspires me to start back working on the OTHER bigger game. The small game was kind of like, a proof of concept that was safe because I had a guaranteed audience, that has helped me gain more insight for the larger one.

Anyway, since I've abandoned the Main Large Game for so long, I have to re-read and review/probably rewrite A LOT of things just to pick it back up again as A Thing I'm Actively Working On, so it's another one of those tasks that I do maybe 45 minutes of and then realize it's going to take days and days and get discouraged lol..

Notable sights: Saw two cats in windows. No clovers. It rained a little today but I didn't get to go outside and see it. One of the pieces of asparagus in the fridge was like the size of a carrot, comically overgrown downright ridiculous looking asparagus. Maybe I'll get taller after eating it.

Goals moving forward: Consistent sleep schedule. Focus on social activities, finding new friends in the places I want to move, communicating with ones I have. Physical therapy exercises. Plant nasturtiums. Finish and upload videos, edit costume pictures & etc.

Notable foods: ASPARAGUS AGAIN BABEY.. yeaAAAAGHHH asparagus squad !!!!!!

#just posting these publicly since it feels more like I'm doing something or easier to hold yourself accountable if you make public #declarations of goals and progress or etc. .. perhaps.. for now..#I wonder if you can eat too much asparagus. Hopefulyl I don't get sick ghjbj #Still craving lots of savory foods and soups. Also in a big big worldbuilding mood.#Not enough to actually edit the worldbuilding slideshow videos apparently since I've barely done any of that all week #>:Y #(they are different though.. actively writing wolrdbuilding is different from like.. editing recordings of you talking about it #BUT STILL...)#In an ideal world I have a little house in scotland or canada or something and am sitting cozy by a window watching it #rain whilst I eat lasagna and like a huge buffet table of every single hearty food I am having Anemia Cravings for #and my cat is sitting near me and I am furiously sketching various designs for different worldbuilding details. I have finally found #a weird hermit platonic best friend I'm compatible enough to live with and they are up in the attic doing their own weird little hobbies #but every once in a while I can call them down and tell them about an idea so we can bounce concepts off of each other. I somehow walk away #with no heartburn or stomach upset or nausea despite eating 800 plates of craving foods. It's cold and summer #does not exist anymore but not in a Catastrophic For The Earth type of way more in a like.. I am in a magical bubble #that only affects my direct vicinity and sheilds me from the temperature ever getting above 65F #(also I have a comfortable amount of money and good doctors and reasonable health etc. etc. but that's a given in any Ideal Scenario lol)#oughh... I just want to eat hearty breakfast foods and think about elves for 5 hours.. is that so much to ask #Why must... responsibilities... capitalism... limited time and no energy to focus on 100 projects at once... why these things...#ANYWAY #daily log

7 notes · View notes

spikyseasponge · 2 years

Text

Mozzarella Ovoline– torn mozzarella with grilled peaches, mangoes, cherry tomatoes, fresh basil and oregano. I would grill the cherry tomatoes also and add a sprig or two of thyme to this one and *chef’s kiss*

#mozzarella ovoline #cheese plate #mangoes #grilled peaches #summer #recipes #refreshing #light meals #sweet and savory #cherry tomatoes #basil #oregano #grilling #vegitarian #curated

6 notes · View notes

pifindsfood · 5 months

Text

Mushroom Pot Pie with Thyme and Parsnips

Serves 2

Time ~1 hr

Ingredients

1 pie crust

6 ounces cremini mushrooms or mushroom mix

1⁄8 ounce thyme

10 ounces parsnips (sliced lengthwise then into 1/8" half moons)

8 ounces carrots (sliced into 1/8" half moons)

1 yellow onion (1/4" dice)

1⁄4 cup flour

3 packets unsalted butter

1 vegetable bouillon cube (chicken is fine too)

2 tablespoons dry sherry wine or sherry vinegar

1⁄2 teaspoon porcini mushroom powder (or other mushroom powder)

2 ounces heavy cream

1 parchment paper

Instructions

Prepare ingredients. Preheat oven to 400°F. Set pie crust or dough aside to soften at room temperature (see recipe tip). Wipe mushrooms clean with a damp paper towel and cut into 1⁄4-inch slices. Rinse remaining produce. Strip thyme leaves, discarding stems. Halve parsnips and carrots lengthwise, then cut crosswise into 1⁄2-inch half-moons. Peel onion and cut into small dice. Reserve 2 tablespoons flour in a small bowl and set aside for Step 4.

Roast parsnips and carrots. Line a baking sheet with aluminum foil. On prepared sheet, toss parsnips and carrots with 1 tablespoon olive oil, 3⁄4 teaspoon salt, and pepper as desired. Arrange in a single layer and roast until lightly browned and just tender, about 15-20 minutes. They should be an edible texture, as the texture doesn't change much as the pie bakes in the oven.

Roll out dough. While vegetables roast, remove pie crust from tin and roll into a ball. Place parchment paper on a clean, dry surface; sprinkle over remaining flour (not reserved 2 tablespoons), coating a rolling pin or your hands with a thin layer (see recipe tip). Roll or press dough on parchment into a circular shape, about 10-inches in diameter. Use a medium high-sided ovenproof pan to measure the size of dough; trim and discard any excess. Reserve pan for next step.

Sauté mushroom filling. Place pan from dough over medium- high heat and dry fry mushrooms. Then, remove mushrooms and add butter. When butter is foamy, add onion; sauté, stirring, until tender and golden, 8 minutes. Add mushrooms back in halfway through. Add reserved flour; cook, stirring continuously, until flour is lightly browned, 1–2 minutes. Stir in bouillon cube, sherry, mushroom powder, half of thyme, 13⁄4 cups water, and 11⁄2 teaspoons salt. Bring to a boil over high heat, then reduce heat to medium high; cook until reduced by a third, 2–3 minutes more.

Bake mushroom pot pie. Remove pan with mushroom filling from heat; stir in heavy cream and roasted parsnips and carrots to combine. Taste and season with salt and pepper as desired. Cut a 2-inch slit or cross in center of dough for steam to escape. Carefully place dough over mushroom filling in pan. Sprinkle top of dough with 1⁄8 teaspoon salt. Bake until crust is golden brown and cooked through, 15– 20 minutes.

Plate mushroom pot pie. Once baked, allow mushroom pot pie to cool, about 10 minutes. Divide among shallow serving bowls and garnish with remaining thyme. Enjoy!

Note: This is great with the sourdough pie crust recipe found here: https://pifindsfood.tumblr.com/post/711600368157704192/sourdough-pie-crust

Note: If you double the recipe, make sure to roast parsnips and carrots at least 20 min.

#savory #favorite #vegetarian #plated

0 notes

plotography · 6 months

Photo

Sweet and Savory Baked Sausage Patties These breakfast sausages are a tasty addition to your breakfast plate because they are lightly seasoned and slightly sweet. 1 teaspoon finely chopped garlic, 1/4 teaspoon ground paprika, 1 serving cooking spray, 1/2 teaspoon freshly ground black pepper, 1 teaspoon dried marjoram, aluminum foil, 1 teaspoon salt, 1 teaspoon finely chopped fresh parsley, 2 tablespoons maple syrup, 1/4 teaspoon dried thyme, 1 pound lean ground pork

#broil sausage patties #savory baked #sweet #addition #breakfast plate #sausage patties

0 notes

derealizationn · 7 months

Photo

Sweet and Savory Baked Sausage Patties Lightly seasoned with a touch of sweetness, these breakfast sausages are a great addition to your breakfast plate.

#ground pork #sausage patties #savory baked #breakfast plate #sweetness #broil sausage patties

0 notes

revolverfilm · 7 months

Photo

Sweet and Savory Baked Sausage Patties Recipe These breakfast sausages are a tasty addition to your breakfast plate because they are lightly seasoned and slightly sweet.

#sausage patties #breakfast plate #savory baked #sweetness #breakfast sausages #broil sausage patties

0 notes

lovelyghst · 2 months

Text

soft-tummy simon riley save me… cause you cannot look at that man and tell me he doesn’t love to eat!! like, a constant snacker. and his heart absolutely swells when you indulge so heavily in his needs.

it’s practically his love language, to scarf down anything you put on the table in front of him, and you can certainly tell since now he’s not nearly in the same shape as he was when you found him.

he likes to think you’ve fixed him in a way; spending his evenings cuddling in bed for hours on end with you, rather than heading to the gym for the second time that day to burn off dinner. thanking you for the savory meal with kisses all over instead of fighting off the impulse to purge his usual bland chicken breast and vegetables every night.

and it all hits him far, far deeper than just his gut; feeling it in his heart more than the soft layer of fat blanketing his tummy he has to see in the mirror every morning. just the fact that a sweet thing like you wants to take care of him, ensure he eats plentiful yet still healthy for his work, has him whipped. showering him with endless i love you’s and praising him all up and down until his cheeks tint a light, flustered pink and his dick gets achingly hard in his pants.

he won’t pretend the change was easy on him, seeing the clean-cut abs and fit appearance that made him feel young fade away the further you got into your relationship, but he’d also be a filthy liar if he said he didn’t prefer the pros to his current build way more.

simon begins wearing shirts less around the house on his lazy days, at your lovely request of course, and it does feel quite freeing. especially when he’s able to come up behind you in the kitchen, cage you in with his burly arms, bend you over the counter and fuck you senseless because part of the deal was that his shirts would go to you, and with nothing but your lace panties on underneath.

he can’t help but get riled up seeing you walk around like that, and you’re no saint either when you catch a glimpse of his broad chest and relaxed, pillowy belly as he reads the morning newspaper. you tend to drop to your knees and tug at his boxers faster than he can even greet you properly, showing him just how much you love him.

he loves eating you out more than anything, especially with a full tummy after a late meal. you’ll take his and your empty plates to the kitchen to clean up, but you’re being bent over the counter before you can even wipe it down!! and squealing his name in surprise won’t stop him, nor will your giggles as he’s lifting the skirt of your dress to reveal your pretty ass, getting down on his knees and delving right in.

dragging his tongue through your drenched seam, grinning softly against your skin when you jolt and whine out of sensitivity. tongue-fucking your pretty, tight hole only for a moment before he’s returning to messily play with your swollen clit.

and you just know it’s entirely selfish, simon not even paying mind to the way your legs shake and relentlessly convulse and you can barely stay still because his stubble is unceasingly tickling your inner thighs. making you cum until you can’t anymore, and he’s happily forced to carry your numbed, twitchy body to bed so you can catch your breath and rest while he finishes up the chores.

would probably send you off by say something cliché about you being his favorite dessert. he’s so stupid when he’s horny.

simon is weak for when you ride his stomach, with both his hands planted firmly on your hips as you rub your bare pussy back and forth on his hard abdomen. his hidden muscles become more apparent the longer you go at it and the harder he holds you down, little whimpers spilling from your puffy lips as the light hairs coating his tummy create just the perfect amount of friction to your poor, little clit for that hot, familiar sensation in your lower belly to bubble up.

your hands clawing at his chest and shoulders, leaving lines and crescent indents in his skin that soon turn red in their wake, and the pain only turns him on more, his cock excruciatingly hard, long hums of pleasure omitting straight from his throat as he grits his teeth.

“yeah, that’s it, sweetheart—there’s my dirty girl. jus’ keep goin’ for me now, don’t stop… make yourself cum without me touchin’ you down there, ‘nd then i’ll fuck you real nicely after. alright, princess?”

and you soon follow through with just that, nodding decorously with tears welling at your eyes’ waterlines before you’re lurching forward, crying out his name. thighs giving out and fighting to ride out your orgasm, where simon then saves you with his attentive grip on your hips, finishing the job for you rather recklessly.

“good fuckin’ girl… y’did so well for me, love,” and every other gruff, dragged word of praise in his vocabulary echos in your fuzzy mind as you come down from your high.

you’re still catching your breath, fulling laying on his chest by the time he’s inching you backwards whilst taking his hard dick out from his boxers. lifting your weak hips for you as he whispers small, reassuring hushes right by your ear, soothing your winces as he fully sheathes you on his thick cock, inch by fucking inch.

he fucks himself up into you, not daring to make you overwork your body anymore, and he handles you so delicately you could almost fall asleep on his mattress of a body. you crumble to pieces with the vibrations of his chest from his unending groaning, the feeling of his veiny and rough cock stretching and filling you to the brim almost becoming minute compared to the sleepiness washing over you.

“there ya go, pretty… don’t have’ta do any work now, jus’ like i promised, eh?” he coos, and he could feel you smiling against his collarbone. one of his large hands cradles the back of your head while the other gropes at your ass lovingly. “takin’ me just fine, sweet girl.”

you bury your heated face into his squishy pectoral, whining at the overstimulation to your clit at the particular angle, left so utterly sensitive from your prior orgasm. you’re limp in his strong hold, securer than ever as he lifts your hips up and down his thick cock.

he uses your tender cunt ‘til he’s satisfied, groaning right up against your ticklish ear when he empties his hot cum in your throbbing pussy, the perfect thing milking him dry and turning you exhausted.

he actually sits in the moment for a peaceful while, coddling you against his rising and falling chest and murmuring sweet praises, until eventually his disciplined brain kicks in despite your protests.

“don’t go passin’ out on me yet, sweetheart.” you grumble out a refusing noise which makes him laugh softly, but apparently it’s not enough to win him over. “let’s go get you cleaned up, yeah?”

(simon and his size difference & free use kinks go CRAZY in this one. also this instagram reel is so him coded ok bye bye <3 cont.)

#cod mw #simon riley #ghost cod #simon ghost riley #simon riley smut #ghost smut #ghost x reader #simon riley x reader #ghost x female reader #simon riley x female reader

6K notes · View notes

mattotomato · 1 year

Photo

Pork - Sweet and Savory Baked Sausage Patties

#Lightly seasoned with a touch of sweetness #these breakfast sausages are a great addition to your breakfast plate. bulk #savory baked #addition #sausage patties #pork #touch

0 notes

paperultra · 8 months

Text

back of house.

Pairing: OPLA!Vinsmoke Sanji x Fem!Reader Word Count: 1,113 words Warnings: Mild swearing

If it weren’t for his principles regarding women, you’re fairly certain Sanji would’ve throttled and strung you up to dry by now.

“I … I’m impressed, sweetheart,” he says with a bright smile, though under the swinging lights of the kitchen it seems more out of pain than pleasure. “You managed to burn water.”

Your cheeks flame as you peer into the blackened pot with him, all traces of the water you’d been tasked with boiling completely gone. Vanished. You have no idea how or why.

“I’m sorry, Sanji.”

“No need to apologize. Everybody makes mistakes –”

“Sanji!” you hear Zeff before you see him round the corner. “Why the hell do I smell something burning in my kitchen?”

“None of your business, old man,” Sanji snaps immediately, murmuring a quiet excuse me, dear to you before taking the pot by the handle and heading to the sink. He twists the faucet open and running water roars like thunder in your ears as he thrusts the pot underneath. “I have it under control.”

“Under control, eh?" Zeff says. He suddenly turns his squinted gaze upon you, and you shrivel. “This your doing, missy?”

“I –”

“Leave her alone,” Sanji interrupts. “I didn’t give clear enough instructions. It was my fault.”

“Oh, there’s no doubt about that.” Eyeing your guilty and defeated figure next to the stove, Zeff shakes his head with a sigh and points you to the door. “[Y/n], go out and wait tables for the rest of your shift.”

Immediately, you make a move to remove your apron. “Oka –”

Sanji makes a noise of dissent and turns the faucet off. “Wait tables? She can still chop the vegetables and help me plate.”

“You’ll do that yourself. Front of house needs the extra person, anyway.”

“I’m her mentor.”

“And I’m the damn boss.”

The rest of the staff roll their eyes and carry on while the two men argue in the middle of the kitchen. You swallow and take your apron off, balling it up in your hands. This isn’t the first time they’ve butted heads over your incompetence, and watching them now cuts at your last shred of dignity.

Clearing your throat, you grimace when Sanji’s head whips around to look at you.

“Zeff’s right,” you tell him. “Dinner rush is coming up soon and I’ll just be in the way, anyway.”

Zeff grunts with satisfaction.

The expression on Sanji’s face reminds you of a kicked puppy. “But …” he begins to protest.

“Oi, you heard what she said. Get back to work! We have customers waiting!”

Sanji blusters about before heading back to his station, casting you one final, forlorn look as he does so. You imagine that your own face looks just the same when you turn to leave.

—

You take orders and serve customers for the remainder of the day, as promised, and help with cleanup after closing time. And then, long after the sun’s dipped below the horizon, Sanji joins you on the upper deck with a steaming bowl of seafood fried rice.

“For the madam,” he says with a smile, offering you the bowl.

You accept it silently and take a bite as he sits down next to you. It’s perfect like it always is – savory and warm on your tongue, happy and gentle in your stomach. You’ve never known a home quite like Sanji’s cooking.

His eyes remain fixed on you as you eat all of the rice, scraping the bowl for every last grain and setting it down beside you once you’re finished.

“Thank you.”

“It’s nothing. I figured it would cheer you up.”

“It did.”

It did, and yet, your lips tremble and your throat closes up. You clench your hands into fists in your lap.

Sanji’s hand immediately presses your shoulder as you sniffle. “Are you alright?” he questions worriedly.

(His attentiveness strikes you like a hot iron sometimes, even now.)

“Why haven’t you given up on me yet?” you whisper.

His brow furrows. As if it’s obvious, he answers, “You want to be a cook. A lady’s wish is my command.” Sanji pauses. “And I can’t call myself the greatest cook in the East Blue if I can’t teach others to be great cooks as well.”

“I think you’d be the greatest regardless.”

You glance at him through watery eyes in time to see his face flush a deep red. He looks away hastily, chuckling with feigned modesty. “I’m flattered that you think so highly of me.”

Your shoulders lift in a shrug as you look back down at your hands. You reach up to blot away your tears.

How could you not think the world of Sanji? Or the world of anyone at the Baratie, for that matter? When you were kicked off the merchant ship you’d stowed away on two years ago, you had been sure that you’d be banned from setting foot in such a fine-looking restaurant. Years of scorn and slammed doors had not given you the chance to think otherwise.

But Sanji spotted you on the docks, called you madam like you really were one, cooked you a meal in the kitchen and talked to you. Zeff gave you a job and a bed of your own. The staff gave you a family.

“We’ll try again tomorrow. I’ll figure out something that’ll make everything click for you, and you’ll be a proper cook in no time.” Sanji leans forward, resting his elbows on his knees, and winks up at you. “I promise.”

As always, your heart skips a beat.

“Okay.”

Maybe, you realize suddenly, you don’t necessarily want to be a cook so much as you want to love the way Sanji does.

“That’s my girl.” Standing up, Sanji takes your empty bowl in one hand and offers the other for you to take. “Now, shall I walk the madam to her room, or does she wish to stay out on the deck for a while?”

You allow yourself to grin, considering. “The madam wishes to stay out here and …” you hesitate but then decide to soldier on, “and possibly chat with a dear friend for a few more minutes?”

Your pulse pounds in your ears.

Sanji’s eyes widen a bit. Then he blinks, and then he smiles, drawing his hand back and quickly sitting down next to you once more.

“A lady’s wish is my command,” he says.

He takes out a cigarette, making a quip about Patty while he lights it, and your combined laughter rings out across the Baratie. It’s perfect like it always is – savory and warm on your tongue, happy and gentle in your stomach.

Indeed, this is home.

#opla #one piece #sanji x reader #vinsmoke sanji x reader #vinsmoke sanji #sanji #opla sanji #one piece live action #opla fanfiction #one piece fanfiction #reader insert #fluff #fem!reader #this one's for the girlies who burn water #look i came into opla thinking i'd be a 100% zoro stan but something abt opla sanji got me all <3 #like bro. who gave u the right to smile like that ;(#so i made a reader who adores him just as much as he adores them :)

4K notes · View notes

brattylikestoeat · 2 years

Text

223 notes · View notes

lev1hei1chou · 7 days

Text

Cravings

Gojo x reader Genre: Fluff Words: 474 Synopsis: Gojo rates your pregnancy cravings Masterlist

Gojo Satoru, the man who claims to have seen everything, was about to embark on the most mysterious and thrilling adventure of his life: experiencing his partner's pregnancy cravings. As he sat beside you, observing your every move with amusement in his eyes, he couldn't help but wonder what odd concoction you would come up with next.

"Darling, I'm hungry," you declared, your eyes gleaming with excitement as you waddled into the kitchen, your baby bump leading the way.

Gojo raised an eyebrow, his interest piqued. "What's on the menu today, my dear?"

You grinned mischievously. "Prepare yourself, because this one's a doozy." With a flourish, you presented your creation: pickles dipped in chocolate syrup, sprinkled with crushed potato chips.

Gojo's eyes widened in disbelief, but being the supportive partner he was, he decided to give it a try. Gingerly picking up one of the peculiar snacks, he took a bite, his expression morphing into one of surprise.

"Hmm," he mused, chewing thoughtfully. "Interesting combination. The sweet and salty flavors complement each other surprisingly well. I'd give it a solid 7 out of 10."

You laughed, delighted by his willingness to indulge in your cravings. "Not bad, but I think we can do better."

And so, the culinary adventure continued, with Gojo eagerly tasting each strange concoction you concocted. From ice cream topped with hot sauce to peanut butter and pickle sandwiches, no craving was too bizarre for the two of you to tackle together.

As the days passed and your due date drew nearer, Gojo found himself looking forward to your cravings with a mix of anticipation and amusement. He never knew what strange combination you would come up with next, but he was always ready to dive in headfirst and give it a try.

One evening, as you sat together on the couch, Gojo felt a sudden pang of hunger. "I think it's my turn to come up with a craving," he declared, eyes twinkling.

You raised an eyebrow, intrigued. "Alright, Satoru, hit me with your best shot."

With a flourish, Gojo disappeared into the kitchen, leaving you in suspense. After a few moments, he returned, carrying a plate piled high with… ramen noodles topped with whipped cream and gummy bears.

You couldn't help but burst into laughter at the sight. "Baby, what on earth is that?"

He grinned, setting the plate down in front of you. "I call it… the Gojo Special. Trust me, it's delicious."

With a mixture of trepidation and curiosity, you took a bite, expecting the worst. To your surprise, the combination of savory noodles, sweet whipped cream, and chewy gummy bears was strangely satisfying.

"Well, I'll be damned," you exclaimed, taking another bite. "This is actually pretty good!"

Gojo beamed with pride, his eyes sparkling with delight. "See? I told you I had a knack for this."

955 notes · View notes

crestapex · 4 months

Note

Yesss we love a foodie simon!

Mans will tear up some fried rice and then fuck up some rotisserie chickens 2 min later. Yall stupid if u think u can leave 2 big plates unattended with him. 3 slurps and its gone.

If hes dating and u cant finish ur food he gladly finish it for u. Gets lowkey offended when i pull the plate back and tell him u just ate off that plate/fork. Like wtf u mean i cant eat off ur plate/fork it doesnt matter bc I kiss u anyways SO LET ME FUCKIN EAT😫

Hes the type to eat from the pot/pan. Like as soon as u tell him the food is ready hes already digging in the pressure cooker with a spoon.💀

Yeah-no, ‘cause he’s definitely the type to look at you all confused when you don’t just give him your plate and instead try to shove your uneaten food on to his. He’s quirking his brow, looking at you like, ‘Hello? My tongue has literally been inside you.’ 🤨 And he just gently takes your plate and fork out of your hands while staring at you, nodding in disapproval.

Update: sort of part two.

And “3 slurps and it’s gone” PLEASE, I’M DONE. Also, I just couldn’t stop myself from writing a (semi) little blurb. 🤭 Now introducing big boy helping you cook!

You stand at the stove, wooden spoon in one hand, and switching from spice to spice with the other. Your eyes stay focused on the silver pot below, nearly filled to the brim with hot, simmering soup. It’s one of your own recipes, fresh and homemade from start to finish. The savory smell fills the kitchen, and having certainly flooded into the other rooms of your shared flat. As it appears you’re not the only one who favors this recipe, someone else clearly does as well.

You try your best not to acknowledge the beast of a man looming over you too much, instead letting him quietly watch as you work your magic. Simon’s hand rests on the counter beside the stove, his other hand opting to rest knuckle-first on his hip. Sure, he mostly chooses to remain silent, but he has no problem reaching for and handing you a utensil or spice—often times before you can, and even before you can ask him to do so.

Every now and again you’ll find yourself having to step away for a minute, and a minute is all he needs. All the time he needs to inch over to your spot and take a hold of the wooden spoon, gently stirring the soup. All the time he needs to lift the spoon and bring it to his lips, slurping up the smallest amount it could possibly take to drench his taste buds, no matter how steaming hot it is. And all the time he needs to lower the spoon back into the pot and swiftly move back into position, just as you begin to turn around and make your way back over to the stove.

And you pretend you don’t notice, you like to pretend you didn’t just catch Simon from out the corner of your eye sneak a bit into his system. Though you can’t help but silently laugh to yourself as he lightly pushes a spice in your direction with his thumb, his own, kind way of telling you it needs just a little bit more!

#call of duty #cod x reader #simon ghost riley #simon ghost riley x reader #simon riley #simon riley x reader #ghost mw2 #ghost mw3 #ghost x reader #my posts #my asks #my writing

847 notes · View notes

zarekarstudio · 2 years

Text

so like, originally i was kiinda annoyed when neither my brother nor his fiancee actually ate any of the fancy birthday cake i bought for my birthday back in april, despite when asked before i ordered it being really excited to have some (them wanting some changed the size i got, for frame of reference)

...but recently i've realized that it just means i can pull out a slice of fancy-ass cake to defrost pretty much whenever i want, so i'm fine with it actually

#it's dark chocolate and espresso ganache filling and frosting over a red velvet cake base btw it's fuckin' divine #it was also steampunk themed lmao #i am currently nomming on some chocolate rivets #the only person in my brother's house who ate more than like 3 forkfulls of a slice was their 1 year old lmao #my future sister-in-law let her try a little and then got distracted #didn't really think too much about the baby now goin' HAM on the cake #uuuuuuuntil i @ed her with '...hey- espresso is coffee'#and then it clicked that her daughter had just eaten like 5 entire fistfuls of basically coffee cake lol #the poor bean was SO SAD when the plate got taken away from her #given how sweets-oriented the rest of them are-#i think that kid is gonna be the only person in her whole family that actually likes more bitter / savory stuff lol

0 notes

azsazz · 1 month

Text

Lavender Haze

Rhysand x Rhysand's Sister's Best Friend/Virgin!Reader

Summary: Having a crush on your best friends older brother isn't ideal. Especially when he has one back.

Warnings: Flirting, sexual taunting and begging.

Word Count: 3,065

Belongs to the timeline and predates Clandestine Love

_________________________________________

“Where’s Ara?” you ask your dinner mate as Einar places a steaming dish before you. The savory scents of the herbs he used on the fresh meat fill your senses, and your mouth waters at its deliciousness. Vegetables swim in a thick cream sauce that looks all too delectable, and the mound of cut potatoes doused in flavor has your jaw tingling. You simply cannot wait to dig in, only able to keep yourself from diving straight into your dinner as the family cook replenishes your half drank glass of sparkling fae wine. “Thank you, Einar.”

The chef dips his head in response then spins on his heel, quickly leaving the room. A bite of guilt pinches your stomach as you watch the green-skinned, normally bright-eyed fae stalk back to the kitchen to prepare dessert. It’s not like Rhysand is that much like his father. While his personality and aura tend to lean to the more arrogant side, it’s usually attributed to the fact that he is a young, confident male, eager to bask in all of the indulgences son of the High Lord is offered.

Said male sita across from you, pinning you to your seat with searing violet eyes. His spine is rigid and his fingers are curled tightly around his utensils as he watches your gaze follow the chef scurrying from the room.

He wants to fire him, no matter how delicious his food is.

Rhysand doesn’t have a right to feel this way. He doesn’t like the rage that coils his stomach, that lights his bones on fire when your soft eyes meet those of any other male in the court. Ever since you’d worked up the courage to kiss him all those months ago, it had ignited something inside of him even he couldn’t seem to make sense of. He shouldn’t be feeling this conflicted over his little sister's best friend of all people, but even he couldn’t ignore your otherworldly beauty, the musical laughter he always ached to hear, feel those gorgeous eyes roaming down his body while you thought his attention was elsewhere.

The following months after that fateful night had been spent in the Illyrian camps, avoiding you. He’d tried occupying his mind with training or drinking with Azriel and Cassian until he couldn’t remember what it felt like to have your lips pressed against his own, your breasts pressed against his chest, and your scent burrowing so deeply into his soul he might never forget it.

You couldn’t be drowned by any female nor male he fell into bed with since. Rhys, as sick as it might be to admit it, had resorted to imagingin his partners were you when he couldn’t seem to get off. Horrible, he knows, but you’ve planted that seed and his feelings are an overgrown slew of vines, constricting his inner being.

And now you’re here, across from him. And he’s here, alone with you. And Ara is not here like she should be and his mother isn’t here to form a buffer and his father is away doing Mother knows what and Cassian and Azriel aren’t here to tell him how horrible this idea is, or how if he’d only fuck you it would get these feelings out of his system, at least, the former of the two would say.

Rhysand is in a dangerous situation right now.

He forces his body to relax, slumping back in his seat with the vanity only the prince of Night can convey. Masking his face into something a little more open—a little more nice—he stalls, cutting into the meat on his own plate. Blood spurts as he takes his knife to it, and Rhysand has to force himself from imagining it to be a certain chef's blood instead. “Mother whisked her into the city for dinner.”

“So it’s only you and I?” you blush, stabbing a potato with your fork. It has been so long since you’d last seen Rhysand, and it seems the few months he’s been away have made him even more handsome than you remember, even if his skin looks a little paler from the blistering winters in the mountains and the drink he hasn’t let up on since.

“It seems so,” Rhys answers, chewing.

“And no one else,” you murmur, almost breathless as your heart begins to race in your chest at the thought of what you and him could be getting into all alone, if he hadn’t decided to run from you.

Rhysand quirks a brow, looking down the table as if looking for someone else, and replies, “How did you come to that conclusion?”

Rolling your eyes, you mutter, “Asshole,” under your breath, and Rhys fails to bite back his smirk. Both of you fall silent as you eat, only the sounds of your hammering heart and utensils filling the void in the luxurious dining room. You’re not sure how the family doesn't feel lonely like this, eating at the table built for an army. You can’t even hear Einar shuffling about in the kitchen, no clanging of pans or low curses if he creates something his perfectionist self doesn’t deem a ‘creation of the Gods.’

You can’t help but to glance at Rhysand, drinking in the sight of him. His straight nose, the curve of his cupid’s bow as he places a spoonful of vegetables and cream sauce in his mouth. His thick lashes are dark, so dark it looks like he’s let Ara around him with some of her kohl again. They’re long as well, brushing the apples of his cheeks when he looks down at his plate, and you’re envious of them.

Too long you’ve gone without seeing him. The most dramatic male you’ve ever set your sights on, running from you after you’d finally worked up the courage after months of pining to kiss him. It was after Ara had fallen asleep and you found yourself on the balcony, gazing up at the stars, his company warm and welcoming.

It had been everything to you then, the confidence you felt, the rush of adrenaline as you caught him off guard, the feel of his lips against yours, soft still, even if they were wind-chapped from the long flight. He hadn’t reacted, you hadn’t given him the time to, yanking yourself back just as quickly as you leaned in and running off to Araphel’s room, your mind screaming at you that it had been a horrible idea.

But you couldn’t ignore the emotions spilled between the both of you, the times where his hand had brushed yours or his touch lingered too long when he’d muse your hair, stroking the shell of your ear. You couldn’t ignore the heated looks Rhys shot you every time you spoke to another male, nor the way he always found an excuse to interrupt you, guiding you away from them with a large hand on the small of your back.

And maybe it was your silly little heart for wanting him. For crushing on your best friend's older brother who exudes confidence and can have any female in the court he wants. Any female on the continent, even.

The silence is damning, though, and you wish you could be how you were the night you’d kissed him, sanguine and bright with the idea that this could be your true love's first kiss. Of course, the fleeting press of his lips was enough to solidify many things for you, but you’d been unsure about Rhysand’s feelings on the matter, and by the time you’d found the courage to talk to him about what had happened, he’d already fled back to the mountains.

You’d kissed plenty of males since then, dragging Ara for nights out at Rita’s because Rhysand and his friends always raved about it. A part of you thought that he might walk in and see you in another male's arms, tear you away like the warrior-prince he is, but sadly, it hadn’t happened.

And you have to say that you’re more than a little confused. He’d been blatantly glaring at Einar while the chef served your food. Had he heard about the kiss you shared with the young chef when Donan hadn’t allowed Araphel permission to go out one night and you spent it with the staff the High Lord kept around the house? It was all for a silly drinking game, but the green-skinned fae’s cheeks had been bright pink after the both of you stumbled back from the pantry, lips bruised and eyes shining bright with liquor. Maybe he had overheard some of the handmaiden's gossipping about it after all these weeks? Or maybe, the darkness always knows.

Now, the both of you are here, alone, staring at each other over the delectable meals prepared by the chef you’ve tasted once before. It hadn’t been anything like the peck you’d shared with Rhysand. In that millisecond of the brushing of your lips your world had shifted, body set alight with shooting stars and setting free the wild butterflies in your stomach.

He has that glint in his eyes, the same one he always gets when he’s watching you, the one that heats your very core. And as you chew the potatoes in your mouth, you muster that confidence into yourself once more.

You will it into the marrow of your bones, rolling your shoulders as you prepare yourself to get exactly what you want. If there is no one here to interrupt, then the stage is set.

“Whoops,” you feign, allowing a drip of cream sauce to slip off the end of your utensil on the way to your mouth. It lands on the bare skin between the plunging fabric of your dress, and you catch Rhysand tracking the movement as you reach for your napkin to dab at your skin. “Spilled a little.”

Rhysnad hums, “You should be more careful, darling. Wouldn’t want to ruin that pretty dress of yours, now would you?”

“No,” you agree, ever the dream of poised elegance. You pop a vegetable into your mouth, chewing for a moment, before continuing. “I wouldn’t want to ruin my dress at all. But, if it’s meant to be, I can always have another one made.”

In that moment, you know you’ve got him. The stars in his violet eyes wink out as darkness settles in, pinning you to your chair. His look sends a shiver up your spine and you know that he is no longer hungry for the food plated before him.

Rhysand flares his wings a little and bites back a curse. For too long he’s been living at the Illyrian camps. There’s no one here he has to compete with for your attention, no one he needs to show off his wingspan to, though, by the way that your half-lidded eyes trace across the membranous skin of them, perhaps he’ll flare them wide when you’re beneath him.

It’s a line that he hasn’t crossed with you yet, one that he promised himself that he wouldn’t. You’re his little sister’s best friend for Mother’s sake, not just another female simpering after him because of his familial ties. You’re…much more than that, and he shouldn’t be thinking about crawling across this fucking table and licking that cream off of your chest and burying his head between your breasts.

“Meant to be,” he echoes, and you hum, tilting your head back with the motion. The exposed skin of your neck calls to him, even more so when you swipe a finger, capturing the sauce and popping it into your mouth to suck on. Your cheeks hollow exaggeratedly, and his cock strains painfully in his pants. He growls your name, a tenor of darkness that curls through your body like the icey patches of snow on the way into the city.

“What was that Rhys?” you ask, batting your eyelashes now. The meal in front of you is long forgotten, your hunger for this male insatiable. The way Rhysand makes you feel, despite only sharing a whisper of a kiss, well, you think you could be mates someday. “Did you need something?”

“I need you to stop doing that before I come over there and make you stop myself.”

You moan a little, legs falling wide under the table. “I think I might like that, though.”

Rhysand’s nostrils flare as he drinks in the scent of your arousal, thick between your thighs.

“You’re supposed to be a Lady, darling. Who taught you to speak like that?” he purrs, tapping a perfectly manicured nail against the table. You know that he’s only doing it to try and dispel the tension leaking from his body. You can scent it in the air, the raw, heady smell of him that threatens to send you right to your knees.

“You,” you moan in response. You can feel him creeping into your mind, watching. Waiting.

“And you always listen to your superiors, don’t you, darling?”

“Yes,” you hiss, squirming in your seat as those black claws of his rake gently across your mind. Your fingers curl around the arms of your chair, your spine arching at the soft caress. “Rhys, please…I need you to touch me.”

It’s a simple request, one he’s always indulged you in.

In a moment he’s gone from his chair only to appear behind you, winnowing far faster than stalking around the edge of the table to reach your seat.

He looms over you like a touch of darkness crowding you in, and you revel in it. The hue of his eyes is a dangerous violet, set with lightning striking in the distance instead of stars. It lights you up, your breath turning faster, the beating of your heart thunderous in the silence of the dining room.

You can see the war in his eyes when you tilt your head back, resting it on the back of your chair. You press your breasts out a little, and watch with rapt attention as his eyes flicker down the front of your dress before he rips them away, the line of his mouth tightening at your hidden tease of a smile.

In your head, late at night, you’ve touched him; a hand around his silky, long cock, mouth pressed to his desperately, too. He’s tasted your slick on his tongue, reveled in it, hardly able to hold himself back from crawling up your body and fucking you how he wanted.

But you’ve never had sex before, and as much as you want to, as much as you’ve tried, Rhysand has been holding back.

Maybe it’s because he’s nervous to cross that line with you. You’re his little sisters best friend for fucks sake, and he’s going to be High Lord someday. Sure, he’s slowly making his way through the camp girls, trying not to grunt your name when he fucks into them, because you’re never far from his mind.

Maybe it’s because he’s scared, if his sister or father ever found out. Araphel might be happy for the both of you. It’s a thought he has less often than the opposite, if she’s upset that he’s stealing one of her only true friends, and he doesn’t want that.

Maybe he’s afraid he won’t be able to hold himself back.

Your name is a growl on his lips. A warning, one you don’t have it in you to heed. So you go with your next best idea, taunting.

“I guess I’ll have to drag Ara down to the city when she gets back then,” you say with a sad sigh. You pick up your fork and force your eyes from Rhysand’s burning ones. You shrug a little, spearing vegetables with your fork. “Fuck whatever male I come across there.”

Rhysand is hardly able to hold himself back from baring his teeth. He won’t allow that, ever.

You can feel the tension roiling in his body as he stands at your back, his food long forgotten. You’re not faring much better with the ache pulsing between your legs and the dinner that’s turned to mush in your mouth.

“I’ll turn any male that touches you to mist.”

“Are you planning on doing that to yourself, too?” you quirk a brow as you glance his way, faking your disinterest despite the way that your core goes molten at his words.

Rhysands eyes darken in response, the muscle in his jaw ticking.

Your words are working, you can see it in the way that he holds himself back, body nearly shaking at every thought you’re planting in his mind. You know he’s on the verge of cracking, that he wants this just as badly as you do, so you continue.

“What if I told you that I wasn’t a virgin anymore. Would you fuck me then, Rhysand?”

“What?” His voice takes on a dark tone, the stars winking out from his eyes.

“If I told you that chef Einar was the one to do it, to bend me over his worktop and fuck me, what would you say then, Rhys?”

“I’d say you’re a liar. And that I’ll kill him either way.”

“If I spread my legs for him just like this,” you continue, leaning back in your seat and opening your thighs wide. His fingers ball into fists but he doesn’t move from his spot, still planted behind you, trying his best to ignore the way your scent hits him like a sword to the gut. “And let his hands roam down my body just like this—” You startle at the loud sound coming from the kitchen, pots falling to the floor in succession. It makes your hands that you’re dragging down your body falter, and before you can continue, your wrists are pinned in Rhysand’s harsh grip, his breath heavy against your throat.

“You should be very, very careful about what you’re going to say next, darling,” his growl sends your bones rattling, shivers wracking your spine. You wish it weren’t the harsh wood at your back but instead his warm body, holding you tight.

“I want you to fuck me, Rhys,” you gasp, and it sounds like a desperate mewl. “I need you to fuck me.”

Rhysand’s mouth is a whisper against your skin, a brand of night.

“If I’m going to fuck you, darling,” he purrs and your insides melt. “Everyone is going to know it.”

#rhysand x reader #acotar #azsazz #acomaf #acowar #rhys x reader #rhysand #rhys acotar #a court of thorns and roses

612 notes · View notes