#serve it with a slice of bread and a glass of milk

[secondbeatsongs]

new year, new food crime

I hate it when recipe bloggers tell you the entire rundown of their day before giving the recipe, so just to start off, I'm going to put this here:

3 cups of liquid (water + shrimp water) 3 packets unflavored gelatin 1 tbsp vegetable base (or a bouillon of some kind; that'd probably be fine) 1 large handful of shrimps (approx 20) 3 eggs, hard-boiled and sliced 1 small bag mixed frozen vegetables, thawed a gelatin mold or bowl with a capacity of 4 cups

now, looking at this ingredients list you might be asking, "hey SBS, what the fuck did you cook this time?" and to that I say: buckle up.

so I've been watching Arne & Carlos' videos for a bit, firstly because I was curious if they were gay (they seem to be), and secondly because I like their knitting patterns

but their channel isn't just knitting! they also cook together, and it's fun and chaotic, and one of the things they cooked…intrigued me.

I don't know how this dish is spelled. cabaret? kabaret? there are only a few recipes for it online, and most of those are not in english. but essentially, it is a Norwegian aspic with shrimp, vegetables, and hard-boiled egg in it.

what is aspic, you might ask? well, it's…I mean…it's meat jello. that's what it is. you cook meat for a while (some recipes say to use pig's feet, snout, etc), and it makes a gelatinous broth, which solidifies when it cools.

delightful!

however, I am not willing to make aspic from scratch for this, so I substituted it with unflavored gelatin packets. hooray!

(apparently in Norway, you can buy packets of instant aspic! but since you can't do that here, I looked up what ingredients are in instant aspic, and after putting them through google translate, decided "huh, seems like gelatin powder with some kind of bouillon", so that's how I ended up here)

this recipe isn't so much cooking as it is…construction. like sure, you heat up the gelatin, but after that it's pretty much just putting stuff together.

and apparently you can make this with pre-cooked or canned shrimp, but I only had the raw frozen kind, so I put them in a saucepan with just enough water to cover them, heated them until they were fully cooked, and then saved the water from the pan to mix in with the gelatin.

so, shrimpy water + enough water to make 3 cups of liquid, and then I mixed in vegetable base until it tasted…fine. (it didn't taste good, it just tasted…okay.)

then I heated up the liquid in the microwave (in a big 4-cup measuring cup), mixed in the three gelatin packets, and there you go! that's all of the cooking done.

now, for the assembly.

I put some of the shrimp all the way at the bottom of the jello mold, trying to arrange it so that it would look nice. I sliced the hard-boiled eggs, and put the prettiest slices of egg around the edges, sprinkling in some vegetables and pouring gelatin as I went.

…and then I gave up on being artistic, and just kinda lumped everything else in, and covered it with the gelatin mixture.

(unfortunately I didn't think to take pictures of the assembly portion of this, because I was multitasking at the time and got distracted, but you'll just have to trust me that it was a tolerable experience, and didn't look very interesting)

after that I chucked it into the fridge (gently), and left it alone while I streamed with makerrcat for a bit, stayed up way too late, and then passed out in a dramatic fashion.

13-ish hours later, I rescued it from its frigid prison.

hmmm

stare into the murky depths with me for a moment. look at this…nightmarish placid soup. this motionless broth.

one of my egg slices definitely didn't get covered all the way. 

ah, well.

to unmold this monstrosity, I put it in a bowl of hot water for a minute or so, until it seemed like it could pull away from the edges. it really didn't take much, so if you (god forbid) try this yourself, keep an eye on it. gelatin melts fast.

then I put a plate over the jello mold, and flipped it over.

after a few tense seconds, it released from the mold with a slimy kthnk sound.

carefully. nervously. I lifted the mold.

and then I let out an involuntary "oh!" because…

…it's kind of…eerily beautiful?

like in a horrifying sort of eldritch way, it looks…lovely

vegetables and shrimp and eggs, suspended not just in space but in time, preserved and surrounded by a gelatinous cocoon…

I just like staring at it, okay! I just think it looks cool! so here's another picture of it from the side:

the egg slices…the little bits of yolk…enchanting

it definitely smells like food. but it's unclear what kind. vaguely shrimp-vegetable-egg, but muddled

let's cut into it

oh. oh god. it made kind of a…squelch? when I cut it?

hold on, you have to experience this for yourselves

god. deeply unsettling.

now, seeing what the inside is like is kind of interesting! there are places where the gelatin has sort of splintered apart from being cut, and there are gaps where pieces of vegetable have fallen out.

but...how does it taste?

...

fuck.

I really like it

this bizarre combination of textures is weirdly satisfying! the squish of the egg and the gelatin, the slight crunch of the vegetables and shrimp, it's just…good?

the gelatin itself just tastes vaguely of broth, but I don't mind it! I don't know if I would eat it by itself, but with the shrimp, egg, and veggies, it's perfectly okay!

the shrimp, egg, and vegetables of course just taste (respectively) like shrimp, egg, and vegetables, but that's...fine? I like all of these things, so this is pretty enjoyable!

so, some of the recipes I managed to find mention serving it with sort of a mayo-mustard mix, so obviously I have to try that

this...helps? like, it tastes really pleasant?

not that it was bad before, but it remains an enjoyable experience!

and a video that I saw (but could not understand) seemed to show it served on a piece of bread, again with the mayo-mustard.

this is also fine! I enjoy this too! I don't feel like it needs the bread, but it's all right!

this is bizarre.

I think most people would probably hate this. it's got the look of a 1960s party food (which is probably what it is), and "meat jello" isn't a texture that modern society regularly enjoys, but…I love it.

I actually love this.

I kind of understand now why people call dishes like this a "jello salad", because…I mean, I'm eating it, and my brain is saying, "yup. this is a salad" and I have no fucking idea why, but this right here? salad. for sure.

cold, wet salad.

damp, even.

so like...is this objectively good food? probably not.

but is it fun to eat? I think so. 

it's refreshing, somehow. it's light, but also more filling than I expected it to be. I have no idea how much would be considered a reasonable serving, but I intend to figure it out as I go along.

so I'm not saying "go make this!" because although this combination of textures plays well with my brain in particular, I don't think that would be the case for everybody.

but I will be eating the rest of this.

weirdly? weirdly, it's just good.

-

an edit, a few days later:

I have done it. I have consumed the entire thing. and I enjoyed every bite of it.

in fact, I plan on making it again! probably more than once!

food crime? no. food…

(pauses to look up what the opposite of "crime" is)

…food blessing. food virtue. food achievement! food…benevolence.

this is what cabaret is.

at least, that's what it is to me.

(create and consume at your own risk.)

[tastesoftamriel]

I hate hot food. For many reasons. I know a lot of Argonian meals are served cool/cold, but do the other races have meals intended to be the same way?

While not particularly common in some Provinces, chilled dishes can be found across Tamriel and are the perfect refreshment when hot food feels a little too weighty.

Altmer

Probably the Tamrielic masters of cold dishes, the High Elves are probably best known for their cold raw seafood dishes. Fresh fish, prawns, squid, octopus, sea urchin, and much more are sliced with a deft hand and served with wasabi and saltrice sauce. Sometimes, the seafood is placed atop rice and wrapped with a thin slice of nori to hold it together. While the idea of eating cold raw fish may not appeal to many, it's one of my favourite foods in Tamriel.

Argonians

Keeping clay or metal vessels submerged in water is an age-old Argonian technique of keeping their food cool, which is an absolute must in the hot and muggy climate of Black Marsh. Cold swamp jelly and seafood salad topped with grilled prawns and chilled marinated snails is a customary dish offered to visitors, and it's delightfully refreshing! The swamp jelly doesn't taste of much, but its soft, jelly-like texture complements the crunch of the seaweed.

Bosmer

Cold food isn't much of a thing for the Wood Elves, but one exception jumps to mind: the humble cottage cheese dip. Cottage cheese made from timber mammoth milk is aged in caves for two days, seasoned, and kept chilled. The dip is served cold with dried cured meats to dip with. It's not terribly exciting, but there's nothing quite as satisfying as eating meat and cheese in one bite!

Bretons

Chilled soufflés are all the rage in High Rock, and require lots of patience (and swearing) to master. Both sweet and savoury soufflés are served in this manner, from orange liqueur to parmesan and rosemary. My personal favourite is the chilled chili chocolate soufflé from the Rosy Lion in Daggerfall, part of their seasonal menu. The combination of rich dark cocoa with a touch of Alik'r spices is out of Nirn!

Dunmer

Chilled foods aren't an integral part of Dunmeri gastronomic culture, but certain Houses, namely the Telvanni, Hlaalu, and Redorans, do enjoy them. A Telvanni specialty is a cold chicken salad, where the chicken is marinated overnight in a blend of matcha, fire fern, saltrice sauce, and secret spices. It grilled and shredded, and served cold with hackle-lo leaves and gold kanet seeds atop steamed saltrice. However, don't let appearances fool you; any Telvanni with cold chicken salad leftovers can probably be found gobbling it at midnight straight from the cold cellar.

Imperials

The Gold Coast is famous for its chilled seafood soup, made with a creamy tomato and fish stock base, and loaded with all manner of fish and shellfish. While the hot variant from Bruma is more popular in colder climes, the cold seafood soup is a delightfully refreshing meal when beating the summer heat, especially when served with a mojito on the side.

Khajiit

If there's an excuse to make a food cold, the Khajiit will find it, and for good reason: the Deadlands-like heat of Elsweyr. Cold vegetable curries are a notable mention. Three or four small bowls of different curries, from mild okra to spicy potato, are served with moon sugar, saffron rice or tandoor flatbreads, and are meant to be eaten with your hands. I must say, though, that there's a rather jarring contrast between the cold curry and the searing heat you get from biting into a bird's eye chili.

Nords

Unlike the Khajiit, Nords look for any excuse to make food hot, with a couple of exceptions. Cold smoked salmon, mudcrab, or trout with dark rye bread is one of them. This rustic lunch dish is served with chilled horseradish cream, goat cheese, and fish roe topping, and is the perfect meal for when you want something filling that won't send you straight to sleep.

Orcs

Glass noodle salad is an Orcish delicacy said to have originated in Wrothgar in the early Second Era. The noodles, made from sweet potato starch, are thick and chewy, and are served chilled. To turn it into a salad, simply throw in some cold shredded daikon radish and carrots, sweet frost mirriam vinegar, peas, cold rare beef tongue slices, and fried chorizo. Easy and delicious, while packing lots of flavour!

Redguards

Cold foods are a welcome treat in Hammerfell, where the searing heat can be just as unbearable as Elsweyr's. Cold, pulled goat in a chilled tomato and harissa-based stew is eaten as a soup, and is a filling meal when mixed with bulgur or cous-cous. While it may sound and look a little like last night's disappointing leftovers, one bite of this on a Midyear day in the Alik'r will have you moaning with delight.

[squadron-of-damned]

What is cheese in your country eaten with and how does it taste?

Usually here is cheese slapped on bread and eaten like that, or grated on pasta.

The "base" cheese which most people buy and to which they compare the others is Gouda. Gouda is mild of taste, inoffensive, but also here you won't get Gouda that will blow yours socks off. It is cheap for cheese. A cheaper alternative is Edam. Edam is boring, it tastes like wet milk fat. Neither Gouda nor Edam are Czech cheeses, but they are the most commonly bought. Both are hard cheeses.

Probably the most commonly bought Czech cheese is Hermelín. It is an imitation of Camembert, the name actually means "ermin stole" and it comes from the white mould coating. It is soft and a little tangy, a good and well aged Hermelín will have a bit tougher core. In my opinion it is somewhat more flavourful than Camembert, but it is not so soft. It is good for charcuterie boards, can be served marinated in oil with onion and usually some herbs and pepper (that is "pickled"), or covered in breadcrumbs and deep fried like a schnitzel and then served with usually fries and cranberry sauce/marmalade. You can, of course, also cut it in slices and slap it on the bread, but that is incredibly barbaric. Everyone here does it. Hermelín pairs well with white wine, but pickled/marinated is a beer thing.

What I see often in stores but not often bought, save for my grandma, is Blaťácké zlato ("quag gold"). It is a knock off of Bel Paese. It is a bit tart, soft, kinda feels like eraser in your mouth. It is boring. It can be made interesting by inserts, for example green pepper or walnuts. It is recommended to accompany white wines, I suppose to make you appreciate that you have something besides the cheese. If you leave it long enough next to unpacked Hermelín (or Camembert), it will adopt the mould and in a week or two you'll have a new Hermelín piece.

Niva ("floodplain") is a cheese that people either love or hate, very rarely they are indifferent. It is an imitation of Roquefort, but it is made out of cow milk instead of sheep, so it feels less aggressive if you grew up on cow milk (most people have). It is a semi-hard crumbly cheese, if it is really aged it becomes less crumbly and more spreadable, like butter. It has blue-green mould through it, and it tastes quite salty and mould-spicy. It is an affordable bluegreen mould cheese and it doesn't have any strong (or weak) odour, which for a lot of people is a plus. a thing you might want to slap on quatro formaggi pizza. I like grilled cheese including niva. I am not aware of niva being paired with any specific drink. I usually am plain evil and accompany it with milky tea and/or cacao to remind my taste buds that the life could be worse.

Probably the best known national phenomenon is olomoucké tvarůžky, sometimes also olomoucké syrečky (Olomouc curd cheese). It is a ripened soft cheese, very yellow. It has a pungent taste and smell. It is supposedly used in regional kitchen, but I cannot imagine how or why, because increasing the temperature of this cheese warrants a biohazard warning, or so the joke goes. They do taste better when you let them warm up, though, the taste blooms out into fullness. Do nto eat them straight out of the fridge. Some households have special glass (or plastic) covers and plates to put syrečky on where they can warm up while remaining covered. You usually don't lose syrečky for log, you can sniff them out. Tvarůžky are usually paired with beer.

[starryficsfinishwen]

[pgr] heartbeat ⋄ hyperreal lee oneshot

hell gets lost inside this heaven we've made

I have my end of the bargain. Hyperreal Lee just corrupts me so m u c h

pair: hyperreal lee x f!commandant

contents: soft!hyperreal lee, a bit suggestive towards the end, also soft kind of angst, we're back on earth boiz, imagine the virus is gone and we live with him and the other constructs!!!, there's a small twist at the end, don't bother it~

words: 2,375

It started as a saintly devotion. One that persisted until the end of time.

A small prayer. A soft whisper. An eager longing. For a world without worries, for a world where no one suffered. Once upon a time, there was an era where the gods died and man was left defenseless in the face of death—until they learned how to rebuild their empires to fight against them just for survival.

Once upon a time, it was an era of corrupted versus humankind. But now...

Gentle sunlight would kiss your skin. The smell of dandelions and bacon would wake your mornings. You have a soft bed, a comfortable and cozy room, and the light of day.

A blissful kind of reality—one akin to devotion.

❝[Name]?❞ a dawdled out voice called out nearby. Your feet, accustomed to the softness of the floor instead of a metal one, drag along the path and you started to make your way to the other side of the door.

As you open it, a brooding figure looms over the other end. You come face to face with the dog tag hung on his chest—a proud memorabilia of your victory.

❝[Name], why are you already out of bed?❞ You trail your eyes down to see him holding a tray of your breakfast, made for two.

❝You called my name,❞ sleepily, you answered, a yawn cutting you off midway, ❝I thought you need anything.❞

❝It's okay, I was wondering if you were awake.❞ The softness laced in his voice filled your heart with an unexplainable warmth. In kindness, you reached out to touch his hand, gently pulling him to the bed.

❝Lee,❞ you giggle as he carefully held your food in his hands, ❝come on, we should eat. I'm starving!❞

His laugh mirrored your own. Sitting at the other end of the bed, he laid out what he intended to serve: two plates of a sunny side-up egg and a scrambled one, three bacon strips on each plate, a toast of bread on each side, and a glass of milk and coffee. Lee had designed it simply the way you liked it; you didn't mind though, you liked whatever he made for you.

❝This sunny-side up egg is yours,❞ he said as he placed the plate with the mentioned type of egg, ❝cooked the way you told me.❞

❝Thank you, but why does yours look good,❞ you pouted, eyeing the delicious scrambled egg on his plate, ❝I want to taste.❞

❝They're still eggs,❞ Lee chuckled, ❝there's no difference to it.❞

Childishly, you opened your mouth and formed a letter "O", never breaking eye contact from the man. He raised an eyebrow, clearly amused with your actions.

❝[Name], what are you doing?❞

❝Ah,❞ you motioned to your open mouth and to his egg, ❝Ah-ah!❞

Lee shook his head. Carefully slicing out a piece using his spoon, he guided it to your mouth. But before it reached your lips, he swerved it to the direction of his own mouth. Bewildered, you let out a gasp of surprise before covering your mouth.

❝How dare you!❞

❝You were too slow.❞

You playfully shoved his shoulder as you laughed, your own mirroring him. After a few more spoonful, he decided to let you taste his other dish.

❝Open your mouth wider, [name]. This will go to waste if you don't.❞

❝What if I don't want to?❞

His thumb was holding your lip to open them, hand supporting your jaw. Warm radiates all over your face as he continued to look into your eyes, his other hand steadily guiding the spoonful of food to your mouth.

❝Then you won't taste it.❞ He smiled before placing the spoon on your tongue.

❝You're mean,❞ you say as you bunch on the food he had given you, the warmth that bubbled earlier in your chest bubbling once again.

❝I did let you taste mine, hm?❞ Wordlessly, he reached out again to cup your chin, thumb grazing the corner of your mouth ever so gently, ❝don't be too greedy and eat slowly.❞

Your nose crinkled at the contact. A part of you refrained to bite his thumb playfully, but your heart—it was beating too fast.

Lee handed you his glass of milk, silver gloves grasping the cup. ❝do you like your food?❞

A smile graced your lips unnoticed. Taking a sip from the glass, you nodded, aware of his goodness, ❝Of course.❞

The milk was warm.

It was a sunny day.

A vase full of dandelions. A lingering scent of cinnamon. An echo of laughter among the hallways.

The house was a home full of various scents. Two people that lived lush green and brimming with wildflowers. Under the sun, they had nothing to lose. Under the sun, all they had was each other.

You yawned as you swept the last dust outside. The morning barely started but the sun was already lulling you to sleep.

❝All done?❞ Lee's voice echoed from the other room. Turning your head, he emerged with a small robot in hand—a new handiwork.

❝Mhm, are you done tinkering your new work?❞

❝Barely. I've been asking parts from Karenina since last week, but she's still not responding.❞

You walked to his direction, attention already caught by the small toy. ❝It looks cute.❞

❝I try to make it look cute. So far, it's giving me problems here and there.❞

Lightly, you trace the outline of the toy, ❝mm...who commissioned you this time?❞

Lee went silent. You dragged your fingers to the outline of his hand, the silver rim cool in your touch. ❝another from Babylonia?❞

❝...would say something like that,❞ he chuckled nervously, ❝but at the same time, no.❞

Lee may be talented in making things work, but he was bad at lying. But still, you laughed and patted his hand, ❝okay, okay, I won't pry.❞

He breathed out a sigh of relief, but was caught off guard when you reached out to squeeze his cheeks. A loud cry escaped his lips and you bolted into a run around the hallway.

❝[Name]!!❞

Your laughter resonated along the hallway.

It was a cool afternoon.

A picnic. A shady tree. An afternoon of living.

The glare of the sun was unkind, but the wind granted you both a clear sky. Under the ruffles of your sundress, the wild playfully blew, but Lee was a gentleman—he didn't look down; only held you by your waist as you walked to the spot under the tree.

❝I guess your weather forecast has been accurate.❞ You said as you laid out the blanket, ❝it's too windy today though.❞

❝I've still yet to adjust it to Earth's new ecosystem.❞ He sighed, placing the basket down, ❝but I'm glad it's accurate still.❞

❝You sound really cute when you talk about that stuff.❞

A small blush crept its way to Lee's face, ❝it's the only thing I'm good at.❞

You propped yourself to the blanket, patting the empty space beside you. Without a word, he slipped to your side. You smiled at your comrade—gently patting his cheek. ❝You're good with a lot of things, Lee.❞

❝Yeah, you think?❞

Your mind wandered for a moment, before opening your mouth to speak. ❝You make all these robots for people. They love it.❞

❝That's my specialty—❞

❝—hold on, I'm not done.❞

Reaching out to the sky, the light of the afternoon spilled through the foliage of trees. In your hand danced the sun—the very heat that kissed your palms and skin when morning comes and when the afternoon sets. ❝Lee is...when I can't hold the sun, I can hold him instead.❞

Curiously, he mimicked your actions. You hadn't realized how close you were to his body when one side of yours had been leaning to him, his other free hand holding you by the waist. Without hesitation, you let your pinky brush his thumb, the small action making you breathe out a satisfied sigh.

❝I never would have thought we could live like this on Earth.❞ You confess as a whisper, heart drumming wild in your chest.

❝Mm...yes. So did I.❞ In kind, his thumb carefully wrapped your pinky.

The sunlight never burned in your hands but his touch felt like walking through the sun's core. Oh, how heavenly did it feel when he took your hand and enclosed it with his own. Taking it to his mouth, a small kiss on top of your own. Lee never broke eye contact as he continued to place the back of your hand to his lips.

❝Would you mind,❞ he whispered in your palm as the wind passed by, ❝would you mind if we can stay like this forever?❞

You did not need to answer. Your presence was already the response. But you smiled anyway.

❝Yes, Lee.❞

For a moment, you could hear the skip in his heart if it were a speaker. You basked in that moment.

❝I will stay with you forever.❞

He was warm.

It ended with an unwavering devotion.

A loud prayer. An honest confession. A promise for a lifetime.

You are in your bed, tangled with Lee as your breaths mingled in the air, the orange hues outside indicating the setting sun. The bed creaked with your movements, but you didn't care—all you could focus was how close he held you in his arms as you sat on his lap, how his breath seemed to send your thoughts into overdrive as he kissed your face, how his incessant hands ignited anywhere he touched.

You lived in the moment, the same way he did.

❝Lee,❞ you said his name like a prayer, and he only answered in soft breaths. He was a man starved for your affection, and you could not help but succumb to him.

No words spoke as he held you tightly in his arms, seemingly afraid to let go. You touched his shoulder, expecting the metal frame, but—

❝is something wrong?❞ his voice was laced with uncertainty, lips detached from your neck.

You held your hold over his shoulder, before squeezing it.

❝Do I seem different?❞ He spoke.

You shook your head, sighing. ❝I am just thinking.❞

Everything seemed to crash all over you at once; the war, the corrupted, Babylonia, and the other constructs under your care. You felt the threat of your tears spilling from your eyes, but Lee looked back. Using his thumb, he caressed cheek.

❝You seem upset.❞ He whispered. He shifted his hold to the nape of your neck, pulling to his direction until both of your foreheads touched.

❝[Name],❞ he closed his eyes, the tremble of his voice making it harder for you to hold your tears. ❝what are you thinking?❞

Unconsciously, you cupped his cheek, before reaching out to hold the dog tag he wore all this time. You brought it to your lips, muttering something like a prayer, before leaving a kiss.

❝All this time, you fought a war for humans, for me.❞ Your other hand slipped down to where his heart was—❝does it hurt?❞

Constructs were pawns and tools of humans; they would fight for them, bleed for them, and even die for them. The brains of the ones who created the concept was extraordinary yet far too selfish—all for man to do was to survive, no matter who they stepped along the way.

You witnessed how many times your constructs would die for you, yet all you could do was watch from the sidelines. You watched Lee save you countless of times—the memory of his sacrifice to keep you alive was still fresh.

❝Why think of that, [name]?❞ He whispered, a kiss on your cheekbone, ❝of course, it once hurt. But not anymore.❞

❝You were the one who's always there for me, but I could never give back to you.❞

Contructs died the day their body was on the operation table and they rebuilt themselves as another person. You knew that. Yet the amount of times Lee—your Lee—would willingly give his life for you was uncountable.

Lee didn't speak. Instead, he held you tighter. ❝Oh, [name],❞

Wordlessly, both of his hands were now on your cheeks. Your hand that was hovered over his chest was warm—the thrumming of his heartbeat was louder than you've ever heard, that you felt it resonate all over your body; from the tip of your ears to the curl of your toes.

❝You being here is enough for me.❞ He placed a kiss to your forehead, ❝the war is over, we can live the way you wanted.❞ a kiss on your eyelids, ❝a house that is never cold like Babylonia,❞ a kiss on your cheekbone, ❝a garden full of vegetables and flowers we love,❞ a kiss to your jaw, ❝a home where we could spend all the days of your life full of love.❞

As a final answer, he kissed you—full of honesty, full of love, that your tears started to pour.

❝I devoted myself to you the day I was in your care, commandant. No matter where you go, I'd always follow.❞

He whispered once more, ❝you make me feel human.❞

❝Morial,❞ you spoke his real name, and for once, you felt him shiver in your touch. ❝how...❞

Hell got lost inside the heaven you've made.

❝Say my name, [name].❞

A swell of pride and warmth filled your chest, his lips touching yours as you called him again, ❝Morial.❞

Again and again, you called his name. He called yours, too. In a flurry of warmth under the fading light of the sun, you found yourself in his embrace.

A saintly devotion. One that presisted even until the end of time.

A loud beep rung out.

A world without corrupted, a world that was finally happy.

Another beep.

How beautiful it must be.

Beep.

M.I.N.D. deviation interferred. Simulation complete.

In the middle of a dark room. A figure sitting on a chair took off his gear.

A dog tag chain grasped in his hand. A solemn prayer lulling at the back of his head.

A Construct named Lee was there. But his commandant was not. There was a house, but it was Babylonia.

There was world left for humans at all.

It started as a saintly kind of devotion. One that persisted even until the end of time.

[mylevisdontfitanymore]

Bucky fattened by a frat as a mascot of some kind? Starts pretty big when he’s a freshman, already pushing 400 — come what would have been his final year and it takes a couple bros to turn him over to fuck. Ah I dunno just free use immobile blob Bucky who’s an absolute cockslut, he’ll do anything so long as he gets as much food as he wants? Pledges have to attend to him 24/7, that includes his bi-hourly funnel feeding, a litre or so of shake every other hour?

Anyway, maybe Steve was his first attendant? Both freshman, Steve was made to feed him and please him and serve him, and now he’s head of the frat or however they work.

Anyway there’s the rambling done waddaya think?

You should check out "teamwork" by caloriebomb!!

I keep, in particular, thinking about this part:

“Steve made this coffeecake just for the team,” Clint said, and levered another vast slice onto Bucky's plate. “You can't make him feel bad by not eating it.” “I'm fucking full,” Bucky said. “I can barely breathe.” But of course, he ate it. And he ate more bacon, too, and let them give him the last chocolate chip muffin, and he drank another glass of milk, and ate another slice of heavily-buttered bread, and, to hell with it, finished off the rest of the bacon entirely. He was moaning a little by the time he was done, shameless in his discomfort, his belly almost hard to the touch and so heavy he felt pinned down by it. “For good luck,” Sam said, and rubbed his belly, and then Clint followed suite, and suddenly Bucky was inundated with a line of football players all trying to get their hands on his swollen gut, and Thor was shouting, “Our good luck charm! Our good luck Buck!” and honestly it felt too good to protest, and he was so stuffed he could barely speak anyway, so he just sat there and let it happen, weighed down by his enormous breakfast and the unbendable dome of his throbbing tummy.

I do, really, really love this idea, though. I keep picturing one of those big snorlax plushies with the huge tummies and short little legs.

Like, c'mon, that is Bucky.

Unbeta'd, you know how it is, warning for Bucky-centric belly kink filth. Implied stucky? Stuffing, funnel feeding, immobility, alcohol consumption, intox kink, slight come inflation, etc.

Or, that's what Bucky turns into after he's hazed and then pledges, and is officially a member of his frat 👀

He absolutely is a big boy going in, but after he's been in for a few years, nearing the end of his college days, he's packed on more than the freshman 15, by far.

After being constantly stuffed and fed and fucked by his bros, he's unbelievably round. So round that his stomach floods between his far spread thick thighs, forcing them apart, and it rests on top of those thick, heavy thighs, leaving him without the ability to stand without help. Really, he can hardly maneuver around it - his belly, that is. It's so heavy. It's always so full. Hell, he can't get his fucking arms around it now! He can't shut his legs, either. Not that that matters when his frat bros are always trying to get them wider, anyhow, using his hole when they can manage to roll Bucky over onto his enormous gut, or just fucking any of his many, many rolls.

He's soft and irresistible all over.

Fat on fat on fat.

Stacking up.

He's overflowing with fat. He's impossibly fat. So much so that when his bros try their best to use their gym-honed muscles - biceps flexing - to lift his massive belly, they sweat and grunt but simply can't always squeeze their arms in between his rolls enough to find his cock. It's buried. Not that Bucky's cock matters to him much now... he gets more than enough pleasure without a finger laid on him there. There's enough pressure and friction from his own fat. He can grind against himself. And his belly is more than sensitive enough. Always bloated tight and packed even fuller. Just touching his gut is enough to make him come.

Whenever the guys can't roll him over - either because there's not enough helping hands around the house at the time, or Bucky is too full to flip, heavier than usual and making sounds like a beached whale, protesting, lest he throw up - they end up fucking all his excess fat. They fuck his love handles and stacking up sides. Plush. They fuck his moobs. Overflowing and flabby and deliciously sensitive, especially those stretched out, hard nipples. They fuck where his belly flops onto his thick, spilled-out thigh. They fuck his belly. They fuck his beanbag like belly.

Heavy.

Thick.

Blubber that rolls like waves when they get going, really into fucking their mascot, and the thrusts push out burps and groans and heavy, gasping breaths from Bucky. He can't handle it. It feels almost as good as being fucked in his hole. He loves having his belly fucked, even if it presses on his stuffed stomach, walking the line of being too much. Pleasure that almost hurts.

Bucky loves it, though.

Even when he's about to pop, bursting at the seams, unable to stifle the hiccups and burps and deep groans bubbling up from his sloshing tummy with how hard he's being jostled, fucked and toyed with however his bros want. Maybe especially then.

Or, no, the best is when they're all home after a party. When the party upstairs has wound down and all his bros are drunk, not yet passing out or fully blackout drunk, but when they're lose enough that their rougher sides come out. Then, they're rowdy from the pounding music, drinks, and crowded, sweaty bodies, and they all seem to share a single thought, needing to use him; needing to fill him; needing to lavish their lucky and greedy mascot with attention after leaving him alone in the basement for the party. Their dirty little secret. Their sweating, panting, growing mascot.

If Bucky's any mascot, he's a pig.

A big, fat pig.

A pig who's always shoveling food into his mouth with his fat hands, his fat chin doubling and thick throat bobbing with each massive mouthful. Never satisfied.

They're going to satisfy him...

After a party, they're all always hard, barely contained in their jeans and gym shorts - unashamedly obvious. Their faces are flushed, eyes hungry, and lips loose and wet. Beer on their breath. Crowding around him. Everyone is aching to touch. He's so soft. So big. So heavy. So fat.

Now, the fraternity make sure to buy more beer and snacks than a party could ever take down for the sole purpose of feeding their pet pig afterward. They know where they always end up.

Every. single. time.

They tear apart the whole house for Bucky. Not just demolishing the party supplies. Everything. Everything is fair game. They feed him chips and dips and kegs of beer and pizza and all that junk. And then...

And then, they break out the protein powders and blenders and make shake after shake after shake for Bucky.

Weight gain shakes.

None of the protein is going to turn into anything but fat. Bucky doesn't move. Bucky is just a ball.

Bucky is a mascot, a pet - a fun, fat, soft toy for them to use. They'll be fucking him sloppy and messy, after a party, and will forget to keep feeding him. Then. That's what Bucky moans for. He doesn't want to come. No. He wants more.

More food.

God.

More.

He begs so much, so greedy, that they have to feed him to shut him up. And when they do run out of things to feed him, there's nothing to be done but shoving their dicks down his throat and coming, filling him up that way, if he's just so desperate to be full.

He is.

He's so desperate to be full.

And every time he is full, he's not just full. He's overfull. Meaning... next time, he'll be able to take just that much more, ever-increasing his huge stomach capacity 🥵

[aching-tummies]

As I lift the glass of tea to your lips I can tell your tummy is extremely bloated and full. Even still your throat aches so much you need the tea to feel any relief. Drink up babe you'll feel better soon. Every gulp fills your tummy a little more until your drink the last sip. I know your full but we still have half a teapot to go

I'm so, so, so sorry for the long wait. I adore this ask and I've loved it since I received it and have been trying to craft a response to do it justice for weeks. Thank you so, so much. You have no idea how much this post has sustained me through some busy times.

I think this was sent in as a response to the various sickness prompts? One and Two?

Sidenote...as I was finishing this response up and putting it together to post, my belly is literally giving off liquidy gurgles as though in response. As I mentioned in my "Appreciation Post and News" post, life has been kicking my butt lately. More stress, busy-busy, and various other factors have created the perfect environment for an oldie--stressy, upset tummy. I spent all day with my stomach feeling 'off'. I ate late-night instant noodles last night--that were undercooked 'cuz the water I used wasn't quite hot enough, but I was too tired to fix it at 2AM. So I woke up with an already upset tummy from the improperly prepared cup-noodle fermenting in my belly for the three hours or so that I slept. Got up and ran errands. I skipped breakfast but could feel hunger budding and pushing against the indigestion plaguing my belly. I opted for a 2-item box with fried rice from a food court 'cuz they were the only establishment up and running in the mall that was serving hot, non-burger, food. My belly was a bit unsettled at the strange food 'cuz I usually don't eat at those places. After that, I tried walking off the upset...which helped a little...until relatives decided to drag us to an impromptu 'dim sum' experience about three hours into my walk. For those that don't know, dim-sum can get pretty oily. I drank at least a full tea pot's worth of tea on my own, trying to avoid eating more oily food while still making it look like I was part of the dining experience. We got some milk tea boba from a place that always upsets my tummy (I think it's the dairy they use) and at home I ate a lot of watermelon because we needed to make space in the fridge for leftovers from the dim sum. My stomach feels all sloshy and I guess the oily fare is interacting with the tea and watermelon to further upset the works. My stomach hasn't stopped rumbling and letting out really wet gurgles since I sat down to write this.

Anyway...enough with the tangent--the response to this lovely ask is under the cut. Sorry, I feel like it's a bit too short, but I don't know where I could go from here.

I groan as I swallow convulsively around a wet belch. My belly burbles angrily and I close my eyes at the shiver-like sensations rippling through my liquid-filled belly. I turn away from the still-steaming mug of tea you're holding to my lips, shaking my head and cursing the surge of too-warm liquid lapping up my esophagus at the movement.

“C'mon. Drink up, babe. I know your throat hurts--you'll feel better soon, but you need to drink more to get there.”

I shake my head again, cradling my belly with both of my hands as it churns and sloshes uncomfortably within me. I feel like an over-filled water-balloon on the verge of rupturing. My belly is visibly distended. It doesn't look like much, but I've spent the last six days with a reduced appetite due to sickness and have not kept up with meals in those six days. As sick as the idea of eating anything makes me feel, I lament the fact that there's nothing substantial in my belly. Even a humble slice of bread would probably have soaked up a little of what feels like litres upon litres of broth and tea my sickly form is straining to contain.

“C'mon, babe. Down the hatch!” You urge, tipping the mug against my lips.

My belly lets out a watery burble as I swallow the torrent of tea, groaning as the queasiness and nausea increase tenfold with the last three gulps. I swear, I can feel my stomach swell, the stretch growing tighter right around my ribs. A steak crammed into a sausage-casing—that's how my stomach-organ feels at the moment—a large, tender, bloated piece of viscera that's rapidly outgrowing its surroundings.

“Nnngh...n-no more...oooh...urrrp...t-too full...” I wince as I try to form audible words against my sore throat. I bring a hand up to rub at my throat as my other one braces against the sloshing of my churning tummy. I don't want to feel like an overfilled balloon anymore, but I also don't want to puke. Even watered-down, there's still stomach-acid in the mess and the idea of it burning my irritated throat on the way out fills me with dread.

I paw at your arm as I see you lean forward on the couch, getting up to refill the mug, no doubt. I shake my head frantically, hoping you'll get the message. I swallow back against an extremely wet hiccup and cradle my belly again.

“I know you're full, but we're only halfway through the tea. You gotta keep your fluids up.” You admonish, running your fingers through my hair as you pass on your way to the kitchen.

My stomach gurgles loudly—a pitiful sound as it turns over itself. I knead gently into it, willing the liquid to shift somehow, to leave my stomach and maybe saturate my intestines instead of painfully inflating my stomach-organ. I stopped producing meaningful belches about two mugs ago. What's been coming up since has been more like attempts at a dam breaking than actual belches. There's not really much room for air pockets as you've thoroughly saturated my insides with plenty of liquid.

[thelastspeecher]

@elishevart and I were discussing my Accidental Abduction AU and came up with the idea of Stan getting a transplant of an alien organ in that AU. I made a couple references to some ideas I had for the scenario that I was going to keep close to my chest to be used in a write of some sort. Well, here is that write!

(Timeline-wise, this ficlet takes place after this one.)

——————————————————————————————

              Ford stared at the breakfast his alien sister-in-law, Angie, had laid out for him.  It consisted of three slices of what appeared to be a small loaf of dark red bread with blue spots, a jar of a bright teal jelly, and a glass of milk.  Deciding to start with the most familiar item, Ford took a long drink of the glass of milk.  Immediately, he gagged.  It wasn’t milk.  It had the consistency of a high-pulp orange juice and the flavor of salted butterscotch.

              “Oh, dear,” Angie said.  She was helping her twin daughters, Danny and Daisy, get ready for school in the adjacent living room, and had heard Ford’s negative reaction.  “Do you not like it?”

              “No, it’s not that,” Ford said quickly, trying to avoid offending her.  He took a tentative sip of the drink.  Now that he knew what to expect, it was actually quite pleasant.  “It just looked like something on Earth that is quite different in both taste and texture.  I was merely shocked by the inconsistency.”

              “Oh, okay.  Good.  Let me know if you dislike any of your food.”

              “I will.”

              I will not.

              “What is it, if you don’t mind me asking?”

              “Juice.”

              “From what sort of plant?” Ford asked.

              “I could tell you, but you wouldn’t be able to pronounce it,” Angie said idly.

              “Ah.  I see.”  Ford tentatively picked up a slice of bread, spread it with the teal jelly, and took a bite.  To his surprise and relief, it tasted like a toasted cinnamon raisin bagel with a generic berry spread.  Stan wandered into the kitchen, shirtless.

              “Daddy, put clothes on!” Danny said fiercely.  Stan raised an eyebrow at his daughter.

              “Or what?”

              “They won’t let you go to work!”

              “Nah, I’ll just tell ‘em it’s a human holiday or something,” Stan said dismissively.  Danny and Daisy giggled.  Stan looked over at Ford.  “Do you want some coffee, Poindexter?”

              “Is it actual coffee or just this planet’s equivalent?” Ford asked warily.

              “Actual coffee.”

              “…How?”

              “Turns out, it’s not just humans that like coffee.  Aliens do, too.”  Stan grabbed a bag from a cupboard, poured the contents into an object that looked like a kettle, and pressed a button on the kettle.  “The crashed ship you were exploring that got you sent here?  It was probably part of a mission a while back to collect valuable resources from uncontacted planets, like coffee from Earth.” 

              “I’ll take a cup, then.”

              “Good, because I already set it up to make two servings, and Angie doesn’t drink it.”  Stan paused.  “Uh, a quick warning, though.  They got coffee plants to grow here, but they aren’t exactly like on Earth.  The coffee here tastes a bit different.”

              “Different how?” Ford asked.  Stan turned to face him.

              “Well, it’s kinda-”

              “Where did that scar come from?” Ford blurted out, staring at Stan’s abdomen.  Stan looked down, as though wondering what scar Ford was referring to.  He looked back up.

              “Oh, that thing?”  Stan chuckled.  “It’s a funny story, actually.”

              Judging by the appearance, I highly doubt that.  The jagged scar was clearly old and healed, but large, stretching across the right side of Stan’s upper abdomen.

              “It most certainly is not!” Angie snapped, confirming Ford’s suspicions.  She looked at her daughters.  “Girls, go get your shoes on.”  Danny and Daisy obediently ran off to get their shoes from their room.  Angie walked into the kitchen and leaned against the wall, scowling.  “Stan, we were terrified for you!  You can’t just act like what happened was a joke!”

              “I was being a stupid kid when it happened.  In my book, that makes it funny.”

              “Ugh.”  Angie rolled her eyes.

              “What happened, exactly?” Ford asked warily.

              “A year or two after I moved in for good, I was goofing off on this motorcycle thing a friend was souping up,” Stan said.  “Since I was a stupid kid, I crashed it.  Passed out right away.  Next thing I knew, I woke up in the hospital, with Angie’s family there, completely freaking out.”

              “Can you blame us?” Angie asked.  “Your spleen ruptured!”  Ford’s eyes widened.

              “Stanley, that’s a serious injury,” he said.

              “That’s what I’m saying!” Angie said, the New Jersey accent she had picked up from Stan coming out particularly strong.  Stan rolled his eyes, making Angie huff.

              “You don’t have a spleen anymore?” Ford asked.

              “Nope, still got one.”

              “But if your spleen ruptured…”

              “They grew me a new one,” Stan said with a shrug.  Ford’s jaw dropped.  “Angie, do you wanna explain it?  You’ve got the science background.”

              “Hmph.  Fine.”  Angie looked at Ford.  “The medical field on this planet has advanced enough that we are able to grow new organs for people who may need them.”  Her voice had become stilted and robotic, indicating that what she was saying was being translated from her native tongue by the translator brooch pinned to Ford’s shirt.  “We use their genetic information to grow that organ in a medical facility.  Without any defects that may have resulted in their need for a new organ, of course.”  Angie looked at Stan.  “With Stan, though, the doctors were a bit nervous, as the technology has not been tested on humans.  We found Stan a doctor who had training in human physiology, but even he was uncertain of how to proceed.  Ultimately, they decided to grow Stan a new spleen, with half of the genetic material coming from Stan and the other half coming from a suitable donor.  This would allow for the technology to work but also keep Stan’s body from rejecting the organ.”

              “By suitable donor, you mean…”

              “A member of my species,” Angie said.               “And it worked?” Ford asked.  Angie nodded.  “But…how?”

              “Our species are close enough to produce offspring capable of having their own offspring,” Angie said.  “I think it makes sense that a donor could be found for Stan.”

              “Fair enough,” Ford mumbled.  Danny and Daisy returned.  Angie walked over to Stan and kissed the top of his head.  Some part of Ford wished that he had been there when Stan first came to the planet.

              He’s always been so sensitive about the fact he’s shorter than average.  I’d imagine he’d have quite the reaction to effectively being a dwarf in this society.

              “I’ll drop the girls off with my parents on my way to work.  Please make sure you pack lunch for yourself and Stanford.”

              “Why am I getting a packed lunch?” Ford asked.  Stan frowned at him.

              “You’re coming with me to work, genius.  Did you think I was gonna leave you here all day?  Alone in my house?  With weird alien stuff that you don’t understand but definitely want to mess around with?”  Ford winced.

              When he phrases it like that…

              “Don’t worry, Ang, I’ll take care of him,” Stan said to his wife.  He kissed her on the cheek.  “Have a good day at work.”

              “You too, starlight,” Angie crooned.  She walked away.  Stan watched her leave, a goofy grin on his face.

              “Bye, kids!” he called.

              “Bye, Daddy!” Danny and Daisy shouted as Angie ushered them out the door.  The door had just closed behind Angie and the children when the kettle made a piercing whistle.  Stan grabbed two mugs from the same cupboard the coffee beans had been stored in and poured a hefty serving of liquid from the kettle into each mug.  He handed Ford a mug.  Ford stared at the drink, which was an off-white color.

              “I thought you said it was coffee,” Ford said.

              “It is.  I also said that the plants grow different on this planet.”  Stan took a sip from his own mug.  “Guess it’s just what happens when you stay somewhere long enough.  The place you’re in changes you.”

-----

              Ford managed to last a few hours before his curiosity and fascination could no longer be contained.

              “Stanley?” he said.  Stan tore his gaze away from the report he was going over.  Stan’s office at the Intergalactic and Interplanetary Communications Council was humble, consisting of a desk, a few chairs, and two bookcases.  His office had a window that looked out over the alien city, a view that Ford couldn’t help but admire.  Stan kept only two things on his desk: his keyboard, which was paired to a hologram screen, and a framed picture of Stan, his wife, and his children at a younger age.

              “What?” Stan asked.  He sighed.  “Look, I get that you’re probably bored, but that’s the only Earth book we’ve got, and I don’t have anything translated for you to read.”

              “I understand,” Ford said.  He set aside the book he had been given, an autobiography by someone apparently famous for fishing.  “But that isn’t what I wanted to talk to you about.”

              “If you want me to apologize for the science fair thing, I’m not gonna,” Stan said shortly, turning back to the hologram screen he had been reading from.

              …Oh.  Right.  We have some unresolved issues.

              “That isn’t what I wanted to talk about,” Ford said quickly.  Some of the tension in Stan’s shoulders eased.  “I- I wanted to discuss the, ah, spleen situation.”  Stan glanced at him.  “I have some more questions about it.”  Stan paused, visibly thinking.  After a moment, he shrugged.

              “I need a break anyways,” he said.  He pressed a button on his keyboard, turning off the hologram screen.  He leaned back in his chair.  “What did you wanna ask me?”

              “You said that you woke up in the hospital after the accident,” Ford said.  Stan nodded.  “Was that before or after you were given the new spleen?”

              “Before.  The Roswells wanted to make sure I gave permission to get a new spleen, so while I was knocked out, the doctors got rid of my ruined spleen and stitched me up enough to stop me from bleeding out.  When I woke up, they explained what the doctors wanted to do.  I agreed to it, ‘cause why wouldn’t I?  From what they said, living without my spleen would stink.”

              An understatement.  Though maybe not on this planet, with more advanced medicine.

              “I spent a few days in the hospital while the docs whipped up my new spleen.  After they gave me the transplant, I spent another week there to recover and be ‘under observation’ or whatever.”  Stan etched air quotes around the words “under observation”.  “I had a buncha follow-ups for a while to keep an eye on me, but everything worked out.”

              “Luckily for you.”

              “Yeah.”  Stan smirked.  “I’m starting to think Lady Luck’s got a crush on me.  Or she hates me so much she lets me pull through every time just to see what I’m gonna do next.”

              “Who are the Roswells?” Ford asked.

              “That’s Angie’s family.  I had to come up with something to call ‘em.”

              “Ah.  An appropriate name.”  Ford fell silent.  Stan rolled his eyes.

              “You’ve got something else to ask, I can tell.  Spit it out.”

              “The spleen is involved with blood production,” Ford said hesitantly.  A grin slowly began to spread across Stan’s face.  “Has a partially alien spleen had any impact on your blood?”  Stan opened a drawer in his desk and pulled out a pocketknife.

              “Check this shit out,” he said gleefully.  He pricked the tip of his thumb with the knife blade.  Promptly, a large drop of blood appeared.  Ford goggled.  Instead of dark red, the blood was a deep, reddish purple.  “Pretty cool party trick, ain’t it?”

              “I- I wasn’t expecting such a visible change,” Ford managed.

              “My blood is still mostly human.  But the alien blood cells are bigger than the human ones, so it makes my blood a different color.”

              “What color of blood do the aliens have?”

              “Purple.  My blood is more red than the aliens got, since, like I said, it’s mostly human.”  Stan’s grin broadened even more.  “The doc says I’m the only person with blood like this, probably in the entire universe.”

              “That’s- that’s quite-” Ford stammered as Stan pulled a bandage out of his desk and wrapped it around his thumb.  Ford frowned.  “What about your children?”

              “Danny and Daisy have Angie’s blood type.  Their pediatrician says hybrids of their kind don’t have hybrid blood.”  Stan waved a hand.  “I dunno exactly how it works.  You’d have to ask Angie.  She understands that stuff better than me.  All I care about is that my kids are healthy.”

              “As a father myself, I concur.”

              “Yeah, you said you’ve got kids,” Stan muttered.  Ford nodded.  “Are they nerds like you?”

              “Well…”

              “Don’t bother answering, actually.  There’s no way you’d have a kid that isn’t a complete geek,” Stan said dismissively.  Ford rolled his eyes.  Stan glanced at the watch-like band he wore around his wrist.  “I’ve got time for one more question before I gotta hop on a work call.”  Stan scowled.  “If I wasn’t babysitting you today, I’d be going in person.  But I don’t wanna risk you causing some sort of interplanetary incident.”

              Ignoring the passive aggression.  Or, rather, outright aggression.

              “Well?” Stan prompted.  Ford took a deep breath.

              “Yesterday, before we went to your home, you made a comment that implied you don’t really think of yourself as human anymore,” Ford said slowly.  Stan raised an eyebrow at him.  “And you- you aren’t, are you?”  Stan took a while to answer.

              “I’m not as human as I was before I left Earth, that’s for sure,” Stan said.  He drummed his fingers on his desk thoughtfully.  “I mean, the only way I could get a blood transfusion now is if the doctors here grow me some custom blood.”  Stan glanced at Ford.  “They can grow blood like they grow organs.”

              “That sounds like another thing I’ll need to ask Angie about.”

              “Oh, yeah.  You’ll love hearing how that stuff works.”  Stan chewed on his bottom lip.  “There’s the whole spleen thing, that’s a pretty big reason I’m not completely human anymore.  But even if all my parts were still human, I dunno if I could really consider myself that anymore.”

              “What do you mean?” Ford asked.  There was a loud chime from somewhere.

              “Shit, the call’s about to start,” Stan muttered.  He quickly pulled up his hologram screen and turned to face it.

              “Stanley, what do you mean?” Ford pressed.  Stan looked back at him.

              “It’s like I said this morning.  When you’ve lived somewhere long enough, it changes you.  Now, shut your yap and let me do my job, okay?”  Stan turned his attention back to the screen.  Ford opened his book again, but couldn’t focus enough to read.

              Instead, he looked out the window, staring at the bustling alien city below.

[askwhatsforlunch]

Nettle and Green Onion Rarebit (Vegetarian)

After a few hours spent gardening, sowing, planting, weeding and tilling, how satisfying to return in the kitchen with freshly dug go, and freshly snipped (very carefully, with gloves!) nettle. These Nettle and Green Onion Rarebit, inspired from a recipe in this month's Simple Things, make the harvest all the more delicious! Happy Thursday!

Ingredients (makes 4 slices):

a large Green Onion

2 tablespoons unsalted butter

2 tablespoons plain flour

1 cup semi-skimmed milk

a pinch of fleur de sel or sea salt flakes and freshly cracked black pepper

nutmeg

Mature English Cheddar

4 small slices White Bloomer Bread

1 tablespoon unsalted butter

1 cup freshly picked nettles (wearing gloves), leaves removed from the stalks and thoroughly washed under cold water (wearing rubber gloves!)

Preheat oven to 250°C/480°F.

Finely chop Green Onion.

Melt butter in a medium saucepan over a medium flame. Once butter is just foaming, add chopped Green Onion, and cook, a couple of minutes.

Sprinkle in the flour. Give a good stir, and cook out, 1 minute.

Remove from the heat, and gradually stir in the milk, to prevent lumps, so the mixture is smooth and loose. Return over medium heat, and cook, stirring constantly until the sauce thickens. Once the béchamel thickens, season with fleur de sel and black pepper. Grate in about 1/4 teaspoon nutmeg. Then, grate in 1/3 cup Mature English Cheddar. Give a good stir until melted. Remove from the heat.

Place White Bloomer Bread slices onto a pizza pan, and place in the middle of the hot oven. Toast, at 250°C/480°F, 4 minutes.

Melt butter in a small frying pan over medium-high heat. Once the butter is just foaming, add the nettle leaves, and sauté, a couple of minutes until wilted. Transfer to a chopping board, and chop finely. Stir nettle leaves into the cheesy béchamel.

Flip White Bloomer Bread slices on their other side, and spoon cheesy nettle and green onion béchamel onto each slice. Grate a little more Cheddar on top and return to the hot oven. Bake, at 250°C/480°F, 3 to 4 minutes, until bubbly.

Sprinkle Nettle and Green Onion Rarebit with chopped green part of the Green Onion, and serve immediately, with a glass of chilled white wine, like Chardonnay or Sauvignon Blanc.

[barwithnodoors]

Tony Stark’s Cheeseburger Bloody Mary

because what sometimes a genius billionaire playboy philanthropists needs a cheese burger and the hair of a dog.

Recipes under the cut:

Bloody Mary:

large handful of ice

100ml vodka

500ml tomato juice

1 tbsp lemon juice, plus 2 slices to serve

few shakes Worcestershire sauce (I used a vegan brand)

few shakes Tabasco

pinch celery salt

pinch black pepper

2 celery sticks

Olives

One mini-cheeseburger

Place the ice in a large jug. Measure the vodka, tomato juice and lemon juice and pour it straight onto the ice.

Add 3 shakes of Worcestershire sauce and Tabasco (or more if you like it very spicy) and a pinch of celery salt and pepper. Stir until the outside of the jug feels cold, then strain the cocktail into 2 tall glasses.

Top up with fresh ice, add a celery stick, skewers of olives (one with the tiny cheese burger) lemon slice to both glasses and enjoy.

Cheese Burger:

Mini Hamburger Buns (I baked my own)

sliced cheese

one sliced pickle

Hamburger patty (I used Future Farm Plant Based, but you can use whatever you want, or even make mini patties from scratch)

Use a small glass to cut burger patties into small rounds and grill for a few minutes on one side.  Flip and add 1/4 of a slice of cheese to the top of the patty.  Continue grilling to taste.  

Cut bun in half and add one slice of pickle, patty with cheese, and ketchup.

Mini Buns:

1 (1/4-ounce) package (2 1/4 teaspoons) active dry yeast or bread machine yeast

1/2 cup water, warm, about 110 F

2/3 cup whole milk, room temperature

1 large egg

3 tablespoons butter, melted and cooled slightly

2 1/2 tablespoons sugar

1 1/4 teaspoons salt

3 cups all-purpose flour

Butter or oil, for greasing the bowl

1 large egg white

1 tablespoon water

1/4 cup sesame seeds

Combine the yeast and warm water in a large bowl or the bowl of a stand mixer. Let the mixture stand for about 10 minutes, until foamy.

In a small bowl, whisk the milk, egg, and melted butter together to blend.

Add the milk mixture to the yeast mixture along with the sugar, salt, and flour.

Knead the dough by hand (or using a stand mixer with the dough hook) for 8 to 10 minutes, adding a little more flour if necessary to keep the dough from sticking to your hands, the countertop, or the sides of the bowl. The dough should be smooth and elastic at this point. (do the window pane test - if you can stretch it to the point it’s see through, it’s ready).

Generously grease a large bowl with butter or oil. Gather the dough into a ball and place it into the greased bowl. Turn it over a few times to coat the dough thoroughly.

Cover the bowl with plastic wrap and let the dough rise for 1 to 1 1/2 hours, or until it has doubled in bulk.

Line 2 large baking sheets with parchment paper or lightly grease the pans.

Punch down and pat the dough into a rectangle.

Use a small glass or egg cup to cut out buns and put on tray 2 inches apart.

Preheat the oven to 375 ° F

 Whisk the egg white with 1 tablespoon of water until blended and brush over buns.  Sprinkle on sesame seeds. 

Bake for around 10 minutes.  Keep a close eye on them.  They are very small and cook very quickly and can go from undercooked to burnt very fast.  To check if they’re baked through, tap on the bottom of the bun.  If it sounds hollow it’s done.  Should be golden in color.

[robo-milky]

A Birthday? Well, Al is certainly going to be trying to make a dish he remembers hearing her enjoying, Yuu always thinking of practical stuff offering some new shoe inserts for comfort.

Aadesh just gives a note, of some 'strings' he's pulled to get her next semester's classes to align just a lil more with a Certain Third Year ;3 "Call it: an invessstment~"

[Cloche’ Birthday Bash]

Albert, the dorm leader of Ramshackle… Cloche wouldn’t say she’s fond of him, but his presence is always welcome. In the mornings, she’d usually pick up on the scent of melted butter and freshly toasted bread, and had grown to expect it. Not that she wanted Albert to cook breakfast, but it felt like something was missing when he didn’t. Cloche made her way to the kitchen below, ears perking up. Instead of the subtle smell of dairy, her nose was met with the sweetness of soy milk? There was a bowl of tofu at her spot on the table, drizzled with syrup and ginger, and sliced into the shape of a flower.

Cloche gave Albert a nod of acknowledgement; which used to be a bow. “Good morning, Master Albert. Thank you for the breakfast as usual,” Cloche said dryly. She took a seat, noticing Albert staring at her and then at the food. Was that a crease on his brow, under those glasses? Looking past Albert, Cloche noticed all the crudely cut white blocks on the counter. He must have worked hard, she thought. After trying a bite, Cloche’ tail and ears drooped, “It’s been a while since I’ve last had sweet tofu. I used to order them for dessert every time I was at a restaurant. Whether they were served hot, cold, cut smoothly or rough— it’s taste remains the same. You didn’t have to cut the tofu in such a way, but I appreciate the thought…”

“Master Albert, your birthday wish and presence is more than enough. …After school, I’ll try my best to make sure the attendees of my party don’t make a mess out of our… home.”

- - -

Eugenio— now shortened to Yuu, was another Ramshackle resident Cloche felt somewhat warmly about, especially having come from Earth as well. It was not uncommon for Cloche and Yuu to walk back to Ramshackle together with Grim, they shared the same classes after all. Whenever they ran out of topics to discuss, the rhythmic clicks of her heels filled in for the comfortable silence. “Master Yuu, Master Grim, you two may go on without me. I need to stop for a bit,” Cloche spoke.

“Seriously, Cloche? Are ya tired from walking to Ramshackle already? We walk like this everyday!” Grim quipped.

“I know, I know…” Cloche responded as she went off the dirt path. She leaned against a tree and slipped off her shoes. She was caught off guard when Yuu approached her— making Grim come along as well.

“You say you have ‘just the thing’ for me?” Cloche tilted her head when Yuu reached into their bag. “If it’s going to be a present, you can save it for the party— huh? It is the present…?”

“Shoe inserts? How lame!” Grim snickered.

Cloche sighed upon hearing Grim’s unnecessary comment and took the shoe inserts, eyes softening, “Thank you, Master Yuu. It’s a considerate gift. I feel bad for having to use your present early. …Hm? The purpose is for it to be used anyways? Well, I suppose so.”

“All better. I think I can make it to Ramshackle now. Since you’re the one who helped me, Master Yuu, you can have the second slice of cake.”

- - -

Aadesh, someone to look out for… When Cloche had been pulled out of first block to go to the counsellor’s office, she tried to ignore Ace’s “oooh”s and “somebody’s in trouble”s. Since she was wearing something a little flashier than her apron, it was only natural everyone else stared at her too. Cloche was normally careful, but the humiliation made her open the door to Aadesh’ office with a little more force than usual— nearly swinging it open. “Mr. Sona, I’m here as you’ve called. Is something the matter? You don’t normally pull me out a class, during a lesson.” she asked coldly, trying to figure out what Aadesh could possibly want. Her furrowed brows would later raise in confusion when she was handed a small slip of paper.

Cloche’ grip tightened on the note, she was going to crush it if she held it any tighter, “An investment, you say? I guess so… I’d be a fool if were to mistake this new schedule for a gift.” As her tail whipped, the bell that adorned it rattled sharply, “If anything… I’d say it’s more of a threat, a display of power, maybe even a flaunt. I don’t need you to show me what you can do. I already know you have this school wrapped around your fingers.” Cloche had to take deep breath to calm herself before she’d say something she would regret.

After folding the note into a small square and put it in her pocket, she bowed, “Thank you, Mr. Sona,” her thanks rang hollow.

“You could have met with me at break, lunch, or after school to avoid prying eyes, instead. …Oh? You wanted to ‘let me spend time with [my] friends on [my] birthday’? Hmph, they’re not ‘friends’…”

[thepomegranatewitch]

tu bshvat 5784

Welcome to the new tradition around here, sharing my family's tu bshvat table! Pictures imperfect because we needed to sit and eat!

Image description. Three photos of a table set with a meal, described below. One from overhead, the other two from just over tableheight at two different angles.

The whole table! This is a secondhand dropleaf table that I fixed up a bit with oilcloth, but I'd love to have one of those old country kitchen wooden tables that serve as prep table, dining table, and ad hoc operating table for La Résistance. The kids keep grabbing onto the edge and trying to swing off this, and you can imagine that will one day soon end very poorly.

Since I live an actually not aesthetically cottagecore life, we have nothing but the finest dollar store plain white dishware for us adults, and metal sets for the kids. I haven't finished making all the colour coded napkins, but eagle eyed individuals will notice each blue gingham napkin has a flower embroidered in the corner in each of our colour coding scheme, from top left clockwise that's red, yellow, green, orange. Each setting has a bowl on a plate, a fork and spoon on a blue napkin, and a haggadah with a pomegranate branch on blue circle. Adult settings also have a butter knife and a stemmed port glass, and the kid settings have two small square sticker sheets and a turkish teaglass.

The table has, from top left clockwise, an adult place setting, a fruit plate on glass, a child setting, a red plate with four servings of melanzane alla parmigiana, an adult place setting, a paper packet of parsley seeds, a small glass jar with cardamom pods, a glass bowl of wash water with three star anise floating in it, a gray towel with white stripes, and a child setting. Down the center of the table from left to right is a bowl of fruit and nut studded barley, a bottle of white and a bottle of red wine, a square container with mixed roasted vegetables, a half gallon mason jar with water, a pecan pie with circular pattern, and a plate of homemade thick matzah. Yes, I made matzah because I thought it would be easier than making bread. Yes, my oven hasn't been cleaned in a while and so started smoking. Yes, the smoke alarms went off multiple times. Yes, I did have to stand there facing the street while it rained pumping the side door while all the windows were open to get all the steam and smoke particles out of the air. Holiday adventures with Sahar!

Image description. Four close up shots of foods, described below. All are birds eye except the barley, which is at an angle to show the careful mounding.

the fruit plate! Our minhag is at least twelve tree fruits so we piled most of them on the tasting plate. From the ramekin going clockwise, that's a ramekin of pomegranate arils, a chunk of pomegranate, segmented tangerine slices, dried apricots, almonds, dried figs, golden raisins (the baby calls them 'ravens'), extra-dark chocolate chunks (cacao is a tree fruit, it's what the ancestors would want), a ramekin of pitted kalamata olives, and some dried medjool dates. Bonus: the kids ate the plate remnants as a serve-yourself breakfast the next morning. Always wonderful when a holiday yields some batch cooking and child autonomy.

a pecan pie. We use the King Arthur Flour Old-Fashioned Pecan Pie recipe because corn syrup tastes off to me. The changes we made this time are making a savory not sweet pie crust (my spouse makes it with iced water and vodka), cream instead of milk, toasting the filling nuts just shy of burnt, and cream instead of milk. It worked really well to reduce the sweetness from 'sickening' to 'very.' It's our traditional dessert and we eat it only once a year because it's so sweet. I like laying the pecans flat side up in rings on the top for full coverage and so it looks a little like tree rings.

The washwater bowl. It's just a glass mixing bowl with water, but I dropped in some orange blossom water and floated some star anise to make it pretty, and I liked it. Will have to repeat the anise for pesach, but skip the orange blossom water - the anise completely overpowered it.

The barley. We cooked it plain and then added walnuts, pine nuts, dried cherries, fresh pomegranate, and a lot of olive oil. We didn't salt it, which was fine, because we let the kids salt the eggplant before we roasted it, which was not fine. Together they taste great. For those keeping count, the barley dish rounds out the tree fruits to thirteen, and with the whole-wheat matzah that makes all seven species! Side note on the matzah, keep your eyes peeled around pesach for my recipe. Once I learned how to make it, I'm never going back to store matzah. Mine is delicious and oil rich, and we eat it as a pleasant flatbread, not just the bread of affliction.

Image description. Two photos of amanita mushrooms from overhead angles.

As a final bit, please enjoy these amanita mushrooms from the JCC. The groundskeeper is in a months-long battle with this patch that just keeps coming back. He keeps knocking over all but one so the preschoolers can safely enjoy looking only, and they keep popping up. I'm delighted - I thought these were mythical and didn't realize they grew where I live now!

If you'd like to support my work, you can buy a copy of my tu bshvat haggadah here, and the two tu bshvat stickers here and here.

[fiftytwotwentythree]

Wellness Wednesday:

Doubts Creepin' In

Couple of weeks ago I said I wanted to "finish strong" - I wanted to weigh the lowest I've ever weighed on my last weigh-in, I have a few unwritten goals that I want to surpass, and I want to skate into the New Year flawless on my diet.

Well,

I have become extremely snacky recently. I am still eating "clean" but the portions are getting out of control.

The recent Snack Attack obviously hasn't helped my weightloss progress

And...

I got a Family Holiday Dinner coming around corner just before my penultimate weigh-in and I don't know if I can resist all the side dishes... especially since I will be deprived of my most coveted Holiday Elixirs - I'm talking about the Three Wise-Men of Winter Goodness:

Cranberry Punch,

Eggnog,

and Hot Chocolate

Hot Damn, I will miss thee three.

Lastly - I absolutely cannot stand working out/exercising at the moment. Every work has been completed begrudgingly.

.

.

51st CHECK-IN:

Current Goals:

Lose 52 lbs: Completed

Loss 52 lbs as of 4/12/2023

Milestone: Loss 100 lbs as of 11/01/2023

New Goal: Maintain or Continue on The Weight Loss Path

Avoid "Junk Food"

Minimize Take-Out / Fast Food Consumption

Short Term:

Vegetarian-ish Diet: Completed

End Date: 4/09/2023 - 46 Days Total

Groundhog Day Diet: Completed*

10/01/2023 - 10/31/2023

.

.

Meal Tracker:

THURSDAY

Lunch:

(2) Cheeseburgers

- Potato Hamburger Buns

- Prime Rib Steak Beef Patties

- Cheese

- Top Secret Burger Sauce

(1) Glass of Chocolate Milk

Snack:

Summer Sausage Sandwich

- Slices of Summer Sausage

- Cheese

- Potato Hamburger Buns

(4 - 5/8oz) Bags of Smartfood's White Cheddar Popcorn

Bag of Ranch Corn Nuts

(4oz) Bag of Sahale Snacks Pomegranate Vanilla Flavored Cashews Glazed Mix

(4oz) Bag of Sahale Snacks Pomegranate Flavored Pistachios Glazed Mix

Supper:

Large Plate of Macaroni & Cheese

Loaded Mashed Potatoes

(1) Glass of Chocolate Milk

FRIDAY

Lunch:

Chef Salad

(2) Bowls of Wonderful's Shelled Seasoned Salt Pistachios

Snack:

(4 -5/8oz) Bags of Smartfood's White Cheddar Popcorn

Supper:

Bowl of White Chicken Chili

- 10 Crackers

(2) Oven Baked Ham & Swiss Sliders

(2) Handfuls of Red Grapes

SATURDAY

Breakfast:

(2) Sausage Sandwiches

- (8) Sausage Links

- Potato Hamburger Buns

- Cheese

(1) Glass of Chocolate Milk

Lunch:

Birds Eye Sesame Garlic Veggie Stir Fry

- Annie Chun's Sticky White Rice

- Individual Bag of Planters Peanuts

(1) Glass of Strawberry Milk

Snack;

Bag of Ranch Corn Nuts

(1) Small Orange

Supper:

Can of Progresso Tomato Basil Soup

- 10 Crackers

(1) Grilled Cheese Sandwich

(1) Glass of Strawberry Milk

SUNDAY

Lunch:

Salami & Cheese on Potato Hamburger Bun

StarKist Smart Bowls Rice & Beans with Tuna: Spicy Pepper

(1) Glass of Chocolate Strawberry Milk

Snack:

Bag of Orville Redenbacher Ultimate Butter Popcorn

(1) Glass of Strawberry Milk

Bag of BBQ Corn Nuts

Large Bowl of Smartfood's White Cheddar Popcorn

(1) Glass of Chocolate Milk

Supper:

(3) Ham & Salsa Con Queso on Pretzel Slider Buns

(1) Glass of Strawberry Milk

MONDAY

Lunch:

Salami & Cheese Sandwich

Cup of Del Monte Peaches

Snack:

Large Bowl of Smartfood's White Cheddar Popcorn

(1) Glass of Chocolate Milk

Supper:

Can of Progresso New England Clam Chowder

- 10 Crackers

Slice of Buttered Bread

Serving of Kirkland's Signature Roasted Garlic and Herb Seasoned Almonds

TUESDAY

Lunch:

Chef Salad

Serving of Kirkland's Signature Roasted Garlic and Herb Seasoned Almonds

Snack:

(1) Glass of Chocolate Milk

Cup of Del Monte Peaches

Supper:

Can of Progresso Creamy Chicken Noodle Soup

Slice of Buttered Bread

WEDNESDAY

Lunch:

Annie Chun's Yakisoba Noodle Bowl

- Serving of Kirkland's Signature Roasted Garlic and Herb Seasoned Almonds

Bag of Ranch Corn Nuts

Supper:

(4) Oven Baked Ham & Swiss Sliders

(2) Oven Baked Turkey & Swiss Sliders

Large Plate of Ranch Mash Potatoes

Bowl of Wonderful's Shelled Salt & Pepper Pistachios

(2) Glass of Chocolate Milk

.

.

Workouts:

THURSDAY

(400) Jumping Jacks [8 sets of 50]

(100) Glute Bridges [4 sets of 25]

(100) Push-Ups [10 sets of 10]

(100) Sit-Ups [5 Sets of 20]

(100) Reverse Leg Lifts [10 sets of 10]

(100) Leg Kickbacks [10 sets of 10]

(5 min) Planks [5 Sets of 1 min]

FRIDAY

(400) Jumping Jacks [8 sets of 50]

(100) Glute Bridges [4 sets of 25]

(100) Push-Ups [10 sets of 10]

(100) Sit-Ups [5 Sets of 20]

(100) Reverse Leg Lifts [10 sets of 10]

(100) Leg Kickbacks [10 sets of 10]

(5 min) Planks [5 Sets of 1 min]

SATURDAY

(400) Jumping Jacks [8 sets of 50]

(100) Glute Bridges [4 sets of 25]

(100) Push-Ups [10 sets of 10]

(100) Sit-Ups [5 Sets of 20]

(100) Reverse Leg Lifts [10 sets of 10]

(100) Leg Kickbacks [10 sets of 10]

(5 min) Planks [5 Sets of 1 min]

SUNDAY

* Morning Workout *

(400) Jumping Jacks [8 sets of 50]

(100) Glute Bridges [4 sets of 25]

(100) Push-Ups [10 sets of 10]

(100) Sit-Ups [5 Sets of 20]

(100) Squats [4 sets of 25]

(100) Reverse Leg Lifts [10 sets of 10]

(100) Leg Kickbacks [10 sets of 10]

(5 min) Planks [5 Sets of 1 min]

* Evening Workout *

(400) Jumping Jacks [8 sets of 50]

(100) Glute Bridges [4 sets of 25]

(100) Push-Ups [10 sets of 10]

(100) Reverse Leg Lifts [10 sets of 10]

(100) Leg Kickbacks [10 sets of 10]

(100) Sit-Ups [5 Sets of 20]

(5 min) Planks [5 Sets of 1 min]

MONDAY

* Afternnon Workout *

(400) Jumping Jacks [8 sets of 50]

(100) Glute Bridges [4 sets of 25]

(100) Push-Ups [10 sets of 10]

(100) Sit-Ups [5 Sets of 20]

(100) Reverse Leg Lifts [10 sets of 10]

(100) Leg Kickbacks [10 sets of 10]

(5 min) Planks [5 Sets of 1 min]

* Evening Workout *

(400) Jumping Jacks [8 sets of 50]

(100) Glute Bridges [4 sets of 25]

(100) Push-Ups [10 sets of 10]

(100) Reverse Leg Lifts [10 sets of 10]

(100) Leg Kickbacks [10 sets of 10]

(100) Sit-Ups [5 Sets of 20]

(5 min) Planks [5 Sets of 1 min]

TUESDAY

* Afternoon Workout *

(400) Jumping Jacks [8 sets of 50]

(100) Glute Bridges [4 sets of 25]

(100) Push-Ups [10 sets of 10]

(100) Sit-Ups [5 Sets of 20]

(100) Reverse Leg Lifts [10 sets of 10]

(100) Leg Kickbacks [10 sets of 10]

(5 min) Planks [5 Sets of 1 min]

* Evening Workout *

(400) Jumping Jacks [8 sets of 50]

(100) Glute Bridges [4 sets of 25]

(100) Push-Ups [10 sets of 10]

(100) Reverse Leg Lifts [10 sets of 10]

(100) Leg Kickbacks [10 sets of 10]

(100) Sit-Ups [5 Sets of 20]

(5 min) Planks [5 Sets of 1 min]

WEDNESDAY

* Afternoon Workout *

(400) Jumping Jacks [8 sets of 50]

(100) Glute Bridges[4 sets of 25]

(100) Push-Ups [10 sets of 10]

(100) Sit-Ups [5 Sets of 20]

(100) Reverse Leg Lifts [10 sets of 10]

(100) Leg Kickbacks [10 sets of 10]

(5 min) Planks [5 Sets of 1 min]

* Evening Workout *

(400) Jumping Jacks [8 sets of 50]

(100) Glute Bridges [4 sets of 25]

(100) Push-Ups [10 sets of 10]

(100) Reverse Leg Lifts [10 sets of 10]

(100) Leg Kickbacks [10 sets of 10]

(100) Sit-Ups [5 Sets of 20]

(5 min) Planks [5 Sets of 1 min]

.

.

WEIGHT TRACKER:

Starting Weight (Noon, 1/01/2023): XXX.X lbs

Weight at Last Check-In, 12/13/2023: 0.0 lbs

Weight As of Noon, 12/20/2023: -0.6 lbs

Total Weight Loss: -103.6 lbs

.

.

Closing Thoughts:

The Good:

I got a short work week?

The Bad:

Had small "kink" in my morning routine that sent me to the doctor. Hopefully, it's just a one-and-done type thing.

The Ugly:

My sleep schedule is such a wreck that I have had small moments of not being able to distinguish reality.

[c4nnibxxxl1sm0]

Hey!! ¿Que tal? Soy nueva en este mundo de anaymia, usaré este espacio para informar de cómo va mi progreso. ☆〜（ゝ。∂）

Hey! How's it going? I am new to this world of Ana and Mia, I will use this space to report how my progress is going. ☆〜（ゝ。∂）

Día 1: 900 kcl max.

Day 1: 900 kcl max.

Altura: 158cm

Height: 158 Centimeters

Peso:90.kg

Weight: 90.kg

Meta 1: 70 kg

Comida consumida durante todo el día:

Food consumed throughout the day:

08:00 ; Un vaso de leche (Sin chocolate ni azúcar)

3 rodajas de pan integral.

A glass of milk (no chocolate or sugar)

3 slices of whole wheat bread

(170 kcl)

11:00 ; 5 frutillas/fresas.

5 strawberrys

(33 kcl + 170 kcl = 203 kcl)

13:00 ; 1 plato grande de fideos junto con 2 huevos duros.

1 large serving of noodles along with 2 eggs

(305 kcl + 203 kcl = 508 kcl)

18:00 ; Un yogurt griego con 3 rodajas de pan integral.

A Greek yogurt along with 3 slices of whole wheat bread

(229 kcl + 508 kcl = 737 kcl)

20:00 ; Sushi junto con un té verde.

Sushi accompanied by green tea.

(170 Kcl + 737 kcl = 907 kcl)

{Al pasarme de calorías en la cena decidí vomitar}

{When I went over calories I decided to vomit}

(Lamento si les parece demasiado lo que comí; recuerden que empecé hace poco en esto.ᜊ꒰っ"◞‸◟c꒱ᜊ)

(I'm sorry if there are spelling mistakes, I don't speak English very well ᜊ꒰っ◞‸◟c꒱ᜊ)

[tact-and-impulse]

Narumayo Week 2022 Day 2

I’ve wanted to cover a Professor Layton crossover for a prompt for a while, since this was how I got on board this ship, lol.

Prompt: Rainy Day

Rainwater ripples down the windows, and the thick clouds have turned London into a gray landscape. Maya traces a smiling face on the cool glass surface. A tiny distraction, while they’re waiting for their order. As she adds a zigzag line over the eyes, she wonders aloud. “How much longer will it take?”

“Probably a while.” Her companion answers. “We ordered a lot. And is that supposed to be me?”

“Maybe.” She plays coy but doesn’t wipe it away when she turns back to him. In this cozy interior, they were given the smallest round table, and their chairs are rather close. He’s staring right at her, which is far from unusual, and yet…

Blurred scenes flip through her mind, like a film reel. Mundane work hours, flour dissipating in the heated air. Errands and lunches spent by the dusty wayside. Dreamless nights, because they were already in the dream. Five years of a life they never actually lived.

Phoenix clears his throat. “It should be worth the wait. Luke did say this place served the ideal British tea. Too bad he has school and the professor’s in a meeting.”

“Y-yeah. I bet they would’ve had recommendations.”

Oh, geez. This is awkward.

Thankfully, the waiter interrupts them, serving their drinks first. Steam rises from their cups of black tea, spiraling above the additional milk, sugar cubes, and lemon slices. The first sip is strong, and she tries not to burn her tongue.

“Maya. Are you okay?”

She sets her teacup on the saucer, hoping she doesn’t tremble. “My taste buds are still intact, if that’s what you’re asking.”

“You don’t have to pretend.” His voice softens. “I mean, if we told anyone else about what happened in Labyrinthia, it’d sound crazy to them. Not just the witch hunts either, but…the fake memories.”

A particular highlight surfaces. She’s at the counter, and an irate customer is getting on her nerves. Indistinct hands reach for her, and then, Nick grabs them by the collar, telling them not to touch her. She can’t exactly recall the end, she just knows of their boss’s return and punishment by bread. It’s not like when he appeared to save her. She slumps. “You still have them too.”

“…Yeah. How do you feel about our baker stint?”

She laughs, though it sounds hollow. “I don’t know. It’s hard to explain. It feels weird, that I can remember things so vividly. But then, I remind myself that none of it was real. It isn’t easy to forget though.”

At that moment, their scones arrive. The aroma makes her mouth water, and she slathers on the accompanying cream and jam. Nick copies her, and he immediately makes a mess of his first bite. It’s endearing, as he searches for his cloth napkin with crumbs on his mouth. She offers her own with a flourish, ignoring the skip in her pulse.

“Thanks.” He looks somewhat embarrassed. “Well, I was about to say that I don’t care about forgetting or not. It wasn’t a bad dream to spend five years with you.”

“Oh, really?” She can blame the scone for feeling warm.

“Hey, it wasn’t. I wouldn’t give up being an attorney to bake, but it could’ve been worse. Like the trial.”

Luke had said that Phoenix was devastated, and she can see the shadow of that despair, of when she plunged into the fire. She picks a quiet page from their Labyrinthia story, a successful delivery on a rainy afternoon and they had swung hands on the way back. She reaches across the table and takes his fingers in hers. He startles but she holds firm. “That was a nightmare. I’m here.”

He smiles, squeezes in return. “And we have a few days left in London, to make real memories.”

“Right, as always.” And she laughs when he rolls his eyes.

The rain’s slowed to a light drizzle when they get their finger sandwiches. Maya’s eager to try all four kinds; the cucumber is better than expected, the egg salad and smoked salmon varieties are pretty good, but she’s partial to the curried chicken. The heavy discussion’s made her especially hungry.

“How do you still have room?” Nick groans. “I’ll have to take the sponge cake and tarts in a box.”

“I have a separate stomach for dessert.”

“Plus, we have dinner tonight.”

“We’ll walk to the hotel. No big deal.” Before they leave, she draws another smiling face with a topknot.

And in the newly clean streets, their hands find each other and swing in time as they stroll.

tea rose: growth, renewal, hope

[dateddisneydishes]

Sadie's Substantial Sandwich

From Oswald the Lucky Rabbit in Sky Scrappers

The History

In 1928, Sky Scrappers would be the last Oswald the Lucky Rabbit cartoon to be made by Walt Disney Studios.

When arguing for increase pay in his contract for his distributor, Charles Mintz, stole the copyright for the character and gave it to a another studio, while also stealing away half of Disney's staff.

Legend has it, Walt created the charater of Mickey Mouse on the train back to Hollywood after this devestating blow to the company, and vowed from then on to tightly control the copyright of his intellectual properties in the future.

The Food

In Sky Scrappers, Oswald's girlfriend, Sadie the Cat (later renamed Ortensia) is selling sandwhiches from her lunch cart. But what kind of sandwhiches? In black and white it's hard to tell the components of the lunch outside of the fact that there's a buch of stuff between two slices of bread.

Well fortunately for me there's a 1928 cookbook that is nothing but sandwhiches; Seven Hundred Sandwiches by Florence A Cowles. After the first world war, with resrictions on wheat lifted, sandwiches became a popular lunch item. Especially in 1928 when pre-sliced bread became commercially available.

That said, though, we're still left with the question of which one to pick out of 700 options. Taking inspiration from an earlier short, Hungry Hoboes, wherein Oswald and Pete harssass some poor chickens for some eggs to fry, I therefore found a fried egg sandwich in the cookbook.

Ingredients

1 fried egg

1 tomato

Salt to taste

Pepper to taste

Paprika to taste

Butter

2 slices of white bread

Cookware

Non-stick frying pan

Knife

Directions

Cut tomatoes into medium-thick slices, and sprinkle with salt, pepper, and paprika.

Fry eggs, in buttered pan, until yolks are hard.

Put egg and tomato between two thin slices of buttered bread.

Serve with a glass of whole milk

The recipe goes on to suggest that you use scrambled or boiled eggs in place of the fried. The point is that you need hard yolks so as not to make the bread soggy when your sandwich sits in it's lunch pail for half of the day.

So that concludes the Early Era, but we're not quite done yet with Oswald the Lucky Rabbit. So tune in next time to hear the story about Disney winning back it's long lost character and for a 1930s ice cream cake.

[lesbianslovebts]

So we're gonna pretend it's October 9th instead of November 9th for the Auctober prompt of comfort food! I wanted to talk about my special food routine, so!

I work from home Monday to Friday from 1 PM to 10 PM. On Monday, Tuesday, Wednesday, and Friday, I have vanilla almond granola with vanilla almond milk in a glass for breakfast. Then I rinse out the glass and have some juice. On Thursday, I have to get up an hour earlier than normal to go to therapy. Since there's more time between breakfast and lunch on these days, I have to eat a little bit more to prevent my meds from hurting my stomach. So, I have two slices of toast and juice. For lunch on Monday, Tuesday, Wednesday, and Friday, I have half a piece of garlic flatbread with olive oil, 2 ounces of sharp cheddar cheese, 2 ounces of thin-sliced hard salami, and strawberries, eaten in that order. On Thursday, I have a plain ham and cheese sandwich from Subway. Supper is the meal that varies to keep things lively, but Friday is Chipotle burrito day. Weekends and holidays are a free-for-all.

In addition to eating the same food items, there is a larger routine involved. I have to go grocery shopping on Saturdays because I get too overwhelmed if I leave the house on Sunday before the new work week. I walk the same path in the same store with my noise cancelling headphones and get the same items from the same brands every week. And on Sunday nights at about 10:30 PM, I prepare my lunches for the week in the same way by folding the bread in half, cutting the 8oz brick of cheese into 4 servings, washing the strawberries, and storing them in the fridge the same way in the same spot. When I eat lunch, I heat the bread for 22 seconds in the microwave, pour olive oil in a spoon, and spread it on with the back of the spoon. I eat the bread and then move onto the cheese, slicing it thinly as I eat it. Then I eat one piece of salami at a time, using one hand to fold it in half 3 times, bite off the tip, and then eat the rest of the slice. Then I eat the strawberries. It might seem like these actions would get boring or that it wastes time to follow all these steps, but it is highly efficient.

Several things can go wrong, though. I get really distressed if my Saturday shopping is disrupted by other plans (i.e., mom has the car), if the store is overcrowded, if they're out of the brand I always buy, if the person at the deli slices the salami too thick, if the strawberries mold, if someone else used my cheese knife, etc.

To most allistic people, following a rigid schedule like this would probably be stressful, but to me, it creates a baseline level of calm. If I have control over my meals and know what to expect, there is no anxiety over figuring out what to eat and when. Do I get sick of the food? No, I've had this routine for a couple years, and I still look forward to breakfast and lunch every day. Do I ever crave change? Yes, I choose what I want for supper on a daily basis. This is planned change, not unexpected change. Would I be capable of changing it up? Yes, but it would be unnecessarily anxiety-producing. All in all? I like my routine. 😌