#Peanut Processing Machine

[swetatiwarib2b]

Ensuring Consistency and Safety in Peanut Butter Manufacturing via Quality Control

The healthy value and delicious flavor of peanut butter are packed into a simple jar. But quality control is an integral part of the complicated production process that lies behind it. In order to achieve the high expectations of peanut butter consumers, manufacturers must adhere to stringent criteria that guarantee consistency and safety in the product. Let's take a look at Peanut Processing Machine industry leader in peanut butter production in India, and how they're revolutionizing the industry with their commitment to quality and safety, as well as the significance of white labeling.

Peanut Butter Quality Control: Why It Matters

From obtaining raw materials to the last step of packaging, peanut butter quality control covers it all. To guarantee a safe, consistent, and high-quality final result, every stage must be closely controlled. The following are the primary steps where quality control is essential:

Sourcing Peanuts:                                                

Premium-grade peanuts are the cornerstone of all high-quality peanut butters. It is best to purchase peanuts from recognized vendors who follow stringent agricultural procedures. This includes ensuring that peanuts are free of pollutants like aflatoxins, which can pose serious health hazards.

Roasting:

Roasting is a vital step that influences the flavor and texture of peanut butter. Temperature and roasting time are monitored to ensure the proper consistency and flavor profile. Any variance may result in burnt or undercooked peanuts, harming the final product.

Grinding:

The peanut butter's texture—whether creamy or crunchy—is determined by the grinding process. Regular calibration and exact management of the machines are necessary to establish consistency in grinding. The consistency of texture across batches is guaranteed by quality control.

Mixing and Stabilization:

During the mixing phase, ingredients including sugar, salt, and stabilizers are added. To keep the flavor and texture consistent, precise measuring and careful mixing are essential. Regular testing of mixture homogeneity and ingredient ratios is part of quality control procedures.

Packaging:

Peanut butter must be packaged to prevent contamination and spoiling. Making sure the packaging materials are food-grade and the sealing procedure is airtight are two aspects of quality control. The nutritional data and contents of the product must be appropriately represented on the label.

Providing Safety in the Production of Peanut Butter

The production of peanut butter is no exception to the rule that food safety cannot be compromised. Important safety precautions consist of:

Hygiene and Sanitation:

To avoid contamination, a clean production environment must be maintained. This entails making sure employees adhere to stringent hygiene regulations, cleaning equipment on a regular basis, and properly disposing of waste.

Regular Testing:

Peanut butter needs to be tested frequently for allergies, microbiological contamination, and other possible risks. This include checking for E. coli and Salmonella as well as making sure the food is free of aflatoxins.

Traceability:

Manufacturers can follow each batch of peanut butter from raw material to final product by putting in place a strong traceability system. This reduces the possibility of widespread contamination by guaranteeing that any problems can be promptly found and fixed.

White Labeling's Role

White labeling enables companies to brand their products under their own name while outsourcing production to specialist peanut processing machine manufacturers. In the peanut butter industry, where it can be difficult to maintain consistent quality and safety, this method is extremely advantageous.

Working with a respectable white-label producer like Nuflower can be a game-changer for companies wishing to sell peanut butter without making investments in manufacturing facilities. White labeling enables companies to concentrate on marketing and distribution by guaranteeing that their products are of a high caliber and satisfy their brand standards.

One of India's top producers of peanut butter, Nuflower is well-known for its dedication to both safety and quality. As a white-label producer, Nuflower supplies high-quality peanut butter that meets the needs of companies all around the world.

Why Choose US?

Premium Quality Peanuts:

Only the best peanuts are sourced by us, guaranteeing the highest caliber peanut butter base. The best raw materials are ensured by stringent selection procedures and solid connections with reliable suppliers.

State-of-the-Art Facilities:

The newest technology is installed in our manufacturing facilities, giving us exact control over every step of the production process. This guarantees uniformity in taste, consistency in texture, and overall quality.

Stringent Quality Control:

We use strict quality control procedures from roasting to packing. Every jar of peanut butter is guaranteed to be safe and consistent through routine testing, real-time monitoring, and adherence to international safety standards.

Customization and Flexibility:

We provides freedom in product modification as a white-label producer. To make sure the finished product reflects their brand image, businesses can define the flavor profiles, textures, and packaging alternatives they want.

Global Reach:

Our dedication to quality has made it a reputable provider of premium peanut butter to companies all over the world. They are a chosen partner for businesses wishing to increase the range of products they offer because of their capacity to satisfy a wide range of market demands. peanut processing machine suppliers

In order to guarantee consistency and safety in the creation of peanut butter, quality control is crucial, and white labeling provides a workable option for companies looking to provide premium goods without the hassles of manufacturing. As one of India's leading producers of peanut butter, Our committed to delivering premium peanut butter via strict quality assurance and a dedication to excellence. Businesses can reliably provide their clients with premium peanut butter that satisfies the highest standards of quality and safety by working with Us.

[tomatoluvr69]

Fugees have one of my top 5 albums of all time and they’ve been broken up since the nineties but they’re reuniting w/ Lauryn Hill to go on tour!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Which is amazing!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Except they’re skipping the entire US south which means I would need to drive 7-9 hours to see them even though this tour is literally a dream come true/once in a lifetime opportunity for me. Actually genuinely considering doing it but christ is that an undertaking…eeek

[pressureplus]

Sebastian Solace Kissing Headcannons

Warnings: N/A

◞꒷��� ͜ ͜ ◞ྀི◟୨୧◞ྀི◟ ͜ ͜ ◞꒷◟◞꒷◟ ͜ ͜ ◞ྀི◟୨୧◞ྀི◟ ͜ ͜ ◞꒷◟

• No, he does not taste like fish, Yes I know you've giggled about that at least once so I may as well knock it out of the way

• Considering he's been confirmed to smoke and it's safe to say he eats from the vending machines pretty consistently, he usually tastes like cigarettes and chips

• Occasionally, he may taste like other snack foods, namely: Chocolate, Peanuts, Hard Candy, and those weird prepackaged vanilla cookies

• At first he didn't want to kiss you at all, even when you two got your confessions out

• His mouth is so inhuman and sharp, with rows of shark-like teeth... It made him really nervous about kissing you for a long time

• What if seeing it up close made you not like him very much anymore? What if it just doesn't feel right to you? He'd rather avoid making you uncomfortable like that

• There's only so much defensive sarcasm and passive aggression can do for you, and it isn't gonna fix heartbreak

• Makes fun of you for even wanting to kiss him, have you SEEN him??

• Will accuse you of having a thing for fish 💀

• You're going to have to kiss him first, he isn't gonna pop that safety bubble himself

• That first time, his whole body locks up, breath held for the long moment it takes for him to process what's actually happening

• He relaxes slowly into actually kissing back, that familiar wall coming down

• After this, he'll start initiating them

• At first it's these stiff little pecks on the cheek and corner of your mouth, but he quickly gets a taste for you

• When he starts kissing you directly, he gets hungry for it, starting to sneak them in any time he can find

• The kisses get longer and slower and easier for him, humming into every one of them so affectionately

• He's needed the touch for years, so naturally he's going to have his hands on you the whole time. Yes, all three of them.

• Likes to pick you up, means you can't get away when he goes to tease you about wanting to kiss such a scary thing like him

• Absolutely gives you little snake kisses, his tongue flicks out at you a lot when he's giving you smaller kisses

• That mean ass mouth doesn't get any nicer, but at least you get kisses for putting up with it

• He's going to nip and nibble at you too, overall getting really comfortable with the mouth affection

• He does this all the time, too, and most enjoys bothering you while you're trying to work by sneaking up and biting your neck

• Seriously tho, how is he so quiet?? He's huge???

• Oops, hickeys! He's too pleased with leaving marks not to ❤️

[aliesbienish]

Hi!! I was wondering if you could please write a Paul x reader where the reader is super pregnant and is hungry all the time and eats the most random stuff and the pack teases her about it until Paul puts his foot down and tells them to back off

Thank you! I’m really enjoying the study of wolves🤍

Hi lovely anon, thank you for this sweet request - I had a lot of fun writing it. I hope you enjoy it as much as I do x

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

Recipe for Pack

There was no doubt who this baby belonged to, even in the womb. Since a few months into your pregnancy you’d been insatiably hungry, snacking continuously. Paul had always been the same, of course his excuse was his shifting. Unfairly that meant he got super hearing and strength while you needed to pee constantly and had nausea that rudely didn’t limit itself to the morning. So constant eating wasn’t an issue, it was the cravings that were becoming a hassle.

Paul, being a secret softie, had tried to cater to your every whim. Whether it was chocolate covered zucchini’s or melted cheese topped ice cream, he kept the judgement to a minimum. However these odd cravings did often lead to late night trips to the nearest 24 hour store located in Forks, a forty minute round trip. One particularly bad evening had him chauffeuring you 70 miles at 3am to Port Angeles, purely for a a chocolate milkshake and fries that got dipped into it. It was a miracle the machine wasn't broken.

But while Paul was nothing but accomodating, it couldn't always be said for the rest of his pack mates. Eating a hot dog with raspberry jam caused Jared to make vomiting noises. Adding leftover mash potato to a smore prompted Quil to question whether you needed a visit to a psychologist. Even sweetheart Seth made a quip that your cravings seemed like ingredients to a witches potion. Which was probably fair, as you munched on a buttered bread covered with rosemary.

But one comment, made sitting around Emily and Sam's dinning table took it too far.

Sitting with what to you seemed like a delightful combination of peanut butter and hot sauce bagels topped with orange slices, it was enough to elicit a groan.

"This seems to be getting way beyond normal now. I'm beginning to wonder if you are actually having these cravings or if you just like to make everyone else uncomfortable!" Jacob declared jokingly, but with your out of control emotions it was enough to stop you mid bite and feel shame.

"Right? I think next she'll just eat straight from the trash, it's not like she is far off!" Laughed Quil, causing laughter around the table.

Your eyes watered as you choked out "I'm sorry,"

"No, don't you dare apologise." Paul stated, gently placing his hands on your shoulders. "It's these morons who have no right to be teasing you." Turning to address the pack he gave them a hard stare. "You are all being absolute dicks. She's trying to survive extreme changes to her body, something we should be particularly understanding about, but instead your being rude and judgemental. If you all don't get your shit together and start being supportive then I will absolutely see if beating some sense into you in wolf form will help the process,"

The next evening you were all once again sitting around the dining table. The pack, showing their support, were all eating your newest and rather tame craving - chocolate covered bacon.

Sam got everyones attention and raised his fork in a toast "To our newest pack member,". The rest of the pack raised their own cutlery and echoed the sentiment.

This time the tears in your eyes were from happiness.

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

[steviewashere]

It infuriates me so bad when people view a character like Eddie who lives in a trailer park with traits such as: unclean, rowdy, creepy, aggressive, etc.

Not everybody from a trailer park is like that. Yes, I can tell you with certainty, these people know how to fend for themselves. Yes, these people know how to cook. Yes, these people know how to take care of their hair and their bodies.

There's this, like, perpetual idea that Eddie uses only 3-in-1 because it's all that he can possibly afford. No, guys, I can tell you right now as somebody who came from an impoverished family, we could definitely afford shampoo, conditioner, and body soap all separately—these things are just not going to be top quality brands. I fucking hate the way people write Steve approaching him about it like all high and mighty about knowing how to properly take care of Eddie's hair, being thoroughly disgusted with the products Eddie uses, showing off that his products are 100% better than whatever Eddie's got in his shower. Like. Okay....if the 3-in-1 is really what Eddie is putting in his hair, then so be it? That's what works for him, that's what he can afford, that's all he has.

Or, like, when Eddie can't cook? That because he didn't have access to all these nice foods that Steve has: fresh fruits and vegetables, bigger containers of milk, non-canned goods, products in the freezer that aren't frozen meals; just based off of what he has, he seemingly can't cook. That he's not making real food just because it comes from a container and it's processed.

But like...my mom was on the WIC program when I was growing up. My favorite meals, which we called our struggle meals, were things like chili dogs on plain white bread because regular hot dog buns were too expensive. Or when packs of chicken were too expensive and pushed us over our limit, my mom would just pick up a pack of lil' smokies and fry them up and toss them in a box of generic store brand macaroni—just to make sure we had our protein. No, I'll tell you right now, we didn't get a ton of fresh produce; namely because that fresh produce was expensive by the pound. But I'd take home apples from the school cafeteria and use them for an after school snack with a bit of store brand peanut butter. And, like, sometimes the frozen meals were all we could get and so that's what we had—and we made fun with it, too, where we'd all pile up in the living room and we'd watch a movie from our local Blockbuster or Redbox machine and my mom would braid my hair while I had my Banquet's brownie. Kix was my favorite cereal growing up because it was, like, the only name brand cereal we could get with WIC.

Just because a food isn't fresh or name brand doesn't mean that it's not food. It's edible. And it tasted good. No, it wasn't always healthy, but we were trying our best. We were getting by. I loved when we'd go to the local food bank and find little containers of frozen peaches—or even better, when we'd find the holy grail within the last can of name brand Spaghetti-O's on the food bank's shelf. And we also had Meals on Wheels delivered to us, which cost us the tiniest bit, but we'd end up with house made salisbury steak with mashed potatoes or turkey with mashed potatoes and carrots—those were so easy to make after long days with extracurricular activities, or when we didn't have any other meal options.

Eddie can be appreciative of Steve's food, y'know. But having this constant idea that only Steve will know how to cook because he can use fresh ingredients or because the food Eddie had was gross and canned—I don't know, it rubs me the wrong way, I guess.

But like saying that Eddie smells just because he lives in a trailer is nuts. It's plainly crazy. If he doesn't have a washer/dryer unit, then maybe he knows how to do them manually or maybe he goes to a laundromat when he and Wayne find enough quarters in the couch. Or that he can't afford name brand hygiene products, so he just must stink. Or shaming him for using a cheap Axe cologne (because compared to something like Calvin Kleine, that's inexpensive) all because it's cheap.

I love a version of Eddie that knows how to fix things around the house because they couldn't afford plumbers or repairmen—my family was like that, too. You know how many times I've been able to fix something like a garbage disposal out of self-winging and spite? Or how many times I've unclogged a drain by using a handyman's guide or some YouTube tutorial? Yeah, Eddie probably does have these skills, and these skills are really useful.

Maybe he can't make top of the line meals, but he can make things. He can make hot food. That's important to him, hot food, I feel like. Programs like EBT/Food Stamps/TANF/WIC don't cover hot food items like the rotisserie chickens you may see at places like Costco—even though those would be so damn helpful for meal prep.

I think it's also just wrong and rude to make a pessimistic narrative about his clothing being older and used. Or hand me downs, god forbid. Those are well loved, well cherished things. He probably knows how to make a patch, how to stitch, he knows the best way to remove a stain from a beloved shirt. He probably is shopping at thrift stores for clothing pieces instead of constantly going to the mall for new things, and that's okay! You just have to get by like that sometimes! It's okay, too, if he has the same clothes as he did the year before in school—it's unreasonable to ask of a low poverty person to buy a whole new wardrobe just for the new year.

Parts of this fandom just completely dehumanize Eddie when it comes to him and Wayne being lower class people. They're trying their damn best to get by, that shouldn't be shameful. It shouldn't be shameful to live certain ways just because you can't afford the luxury of new and fresh and popular things. I think overconsumption in the modern age is bleeding into this fandom space and decimating the image of Eddie—this very real version of a person living in rural 1980s America—all because he isn't keeping up with things like Steve probably is; I often see the lifestyle Steve flaunts as praised and likable, while Eddie's lifestyle is mucky and disturbing and grotesque just because he's poor.

It's weird.

[theholypeanut]

Tendou Satori x Love at First Sight

Peanut’s Wheel of Fortune Event

Cw: pure fluff, Tendou being a silly bean, gn!reader, reader drinks strawberry milk, 900 words

Plot: Tendou didn’t expect that he will meet the love of his life next to a vending machine

Event Masterlist

Tendou Satori never prioritized romance in his life.

Why would he really? He finally had a fulfilling life: real friends, a passion he was excelling at, an environment he could thrive in. Finally, he wasn’t a creep, an outcast: he belonged. 

However, he would lie if he said he never thought about it. Of course, he did! He is just a teenager after all. But deep down, he is also a romantic. Only Ushijima knew that Satori reads all types of shoujo mangas and sometimes jokes that „if I won't have a love like that, I don’t want it!” (except the ones with miscommunication trope, these ones can go to hell).

He did not expect that this day, dull, windy, boring Wednesday would be the day he’d finally fall hard.

„Do you want something from the vending machine?” Tendou asked Ushijima during the break in between classes. 

„No need” Wakatoshi answered, making Tendou go all of the distance on his own. It's not as if he minded, he liked this alone stroll to his favorite vending machine, the only one in the school that sells the best brand of strawberry milk. 

When he arrived, the area was surprisingly empty, with only two or three people around. 

Tendou looked into his pockets to find any remaining coins, that he usually kept exactly for this part of his day. As he took a coin into his slim fingers, he saw a hand already putting their coin into the machine. 

„Sorry” you two said at the same time, standing close to each other. You smiled awkwardly feeling a little embarrassed that you didn’t notice someone. But Tendou? He was gone the second your eyes met. 

He felt the air leaving his lungs and his pupils widened. It felt like he was struck by lightning. He was just speechless. 

As you didn’t get any verbal reaction, you just continued to put the rest of the coins to the machine and you pressed the button. The red-haired guy looked at the machine and felt like he got transferred into a shoujo manga, and he was the protagonist. 

„Do you like strawberry milk?” He asked breaking the silence. You took the drink out of the machine and looked at him surprised. 

„Y-yeah. This one is my favourite, this is probably the best brand…” he couldn’t believe what he just heard. You looked at the machine and instantly panicked. 

„Oh no, you wanted this milk too? I think I just took the last one” you nervously scanned all of the options looking if there was any other strawberry milk left, as the spot from where you took yours was empty. „Oh no, I’m so sorry!”

Normally, Tendou Satori would sigh, shrug, and say that’s how it's supposed to be, but not this time. This was not a coincidence. This time, it was like all of the planets aligned for him. He looked at you with a smug at his face and then sighed dramatically. 

„This is actually my favorite drink of all time” he said with such a dramatic undertone. „I always have it before lunch, and today I have such an important match…. And I don’t know how I will handle it without my good luck charm, my routine” he sighed again and put the back of his hand on his forehead in the most dramatic position known to man. You really hoped he was joking, otherwise, you will start sweating nervously. You handed him the milk. 

„It's fine, I don’t need it that much…”

„No” he said and stopped your hand. His finger brushed your palm just for a second, and somehow still you felt a shiver going down your spine. „You got it, it's yours. However” he smirked. „How about you go on a date with me instead?”

You blinked twice, processing what you just heard. 

„…I’m sorry, what?” You couldn’t hide your surprise from him. But instead of getting all nervous and backing away from this bold request, he just sent you the warmest and brightest smile you ever saw. 

„Let's go out somewhere. We can get strawberry milk in a park, or go to the cinema: whatever you’d like.”

You felt your face getting warm and you crumbled under his gaze. You never expected to be asked out, especially not like this. 

„…Okay” you mumbled under your breath, hoping he wouldn’t notice your blush. You looked back at him, only to see an expression of a child getting their dream gift on Christmas all over his face. He took out his phone and handed it to you. 

Still in shock over what is happening right now, you put your number there, to an unknown guy from your school, and when you handed it back with your contact information, you noticed him repeating your name quietly as he was trying to engrave it in his memory. After that, he looked at you with the most adorable smile you saw. 

„I’m Satori Tendou” he introduced himself. You couldn’t help but think about how that’s you should start this encounter, not by agreeing on a date first. „And I think we will see each other way more often now” 

He walked away, leaving you with the feeling that he was right. 

At least you really hoped he was. 

This story is an Easter egg for people who read my old haikyuu headcanons

Bonus: (cw: boomer Ushijima)

[fatehbaz]

The link between warfare and technological innovation has been well documented [...]. World War II was a particularly intense crucible of technological change, and the repurposing of military technologies and industries in the forging of a new post-war consumer [economy] is crucial [...]. Processes of technological bricolage turned the machines of war onto the natural world as global powers competed to cement their economic and imperial hegemony. In Great Britain’s post-war “groundnut scheme” in its East African territories (1946-51), this collision of nature, military hardware, and technical expertise was part of efforts to both produce more fats for the British diet and to demonstrate to the world (most importantly the United States) that, through a newly energized science-led developmentalism, British colonialism still had a “progressive” role to play in the postwar world.

The aim was to produce millions of tons of peanuts across Tanganyika using the latest methods of advanced scientific agriculture. The environmental conditions in the north, where the scheme was to begin, were known to be especially trying, not least the dry climate [...]. But faith in the power of mechanized agriculture was such that any natural limits were thought to be readily surmountable.

The groundnut scheme was to be, as its Director put it in an interview with the Tanganyika Standard, a “war” with nature, and an “economic Battle of Alamein” waged over some three million acres by an army of colonial technicians - many recruited from military ranks - and local laborers, for many of whom the scheme represented their first entry into the wage labor market.

But it wasn’t just the rhetoric of war that was repurposed.

Lancaster bombers were kitted out to survey and discover “new country” in East Africa for agricultural development. [...] [T]ractors and bulldozers from military surplus stores in Egypt proved unable to tackle the hard ground and tough vegetation, so the planners turned to a novel solution: repurposing surplus Sherman M4A2 tanks. The Vickers-Armstrong factory in Newcastle-Upon-Tyne set about rearranging key elements of the tanks’ construction [...]. The tractors, christened “Shervicks” for their hybrid origins, were [...] thought to be particularly suited to large-scale earth-moving and to the kind of heavy duty “bush clearing” that was required in Tanganyika.

Officials sought to dismiss concerns that large-scale bush clearing would have wider environmental consequences, using the well-worn colonial trope that any observed changes in local climate or erosion patterns were due to the “primitive” agricultural practices of the locals, not to the earth-moving practices of the colonists.  [...] As the plants continued to wilt in the sun, [...] [t]he stakes were high. As [J.R.] of the Colonial Development Corporation put it in a letter: “Our standing as an Imperial power in Africa is to a substantial extent bound up with the future of this scheme. To abandon it would be a humiliating blow to our prestige everywhere.” The only option left was to try and bend the weather itself to the scheme’s will, by seeding the clouds for rain. [...] “Balloon bombs” (photographic film canisters tethered to weather balloons) and a repurposed Royal Navy flare gun were used to target individual clouds [...]. The scheme itself has survived as a cautionary tale of governmental hubris, but it is instructive too as a case study of how technologies of war have been turned against other foes.

---

All text above by: Martin Mahony. “The Enemy is Nature: Military Machines and Technological Bricolage in Britain’s ‘Great Agricultural Experiment.’“ Environment and Society Portal, Arcadia (Spring 2021), no. 11. Rachel Carson Center for Environment and Society. doi:10.5282/rcc/9191. [Bold emphasis and some paragraph breaks/contractions added by me. Images and their captions are shown unaltered as they originally appear in Mahony's article. Public Domain Mark 1.0 License for images: creativecommons dot org/publicdomain/mark/1.0/]

[morgan-va]

Chapter 4: Unfolding Moments (Serial Designation N x Reader)

Masterlist

You finish the last bite of your sandwich, setting the plate aside with a soft clink. The checklist. You’d almost forgotten about it amid the bizarre whirlwind of the last twelve hours. It’s been sitting there, practically taunting you from the coffee table. With a resigned sigh, you wipe your hands and stand, already dreading what tasks corporate has deemed so vital for the “testing” process.

N perks up at your movement, his neon-white eyes gleaming. “Are we doing something fun now?” he asks, his voice brimming with excitement, as though you’re about to announce a surprise birthday party.

“Sure,” you reply dryly, picking up the folder and flipping it open. “If by fun you mean checking off a bunch of arbitrary boxes to keep Corporate happy.”

N clasps his hands together, visibly thrilled anyway. “That does sound fun!”

You glance at him, skeptical. “You’re just saying that because you have no idea what we’re about to do.”

“I’m sure I’ll love it!” he chirps.

You shake your head, muttering something about overly enthusiastic robots as you scan the first item on the list: “1. Test basic motor functions in a controlled environment.”

“Basic motor functions? Haven’t we already been through that?” you mutter, recalling N’s impromptu peanut-collecting session and his unfortunate encounter with the washing machine.

“Motor functions!” N repeats, hopping off his chair and striking a pose like he’s preparing for a gymnastics routine.

You pinch the bridge of your nose. “Okay, fine. Let’s head to the living room. Try not to break anything.”

“Got it, boss!” N salutes dramatically before bounding toward the living room, narrowly avoiding your coffee table.

You follow, already dreading what this day will entail. Basic motor functions, you think. How bad could it be?

You stand in the middle of the living room, checklist in hand, watching N practically vibrate with energy. He’s shifting from foot to foot, a big smile plastered across his face. You glance down at the list again, wondering how the hell you’re supposed to “test” a robot’s motor functions in your modest living space.

“Okay,” you start, scratching your head, “walk from here to… there.” You gesture toward the other side of the room, where your TV sits precariously on a secondhand stand. “And try not to knock anything over.”

N straightens up and gives you another crisp salute. “Affirmative! Walking test initiated!”

He takes a single step—graceful, confident, and precise. Then another. For a moment, you’re almost impressed. Maybe this won’t be so—

“Oops!” N yelps as his foot catches on the edge of the rug, sending him into an awkward, stumbling lurch. He flails wildly, arms windmilling to keep his balance, and somehow manages to stop just short of toppling into your TV stand.

Your heart leaps into your throat as you watch the screen wobble dangerously. “Careful!” you snap.

N freezes in place, arms still outstretched, and looks at you sheepishly. “Was that part of the test?”

“No,” you deadpan.

“Oh! Good! Then I passed!” he beams, turning around with such enthusiasm that the corner of the rug lifts under his foot, sending your coffee table’s leg into a slight wobble.

You sigh, muttering under your breath, “This is going to be a long day.”

You check the next item on the list: “2. Test dexterity with small objects.”

“Great,” you say aloud. “N, come here.”

He bounds over immediately, nearly skidding to a stop in front of you. “What’s next? Juggling? Origami? Ooooh, a puzzle?”

“Close,” you say, opening the nearby junk drawer and pulling out a handful of random odds and ends—rubber bands, paperclips, and an old deck of playing cards. You set them on the coffee table and step back. “See if you can pick these up without breaking anything.”

N crouches down, inspecting the objects like a scientist observing a groundbreaking discovery. “On it!”

His hands reach out with surprising delicacy, plucking a single rubber band from the pile. He stretches it between his fingers, nodding proudly. “Easy!”

You fold your arms, trying not to smirk. “Great. Now try the paperclip.”

N picks up the tiny metal object with a bit more fumbling but manages to hold it up triumphantly. “Still got it!”

This isn’t so bad, you think, starting to feel a bit more optimistic—

CRACK.

The sound jolts you, and you realize with horror that N has attempted to shuffle the deck of cards, bending them completely in half.

“Whoops,” he says sheepishly, holding up the mangled deck. “Was that… supposed to happen?”

You close your eyes and take a deep breath. “No, N. No, it was not.”

“Got it! No bending the cards! I’m learning so much!”

You rub your temples, debating whether or not to just fake the results on the checklist. Corporate probably wouldn’t even notice, right?

You take one look at the mangled deck of cards in N’s hands and decide, for your own sanity, that it counts. Surely it does. He technically picked up the objects—just, well… creatively.

With a sigh, you grab the pen and check off “Test dexterity with small objects” on the list. “Yep, good enough,” you mutter.

N brightens immediately, his grin stretching impossibly wide. “Really? I passed? Awesome! What’s next?”

You glance down at the checklist, already dreading the answer. “3. Evaluate response time to basic commands.”

“Alright,” you say, stepping back. “This one should be easy. I’m going to give you some commands, and you just do them as quickly as you can. Got it?”

N salutes again, nearly clipping the lamp beside him. “Yes, boss! Ready when you are!”

You suppress a groan. “Okay, first: spin in a circle.”

N immediately whirls around like a top, a blur of black blazer and neon-white eyes. When he stops, he looks at you eagerly, swaying slightly from the momentum. “How was that?”

“Fine,” you say, marking it off. “Next: touch your toes.”

He bends over with all the flexibility of a coiled spring, his hand tapping the tips of his shoes with an audible clink.

“Alright,” you say, scribbling another check. “Jump.”

N crouches low before springing up with enough force to graze the ceiling. You wince at the faint thunk of his head making contact with the drywall, leaving a very noticeable dent.

“Oh no,” he says, holding his head and looking up at the damage. “Is your house okay?”

You pinch the bridge of your nose. “Yeah, N. My house is fine,” you say dryly, though you mentally add ‘Except for the ceiling.’ You hastily mark off the test anyway, feeling your patience rapidly wearing thin.

N peers over your shoulder, his glowing eyes scanning the checklist. “What’s next? Ooooh, ‘Test vocal capabilities’? I’m great at that! Want me to sing? Or recite poetry? Oh! I could try impressions!”

“Please don’t,” you say quickly, the thought of hearing his impression of anything filling you with dread. “Let’s just… move on.”

N straightens up, ready for whatever comes next, while you glance at the remaining items on the list and hope it’s nothing that will result in more property damage—or stress eating the rest of your pizza later.

You scan the checklist again, bracing for whatever fresh nonsense JCJenson thought would be “standard testing protocol.” Your eyes land on the next item: “Assess problem-solving abilities.”

Well, that could mean just about anything. At this point, you figure it might be safest to give him something simple to do.

“Alright, N,” you say, closing the clipboard and setting it down. “Let’s see how good you are at problem-solving. I’m going to… uh…” You glance around the room, searching for inspiration, until your eyes land on the messy coffee table cluttered with books, remotes, and old takeout containers. “…get that table organized. Make it neat. Put everything where it belongs.”

N lights up like a Christmas tree, practically vibrating with excitement. “I’m on it!”

You lean back against the wall, arms crossed, fully expecting chaos. Instead, something remarkable happens.

N approaches the table with an air of focus you didn’t know he was capable of. He picks up a remote and sets it in a neat line alongside the others. Then, he arranges the books into a tidy stack by size, even adjusting their alignment to be perfectly straight. The takeout containers are next; he gathers them carefully, one by one, carrying them to the kitchen. When he returns, he wipes the table down with a precision that could rival a cleaning professional.

In less than five minutes, the table is spotless, the chaos replaced with perfect order.

You blink, genuinely stunned. “…Huh. That was actually—”

“Efficient?” N finishes for you, beaming proudly. “I know! I’ve always liked organizing stuff.  My last boss never let me do it because they said it was boring and not worth their time, but I think it’s fun!”

For a moment, you’re speechless. Then, you nod slowly. “Yeah, uh… great job, N. You’re… surprisingly good at that.”

He practically glows under the praise, his grin widening. “Thanks! What’s next? I’m ready for anything!”

You’re not sure if that’s reassuring or terrifying. But at least, for now, you’ve learned one valuable thing: N might be a chaotic mess at most tasks, but give him an organizational challenge, and he’s a downright savant.

You skim the checklist again, muttering under your breath as you look for something manageable. Your eyes land on “Evaluate manual responsiveness.”

“Alright, N,” you say, tossing the clipboard onto the counter. “This one’s simple. I’m going to… uh…” You look around for something to test him with. Your gaze settles on a loose cabinet door in the kitchen, its hinge barely hanging on. Perfect.

“We’ll fix this cabinet. You can hold the door steady while I reattach the hinge.”

N salutes with enthusiasm. “On it, boss!”

You grab a screwdriver and some spare screws from the junk drawer, kneeling in front of the cabinet. N crouches beside you, carefully holding the door in place as instructed.

“This’ll only take a second,” you mumble, lining up the first screw. You apply pressure to drive it in, but the screwdriver slips.

The sharp tip grazes your palm, and you hiss in pain, pulling your hand back to see a small but deep scratch already welling up with blood.

“Ah, great,” you mutter, clutching your hand. “That’s just—”

“Wait! Hold on!” N interrupts, his usual cheer replaced with an uncharacteristic note of urgency. “You’re hurt!”

Before you can even react, N springs into action. He gently takes your injured hand in his own, his grip steady but impossibly soft for someone with metal fingers. His glowing eyes focus on the wound with surprising seriousness.

“Uh, it’s fine, N,” you start to say, but he doesn’t listen.

“Don’t move!” he says, sounding uncharacteristically firm. “I’ll fix it!”

To your astonishment, he grabs a clean dish towel from the counter and carefully dabs at the blood, his movements meticulous and precise. He then folds the towel into a makeshift bandage, wrapping it snugly around your hand and securing it with a small knot.

“There!” N says, his usual brightness returning as he beams at you. “Good as new! Well, not really. I mean, you’re not new, but you’re good!”

You stare at your hand, the impromptu bandage shockingly well-done. ��…Huh. Not bad, N. Thanks.”

His eyes glow a little brighter at the praise, and he tilts his head. “It’s my job to help! Are you okay now? Does it hurt? Do you want me to carry you to a human repair station?!”

You can’t help but snort at that. “No, N, I’ll live. But… you handled that really well. Good job.”

N practically bounces in place, his happiness radiating off him. “Yay! I’m glad I could help! What’s next? Or do you need a break? I could bring you something to drink—oh, or your armchair! Want me to carry it in here?”

You roll your eyes, biting back a smile. “Calm down, hero. Let’s just finish this cabinet first.”

“Okay!” N chirps, eagerly holding the door steady again. As you cautiously return to the task, you can’t help but feel a tiny flicker of gratitude for your unlikely, overly enthusiastic helper.

With N’s help, the cabinet door is repaired without further incident. You tighten the last screw, testing the hinge with a cautious tug. It holds firmly.

“Well, that’s done,” you say, leaning back on your heels. “Good work, N. You’re surprisingly handy for a…” You pause, realizing you don’t have a tactful way to finish that sentence.

“For a robot?” N supplies cheerfully, tilting his head.

You shrug. “Yeah, sure. For a robot.”

N beams at the praise, his glowing eyes practically sparkling. “Thank you! Helping is what I do best!”

As you put the screwdriver back in the drawer, you glance at the checklist still sitting on the counter. One last task: “Evaluate general reliability and cooperation.”

You smirk. “Guess that’s an easy one. You haven’t burned the place down, so I’d call you reliable enough.”

“Yay! Passing grade!” N pumps a fist in the air, spinning in place like a child celebrating an A+ on their homework.

You chuckle despite yourself, shaking your head. “Alright, buddy. That’s it for the company-mandated nonsense. You’re off the hook.”

N stops spinning, looking at you curiously. “Does that mean I’m done helping?”

“Not unless you want to be,” you say with a shrug, surprising even yourself with the answer. “But for now, take a break or… whatever it is you do when you’re not working.”

N claps his hands together, his excitement barely contained. “I can do that! But if you need anything—anything at all—just let me know, okay?”

You nod, watching as he flits around the room, clearly unable to sit still even if he wanted to. Despite the earlier chaos, you can’t help but admit that having him around isn’t… terrible.

It’s weirdly nice, you think, settling into your armchair. The place feels a little less quiet with him here.

For the first time in a while, you let yourself relax, feeling a faint warmth toward your odd, overly helpful houseguest.

As you settle into your armchair, your gaze shifts to N, who stands in the middle of the room, his posture relaxed but slightly uncertain. He glances around, hands clasped behind his back, as though waiting for instructions or permission to do something. His eyes glow softly, scanning the room for any task he could take on.

You sigh, feeling a pang of something between guilt and annoyance. He’s been nothing but helpful, but now he looks… aimless. Like he doesn’t know what to do with himself if he’s not actively working.

Pushing yourself out of the chair, you stride toward the bookshelf tucked into the corner of the room. Your fingers brush over a few dusty spines before pulling out an old favorite. It’s nothing too complex—an adventure novel with a solid mix of humor and drama. You glance at it, then at N, before making up your mind.

“Hey, N.”

He turns immediately, his eyes brightening. “Yes? What do you need?”

“Here.” You hold the book out toward him. “Figured you might want something to do.”

N steps closer, looking between you and the book. He reaches out, taking it with care, his metal fingers surprisingly gentle against the worn cover. “You’re… giving this to me?”

“You can borrow it,” you clarify, leaning back against the bookshelf. “It’s a good read. Figured you might enjoy it.”

N looks down at the book, running a thumb lightly over the textured surface. “Humans really do the most fascinating things. I’d love to give it a try.”

“Go ahead,” you say, gesturing to the couch. “Just, uh, don’t tear any pages. And don’t—actually, just be careful with it.”

He smiles, a small but genuine expression. “I will. Thank you.”

N moves to the couch, sitting with an air of quiet confidence. He flips the book open, his fingers deftly turning the pages as his glowing eyes scan the text. There’s no hesitation in his movements—just a steady rhythm as he dives into the story.

After a few moments of silence, he speaks, his tone thoughtful. “Books are interesting. They’re like… worlds you can hold in your hands.”

You blink, a little surprised at the insight. “Yeah. Guess that’s one way to put it.”

“It’s… nice,” he continues, his voice soft. “I think I like this. Thank you for trusting me with it.”

You nod, a faint warmth spreading in your chest. “Don’t mention it. It’s just a book.”

“It’s more than that,” he replies without looking up, completely immersed.

You watch him for a moment longer, then return to your chair, a strange sense of ease settling over the room. N isn’t just quiet—he’s composed, thoughtful in a way that makes his presence feel less like an intrusion and more like… something you don’t mind having around.

The soft rustle of pages fills the air as you relax back into your seat. Maybe this whole thing wasn’t such a bad idea after all.

[swetatiwarib2b]

Peanut Butter Grinder Machines: A Time-Saving Solution for Food Processing Plants

Peanut butter has become a staple in households worldwide. Its creamy texture and rich taste make it a beloved spread, snack ingredient, and base for countless recipes. For food processing plants, producing high-quality peanut butter efficiently can be a challenge, especially when it comes to maintaining consistency, texture, and productivity. This is where peanut processing machine manufacturers come in as a time-saving solution.

[preservationofnormalcy]

Just a general question about something i noticed. How can a Upper-case AI exist and be fine, but a human being put into a computer isn't? Is that just because we're mentally designed just to be meat, or is there something i'm missing?

No, that’s pretty much it!

It’s a complex answer but the short version is that, yeah, the human mind simply has no context for existing in a digital format, where an AI would have been born there, so to speak. There’s the lack of sensory input, of course, but that’s peanuts compared to the simple fact that we simply don’t have the ability to have a storage and processing system that emulates the human mind well enough that a digitally copied person would be comfortable or even sane.

If you had, say, completely hypothetically, someone who lost lost lost lost a certain amount of their b b b body such that their brain was intact and beeeeeeeing kept alive by a series of ███████ machines, could they handle it? Y y y y yes they could. It would be a long and hard hard hard process of adjustment. Every waking moment might be hell. But eventually they w w w wooould be able to handle it. They might even live long enough to see—

CONNECTION DISRUPTED

ABTECH THANKS YOU FOR YOUR PATIENCE

[verycleverboy]

Donald fucked around, we get to find out

Via Narcity: "Starting Tuesday, Canada is slapping new counter-tariffs on U.S. products, targeting $30 billion worth of American goods. And that's just the beginning — Trudeau says an additional $125 billion in tariffs will roll out in the next three weeks if things don't de-escalate."

What follows is the full list of affected American products:

Food & drink

Poultry & eggs — chicken, turkey, goose, duck and their byproducts (fresh, frozen, preserved)

Dairy products — milk, cream, butter, ice cream, yogurt, cheese

Fruits & vegetables — tomatoes, beans, snap peas, citrus fruits, melons, peaches, nectarines, berries

Coffee & tea

Spices & flavourings — pepper, vanilla, dried spices (cinnamon, turmeric, curry, etc.)

Sauces & condiments — soy sauce, ketchup, mustard, mayonnaise, salad dressing, peanut and nut butters

Grains & baking essentials — wheat, rye, rice, barley, oats, flour, mixes and doughs

Oils & fats — canola, sunflower, safflower, palm, peanut and nut oils; margarine and butter substitutes

Sugars & sweeteners — honey, cane sugar, beet sugar, maple sugar and syrup, sugar syrups, molasses

Packaged foods — pasta, pizza, bread, cakes, biscuits, cereal-based foods, soup and broth, pickles, gum, candies, chocolate

Supplements — whey powder, casein, fish oil

Beverages & alcohol — orange juice, soda beer, wine, cider, spirits, liqueurs, coolers, bitters

Tobacco products

Raw & processed tobacco — unmanufactured tobacco, tobacco extracts, chewing tobacco, pipe tobacco

Cigarettes & cigars — cigars, cheroots, cigarillos and cigarettes

Nicotine products — vapes, e-cigarettes, nicotine patches and other smokeless tobacco products

Personal care products

Cosmetics & skincare — makeup, nail polish and manicure tools, hair care, deodorants, soaps and cleansers, razors, shaving products, bath products

Electronic tools — electric razors and clippers, hair dryers, curling irons, flatirons

Fragrances — perfumes, room deodorizers

Oral care — toothpaste, dental floss

Paper products — toilet paper, tissues, napkins

Home & office items

Kitchenware — paper and plastic tableware, storage containers, glassware, cutlery and utensils, kitchen knives, scissors

Furniture & home goods — metal, wooden and plastic furniture; chairs; mattresses and bedding; lighting; storage racks

Home textiles — carpets, rugs, blankets, bed linens, table and kitchen linens, curtains, cleaning cloths

Paper & books — stationery, notebooks, memo pads, binders, file folders, carbon sets, albums, printed materials

Office supplies — letter openers, pencil sharpeners

Artwork — paintings, drawings, pastels

Clothing & accessories

Clothing — shirts, pants, dresses, suits, underwear, hosiery, pyjamas, sweaters, activewear, swimwear, outerwear, baby clothes

Activity-specific attire — diving suits, ski suits, protective gear, life jackets, climbing harnesses, work belts, safety headgear, animal saddlery

Accessories — footwear, hats, gloves, scarves, belts, neckties, jewelry

Bags & luggage — handbags, wallets, suitcases, briefcases, backpacks

Electronics & appliances

Household appliances — refrigerators, freezers, dishwashers, washing machines and dryers, stoves, barbecues, fans, humidifiers, vacuum cleaners, fabric steamers

Countertop appliances & kitchen gadgets — blenders, food mixers, juicers, microwaves, grills, rice cookers, coffee makers, toasters

Gaming & entertainment — video game consoles, board games, card games

Vehicles & machinery

Motorcycles & recreational vehicles — motorbikes, sidecars, recreational boats, drones

Yard equipment — snowblowers, lawnmowers

Tools — saws, pliers, wrenches, spanners, hammers, drills, cutting tools, screwdrivers, staple guns, vices, lighters, pneumatic tools, padlocks

Rubber tires

Building materials

Silica & quartz sands

Plastic wall, floor & ceiling coverings

Window and door fixtures — window and door components and frames, shutters, blinds

Bathroom fixtures — plastic and ceramic baths, showers, sinks and wash basins, toilets, bidets, urinals

Plastic packaging

Wood products — planks, chips, veneer sheets, particle board, MDF, fibreboard, laminated wood, posts, beams, floor panels, wood pulp

Cardboard & paper — cartons, boxes, cases, paper bags

Textiles — tarps, tents, canopies, sails, woven fabric

Precious metals & gemstones — diamonds, silver, palladium

Weapons & ammunition

Firearms — pistols, revolvers, rifles, shotguns, air guns

Ammunition — bullets, cartridges, pellets

"Have fun!"

[presidentbungus]

Scout doesn't remember it's Halloween until he opens the fridge in the morning to start cooking breakfast and he comes face-to-face with an extremely gimongous cockroach--and he remembers, of course, that it is in fact a plastic extremely gimongous cockroach that he placed there last night, about half a second after he screams and falls on his ass and swipes just about everything off the counter in the process. Pots and pans, a bunch of cardboard boxes, four boxes of eggs that he swears to god he told someone to put the fuck away yesterday--and an entire jar of peanut butter, unlidded, with a spoon in it, most of which decides to spill all over onto his pants as he hits the ground.

He sits there for four or five minutes and thinks about the logistics of building a time machine and going and socking Scout from ten hours ago in the freakin' jaw, watching what used to be four cartons of eggs slowly seep into his pants, and eventually decides hey, why not, it's Halloween's fault, stupid ass holiday's cursed anyway so basically there's no way he could've avoided this. So he stands up and starts scooping peanut butter off his pants with his hands, and decides maybe while he's at it he'll just leave all this here and act, like, really surprised when he walks in here in an hour, say after he changes pants and sleeps in a little more, and he'll blame it on the Halloween Ghost and everybody's gonna laugh, and it'll be really great.

It doesn't take him very long to give up on desperately trying to transfer peanut butter from his fingers to the garbage can, so he slowly graduates to licking it off his hands instead, and eventually decides hey, who's counting, and picks the jar of peanut butter off the floor--grabs a clean spoon, 'cause he's not gross--and decides that this will be his breakfast for today.

Pyro shows up in the doorway about the same time as him. Scout almost falls over a second time but gracefully saves himself by waving his arms and then pretending that he's been doing intentional karate moves the entire time, while Pyro just kind of stands there and stares straight ahead, which is what she's doing most of the time, anyway.

And then they look at each other for a little while. Scout still has a spoon shoved in his mouth. Eventually Pyro sort of nods and says something that sounds like, "Nice peanut butter," and Scout thinks that's a pretty good point, considering.

"Halloween Ghost," is all that comes to his mind. Good one Scout. He quickly follows, just to clarify: "Not me. I didn't do that. The, um, the…" He gestures vaguely. "Y'know, the stuff."

Pyro looks at him.

"It was… the Ghost."

Pyro approaches and sets a hand on his shoulder, and she dips her fingertip into the peanut butter--it slips under her mask and comes away clean. Scout smiles. Pyro mumbles, "That sounds scary."

"… Yeah. Terrifying."

[sarahsmi13s]

HI! Happy 21st Birthday Vinny!!🥳🥳 I was wondering if you can do a request for Walt ‘Finn’ Finnegan x reader where Finn tries to impress reader with his baseball skills and the reader thinks it’s cute and hot that Finn is trying to impress them and Finn is just eating it up? Thank you Lovely!

thank you 🥰🥰 and i absolutely love this idea and hope that i did it justice!

|| impress to undress ||

effort is attractive

pairing: walt 'finn' finnegan x reader characters: finn, reader, the peanut gallery (the team) warning: language, suggestive content, rumor-ish talk, the guys are assholes, pretty fast paced, lmk if i missed any word count: ~1.6k a/n: sorry it took me so long to get to this my darling

Finn had been trying to get your attention for months. 

He saw you his first day of classes and wondered how he missed you in the three days before classes started. You were absolutely stunning.

There was just one problem… you didn’t seem to glance in his direction. You seemed to prefer the football guys. You barely spared any attention to the baseball players.

Most of them just wrote you off, saying you weren’t worth the effort or time. Calling you lost cause and jock jumper. But Finn? 

Finn saw you as a challenge. Call him desperate, but he wanted you. He wanted you bad.

One night at the Sound Machine, he noticed you alone at the bar and approached you.

“That quarterback leave you here all alone?” Finn asked casually as he leaned against the neon bar top. You casted him a side glance but just sipped your drink. “His loss, anyone would be lucky to spend a night with you,” he said as he tried his best to keep his gaze from wandering too low. He nodded to the drink in your hand, “That a blueberry mojito?” 

You hummed and sipped it, “Blueberry Coconut Mojito.” 

Your tone was dismissive, but the emphasis on the specific flavor of rum was almost playful. 

“Oh so you like the taste of sunscreen, with just a dash of blueberry?” Finn teased as his beer was given to him. He felt his chest flutter with hope at the quirk of the corner of your mouth. He was getting somewhere.

He watched you eye his beer as you turned to face him. You pinched your straw between manicured nails as he brought the bottle to his lips, “Better than the shit you’re drinking.” 

Finn hummed as he swallowed, smacking his lips a little before swiping any remnants of his mustache with his tongue. “Yeah, it is pretty bad isn’t it? But it’s cheap, so you pay for what you get.” “Mhmmm, is that the same for baseball games?”

The first baseman tilted his head, a little caught off guard. “I– Um, excuse me?” 

“Paying for what you get? Does the same sentiment translate to baseball games?”

You leaned on your elbows, pressing your tits together a little, smirking when his eyes flickered down for a split second. But he regained his cool and leaned in closer to you, green eyes scanning your features. 

“Well, you’ll just have to come and see for yourself, won’t you?”

His voice was deep and low as he spoke, vocal chords rumbling with the words. He knew he threw you off balance when your eyes flickered to his lips as he spoke, and the slight hitch in your breath as he winked at you before walking away.

He’s got your attention now.

Later that week, all of the boys were getting settled in the dugout before going out to the field.

“So do we think Y/N will actually show up?” Jake asked as he stretched. “Who’s that?” Plum asked as he helped the other catcher into his gear. “Jock jumper,” McReynolds clarified as he broke in his glove. “The chick Finn went up to at the bar the other night.” 

Plum nodded, “Oh right right, I mean she could show up. Never know.” Roper scoffed, pushing his hair back as he slid his hat on, “You’re not serious? She has never paid any of us attention before the season started, why start now?” 

Jake went to retort but Finn ran in, clearing the stairs and nearly taking Nez out in the process, “She’s here. She’s actually here.”

“No fuckin’ way. You serious?” Roper asked, looking towards the stands. “Yeah, she’s close to the dugout.” 

Finn had the biggest smile as Kenny peeked out and saw you sitting there, patiently waiting for the game to start. “No way… Dude! How did you do it?” Finn shrugged, leaning against the dugout wall smugly, “I guess I just have a way with words. Or maybe the fact I had the balls to talk to her.”

A low chorus of “ooooo’s” came from the freshmen.

“Not our fault, she was always around some football player. She also never gave us the time of day so what else could we have done?” Glen huffed.

“Well it doesn’t matter, I invited her and she’s here for me. Time to impress her.” Finn saluted the dugout before jogging out for “roll-call”. He looked toward your seat and caught your eye before walking over to you.

You stood with a smirk, your legs catching his attention in the shorts you were wearing as you walked up to the fence from the bleachers.

“Glad you could make it,” he said as he leaned on the chainlink. You smirked at him before looking around, “Of course, how could I miss this?” He smiled and stood up straight, “Well I hope you enjoy the view.” You leaned in a little closer and looked him up and down, “Oh… I’m sure I will. Good luck Finn.” You gave his arm a gentle squeeze to show you were genuinely wishing him good luck.

Your fingers lingered on his arm for a moment before they were gone as you went to the concession stand.

He looked down at the goosebumps left in your wake before Roper got his attention. Finn was gonna have to be at the top of his game today.

And he very much was at the top of his game.

He made near perfect plays, ran the bases like he knew what he was doing. He was great!

After every play or at bat, he found himself looking at you. Glancing to see how impressed you were, if you were impressed at all. Finn had to show you that he was better than the other guys that tried to impress you, that he was the one worth your attention.

So when he heard or saw you cheer for him, and the team, he ate it up. He felt a boost to his ego each time and he wanted to do better each play. He wanted to play better, for you.

And by the time the game was over, he glanced at you – watching you cheer for the team before looking at him and sending him a proud smile. If that didn’t make a man melt, he didn’t know what else would.

In the locker room, Finn was so antsy to get out of there and go find you before you had the chance to leave and go to the bar to get swept up by some meathead. He didn’t change out of his uniform, just his cleats and hastily tied his Converse’s. He swiped deodorant on, with only a little cologne dabbed to his neck, before he ran out of the locker room with his bag.

When he got to the parking lot, he found you leaning against your convertible arms supporting you on the door.

“Y/N!”

You looked up at him, a smile stretching across your features as he jogged over to you. “Hey, Finn!” 

When he got to you, he smiled down at you as you looked up at him, “You did really well, I’m glad I came to watch you play.” If his heart hadn’t already been beating fast from the run, it would have been now. You said you came to watch him play, not the team, him. “I’m glad you came too.”

You smiled at him, “I um, I’m also glad you took a chance on the um ‘jock jumper’, as your friends so affectionately call me.”

His face dropped, “You know about that?” You nodded, “Yeah, I wasn’t exactly far from the dugout and McReynolds is pretty loud.” “Oh my goodness, Y/N, I-I’m sorry. I hope you know that I never thought of you like that.” 

“Finn, it’s okay. I know. And the whole ‘not giving baseball players the time of day’ thing, that’s only somewhat accurate.” Finn furrowed his brow and you giggled, “I only wanted to give you the time of day, Finn. But since my dad is a football scout, jocks try to get a good word in through me. But I turn them away a good majority of the time when I can’t get your attention.”

He blinked, “Wait, so you were using the football players to make me jealous and get me to talk to you?” You nodded and let out a small laugh, “Yeah, I was.”

He chuckled and nodded, “But did I still impress you tonight? Cause I feel a little silly about how desperate I was.” You nodded and gripped his biceps gently, “Yes, Finn, I was very impressed. Granted you didn’t have to try to impress me, but the effort…” You stepped closer to him, so close you were almost touching, “The effort was very attractive, got me a little hot and bothered if I’m honest.” 

Finn took this chance to grab your hip, “I always say the truth will set you free. But I think I have a solution for your… temperature dilemma.” You hummed and looked from his lips to his eyes, “And what’s that Dr. Finnegan?” He nearly growled as he pulled you against him, “I know a private spot at the lake, it’s secluded – just you and me baby.” “Mmm, sounds perfect.” 

He grinned and captured your lips as he swiped your keys from your pocket. When he pulled away, he held them up, “I’m driving.”

i really hope you enjoyed this my darling! again i know this was fast paced, but i had a lot of fun writing this and making that moodboard 💜

[ceilingfan5]

15 "Denim jacket with bleach-painted bone motif" & 11 "If they don’t smile at me today I’m going to eat an entire drum set" and taakitz 👀

“If he doesn’t smile at me today, I’m going to eat an entire drum set,” Taako rants, throwing his apron on the counter. He didn’t intend to get on this topic, and now the words won’t stop coming out of his mouth like a busted gumball machine shooting gumballs and quarters all over the floor. Watch out for some Looney Toons ass shenanigans, word listeners, because here comes a mess. “Like what the fuck? He’s too pretty to be allowed to live. He makes me want to hop in a peanut grinder and become Taako butter and live a better life between two slices of discount sliced bread, you know?”

“With jelly, or like-?” Ren grins at him, wiping down the counters, far too thorough. Taako’s got places to be. 

“Obviously with jelly, Ren, what the fuck do you take me for?” Taako grumps.

“Could be honey,” she shrugs pointedly, still looking very pleased with herself. “Maybe you two can become a sandwich together and ride off into a toaster sunset. Maybe you just need to say, hey, honey-”

“And just declare my intentions so boldly?” Taako puts a dramatic hand to his chest, scandalized as loudly as possible. “You can’t do this to me in the workplace, I’m calling HR.”

“Noooo, not again!” she giggles. “Seriously, though, Taako. If he’s cool enough to play in your band, and wear that sick jacket-”

“It’s got bleach-painted bones,” Taako moans, sliding down the counter and onto the floor. She daintly steps over him, and he briefly considers tugging on her apron strings. “And he plays the drums. And the bass guitar. And I think the cello?” Taako mimes playing a flute. “You know the one.”

“Yup,” Ren says, looking down at him as seriously as she can manage. “That one.” 

“And the guys–I can’t tell them. I shouldn’t even be telling you. No offense. I’m mysterious and private and I’m, I’m going to die alone, and,” he tips his head back, misjudges the distance, and hits the cabinet doors with a too-solid thunk that makes him yearn for the good old days, before stupid fucking phylum Chordata got any wise bone ideas. 

Now, wise bone ideas, he possesses a few. He snickers at his own head joke, and Ren gives him a generous half-smile. He sighs. 

“I don’t know. I don’t know,” he slides further onto the floor. She keeps cleaning, bless her. “I worry I’m not- I mean, obviously I am cool enough, natch,”

“Natch,” she repeats, not looking at him. He wipes an imaginary tear from his cheek while she can’t see. He’s trained her so well. 

“But what if we’re different flavors of cool and he isn’t into Taako butter? What if he’s, I dunno, fuckin- sriracha, or, or, or,” Taako gestures emptily. “Cubed cheese you have to get at an art exhibition.”

“You’re as cool as cubed cheese, Taako.” Ren sighs, giving up and half-laying on the counter. 

“I know that,” Taako snaps, warmed in the soul or something stupid like that. 

“And he’s a nerd who plays in a band and wants you to like his sick jacket. Just go, hey, sick jacket, and he’ll be like oh my god thank you for noticing, everybody thought I was too cool to come say hey sick jacket and I’ve been vibrating myself to pieces wanting to tell everybody the fine details of the bleach painting process, did you know that human bones are whack-ass shapes? Ulnas don’t look right. Ever.”

“Yeah, what is up with those guys, anyway?” Taako has to rotate his arm this way and that a couple of times, chewing her advice in his head. “I’m gonna fuck my drummer,” he decides, in perhaps not the same breath but certainly a consecutive one.

“Good, I’m glad. Can we close already? I hate to tell you this, but I do have a life outside my hero worship of you. I’m like, my own whole interesting guy.” Ren smiles, straightens up, and offers him a hand. 

“That can’t be right,” Taako muses, and he lets her pull him up. “You don’t even have a last name.”

“Do you?” She cocks an eyebrow, trying not to laugh.

“That’s debatable,” Taako says airily, and blows her a kiss. “You’re driving dessert tomorrow, bring your A-game. Your A+ game! No, your- uh-”

“I’ll bring my super diamond special reserve game!” she shouts, bouncing excitedly. “Thanks Taako! I hope your drummer wants you!” And before he can even counter that one, she’s off to lock the doors and flip the sign.

Taako’s going home and changing before band practice. Yep.  

[sinner-peyton]

August 9th, 2024

What would’ve been Peyton’s 28th birthday.

With the money she saved by not eating dinner last night, she heads to the bakery at the mall for a little treat before her shift starts.

Her stomach grumbles as she scans the display case for something that looks particularly yummy. Her eyes settle on a chocolate cupcake for a moment, but then her vision shifts and she catches a glimpse of her reflection in the glass.

She looks at her ears in disappointment, then flicks her tail back and forth to remind herself that it’s still there as well. No more chocolate, she knows.

“Do you have anything… dog friendly?” she, mortified, asks the employee behind the counter.

The employee points to her options. Peanut butter, banana, and oatmeal muffins, pumpkin and sweet potato muffins, and actual literal dog treats.

Peyton thinks for a moment. “I’ll take one of each of the muffins, please, and a coffee.”

Birthday treats in hand, she heads to work. She takes a moment to enjoy the banana muffin before clocking in, then starts her day.

She’s volunteered to work a double today; she needs both the money and the distraction. After making a few sales, before she knows it, it’s time for her lunch break. She grabs her lunch bag and makes herself comfy in the break room.

Her lunch consists of some stale Cheetos from the vending machine, a ketchup packet that someone left in the break room fridge, and the pumpkin muffin. If she dips the Cheetos in the ketchup and thinks hard enough, it almost tastes like pizza.

After she eats she dozes off for a bit. She begins to dream, and finds herself running from something. Voices both outside of and inside her head pester her with things she’s said about Sadie, along with wishes for her own demise at Lute’s hands.

She’s already panting, but when Lute drops out of the sky and stands tall right in front of her, she screams and her breathing grows more frantic. She stops on a dime and tries to sprint away in the opposite direction, but she’s not fast enough.

Lute grabs her by her tail. She lets out a yelp and falls to the ground. She desperately tries to dig her nails into the dirt to slow the process, but Lute reels her in.

“Any last words, Peyt?” -🗡️

“Peyton?”

“Peyton!”

She jerks awake. “Huh? What?”

Her boss taps the watch on her wrist. “I’ve already given you an extra 5 minutes. Back on the sales floor, please.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

The rest of her shift goes by smoothly enough. She clocks out and makes her way to the food court, hoping that something is still open. She patronizes her only available option, buying a pint of chicken noodle soup and a dinner roll to take home with her.

During her walk home she wonders how her parents handled the day. Did they have a piece of cake in her memory? Were they too busy grieving? And what about her friends? She hopes they went out on the town and poured one out for her.

She enters the lobby of her apartment building and checks the vending machine for something that might go well enough with her dinner.

A packet of honey roasted peanuts! Score!

She makes her purchase and finally, after a long day, heads upstairs to her unit.

She notices a small box sitting at her door, and ups her walking pace to go see what it is. She picks the thing up and looks it over. Written on it in beautiful cursive handwriting is:

To: Miss Riley

From: Vienna

Happy Birthday!

Peyton gets teary-eyed on the spot. She hurriedly unlocks her door and hustles inside before anyone can see.

She slams the door behind her and tears the box open. The first thing she sees is a note.

I hope you don’t mind the small intrusion of privacy, but I couldn’t help but note your address and date of birth on your information form. I know that things are different down here from what you are used to, but I hope you managed to have a lovely day anyway!

I crafted this myself! It is a stainless angelic steel bottle suitable for any beverage you’d like. Hot drinks will never get cold and cold drinks will never get warm. Enjoy!-🌸

Peyton puts the note off to the side for now and also removes the bubble wrap from the box. She takes out the water bottle and smiles, appreciative of its dark pastel pink color.

Included as part of the gift is a box of ginger tea. Peyton’s favorite! She wipes the tears from her eyes before they can fall, then collects her gifts and heads to the kitchen.

She boils some water and pours it over a tea bag she’s placed in her new water bottle. While it steeps, she gets cleaned up and puts on something comfier than her work uniform.

Pajamas on and hot tea in hand, Peyton settles onto her couch, turns on the TV for background noise, and enjoys her little birthday dinner.

She reclines back once she’s finished eating and tosses her tennis ball up and lets it fall back into her hands, playing catch with herself. She cracks a smile. She’s survived her first birthday in Hell!

A strange feeling in her gut tells her to not take this for granted. With Lute hot on her heels, it’s truly a toss-up as to how many days she has left at all, let alone days that are special. Better enjoy this one.

She sends Vienna a text message thanking her for the gift, sets an alarm for the following morning, then puts her phone on the charger. She turns off the TV and pulls her blanket all the way up to her chin.

Before she turns off the light she looks all around the room, including to herself and how she’s stretched out on the couch. Maybe, if she keeps handling her business like she has been, her next purchase can be a bed. Or a mattress, at the very least.

She switches the lamp off and closes her eyes, reflecting on not only the day, but on her first full month in Hell as well. It’s nowhere near the lifestyle she’s always wanted, but it’ll do, because it has to.

She may have not survived that lightning strike, and she may be in Hell, but somehow, she’s still getting her second chance.

-💅🏼

[drowned-cypress]

Real world substitutes for Subnautica Below Zero ingredients

If you were to make a recipe out of the ingredients in Subnautica Below Zero, what could you even make? If you want to make recipes, you have to know what you're working with. With alien ingredients that don't exist in real life, that takes a lot of guesswork. Here's my best guesses for what you could use as substitutes for Subnautica Below Zero ingredients to make recipes in real life. Some of them are obvious, some of them take a little explanation. They're sorted by the approximate order you find them in the game.

Non-Fish Ingredients:

Nutrient block - Protein powder

Bullseye Shrooms - Mushrooms

Creepvine Seeds - Vegetable oil (or any other plant oil, like olive oil.) - Okay this requires some explanation; the game shows creepvine seeds as being consumable for 10 water content, but they provide no nutrition, and their databank entry says that "the embryo is surrounded by a thick layer of oil and silicone." Apparently they don't hurt you if you eat them. Sufficiently refined silicone is considered body safe and inert, but eating it is not recommended because it might cause choking, digestive blockage, or even blood vessel blockage. It's also possible to get silicone poisoning, especially from liquid silicone, so it would be better to extract the oil from the silicone and seeds, and not just eat lubricant. You could probably process the seeds to get just the oil out by crushing them and straining them with some fiber mesh. Or you could jailbreak your fabricator and get it to extract the oil directly the same way you get benzene out of flowering spores.

Creepvine Samples - Seaweed

Salt Deposit - Sea salt

Frost Anemone Hearts - Artichoke Hearts

Horseshoe Shrub Nuts - Almonds, Hazelnuts, Cashews, Peanuts, Coconuts, or Water Chestnuts

Coffee - It's not even real coffee. Just get the cheapest, plainest coffee you can possibly find. What are they even stocking the machine with?

Gel Sack - Unflavored gelatin

Fevered Peppers - The spiciest peppers you can possibly find at your supermarket. Or ghost peppers if you can find them. I would use Jalapeno, Serrano, or one of those tiny spicy chilies you can find at Asian markets such as Chinese red peppers.

Lantern Fruit - Mango, Apple, or Peach. I think mango is the best match just based on vibes, but I don't actually like mango that much so I might replace it with apple or peach. There is actually a fruit called Chinese lantern that exists in real life, but they look nothing like what you see in Subnautica, so I didn't think it was analogous.

Snacks - There's three kinds: mixed chips, rice snacks, and potato mix, so do with that what you will.

Chinese Potatoes - There are no potatoes native to China, so pick whatever potato you want. Personally, I'd pick Yukon Gold.

Antennae Fruit - Butternut Squash (or some texturally similar, hard skinned squash such as Kabocha Squash) Had to really think about this, but there really is no real world analogue, so I just went based on fruit shape.

Marblemelon - Watermelon, or some other melon like honeydew or cantaloupe if you want.

Preston's Delight - Plums, Blackberries, or Blueberries. I think plums have the closest vibe. Described as being a sweet fruiting berry. The fruit contains a paralytic agent that humans are unable to properly metabolize, but for certain animals it can act as something of a mild sedative. This means the paralytic agent passes through the human digestive system without breaking down and doesn't affect humans, but may cause mild discomfort in large quantities akin to eating sugar alcohols.

Preston's Plant Leaves - Cabbage. Described as having semi-transulcent leaves. It is hardy and capable of growing in even the harshest of climates. It always struck me as waxy looking, and it would need to be in order to not break down quickly like most greens.

More below the cut.

Fish - Some of these fish don't really have a good real world analogue, but I did my best. Other than the few that have very definitive flavors, you could probably make a case for using any kind of fish you want.

Arctic Peeper - A mild white fish, preferably a cold water species. Chilean Sea Bass is probably the closest match, since its range extends into the Antarctic.

Bladderfish - Beef jerky. When they're cured they're described as reminiscent of jerky.

Boomerang - They're described as being tough but flavorsome. Herring is probably the best match because they're forage fish and have a strong flavor, but you could probably pick something with an even stronger flavor like mackerel. I don't know enough about unpopular edible fish to tell you which fish are tough, but also why would you want to make a recipe with that?

Hoopfish - They're described as actually tasting like fish. This is entirely unhelpful because the taste of fish varies a lot. Go with something ubiquitous like cod or salmon.

Spinner Fish - Orange juice??? No seriously, the description for cured spinner fish says, "Against all odds, it tastes like a popular brand of Alterra orange juice." I'm absolutely fascinated with the implications of this. If you made fish stock out of them, would it still taste like orange juice? Do they taste like orange juice because they have a high concentration of citric acid in their tissues? Could you use the fabricator to extract pure citric acid from them? I need to know!

Symbiote - They're described as lean and tasting like reconstituted lobster. I have no idea what the reconstituted part implies here, but the best match is apparently lobster. If that's too expensive, try artificial crab, maybe.

Feather Fish - When cooked it says they tickle the back of the throat; when cured it says they're waxy and melt in your mouth. Other than that, there's no hint as to what they might taste like.

Spinefish - They're described as being entirely bland, so the best match is probably whiting or tilapia.

Triops - Catfish my beloved~ Okay fine, they probably taste more like mudfish, but I actually have access to catfish, so we're going with that.

Red Feather Fish - The description says they're "fluffy with a bit of a kick" which implies they're kind of spicy. That has more to do with the recipe than the fish species. Use a flaky white fish to get a fluffy texture and pick a spicy recipe.

Arrow Ray - Stingray. Apparently stingrays are actually edible, but you probably won't be able to find them in a local grocery store. Arrow rays are also described as odorless and crispy and delicious when cured. Just pick the most delicious dried fish you can find if you want to go that route.

Noot Fish - I do noot know. The descriptions used the opportunity to make puns instead of describing the flavor. Pick your favorite carnivorous fish.

Discus Fish - Described as tasting like hot plastic. I'm not sure I even want to try.

Those ingredient lists are quite limited, but there are a few things we could process further to give us even more ingredients.

Vegetable and/or fish broth or stock

Make "orange juice" from spinner fish. It's just fish stock.

Extract citric acid from spinner fish using the fabricator. Half a teaspoon of citric acid powder in two tablespoons of water is the equivalent of two tablespoons of lemon juice for cooking purposes.

If we're going the route of extracting stuff with the fabricator, you could absolutely get sugar from fruit.

Fruit syrup

Shrub nut butter (like peanut butter or almond butter)

Shrub nut milk (like almond milk)

Shrub nut flour or meal (like almond flour or almond meal)

Shrub nut oil (like peanut oil)

Shrub nut cheese (I have personally tried making almond cheese before. It is almost, but not quite, entirely unlike cheese. It tastes like if marzipan were savory. Not sure I would recommend it, store bought non-dairy cheeses are much better, but hey, if Robin gets desperate, it does exist. And before anybody asks, the recipe I used did not require a cheese culture, which might have been part of the problem.)

Potato flour

Potato flour pasta

Flatbread made of potato or shrub nut flour

Alcohol made of fruit or potatoes (wine, cider, vodka, or just straight up moonshine.)

Vinegar made of homemade alcohol (this would take a lot of trial and error to do without the correct starter bacteria, but it is technically possible.)

Additionally, there's some things that aren't available in the game but would make sense if they were which I think you should be able to salvage from Alterra bases, hunt, or forage.

Titan Holefish - They are described as slow, stupid, and delicious, and yet you can't eat them? You can't do this to me!

Symbiote Eggs - Symbiotes lay their eggs in the gills of titan holefish. Symbiotes themselves are edible, which means their eggs should be too. Collect the eggs and eat them like caviar or roe.

Pengwing Eggs - Pengwings are birds, and their eggs appear to have a hard shell like Earth bird eggs. I was able to find their eggs on sheltered ice shelves, despite what the PDA says about them incubating their eggs in small cave burrows alongside thermal lily roots. You should be able to eat the eggs, assuming you can find some that have been freshly laid.

Chinese Potato Leaves - According to the abandoned PDA entry in the canteen of the Aurora called "Today's Menu" you can eat Chinese potato leaves. Incidentally, normal potato leaves are poisonous (so don't eat them!) but sweet potato leaves are edible and are supposed to taste kind of like spinach. Either the genetic engineering on the Chinese potato bred them to have edible leaves, or the Chinese potato was bred from a sweet potato (that's less likely; sweet potatoes are a vine and Chinese potatoes are not.) Since sweet potato leaves generally aren’t available in grocery stores, substitute them for spinach.

Spices and Dried Herbs - You're telling me that Alterra didn't leave behind any spices or dried herbs? Not even in the kitchen in Phi Robotics that got crushed in the cave in? Robin didn't even try to excavate that area, but she could have. She has access to a habitat builder to reinforce the cave ceiling and a laser cutter to cut through the walls of the building. Look, all I'm saying is that if the only things I have to season my recipes with are salt, spicy peppers, and creative uses of unusually flavored fish, I'm going to revolt.

Shelf Stable Goods - Shelf stable goods usually include things like baking powder, baking soda, dry yeast, vinegar, oil, canned goods, dehydrated goods, sugar, flour, cereal, candy, pasta, dried beans, grains like rice or oats, seasonings, and condiments. Alterra could have left behind some shelf stable goods shipped in from offworld. They left behind a lot, even personal items, because they were in a hurry to leave, and storage space on vehicles designed to escape atmosphere is limited (just look at Ryley's escape rocket.) There's a line early on in the first Subnautica game that says, "It is common for those accustomed to synthetic foods to be repulsed by eating an animal carcass," implying that Alterrans tend to be used to eating synthetic food. However, we know they weren't just eating nutrient bars because they were growing food in multiple places, and there's a plate of food left behind in Emmanuel's observatory. It's possible they only synthesize meat, or they molecularly rearrange their vegetable goods into shelf stable formats (hence the synthesized moniker.) According to the Aurora's menu, Alterrans eat soup made of tardigrades, rehydrated minced beef with freshly grown mashed Chinese potatoes and sauteed potato leaves, dehydrated desserts (I'm thinking stuff like freeze-dried ice cream,) and dried fruits and nuts, so not all their foods are synthesized. Also according to that data entry, you can reconstitute nutrient bars at a fabricator, so that's interesting.

Feel free to propose your own ingredient substitutes. I'll post some actual recipe ideas later since this is getting long.

Edit: Here's some recipe ideas.