#kitchenaid side by side

[haute-lifestyle-com]

KitchenAid Expresso Machine Makes the Perfect Cappuccino.

#Vimeo #janet walker #haute-lifestyle.com #the-entertainment-zone.com #kitchenaid #amazon #KitchenAid Expresso Machine #coffee #coffetime #cafe #iced coffee #coffee break #latte #cappuccino #Project 13 The Last Day #The Six Sides of Truth #the manhattan project #The Assassins of Fifth Avenue #The Wednesday Killer

[shannonvavich]

Classic Butter and Milk Mashed Potatoes

Classic Butter and Milk Mashed Potatoes The simplest and most classic mashed potato recipe. Good with everything! I use a stand mixer to mash and then whip the potatoes. 5 lbs potatoes (peeled and chopped into coarse but uniform chunks)water for boiling1/2 cup butter1 cup whole milk2-3 teaspoons salt Boil potatoes in salted water until the potatoes are tender but not mushy.Strain potatoes and…

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#butter #kitchenaid mixer #mashed potatoes #milk #potatoes #side dishes

[allywthsr]

ELF ON THE SHELF | (l.norris)

summary: you and Lando prepare elf on the shelf

wordcount: 1.5k words

pairing: dad!landonorris x fem!reader

warnings: none!

notes: I’ve never had elf on the shelf, so I hope that how you do it

advent calendar

Elf on the shelf was a tradition you started ever since you had kids with Lando, every day in December the little elf (that Louis named Claus) did funny mischievous things. Last year's favorite was when Claus took a bite of every single cookie you baked the day before, Lando sacrificed himself to assume this task.

Now with Sofia being three years old, she finally really understood the elf on the shelf and got excited when she woke up, what kind of thing Claus did today, erupting in giggles every time.

You started this year with a simple, yet funny, thing, when the kids were sleeping, you got out a bowl and filled it with some water, you put a tiny carrot in the water and two wiggly eyes, you sat Claus on the dining table and the bowl next to him. Every year you wrote a little note, explaining what Claus did, today it was: ’I brought you a snowman from the North Pole, I hope it’s not that cold anymore xx Claus‘. You could already hear the giggle of your two little sunshine’s.

And that’s exactly how they reacted when Lando read the note to the kids, they giggled and Louis said: ’But mummy, the snowman melted, it’s just water‘.

In the evening, you set up the next one, Claus sat on a little chair you bought, and next to him the iron and some crinkled and normal crisps. Today's note: ’I ironed your crisps cause they were all crinkled‘. Lando laid out the crisps and ate a few himself, he chuckled when you two were ready for tonight, it was funny.

Little Sofia was tired that morning, not really awake, she just pointed at the different things, but Louis was awake and giggling. ”Daddy, he ironed our crisps!“ Lando lifted him on his hips and tickled his sides‘ ”Daddy…. stop. Can I eat some crisps?“ Lando nodded and bent down a little, so Louis could reach the crisps, taking an ’ironed‘ one. ”They taste even better when they’re ironed!“ Lando kissed the side of his head, and you chuckled.

In the following evenings you did several mischievous things with Claus, one day he put Christmas hats on some of you guys in the pictures, you cut out red triangles and white stripes, glued them together, and had a little Christmas hat. Another day he fried little Haribo eggs in a pan, obviously you only put the gummy eggs in the pan, sat Claus next to it and the giggles were loud the next morning. You were happy that you found new things that Claus did every year.

It wasn’t always things that you and Lando put a lot of time and crafts in, one time, Lando just placed Claus upside down on the fridge, simple, but the kids loved it. Lando had to lift up both of them, so they could say hello to Claus.

This year's favorite was definitely when you placed Claus under a glass and the note said: ’Your daddy farted, I‘m hiding in here from the stinky smell‘, Lando was a bit sulky about the fact, that he had to be that one that farted, but you reminded him of the time, you and the kids had to flee from the living room into the kitchen because it was smelling awful. He only smiled when you brought it up, clearly proud of his achievement. The next morning, the house was filled with giggles, Louis and Sofia couldn’t contain their excitement about this one, they even told Lando’s parents when they visited that day, laughing until you had to tell them, to think about their breathing.

One day Claus made a sponge cake, just a kitchen sponge on a plate, with some sprinkles on top of it, placed next to the Kitchenaid that stood in the corner of the counter.

Lando’s favorite was definitely the one, where you tin foil wrapped everyone’s favorite pair of shoes, Claus wanted them to look ’shiny‘ so he did some work around the shoes. Lando had so much fun, wrapping each shoe, especially Sofias because they were so small, ”Babe look, her feet are just the smallest cutest things ever!“

You had a few more, Claus was sitting on top of the tree, pretending like he removed the star and he was the new tree topper, another cute idea was, that Lando wrapped him in wrapping paper and laid him under the tree ’I am your only present for Christmas‘ the kids protested against what Claus wrote on the note, but Lando cooled them down pretty quickly, as always, Lando was the one, they always listened to.

One evening you stacked the living room pillows on top of each other and said that Claus stacked the pillows, to climb up to the ceiling lamp, but he couldn’t reach, it because the pillows weren’t enough.

An idea you found online, that took a bit more preparing time, was that you placed Claus on the counter, sifted some flour around, and placed little mini marshmallows next to him. The note said: ’I‘m ready for a snowball fight, I already have mine when the kids saw that, and they started to throw these little marshmallows against Clause, but Lando quickly put that to a stop and explained that you do not play with food, instead they should eat it, which they did. Sofia was propped up on Lando’s hip and every now and then she would pop some marshmallows in Lando’s mouth, she was always big on sharing things.

Things that made your kids, and Lando, giggle were when Claus played elf Jenga, you placed Kit Kats on top of each other and then you created a small eatable Jenga, easy, but the kids loved it, especially when Lando snook away with them, after you settled in the living room, to steal Claus some Kit Kat. One day, Claus cut a small hole into Louis's favorite cereal box, to snack on some chocolate puffs. You can imagine what Lando had to do after he and the kids rescued Claus from the box, a small bowl filled with milk and some cereal because if Claus was hungry, he should eat some cereal. Another time he placed some crayons on a crater and little Skittles were placed inside and in front of it, the note said: ’Now this is a great way to use crayons‘, the kids loved it, eating the Skittles before you could say no. A silly thing was when Claus was sitting in Sofias' underwear on the drying rack, she couldn’t contain the giggles, especially when Lando acted all disgusted playfully, that Claus chose to sit in her smelly undies. What else happened with underwear was, that Lando and you replaced the stockings that sat above the fireplace with underwear, so instead of Lando’s stocking, there was his boxershort. On the ground laid a small chocolate bar, the note said: ’I tried to put some candy in your new stockings, but they kept falling out‘. Also, easy things were that, Claus was trapped under a bell jar, and the note only said: ’help‘. Lando had to lift Sofia up to Claus, so she could help him before he got hurt, both of them cheering when she held Claus in her hands. One day Claus sat on the railroad, wanting to drive to the North Pole, to tell Santa what good kids they were, and another day he stacked up all jars and cups, so he could reach the countertop and a jar of sweets that stood in the middle of it. Lando also hid him between the bananas once, wrapped in some yellow napkins, to disguise himself as a banana, often these were the things where the kids would laugh the hardest, it was easy, yet effective.

Once Claus cooked breakfast, Lando poured different sweets into a pot, like Haribo spaghetti sticks or oranges, the variety was big and the cheer as well, when the kids saw it.

Lando was super proud of one idea he had, under a glass he trapped his computer mouse and the note said: ’I caught a mouse on the loose‘, because of his love for computers and playing games, the little ones also loved sitting in front of it and mostly press random letters on the keyboard.

On Christmas Day, Claus sat on the table with two eggs in front of and some sprinkles next to him, together with you and Lando, the kids sprinkled the sprinkles over the eggs, because the note said: ’Pour the sprinkles over the eggs and come back in three hours‘ in the meantime, Lando replaced the real eggs with some Kinder surprise eggs. The faces both of them made were the sweetest, how surprised and with an open mouths they looked at the eggs and stared to thank Claus that he made surprise eggs out of the normal ones.

All in all, the elf on the Shelf was a success this year, often enough Lando was just as happy and laughing as his kids were, but that’s what happens when you’re still a kid at heart.

#lando norris #lando norris imagine #formula 1 #lando norris x you #lando norris x reader #lando norris fluff #lando norris x y/n #lando x reader #lando norris one shot #lando imagine #christmas #dad!lando norris

[batcavescolony]

Since in #7 Bernard Dowd is seen to want to be a Chef and I've had culinary arts schooling this is my list of oddly specific things pertaining to that. Use it as you want (just from my experience)

Having a callous on the base of your pointer fringer of your dominate hand from using a chef knife

Funky patterned chef pants

DISHES NEVER END

when you are moving with a hot pan or heavy items ect you tell everyone like HOT PAN! BEHIND. GOING AROUND THE CORNER. BEHIND!

small batches are cute but in a restaurant/bakery/etc you're doing big batches in industrial ovens and mixers. A batch of bread dough we made had 12lbs of flour and like a half gallon of water.

Culinary arts isn't just making food it's doing math, converting recipes, going over OSHA rules and restaurant regulations

After awhile you have enough knowledge to the point where you see a recipe on the internet and go "hey... I can make that. Like really easily" like you can just make curry or scallion pancakes or fancy food

You will notice the shitty knife cuts in like pre cut packages of fruit and veg at the store

You're not allowed to have nail polish or false nails (unless you want to wear gloves all the time)

You start to realise how easy it's is to do somethings for yourself. Like you can just buy a chicken and break it down yourself or make stock at home

Their will be at least one class day where you cut onions all day and leave in tears because everyone is literally cutting onions

Sometimes stuff gets pushed back in the fridge or it's after break and the food has grew a putrid smelling mold. Cleaning it is part of culinary, it's...Fun

Everyday you wear chef pants, a chef coat, a closed toe non slip shoe and a chef hat.

Your hands will get chapped af because you're washing them all the time, lotion is your friend

You do refer to your head chef as 'Chef' or 'Chef ____' (or at least we did)

You will fuck up except it and move past it. (I once put too many chips in the fryer, it over flowed and we had to clean it up)

Kitchens get hot and you're wearing pants and a coat that are designed to protect you from like boiling water being pored on them, so drink water.

You will get cut/burned/stabbed/squished fingers it's part of the job just don't get bodily fluids on the food

You're standing like the whole time no matter what

You know that gallon conversation thing you learned in elementary? You will see that in your sleep. Gallon to quart to pint to cup. Also 8oz to a cup. 3t to a T. 16oz to a Pound ect it's ingrained into my head now

With a bit of knowledge you now know things and you can use it. Like add Xanthan Gum to a blended drink to emulsify it and it's just like Starbucks.

On the down side people want you to make things

You start wanting things for your kitchen like a KitchenAid or a portion scoop or dehydrator and having that feeds back into "I can make anything"

Figuring out exact prices for things is crucial and a pain. Like you have to take the price of baking soda and figure out how much a 1/4t costs. It's not horrible ig but when you're doing it for a whole recipe or menu it gets repetitive.

Ok that's all I'm putting you get the idea

#bernard dowd #comics #dc comics #robin #tim drake #red robin #batman #gotham #batfam #my fixations have crossed over so it your problem #culinary #again other kitchens in other parts of the country or world will be different this is just from my experience #Tim Drake: Robin 7 #fic research #for yall #like it stuns me that i can just make things! like i can just make a Creme Brulee. i have made ice cream. i can whip up homemade Grenola.

[jisungsdaydreamer]

Stray Kids as Different Kinds of Shopaholics

Pairing: OT8 x gn!reader Genre: headcanon, fluff, crack Warnings: none

1. Bang Chan- The Idiot

You would think that Bang Chan would be the sensible one when it comes to shopping 

This is false.

Unlike the other boys, he doesn’t really have super niche hobbies like art or dance, so he believes that he doesn’t need to spend so much money on such “unnecessary things”

He’ll even hoard coupons and try to use them, even though they expired months ago

But two seconds later, he’ll be whipping out his wallet to buy the most useless shit ever

He would 100% fall for stupid scams, like a self-stirring coffee mug or a “gravity-defying” umbrella hat

As long as they make “life more efficient”

But if you want to buy a book or socks or something, he’ll side eye you and scold you for buying dumb things, as if he just didn’t spend a fortune on an automatic shoe-tying machine

2. Lee Know- The Gordon Ramsay Wannabe

Now Minho is pretty wise with money, except when it comes to one thing

His kitchen

I can absolutely envision him wanting to have an immaculately stocked kitchen

After all, he likes to try making new and elaborate dishes, and he needs the tools for that

Minho will have no problem with buying the fanciest, most expensive supplies

He’ll have a bluetooth wireless cooking sensor to time his roasts from a distance, a soy milk maker, and that KitchenAid artisan mini stand mixer with the fancy beater

He’s so extra that he will even buy a juice extractor to facilitate his morning fix for green juice (gross)

Will get mad if you question his purchases.

3. Changbin- The Gym Bro

Every single exercise contraption known to man will go into his personal home gym

He needs fifty different kinds of weights, 

Maybe even those arm exercise bands for when he’s “on a road trip”

Also spends a lot of money on nutrition

Like those organic seed packets or high-quality kale or something so he can make healthy stuff for himself

If you even open your mouth, he will immediately get defensive, explaining why each and every one of his purchases make sense and why you need them too to be healthy

4. Hyunjin- Ariana Grande

The “I want it, I got it” mentality

Going shopping with him has no budget. He hates that word

The kind of person who doesn’t bring a shopping list; he just strolls the aisles and buys anything he wants

Likes buying name brands: Gucci, Versace, Tom Ford, Chanel, and of course, Celine

Bougie bitch right here

LOVES jewelry and accessories even more than clothes; anything that glitters

Might ask you to go shopping with him sometimes just because he needs someone to help him hold all of his bags

Simply will ignore you if you ask him why he needs $5000 in new shirts when he’s already got a closet full at home

5. Han- The Real One

Surprisingly, Jisung would be one of the more practical shoppers

He has a normal budget that he follows religiously, because there’s only one thing that he really wants

Food.

Whenever he goes out, he absolutely must buy a drink. Probably boba, to sip on while walking or when sitting in the car

He’ll have “secret” hiding spots in his room for his snacks

Can’t cook so loves taking it as an excuse to always get food outside & he loves doing it with you

Loves ordering-in all kinds of meals as well, whether it’s pizza or butter chicken

Every morning, Jisung needs to buy his coffee at Starbucks and be all aesthetic, or else he can’t do his work

Pouts when you remind him that you literally have a coffee machine at home.

6. Felix- Santa Claus

Now Felix is also a little like Jisung, being a little more realistic

EXCEPT when it comes to his friends & family, especially you.

Will spoil you rotten will all sorts of gifts, from new clothes to perfume

And he insists on taking you on shopping sprees and showering you with new things you don’t really need

Receiving expensive chocolates imported from Paris or somewhere is a regular thing for you

And he’s even managed to get you a designer bag that even the richest people have to be on waiting lists for

Doesn’t get offended at all when you tell him that he needs to cut down on the spending; he’ll just cutely hold out a pretty dress for you to wear

And how can you refuse him?

7. Seungmin- The Mom

Doesn’t give a crap about being fashionable; definitely stingy when it comes to that

“But Seungmin, that hoodie is seven years old…” “Well it fits, so I can wear it.”

Will lecture people (Hyunjin) on their horrible spending habits

Meanwhile, he’d rather spend time in the cleaning sections

He’ll stock up on extra paper towels and wipes and other practical materials

The kind of shopper to absolutely ADORE sales, and will buy everything with a discount

Would buy snow gear in June just because it’s 5% off and will force you to try on a hideous sweater just because it’s in clearance or something

8. I.N.- The Guilty One

Can’t be trusted when given money to go shopping

You could give him your wallet to tell him to go buy milk and when he comes back, he’ll have his arms full of crap that you didn’t even mention

Is such a binge-shopper that he has no choice but to live simple

Because the moment he steps into Target or the mall or somewhere, it’s over.

You had to stop giving him your credit card and just hand him a limited wad of cash when you need him to run errands for you

TAGLIST @hamburgers101 @chansburgah @ajxreads @hash2013 @pixigreen @ana-marais98 @ohish @chizumiyoshi @lilydaisyyy @jetblackbelle @143hyunes

#hyunjin imagines #stray kids #skz #skz soft hours #skz fire #soft hours #softthoughts #fluff #skz fluff #imagines #scenarios #skz fic #ot8 x reader #skz scenarios #stray kids fic #stray kids fluff #stray kids headcanons #stray kids softhours #jisungsdaydreamer #kpop fics #seungmin imagines #changbin imagines #lee know imagines #felix imagines #bang chan imagines #jeongin imagines #han jisung imagines #hwang hyunjin #lee know #skz headcanon

[whiskey-tango-matcha]

Patient Zero (m, colds)

I'm trying something a little different on this one - there's no sick character POV, but both Greyson and Elijah are sick. This is written from first Matt (the sous chef) and then Mark's (the floor manager) perspectives. It was a fun little exercise, and I hope you all like it.

Elijah & Greyson both have the flu and blame each other for it. No real plot, just quips and vibes. Enjoy :)

cw: male snz, colds, contagion, coughing, fevers, dizziness...snarkiness... the usual lmao. 3.5k words

Patient Zero

The early hours of the morning were the best the restaurant had to offer. It was summer, but at three in the morning it was cool, quiet, dark, and almost meditative to be in the restaurant alone. I could get used to this, Matt thought, setting his things down on the prep table in the empty kitchen.

Matt almost never worked the AM shift, but it was an event night and event nights always came with an unusual schedule. This particular event was a small business celebrating ten years open, and the two women in charge of the event were lovely but… particular.

Everything had to be just so – which was fine, because they were paying through the nose to buy out the restaurant for the night – and many of their requests were ones that Greyson and Elijah had never heard before.

“They want us to… make their dinner rolls?” Matt had asked when Greyson had showed him the banquet event order he and Elijah had put together. “But we buy the best bread in the city… I mean, isn’t Alicia going to get mad that she’s losing our business for that event?”

“Elijah already talked to Alicia about it; she’s annoyed, but she gets it. These people want everything made in house, and trust me I told them that Alicia makes better bread than I’d ever be able to, but they didn’t care. They’re fuckin’ weird, Matt,” Greyson said, smoothing the piece of paper onto the prep table. “They want us to make them a cake, too. You did a stage at that bakery in Italy a couple summers ago, right?”

That was how Matt had ended up at the restaurant at oh-dark-thirty, using their decrepit Kitchenaid mixer to make some maybe-okay bread and a probably-not-great cake for a group that had no clue what the difference between a pastry chef and a regular one was. At least he’d be able to enjoy the evening off; it was a Saturday, it was summer, and he could already taste the cocktail he’d be sipping while the rest of the team was slaving away.

About three hours into mixing, proofing, and looking up recipes on his phone, Matt heard the back door of the kitchen slam open and then shut. He whipped his head towards the sound – Greyson wasn’t supposed to be in until nine, at the earliest. Who the fuck was here?

“HTSHH-ue! Huh! Hhh… huhITSZHUE!” Matt heard Elijah before he saw him, and winced when he did. Elijah had definitely seemed a little off yesterday, but the rest of the team figured that he was just nervous about this event and how picky the people paying for it were. Matt, at the very least, hadn’t assumed he was -

“HUHHHESTCHUE!” - sick.

“Bless you, Elijah,” Matt called from the prep kitchen. Elijah jumped at the phantom voice and wiped his nose on the back of his hand. He turned the corner to find Matt, covered in flour and frosting, and laughed.

“Thangks,” he said, his voice low and gravelly. “You doing okay with the whole… bread thing?”

Matt shrugged and motioned to the recipe on his phone. “I mean, if this bread recipe is good enough for The Barefoot Contessa, it should be good enough for these people, right?”

Elijah smiled, amused. “Right,” he said, turning to cough away from the prep kitchen entrance. Matt gave him a sympathetic look, and Elijah shrugged.

“You’re here early,” Matt said, scoring the tops of his rolls and covering the baking sheets in plastic for proofing. Elijah gave him a small smile.

“Couldn’t sleep,” he said, sniffling. “Worried about this party tondight, I guess.”

“Mmm,” Matt hummed, noncommittal. Elijah and his boss were two sides of the same stubborn-ass coin, and there was no use reasoning with or forcing confessions of illness out of either of them. The only people they listened to were each other; their relationship was weird, it was codependent, but it worked so Matt didn’t question it. He hoped Greyson would be in soon.

“I’mb going to go work on the mbenus for tondight,” Elijah said, swallowing back a cough. “Holler if you ndeed mbe.”

Matt knew he wouldn’t need Elijah, but he nodded anyway. “Right back at ya.”

***

The sun had finally made its way to the middle of the sky when Greyson burst through the doors of the kitchen, his signature bull-in-a-china-shop style.

“Christ it’s hot out there,” Greyson moaned as he walked into the prep kitchen. Matt had finally finished the three-tiered cake and was working on making fondant letters to adorn the top. He looked up from his work to see his boss perusing the trays of rolls and cake tiers cooling in the prep kitchen’s reach-in refrigerator.

Greyson was looking especially disheveled this morning; he’d let his hair grow all the way to his shoulders this year – everyone on the stupid dating apps loves long hair, is what he’d said to Matt when he mentioned his boss had needed a haircut back in February – and it was pulled back into a messy ponytail today. He was in a cutoff t-shirt and cutoff shorts, flip-flops, and, frankly, looked more ready for a lazy day at the beach than the huge party he’d have to put out in a few hours.

“It’s August,” Matt said in response to Greyson’s gripe. “That’s, like, peak hot. Why are you wearing that?”

His boss turned to face Matt, gave himself a once over, and huffed out a little laugh. “Couldn’t sleep last night, so I ended up walking to a club. Went home with some girl and crashed at her place, passed out, didn’t have time to go back home, so you get flip-flop Greyson. I have a spare set of clothes in the office.”

Matt rolled his eyes, thinking of the conversation he’d had with Elijah earlier; two sides of the same coin.

“You all good on the bread, Master Baker?” Greyson asked, grinning at his own joke. Matt gave a little laugh through his nose.

“All good,” he said. “I just need help with the fucking frosting for this cake, I can’t seem to get it -”

“IGTSHZZ-ue!”

Matt’s head snapped up suddenly; his boss’s face was pressed into his elbow. The sous felt his heart sink. Not both of them.

A sick Elijah was fine. A sick Greyson was slightly more annoying, but also tolerable. But when both of them were sick, it was, to put it lightly, a nightmare.

“Shit, ‘scuse me, sorry, can’t stop fucking sneezing today,” Greyson said, rubbing his nose with the back of his hand.

“Bless you,” Matt said, accusatory. “are you feeling okay?”

Greyson started to nod, then held up a finger as if to say, ‘hold on’. Matt waited a moment while his boss stood, waiting for another sneeze that didn’t seem to want to come. He let out a shaky breath and shook his head as if to clear it. “I’mb good,” he said, congestion already seeping into his voice. Matt had a sudden memory pop into his head – Greyson offering Elijah a bite of a short rib dish yesterday, then taking a bite himself from the same fork. Goddamn it, Greyson.

“Are you -”

“ITSZH-ue! HTSHH-uh! Fuckin – HGTSHH-ue!” Greyson suddenly collapsed into a volley of sneezes, covered only by a hand. He grimaced at the obvious mess he’d left behind and went to the sink to blow his nose and clean himself up.

“Fuck, Chef,” Matt said while Greyson washed his hands. While, like Elijah, there was no use trying to force a confession out of Greyson, Matt was much closer to the executive chef and couldn’t help accusing him. “Are you serious? This is so not the day for you to be fucking sick.”

“Oh, relax,” Greyson said, rolling his eyes. “I’mb ndot sick, it mbust be allergies or somethiii….INGTSHH-uhh! Fuck mbe,” Greyson moaned, pulling more paper towels out of the dispenser and blowing again.

“It’s not allergies,” Matt said. Greyson raised an eyebrow at his sous.

“Yeah? How do you know that, all-seeing eye?”

As if summoned, Elijah turned the corner into the prep kitchen at that moment. “Grey, good, you’re here,” he said, attempting to clear his throat. “Cand we go over verbiage for the mbenu tondight?”

Greyson pursed his lips and closed his eyes on seeing the GM. Matt’s eyes darted from Elijah to Greyson and back again, wondering how this was going to play out.

“What?” Elijah asked, sniffling.

“You fuckin’ asshole,” Greyson said, giving Elijah a little playful shove. “Why didn’t you tell me yesterday you were fuckin’ sick?”

“I’mb ndot sigck,” Elijah said, pathetically. Matt had to bite the inside of his cheek to keep from laughing; Elijah’s eyes were rimmed red, his nose was chapped from blowing, and since he’d walked through the door he hadn’t gone more than five minutes without sneezing. If you looked up ‘sick’ in the dictionary, there he’d be.

Greyson had no such tact and barked out a laugh in his boss’s face. “Yeah?” he asked, slapping a hand on Elijah’s forehead. The GM shook him off, but the damage was done. “You’re burning up,” Greyson said, his voice accusatory. Elijah flipped him the bird.

“I’mb ndot burning up, it’s just hot in the office,” Elijah said, taking a step back and crossing his arms. “Also, why the fuck are you dressed like you’re in a ndineties beach dramba?”

“I’m about to go change, but nice attempt at changing the subject,” Greyson said, leaning against the wall. “Seriously, have you taken anything?”

Elijah rolled his eyes, but nodded. “Just drop it,” Elijah said, his voice deadpan. “Why are you being such a dick about it, andyway? It’s ndot like -”

“HGTSH! HTSH! Huh… hh…”

“Oh, mbother fuck -”

“HUHESSTZCHUE!” Greyson doubled over to sneeze into his elbow, cutting his boss off not once, but twice. He gave Elijah a knowing glance over the crook of his arm and sniffled.

Elijah sighed, a congested, tired sound. “I… bless you,” he said.

“Thangks,” Greyson said, wiping his nose on the back of his hand. “Patient zero.”

“Fuck off,” Elijah said, shoving the chef. “Cand you please combe help mbe with these stupid mbenus?”

Greyson nodded, then turned back to Matt. “You said you’re all good, yeah?” he asked. Matt hadn’t; he needed help with the frosting, and wanted to make sure Greyson was okay with the way the rolls were proofing. But he nodded anyway; no use trying to separate the two of them while they were mid-squabble.

“I’m good,” Matt said. “I’ll come get you in a bit.”

Greyson nodded, then followed behind Elijah, muttering something about a plague rat. Matt could hear the slap Elijah bestowed upon him from across the kitchen.

***

Mark hated these types of events.

When he was younger, Mark had been a banquet captain for a hotel; a job he’d rather forget on most days. The nights were long, the people were always entirely too drunk, and although the pay was good, he dreaded every single shift.

Elijah had decided when the year began that Elliot’s had a goal of doing one full buyout banquet a month, a decision that made Mark’s heart sink, though he’d never let that on to his boss. Instead, he’d told Elijah all about his past banquet experience, showed the GM how to make a proper BEO, and volunteered to captain the events that his boss booked. He hated banquets, but he did love this tiny restaurant; he loved his staff and he loved his bosses and he wanted to make working there enjoyable for everyone.

Putting on a good face didn’t mean he hated it any less.

Mark yanked open the kitchen doors at noon the day of the event – an event he knew from the very moment of its booking was going to be a nightmare – and tried to get his game face on. He was going to be there until two in the morning, he was going to get his ass handed to him by some overinflated MLM Boss Babe, he was going to have to move the tables a hundred times… Mark shook his head to clear it. Becoming hyper-focused on how much this evening was going to suck wasn’t doing him any favors, that much he knew.

“Hey, Mark,” Matt said from the prep kitchen to his left. Mark stopped in his tracks and waved at the sous chef.

“Hi, Matt,” he said, smiling. “I thought you were supposed to be out of here by now? Didn’t you come in at like four in the morning?”

“Three,” Matt corrected, pulling a hand down his face in obvious exhaustion. “I’m trying to get out of here, but…” he trailed off, looking behind Mark in anticipation. Mark furrowed his brow and turned – nothing there.

“But…?” he prompted. Matt sighed.

“Greyson’s… on one,” he said, choosing his words carefully. “I can’t for the fuckin’ life of me get him to come back here.”

Mark chuckled. “When isn’t he on one?” he asked. Matt let loose a dark laugh as well. “What’s his problem?”

“HHUTSZHH-ue!”

Mark cocked his head towards the sound that came from the office in the front of the kitchen. Then, slowly, he turned back to Matt. “He’s not…”

“Both of them,” Matt answered, resting his head in his hand, an elbow propped on the prep table. “I thought maybe it wasn’t so bad when they came in this morning, but…”

“HGTSHH-uhh! Huh -”

“HTZSCHUE!”

First Elijah. Then Greyson. Rinse, repeat.

“Goddamn it,” Mark muttered. “Okay. I’ll go do damage control and send Greyson back here to check you out so you can go.”

Matt nodded. “Thanks, man,” he said, picking up a Sharpie and labeling a pan wrapped in plastic. Mark gave a nod back, and headed to the front of the kitchen.

Greyson and Elijah were both seated in the office, twin tissues held to their faces. Elijah was coughing like a man who’d just escaped a house fire, while Greyson seemed stuck in a sort of pre-sneeze torture. It would’ve been almost funny, if it weren’t so pathetic.

“Um,” Mark said, knocking on the open door and catching both his bosses off-guard. “Hey. Everything, uh… okay in here?”

Greyson let out a shaky, unresolved breath. “Yeah. All good. Hi,” he said, his voice low and stuffed-up. He hit Elijah in the arm, motioned up to Mark, and said, “Where are your mbanners?”

Elijah rolled his eyes and took a sip from a water cup of questionable age. “Hey, Mbark,” he said. The GM’s voice was nearly gone, and sounded raw, like his throat was on fire.

“You guys look great,” Mark joked, prompting a bark of a laugh from Greyson and a dead-eyed look from Elijah. “How the hell did you both manage to get sick overnight?”

“Well, sombeone was getti’g sick yesterday and didn’t tell mbe,” Greyson said, flashing a pointed look Elijah’s way. Elijah turned to the chef and placed his head in his hand; apparently, Mark was no longer invited to this conversation.

“You kndow what I was thinking,” Elijah said, his voice going out on the final syllable. He cleared his throat before continuing. “I was thinking, how do you kndow it was mbe who got you sick? Mbaybe you’re just projecting because you’re patient zero.”

“Elijah, I kndow you have a fever but let’s try to rembain in reality, shall we? You’re obviously patient zero because I was finde last ndight. You, on the other hand, were texti’g mbe ‘oh, mby allergies are so bad, I don’t know what’s bloomi’g but it -’ IGTSZZHUE! ETSHCHUE! Oh, fuckigg finally,” Greyson groaned, yanking more tissues from the box placed squarely between the two of them and blowing. Elijah coughed out a laugh.

“You were sayi’g?” he asked, smug. Greyson rolled his eyes from behind a tissue.

“Fugck off,” he said, turning back toward Mark, who assumed he’d been forgotten completely. “Did you ndeed sombething, Mbark?”

Mark nodded. “Yeah,” he said, “Matt said he needed to check out with you, Chef?”

“Oh, fugck I totally forgot Mbatt got here in the mbiddle of the ndight,” Greyson said, pushing himself to his feet too quickly. He caught hold of the desk, swaying slightly, and closed his eyes.

Elijah raised his eyebrows at Greyson, who got himself back together after a moment. “You gonnda mbake it?” he asked as the chef slowly opened his eyes. Greyson sneered.

“Screw you, Elijah, this shit is your fault,” he said, pushing his hair off of his sweaty forehead.

Elijah looked to Mark. “Cand you please tell me what kind of fever he’s sporting?” he asked. Mark set his jaw; he really didn’t want to get in the middle of this whole thing… but Elijah was his direct report. He didn’t have much choice; without warning the chef first, Mark placed a hand on Greyson’s forehead.

Greyson pulled away as quick as he could. “Back off,” he snarled, pushing past Mark to relieve Matt in the back kitchen. Mark shrank back as the chef breezed by; he really could be scary when he wanted to be.

“Sorry,” Elijah said when Greyson was out of earshot. “He shouldn’t be such an ass to you.”

Mark shrugged. “I get it. It sucks working when you don’t feel well. He definitely has a fever,” the floor manager said. Elijah nodded and Mark gave him a pointed look. “You look like you do, too.”

Elijah gave a little half-shrug back. “Ndothing I haven’t worked through before,” he said. “Huhh...HGTSHH-ue! Huh! ETSHZHUE!” The GM wrenched away from Mark to sneeze painfully towards the door. Mark flinched in sympathy.

“Bless,” he said. “So… how are we going to handle tonight?”

Elijah turned sluggishly back towards Mark and sniffled, an unproductive, squelching sound. “You tell mbe,” he said, his voice all but gone, “captaind.”

Fuck.

***

“You do it.”

“No fuckin’ way. This is on you, dude. I’m one foot out the door.”

“Matt, you’ve been saying that since two PM and now it’s ten. Clearly you’re not one foot out the door.”

Matt shot Mark a look, but he couldn’t deny the truth in his statement. But how the fuck could he have left earlier? When Greyson had come to the back kitchen to dismiss him hours before, the chef had nearly passed out just from the walk. He never would’ve said that he needed Matt to stay; he wasn’t that kind of guy. He was the guy who worked until he literally passed out without even asking for a hand to grab before he fell. Both he and Elijah were.

So, without being asked, Matt stayed for the event. He prepped with the line cooks, while Mark helped the servers prepare the dining room, and both of them attempted to corral their bosses into resting in the office.

“Are you sure you don’t ndeed mbe to at least sear off the short ribs?” Greyson had asked, white-knuckling the prep table that Matt was working at. “Seriously, Mbatt, you don’t have to do everythigg.”

“I don’t need you to sear the short ribs,” Matt said, gently guiding his boss back to a chair. “Please. Just sit down, it hurts me to watch you… breathe.”

“Mbark, at least let mbe fold ndapkins for your or something,” Elijah had insisted, swaying in the middle of the dining room. Mark had to nearly run to keep his boss from face-planting at the host stand.

“Lij, we have an army on,” Mark said. “Go rest, please. We’ll need you for service.”

The two ill men had eventually given up on asking to help their counterparts. The staff, a truly well-oiled machine, had worked around them, narrowly avoiding being coughed or sneezed on, until the event started.

Once the hosts of the event arrived, Greyson and Elijah pulled themselves together enough to at least look like figureheads. Greyson hoarsely shouted orders in the kitchen, while Elijah helped the servers organize their tables and schmoozed the hosts. Against all odds, it had gone smoothly, and once the food was out both Elijah and Greyson stumbled back into the office, sunk down into the waiting tablecloth nest, and passed out.

Which led them to now.

“I don’t want to wake them, dude,” Matt said. “They’re so mean when they’re sick.”

“Well obviously I don’t want to wake them, either,” Mark countered. “But one of us has to do it, the hosts aren’t going to leave till they can say goodb -”

“HGTSHH!” Greyson woke himself with a massive sneeze, which shook Elijah awake.

“Fuck, mbust you be so goddamn loud?” Elijah asked, his voice cracking. Greyson flashed him an annoyed look.

“Oh, mby sincere apologies, ndext time I have an uncontrollable bodily functiond occur I’ll mbake sure to think about your combfort beforehand,” he said, pushing his hair into a small bun on the back of his head.

“Mbuch appreciated,” Elijah said, slowly sitting up. The two of them turned, almost simultaneously, to the younger men standing at the door. “...yes?” Elijah asked.

Matt elbowed Mark, who gave him a fleeting dirty look. “Um,” Mark said, “the, uh, hosts wanted to say goodbye to you guys if you’re… up for it.”

Elijah nodded, but Greyson was the first to push himself to a standing position. “Just stay there, old mban, you’re sicker than mbe and obviously worse at keeping your germbs to yourself.” Greyson pushed past Mark and Matt, placing a hand on his sous chef’s shoulder before exiting the kitchen.

“Thangk you for stayi’g,” he said. “Ndow go hombe before I kick you out.”

Matt smiled a bit. “Yes, Chef,” he said. “Um… feel better.”

Greyson nodded and disappeared through the doors to the dining room. When Mark turned away from the swinging doors, Elijah was also standing.

“You go, too, Mbark,” he said, straightening his glasses and smoothing his sleep-wrinkled shirt as best he could. “We ndeed both of you well rested for the rest of the week. Great job tondi- IGTSZH-uhh! Snrf.” Elijah didn’t bother finishing his sentence, just smiled at Mark and rubbed his chapped nose.

“Bless,” Mark said, “and thank you. It did go well, didn’t it?”

“Well as it could’ve,” Elijah said, one hand on the swinging door. “Ndight,” he said, and followed behind Greyson.

Matt and Mark exchanged a knowing look when both their bosses exited the kitchen.

“We totally ran a restaurant today,” Matt said, a smile creeping onto his lips. Mark laughed.

“Yeah,” he said, “we kind of did, didn’t we?”

The moment of elation sat between them like a birthday balloon, bright and taut enough to pop, until they heard a massive, “HGTSHHZUE!” from the dining room, followed by coughing, followed by motherly-sounding tutting from the hosts of the event.

“Let’s get out of here,” Mark said, and Matt nodded.

“Before they change their minds,” he said.

The two of them rushed out the back of the kitchen into the late-summer-evening heat. “Hey,” Mark said, before they went their separate ways. “I know you’ve had a long day, but would you like to go get a drink with me?”

Matt smiled, and turned toward the other man. “Yeah,” he said, “yeah, I definitely would.”

#snz #sickfic #snzfic #coldfic #snez #snzblr #male cold #male snz #contagion #whiskeyswriting #coughing #vertigo #feverfic #fever

[trivialbob]

Tonight we had a six dogs for Christmas Eve dinner here at TrivialBob’s home. Sheila, my dad, Jack, his girlfriend Ali, and my BIL Bill were here too.

Pictured above is Bella, Lily (with me), Stella, Sulley, Ella, and Oliver. Bella, Lily, Ali (not pictured), and I had coordinated outfits. Normally I abhor matching clothing, but I make an exception on Christmas Eve. With these six dogs there are just two blue eyes, neither one on the same dog.

Sheila and Bill made pizzas with homemade crust and sauce. Though not perfectly round (subtract two points) the pizzas tasted fantastic. I ate so much I barely had room for beer. Barely.

At Christmas, Thanksgiving, and usually one other day per year I dearly wish I had two dishwashers. I hate starting my solo Kitchenaid when I can’t fit everything in it.

These high-efficiency machines run for three hours. Did we learn nothing from the nationwide 55 MPH speed limit in the 70s and early 80s? I’m staying up late to empty the only dishwasher and load the remaining dirty glassware before I retire. Everyone else has gone to bed, so I’ll enjoy a little bourbon and quiet time as I clean up. Waking to a messy kitchen is the worst. I’ll try to be quiet and not wake the people sleeping here tonight. They’ll appreciate it in the morning when Sheila cooks breakfast and... oh no, she’s going to mess up the kitchen again!

Jack made cookies for Ali’s family Christmas gathering tomorrow. He likes to bake. I like how he didn’t just mix red and green sprinkles willy-nilly; he kept them to separate sides like feuding neighbors.

I wish all of you happy holidays and peace.

#Pet your dogs for me tonight #australian shepherds #mostly

[baby-alien11]

Y/N Ulrich Universe First Anniversary

taglist: @volturi-girl-imagines @dessxoxsworld @camiesully @ethanlandryluver @nowitsmissing @aliciacat20 @gabbylovesreading @nikfigueiredo @itsaaliyah2

She got the title of the 'Ghostface Princess' when she started to do content of Scream on social media

The title of 'Serpent Princess' was because the cast f Riverdale started to call her that during filming and interviews

While rehearsing for Carrie: The Musical, she was Chris Hargenssen while Spencer, her boyfriend at the time, was playing Tommy Ross, and during one rehearsal, she pulled the rope with the bucket (empty) and accidentally hit him in the back, he was okay, only a bruise for a few days (they broke up in january because he moved to Iowa)

The one sided feud with Kira started because she thought Y/N last name was weird and funny, until she found out who was her father

Sometimes when she doesn't have space in her room or closet, she uses her siblings room as storage room

She knows how to play piano

Her favorite book series is PJO and The Selection

Her favorite fashion houses are Vivienne Westwood and D&G

She became a TS fan during 2011 after seeing the music video of Our Song, and the rest is history, she has been to three tours: 1989 with her family and friend group, the Rep Stadium Tour again with family and friend group, and recently to The Eras Tour with Jack

The first horror movie she saw wasn't Scream, it was Alien

Her first kiss was with Sarah, before entering high school they were talking on how both of them haven't had their fisrt kiss yet, so they decided to kiss so that way they didn't regret having it with some other person

She already knows that when her wedding day comes, the song for the dad-daughter dance is going to be 'Never Grow Up' by TS or 'Slipping Through My Fingers' fom ABBA, Skeet agreed to that because the songs makes him emotional

She was in the teather club since elementary school, participating in Beauty and the Beast as Plumette, Grease as Sandy, The Little Mermaid as Vanessa, Matilda as Matilda, Bring It On as Eva, Hairspray as Penny, Les Mis as Cosette, West Side Story as Graziela, Carrie The Musical as Chris Hargenssen, her last role was going to be Sophie in Mamma Mia until pandemic started

Once a year, Y/N and her siblings have a small golf competition

Her first fashion campaign was with Kate Spade at 14

One ime during the filming of Scream VI, Melissa and Xavier adopted her for a day having a family day

The first thing she bought with her first salary as a Riverdale extra was her Prada nylon purse and bobba tea

(This is going to hurt) Luke Perry was like a second father to her, when Skeet had to film a violent scene, he would always distract her, helping her with homework or things like that, also attending her school plays, so when he died, she didn't left her room for a week because she coulnd't stop crying,even if the memorial was held at the Ulrich household, and when TS released evermore, she did a cover of Marjorie in his honor that she posted on Tik Tok

Her favorite movie is Corpse Bride, and always cries during the Emily song and the final scene

Her campaigns with brands include Pretty Little Thing, H&M, Coach, Hot Topic, Kate Spade, Killstar, Rare Beauty, Nyx, Charlotte Tilbury, alo, BaiBai Jewerly, Oh Polly, Tous, Armani, Club L London, Petco (ft Tatum), Dolls Kill, Cloe, KitchenAid

Her fashion icons are Zendaya, Cher, Princess Diana, Rihanna, Audrey Hepburn, Lewis Hamilton, Bratz, Monster High, Nicole Kidman, Blake Lively, Marilyn Monroe, Salma Hayek, Grace Kelly, Anne Hathaway

The love for VFX make up started when Skeet was telling her BTS facts about Scream, and it considelating during season two of Riverdale while helping with Cole Sprouse make up at the end of season two when he is beaten up by the Ghoulies

Besides the Southside Serpents leather jacket, she has a Vixens uniform (and all the variations), a Bulldogs football shirt, a Jughead beanie, a Pops uniform, Pussycats ears, a S shirt, letterman jacket, a Pretty Poisons jacket, and a 'Farm' shirt

Due to having family in NASCAR and with interest on racing, she learnt to drive at fourteen, and also knows how a motorcycle works

She (as almost everyone), had an 'all black clothes' phase, until she missed combining it with colorful clothes

Her favorite youtube horror cannels are dead meat and CZsWorld, and non-horror are uncarley, WatchMojo and Ms Mojo, Wait in the Wings, Spill Sesh, haylo hayley, Tea Spill

After meeting Jack, the song that she started to hear in her head was 'Enchanted'

Her first Ghostface mask was gifted by Wes Craven, after Skeet called him to tell him she watched the movies, the next week she recieved the mask with a handwritten letter

A F1 driver tried to hit on her two days after her 18 birthday, she left him on read (we all know who was at this point)

As almost every nepo baby, she got a bit of hate when she started to be a public figure, but ignored them, until they started to talk about her relationship with Jack and she couldn't ignore them

She knows all the Riverdale musical numbers and coreographies from season one to season five episode three

Since becoming best friends Y/N, Sarah and Abby anways practiced coreographies during sleepovers, the last time they presented them, where at the halloween party doing Sexy by Mean Girls Musical, Vigilante Shit by TS (chairs included) and Honey, Honey from Mamma Mia (ABBA)

Her favorite F1 teams are RB, Mercedes and Ferrari and drivers are Sergio 'Checo' Pérez, Lewis Hamilton, Sebastian Vettel, Michael and Mick Schumacher, Max Verstappen, Dorianne Pin, Abbi Pulling, Pierre Gasly, Niki Lauda, Alex Albon, Yuki Tsonuda, Carlos Sainz Jr, Charles Leclerc, and queen Susie Wolff, and has extreme admiration for Romain Grosjean for getting out of the car on fire

Her phone case is the Casetify snake one, she just changes it depending on the model of phone she uses

#y/n ulrich universe #baby alien creations #jack champion #jack champion x reader #jack champion scream #jack champion imagine #scream

[mason-ajar]

hiii mason - this is transmasckagami :) do you have favorite fics for kagamido? I’d love to read some. Also, I love your art! Your style is so fun and you capture every character’s personality so well ❤️ thank u for sharing it with us!

HAII this is soso sweet and it means a lot 2 me, thank u so much !!! *(^o^)*

i could say the same for u :3 ur art is so fantastical and scrumptious and it’s always a delight to see u post !!!

in comparison to some other ships, there’s definitely a lot less content to dig through (see kagamido’s 128 fics to aokaga’s 2,890, what a ratio !), so heres my faves, in no particular order ^_^

message recieved - half_sleeping : rated T

wordcount: 7k

“You're the one who mailed me.”

lest i spoil too much, i gotta say i just LOVE how midorima is characterized in this one. just a fretting teenage boy. and, despite their limited appearances, the takamido friendship on the side is just so funny and iconic !

food is a love language - zelan : rated G

wordcount: 1k

“Midorima tries and fails to cook. Kagami turns things around.”

exactly what it says on the tin, and perfectly so ! adorable

not a surprise party - zelan : rated T

wordcount: 200

"Midorima Shintaro hates surprises."

short and sweet texting fic by the same author of the last fic, love the ending kekekeke ^3^

to my heartbeat’s sound - voices_in_my_head : rated G

wordcount: 800

"It isn’t long before one of his uproarious laughs has made its way out of his throat, Shintarou giving a slight smile in response. He doesn’t care if they go for that walk or not, if he ends up with cupcakes or something else, he’s just happy to be here, enjoying his time with Taiga."

simple and plain kagamido domesticity fluff ^v^ need u ask for more ?

to live for one's self - justlikeswitchblades : rated T

wordcount: 1k

"There are two unshakeable constants in Midorima’s life—his hands, and his pride.

A third element, threatening the latter of the two, consists of the tears burning in his eyes."

angst, internalized homophobia, emotional hurt/comfort: truly a danger trio of tags !! (x_x) a short but impactful and memorable fic that i really enjoyed, i just like how their relationship is portrayed

with me, with you - hilaryfaye : rated G

wordcount: 2.9k

“I know that your concept of ‘fun’ is warped, but unlike one of us I like being able to take regular hot showers and eating food that isn’t under a layer of grease.” Shintarou picked over his salad, frowning at it as if the vegetables were to blame for Taiga’s insistence on a “road trip.”

kagami and midorima go on a roadtrip, and end up talking about things that have remained unspoken about. a good few years into the future; another domestic one that i really enjoyed *v*

eyes on the prize - hips_of_steel : not rated

wordcount: 800

"Kagami drags Midorima to a basketball game at an American high school, which happens to have a raffle going on at the same time…with a KitchenAid mixer being the item Kagami has his eyes on."

kagami wants that kitchenaid mixer BAD, and midorima is a little shit :3 very funny and in character !

aren't you - tsuukai : rated T

wordcount: 1.5k

"Where it starts off as Midorima directing the recipe, but it's actually Kagami doing the work, though it really wasn’t about food this time around anyway."

more kagamido cooking shenanigans ! they cook and kiss, talk about their feelings and have unfortunate experiences at the grocery store. just a fun slice of life !!

sorry this took a bit; despite having an ao3 account for a good few years i haven't been utilizing the bookmarks feature until recently and have just been saving them in a google bookmarks folder. so without any way to filter or know what ship each link is... i bet you can imagine why it took so long...

thank you for this ask again, it was nice to reread about my faves ! happy reading :D

#i love to yap and talk forever #muah muah muagh i love my pookies #tbh i probably missed some because of how much is in my knb fic folder #i simply don't have the bandwidth to go through and open over 100 links again !! #knb #kurobas #kuroko no basket #kurokos basketball #kagami taiga #midorima shintarou #kagamido #midokaga #mason stop talking #been a while since that tags been used !

[annakie]

My family was supposed to all be out of town by now, but Stuff happened and they're not leaving til next week.

Asked my mom on Sunday if we were going to do any kind of Thanksgiving and she was like "Oh I bought sliced turkey at the deli!" Me: lol no

Spent an hour or so googling for options and H.E.B. (Texas grocery chain) had a full Thanksgiving dinner for four (4 - 6 lb Turkey, mashed potatoes, stuffing, sweet potato casserole, green bean casserole, gravy and real cranberry sauce), all pre-cooked, and for under $100. Just unbox, stick it in the oven for an hour, and voila, easy dinner.

So I ordered that. They bought some pie when they went to Walmart, mom's making bread from scratch because she loves using her Kitchenaid stand mixer for bread, I bought a little cheese tray for appetizers, and we've got the easiest Thanksgiving ever for four.

Went to pick it up and:

A) Forgot that everyone gets out of work early today thus getting on the road at 2pm was like usually getting on the road at 5pm, especially heading away from downtown.

B) Forgot how far this grocery store was. I used to work right by there and completely forgot how much I hated that commute. I took the tollways. Worth it.

C) HOLY CRAP the grocery store parking lot was like Mad Max. Trying to get in and this idiot cut me off badly before getting into the parking lot, then I guess they got scared when I followed them into the parking lot and were driving erratically trying to get away from me? Even though I was just, you know, being normal. Maybe they were just THAT dumb. Then they nearly hit a family on foot while making a shitty blind turn. Terrifying. I offered the family my dashcam footage, but since nobody was hurt and they were leaving, they just wanted to get out.

D) CANNOT IMAGINE what it was like in that store, the parking lot looked FULL full. Thank the retail gods for curbside pickup. Didn't have to get out of the car. Wasn't allowed to tip the girl who brought the groceries out. =\ Only downside is that I'd ordered an extra side of pre-made Parmesan Garlic carrots for more veggies. They substituted the carrots for more green beans. Nobody in my family likes green beans much already. :p

E) Driving home was almost as bad, but traffic was better going south.

F) Thought it would take me 45 minutes. Entire trip took an hour and a half. Glad to be home.

G) I hate putting groceries away. The box with dinner juuuuust barely fits in my fridge. I had to duct tape the door shut. No, I'm not kidding. :D IT'S FINE. It's for like, 18 hours!

#personal post tag thingy #thanksgiving stuff

[copperbadge]

[ID: Two images of my new kitchen hutch, which is about 32″ high (roughly 2 1/2 feet or a little less than a meter). In the first image it is complete except for the drawers on the left side, which have yet to be installed; Polk the tabby is climbing into the place where the drawers will be, investigating curiously. In the second image, the hutch is complete, with four drawers on the left and a door with shelving on the right. In both, it sits under a table that extends from the windowsill, and shares the under-table space with a large round container and, atop the container, my pressure cooker.]

It’s a little crazy to frame it this way but with this little kitchen hutch I’ve doubled the drawer space in my kitchen. (It’s...a small kitchen.) I finally have one place to keep all of the bits and pieces of accessories for my KitchenAid! Much of my bread-baking stuff (brotforms, gluten-free flour) is in the shelving on the right. 

Most of NaClYoHo for yesterday and today was spent assembling this beast; once I assembled and installed the drawers today I spent a while considering how to use them, and then I went around the house doing a general pick-up, because I’m traveling at the end of this week and I like to make the place tidy for the catsitter. When I’m organizing I don’t mind mess because I know that’s part of the process, but the boxes to ship to charity didn’t NEED to sit in front of the entry to the kitchen, and the suitcase full of clothing to donate can go back to the hallway for a bit. Usually I’m really good about putting away clean laundry and keeping dirty laundry in the hamper, but because it was a long weekend I got lazy about it, so I’ve also hung up “trousers that can be worn one more time” and put “the sweater I wore every day last week” into the hamper and such. 

Listened to the latest episode of Holy Shit I Have ADHD, which is a podcast by and for people who have had adult ADHD diagnoses; I’m not sure if I’m going to keep listening because while it is like...I don’t know, I guess it’s relatable, I’m not sure it’s really informative. I don’t really feel like I need more relatable ADHD content in my life, I’d rather have news and research, though I did appreciate one of the hosts talking about how much he dislikes Discord. In any case, that was about an hour’s worth of work, and after doing a few dishes I’m now on the sofa preparing to watch some TV. 

#naclyoho #cleaning #salty pirates

[haute-lifestyle-com]

I review products for Amazon and they sent me a KitchenAid Automatic Expresso machine with touch control screen and pre-programmed recipes for barista drinks. Awesome! #janetwalker #hautelifestylecom #theentertainmentzonecom #kitchenaid #amazon #espresso #coffee #coffeemakers #espressomakers #housewares

#janet walker #haute-lifestyle.com #the-entertainment-zone.com #the wednesday killer #the assassins of fifth avenue #the manhattan project #awesome #Project 13 The Last Day #expresso #coffee #expresso machines #kitchenaid #housewares #The Six Sides of Truth #Coffee machines

[brostateexam]

I've been using a Kitchenaid mixer for years. My mom bought me one for Hannukah one year because in her opinion it's the best kind of mixer, and honestly she's probably right. It has a dough hook attachment and a whisk attachment. It beats the shit out of stuff and it does it well.

I've never liked it. I hate that it has one big paddle or whisk in the center. I hate that the bowl doesn't rotate. I hate that I have to use some kind of small, thin rubber spatula to make sure everything mixes in -- a fundamental issue with having one big attachment in the center is that it flings everything out to the sides like the world's most annoying centrifuge -- and that, due to the relative size of the attachment versus the bowl, the spatula will collide with the attachment if I'm not careful and make one of the Worst Sounds you have ever heard in your life. I literally dread using this thing. I haul it out when I have to and every time I look at it, I'm like "OK, I don't like this, but it's so efficient."

Enter the Sunbeam. When I was a kid, my mom had a Sunbeam, and I just assumed they weren't made any more because if you go in a department store, it's all Kitchenaid. I found out they were still in business like a few years ago and resolved to think about buying one for myself, someday, if I could figure out what to do with my current mixer.

A few weeks ago, I saw a vintage Sunbeam that still works from approximately the late 70s at a flea market for $75. I knew I needed it from the moment I saw it. Yesterday, I used it to whip egg whites for my cheesecake and it was so great! It is everything I've been missing. No stupid centrifuge motion, no non moving bowl (it sits on a turntable that spins because of the rotation of the beaters), and with two beaters, things don't get gummed up as bad. There are no sad thunks or mechanical whines that make me grind my teeth.

All of this is to say that if you use a tool that you really can't stand, maybe consider getting a different tool.

#my sister is getting a gently used Kitchenaid for Christmas

[keelywolfe]

FIC: A Little Salty ch.2 (baon)

Summary: The second half of 'A Little Salty', Stretch gets to deal with the fallout. He knows what he did.

Tags:  Spicyhoney, Established Relationships, Humor, Established Alphys/Undyne

Part of the ‘by any other name’ series.

~~*~~

Read it on AO3

or

Read it here!

~~*~~

So, it was possible today wasn’t going exactly how Stretch intended.

When Edge got home from work, he went directly to the kitchen, barely taking the time to drop his laptop bag by the closet door with a pointed thump, and he had yet to come out. Stretch was still deciding if that was a good or a bad thing. Sure, he got to avoid the argument for now but there was something to be said for getting it out of the way and freeing up the rest of the evening. Wasn’t like Stretch could delay the inevitable forever.

Not that Edge actually told him what happened with Stretch’s little surprise gift, nope, didn’t need to. Gossip that tasty hit the streets with light speed and he’d heard the entire story from three different sources, including the mailman, before Asgore called and politely asked him to keep their prank war a little closer to home. Which…yeah, a dressing down from Ass-gore was pretty fucking low on his bucket list, for sure, especially a gracious and kindly meant one.

He'd seen the video from the security feed since then, sent to him from an ‘anonymous source’, fuck you, Red, and right now he was counting himself pretty lucky Edge hadn’t come home with gift-wrapped divorce papers. Stretch was ignoring all incoming text messages now, including the one Jeff sent of his name photoshopped onto a tombstone, ouch, man, way to shovel dirt in the open grave.

Yeah, it wasn’t supposed to have gone like this, not at all, and if his plans were a little on the haphazard side at times, okay, maybe always, it wasn’t like this scenario was anywhere on the storyboard.

The powerful whirr of the KitchenAid mixer kicked on again, not a great sign, and Stretch flopped back on the sofa and sighed. All fucking hells, it’d been a while since one of his pranks had gone so spectacularly wrong. Not since the Great Noodle Incident that was still spoken of in hushed tones to this very day. A shame no one was being very hushed about this one, which double sucked because if there was one thing that Edge, oh, so loved, it was being in the public eye. Oh, yeah, his favorite, right behind dirty shoes on clean carpet and smoking in his car.

It wasn’t like he’d meant for it to go down this way, it’d just been a joke, was all. A little combination revenge for his own licorice assault a few months back and something that might possibly get a laugh. They could use a little humor after everything got so serious the past few weeks. From California explosions to the kidnapping, chuckles had been pretty few and far between.

This was one of the times he maybe should’ve put his questionable sense of humor up against a few other people, done some investigating before going balls out. If he’d asked Andy, maybe, or Blue, or his therapist or fuck, gone all man in the street and asked any passerby on the sidewalk they probably would have all come to the same conclusion. Probably the whole snakes in a can gag was better saved for someone who didn’t go ‘rawr, attack!’ when startled, not a good idea, nope.

Seriously, though, it was supposed to be funny! What was supposed to happen was Edge opened the package in his office, jumped out of his non-existent skin and once his soul stopped pounding, Stretch would get either a furious text or call from Edge and then a tastily pissed off husband when he got home, ripe for some nice, rough sex.

What he got was…this. An unspeaking husband in the kitchen, committing flagrant atrocities on baked goods. Didn’t exactly go as plan, hell, the plan was currently off-road in Timbuktu with a broken compass, trying to find a map and a tour guide.

So now Edge was in the kitchen without bothering to pass go or collect two hundred bucks, and he’d been cooking ever since. But not like, good cooking, not dinner or snacks, oh, no. This was the bad cooking, danger cooking that threw out neon warning signs, this was the kind of cooking that produced items made with violence or a furious spice level that required a warning label, maybe even a skull and crossbones and not in a happy skeleton friend sort of way. The one time Jeff accidentally ate one of the ghost pepper buns from Edge’s last snit, Stretch damn near called the kid an ambulance. Healing magic was good but even the best healer would struggle to measure up against capsaicin that hit a few million on the Scoville scale.

Welp. Sitting here wallowing was fixing nothing. Time to face the music and see how well he could dance.

He approached the kitchen door cautiously, a shortcut in easy reach, not because he thought Edge would hurt him, but because he was a chickenshit and it was always best to have an escape route.

The sheer number of mixing bowls on the counter was not encouraging. Neither was the fact that Edge was literally still wearing his suit jacket, the sleeves only pushed up as he kneaded a ball of dough with a fury usually reserved for piñatas or Sith lords or something. The whole situation made Stretch wish he had a Magic 8 ball to let him know if ‘try again later’ was the better option.

Edge didn’t look up. “I am not speaking to you.”

Welp, now or never. Stretch tucked his hands into his pockets, shuffling his socked feet on the tile. His bony big toe was starting to poke through the one on the left. "okay, in my defense, you were supposed to open it in your office."

Edge kept his eye lights on the bread dough, flipping it over and slapping it down on the countertop like maybe he was imagining doing to Stretch if he was in reach. "If that is your idea of an apology, I suggest you call your brother now to see if his guest room is available."

Ouch, yeah, serious damage control time. “nope, haven't even begun to grovel yet, babe. i'm really sorry.”

"Are you?” That neutral tone almost made him abort, danger, danger Will Robinson, try again later, much later, haul his ass to the guest room without complaint and take his brother’s lecture. Edge was past the point of being mad and well into wounded, shit, shit. “Do you have any idea what my day has been like?"

"i can guess you're gonna tell me," Stretch mumbled under his breath.

"To begin with, Asgore has been calling me Quick Draw McGraw all day."

“heh, that’s a good one…um, i mean, that's awful,” Stretch said earnestly, “i always said he was a dick.”

Edge went on as if he hadn’t spoken. “Someone left a cowboy hat on my desk. Janice swears no one went in my office so that leaves my brother, sans, or you.”

Or maybe Janice but Stretch wisely didn’t add that. “woah, nelly. i had nothing to do with that, seriously.”

Edge paused and finally looked up, and Stretch was fairly sure the furious crimson glow of his eye lights was like a glimpse into the banked fires at the inner depths of hell. He would swear on his own soul he could see Satan in the back, lounging on his throne and waiting for Lil Nas to twerk his way down. “Is that a joke?”

“hold your hors—” Fucking hell, he was going to be sleeping on the sofa for a year. “i mean, no! the mouth goes off on its own, sometimes, i don't mean anything by it."

Now that Edge had him in his sights, he kept Stretch pinned there, his eye lights filling his sockets with a fiery abyss. "Undyne sent out a memo for people to sign up for target practice with me. So far, thirty people have signed up, including such gems as Billy the Squid and Busted Bronco Butkus. So to be clear, I have no interest in speaking with you or my brother right now or in the foreseeable future.”

Wait, what? Okay, he already had one skeleton on the crimson spectrum pissed at him, he did not need a second, “don’t be mad at red, he didn't have anything to do with this, babe, i promise." Edge only stared at him and Stretch was honestly stung, he’d promised. “i wouldn't lie about that."

"I am aware,” Edge said, and it was pretty impressive that he still looked like an extra from Dante’s Inferno, considering his voice was about two steps below ice chips. Hell was freezing over right in front of him. “But Red is vanishingly unlikely to allow a package to be brought to my office without inspecting it himself so he may not have been involved at the inception, but he certainly was by the endgame."

Okay, okay, he’d had enough space to vent, now that Edge was dragging in other semi-innocent players, it was time to start working on reparations.

"look. what do i have to do to make it up to you?" Stretch asked sincerely, then his mouth promptly ruined it, because come on, even though he’d cringed through the entire video, it was still funny as fuck. He didn’t blame Edge for being angry, hell no, but. "sexual favors? self-flagellation? could go old school, setup some stocks downtown with a wagonful of rotten tomatoes.”

Edge looked down at his gloveless hands. They were covered in flour and bits of dough, but his fingertips were still visibly sharp, puncturing the soft dough easily as he dug them in, gouging wide holes through the spongy exterior. He said, very softly, "I could have hurt someone."

Oh. Stretch’s eye lights shrank to pinpricks, guilt thickening at the back of his mouth, sour and unable to be swallowed away. That…was not funny. "babe…"

"Asgore would hardly have felt it,” Edge went on, so softly, “but Janice was there. Undyne. Catty. I could have hurt them."

“wait…i didn’t…babe.” Stretch choked on the words, stumbled to a stop, wanting to beg Edge to do the same and he couldn’t, because he was right, fuck, why didn’t Stretch think this through more, why did he just—

Edge took a deep breath, let it out slowly and started kneading again, more measured and less punishing. "What I want is for you to apologize to me and mean it."

Yeah, that wasn’t going to be a problem. Stretch stepped up to the counter and reached out. "hey." He lightly touched the backs of Edge’s hands, stilling them. "i'm sorry. i am. pretty fucking obvious i didn't think it through very well. i…i'm so sorry.” Blurted out, tried to push every drop of sincerity he possessed into the words, wanting Edge to believe him without promises. “i never wanted you to be afraid of hurting someone, ever, not for a million dollars in a million years over a million lifetimes.”

"I know,” Edge said. He looked up again and his eye lights were calmer, not with the indulgent adoration that Stretch was pretty used to by now, but hell, he’d take it. “Thank you. I accept your apology." He continued kneading for a beat then added, "Now, what were you saying about sexual favors?"

The sudden flood of relief left him giddy, that silken question a panacea to his pains. "heh,” Stretch grinned, “trying to double dip, are we?"

Edge glanced up at him, brow bone rising. "Is that the sexual favor? Because it hardly sounds impressive."

Stretch looked at him through hooded sockets, caught the tip of his tongue lightly between his teeth. He let his voice drop to the throaty purr that always made Edge’s eye lights go dark and heated as he said, "baby love, i haven't even begun to sexual your favors."

The best apologies were the ones they could both enjoy.

~~*~~

Later, with Stretch asleep against him, Edge was looking at his phone. They were both still bare and faintly damp with sweat, Stretch sprawled half on top of him, loose-limbed and exhausted as he curled around Edge, unbothered by the glow of the screen. Edge was pleasantly aching in several key places from what turned out to be a very thorough apology, but not yet ready to sleep. He was scrolling through his email when a text buzzed.

you gonna tell him you were the one to send him the security feed vid?

He tapped out a one-handed reply: I’m sure I have no idea what you’re talking about.

heh. always were a straight shooter, boss

Edge did not reply, but he did delete the message.

Stretch might have a way with pranks and puns, but he would always be the captain of revenge.

-finis

#spicyhoney #papcest #keelywolfe #underfell #underswap #underfell papyrus #underswap papyrus #by any other name

[kikizoshi]

I keep trying to understand it, but there are a few things about the Rakuyo that I'm having trouble with.

When combined, it's like a spear, and used for spear-like thrust attacks, but then doesn't that render the blade at the back pointless? Is there an attack that utilises it, or is one end of the Rakuyo, as a double-sided sword, kinda pointless?

How is it carried? I saw on the Old Hunters soundtrack cover art that the long sword part seems to have a fancy scabbard (which is so long I assume it's carried on the back), but the hilt is sticking from the top, so it's clearly not in combined mode. So where is the shorter, dagger-like piece stored? In a separate scabbard at the hip? Or stuck into a boot?

How exactly does the Rakuyo combine? I can't tell if it somehow snaps in like a lego, snaps in and twists like a Kitchenaid whisk, or the dagger-like end has more of a round clothespin base and the two end prongs are what snap into the longer piece.

If Lady Maria has to stab herself when she enters phase two, but not when she enters phase three, does that mean that what she needed was her blood to coat the sword? If she carried a vial of her own blood (pun intended), could she use that to coat the sword instead and skip skewering herself?

Do we know how/why Lady Maria's third phase has her wielding fire? Is fire bending a known Vileblood skill?

#Nov. 2022 #bloodborne #rakuyo #bloodborne rakuyo #bloodborne lady maria #bloodborne maria #lady maria of the astral clocktower #questions I'll hopefully be able to answer someday

[motownfiction]

i saw you from afar

Linda is hosting a family reunion this year. It’s a big step, according to Daniel, seeing as she’d isolated herself far away from her side when she was married to Frank. It’s been ten years since the divorce, Linda is now a grandmother, and she wants to make things right. So for the first time in years, she stops acting like Mrs. DeLuca, sprung from the suburban ground fully formed with a Kitchenaid mixer in her hands, and remembers how to be Linda, who grew up loved on the South side.

And, as the uncle to Linda’s first grandchild, Sam is invited to the reunion.

For the first hour, it’s a pretty good party. Lots of hugging, even and especially from people Sam has never met. Loud music, two and a half decades behind, which Sam doesn’t mind. He’s a big fan of Lou Rawls. Love is a hurtin’ thing, after all. Everybody takes turns holding his year-old nephew, Michael, and there’s a newly twenty-one-year-old cousin in the corner, pretending to like beer but dumping it into Linda’s plants whenever he thinks people aren’t looking. Sam smiles. He’s only twenty-four, but he remembers being that kid.

And then a fucking model walks in. Walks in and right up to the kid dumping his beer into the potted plants.

Apparently, this is the beer kid’s brother. Daniel’s cousin Eddie. He looks a little like if you brought a commemorative plate of Elvis to life, which, at five years old, Sam once tried to do. He’s gorgeous, and Sam can’t stop looking at him. When Sam asks Daniel about him, he says he’s twenty-six and working on a Ph.D. at Wayne State. His parents are really proud, Daniel says. And then he points at Sam in recognition.

“Oh, you’d probably like him,” he says. “He’s getting a Ph.D. in history, but he writes about music history. Something about the pop-star-making machine.”

Sam’s heart does the waltz clog. This can’t be fucking real.

Eventually, he walks over to Daniel’s cousin Eddie. When they make eye contact, they recognize each other. They know what to do. The conversation’s friendly, but they both know they’re flirting.

“So, Daniel tells me you write about pop stars,” Sam says. “How about that Fabian?”

Eddie lets out a surprised laugh. Sam couldn’t be prouder.

“You know, I think you’re the first person other than my dissertation chair to ask me about Fabian,” he says. “Most people want to know about Tiffany.”

Sam shakes his head.

“Why would I wanna know about Tiffany?” he asks. “I lived through Tiffany.”

Eddie laughs.

“I prefer to look at it as surviving Tiffany,” he says.

Sam shrugs.

“What can I say?” he asks again. “I’m a sucker for ‘Shivers.’”

Eddie winks at him and says, “What can I say? So am I.”

No matter where Eddie goes around the house, Sam’s eyes can’t seem to stop following him. And every time, Eddie seems to look back at him – to really see him there. Sam’s throat is dry no matter how much Coke he drinks, no matter how often he switches to water. This is different than Sadie’s friend Jimmy in ‘86, from other guys he’s met at concerts and record stores around the city since then. Something about the way Eddie looks at him. Something about big brown eyes and that smile – smart, smarter than most people, but not arrogant about it. Something that feels familiar even though they’ve only just met.

They find their way back to each other in the backyard, behind the garage. Sam takes back a few garbage bags, and Eddie leans up against the wall with a cigarette. He’s a few inches shorter than Sam, but he seems tall. No, that’s not it. He seems grand. After Sam throws the bags away, he leans up against the wall next to Eddie, just talking. The thing he’s best at. Eddie’s not bad at it, either. He’s got a lot to say – about pop stars, about living in Motown, about Adorno and Horkheimer (“Fuck anybody who doesn’t like jazz,” Eddie says, and Sam laughs. He’ll get along with Charlie, surely, if they ever meet. God, Sam wants them to meet.). After a few minutes, the conversation turns to dance.

“I always wanted to be a dancer,” Sam says.

“Why didn’t you?”

Sam sighs, the smoke from Eddie’s cigarette surprising him a little bit. He doesn’t care. Not every night looks like this one.

“I don’t know,” he says. “I said I was afraid people would make fun of me, but I think I was just afraid they’d figure out I wasn’t straight, which … I guess I’m just sorry it held me back.”

Eddie nods.

“It’s why I never told anybody my favorite movie is Singin’ in the Rain,” he says. “Guess the only person I was hurting was me.”

“Wanna know a secret?”

“Sure.”

“That’s the reason I wanted to be a dancer.”

Eddie smiles like he’s been waiting to hear something like that. He reaches his hand out to hold Sam’s but retracts at the last second. Sam takes his hand, anyway. Doesn’t want him to be afraid. Not right here. Not right now. He lets old songs run through his head.

You are my lucky star … I saw you from afar …

“You know, I wasn’t gonna come to this thing tonight,” Eddie says. “My dad’s been pissed at Linda for as long as I can remember. I was gonna stay home outta … I dunno, solidarity, I guess. But when he said he was going, I thought I better come along, too. You know. Outta solidarity again.”

“Yeah,” Sam says. “My twin sister, she’s Daniel’s wife. That’s why I’m here.”

“Well, then, thank God for Daniel and his wife.”

Sam looks at Eddie for a long time, feeling his face turn red like he’s still a kid trying to keep his crushes under lock and key. But this isn’t like being thirteen and falling in love with Will, who couldn’t love him the same way. This is different. This is promise. This is hope. This is a real person, a real man, and he is holding Sam’s hand. They look around the backyard for family members, for neighbors, for squirrels and sparrows. They’re alone. Better that way. More ... once again, the only word Sam has is grand.

When they finally kiss, the night’s never felt younger.

#drabble #writeblr #ch: sam doyle #ch: eddie costa #ship: brown-eyed handsome man #year: 1991