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Food in Nora's Return (in mostly reverse order of appearance)
On Nora’s, she found a mound of lavender-scented rice, shredded lamb, fire-burnt leeks, and coins of pumpkin with two sauces on the side: mint and lavender-sage. Gabriel’s plate did not resemble hers at all, save for the fragrant rice. His meat was flakes of white fish mixed with lemons and zested with orange.
~
“What are we going to do when we see them?” Gabriel asked. He tore the spongy teff bread into tiny pieces, dropping them into the thick stew of tomatoes, peppers, and shredded duck. Nora spooned some of the stew onto her bread. “Act as we always do.
~
For the first time Nora could remember, when she walked downstairs for breakfast, Ambrose was waiting for her. He held one large tray carrying two small bowls of a rice porridge with many small bowls holding different fruits and spices and two cups of rice milk.
~
“Sorry for stopping by so late,” Nora said. She held a tray carrying a small pistachio sesame cream cake and a pot of that smoky Crellish tea Ambrose had liked before.
~
When Nora woke again, she found a bowl of a creamy rice porridge sitting on a tray on her desk. The porridge was still hot.
~
The bowl placed before Nora was tall and wide, half-filled with steaming soup. The waiter set a mountain of fragrant white rice next to her bowl. The oil in the soup glistened in the sunlight. Soft pink flakes formed a circle in the center of her soup. Surrounding it were a bundle of moon-white mushrooms, a twist of dark green leaves, several translucent slices of a root, and a golden, gelled yolk nestled in two halves of a small, cream egg white. Nora slid her spoon just below the surface, scooping up both soup and a few dots of oil. She sipped it from her spoon. Heat from the spices and peppers warmed her mouth. The fish flavor was subtle and almost sweet. Nora scooped in a spoonful of rice and took a larger bite.
~
Nora sat on the other side of the tray. He had brought hummus, puffed rice crackers, grilled bananas, and a variety of berries. “This looks delicious.” Ambrose spread some hummus on a cracker and held it out for Nora to take. “I had them add extra lemon to the hummus for your preferred abomination.”
~
Nora sent him to find them a place to sit while she purchased for them: two bowls of small bowl of cool, sticky rice mixed with black beans, coconut, and mango.
~
Ambrose met them near the door of the dining room with a large platter of steamed buns. “My treat, today,” he said. Nora had not arranged anything special for lunch, content with whatever the Academy had ordered in, and so had no issue shifting to steamed buns instead. Gabriel likewise shrugged.
~
“Why luna buns?” Ivy gave her a confused look, but then turned back to her pot. She pulled another spoon from the spoon cup and used it to fish out the one she’d dropped. “They’re the first thing I learned to make. I was too sick to attend the festival on Astelanon so my papa learned how to make luna buns so I wouldn’t miss out.” Her voice, sweet as ever, rang with a note of sadness. “We didn’t have a grill, so he fried the rice instead of grilling it. That’s still my favorite way to make them.” She washed off the spoon that had fallen into her pot and dropped it back into the correct cup.
“No letters yet?” Nora asked, remembering Ivy’s tears from nearly two months ago.
Ivy shook her head. “Do you prefer your ginger syrup hot or sweet?”
“Hot.”
Ivy shot her a quick smile over her shoulder. “Me too. Papa prefers sweet though. He always says his life has had enough spice and that he deserves some sweetness now.” Ivy removed the pot from the heat and gave it one more stir. She then piled her bowl of cooked rice and a bowl of water onto the empty tray and moved them to the table beside Nora. Ivy wet her hands and scooped up some rice to roll into a ball. “He likes fillings in his buns, too. I prefer plain, though.” She glanced up at Nora. “More ginger flavor that way.”
Nora nodded, somewhat disbelieving she and Ivy had this one thing in common. “I prefer plain, too.” Gabriel liked his stuffed with a lemon curd. Ambrose preferred chopped nuts and cardamom.
~
“Get us a table,” she ordered the others. “I’ll get us some tirazi.”
Gabriel and Ambrose looked puzzled, but Ivy’s eyes widened. “What flavors do they have?” she asked.
“Sweet cream and a sour cherry jam,” Nora said. “You’ve had them?”
“One of my babysitters growing up was from Tegata. She’d make them for special days. Ask if they have lemon cream?”
“I will,” Nora promised. Then, unsure why, she did. The shopkeep did have lemon cream. She also had passion fruit curd.
(Note: Tirazi are fried sweet dough with fillings.)
~
Nora did not know how to respond to that. She took a bite of her rice. It was unctuous with rich duck meat, soft egg yolks, and a thread of sweet mustard for balance. She savored the bite to give herself a moment to think.
~
The family table was not covered with a variety of dishes. Instead, Nora only counted five serving plates or bowls, each filled with one of the king’s favorite foods. Outside, Nora knew the others dined a starry sky’s worth of small dishes, each exquisitely flavored. Family did not need such a show of wealth.
[...]
Ambrose returned carrying a bottle of esal, a fruit wine made from plums and pineapples.
~
The next day, Nora sent out for a picnic lunch with a variety of pickled fruits and vegetables with soft patties of pounded rice and a variety of sauces.
~
But then Gabriel asked, “What did Fletcher want?” His focus was on his meal, a thick stew of vegetables and spices and a side of spongy flatbread. Ambrose, however, was focused fully on her.
[...]
“I won’t ask for details then,” Ivy said, scooping up some of her stew with her bread. Not a single drop fell onto her dress. Nora glanced down at her own bowl and the spoon she was using to eat. Before she would have pointed out how uncouth Ivy was for using her bread like a spoon and part of her ached to say the same now, but she knew they weren’t true. Plenty of people didn’t need utensils to eat like Nora did. They were graceful enough to manage without.
~
“Nowhere,” Nora said quickly. She stuffed a bite of sticky rice and fruit into her mouth. The mint chopped through the dish was cooling.
~
The girl was back and carrying a large plate and forks. “Apologies, your highness. I didn’t mean to hear or interrupt, but my brother really will slaughter me if I don’t give you some pie. You’ll like it. His pies are the best. He makes his own flour blend.” She slipped the pie onto the table and handed each of them a fork.
[...]
Nora took a small bite. The pie had a floral lemon filling that melted over her tongue. The crust was flaky instead of the dense crusts she was accustomed to. She savored the bite, her eyes fluttering closed. When she opened them again, Ambrose was looking away, blushing again, and Gabriel was shaking his head.
~
Ambrose carried the small tray of sweets over to the table Ivy had chosen inside. He had bought Nora two cinnamon cookies as promised and a golden brown bar for himself. The bar was a smoky caramel brownie the bakery had designed just for Ambrose during one of their many visits prior to joining the Academy. Many sweet shops across the city had added some menu items over the years to appeal to his need for smoky, even burnt flavors.
Ivy had also chosen a cookie, though hers was topped with a soft pink icing. She ate oddly, Nora noticed. After taking one small bite, Ivy scraped off a bit of icing and savored it slowly. Then, she scraped off another piece. Her gaze was studious, but not focused on anything in particular. Then she ate some of the plain cookie without frosting. Again, she chewed very slowly. Finally, she took another normal bite.
Nora glanced at Ambrose to see if he was noticing her behavior as well. He was. “Is everything all right?” Ambrose asked.
Ivy’s cheeks darkened. “Sorry. I had expected a vanilla frosting that would soften the sharpness of the lemon in the cookie, but it isn’t just vanilla. The frosting has a very slight fruit element as well, though not as fresh as the lemon. A tea perhaps? The cookie is also incredibly soft, almost as if—excuse me.” She stood and strode over to the counter. She spoke to the clerk for a moment and then the clerk fled to the kitchen. A moment later, a tall man with arms like barrels exited the kitchen.
Ivy greeted him with a smile. “My apologies for disturbing you,” she said. “I was enjoying your lemon cookie and I had a few questions.” She confirmed the use of tea in the frosting and then turned the discussion to the flours used in the cookie. The baker denied using any rice flours in the cookies which prompted Ivy to ask, “Are you friends with a winemaker then, perhaps?”
~
“Clever,” Nora said. “My suggestion is The Broken Wheel. They’re another bakery and make rather delicious spiced meat steamed buns.”
~
“Teo finally convinced his father to add some food to the menu. He said if we give him a day’s warning, he’ll include those big, sticky cinnamon buns on the day’s menu and save us a few.”
“How long have you known about this?” Nora asked, imagining the soft, warm, spicy buns. Teo was two years older than they were and worked in his father’s bar at the harbor. Thanks to his good relationships with merchants, he had access to ingredients others couldn’t afford—like the cinnamon for Nora’s buns.
~
Nora took a bite of her millet cake. Warmth filled her mouth, which matched well with the spicy ginger tisane.
~
Nora noticed he barely touched his food—a cool mint and carrot soup and steamed meat buns. It was simple fare, but appropriate for the holiday.
~
Petra filled a small tray with a variety of steamed buns, indicating which were leftover from lunch and which were filled with fruit jelly. She also boiled some water and fixed up a pot of tea. “Tell the prince this is from my private stash,” Petra advised her. “If he wants more, his father needs to finalize his trade deal with Creldyn.”
~
On the bench, Viola divided the half-dozen tirazi between them. Nora chose one with a dot of speckled cream poking out of one end. It was still warm and the fragrant vanilla cream filled her mouth with delight. She hummed in pleasure.
[...]
She selected another tirazi, this one smeared with a bit of red jam. The nutty dough complemented the sour cherries well.
~
Ambrose sprinkled more smoky pepper over his fish as he thought. “I’m sure they’d find need of me if I showed up, but no one’s sent word I need to be home.”
“Good. What do you think, Gabriel?”
Gabriel swallowed a bite of lemon rice. “I’d planned on visiting the harbor, but something new sounds fun.”
~
“Pickles. Fried pickles on a stick.”
~
“Yes, Petra,” Nora said in a tone she knew would make Petra roll her eyes. Nora followed the corridor into the kitchens and passed along Petra’s instructions. Within moments one of the bakers had her nestled next to a big belly oven with a roll of spongy flatbread spread with honey in one hand and a mug of sweetened tisane in the other. The aroma of rich spices and fish filled the kitchen. The various kitchen servants chattered and shared gossip. Nora withstood the warmth of the oven side seat for two bites of her bread before slowly sneaking away from the kitchen to an outer, cooler room.
~
Around dinner time, the kitchen staff brought her a small tray of rice and the same rich fish curry she’d smelled earlier.
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You meet god and she's mostly dead fish. You ask her why and she says most of the world is dead fish, and she's made herself to appeal to the most common denominator, the everyman funnyman comedy show that runs for eleven seasons but with the entire universe in mind. You ask her how much of the dead fish is your fault, she says it's far less than you'd think, in the grand scheme of things. You ask her if you matter at all. If you can do anything. She shrugs her rotting shoulders and says mattering is a made-up concept, like life, but sure, you can matter if you want to, on some scale. She has many scales. She doesn't know what you mean by 'anything', but you can do everything you can. You ask her if it's enough. She says there's no base requirement for deserving to exist. She's smoking a joint and the smoke filtering out of her gills gathers and forms gas giants and red dwarfs. You ask her if there's any hidden secrets of the universe you should know and she says it's not a secret if she tells, plus it's fun to let you figure it out yourself. You ask her if any of your questions were right questions and she says you worry about being right so much it might keep you from fucking around, which is as close to meaning of life as she ever bothered to make. You don't ask but she says she loves your hair, also your whole being, also your planet. She says she figured out what love is yesterday and is trying it out, which explains the ten thousand rainbows and sudden influx in rains of fish. She offers you a drag of her joint and you wake up half past midnight behind a chain restaurant clutching a smoked salmon. The new stars are winking like they're in on some joke and you're sure if you try hard enough you'll remember what it is.
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Jobs don’t always limit the skills you learn to the job itself. For instance, when I worked at Red Robin, they’d offer 30 minutes for an unpaid lunch, or 15 if you wanted to get paid the whole time. If you think that’s extremely shitty join the club.
As a result of wanting money I got really good at eating quickly so I could use my break to read or relax. I’ve always been a fast eater but when I worked there I learned how to eat an entire burger and fries in under five minute while keeping up a conversation. This is not advisable for good digestion, eat slow and chew your food.
There’s a balance to not talking with your mouth full and eating extremely quickly and it was a regularly used skill for years. When I worked at a sex shop I bragged about it once to a coworker.
She watched me with a timer going after I told her about it and we got burgers. I chatted with her the whole time. I was done in four minutes forty seconds.
Afterward she looked haunted and commented, “It was like watching a snake unhinge it’s jaw but you never talked with food in your mouth!”
More recently my beloved and I were catching up with a friend over lunch. I had a sandwich while they’d gotten falafel plates. We were having a lovely chat but after I finished a story our friend said, “I don’t want your food to go cold while you talk!”
I was surprised. I’d been deliberately talking more so she could eat. I turned to show her my empty sandwich box. Both she and my beloved were stunned. It was like I’d performed a magic trick and made my sandwich disappear because neither had even noticed me demolishing it like a snake unhinging it’s jaw.
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i want to take the time to talk about a series of disabilities that no one takes seriously or even recognizes as a disability, which is food intolerances, and allergies. if a person can get sick if they eat the wrong foods, they are disabled, as this illness will make them unable to function all because they ate the wrong food. it's not okay to guilt someone for seeking foods that won't injure them.
in 2022, i began to lose my ability to digest land meats (pork, chicken, cow, etc.), animal milks, and eggs. it started slowly but quickly progressed to every type of land meat. i am only able to digest seafood, plants, nuts, seeds safely without becoming horribly sick. i tried to buy cow's milk because it is cheaper recently and became so ill it was genuinely traumatic. i have never been that sick in my life before. i cannot safely ingest cow's milk, the cheaper option, because it will injure me for several days or even weeks at a time. this happens to me with all land meats as well.
i cannot eat eggs. i cannot fried rice that has egg, i cannot eat most sauces like mayo or ranch dressing because of their high egg content. i cannot eat anything dressed in mayo as a sauce. anything that is baked or brushed or washed with egg is a risk. my digestive system really hates eggs in particular and they are inescapable.
people who can't digest or process lactose, gluten, meats, seafood, eggs, nuts, seeds, beans, fiber, certain fats, proteins or sugars don't have their needs considered very often, nor taken seriously, especially when that person is poor. people with digestive issues need to be able to eat foods that don't hurt us- it's not our faults that alternative milks, breads, pizzas, snacks, sauces, dips, spreads, meats and more are significantly more expensive. we still need to be able to eat foods that don't harm us regardless of how much money we make.
#disability#physical disability#disabled#invisible disability#disability rights#digestive disorders#digestive health#food allergies#food intolerance#lactose intolerance#our writing#about us
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One of the benefits of making your school AU specifically a university AU is that there are so many ways to justify a particular character seemingly always being on campus which don't require them to be a student or teacher. "Middle-aged alumnus who hasn't taken a class in decades but still hits the student cafeteria every day because they live nearby and it's cheaper than fast food" isn't merely plausible, I literally knew that guy.
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One quiet day on the farm, the Little Red Hen found some wheat seeds and decided to make bread.
"Who will help me plant these seeds?" the Little Red Hen asked.
"I would." said the Horse "But I'm a workhorse, and I'm too busy moving carts around."
And so the Little Red Hen planted the seeds by herself. And they grew into bountiful golden crops.
"Who will help me harvest the wheat?" the Little Red Hen asked.
"I would." said the Dog "But I'm a guarddog, and I'm too busy keeping away burglars and predators."
And so the Little Red Hen harvested the wheat herself and made it into flour.
"Who will help me bake the flour?" the Little Red Hen asked.
"I would." said the Pig "But I'm a mother of 5 newborn piglets, and I'm too busy taking care of my young."
And so the Little Red Hen baked the bread herself into twenty beautiful loaves.
"Who will help me eat the bread?" the Little Red Hen asked.
"We would." said the Farm Animals. "But we're ashamed, for we didn't do anything to make the bread."
"Nonsense!" said the Little Red Hen. "You, Horse, helped move around the stones that built my oven. You, Dog, kept me safe while I worked. And you, Pig, are raising a new generation of Farm Animals, who will too contribute to our Farm one day. You've all helped me so much by simply being you."
"Besides," the Little Red Hen added. "I couldn't possibly eat all the loaves on my own, most of them would go to waste. Come, eat with me."
And so the Little Red Hen and the Farm Animals ate the bread together. And all saw their own, and each other's, worth.
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Always Favors You
Another Sibling Danny and Jason idea!!
"Are you Jason Peter Todd?!" demanded a deep and commanding tone from the strange glowing being in front of them.
All the Bats stiffened and tensed, no doubt gearing up for a fight against the being that somehow knew Red Hood's full name.
Jason, Red Hood, decided to put on a brave front despite no doubt cursing in his head and wondering how the heck did this thing know his full freaking name.
"Whose asking." he snarled out, his hands twitching for his gun when the huge glowing knight with purple flames coming out of his helmet and cape, who was riding on a nightmare looking horse while they all had been in the cave going over tonight's patrol.
The Knight didn't seemed bothered by his response nor did he even seem to care or flinch when Batman made his own demand on 'Why was he there and who was he' or when Damian unsheathed his sword and pointed it towards him. Instead the strange glowing Knight reached to it side and pulled out... A glowing scroll? Huh. (Also he completely unnerved everyone in the room when the Knight didn't even react when Batman had tossed a Baterang when he reached for his side)
The Knight opened the scroll and spoke clearly with purpose.
"Jason Peter Todd,
You are hereby invited as a special guest of honor to the crowning of our future King of the Infinite Realms.
Daniel Phantom, once Daniel Jackson Fenton, and once Daniel Austen Todd.
Prince of the Infinite Realms, the Keeper of Balance, The Peacekeeping Halfa, the Defeater of the Tyrant King Pariah Dark, The Great One, Youngest of the Ancients, Ancient of Space, The Bridge between Life and Death.
You, the half-brother of our King, have been given the highest of honors for your past actions and will be given housing and food in the Realms and Phantom's Keep, for the week long event. Personal servants and attendants will be at your disposal and a seamstress will be on hand to tailor make your attire for the Coronation.
Signed: Clockwork. Ancient of Time. Watcher of the Infinite Timeline. Kronos. Mentor and Adviser.
PS: I shall have Fright Knight ("Me" the Knight bluntly said for a second) leave this scroll along with a personal one for you from Daniel to read over and once you make up your mind sign the bottom of the scroll.
I do hope in time you will pick the right choice Jason Todd, we of the Infinite Realms would like to reward you for your actions. After all, if you hadn't gotten young Daniel away from your father that night all those years ago, we would never had gained our Prince nor be free from our once Tyrant King.
Ah, one more thing.
The Infinite Realms will always favor you Jason."
Jason felt like he couldn't breath as Fright Knight? Rolled up the scroll, pulled a letter from his side, and held out the two items for him to take.
#danny phantom#danny fenton#crossover#dp x dc#blue rambles#danny phantom dc#writing ideas#random idea#dpxdc#Danny and Jason are half brothers#Fright Knight#Clockwork mention#Jason saved baby Danny when Willis came home drunk one night and their mom was out of her mind at the moment#Danny had been crying for food and Willis was getting annoyed#Jason managed to run off with baby Danny to a few towns over and put him in a baby box before getting caught a few other towns over by cops#and was shipped back to Gotham#kept his mouth shut about where he put his brother and took any punishment that came afterwords#It set up the timeline where Danny is going to become the Infinite Realms new King#Hence why the kinda sentient Realms 'rewarded' Jason later on when he died aka bringing him back to life#I love the idea of a kinda sentient Realms tbh#it loves Danny because he's been helping rebuild and mend the Realms#Danny is its fav King thus favors those related to him#well everyone but Willis#he's in Walkers prison btw#I want Jason to go tbh and see how every ghost is getting everything ready for the coronation#its chaotic yet organized somehow#I want more Danny's coronation stories#Like I love already King or just finding out Prince Danny but we need more coronation ones tbh
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monologue
#they said i couldnt have a worse speech bubbles to image ratio and i said 'bet?'#isat spoilers#in stars and time#in stars and time fanart#isat fanart#isat siffrin#isat loop#two hats spoilers#isat#lucabyteart#sifloop#not rlly but it gets the tag in case ppl r backscrolling my tags on my blog for some reason#anyway this dialogue has been kicking around in my files for about 2 months as it is known to do & i wanted to play with typesetting#'write a fic if you like words so much' absolutely not . what if it was pictures instead. and also i wanted an excuse 2 loop gradient#but yeah uhhhh this is very . very loosely the result of me thinking about the 'island is trapped in the fucking future' theory.#like if so. would it just like. reappear. when the rest of the world catches up w where it was stuck in time. like . 20 more years on.#and thus the q: god wait at what point would sif be older than the age they last knew their parents to be. theyre nearly 30 now so like.#you can see my logical path thru these thoughts yes? anyway i think its fun when these two put their braincells together to realise#the horrors. and kind of exclusively the horrors. wahoo!!!#anyway food for thought re: island reappears and to the islanders it's not been any time at all. but its been like 30 years for the rest#fuck do you do: your boy returns 30 years older plus a family (maybe even a child) and minus . a fucking eye.#also theres a fucking angel with them? update. thats also your boy what the fuck. wait fym theyre married. hold on. wait--
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Sometimes suffering is just suffering. It doesn’t make you stronger. It doesn’t build character. It only hurts.
Kate Jacobs; Comfort Food
#Kate Jacobs; Comfort Food#motivation#quotes#poetry#literature#relationship quotes#writing#original#words#love#relationship#thoughts#lit#prose#spilled ink#inspiring quotes#life quotes#quoteoftheday#love quotes#poem#aesthetic
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#i will cook heart shaped food for you#positivity#spilled thoughts#spilled words#spilled writing#thoughts#writing#my thoughts#quotes#spilled ink#spilled poetry#artists on tumblr#art#my posts#posts on tumblr#love quote tumblr#love#heart shaped#photography#love couple#couple#romantic#literature
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Just a pair of friendly sorcerers out on a stroll~
#jujutsu kaisen#jjk#sukuna#ryomen sukuna#uraume#jjk sukuna#jjk uraume#true form sukuna#og sukuna#heian era#king of curses#fan art#my art#jjk art#sukuna when he's not out terrorising villagers and sorcerers: I eat drink and sleep#oh and maybe he likes to read stuff? write poetry? too? but today he's gonna sleep like a lazy cat instead#Food tastes better when you're eating it with another person#so i HC Sukuna doesn't mind having Uraume eating along with him#:')
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I love how unsanitized The Terror feels. Like there’s grime everywhere. You can tell those men smell bad. When they do surgery you can hear the bone being cut, when they get sick they look genuinely ill. The main character’s actor even has pockmarks, he LOOKS like he could be from the 1800s! And idk, I think it’s cool that we’re so aware of the characters’ carnal desires. They’re hungry, thirsty, freezing, etc, and it is so obvious that they have a body with needs!!
I think this also accounts for how horny the show feels, even though everyone is bundled up 90% of the time and there are no real romantic subplots. Besides the fact that it’s a very carnal show, it just has the intimacy and grime of true horniness. Is this thing on
#rambling#virtually none of my mutuals/followers like The Terror… y’all please give it a shot…..#it’s SO MUCH like jsamn. like surprisingly similar#speaking of fantasy novels#I should write a little essay about how many Great Stories have a sense of physical realism to them!#like think about Lord of the Rings#in those books it takes them ages to get anywhere. they spend a lot of time talking about their water bottles and food supplies#and I’m thinking of that one bit where they spend the whole chapter trying to figure out how to get down a small cliff#you FEEL like you’re hiking with them#same sorta deal with the terror#the terror#the terror amc#I’m talking about horniness very confidently for someone who is ace lol
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When I worked pizza it was a rough gig. I’ve talked about getting fired but the reality was that it was ridiculously easy to get fired at that place. For that reason it was a bit hard to get attached to new hires. Until they passed the two month mark it wasn’t worth forming emotional attachments.
Enter Daisy. There was nothing wrong with Daisy, really, as a person. She just was a bit ditzy and couldn’t hustle worth a damn. For these sins the veteran staff was almost constantly annoyed at Daisy.
But she was blithely unconcerned or unaware of our frostiness. She greeted us with chirpy friendliness every day that was undeterred by our almost blatant ignoring of her. This was fine with Daisy. She’d fill the silence we left by talking our ears off about her dead beat boyfriend, whatever thought was in her head that moment, and the current drama in her friend circle.
One day we snapped. Daisy clearly needed some hazing because we were going crazy. She made herself a pizza for dinner and passed it off to the guy working the ovens, then went to the bathroom.
I don’t remember this being premeditated but all three of us left in her wake lunged for the anchovies.
See. We had anchovies on hand for the very rare occasions someone asked for them on a pizza. It was terribly uncommon but we had them. It stunk up the entire restaurant every time anchovy went in the oven so we all unilaterally loathed anchovies. We assumed Daisy would loathe them too. We poured the fish juice from the can all over her pizza.
We all then went nonchalantly about our work. Daisy’s pizza came out and I sliced it for her as she strolled over from the bathroom. She smiled and thanked me and sat with her back to us, scrolling her phone.
We waited like horrible little imps of mischief, anticipating her outraged and disgusted cries. She lifted the pizza and we leaned closer, malicious in our delight. She took a bite. She chewed. Swallowed. Took another bite.
Slowly we became transfixed. We left off all our closing clean up tasks to watch Daisy’s back as she ate her pizza with every sign of enjoyment. Our malevolence fizzes out into shock. She didn’t say a peep about the anchovy juice. The oven guy had emptied the can over her food and she was unmoved. We couldn’t look away.
We were silent as she finished and brought her plate over to be bussed. We stared at her.
“What?”
“Did you… like… your pizza?”
“It was fine.”
I broke. I was broken. This girl, this annoying cheerful girl, had broken me. “Daisy,” I said in agony, “We poured anchovy juice all over it. How did you even eat that pizza!?”
“Oh! I thought it was really salty! I don’t actually have a lot of taste buds there’s this weird thing with my nose. I really only get like salty, sweet, bitter. You guys put anchovy juice on it!? That’s so funny!”
Reader, she meant it. She thought it was hilarious that we had spiked her pizza with fish oil. She thought it was even funnier that she’d eaten it all without knowing. We all kept laughing together through closing duties, repeating “I thought it was salty!”
That was it. Daisy was part of the team. She had eaten all the malice we had toward her and come out smiling. She won. The following story took place well over a decade ago. I’m aware it contains shitty behavior. You’re supposed to realize it was shitty that’s why I wrote it.
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i just think it's bullshit that alternative meats, milks, eggs, breads, and other foods are prohibitively expensive. like i don't know how to tell people that not everyone who eats vegan or vegetarian is choosing to eat that way because of their moral beliefs- a lot of people are eating these foods because they have food allergies or intolerances, or have other gastrointestinal issues
i don't have a choice. it's downright cruel to make these different options more expensive. there is no one size fits all diet- every single person needs a unique diet and some folks literally have no choice but to utilize these substitutes. some vegetarians cant digest soy. some vegetarians can't eat beans. i also don't know how to tell you that not every vegetarian or vegan can ingest raw vegetables and fruits, or even cooked ones, for that matter
there are a LOT of health conditions like irritable bowel syndrome, gastroparesis, crohns disease, and other gastrointestinal issues that can cause a person to become very sick or even die if they ingest too much raw plant matter, especially vegetables high in fiber. when these fibers cannot be broken down by a person's digestive system, they can form blockages in the intestines and kill people. not every person on this planet benefits from eating a lot of leafy greans. some people are allergic to chlorophyll. some people are allergic to citric acid. diabetic people have to be careful with certain vegetables and fruits causing spikes or dips in blood sugar, and many people with diabetes end up with gastroparesis, or similar gut issues. there are a lot of reasons why people can't just switch to a diet of salads and fruit smoothies every day.
alternative foods need to be available to everyone, regardless of how much income they make. having safer alternative foods should not be relegated to the rich. these are not just being consumed by spiritual white moms on instagram. these foods need to be accessed by disabled people all over the world.
#cripple punk#disability#disabled#actually disabled#crip punk#cpunk#ibs#crohns disease#ibd#ulcerative colitis#gastroparesis#diabetes#our writing#accessibility#ableism#punk#food
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HEART MADE OF GLASS
a/n: this is totally not to make myself feel better. totally not self indulgent cause i couldn't finish cooking my dinner last night. that gif is also self indulgent. but also hopefully a distraction from how angsty this kind of is. divider as always by the lovely @saradika-graphics.
summary: you couldn't control when they could come. the waves of nothingness - of battling with your body and mind in the hopes it would cause a shift. you wanted to control it. he simply wanted to help.
word count: 1.1k
pairing: logan howlett x reader
warnings: angst, fluff, disassociating, depression isn't outright stated but that's what it is, meat eating (sorry i'm an iron anemic bitch), logan's love language being acts of service.
The fire alarm never went off when you were in the kitchen. So he felt his heart jump at the sound of it blaring through the small apartment. Even down the hall and in the bathroom he smelled the bitter smoke as it rose from the pan you were currently staring at. A blank expression on your face and hand gripping the handle.
He meant to grab his flannel and join you for dinner. What he didn't expect was the emptiness of a silent kitchen not filled with your usual music. Your soft hums as you try to keep in tune with the song.
Logan's favorite pastime was standing in the doorway watching you cook whatever creation came to mind. Whether it tasted good or positively vile, he'd eat it one way or another. He'd swallow happily with a grin simply to see that smile bloom across your face. A look he did everything possible to keep right where it was meant to be.
"Bub?"
You startled, flinching at the sound of the alarm as you shoved the pan away from the burner. "Shit. Sorry."
A frown etched onto his face at your quick apology—your eyes never quite meeting him. "Everythin' okay?"
"Yeah," you said, lying right through your teeth. "I just got distracted."
Logan could hear the bullshit louder than the alarm. He knew something was wrong, because he'd seen it before. The silence that filled a once loud household. How you slowed down during the day, unable to finish simple tasks without pushing yourself over the edge. He watched you dwindle down to the barest bones your body had to offer and yet you never asked him for help.
You never explained why it occurred.
This wasn't in part because you didn't want to. You did. You simply held no real reason for why your body—your mind—chose to betray you at the oddest of times. At first you figured it was the lack of sleep. The restlessness that ate away at your body each night—keeping you up and active until finally you wore yourself out.
But this wasn't that.
This came from deep inside your chest, lingering beneath the surface—waiting for something good to happen before it struck with a vengeance. This protruded out of your very nightmares.
"Need some help?" He knew the answer before it came. No.
What could he possibly do that you hadn't tried a million times over? There was no easy fix for something this brutal. Silently, you begged him to leave the kitchen and find something else to occupy his time. He stubbornly stood behind you, watching over your shoulder as you dumped the now burned pan in the sink. What might have been a delicious steak now looked like a charred brick.
The sight of it still smoking only seemed to dampen your mood further.
You fought to keep yourself there, in the moment. But the dazed expression from earlier began to slowly trail its way back up your face. Until you could do nothing but stare at the mess you made, exhaustion slicing down to your bones.
His looming presence became an afterthought to all that filtered through your head. All the brittle and vile thoughts you tried to keep at bay. Some days they managed to weasel their way past your infinite walls. Some days...they found joy in tearing you up inside little by little.
Voicing it aloud though would never be an option to the havoc you tried to tame.
"C'mon," he muttered, his hands pulling at your hips to move you. "Out of the kitchen."
"I can finish–"
His glare was devastating.
Most of the time you'd ask him to tell you what he was thinking. Tonight you understood his demand. Get out of the kitchen before you hurt yourself. Let him do what you often did for everyone else.
Give him the chance to put you first.
He points to the chair originally pulled out for him. "Sit down."
But unlike other people he encountered, you were far more stubborn. "I don't–"
"Sit on the chair bub. Or I'll tie you to it." The grin he gives you is filled with sarcasm, but you can see the truth shining in his eyes. He wouldn't hesitate to follow through on a promise like that. He wouldn't even blink. "Your choice."
There was no argument left to throw at him, because his attention was elsewhere. So you sat. You allowed yourself to rest as he stumbled his way through the kitchen. Logan couldn't really cook. He picked up what he could through the life he lived, but nothing came out exactly perfect. That wasn't what warmed your heart at the sight of him standing there intent on delivering a meal worth eating.
He didn't shy away when you tried to push. When the horror that you needed someone to help was no longer a fact you could ignore. No matter how hard you shoved and bit and did what you could to scare him off. Logan pushed back. He quelled your bite with a stature of resolute stoicism.
With an exhale, he flipped the burner off and slid whatever he'd made onto a clean plate. Watching him move felt as if you were being placed in a trance. You almost told him that once in your first week of dating. Something told you he already knew by the way your eyes tracked him from the kitchen to the table.
"Steak," he said, sitting with a grunt.
A quick glance told you one thing. Logan didn't know shit about cooking steak.
You grinned nonetheless.
"There's..." Red spilled down the side, pooling on the plate as steam hit your face. "How long did you cook it?"
He shrugged, slicing it with ease and plopping a piece into his mouth. "Tastes fine to me."
"I'm sure it does."
"Watch it bub," he muttered mid chew, his lips curled into a smirk.
Making a show of zipping your lips shut, you took the piece he offered you. And as he did each time before, you ate it with a grin simply to watch his smirk turn into a smile. There may have been no salt, no extra flavor, and strangely a charred sensation with each bite. But you could taste the love spreading across your tongue with ease.
"Delicious," you garbled in the hopes he'd understand how much you loved him.
He snorted, shoving the plate to the center of the table. His thumb swiped at the juice that leaked from the corner of your mouth, causing your heart to jump erratically in your chest. Even on your bad days he managed to flip the switch in your mind with simple touches and soft looks.
"'M gonna order a pizza."
Leaning into his hand, you pressed a kiss to his wrist. "Thank you."
#just need a large man to cook me food when my mood dips drastically#manifesting this for all of you#logan howlett x reader#logan howlett x you#logan howlett x y/n#logan howlett#wolverine x reader#wolverine x you#wolverine x y/n#wolverine#my writing
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