#the chicken salad war

[copperbadge]

Hi Sam! While you were doing your coronation chicken tour, Max Miller of Tasting History posted an episode on the original version of coronation chicken: youtube.com/watch?v=LZJHIOtoH3M&t=919s. I thought you might be interested if you weren't already aware of it!

Oh that's cool! Yeah, with the coronation impending, there were a lot of articles and such on coronation chicken, and I was able to try quite a few versions of it while I was in Europe.

I'm slowly formulating how The Chicken Salad War is going to go, because the crux of the story is two chefs who are each very good at what they do making the same dish in very different ways.

Despite the fact that Michaelis doesn't have a particularly refined palate and Gregory is his father's son in that he likes hearty, protein-rich food and is fond of a cold meat salad, Simon is very traditional and gourmet. (Gregory does have a more developed palate than his dad, mostly thanks to Simon.) Simon makes their curried chicken salad very traditionally, while his love interest makes a version more like mine, which if you have the easily-preserved component parts comes together extremely quickly.

(As I move the dish gently away from the traditional coronation chicken and into something more uniquely Shivadh, I'll probably need to incorporate some backstory into its development -- traditional chicken salad in a heavily Jewish culture wouldn't use dairy in a meat sauce, for example. Most of the royal family doesn't keep super-strict kosher, but they did in the past, and Jerry's family still does.)

I've got a bunch of chicken in the freezer, and I think the next time I make coronation chicken I'm going to try sous-vide; the above video calls for poached chicken breast but the recipe I generally use calls for rotisserie chicken, and honestly I usually make coronation chicken from whatever I've stripped off a roast chicken after eating on it for a day or two. I'll be interested to see what a sous-vide chicken breast might add or detract in terms of texture.

[imsofuckingdonewiththisgoddamn]

When Our Stars Cross Paths; II Treech x Mentor!Reader

Pairing: Treech x Mentor!Reader

Word Count: 2.6k

Warnings: None

Sweet Angels🪻: @nemesii @mrsyixingunicorn10 @chmpgneprblem

You had no reason to be this nervous.

That’s what you tried to convince yourself as you added the finishing touches to your outfit-a pair of teardrop shaped garnet earrings and an array of silver rings. You brought your hands down to smooth out your olive green dress, opting against wearing the flashy uniforms of the Academy.

The train carrying the tributes was due to arrive at the station in just under an hour, yet you had failed to get yourself to leave the comfort of your apartment. You wrote it off as being a perfectionist and wanting to make sure you embodied the glamour that was the Capitol. But you knew the truth deep down…

You were terrified.

Despite your outwardly confident and bold persona, you had always chased validation from anyone who would give it to you. After you had started expressing your distaste for the Capitol’s vision of the Hunger Games, your parents had almost seemed to forget you existed. Preferring to ignore you than to come to terms with the fact that their daughter was a district sympathizer.

So as you touched up your eyeliner, you started brainstorming ways you could win over Treech’s trust. You knew he wasn’t going to be pleased to have to talk to any Capitol citizen, especially after what you saw of him during the Reapings. The resentment, the bitterness, the disgust.

However Treech hadn’t been the only person who garnered your interest. The girl from District 12, Lucy Gray had put on a spectacular performance following her reaping. Despite her misfortune, she had shown an impressive amount of spunk and moxie. Something that immediately made you gain respect for the younger girl. Coriolanus, who had originally been displeased at being selected as her mentor, had reveled in the attention his tribute gathered, which had transferred over to him. That was the thing about Coriolanus, he loved people who benefited him. You could tell from the mere way he pretended to tolerate Sejanus’s presence. Tight lipped smiles and strained conversation, Snow wasn’t always the most discreet about his true feelings. No matter how many times the district boy tried to convince you of Coriolanus, your opinion hadn’t been swayed. You knew that deep down, the blonde had a small hope of working his way into Mr. Plinth’s good graces through Sejanus. He was a leech, as your grandmother would’ve said.

Gathering your canvas bag—which was filled to the brim with chicken salad sandwiches, water bottles, various fruits you had gathered from your kitchen, and freshly baked pastries, you made your way to the front door. Although you were only given the task of taking care of one tribute, it felt inhumane to only bring food for Treech. After hearing how some of your classmates reacted to their “unlucky picks”, you knew some—if not most of them wouldn’t bother to show up.

The walk to the train station helped to settle some of your anxieties. You adored the outdoors, and wished the Capitol had spared some of their natural forests and mountains instead of urbanizing every square foot of land they could take. The land that had remained untouched however, had been combed over by you, memorizing every blade of grass and every species of bird you came across. Many mornings where you allowed yourself to skip class had been spent taking nature walks with Sejanus, and even Clemmie and Lysistrata when they gave in to your pleading.

Despite your “radical ideals”, you still took pleasure in the company of several of your fellow peers. Before Sejanus moved to the Capitol, you, Lyzzie, and Clemmie had formed an unofficial friend group, spending your school days before the war weaving flower crowns and hosting elegant tea parties. Even now the three of you took care to ensure the longevity of your sisterhood, organizing girls’ days where you binged outlawed romcoms and ordered from whatever takeout sounded the most appetizing. This wasn’t to say they were your only friends, you and Diana were both fond of atronomy, and partnered with each other whenever the topic arose during class. And Festus had been known to forge late slips for you after one of your morning excursions, in exchange for some of your homeade sweets. Even Arachne, as stuck up and anti-district as she was, held a significant amount of respect for you, which you reciprocated. Both of you admired the other’s bluntness and unwavering loyalty to their respective opinions.

Your blissful reflection of your youth was interrupted by a rather grim thought, or rather a reality check. Twenty three kids were going to die. And while you had the privilege to lose yourself in your imagination of the freedom and opportunity you would be granted once you graduated from the academy, you had spared barely a single thought to the pour souls you were about to come face-to-face with. The weight of your bag pulling down on your shoulder eased some of your guilt. You couldn’t save them, but you could ensure they were well taken care of until the bitter end.

As you approached the entrance to the train station, you caught glimpse of a bright vermillion coat. The same coat you had chosen to bury deep in your wardrobe, in favor of a more approachable summer dress. Suddenly refreshed from the excitement of meeting another student, your pace picked up and you rushed around the corner to see which of your peers had had a similar idea to yours. Though to your dismay, you were greeted by the out of breath face of none other than Coriolanus Snow. He gripped a white rose firmly in his hand, his Academy uniform sticking out like a sore thumb against the muted colors of the train station. The peculiar color of the rose indicated he must’ve convinced his grandmother or ‘Grandma’am’ as he and Tigris affectionately referred to her as, to pluck one of her precious roses from her rooftop garden.

While you weren’t a fan of Coriolanus himself, the feeling didn’t extend to the rest of the Snow family. Tigris, his cousin was a stylist—though a heavily taken advantage one, at the boutique you often frequented with Clemmie and Lyzzie on your girls’ trips. The older cousin possessed a sweet and docile demeanor that made you instantly fond of her, often stopping by at the boutique for minor readjustments that you could’ve easily fixed on your own, just for the opportunity to converse with the tall blonde. You learned a lot about the Snow family from these visits; from Coriolanus’s childhood nickname, Coryo—which you found to be endearing despite his character, to the financial struggles they had burdened since they were both orphaned during the war. These small glimpses into the boy’s life had slightly altered the way you saw him. While you would never be able to trust the boy or let alone build a rapport with him, you sympathized with his struggles and hardships.

Lifting your gaze from your bulky canvas bag to the blonde boy standing in front of you, you offered him a gentle smile. Maybe he was maturing after all. Nobody else had bothered to show up for their tribute, not even Sejanus, thought that was most likely due to the dread of having to come face-to-face with a former classmate who viewed him as a traitor.

Coriolanus returned your gesture, though a bit more forced and strained on his part. His eyes were darting back and forth all around the train station, most likely looking for the train that would be pulling in any second now carrying the tributes.

Carrying Treech.

Your quickly spiraling thoughts were interrupted by a throat clearing. You turned to face Coriolanus, who looked as if he was about to speak to you, when the deafening sound of a train horn sounded from down at the end of one of the tunnels.

It was now or never.

Quickly making your way towards the edge of the tracks where the train was currently pulling in, you shuffled your canvas bag from one shoulder to the other. Suddenly quite fearful of the interactions that were about to take place. You hadn’t thought of if they had food allergies or not?? What if one of them was vegetarian?? Could you afford to be vegetarian in the districts?? Before your thoughts could spiral any further, a great fume of smoke erupted from the front of the train, the grand locomotive coming to a complete stop just feet in front of you. Snow wasted no time maneuvering around you and making his way to the back of the train cars, where Lucy Gray was bound to get off. You however, stayed where you were, rocking on the heels of your mary janes as you waited for the tributes from District one to disembark. You had managed to snag a sheet off of Dean Highbottom that contained a list of all the tributes names and their respective districts when he was to intoxicated to notice. A quick glance at your cheat sheet reassured your slight qualms over forgetting their names, Facet and Velvereen.

After a brief few moments of anticipation, the doors of the car flew open and two dirty sickly looking teenagers in matching white cardigans hobbled onto the platform. Facet going first and turning around to offer his assistance to Velvereen, a gesture which she gladly accepted. This small act of chivalry seemed to restore your confidence, and before you could think, your feet were moving towards the pair. A determined smile creeping up onto your face.

“Hi! Are either of you two hungry?”

The pair quickly spun around, eyes wide and startled as if they were frightened by the mere sound of your voice. Getting a good look at their faces for the first time, they looked quite different than the grainy images you had seen from a distance in the Academy. Facet’s golden hair was matted after days of travel, and Velvereen’s heart shaped face was rounded with a softness that made appear to be much younger than she actually was.

Sliding the canvas bag off your shoulder, you held out the bag for them. Offering the goodies and an encouraging smile.

Facet was the first to reach in, hesitantly pulling out a cherry danish before ultimately backing away. After catching a glimpse of the sweets her partner had pulled out, she deemed you safe enough to approach and reached in to grab two water bottles. A peacekeeper then approached, ushering the two to keep moving across the station. They were quick to scatter off, but not before Velvereen sent a soft smile your way.

Making your way down to the next train car, you were met by Marcus and his district partner, Sabyn, both looking weary and confused as they hopped onto the platform.

“Sandwiches? Water?” You offered, slightly intimidated by Marcus’s muscular stature. Sabyn didn’t seem to hold any of the hesitation the pair from District one had, and quickly reached in to grab two sandwiches and a brownie wrapped in tinfoil. She passed one of the sandwiches off to Marcus, and while he eyed you from where he stood, he quickly scarfed the sandwich without a complaint. Sabyn took her time, gently unwrapping the warm brownie from the tinfoil, almost as if she was scared it would disappear if she moved too fast. Once unwrapped, she too quickly ate her food, a satisfied sigh escaping her lips as her hand went towards the bag for a second. However, just as her hand grazed the canvas material, she seemed to recoil as if the bag was burning to the touch.

“It’s okay, you’re more than welcome to take a second.” You were beyond relieved that you were able to provide some sort of comfort after what appeared to be an exhausting journey. Meekly, Sabyn allowed herself to reach back into the bag, this time pulling out a slice of carrot cake. She quickly stowed the sandwich and baked good in her pocket before turning to Marcus, waiting to see if he would take anything. He shook his head, already paranoid at the vulnerability they were displaying to this stranger. Sabyn seemed disappointed by his reluctance but still gave a polite thank you before turning back to walk towards her partner.

Time seemed to fly as you made your way down the cars, stopping at each one to offer your depleting bag. The pair from District three seemed skeptical, but in the end the boy, Circ took a water bottle before the two were pulled away by peacekeepers. Coral from District four was put on defense as soon as you approached, but backed down when she saw how weary her district partner, Mizzen looked. The boy who couldn’t have been older than thirteen, shot out towards the bag after Coral gave him a nod of approval, ultimately grabbing a sandwich and chocolate chip cookie which seemed to intrigue him greatly. Coral gave a curt but polite thank you as she protectively led the now buzzing boy away. Hy and Sol from District five were too dehydrated to be cautious of the welcoming stranger before them, and immediately pulled out two water bottles which they proceeded to down in a few desperate gulps. You smiled at their eagerness and pulled out a few berry danishes, offering them to Hy who had finished his water first and was now wiping his mouth with the back of his dirty jacket. He gave a quick glance to Sol, who nodded encouragingly to him. He gingerly took the pastries, offering a dimpled smile before he and Sol were ushered across the platform. You moved down to the car which contained the pair from District six, Otto and Ginnee. While both appeared to be dehydrated and emaciated, they ultimately refused anything from the canvas bag, scattering off after being startled by a peacekeeper yelling a few meters away from the three of them. Shifting the bag back onto your shoulder, you made your way down to the next car, coming to a halt as you realized who you would be met by…

The doors to the car banged open, and a teary eyed girl you recognized as Lamina appeared in the shadows. The sight of you sent a small whimper to escape from her lips and the redhead quickly vanished back into the shadows as another face emerged.

Treech looked to be almost a completely different person than the one you remembered from the Reapings. His eyes no longer wide and fearful, but rather sharp and observant. His dark curls were still hidden underneath the worn out hat, and his well defined jawline twitched as he looked out across the station, not paying any particular attention to you. After a brief scanning he hopped down onto the platform, turning around to offer his hand to Lamina in a similar fashion to that of Facet. Lamina gingerly took his hand slightly stumbling off onto the platform as she braced herself against Treech’s shoulders. Now deciding that this would be the time to introduce yourself as his mentor, you cleared your throat before approaching the pair.

Lamina who had already noticed you, cowered behind Treech, very much still on edge from the Reapings as well as the train ride. Confused at Lamina’s sudden fright, Treech turned to see what had scared her, and was slightly shocked to see that it was not a peacekeeper or another tribute, but rather a girl.

“Hi, You must be Treech! i’m Y/N, your mentor!”

A/N

Sorry there isn’t as much Treech content this chapter as y’all probably wanted 😭. I don’t want to rush this series and want to spend the first few chapters really building the MC’s background. The good news is that my classes are dying down for winter break and i’ll be posting A LOT in the coming weeks, might even post a third chapter tomorrow 😌.

Would you guys like me to make a playlist to go along with this? Or mood boards?

xoxo

[sovietpostcards]

Hi, would you mind sharing a recipe for authentic Olivier Salad?

If by authentic you mean the 19th century French chef salad with langoustine - I have no idea. :) However, here's the cheapest and most basic recipe of the olivye salad also known as Russian salad.

Ingredients:

boiled potatoes

bologna

canned peas

cucumbers (fresh or salted/preserved)

hardboiled eggs

(optional) boiled carrots

mayo

Use about the same amount of each ingredient, customized to your liking.

Tips:

Potatoes are boiled in jacket and later pealed.

Bologna can be swapped for boiled chicken meat, boiled beef or another sort of meat. The most typical kind of bologna to use is Doktorskaya sausage.

Cucumbers can be fresh or preserved (salted in brine). Pickles (with vinegar) are not generally used.

Carrot is very optional and there are wars about it in each family. I personally hate boiled carrots in olivye.

Add some chopped spring onions or dill if you like.

Cut everything in cubes, mix and generously add mayo.

Ingredients can be prepared (boiled) on the day before you make the salad.

This meme makes a good recipe card. :)

PS: the name Russian salad is not used in Russia

[dadvans]

memorial day

Memorial Day is always the Monday to end all Mondays, year after year. Buck discovers it’s a little bit better when you have a guy waiting for you after a stupid shift and you both get to trade war stories.

Tommy greets him with a kiss and presses two beers from a six pack to his hands when Buck lets him in, then walks over to the kitchen to put the other four away.

“I don’t know about you, but my stupidest call today was putting out a brush fire caused by a gender reveal party. You’d think after El Dorado people would fucking learn, but holiday weekends always bring out the idiots.” He opens the refrigerator door and spots the saran wrapped plate Buck left there for him. “Or maybe you had a much better day than me. Bobby cook?”

“No, uh, actually,” Buck says, hunting for the church key in the drawer behind him. “My stupidest call of the day would be the neighborhood barbecue brawl that broke out. Three guys arguing over who would man the grill. The backyard seemed salvageable when we left, but one guy’s face not so much after another dad tried to give it the smash burger treatment on an open flame. Some families were so embarrassed they actually sent us home with leftovers. I was able to weasel out a second plate for you.”

“Evan.” Tommy takes the plate out and stares down at it with a confused little smile, what Buck has taken to calling his Who Me? face in his head.

“It wasn’t hard, pretty sure Athena and Maddie and Karen got one too. Anyway, you should try the potato salad. Apparently, it’s grandma’s famous recipe.”

Buck cracks the caps off both of their beers and replaces the church key with a fork for Tommy. Tommy gives him another look before digging in. One bite of potato salad in and his eyes are rolling back in his head.

“Fuck, I love you,” he says, meaningfully at the plate and not at Buck.

Buck laughs. “Wings aren’t bad either. Cole slaw I can do better.”

“Sure,” Tommy replies graciously. He picks up a chicken wing and has the meat practically sucked off the bone in two bites. “I can’t remember the last time I spent one of these actually getting to enjoy part of it.”

Later, after Buck gets him to wipe the buffalo sauce off the corner of his mouth, Tommy gets on his knees for Buck and shows him exactly how grateful he is with a fairly luxurious blowjob. Buck comes down the back of his throat and slurs out a thank you for your service, to which Tommy playfully flips him off. And he’s no potato salad, Tommy didn’t need to say it, but he’s feeling pretty loved too.

[sanjoongie]

Tennis Club Wars

✯Pairings: Seonghwa x Yunho x Reader (f) x Wooyoung

✯Genre: smut

✯Trope: strangers to lovers

✯Au: Tennis Club Au

✯Word Count: 1,077

✯Rating: 18+ MDNI

✯Warnings: foursome, slight mxm, oral (m receiving), anal (f receiving), penetrative sex with no barrier, m & f orgasm

✯Summary: when you become the object of a tennis court war because three members of a club want to fuck you...

✯Dedication: @downtoamagicalland you absolutely tortured me with this idea, please! & @mejuii for reading it over and confirming how hot everything was 🤩

If anyone had told you that you would be the subject of a tennis club war, you’d tell them they were crazy and laugh in their face. But it was true. Nouveau riche and looking to fit in, you applied to a country club and began to take up tennis. It was doing wonders for toning your thighs and you adored the way a tennis skirt whirled around you when you twirled, but the true benefit was the club members.

Yunho, Seonghwa and Wooyoung all had their eyes on you. Of course, since you were new, like a shiny toy, they all wanted to be the first to try you out. But the dispute became heated and then it became a throwdown. You eyed them with wariness when they played in the court beside you. You were doing your best to follow your instructor's guidance but meanwhile, all you could focus on was the grunts as they smacked an incoming ball with their racket or a flash of thigh as they ran across the court.

Unable to come to a decision, read: Yunho continued to win majority of the matches, which didn’t sit well with Seonghwa, who then took it out on Wooyoung, the three of them decided to approach you as the tiebreaker. 

You had been sitting on the veranda under an umbrella sipping a mixed drink and eating a spicy chicken salad, when they all took a seat introducing themselves. 

“You see--” Yunho steepled his fingers together and leaned onto the table. Your eyes focused on his muscles cordoning tightly.

“We all kinda wanna fuck you,” Wooyoung revealed, tongue caught between his teeth.

“Jung!” Seonghwa scolded the younger friend, even going as far as smacking Wooyoung behind the head.

Yunho couldn't help but laugh. “That’s basically the gist of it. So, if you had to pick one of us, who would it be?”

Seonghwa’s wide, babydoll eyes watched you with avid interest, Wooyoung’s face still spoke of mischief and Yunho had a friendly and happy disposition about him. But if you were being honest with yourself, you had already asked yourself that question every day since they had been warring over you, and you had only come to one conclusion:

“Couldn’t we just have a foursome?” You suggested.

Seonghwa looked like you had just slapped him, Yunho acquired a pout and Wooyoung looked intrigued. “Oh hello, are you secretly a freak?” Wooyoung said with a raised eyebrow.

A confident smile pulled your lips upwards. “So what if I am? Are you in or out? I don’t feel like breaking up a friend group. Let’s just all fuck.”

The three exchanged looks, unsure if this was a trap or a genuine offer. You laughed under your breath. “Not used to a female offering up a foursome, huh?”

Seonghwa’s expression became a bit painful but he laughed. “Not really.”

“I’m in,” Wooyoung agreed immediately.

Seonghwa looked worried so he agreed immediately. Then all the focus was on Yunho. His arms were over his chest now and he did not look like a happy camper. “Well, if it means we get to fuck you…” reluctantly agreeing as a result.

You made a group chat for planning, which was even odder in of itself, but Yunho only became more and more bratty as the place and time were set. The only final detail to settle was who was taking what hole. Seonghwa begged, and sent photo proof of his pretty dick, so he got your pussy. Wooyoung said he’d take any hole, honestly. But Yunho was so bratty that you decided he could take your mouth and Wooyoung would end up with your ass.

So Seonghwa laid out on his back as you took him in your cunt first,chest to chest, his eyebrows furrowing and biting down on your lip. Seonghwa’s legs were hanging off the bed, where Wooyoung stood, looking to enter your puckered hole next. Wooyoung groaned loudly, patting your ass to soothe you, as he stretched it out with some well-applied lube. Yunho looked like he didn’t want to admit he was hard over this scenario but still shuffled up to Seonghwa’s side, holding his dick out for your sweet mouth.

The rhythm was hard to figure out but it wound up that Seonghwa would thrust upwards, hand on the small of your back to hold you in place, and when he receded, Wooyoung would push into your other hole. The enthusiastic thrusting of Wooyoung, who was whining about how your ass was tighter than anything he had ever felt, pushed you down on Yunho’s cock, who was still trying to look like he wasn’t having a good time. And it worked for a while until it became a sloppy mess of moans and fluids.

“Shit, fuck, shit,” Wooyoung began to curse. “I’m claiming this ass, this ass is mine!” He shouted, slapping your ass for good measure.

The slap made you cry out, even with Yunho in your mouth, but it also made you clench down on Seonghwa, who wasn’t faring any better. “Fuck, watch it Wooyoung!” Seonghwa protested, his grip on your waist getting tighter.

Yunho, was oddly enough, the first to come, holding you down on his length as he shot down your throat, throwing his head back in ecstasy. Wooyoung was next, filling your backside with his cum, slowly pulling out to watch his cum seep out of your stretched hole. Seonghwa was last, but not too far behind Wooyoung, because he got even more turned on when Wooyoung’s cum added lube to his own dick. You went over the edge with Seonghwa’s final enthusiastic thrust making you moan like a whore, coming almost as loudly as Wooyoung. All you knew is that your whole body felt well used and you were happy you suggested the foursome.

You laid against Seonghwa’s chest, collapsed really, as he petted your hair fondly. “So…this isn’t going to be a one time thing, right?” He laughed awkwardly.

“I’m in,” Wooyoung agreed, patting your ass, and making you wince. He really had slapped it pretty hard. 

Yunho was back to pouting, making Wooyoung roll his eyes. “Oh come on Yunho, you came first, we all know you liked it.” Wooyoung, to make his point, reached over and tweaked Yunho’s nipple, making him cry out.

Yunho frowned intensely, slapping Wooyoung’s hands away. “Fine! But only because I don’t want you two fucking her without me.”

“Yeah, okay,” Wooyoung mocked Yunho.

Tag List: @hijirikaww @flowerboykun @flurrys-creativity @mingsolo @stardragongalaxy

Special suffering tag: @smallfrye

[mariacallous]

My father was a short-order cook, a strictly stovetop kind of guy. Israeli salads and scrambled eggs. I never saw him approach the lower half of the oven, except to clean it within an inch of its life. It would take me until my 30s to realize that he did not grow up with anything like the ovens we had in Canada, and that there wasn’t much in his childhood home to place in a stove. 

He was born in Mandatory Palestine in 1936 to Yemenite parents, who themselves were born in Ottoman Palestine. All four of his grandparents left Yemen in 1881 in what was known as the First Yishuv. 

For my father, an oven was a primus — a portable camping stove that uses kerosene or paraffin oil. As a 12-year-old boy during the 1948 War of Independence, he ate grass and weeds (mostly mallow, known as kubezeh) that he had to forage for himself. So, on balance, his short-order cooking made sense. 

When I grew up and moved to Israel and other new immigrants asked me about my background, my father’s lack of culinary skills became a source of repeated disappointment. 

You must have had tons of jachnun and zhug? 

More like zero. 

I thought you said he was Yemenite. 

My father did put an awful lot of Mexican salsa on everything from spaghetti to chicken, and ate onions like apples for breakfast, but Jewish food for me was Ashkenazi all the way. Well, you can’t go back.

Recently, I introduced a new dialogue project with my EFL (English as a Foreign Language) college students (anything to get them talking). Each student had to film herself discussing her favorite family recipe. I teach in Jerusalem and my students come from a range of backgrounds that include Morocco, Algeria, Syria, Ethiopia, Russia and France. 

Occasionally I have a student with a Yemenite background. This particular student, we’ll call her Shira, introduced her recipe by stressing how often she eats it at home, and how delicious and nutritious it was, particularly for keeping on weight. This made sense as Yemen was (and still is) a very poor country, and many of their recipes are inexpensive and calorie dense, something important in an undernourished population. 

Then, to my amazement, Shira described my father’s “hot cereal” recipe, as I had always called it. He used to mention that his mother made it for him year-round, including on Passover, but I took that to mean it was a family recipe, not a Yemenite Jewish one. 

My father made this for me on the rare winter mornings when he was not off to work before I woke up. I remember the satisfied look on his face as he stirred and stirred groats, tossing out tidbits about his mother and his life in pre-state Israel like rare coins while he watched butter melt into the milk. He wasn’t much of a talker when it came to his past, but perhaps the familiar smell loosened his tongue. 

For a few minutes, I would be drawn into his world of a mother who sold her own saluf (Yemenite flatbread) and zhug to passersby for extra money and chatted in both Arabic and Yiddish, rather than my usual stance, which was “Why can’t he be like all of the other fathers in my Jewish school and pull out the AlphaBits and Fruit Loops?” Nowadays, this recipe is a family favorite, particularly on Passover and if we are having sleepover guests on Shabbat. 

I remember Shira’s surprise when I told her I was familiar with this recipe and thanked her for choosing it as her assignment. Turns out my birthright wasn’t entirely lost to me, it just took me longer than most to realize it. Better late than never. 

Cooking notes 

This recipe is endlessly adaptable:

My kids prefer it with half a cup less water and half a cup more milk. Some people omit the milk, just as they would for oatmeal. 

I’ve seen recipes that add a teaspoon of sugar and margarine instead of butter, though I’ve never tried it. 

On Passover, we substitute crushed matzah for groats or wheat. 

On Shabbat, we bake this mix in a jachnun pot on a low heat (225°F or 100°C) overnight in the oven for cold Saturday mornings, which yields a very soft mixture.

[dimetrodone]

More thoughts on GtN as I read it

I know it’s silly to complain about the Worldbuilding in this book because I think it’s fundamentally not about the setting. It feels like it largely just exists as context for it’s characters, which is fine as an approach and even in this book I don’t think it’s a deal breaker in of itself.

For me the setting is in this awkward position where it feels simultaneously overly indulgent while also oddly dispassionate. Books being indulgent in its subject matter can be a good thing when you really feel the love for it, or it’s sparking creativity in it. The necromancy, the space setting, the houses and the sword fighting feel like they were all included to be cool, but doesn’t seem interested in exploring those things farther then that (even at the potential at making it *cooler*).

I’m less bothered by there being sword fights in a setting with space ships then I am with how it’s not built upon. Something like Dune goes out of its way to come up with an in universe reason for the use of melee weapons, something like Star Wars aesthetically combines the sword with its aesthetic and makes it a laser sword instead. MAYBE there’s some sort of explanation in later books, but right now they just don’t mesh in a way that’s interesting to me.

I’ve mentioned this before, but the humour being almost entirely built on characters swearing and modern references is a shame, the setting’s conflict between necromancy hell planets 1000 years in the future is full of silly dark comedy potential. I’m less mad at there being meme references as I am mad that there is more references to memes then skeleton comedy somehow. Perhaps in later books it gets better and there’s more weird skeleton comedy tho I can’t fully judge it now.

If the setting was more of a completely off the wall “kitchen sink” setting with no rules it might work more for me, just feels like a salad made from only chicken strips and marshmallows.

[iliveforyouilongforyouvesuvia]

The Arcana HCs: MC makes M6 breakfast in bed

Part 2 is here:

Julian

So excited when he sees what you're bringing him that he nearly upsets the breakfast tray

"This is for me? Really?? I love you. I love you so much MC."

He's secretly checking to make sure you included some coffee because the excitement will only last him so long and he needs to be awake for this

Legit might start crying when you hand him the biggest mug of the strongest stuff on the market

Will pull you into bed to keep him company while he eats

Over the top compliments on every dish

"This toast is beautiful. Best toast I've ever had. It's a good thing you only made enough for me or people would fight wars for this toast. Look at the beautiful detailing along the edge! I should write a sonnet for this crust."

Squabbled with Malak over the crumbs

Will brag about it to anyone who will listen

Asra

You knew to put the tray down nearby before waking him up because it takes a while

Rumpled and drowsy and so charmed by your affection he keeps forgetting to eat at first

Only digs in once you're snuggled in next to them

They insist on feeding you every other bite

Faust has her own diet but she's intrigued with all the dishes in the bed

She curls up around the teapot because it's warm and now it's impossible to have more tea because she looks so happy neither of you wants to disturb her

After you wash up the breakfast dishes together he'll insist on taking on some of your daily duties in return

Nadia

At first she thinks you just requested breakfast be brought to her chambers and you felt like carrying the tray yourself

Until she notices that the fruit is unevenly sliced and there's a salad fork next to her eggs

Very deeply honored

Takes her time to savor each bite, putting on her best manners for you

Is it as good as the professional palace chef? No, but MC made it with their own two hands, therefore it could not be better

Lots of thoughtful compliments

She's especially pleased with the small silver bowl of Chandra-safe food you included so she could join you two from the windowsill

You'll be receiving an invitation to her gazebo later for the finest afternoon tea she could plan

Muriel

We know he got through a lot of his early childhood by trying to sleep off the hunger, so you can imagine how special it is for him to wake up to your smiling face and a heaping plate of food in the comfort of his own bed

Good luck being awake before him though, he wakes up at dawn to feed the chickens

Doesn't have many words that early in the morning, so he'll very carefully accept your gift with a small, sleepy smile

He won't start eating until he knows you've been properly fed

Not everything on the tray is breakfast food, because you're on a mission to feed him all the dishes he never tried growing up

You spent all of the previous afternoon in the marketplace visiting each food vendor for their best menu item

You gave Innana so many treats to guard it outside the hut overnight and not tell Muriel about it

He insists on doing the breakfast dishes so you can go back to sleep, you were up before the sun was after all

Portia

Squeals

Not gonna lie, you were kind of worried about the food you had to offer since Portia is one of Vesuvia's best bakers

Which is why you enlisted Mazelinka's help to make something she wouldn't find in the palace

It's close enough to the real thing that she recognizes it almost immediately and gets a little teary eyed

Talking with her mouth full about how you two are going to take classes from Mazelinka together

"I didn't realize how much I missed this until I smelled it MC, thank you so much! I need to learn how to make this now."

There is also a small bowl of cold chicken and catnip tea for Pepi

You and Portia watch her drink it and dissolve into giggles when she gets high off of it

Rubs it in Ilya's face next time she sees him that she has a super awesome MC who makes her breakfast in bed

Lucio

He didn't want to wake up at first, but the breakfast is a good bargain

Doesn't realize that you're the one who made it until you tell him

"Why didn't you say so? Of course you would though, I'm - we're - the best!"

Invites Mercedes and Melchior onto the bed to partake in the feast

"You'd better be grateful, MC made this with their own two hands."

There are crumbs everywhere, you'll have to change the sheets later

He really is grateful though, every now and then he'll look over at you and blush amidst all the chaos

By lunchtime he's forgotten about it

[sanguineterrain]

HI Sanne!! SO excited about your celebration! <3 Congratulations on 600, omg. Well deserved.

My prompt req is: Steve x fem!reader, maybe best friend or neighbor, or Bucky's sister perhaps? He came home from the Army v serious, v closed off to everyone, but he's compulsively showing his concern about her, ie. something like tugging her elbow so she doesn't trip, giving up his coffee cup for her use, putting himself between her and a creep at the bar, etc. Something pushes him over the edge and she calls him on it. (sumthin like that ;) <3)

𝟒𝟎𝐬!𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐯𝐞 𝐫𝐨𝐠𝐞𝐫𝐬 𝐱 𝐟𝐞𝐦!𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

lord i am sorry. i meant to answer this months ago and it is such a fabulous prompt, kate, but the writer's brain just didn't want to cooperate. ANYWAY, i finished it, two hundred followers later. hope i did it justice <3 please have an angsting stevie and a sweetheart reader:

****

"'Scuse me, sorry—" you squeezed past a couple of old ladies who side-eyed you, stepping away. The bulky food trays certainly weren't improving matters, and no one seemed too keen on helping. 

That was alright. The neighborhood hadn't had a block party in years and now that the war was over, people were in high spirits. You didn't expect them to pay attention to the woman shuffling around potato salad and cottage pie. 

"Y/N!" 

Loretta bounced over, eagerly taking the foil off a tray and helping herself. You wobbled, just barely setting down said tray before she dug in.

"You bring the best potlucks,” she gushed around a mouthful.

"Thanks, Lor. Are you enjoying yourself?" 

Loretta was your perky downstairs neighbor who liked to chat for far too long while getting her mail. But she was nice enough and you'd never wish her any ill will, especially since she helped set up tents for tonight. 

"Oh, sure. You know who I saw?" 

"Who?"

She grinned, expression turning dreamy. 

"James Barnes. We're going dancing Friday."

You blinked, hands falling to your sides. 

"Bucky’s back?" 

"Mmhm! Is this chicken?"

"Beef. When did he return?" 

You wracked your brain trying to think if you'd seen him. Bucky was back… did that mean Steve was too? 

"Nearly a week ago," Loretta chirped. "He's so handsome in his uniform."

"I'm sure. What about Steve?"

Loretta clapped her hands together, forgetting the food for a moment.  

"Oh, you mean Captain America? Of course he is. Haven't you seen him yet? Nearly everyone on the block wants to meet him. I've got a sister in Syracuse who's dog mad I get to see him everyday."

Loretta scooped herself a large helping of potato salad, then pointed with her fork. 

"He's over by the fence, talking to Maria Donaldson. Her father's a senator, you know. Not too shabby, huh?" 

"Oh," you replied quietly. "Right. Good for him. I'm, um, gonna go check on the desserts."

You hurried away, going straight for the rows of pies. You'd been one of the people to organize the party originally, mainly food. You busied yourself with cutting and serving slices, not daring to look the Donaldsons' way. 

"Do you have blueberry?" asked a short, stout man with thinning hair. You shook your head. 

"No, sorry. We have apple, chocolate, lemon, banana cream…"

"Why didn't you make blueberry?" 

"No one brought it this year. At the next block party, I'll make a suggestion…"

"You broads have one job,” he sneered, crowding you and the table. “The least you could do—"

"Is there a problem?" 

Steve was in a checkered button down, hair neatly combed back. He’d always been handsome, with his sweet blue eyes and pink cheeks. Perfect for a senator's daughter.

He stepped between you two, blocking you from view. You peeked around one giant shoulder as he stared down your heckler.  

"This girl and her bridge club forgot the goddamn blueberry pie."

Steve straightened, gaining at least another inch in height. 

"The lady worked very hard on this event and provided plenty of great food. You can find something else. If not, you'll leave." 

“Who the hell do you think you are? I’m a part of this neighborhood and—”

“And this party is a privilege,” Steve cut in, stance wide. “Do we understand each other?”

How different this Steve was compared to the upstairs neighbor you remembered. He’d never backed down, ever, but now, people listened.

The man grumbled. Steve didn’t flinch, and after deciding he didn't feel like getting his ass handed to him by Captain America, the asshole snatched a piece of lemon pie. 

"Thank her," said Steve, easy as anything. "She didn't have to give it to you."

The veins on the man's forehead bulged as Steve coolly stared him down. 

"Thank you," the man said gruffly, then stalked off. 

Steve turned as you walked around the table. You offered a tentative smile. He returned it, dimmer than you remembered. 

"Hi, Steve."

"Hey. Are you alright?"

You nodded. "I'm fine. That was…" 

"He won't bother you again."

You wrung your hands. Steve stood ramrod straight, arms behind his back. The smile was gone as quickly as it appeared.

"Welcome back," you offered. 

"Thank you." 

"I'm glad you're home. You and Bucky."

Steve nodded, gaze softening. He looked exhausted.

"It's good to see you, Y/N."

You gestured to the table. 

"Pie? There's tons. Or um…" 

You crouched to pull out the cinnamon cake you'd made specially for the end of the night. 

"I'm technically saving this for after the fireworks," you confessed with a laugh, "but, do you want some? You like cinnamon cake, don’t you?" 

You didn't need to reveal that you may or may not have made this for in case you saw Steve. 

"Oh. No, I don't want to cut into it if it's for everyone."

You smiled, tilting your head. 

"No one will know, Steve. I know it's your favorite."

"I'll wait. Thank you, though."

You chewed the inside of your cheek, nodding. The Steve from before would've happily accepted a slice. 

"Have you eaten anything?" 

"Yeah, I've been at the booths down the block. It's a great event you organized, Y/N, seriously."

"Oh, well, it wasn't just me," you shrugged. "Plenty of people helped."

"You put it together, though. Only you would keep everybody's spirits up like this."

"People deserve it." You deserve it.

"Y/N! Can you bring these over to the Brigleys' booth?" 

Loretta suddenly heaved several trays into your arms. You staggered briefly, balancing the weight. 

"Oh, Captain!" she squealed, pushing past. "So good to see you! Well, that serum really did a number, huh? Golly."

Steve's expression was tight. "Ma'am."

Loretta giggled. "Look at that. Ma'am. Army shaped you right up." 

"Uh, Loretta," you began loudly, smile tight. "Isn't that your cousin talking to Bucky over there?" 

Loretta whipped her head around, scowling. 

"I'm never inviting her to something again, I swear!" she snapped, stomping away. 

Steve bowed his head, biting back a smile. You giggled, adjusting your grip on the trays. 

"Tell Bucky I'll give him an extra cinnamon cake as an apology."

Steve snorted. "He'll be just fine. Jumped right back into the swing of things."

"And you?"

His gaze flicked up to you. 

"I don't know," he finally confessed.

"Y/N!" Mrs. Brigley waved from down the street, gesturing to the trays.

"Yes, Mrs. Brigley. Be right there!" 

You took a step forward. Immediately, your knees buckled, shoes catching on uneven pavement, the weight too much. Steve surged forward, catching the pans with one arm and holding your waist with the other. You inhaled sharply at the feel of his warm hand plastered over your ribs. He set the pans down, searching your face as he goaded you to a chair. 

"Steve—"

"I'll be right back,” he said firmly. “Stay there, rest. You've been on your feet too long."

Though the words were a Captain's order, his tone was tender. You nodded, watching as he went and scooped up the pans like they were nothing, jogging to Mrs. Brigley. She, of course, wanted to chat, because everyone wanted a piece of Steve now. And why wouldn't they? Steve was golden, always had been. It wasn't fair of you to want him to yourself. You had no claim on him; not before, and not now. 

"Finally, you're here. The recycling by the stop sign needs to be taken out." 

An older woman, holding an entire pie you were pretty sure she did not make, stood before you, waiting expectantly. You sighed, plastering on a smile. 

"Sure. Thank you for informing me."

She hobbled away, probably to go steal more food, while you went to wrap up the bag, pulling it out of the bin. You dragged it out and down the sidewalk towards the small alley with the recycling bins. It wasn't as well lit and you tried to avoid stepping on the broken bottles and trash that littered the cement. As you lifted the lid and heaved the bag in, quick footsteps approached, crunching glass. 

"Y/N? Jesus. Are you okay?"

"Steve?" You closed the lid, your face a question mark as he neared. "What's wrong? Did something happen to the booths?" 

"You shouldn't be here by yourself. It's dark and you could cut yourself."

You blinked. "Steve, it's less than fifty feet away from the street. I think I'll be okay."

He closed his eyes briefly, swallowing, chest rising and falling too fast. For a moment, you feared an asthma attack, something you'd witnessed quite a few times. 

"Hey, hey. What's going on?" you asked.

"N-nothing. C’mon, let's—"

"Steve." You rested both hands on his wrists. He stopped. "You've been acting off all night. It's clearly not nothing."

He bowed his head, shoulders hunching.

"I missed you," he confessed quietly. 

"I missed you too," you smiled. "But you've got me, Steve. I'm not going anywhere."

"Stuff happened, when I was over there, and I saw—" Steve stopped, swallowing. 

He wavered forward the tiniest bit, arms twitching. Then he froze, restraining himself. You took the hint, wrapping your arms around his neck and coaxing him into a hug. Immediately, Steve clung to you, hands on your back, melding you to his chest. You hummed, breathing him in. 

"Yeah," you murmured, smoothing over the cowlick that just never seemed to settle no matter how much pomade Steve wrangled into it. "I think if anybody deserves to rest, it's you."

There was a heaviness, a weight that hadn't been there the last time you saw him, over a year ago. He pulled back slightly, nose nearly touching yours.

"Steve, I—" you fumbled, realizing how close Steve was, how you could count all the freckles on his cheeks if you wanted to.

“Yeah?” he breathed, warm air on your cheek.

Your arms were around his neck. His hands stayed dutifully on your waist. Steve’s eyes were like starlight, bright and earnest. Something delicate pulled in your chest, curling close to your heart. His eyes went to your lips.

“Kiss me,” you whispered.

Steve surged forward like he’d been waiting all night to do so. He melded you against him. Your lips slotted together. Kissing Steve was coming home. You knew he felt it too, with how he made a small noise into your mouth, unable to get enough of you. You felt his worry, his weariness forged through war and being stretched in a hundred different directions. 

Land here. I’ve got you.

Eventually you had to come up for air. But Steve didn’t go far. He merely moved to your sternum, resting his forehead. You held him like that, playing with the short, soft hairs at the nape of his neck.

“I’m glad you’re home, Steve,” you repeated, and this time he didn’t tense.

“Yeah,” he said against your skin. “Me too.”

[copperbadge]

Still badgering away at The Chicken Salad War and I did not realize how delighted I was going to be by introducing semi-masc nonbinary Jes Deimos to gallant butch Ylias Lazaar. I don't quite know where their subplot is going to go if anywhere but I feel like it may be somewhere awesome.

"Mr. Lazaar," said a familiar voice, and she turned to see LeFevre at her elbow, looking pleased. "A great success for you, I think." 

"Seems to have gone all right, yeah," she agreed. "I heard you were going to crash."

"Alas, I could not -- I ended up invited," he said, grinning. 

"And you brought guests?"

"Ah, I didn't mean to bring the royal family down on your head so soon," he said, leaning in. "They are terrible gossips; I should have remembered when I told King Theophile that he would likely share the information. Still, His Grace Gerald is pleased you use his oil and His Grace Michaelis enjoyed the matbucha greatly."

"And you? No constructive criticism?" she asked. 

"Not tonight. I have never opened a restaurant myself, but I can understand this is your triumph! And in any case they are small quibbles. I will need to dine here more times before I speak," he replied. Someone tapped him on the arm, and he turned, then nodded at the person standing just behind him -- the one who'd been speaking with the old king a moment before. "Mr. Lazaar, may I present Ser Deimos, who came with His Grace. This is Mr. Lazaar, the chef of the hour. She/her," he added with a smile. 

Ser Deimos looked amused. "They/them," they said, holding out a hand. "We're honored to be able to attend -- I don't think we realized when Gerald told us he was going that it was your soft open." 

"It's my pleasure. Not everyone gets to feed the royal family on their first night," she replied, bowing over their hand. "And you're an ornament to any dining room." 

Deimos looked delighted. "Thank you, that's kind of you to say. If I'd known the food was going to be this good I'd have scared up a party. I have a lot of friends in from out of country at the moment."

"Well, we open reservations tomorrow morning -- but for the royal family, I can set aside a table," Ylias replied. 

"Don't, just yet," Deimos said, looking around. "I'm thinking more of a party. Could we rent the restaurant?"

"The whole restaurant?" Ylias asked, blinking. Simon looked smug. 

"If not, that's fine -- we'll take the offer of a table -- but my son's graduating next week, and we were thinking of a group dinner the night before. Simon here is catering the night of," they added. "It'll be twenty or thirty people, and some of them have been doubtful that Fons-Askaz could live up to New York, foodwise. Yes, I felt the same," they added, catching Ylias's expression. "The only thing Fons-Askaz can't offer that New York can is the pizza, and only because our Eddie hasn't got the time to open a pizza restaurant." 

"I hadn't..." Ylias fumbled slightly. "I'm sorry, we have a catering menu but I hadn't arranged any kind of contract for renting the space. It'd need to be a handshake deal and I couldn't quote a fee off the top of my head."

"Of course, I threw this at you with no warning. Here," they said, reaching into their pocket for a wallet and pulling out a card. "Email or phone is fine. If you can send me a proposal by Sunday, I can make a deposit on Monday. I'm comfortable with an informal deal as long as we have terms written out over email. If you don't feel ready, just let me know -- we'll definitely be back regardless." 

"I'll be in touch," Ylias managed. Deimos gave her a bow and a smile, and retreated to their table.

[Then, later]

As they left Plate & Press, full of good food and possibly slightly tipsy, Jes leaned against Michaelis's arm and said, "Holy shit."

He gave them an amused look. "Yes, the food was very good. Nice space, too. I can't remember the last time I had such a pleasant evening out."

"Well, yeah, but I meant the chef," they said. He glanced at them, frowning.

"The Lazaar fellow?"

"Lady, I think. Uncertain, actually. Butch, possibly. She/her but Simon called her Mr. Lazaar." 

"I noticed her, but I didn't see anything particularly unusual. Why?" 

"I love you to bits but you're hopeless," they said. "You really didn't think she was hot?"

"I don't form opinions about sex appeal, generally," he reminded them. "Present company excepted." 

"Well, she is hot in a very specific way -- like you, actually, sort of masculine and chivalrous -- and she called me an ornament to her dining room. I may have had a little moment." 

He laughed. "Oh dear, am I going to have to fight a chef for your favors?" 

"No, it's just nice to know I still got it." 

He kissed the side of their head, affectionate. "You're an ornament wherever you go, but I'll make a note to remind you of it more often. Seems she's making a stir -- Simon likes her also, I think. Sometime soon we're going to have to kick Gregory and Eddie out of the residence for an evening, and I think I'll recommend that place for dinner. Gregory loves Tunisian food and I think Eddie would find a lot to interest him."

"You just want to spend a whole evening cuddling babies," Jes said. 

"Joan and the twins all require the benefit of my wisdom on a regular basis," he said. There was a wolf-whistle directed at them from somewhere over their heads; some young wag, out on the second-floor balcony of a small hotel, clearly getting an early start on Pride. She waved a pink-and-blue flag in their direction. 

"You can't have him!" Jes called. 

"I was whistling at you!" the girl called back. 

"I'll take him," her friend offered from the chair next to her. 

Michaelis chuckled. "Drink some water, young ladies, or you'll be in no condition for the parade this weekend," he called. 

"Vodka's sixty percent water!" someone on another balcony shouted, and someone else yelled for everyone to keep it down, and the discussion went on without them. 

[onthewaytosomewhere]

ficelet friday (that usually stretches into the weekend)

thanks to the wonderful @tailsbeth-writes for the tag!! 💚💚💚

The Rules: Copy the following prompts or make your own, post what fandoms you write for & your followers can request one of the prompts with a ship, character or fandom for a ficlet. Have fun!

This week's prompts are food & drink:

Hot chocolate with cream & marshmallows

Sunday roast with all the trimmings

Salted popcorn

Turkish delight

Cherry cola with lots of ice

Chicken Caesar salad

Creme brulee

Fried eggs and bacon

Espresso martini

Granny smith (sour) apple

ok so today let's say i'l write for RWRB (of course) any pairing ya want i think (why not?!) - 911 - any pairing i guess it's time to get my 911 ficlets to more than one lolz - i could prolly do some star wars (finnpoe for sure) or some star trek (kirk/mccoy or kirk/spock) and i don't know we'll call it at that for this week and next week maybe i'll have put some more thought into it...

no-pressure tag you're it! to @adreamareads @typicalopposite @taste-thewaste (amber you prolly beat me to putting this up but i didn't look yet ooops) @england-would-fall @softboynick

@forever-fixating @duchessdepolignaca03 @priincebutt @sophie1973 @stellarmeadow

@tinyarmedtrex @thinkof-england @hgejfmw-hgejhsf and an open tag to anyone else who might wanna play

ALL RIGHT MAKE ME WRITE STUFF FOR YA!!

I'M NOT TRAVELING OR STUCK AT FAM THINGS THIS WEEK SO I MAY EVEN GET THEM ALL DONE TODAY

[load--of--bollocks]

Modern!BBC Ghosts! AU

Robin-Guitarist. Bisexual. You have to earn his trust, and he is often overly cautious about new people. Friendly, but at the same time kinda shy. Like cacti, and chicken salad. Hates thunderstorms, they cause panic attacks.

Captain- He's a History professor at a college actually. Very passionate about his subject and can go on for hours. Gay, childhood PTSD, loves dogs and talking about War, hates loud noises like fireworks, balloons popping, etc.

Fanny- A manners etiquette teacher for children. Not married, and doesn't plan to be. Was engaged at some point, but caught her fiance cheating the night before the wedding, drunk at a party. She likes good manners and scones (with raspberry jam & tea, of course. She's not an animal.) Hates, bad manners, and spicy foods.

Humphrey- He's a lawyer. Engaged, with his husband-to-be, and has two pet cats, Lady and Knight. He doesn't drink coffee but is very much a tea person, thank you. He likes animals and painting, but it is more of a hobby, and hates untidiness, car alarms, and Mondays.

Part 2??

[starsaviour48]

Could you write tfp Bulkhead and Tfp Wheeljack trying out various foods while they are temporarly stuck as humans,?

Of course bestie no problemo.

Also Wheeljack hating tomatos is canon.

"Tell me doc that this is not permanent!" said Wheeljack.

Right now both him and Bulkhead were turned into human by an artifact that the autobots required recently. Smokescreen and Bumblebee were both holding back their laughter/chirips when they saw Arcee carrying the wrecker and the ex wrecker in her servos. Ratchet gave a glare to Wheeljack.

"It will be if you call me doc one more time."

/:Who makes an artifact like this anyways?:/ beeped Bumblebee between two wheezes.

"It's probably an experiment artifact. Or a by product. There were lot of those during the war." chided in Smokescreen who was happy to show off the knowledge he got from being an archivist.

"What ever it is-" started Ratchet but was interrupted by a loud sound that came from Bulkhead's stomach.

"Is it a bomb?" was all that Wheeljack asked.

The kids started laughing at that. The autobots looked confused and worried for their teammates.

"Relax he is just hungry. We should take them to eat something." said Raf.

"Eat? You mean fueling?" asked back Bulk.

"Yep. Mom let's take them to our house and order something." said Jack while looking at his mom.

"I don't think take out would be the best for them. Maybe it would be better if I cook something." hummed the nurse.

"C'mon Miss Darby! This is probably the firs and last time that Jackie and Bulk will be human. We should give them the good stuff!" encouraged Miko.

June sighed then signaled for the kids and the two now human autobots to follow her.

"I will leave them in your care than Miss Darby. Bee please accompany them." said Optimus and motioned to the scout to follow the small group.

The ride was spent with chatting and planning on what food they are gonna order. The results are:

- Chicken salad by June

- Curry by Miko

- KO burgers by Jack

- And for dessert Rafael choose chocolate pudding

They also stopped by the mall to buy orange soda and some gummy bears. Bulkhead squashed a white gummy between his fingers.

"Is this really eatable? It's texture is funny." said the wrecker.

"Iss like rubber. But oh well if we survived the decepticons this long some rubber animal ain't gonna kill us." said Wheeljack and popped a green gummy into his mouth. After that he made a face.

"It tastes like when you spice your energon cube with copper."

"It's sour candy. It will pull your mouth together." explained Raf.

Bulkhead wasn't really bothered by the sourness and ate another gummy.

"It's fine."

With that they soon arrived at Jack's house. While they were waiting for the food to arrive Miko showed cat videos to the bots. Bulkhead squiked every time something cute happened but Wheeljack sat through it stoically. In reality he struggled not to say aww when a small kitten was cuddling a teddy bear, but he would never admit it.

"Food review timeeee!" shouted Miko when she saw Jack and Raf bringing the food in.

"Let's start with the salad." said June and unwrapped the said food.

"Is this grass? Humans eat grass?" asked Wheeljack sceptically.

"It's not grass. These are vegetables. And the white chunks are chicken meat." chuckled Jack.

"Be sure to chew them properly." said June while handing the cutlery over to Wheeljack and Bulkhead.

"Mom they are not children. They are just giant alien robots who temporarily become human."

"Same thing." nodded June.

"Anyways dig in!" said Miko with a grin on her face.

The first taste wasn't bad. It wasn't Wheeljack's favourite but it was fine. Bulkhead just shuggered and took a bite out of the chicken.

"This chicken thing is good." said the wrecker and went for another piece.

In the mean time Wheeljack took a bite out of a tomato.

"Uh what is this? Even Ratchet's synthetic energon is better."

"When did you-" started Raf but was quickly interrupted by the ex wrecker.

"Don't ask."

Next up it was curry. Both of them approved it's taste.

"This is really good! Do you think Ratchet could replicate the taste in energon?" asked Bulkhead.

"Only one way to find out." smirked Wheeljack.

"I knew you would love it guys!" smiled Miko victoriously.

Jack's fast food came next. Two burgers and two cheese burger with fries was on the plate before the two friends. Wheeljack picked out the tomatos first while Bulkhead took a bit out of the cheese burger. The ketchup stained his green tank top.

"Oops."

"What's that liquid anyways?" asked Wheeljack who also took a bite out of his burger.

"Ketchup. Basically liquid tomato." said Miko.

Wheeljack looked confused at her.

"There is no way."

"Yes way."

"They don't even taste the same!"

"It's...you know what? Eat your veggies Jackie!" shouted the girl.

"Never!"

"What is this streachy thing? It's awesome."

"That's cheese Bulkhead." said Raf.

And for last it was time for Rafael's dessert. The chocolate pudding. Bulkhead chuckled when he poked the dessert and it jiggled.

"It's so different than what we had before." noted Wheeljack.

"Because it's sweet. Unlike the rest of the food that you tried." explained the small boy.

Both bots had a sweet tooth but Wheeljack would never admit it. He is a serious, snarky and badass swordman and scientist after all.

"Don't forget your whipped cream!" smirked Miko then proceed to dump the whole can of whipped cream onto the pudding.

Or well that was the plan but she stumbled, and she missed her target. Wheeljack's whole face, neck and hair were covered in whipped cream now.

"Miko!" exclaimed Jack.

Everyone laughed while Wheeljack scoffed and tried to get rid of the whipped cream.

"So... that's it?" asked Bulkhead.

"Well you should be thirsty after your meal." started June.

Jack poured 2 glasses of orange soda and put it in front of the wrecker and ex wrecker.

"Yer right my neck cables are dry." nodded Wheeljack.

"I assume you meant throat." said June.

Bulkhead didn't really waste time and downed the whole glass in one go. Wheeljack only blinked at him but soon after a loud sound errupted from the wrecker.

"Did you just blurp?" laughed Miko.

"The body of a human is full of mysteries."

Bonus:

"So you are saying that we need to eat in order to make this weak body function?" said Starscream while looking at him in disgust.

They were in Knockout's office, where they stood on the operating table. Before them there were various vegetables and fruit, scattered across them. Knockout grabbed one of the vegetables and bit it. After that he wheezed and his breathing picked up.

"Wha- What's wrong?" asked Starscream hesitantly.

"IT BURNS!!!!"

[siamesephoenixrandomideatank]

The Owl House Headcanon on Character's Favorite Japanese Dishes.

Luz Noceda: Okonomiyaki (Hiroshima-Style preferred). She likes it for it is a perfect comforting fusion between pancakes and takoyaki (which she had some bad memory from getting her tongue scrouged by it). Plus, she can choose a variety of fillings, which is great for her neurodivergent vibe (while also easily getting bored).

Amity Blight: Zaru Soba. She'd likely go for a dish that is simple yet defines Japanese elements. She would enjoy it with chunky chopped spring onion, wasabi-infused dipping, and hot tea on a side. After a few years of trying more Japanese dishes, she also got into shio udon and yakisoba. (and yakisoba-based okonomiyaki with her sweetheart)

Willow Park: Kimchi Nabe; full of vegetables, proteins from meat, eggs, mushrooms, tofu, and gochujang-rich kimchi (Giving spiciness and Korean-ness that Willow never realized she needed). She loves her nabe with varieties and large quantities of proteins. Especially chicken-based meatballs (like in sumo wrestler Chanko Nabe), chicken breasts, lean slices of beef, and white tofu. Plus, extra spicy.

Gus Porter: Omurice with ketchup fried rice underneath a blanket of thin and creamy omelet. He prefers creamy demiglace sauce with mushroom and beef stock base, alongside ketchup and a dash of Kewpie mayo. Maybe steamed bacon with low-sodium, crabstick, or fish sausage for the side protein. Plus, he loves Sanrio and doesn't care about locals' eyes upon him enjoying his two plates of My Melody Omurice.(It's kids' size, so two is it).

Hunter Noceda/Park/Daemonne: Kushiyaki, especially those from old-school Yatai stalls. However, he would avoid poultry-based ones (especially the wings, as tributes to his lifesaver, Flapjack) and alcoholic drinks. He usually goes with beef and vegetables on the same stick. His favorite side drink is Ramune or Calpis yogurt drink. He usually has a few pods of salted edamame first, if offered.

Vee Noceda: Shojin Ryori meal from local Zen Buddhist temples. Somehow, she can tastes 'magic' in food, and enjoy talking about spiritual and morality topics with Buddhist monks(and nuns). She usually not paying them by money but doing them some cleaning and arranging the sutra. She sometimes enjoy draining magic from Omamori (Green one is a yum!).

Edalyn Clawthrone: Tantanmen, extra broth, extra noodles, and a few extra pieces of boiled eggs. With rice on the side. After an extreme night (either work, or a party), she carves for carbs, proteins, and spices. Eventually, it becomes her usual comfort dish. Plus, it was worth her two meals and a pretty budget. If she feels extra fancy, maybe some extra meat as well.

Lilith Clawthrone: Kure's JMSDF (Japan Maritime Self-Defense Force)-style Curry Rice, with milk (low-fat, or soya milk) and salad with a light dressing. She prefers a vegetarian version and original taste that serves Japanese maritime forces. She eventually made her own thanks to befriending a friend who was a chef on a Japanese battleship in the Cold War.

King Clawthrone: Set of different sushi varieties. He is into nigiri and maki with a few simple ingredients. He is into a grilled saltwater eel, salted boiled ebi (or tempura-fried), churnchy cucumber, and tamago. Onigiri is also his go-to, but he is not into raw meat.

[crazylittlejester]

for the opinion thing

wars

and ravio (because i love that slimy little merchant)

RAVIO IS SO COOL AND I ADORE HIM GREATLY, PUT HIM IN THE SALAD SPINNER

AND WARS MY BELOVED BLORBO OUGH. I am squeezing him like a rubber chicken in the most gentle and loving way. I am gods most normal man when it comes to Warriors, as you all know by now i fear- Also I checked off ‘everyone else is wrong about them’ and ‘the fandom is so mean smh’ just because for some reason i’ve been seeing older posts of him floating around and i really dont like seeing him reduced to a ‘stupid twink’ 🤷‍♂️ hes more complex than that and i wish more of the fandom saw that but oh well