#How to make chicken porridge

[familythings]

How to make the Traditional Chicken Porridge

Chicken Porridge is an Albanian traditional recipe, from the birthplace of Grandma Xheni. She has inherited this recipe from her own grandmother and always prepared it with love and nostalgia. It is a pretty simple recipe to be prepared. The key for its success is to find a high quality fresh chicken (like the one in the photo). Here I go with the recipe: Eco-friendly KITCHEN FIBER multi-use for…

[optimisticwolfstarfish]

Old-School Cooking Meets Crispy Street Flavors! 👴👵🍤

[soulwrencher]

i'm feeling dizzy and sick so domestic!vi anyone?

i just think vi would look really good in an apron. way too good. and she knows how to cook, she'd never let you touch the stove, she tries at least not to... and then one day, when you come home and she notices you're sick, vi is a hot mess. her baby is sick, this can't be! where does she even start? running you a hot bath, making you your favorite hot beverage, cooking you porridge even though you hate it? too. much. to. stress. about. so you watch her walk up and down the kitchen while you almost pass out on the couch from the headaches you're having, "i'm not dying, vi," you murmur, "just hand me my meds please?"

and suddenly vi has her act all together. did it take a hit to her ego? maybe. but were you escorted into a hot tub with just the right amount of foam? hell yeah. "just scream if you're done or dying," she yells from the kitchen. it felt nice, she poured eucalyptus oil into the bathtub, since when did you have this? about to nod off in the bathtub you hear a soft voice calling for your name.

"come on, doll. hold on tight, okay?" she whispers as she wraps your arms around her neck to pull you out of the tub. careful this, watch out that, you were barely listening as you use the last bit of strength in your body to get out of the tub. and then she dries you off, you felt like a lost, wet puppy. her eyes were on you though, the whole time, making sure you're not actually dying, because that's what her eyes were giving away. you have her undivided attention, you really do, because she almost burns the chicken for the soup she is going to make for you, which frankly, never happens. so 7:1 for you! well, for her. (the score in your head to keep track of all the times you burnt food, in hopes to beat her one day. maybe you should get sick more often?)

and then you're in bed, you barely remember her dressing you but you do remember vi tucking you in bed, placing a soft kiss onto your forehead. "just stay with me a little more," she whispers. she's hovering over your shuddering body, her eyes searching for yours. you can feel the worry seep off her face, so you nod before she rushes off into the kitchen once again.

"careful, hold it, wait—" vi props you up so you can eat the chicken soup she made for you. "you have to eat before you sleep, doll." you tried your best to eat some of it and vi was impressed by how much you actually got down before you handed the bowl back to her. you whisper a small 'thank you' after vi who left for the kitchen with the bowl in her hand. but she comes back, of course she does and lays down next to you. suddenly you feel much warmer, blankets don't compare to vi's warmth.

"can i?" she asks, and you nod, there's nothing you want more than vi cuddling you into sleep right now. so she does, strong arms around your body, her chest against your back, you feel her breath on your shoulder.

"i won't ever leave your side," vi whispers into your neck as she wraps her arms a little tighter around your body, she thinks you're asleep by now. you forgot how clingy she can get, but you loved it more than anything. so you smile to yourself before you doze off to the sound of vi's steady breath and to the warmth of her palms on your hips.

[christopherisfoive]

Lemon Tea & Truce {Request}

Hello my little anon pie, i can't find the request in my inbox. I hope you see this. Order up: #8 sick reader and #14 enemies to lovers!

The dorm usually buzzed with choreography counts and videogame shrieks, but flu season had emptied the halls. You lay marooned on the living‑room sofa beneath three mismatched blankets, throat raw, fever pulsing behind your eyes. Each cough rattled the half‑empty mug of ginger tea on the coffee table.

Only one member remained in the unit: Lee Minho, resident neat freak, arch‑nemesis of your mess. He whistled while folding laundry in perfect squares.

From the hallway you croaked, “Robot Cat, can you keep it down?”

He poked his head out, arms stacked with towels. “You sound like someone swallowed a blender. Whistle’s the least of our issues.”

You meant to retort, but another cough stole the words. He set the towels aside, gaze flicking to the unused cold‑medicine packet. “Have you actually taken anything?”

“Waiting for a miracle,” you rasped.

Minho muttered something about helpless children, then disappeared into the kitchen.

He re‑emerged ten minutes later holding a steaming mug, plus two fever tablets balanced on the rim.

“Take these. Warm water first—don’t fight me.” His dry tone implied you would.

“You poison them?”

“Haven’t had time.” He rolled his eyes. “Swallow.”

You obeyed. The lemon‑honey drink soothed the sandpaper in your throat, surprising you with how good it tasted.

Minho checked your forehead with the back of his hand, frown deepening. “Still burning. Where’s your thermometer?”

“Somewhere in the medicine drawer… maybe.”

He sighed the sigh of a man who labelled every spice jar. “Of course.”

While he searched, you drifted. A crash jolted you awake—Minho had found the cluttered drawer. Bottles clattered; a tape measure flew out.

“Why is there sewing chalk in here?” he called.

“Multifunctional storage,” you croaked.

“More like chaos theory.” A muffled curse followed, then, “Got it.”

He returned, disinfected thermometer in hand. You glared as he tucked it under your tongue.

“For once, silence suits you,” he said.

Your glare intensified; his lips twitched.

When the beep sounded, he read the numbers. “38.9. Great. We’re courting a hospital visit.”

He vanished again. Water ran; cupboards closed. The scent of rice and chicken wafted out—a sign he’d started congee.

Between dozes you recalled last month’s prank war: Minho swapping your instant noodles with uncooked spaghetti; you switching his cat‑ear headband for pink bunny ears before a V‑Live. Neither of you apologised—score‑keeping was half the friendship you never admitted having.

Now that same Minho padded over with a cold compress, gentling it against your temple. The contradiction made your chest ache in a new way.

“Thanks,” you murmured.

He didn’t answer, but his thumb brushed your cheek—just once—before retreating.

Dusk blurred windowpanes when he nudged you awake with a bowl of steaming porridge.

“Eat slowly,” he ordered, handing you a spoon.

The first bite tasted of ginger, chicken, and comfort. “You cook better than you fold laundry,” you whispered.

He raised a brow. “Folding is an art. You’d know if you owned an iron.”

You mustered a smile. “Hit me where it hurts.”

He settled on the floor beside the sofa, arms on his knees. “Serious question—why do you leave lights on in every room?”

Blinking, you shrugged. “Dorm felt empty until I joined. Light makes it look lived‑in.”

He stared, expression unreadable. “It drives me crazy—but maybe I missed it today.”

Heat pooled under your fever. “Maybe you like chaos more than you admit.”

“Maybe.” A ghost of a smile curved his lips.

Later, a thunderclap wrenched you from fevered dreams. Panic clawed; you gasped. Instantly Minho was beside you, steady hands holding your shoulders.

“Hey. It’s just rain.” His voice, low and firm, anchored you.

Your vision cleared to find his face inches away, worry unmasked.

“Why are you… this nice?” you managed.

He swallowed. “Because I don’t actually want to see you suffer.” Pause. “And because you distract me. Loudly.”

“By leaving lights on?”

“By being you.” Nerves flickered in his eyes, quickly hidden by sarcasm. “Don’t let it go to your congested head.”

“Too late.” You smiled, then coughed.

He pressed the mug to your lips. “Small sips.”

Near midnight, fever broken, you shifted to sit up. Minho’s hoodie dwarfed you, smelling faintly of his detergent and citrus body spray. He dozed against the sofa edge, arms folded.

You nudged his shoulder. “Nurse Minho.”

He jerked awake. “Temperature?”

“Down. All thanks to Robot Cat.”

Relief softened his features. He helped you stand, hand warm at your back.

At your bedroom door you teased, “You know this earns you one free mess—you pick the prank, I won’t retaliate.”

He considered. “I’d rather cash it in for dinner when you’re better.”

“Deal.” You stepped inside, but he cleared his throat.

“Y/N—”

You peeked back.

He rubbed the back of his neck, cheeks pink. “Bring my hoodie to dinner. No backing out.”

Your laugh—scratchy yet bright—filled the hallway. “Who’s backing out?”

“Guess we’ll both find out.”

You closed the door, pulse steady and warm. On the sofa behind him, lemon tea cooled beside an unfinished prank tally—no longer needed.

[jinusajas]

10/30/24; 05:23pm

itoshi rin x fem.reader

notes / warnings: unedited; potentially ooc.

a part of you knew that you shouldn’t be basking in the way your boyfriend was currently suffering from a fever-

but truly, could anyone blame you for wishing to see the infamous itoshi rin in a more vulnerable position?

your day started out pretty normal, with you doing your usual morning routine when rin’s text tone was heard coming from your phone. warmth fills you at the thought of receiving a text from your beloved boyfriend, but as you swiped at the notification, your happiness was quickly replaced with concern.

rin-rin ⚽️💙: hey, sorry, can’t make it to our movie night. i just took my temperature and it’s 38°C.

you 🌌: oh nooo! have no fear my love, if you can’t come to me, i’ll just come to you!!

rin-rin ⚽️💙: no, don’t. i feel like shit and i can’t do anything.

you 🌌: say no more, i will come over and personally fight your fever (ง •̀_•́)ง

rin-rin ⚽️💙: wait, don’t come over; i don’t want you to get sick, either.

you didn’t heed his words, choosing instead to ignore his texts as you got ready to head over his place. opting to dress more comfortably with the intention of taking care of him, you simply take the essentials with you before making your journey to his apartment.

within the next 30 minutes, you arrive at his place, using the spare key he had given you to walk inside his home. upon entering, you bask in the lingering scent of his cologne, letting it surround you as you allowed the scent to lead you toward rin’s bedroom.

stepping into his room, you saw his form curled up beneath the blanket, unable to see you because of how sick he felt. empathy fills at your heart, and you manage to kneel down beside him, seeing his damp head of hair peeking out from the comforter. letting out a soft sigh of his name, you gently gave his head a series of gentle pats.

a groan was heard in response to your soft caress, with rin finally managing to peek his head out from beneath his comforter. an uncharacteristic pout was seen on his face, with his cheeks dyed a deep shade of red as evident of his fever.

“i…i told you… not to c-come…” his turquoise eyes were filled with annoyance, yet you didn’t let that stop you from leaning forward, giving his damp cheek a kiss.

“hush, you need me, and there’s no way in hell i’m leaving you alone.”

you reach into your bag, pulling out a bottle of cold water while helping rin sit up in bed. he grumbles a bit, but accepts the bottle of water all the same. “i’ll be right back, okay?”

rin hums, giving you a weak nod all while tending to his water bottle. with him slowly rehydrating, you step out into his kitchen and decided to make a light and easy meal of chicken rice porridge. raiding his fridge, you were happy to see lean cuts of chicken breasts along with some scallions as well.

remaining focused on the task at hand, you work on cooking this simple meal, basking in the savory scents that fill at the air. roughly an hour passes when you finally finished cooking the rice porridge for rin. you place the hearty bowl on a tray with another cold bottle of water along with some medicine.

returning back to his room, you smile at seeing rin still settled in bed. he weakly meets your gaze while his breathing remained somewhat labored. your name falls from his parted lips in a bit of a gasp, which makes your heart clench even further for him.

“poor baby, has no one taken care of you before when you got sick?”

rin looks away in response to your question, eyes seeming to shimmer as they appeared glazed over. “hey, come here, look at me.”

you carefully set his meal off to the side, on his nightstand. sitting next to him on his bed, you carefully grip at his chin, forcing him to meet your gaze. the shiny quality was still seen in his gaze, and you give him a loving smile. “you’re not weak for feeling sick and unwell. you deserve to be loved and taken care of… you don’t have to go through this alone, because i’ll be here for you, okay?”

rin remains silent, giving you a single nod as he seemed to lean in to your touch, allowing the tip of his nose to trace at the palm of your hand before pressing a kiss against it. your smile widens upon feeling such a soft sensation, with you now determined to spoil him when you picked up the bowl of rice porridge.

you allow the spoon to scoop up a decent portion, blowing on it a few times before offering it to rin. “i can feed myself.”

“i know you can, but i want to do this for you… please, let me take care of you?”

your boyfriend lets out a scoff, unable to meet your gaze when he open his mouth, accepting the spoonful of porridge. with a happy grin on your face, you continue to feed him, offering him some sips of water here and there as you willingly tended to his every need.

when the bowl was completely emptied, you set it off to the side while giving him some medicine, allowing him to take it while emptying the entire bottle of water. once he was fed and had taken his medicine, you were ready to clean up the kitchen and emptied dishes when rin stops you.

you look down to see the way his larger hands weakly gripped at your wrist before pulling you. your body immediately falls when a jerking tug pulled you back into bed as strong arms grabbed you, holding you against a hard chest.

the force of rin’s pull was so strong that you nearly slipped to the ground were it not for the arms that supported you. your curious eyes meet with his gaze once more, and you found yourself being engulfed in a tight embrace as rin hid his face into your hair. you could feel his hot breath fanning against your neck producing a hot sensation that began traveling up your skin.

“r-rin?!” you attempt to wiggle out of his embrace, but his arms wrapped around you were as strong as steel, making your efforts become fruitless. it felt like rin had no intention of letting you go, as his breathing becomes labored all while keeping you within his embrace.

“don’t leave me…” he weakly starts, his grip on you growing firmer as he sighs against you. “need you… here…” your eyes widened momentarily before softening, your heart melting at the sight of rin holding you so tightly against him.

“i…” he begins again, his voice nearly breathless while tinged with exhaustion that you felt a rush of love and empathy swell within the depths of your heart, “i don’t want you to go.” the words were whispered so softly that you could barely hear it-

but you managed to catch his words all the same, responding with an affirmative hum as you began to wrap your arms around his broad back with your cheek resting against his chest. now that he was certain that you wouldn’t leave him, rin falls back in bed, taking you within his arms before falling into a peaceful slumber all while clinging to you-

treating you like you were his greatest comfort.

end notes: gahhh you readers have no idea how many times i’ve erased this, then rewrote it over and over again before getting it right with this post. despite how much i adore rin as a character, it’s so hard to make him not appear so ooc, hhhhhh….! i’ll edit and make changes once this is posted 😭

all stories are written by rei; please do not repost, plagiarize, or translate my works!!

[goatgoesmbe]

Can I offer a cute thing? (Or if you find a way to make it spice, go ahead…)

Ghost or soap or both taking care of you while you’re sick? Ghost would actually know what to do, water, made soup, cold towel on your forehead, big man babying you back to health. Soap would 100% get sick as well cus he insisted on kissing you lol

tw: stalking (wait a minute- i just realized this aint 100% cute)

Hazy eyes, nose stuffy, body curled up in your seat as you tried to focus on your work.

That's what they saw through your webcam. You, who were too stubborn to rest and stayed loyal by your PC instead letting your body properly heal.

Soap didn't even wait for the others to discuss what to do, because they still have a job to focus on- but they couldn't exactly let you be either. The sergeant was gone immediately before his captain could even say anything.

The older man could only sigh and send the one who was used to looking after the Scot, making sure Soap behaved..

The other two wanted to go too of course, but someone needed to stand by and actually do their job.

So here you were, eyes wide as you stared at two men who you've only met recently.

You didn't get the chance to even think about how they knew where you lived- let alone getting in because you were so sure you locked your door twice. Your brain was fried from the amount of tasks you had done and needed to be done, also from the pounding headache that still persisted despite the amount of paracetamol you took.

No, before you could process what happened, Ghost gestured at you to Soap, and the latter was immediately on you.

Just then, you protested. But your complaint fell on deaf ears as Soap shushed you, lifting you up before sitting you in his lap, pinning you to his chest so you couldn't move.

You stayed like that for a moment, slurring your words as you told Soap to let you go. But he only cooed and tightened his hold around you, cuddling in bed as Ghost was out preparing everything needed to take care of you.

And even when the lieutenant was back, Soap refused to let you go. Ghost didn't say anything against it, knowing Soap would whine and you would insist on going back to your PC if he did.

So he took care of you like that, with a clingy man wrapping his strong limbs around your body like a boa constrictor. Ghost put a wet towel on your forehead, spoon-fed you a warm chicken porridge, before tilting your chin up as he held a glass of water to your mouth.

Their combined affections got you feeling fuzzy inside, the thought about being angry with them for breaking into your place slowly dissolved in your mind.

When you yawned, Ghost finally told Soap to let you go so you could lay comfortably. The latter complied, and let you drift into dreamland after planting soft kisses all over your face

And yes, the sergeant got sick the next day

[reomikagekin]

Aahh i need fluff with Luka so baddd i havent recovered from Wiege 😭

I feel so bad for him omg ? ? Imagine getting starved despite having a huge diet , having multiple diseases and pushed to the brink of death over and overr

I need some fluff with him so bad where we just comfort himm 😞

You're safe now.

Luka looked perfect, as always.

Even in the dim quiet of the infirmary dorms, with a worn blanket around his shoulders and dark circles under his eyes, he still carried himself like he was on stage. Shoulders square. Jaw tight. Movements deliberate. Like the world was watching and he couldn’t afford to let them see him crack.

You stood at the doorway for a second, just… watching him.

He sat on the edge of the bed like it might disappear if he shifted wrong. His eyes were fixed on nothing, but his fingers were fidgeting—just barely—restless and unsure. The air around him felt tense, like he was bracing for something.

You stepped in gently. Quietly. “Hey.”

He blinked. Turned his head. “You again.”

There wasn’t any sharpness to it. Just tiredness.

You smiled softly and held up a bowl. “I brought you something warm. Chicken rice porridge. Mizi said it was your favorite.”

Luka’s expression didn’t change much, but you saw it—the small twitch in his lip, the way his posture faltered for a second.

He didn’t reach for the bowl.

“…I’m not hungry,” he muttered.

You walked over and sat on the floor in front of him anyway. “You don’t have to finish it. Just try a little?”

He hesitated, then—still as stiff as a statue—nodded once.

You lifted a spoonful and held it up for him.

He looked at it like it might bite him.

“I can feed myself,” he mumbled.

“I know,” you replied gently, “but… let me, just this once? Please?”

His shoulders tensed, like the kindness physically hurt. But after a beat, he leaned forward and took the spoon.

He didn’t say anything, but you saw the tiniest breath leave him—like his body was remembering what warmth felt like.

You fed him in slow silence. He only managed a few bites before he stopped and shook his head.

“That’s enough,” he whispered. “It’s too much.”

You nodded and set the bowl down. “Okay.”

Luka sat back, curling the blanket tighter around himself. His eyes drifted toward the ceiling. “I used to fantasize about food like that,” he said quietly. “When I was locked up. I’d make lists of everything I wanted to eat. I thought it would feel good when I finally got to taste it again.”

“Did it?” you asked softly.

His voice cracked. “No. It just made me remember how long I went without.”

You reached out and touched his hand. It was trembling.

“Luka,” you said, “you’re not in there anymore. You're not alone. You're not starving. You're safe.”

He didn’t respond. Just stared at your hand over his like he didn’t know what to do with it.

You stood slowly, then sat next to him on the bed, careful not to startle him. “Can I… stay with you a while?”

“…If you want.”

You didn’t hesitate. You leaned against him, arms looping around his waist, your cheek pressing gently to his shoulder.

He was frozen stiff at first. Breathing shallow. Like he was still waiting for someone to punish him for getting too comfortable.

But after a long pause—he melted.

Just a little.

His body sagged against yours, the weight of exhaustion finally crashing down. His arms slipped around you like it was instinct, and he buried his face in your shoulder.

“I didn’t think I’d make it out,” he whispered. “I thought… maybe I deserved it.”

You held him tighter. “You didn’t. You never did.”

“But I was awful. I used people. I hurt them. I thought I was doing what I had to, but—”

“You were surviving,” you said gently. “And you’re still here. That matters.”

His breath hitched.

“You don’t have to earn comfort, Luka. You don’t have to perform for it. You’re allowed to be held. To be cared for. Just because you exist.”

He went quiet.

Then you felt it.

A soft, shaking sob pressed against your neck.

You didn’t move. Didn’t speak. You just let him cry. Quiet and fragile, like the tears had been waiting years to fall.

Eventually, when the shaking slowed, you pulled back just enough to look at him.

“Lie down?” you asked.

He nodded wordlessly.

You eased him back into the blankets, tucked them gently around him, then climbed in beside him. He clung to you instantly—his arm curling around your waist, his forehead resting against your collarbone.

You brushed his hair back, fingers combing slowly through the soft strands. “You’re safe now,” you whispered.

“I don’t know what to do with that,” he admitted.

“That’s okay,” you said, kissing his temple. “We’ll figure it out together.”

And for the first time in a long time, Luka closed his eyes and let himself rest.

Not as a prince. Not as a manipulator. Not as a perfect performer.

Just as a boy who had finally made it out. And the person who refused to let him fall again.

[digitalmaeri]

haii maeri!! here are some more questions. i hope you are having a good day ^^

- how would the LIs react if MC got sick?

- how do they act when they are sick and MC wants to take care of them?

Hello!! Thank you <3 I hope you are also having a good day! Gwen would make MC their fav comfort soup! If they don't have one, she'll make chicken noodle soup or rice porridge.

If she were the sick one, she would be eternally grateful for MC's kindness!

Sven would try his absolute best to keep MC comfy, even giving them all his pillows and blankets. He'd be a little in denial about being sick ( cause he doesn't want to sleep away the time when he can be conscious with you. what a silly thought )

Derek would try his best to take care of MC! (but then get sick himself haha ) He would feel flustered and a little guilty- after all, isn't HE the one who was supposed to be taking care of YOU?

[daisynik7]

Author's Note: this is a very self-indulgent little nanami drabble because I am currently sick and he is definitely the doting type of husband to do something like this. For reference, I'm Filipino, but I'm sure this and similar types of home-remedies/old wives tales apply to all cultures. And the rice porridge he makes at the end is called Arroz Caldo, in case you were wondering! Divider by @/cafekitsune.

Your hubby Nanami takes care of you while you're sick the best way he knows how. But when his efforts are futile, that's when he calls for backup.

"Kento? Is everything okay?"

You hear the familiar voice of your mother on speaker phone out in the living room as you're snuggled up in bed, barking out phlegmy coughs into the sleeve of your sweatshirt. The door is ajar, and your husband, after having fed you his world-famous chicken noodle soup, excuses himself, distraught by the fact that your sense of taste and smell is temporarily nonexistent.

"Hi Mom. I'm not sure. She can't smell or taste anything. I don't know what else to do."

Despite the shitty state you're in, you can't help but smile to yourself. You always love how he calls your mom Mom, how comfortable it is coming out of his mouth. He insisted a while ago that he would do it, and even though it's been years, you still get a kick out of it.

"Okay dear. Here's what you need to do."

Half an hour later, Nanami returns from a quick grocery store run, waking you from your nap, waving a big jar of Vick's VapoRub in his hands.

"Kento?" You call out, eyes bleary, still half-asleep.

"Go back to sleep, honey. I'm just going to try something." He uncovers your feet, unscrews the jar, and lathers a healthy dose of the balm straight onto your feet, spreading it across your skin.

You sit up, laughing, causing you to cough. "What are you doing?"

He doesn't answer right away, doing the same with the other foot. Then, he gets up, stepping towards to the drawer to retrieve a pair of your fuzzy socks, putting them on you. "Your mom said this works. Swears by it."

Your smile grows wider. "She used to do this for me all the time as a kid."

"Why didn't you tell me sooner?" he asks, worry in his voice. "We could have tried this sooner."

You reach for his hand, stroking him gently with your thumb. "Honey, I don't think there's any scientific proof that putting this stuff on your feet actually helps."

He squeezes you back. "Well, it doesn't hurt to try right?"

That night, you learn that the home remedy your mother gave to your husband isn't the only advice she offers. You smell a comforting aroma wafting from the kitchen, and soon enough, Nanami serves you a hot bowl of your Mom's famous chicken rice porridge, almost exactly the way she makes it.

And maybe it's just coincidence, but the next day, you actually do feel better.

[celenawrites]

John Price is a natural leader.

Always taking the lead on the field and off duty. Always confident, self-assured in his abilities to guide himself and others through difficult situations with ease.

He's always so worried about his team - slipping in some antihistamines in Gaz's pockets whenever his dust allergies kick in and make his sneezes ring out on base at ungodly hours, making sure Johnny doesn't end up recklessly in another communal mess 'fight'', and checking up on Simon after a rough mission drains all life out of his blue eyes, leaving him dull and mute from the trauma of surviving another war.

He never forgets to wish his teammates birthday, always tries his best to push them to take extra leaves so they can visit family and rest after an arduous mission, and even indulges in their frivolous past times, if only to make time pass by easier.

He always remembers to send Kate and her wife flowers as a 'thank you' for hosting him for dinner, never forgets to call Laswell and congratulate her on successful jobs, and makes sure to send the finest bottle of wine for letting some of his 'rebellious actions' go under the radar.

So when he finally comes down with the seasonal flu, you take it upon yourself to reciprocate the generosity he graces everyone with - not letting the man leave the warm, soft bed as you tend to every need of his throughout the day.

"Sweetheart, get back to bed. I'll be fine", John tells you but his stuffy nose makes his voice sound more nasally than usual.

You tut at him, recalling his high temperature, "I cannot laze around while you're suffering and need me, John. Now let me take care of you, and put the cold compress on."

"Yes ma'am."

You run around, from room to room - arranging things and making sure to check in on your dear fiance to make sure he's not in pain while you prepare some home remedies for him.

A herbal mixture you make him drink for his sore throat, which Price downs with a small wince; changing his cold compress with a new one so he can rest comfortably. Turning down the lights so that his eyes don't smart anymore, and he can actually take a nap around noon while you work on lunch - chicken noodle soup and warm porridge that can warm him up from inside and are easy on the stomach - recalling every little trick your Mum did whenever you got sick.

And when you finally come back in the room to find John sleeping, you take a moment to breathe calmly as you slowly admire him. His flushed cheeks, freshly-trimmed mutton chops, his freckle on his nose and how his nose scrunches up while he's deep in his sleep, and how oddly comforting it is - to have him in your home, to see him resting after months of separation and knowing that he possibly hasn't slept this peacefully in ages.

"Take a picture, darling. It'll last ya longer", calls out a raspy voice, followed by a dry chuckle.

Felling your ears warm up at being caught by the very object of your attention, you promptly deflect, "Oh, shut it, you big dork. Lunch's ready, if you'd like to have it."

"With you?" John asks rhetorically, with a small fond smile on his face.

"Always."

[lu-community-write-a-thon]

January LU Write-a-Thon Round Up: 246,992 Words in One Day!

On the first day of the year 67 writers came together to see how many words we could write in a single day. From Fic to homework and everything in between, we managed to collaboratively get nearly 250k in 24 hours. Go team!

Lovely event dashboard made by the even lovelier @zarvasace. Superlatives are fun little awards and titles given by participants to participants of the event, and were all chosen with love (and humor). Clubs are self-assigned groups writers could make and join to combine their word counts for friendly competition.  Belie the cut is, in order, the Winner’s Circle, Clubs, Everyone Else who received a superlative in alphabetical order.

Winner’s Circle (Top Six Most Wordiest)

At 27,343 words, “Writer of all Time” goes to @twink-between-worlds with one hell of a showing. Well done!

At 19,180 words, “slugwife” goes to @glowingmin 

At 16,794 words, @hytiaa comes in third!

At 12,496 words, “Fight Scene Supreme” goes to @not-freyja 

At 11,772 words, fifth place goes to @twizel. Amazing job!

At 11,216 words, sixth place goes to @somer-writes. Congratulations!

Clubs

Clubs! In these, participants were allowed to come together and find common ground around a chosen topic or theme. These clubs were completely public, so anyone could join the fun and combine their word counts for some friendly competition. Thank you all for playing, check out your stats below!

🤫 The Quiet Ones Club

For those who are here as part of the event but may not have the time to stick around and chat on the server.

Members: @pelicanpig @druidbottles @weavingstarlight and @ra-archives

🍵💛 Cosy Club

In honour of the Cosy Chat, a club for anyone who loves comfy blankets, warm fires, and a nice, cosy evening.

“The Chef” was @sunny-porridge and no matter what you’re cooking, Sunny, I’m sure it is delicious!

“The blendererrrrr” was @tashacee and again, questions. I have them.

Additionally: @respheal @bluevaractyl and @sketchy-potato

🚂🪈 Spirit Stans Club 

Whether to hurt him or to fluff him, we love Spirit! A club for all the Spirit fans who are very normal about him.

“Baguette Magique” came from @hyrulescarlet

“Bacon fan” was none other than @labyrinthdancer

“Tacticional Undeath” got pulled off by @rosettaforgetta

“The Cheerleader” and “The memeer” both go to @thatbluepencilcrayon

We also had a “writeathon name generator” aka @whatvioletdoes-blog

Additionally: @a-manicured-lawn @amayis-bigtower @emberlylion @marsnoodlesoup and @twizel from the winner’s circle!

🌧️🗺️ ?ploo Club

The club dedicated to funky rainworld physics, glue jesus, and letting the rot consume

“Bacon Owner” was our dear @anime-obsessed

“Tetris” was given to @bittirsweeteer with no elaboration offered or needed.

@cinis0 was a “productive, pathetic wet cat”

“Assigned Soup Dumpling at LU Write-A-Thon” to @hytiaa leaving me with many questions.

@lunaopus was Assigned "Hambler" leaving me with even more questions.

And, of course @winterfen “Aimed for the Funny Numbers.”

Additionally: @glowingmin (from the winner's circle) and @starlight-eclipsed 

🐉🔥 Dragon Supremacy Club

The perfect club for all your dragon-loving needs!

“Assigned Chicken at Write-a-Thon” was none other than @vivalaplutothedachshund

Additionally: @maddrumsticks2 and  @violetregrets1837

🐰💜 Ravio Fan Club

Do you love capitalism? Or purple people? Or a specific Lorulian merchant who likes to be a rabbit? Then join Ravo fan cult!! It’s totally normal and not a cult!! Trust.

“Slapchop tavo” goes to @baileyboo2016 and means something beyond my comprehension.

Additionally: @the-au-collector and both @twink-between-worlds and @not-freyja from the winner’s circle! 

🕰️🫵 Time Loop Club

Hey, you! Do you like time loops? Well come on down to the time loop club! Here, we write about your favourite going through an endless cycle of events! (Disclaimer: this does involve the horrors.) Hey, you! Do you like—

@aurora-boreas-borealis “Forgot the Event was Happening” and also “Forgot to Apologize.” Good job.

Additionally: @aeghina and @toyouhellohowareyou

🌙 Fierce Deity Club

He's the Fierce Deity. What else needs to be said?

@musical-chan pulled off the impossible and “Emerged From the Grave, In a casket.”

Additionally: @artsyanonymity @cat-at-a-writing-desk @imperialkatwala

💫😵 Shovel.hDs Club

We all agree that Malon is the best and should use her shovel liberally. Join us today and get your own independent shovel.hD from a non-accredited source.

Members: azyrules, @satanfish , Demonine, Ven, and @zarvasace

😎🔥New Blood Club

This club is for the newbies among us!

The “Unwitting Member of a Polycule” was @playingforward

Additionally: Shapeshifter47

Everyone else

@trix-korok. Was the “Honorary participant overlord” should… should I be worried?

“Fluff enjoyer” for @1-renegade . (This you Lawless???? -- Cheeto)

@gayferret420 also "Forgot the Event was Happening.”

The “Tyrant of Discord” was given to @gia-d 

“Head in Hands Wild” is of course none other than @hotcheetohatredwastaken

“Lennon Linen Lenin Lenn” are all great names for @lennsart

@lerikwrites is “Immortalized for crimes.” What crimes, Lerik?

“The Juggler” goes to @linkiscool333 for having so many projects!

@orcusnoir “Unexpectedly got Words.” Bravo!

@savimatteo2810 also “Forgot the Event was Happening!”

“Shakespeare’s Monkey” is @seaotter-17

@taddy-cat was the “Resident Moral Support Friend!”

Ending Notes

Thank you to every single writer who participated this month! Even if you didn’t get a superlative, you were a star, and we couldn’t have done this without you. If you find any typos or mistakes in this post—please feel free to contact @hotcheetohatredwastaken or @not-freyja with your concerns here on tumblr or on discord!

Huge shoutout to the mod team (@not-freyja @hotcheetohatredwastaken @a-manicured-lawn @tashacee @winterfen @weavingstarlight @gia-d @zarvasace @lunaopus @hytiaa @shadedheart138 and @whatvioletdoes-blog ) for making this event possible!

See you all on February first, GMT+1, for the next Write-A-Thon!

[petermorwood]

@dduane found this on Out Of Ambit, and wants me to make it again as an entry for The Mind Palate.

Also to get better photos, because the one accompanying the original post is...

Unimpressive.

"Savoury mud" is what I called it then, and have no reason to change that opinion - but regardless of how unprepossessing it looks, It Tastes Just Great.

I'm thinking that some red and green pepper pieces would add a bit of colour, and wouldn't hurt the flavour. Maybe kidney beans, too...

That vaguely yellowish thing in the middle is a large chunk of butter, with which DD will happily garnish rice, kasha, colcannon, champ, porridge (with brown sugar) and of course a nice big baked potato.

*****

I've amended the recipe slightly, reducing the oil and salt by half and adding metric measurements - which are approximate, everything about this is approximate. It was literally something I just threw together without, as it says, referring to a cookbook or buying in anything special.

That said, I do recommend using ghee for Indian cooking if you can get any. It's very easy to make at home, similar to clarifying butter except for taking longer since it involves cooking (browning) the separated-out milk protein on the bottom of the pot to add flavour. There's plenty of ghee-making advice on-line.

OK, here's that recipe...

*****

Improvised store-cupboard dhal (dal, daal etc.) for when you can’t be bothered with a cookbook then going to the shop for more elaborate ingredients.

Ingredients:

½ cup / 125 ml vegetable oil OR 125g ghee (better flavour)

2 large onions, chopped fine

4-6 cloves garlic, chopped fine

1 tbsp. each of ground cumin, ground coriander

½ tbsp. each of ground turmeric, ground chilli, ground black pepper

½ tbsp. each of mild curry powder & hot curry powder (optional)

½ tsp. salt

2 cups / 500 g red lentils

½ cup / 125 g green lentils

½ cup / 125 g brown lentils

Boiling water

1 tbsp. lemon juice

Method:

Heat the oil, fry the onions & garlic until soft and glossy.

Add all the spices and fry for a few minutes.

Add all the lentils and stir everything together*.

Add enough boiling water to cover by ½ an inch.

Stir everything together, reduce heat, cover and simmer for about ½ an hour. Check occasionally, adding more water if required, a bit at a time then stir. (Don’t overdo the water. Preferred texture is like stew, not soup.)

Add lemon juice, stir, and serve with rice and / or breads like chapatti, roti or naan.

My recipe for naan is here.

This dhal makes a good side with shop-bought tandoori chicken.

*Alternately add lightly fried chicken or lamb cubes and 2 x cans of chopped tomatoes along with the lentils, reducing the amount of water accordingly. Simmer for ¾ hour, serve when meat is cooked, and call it a dhansak.

(It isn’t really. But it's delicious.)

[hamletteprinceofdenmark]

Jonathan's Food Blog

I've decided to write down all the foods mentioned in Dracula. I think it could be fun. Below are all the foods, as well as how they are described in the book and (if I can) a link to a recipe and/or further information 😊 May 3rd - Jonathan Harker's Journal

Paprika Hendl - Perhaps the most famous dish of all. "I had for dinner, or rather supper, a chicken done up some way with red pepper, which was very good but thirsty. (Mem., get recipe for Mina.) I asked the waiter, and he said it was called “paprika hendl,” and that, as it was a national dish, I should be able to get it anywhere along the Carpathians. " Recipe for Paprika Hendl (Paprikás Csirke)

Mamaliga and Impletata - "I had for breakfast more paprika, and a sort of porridge of maize flour which they said was “mamaliga,” and egg-plant stuffed with forcemeat, a very excellent dish, which they call “impletata.”"

Recipe for Mamaliga

Recipe for Impletata

May 5th - Jonathan Harker's Journal

"Robber Steak" and Golden Mediasch - "lest who reads them may fancy that I dined too well before I left Bistritz, let me put down my dinner exactly. I dined on what they called “robber steak”—bits of bacon, onion, and beef, seasoned with red pepper, and strung on sticks and roasted over the fire, in the simple style of the London cat’s meat! The wine was Golden Mediasch, which produces a queer sting on the tongue, which is, however, not disagreeable. I had only a couple of glasses of this, and nothing else." Slivovitz - "There is a flask of slivovitz (the plum brandy of the country) underneath the seat, if you should require it." Recipe for Robber Steak

Golden Mediasch - Bram Stoker likely read about Mediasch wine in the detailed travel book by British author Charles Boner, TRANSYLVANIA. ITS PRODUCTS AND ITS PEOPLE. In this book, there is an extensive chapter all about wines in Transylvania. There are even records of Stoker's library loaning of this book to him, likely studying it while doing his research for the novel.

Although Golden Mediasch is no longer produced, pairing your robber steak with a sweet, dry white wine, like a German Riesling, will probably do the trick. Slivovitz - Slivovitz is a plum brandy popular throughout eastern Europe and not entirely unlike Italian grappa.

Roast Chicken and Tokay - "The Count himself came forward and took off the cover of a dish, and I fell to at once on an excellent roast chicken. This, with some cheese and a salad and a bottle of old Tokay, of which I had two glasses, was my supper."  Recipe for Roast Chicken Tokay - Tokaji or Tokay is the name of the wines from the Tokaj wine region (also Tokaj-Hegyalja wine region or Tokaj-Hegyalja) in Hungary or the adjoining Tokaj wine region in Slovakia. This region is noted for its sweet wines made from grapes affected by noble rot, a style of wine which has a long history in this region.

May 7th - Jonathan Harker's Journal

Cold Breakfast with Coffee - "When I had dressed myself I went into the room where we had supped, and found a cold breakfast laid out, with coffee kept hot by the pot being placed on the hearth ... I set to and enjoyed a hearty meal."

Cold Breakfast - In the late 19th century, a “cold breakfast” in the regions of Hungary and Romania would have comprised a selection of preserved and readily available foods.

A traditional cold breakfast during this period likely included:

• Cold Cuts: Varieties of cured meats such as salami, pastrami, and smoked sausages were common. These meats were often homemade and preserved through smoking or curing, making them suitable for cold service .

• Cheeses: Cheeses like telemea, a brined cheese similar to feta, made from cow or sheep milk, were staples. These cheeses were often produced locally and served sliced or crumbled .

• Bread and Pastries: Freshly baked bread was a daily essential, often accompanied by homemade jams or honey. In some regions, pastries such as kürtőskalács (chimney cake) were enjoyed, though these were more commonly associated with festive occasions .

• Fresh Vegetables and Fruits: Seasonal produce like tomatoes, cucumbers, and capsicum (where we also get our beloved paprika!) were sliced and served alongside the main items. Fruits such as apples, plums, and cherries were also common, either fresh or preserved .

• Dairy Products: Yogurt and sour cream were frequently included.

Coffee - Coffee held a significant place in Hungarian and Romanian culture, influenced heavily by Ottoman traditions. Introduced to Hungary in the 16th century during Ottoman occupation, coffee became deeply ingrained in the social fabric.

In the 19th century, the prevalent method of coffee preparation was similar to Turkish coffee: Finely ground coffee beans were combined with water (and sometimes sugar) in a small pot, then brought to a boil. This method produced a strong, unfiltered coffee, often served in small cups.

[neowqing]

Walking away from last meeting, Severus remembers saying that Sirius was like a rooster or a turkey, walking around proudly with his chest out, even though he was useless, and he was sure that it meant nothing until he returned to Grimmauld Place.

Remus was used to bringing Sirius things, food, cigarettes, some board games, once an album and pencils because Sirius had decided to become an artist, but finding a chick and a large cage was an unexpected request and Remus tried his best, and found it to satisfy his old friend's whim, that he could not leave the four walls. So now, sitting at the table, Sirius was fussing with his new friend, feeding him porridge, Remus decides not to ask questions so that Sirius could explain his behaviour later, but Severus is less tactful, entering the kitchen he immediately sees a spectacle.

"Have you found a fellow human being, or have you decided to grow your own lunch?" Snape stands in the doorway.

"How dare you!" Sirius puts his hand over the chicken, causing it to flutter, and Black raises his hand to avoid crushing it. "You can't even joke about killing our child."

Remus coughs, covering his mouth, trying to blend into the wall without being seen.

"What?" Severus remains motionless, perhaps he has misheard.

Sirius picks up the bird and the bowl of porridge to approach.

"I walk as proud as a rooster, so mum hen, please take part in our child's life too" Black doesn't stop, walking on, going up to his room to leave the chick in its cage while the Order meeting takes place.

Snape turns around, making his cloak shimmer, and follows Sirius up the stairs, and Remus catches snatches of their words.

"Don't quarrel in front of the child..." And "You've lost your mind, what a child..."

[petite-anni]

💜meals and health💜

The struggle of having meals that taste good, increase your bodies health and also drop fat is real.

1. a real breakfast

I’ll die with this. Breakfast is a must.

Start your morning with fruit, veggies some carbs and protein. That’s how you stay full over the day and get vitamins and nutrients in right away.

You can also add cucumbers, mint, lemon or lime into your water for the same affect.

You start your day good, it’ll motivate you and bring you energy. Your mood will lighten up and you feel energetic to go about your daily schedule.

My favorite breakfast will forever be porridge, with one banana and fruit. On the side a hot green or camomile tea.

1. lunch or no lunch

Im not huge about 3 meals a day. I eat when I’m hungry. Wether you have a light snack, such as rice cakes, yoghurt, veggies, fruit or have a full meal is really up to you. Just make sure it’s worth the calories and is nutritious.

I usually enjoy chia pudding (put chia seeds in milk/water and a bit of yoghurt with banana or other fruit) or go for a real lunch, when I feel like cooking.

Meals with cabbage, veggies, salad, chicken, turkey, eggs or potato’s are ideal.

When I really go for chicken or any kind of meat, I make sure to use little to no oil or remove it when it’s cooking.

3. dinner

This is important, because with an empty stomach I can not fall asleep.

Dinner is either creatively put together or keep it simple. Normally, I have something that I really enjoy eating. Just keeping out fats and heavy foods that keep you up at night or get you bloated.

I avoid pasta and pizza.

Rice is a go but you gotta measure it smartly, because it can be a calorie bomb.

Potato’s are a go at anytime. They keep you full fast and long and they are low in calorie. Also, have some veggies. It’s actually that simple.

4. hard truth

You ate too much? You work it off and compensate for it.

You can’t expect to be lighter and slimmer the next morning magically.

Be disciplined. Work for what you want to achieve. You body deserves good treatment.

You can achieve anything, just have faith and be patient while you work on your discipline🙏🏻💓

[azaleaaa-blog]

Xavier learns to cook for you

On a quiet morning, you poke your head out to find Xavier in the kitchen. You found kitchen utensils fill all the space on the counter, some even scatter on the floor, too. Rice and flour all over the table and stove. There's a huge block of half frozen chicken on the cutting board. And there's a suspicious burning smell that comes from the pot Xavier currently stirs.

"Xavier?"

He turns around, and you laugh spontaneously. Xavier is, more or less, the same mess as the kitchen. Flour on his cheeks and hair, and some brownish paste you don't recognize on his temple.

"What are you cooking?"

You ask as you walk closer to him. Carefully avoid some pan and spatula in your steps.

"Chicken porridge."

"Oh?" You didn't expect that. "Why chicken porridge?"

He averts his eyes bashfully and scratches the side of his neck. "If you are sick, at least I want to be able to cook something that would make you feel better. But, as you see, I'm not very good at it."

He waves helplessly towards the brown bubbling liquid in the pot.

Ah.

How could you not guess? Xavier would always think about others. Would always try to help those around him. Selfless and thoughtful.

Your heart swells with affection.

"Let me help. I have tried to make it once before." You said with a smile.

Xavier's face brightened. He nods excitedly. "You are a life saver! Does this count as a cooking date?"

"Only if the food is edible."

The kitchen is warm, filled with both of your laughter.