#food sucks

[fatpiggy00]

I hate myself for being so fat

[mirconreadzztuff22]

I regret everything

I just ate and apparently that was a fucking ancient devil fruit or some shit cause now I feel like regurgitating my organs 😍

How wonderful life is 😘

[auroramosaic]

tummy hurt event 10 dead 20 injured (microbiome not counted)

[knucklegagging]

Okay. I officially hate myself.

I went to sleep last night instead of eating dinner. Skipped straight past all the cravings cuz I wanted to weigh less. Convinced I could do it too. Oh the idiocy of me! Had my breakfast, a homemade chicken salad w roasted pecans and cranberries. Inside one 8 inch wrap that’s just 213 calories for Two Tblsp of the salad. “Salad” It’s just chicken, pecans, and cranberries wolled up in the smush of non-fat greek yoghurt and some miracle whip w lots of fresh dill and mint ground up and some black pepper and red onion. One corndog cuz I had to appease the deomns stressing about my lack of fat and that gives me another 220. Lunch had rolled around then and of course came my half a turkey sandwich: One slice of aldi white bread (65) 1.2 oz black pepper turkey (30) .4oz of lite miracle whip (15 for the record just in case anyone needs in on this yummy low cal advice. Cuz a little surely does go such a long ways) and 1.5 strings of black licorice. A whopping total of 159 calories. Plus breakfast and I’m majorly below a grand. But what happens this morning???? WhaAt dost THOU thinkst!??? Of course I’ve gained again. Betting it’s false weight but still fuck the scale. fucking 118.7 I hate these ass-tagious fluctuations. Swear to the sacred cow god of Yore that if I get my fucking period this month I’m going to go on a trecherous killing spree through every garden and none of the ants and cockroaches shall survive. I will exact my wrath on all of them.

I’m so pissed at this point and I’m also fucking starving. But I can’t eat. I can’t eat cuz if I do it’ll only give this assfaced scale more permission to keep fucking creeping. I finally know what the great Sandler felt when he wrote these few phenomenal, evocative lyrics, “Kill me. I’m on my knees pretty pretty please kill me. Somebody kill me please Somebody kill me please I want to die. Put a bullet in my head.” So poetic. I’m gonna be a death by cheeseburger.

[gildedoak]

Episode 7: Beignets!

I rewatched S2E2 of Helluva Boss ("Seeing Stars") and got hit with that BANGER of a line from Loona about dads having issues and messing up all the time but still caring. VIVZIE, I am sensing a THEMEEEEEEE.

And thank you for all the lovely comments thus far! I'm so tickled to see how many folks connect with this, whether you're from the American South or not. Food is such a core love language for so many people.

SOUTHERN COMFORT FOOD SERIES Chicken and Waffles Sweet Tea Peach Cobbler Hushpuppies Crab/Crawfish Boil Gumbo (plus character notes!) Fried Catfish Shrimp and Grits Cornbread Pecan Pie Biscuits and Gravy

Description under the cut!

[IMAGE DESCRIPTION: Radioapple comic

PANEL 1: (Lucifer sits atop a barstool-like chair on his balcony at the hotel. He's curled up in on himself, quietly crying with his head in his arms as he slumps over the marble balustrade and his tail curled around his ankles.)

PANEL 2: (Alastor gently sets a large platter of fresh beignets next to Lucifer's arm, and Lucifer glances up, looking miserable.) Alastor: (offscreen) You're not a bad father, you know.

PANEL 3: (Alastor strikes a jazz-hands pose as a canned laugh track emanates from his cane.) Alastor: Granted, YES you did fail spectacularly! You fail A LOT. But...

PANEL 4: (Closeup of the lower half of Lucifer's face as more tears fall down his cheeks.) Alastor: (offscreen) ...you're consistently, SINCERELY trying. And that is incredibly important.

PANEL 5: (closeup of Alastor's right eye in profile) Alastor: It's certainly more than my father ever did.

PANEL 6: (Alastor reaches over and places a hand on Lucifer's, which is still clutching at his upper arm. Though we can't see Lucifer's face, he's sitting a little straighter, looking up at Alastor.) Alastor: (offscreen) Or yours, for that matter.

END DESCRIPTION]

[ew-selfish-art]

Dp x Dc AU: Jazz Fenton, after years of fixing her brother’s injuries, becomes a Doctor with an inclination towards behavioral health and psychology- In order to make the difference she wants to see in the world she joins Dr. Leslie Thompkin’s practice. 

Jazz Fenton, M.D. has spent years of her life doing research, doing the hard work and the emotional labor, and finally, finally, she’s joining a practice she can feel 100% confident in. She’s goddamn good doctor and she wants to make the biggest impact that she can. 

Dr. Thompkins (who insists that she call her Leslie as they’re colleagues now), is a kind woman, sharp as a tack and keeps her practice open at odd hours to help the most unfortunate. It took some time for them to bond and trust to be built, but now Jazz is being allotted a few night shifts here and there. 

It’s incredible. Jazz gets to spend time with the kids who come in and really talk to them (in addition to getting them antibiotics, heating pads and pokemon themed bandaids) to help equip them with a few coping skills. Her passion for psychology never disappeared after all, but the expansive knowledge of how to heal the human body has made her find a sense of fulfillment like no other.

Having proven herself and worn Leslie down, Jazz now takes up about 1/3 of all the night shifts in the month. She’s hoping to get to 50/50 by the end of the year but she’s content with what she has. Danny keeps odd hours anyway so calling him after work on her walk home can happen any time of day and he will always answer enthusiastically. 

It’s a particularly busy night before he comes in. The Red Hood. 

He was known for being an ally to Leslie, despite being on contentious terms with the Bats, but Jazz had never asked directly. Never one to turn away a patient with bullet hole wounds, she hops into action to get his wounds cleaned, sewed up and gauze wrapped. She’s handing him a sheet (an Infographic! Dani made it with her! Graphic design is her passion!) on how to care for his wounds when he first seems to recognize that she’s not Leslie. 

“No, Of course not. I’m Dr. Fenton. I can’t blame you for not remembering but I did introduce myself as you bled in the entry way. You’re Red Hood, right?” 

“Hm. Didn’t realize the practice was expanding. Where can I find-” He grumbles before pushing her hand aside from where she had still been supporting his shoulder.

“Hold on there, mister. You’re going home, you’re following this infographic and you’re going to get some sleep.” 

“Lady you don’t know-” His voice modulated ton came across antagonistically. As if he was trying to intimidate her. Ha, Jazz rolls her eyes at the inclination.

“Who I’m talking to? Who I’m dealing with? You’re hilarious. I can eat you vigilante’s hero complexes for breakfast. Tell me who I’m calling to pick you up and then you can say thank you.” Jazz snaps at him. It really had been a long night but his whole dialogue thus far is making her a bit batty. 

“Oh really Doc? You know Leslie’s tough shit, and from what I can tell you’ve got nothing on her-” 

“Trying to make me feel insufficient when I just saved your life? That’s cute. I’m sure a lifetime of abandonment by both of your parental figures gave you that. I’m also sure that you inherited this desire to prove you’re not going to be dependent on anyone who wants to help from whoever got you dressing up in tights to fight crime in the first place. Again, I’d love to talk at length about how predictable you-” 

“Bwah- wait- I’m Predictable? You’re probably some nepobaby who had parents who told her she could have the world-” But Jazz cuts him off with hysterical laughter- he couldn’t be further from the truth. Her parents loved her, but nepotism? With what, the ghosts? If anything she got that from Danny, but he doesn’t need to know about her ghostly titles. 

“You’re just some guy who came back from the dead and made his trauma everyone else’s issue. So shut it. And tell me how I’m getting you home from this clinic.” She seethes though her voice stays devastatingly level with each word. 

Speechless for a moment, he eventually relents to Jazz that he’s already called for help on the comms but it will be hours before they can come for a pick up. The sun had already come up and the night had been over for most of them before Hood had walked into trouble. She groans and the realizes the time for herself and the empty clinic around them.

“Fine. My shift just ended anyway. I’ll get you home in one piece and I swear to all the ancients that you’d better follow the directions on the infographic.” 

And that’s how Jazz ended up calling her brother while supporting the weight of a grown ass man (who no longer wanted to talk to her) on her walk home. 

The next time Red Hood appears in her clinic, he’s brought a dozen roses in addition to the cut on his neck that definitely needs to be pressurized like ASAP. Did he stop for the flowers on his way to the clinic? He’s going to pass out from blood loss! She doesn’t even like roses!

[oopsorryagainagain]

Little stars ✨

[dimeadozencows]

This came to me in an early morning queer haze

Kissing my medics good morning (I am your husband heavy and I love you)

[hai-nae]

meant to post these sketches a few days ago? a week? but, well, life.

[knucklegagging]

So today sucked.

I did well. REally. Up until I had convinced myself I could stop myself w only having a couple of tortilla chips. Then of course somehow that created a binge. Had an extra bowl of veggie soup and with that another 1/3 cup rice.(dry weight) and by then I was already well over so why not throw a whopper’s sized “dollop” of sour cream on the soup and that’s easily another 120 calories. So then you’re sad and you’re fat and your stomach is all bloated from the carbs and no one likes you anyway so like why not keep going and self soothe with a spot of chocolate? No one is ever going to want you so you don’t have to be pretty.  So here I am, gargoyle hunched over the steam rising up out the porcelain tub,dripping wet with a sticky sweat that’s trapped magically underneath my flesh, caught between who I am and who I could be if I could just manage the simplest little spot of fucking self-discipline more days than none. And it’d be so easy to heave it out. It’s already crawling up my throat anyhow, cramming my hands down my throat isn’t even necessary, and Greg Doucette himself said that purging is better than keeping an extra thousand calories in. But what do I do? Like an idiot now is the moment I gussy up the gullet and pull my corset strings up to an erect position, forcing myself to take deep breaths instead of purge. Why? I’ve already failed with the binging, you’d think I’d be smart enough to let the excess come out. Is this the self-punishment? I can’t even tell anymore. Is it worse to force yourself to keep it in? Am I doing this in misery to say “fuck you bitch, wear your shame and work it off.” Cuz if I was kinder to myself maybe I wouldn’t let myself be uncomfortable and hold it all in. I’m making myself fat. I bet I’m gonna be all the ‘weigh’ up into 120 tomorrow. Why do I let myself get this fucked??

[beachdreams39]

This was my dinner on Saturday. It was 1,241 calories

Grouper with lemon dill sauce 🐟

Baked potato with sour cream and butter 🥔

Green beans

Really good but I wouldn’t go back there. Wasn’t worth the price 💸💸

[sir3n-s]

Italian Steve Harrington hcs because why not:

He was born in Italy (ovbisouly) but moved to hawkins when he was around 10 or 11.

He speaks fluent Italian, it's his first language, which is why he asks what certain words mean so much. He's still expanding his English vocabulary.

He always writes his notes in Italian, he was forced to stop writing in Italian at school but after he graduated he started again. Robin keeps trying to read his little notes but she doesn't know Italian yet. (He has a journal that's in Italian because he knows Robin keeps trying to read it)

He teaches Robin Italian because she wanted to learn. Mainly so she could understand what he mumbles.

When he's stressed, scared, or angry he'll start rambling/yelling in Italian. No one understands him but Eddie always gets him to calm down. Robin does too but for some reason Eddie does it the best. Unless he's arguing then he has to be reminded to speak English.

He's an amazing cook, everything he makes is good. Steve tries his best to introduce everyone to certain Italian dishes.

He has several of his grandma's old cook books.

During the holidays his parents force him to fly out to Italy to see the rest of his family. After the age of 13, his parents are already there waiting for him.

He insults people in Italian so they don't understand him. Dustin, Mike, and Robin are normally the victims.

Sometimes he'll just switch into Italian and has to be reminded to speak English.

He loved living in Italy but refuses to move back because all of his friends (family) that matter live in Hawkins.

[getgeeky]

Hungry?

[my-autism-adhd-blog]

Avoidant Restrictive Food Intake Disorder (ARFID)

Spectrum Sloth

[pinkd3mon]

Dedede at the end of revenge of the king

Day 4 of drawing random kirby shitpost for every day of October

[palpameme69]