#Original Large Fried Chicken

[najia-cooks]

[ID: Two large flatbreads. The one in the center is topped with bright purple onions, faux chicken, fried nuts, and coarse red sumac; the one at the side is topped with onions and sumac. Second image is a close-up. End ID]

مسخن / Musakhkhan (Palestinian flatbread with onions and sumac)

Musakhkhan (مُسَخَّن; also "musakhan" or "moussakhan") is a dish historically made by Palestinian farmers during the olive harvest season of October and November: naturally leavened flatbread is cooked in clay ovens, dipped in plenty of freshly pressed olive oil, and then covered with oily, richly caramelized onions fragrant with sumac. Modern versions of the dish add spiced, boiled and baked chicken along with toasted or fried pine nuts and almonds. It is eaten with the hands, and sometimes served alongside a soup made from the stock produced by boiling the chicken. The name of the dish literally means "heated," from سَخَّنَ "sakhkhana" "to heat" + the participle prefix مُـ "mu".

I have provided instructions for including 'chicken,' but I don't think the dish suffers from its lack: the rich, slightly sour fermented wheat bread, the deep sweetness of the caramelised onions, and the true, clean, bright expressions of olive oil and sumac make this dish a must-try even in its original, plainer form.

Musakhkhan is often considered to be the national dish of Palestine. Like foods such as za'tar, hummus, tahina, and frika, it is significant for its historical and emotional associations, and for the way it links people, place, identity, and memory; it is also understood to be symbolic of a deeply rooted connection to the land, and thus of liberation struggle. The dish is liberally covered with the fruit of Palestinian lands in the form of onions, olive oil, and sumac (the dried and ground berries of a wild-growing bush).

The symbolic resonance of olive oil may be imputed to its history in the area. In historical Palestine (before the British Mandate period), agriculture and income from agricultural exports made up the bulk of the economy. Under مُشَاعْ (mushā', "common"; also transliterated "musha'a") systems of land tenure, communally owned plots of land were divided into parcels which were rotated between members of large kinship groups (rather than one parcel belonging to a private owner and their descendants into perpetuity). Olive trees were grown over much of the land, including on terraced hills, and their oil was used for culinary purposes and to make soap; excess was exported. In the early 1920s, Palestinian farmers produced 5,000 tons of olive oil a year, making an average of 342,000 PL (Palestinian pounds, equivalent to pounds sterling) from exports to Egypt alone.

During the British Mandate period (from 1917 to 1948, when Britain was given the administration of Palestine by the League of Nations after World War 1), acres of densely populated and cultivated land were expropriated from Palestinians through legal strongarming of and direct violence against, including killing of, فَلّاَحين (fallahin, peasants; singular "فَلَّاح" "fallah") by British troops. This continued a campaign of dispossession that had begun in the late 19th century.

By 1941, an estimated 119,000 peasants had been dispossessed of land (30% of all Palestinian families involved in agriculture); many of them had moved to other areas, while those who stayed were largely destitute. The agriculturally rich Nablus area (north of Jerusalem), for example, was largely empty by 1934: Haaretz reported that it was "no longer the town of gold [i.e., oranges], neither is it the town of trade [i.e., olive oil]. Nablus rather has become the town of empty houses, of darkness and of misery". Farmers led rebellions against this expropriation in 1929, 1933, and 1936-9, which were brutually repressed by the British military.

Despite the number of farmers who had been displaced from their land by European Jewish private owners and cooperatives (which owned 24.5% of all cultivated land in Palestine by 1941), the amount of olives produced by Palestinians increased from 34,000 tons in 1931 to 78,300 in 1945, evidencing an investment in and expansion of agriculture by indigenous inhabitants. Thus it does not seem likely that vast swathes of land were "waste land," or that the musha' system did not allow for "development"!

Imprecations against the musha' system were nevertheless used as justification to force Palestinians from their land. After various Zionist organizations and militant groups succeeded in pushing Britain out of Palestine in 1948—clearing the way for hundreds of thousands of Palestinians to be dispossessed or killed during the Nakba—the Israeli parliament began constructing a framework to render their expropriation of land legal; the Cultivation of Waste Lands Law of 1949, for example, allowed the requisition of uncultivated land, while the Absentees’ Property Law of 1950 allowed the state to requisition the land of people it had forced from their homes.

Israel profited from its dispossession of millions of dunums of land; 40,000 dunums of vineyards, 100,000 dunums of citrus groves, and 95% of the olive groves in the new state were stolen from Palestinians during this period, and the agricultural subsidies bolstered by these properties were used to lure new settlers in with promises of large incomes.

It also profited from the resulting "de-development" of the Palestinian economy, of which the decline in trade of olive oil furnishes a striking example. Palestinian olive farmers were unable to compete with the cheaper oils (olive and other types) with which Zionist, capital-driven industry flooded the market; by 1936, the 342,000 PL in olive oil exports of the early 1920s had fallen to 52,091 PL, and thereafter to nothing. While selling to a Palestinian captive market, Israel was also exporting the fruits of confiscated Palestinian land to Europe and elsewhere; in 1949, olives produced on stolen land were Israel's third-largest export. As of 2014, 12.9% of the olives exported to Europe were grown in the occupied West Bank alone.

This process of de-development and profiteering accelerated after Israel's military seizure of the West Bank and Gaza in 1967. In 1970, agriculture made up 34% of the GDP of the West Bank, and 31% of that of Gaza; in 2000, it was 16% and 18%, respectively. Many of those out of work due to expropriated or newly unworkable land were hired as day laborers on Israeli farms.

Meanwhile, Palestinians (and Israeli Palestinians) continued to plant and cultivate olives. The fact that Palestinians do not control their own water supplies or borders and may expect at any time to be barred by the military from harvesting their fields has discouraged investment and led to risk aversion (especially since the outmoding of the musha' system, which had minimized individual risk). In this environment, olive trees are attractive because they are low-input. They can subsist on rainwater (Israel monopolizes and poisons much of the region's water, and heavily taxes imports of materials that could be used to build irrigation systems), and don't require high-quality soil or daily weeding. Olive trees, unlike factories and agricultural technology, don't need large inputs of capital that stand to be wasted if the Israeli military destroys them.

Olive trees are therefore the chosen crop when proving a continued use of land in order to prevent the Israeli military from expropriating it under various "waste" or "absentee" land laws. Palestinians immediately plant olive seedlings on land they have been temporarily forced from, since even land that has lain fallow due to status as a military closed zone can be appropriated with this justification. The danger is so pressing that Palestinian agronomists encouraged this habit (as of 1993), despite the fact that Israeli competition and continual planting had lowered olive crop prices, and despite the decline in soil quality that results from never allowing land to lie fallow. In more recent years, olive trees have yielded primary or supplementary income for about 100,000 Palestinian families, producing up to 191 million USD in value in good years (including an average of 17,000 tons of olive oil yearly between 2001 and 2009).

Israeli soldiers and settlers have famously uprooted, vandalized, razed, and burned millions of these olive trees, as well as using military outposts to deny Palestinian farmers access to their olive crops. It prefers to restrict Palestinians to annual crops, such as vegetables and grains, and eliminate competition in permanent crops, such as fruit trees.

This targeting of olive trees increases during times of intensified conflict. During the currently ongoing olive harvest season (November 2023), Gazan olive farmers have reported being targeted by Israeli war planes; some farmers in the West Bank have given up on harvesting their trees altogether, due to threats issued by organized networks of settlers that they would kill anyone seen making the attempt.

The rootedness of olive trees in the history of Palestine gives them weight as a symbol of homeland, culture, and the fight for liberation. Palestinian olive harvest festivals, typically celebrated in October with singing, dancing, and eating, have inspired similar events elsewhere in the world, aimed at sharing Palestinian food and culture and expressing solidarity with those living under occupation.

Support Palestinian resistance by calling Elbit System’s (Israel’s primary weapons manufacturer) landlord, donating to Palestine Action’s bail fund, and donating to the Bay Area Anti-Repression Committee bail fund.

Ingredients:

For the dish:

2 pieces taboon bread, preferably freshly baked

2 large or 3 medium yellow onions (480g)

1 cup first cold press extra virgin olive oil (زيت زيتون البكر الممتاز)

1 Tbsp coarsely ground Levantine sumac (سماق شامي / sumaq shami), plus more to top

Ground black pepper

For the chicken (optional):

500g chicken substitute

5 green cardamom pods, or 1/4 tsp ground cardamom

4 cloves, or pinch ground cloves

1 Mediterranean bay leaf

1 Tbsp ground sumac

For the nut topping (optional):

2 Tbsp slivered almonds

2 Tbsp pine nuts

Neutral oil, for frying

Notes on ingredients:

Use the best olive oil that you can. You will want oil that has some opacity to it or some deposits in it. I used Aleppo brand olive oil (7 USD a liter at my local halal grocery).

If you want to replace the taboon bread with something less laborious, I would recommend something that mimics the rich, fermented flavor of the traditional, whole-wheat, naturally leavened bread. Many people today make taboon bread with white flour and commercial yeast—which you might mimic by using storebought naan or lavash, for example—but I think the slight sourness of the flatbread is a beautiful counterpoint to the brightness of the sumac and the sweetness of the caramelized onions. I would go with a sourdough pizza crust or something similar.

Your sumac should be coarsely ground, not finely powdered; and a deep, rich red, not pinkish in color (like the pile on the right, not the one on the left).

For this dish, a whole chicken is usually first boiled (perhaps with spices including bay leaves, cardamom, and cloves) and then baked, sometimes along with some of the oil from frying the onions. I call for just frying or baking instead; in my opinion, boiling often has a negative effect on the texture of meat substitutes.

Instructions:

For the onions:

1. Heat a cup of olive oil in a large skillet or pot. Fry onions on medium-low, stirring often, for 10 minutes or until translucent.

2. Add 1 Tbsp sumac and a few cracks of black pepper and reduce to low. Cook for another 30 minutes, stirring occasionally, until onions are sweet, reduced in volume, and pinkish in color.

For the chicken:

1. Briefly toast and finely grind spices except for sumac (cardamom, cloves, and bay leaf). Filter with a fine mesh sieve. Dip 'chicken' into the pot in which you fried the onions to coat it with olive oil, then rub spices (including sumac) onto the surface.

2. Sear chicken in a dry skillet until browned on all sides; or bake, uncovered, in the top third of an oven heated to 400 °F (200 °C) until browned.

For the nut topping:

1. Heat a neutral oil on medium in a small pot or skillet. Add almonds and fry for 2 minutes, until just starting to take on color. Add pine nuts and fry until both almonds and pine nuts are golden brown. Remove with a slotted spoon.

To assemble:

1. Dip each flatbread in the olive oil used to fry the onions, then spread onions over the surface.

Some cooks dip the bread entirely into oil; others press it lightly into the surface of the oil in the pot on both sides, or one side; a more modern method calls for mixing the olive oil with chicken broth to lighten it. Consult your taste. I think the bread from my taboon recipe stands up well to being pressed into the oil on both sides without tearing or becoming soggy.

2. Top flatbread with chicken and several large pinches more sumac. Bake briefly in the oven (still heated to 400 °F / 200 °C), or broil on low, for 3-5 minutes, until the sumac and the surface of the bread have darkened a shade.

3. Top with fried nuts.

Musakhkhan is usually eaten by ripping the chicken into bite-sized pieces, tearing off a bit of bread, and eating the chicken using the bread.

Some cooks make a layered musakhkhan, adding two to three pieces of bread covered with onions on top of each other before topping the entire construction with chicken and pine nuts.

[lisaloutwo]

Meal 1 (9:00 AM): Blended Breakfast Purée

• McDonald’s Big Breakfast with Hotcakes (3 orders): 4,020 calories

• 6 Hash Browns: 960 calories

• Large Caramel Frappuccino: 470 calories

• Maple Syrup and Extra Butter: 450 calories

Preparation:

Blend the Big Breakfasts, hash browns, syrup, butter, and frappuccino into a smooth purée. Add water or milk as needed to reach a thin enough consistency for a funnel.

Total: 5,900 calories

Meal 2 (11:00 AM): Doughnut and Coffee Smoothie

• Krispy Kreme Original Glazed Doughnuts (12-pack): 2,280 calories

• 6 Chocolate Iced Doughnuts: 2,280 calories

• 2 Cinnabon Classic Rolls: 1,760 calories

• Large Starbucks White Chocolate Mocha: 620 calories

Preparation:

Blend the doughnuts, Cinnabon rolls, and white chocolate mocha into a rich, sugary purée. Add water, milk, or cream to thin out the texture.

Total: 6,940 calories

Meal 3 (1:00 PM): Pizza and Soda Purée

• Pizza Hut Large Stuffed Crust Meat Lovers Pizza (2 pizzas): 6,960 calories

• Garlic Cheese Breadsticks (8 pieces): 2,320 calories

• 2 Large Pepsi (32 oz): 400 calories

Preparation:

Blend the pizzas, garlic breadsticks, and Pepsi together into a savory purée. Add additional soda or water as necessary to thin out for the funnel.

Total: 9,680 calories

Meal 4 (3:00 PM): Burger and Fries Shake

• Five Guys Bacon Cheeseburgers (3 burgers): 3,180 calories

• Five Guys Large Fries (3 orders): 3,930 calories

• Five Guys Large Chocolate Milkshake with Whipped Cream (2): 2,000 calories

Preparation:

Blend the burgers, fries, and milkshakes together to create a rich, thick purée. Add more milkshake or milk as needed for consistency.

Total: 9,110 calories

Meal 5 (6:00 PM): Nugget and Fries Combo Purée

• McDonald’s 60-piece Chicken McNuggets: 2,820 calories

• 3 Large Fries: 1,470 calories

• 4 McDonald’s Apple Pies: 920 calories

• 2 Large Coca-Colas: 620 calories

Preparation:

Blend the McNuggets, fries, apple pies, and Coca-Cola together. Use additional soda or water to ensure smoothness.

Total: 5,830 calories

Meal 6 (9:00 PM): Dessert Frenzy

• Dairy Queen Large Oreo Blizzard (2): 2,280 calories

• Large Brownie Batter Blizzard: 1,340 calories

• 2 Cheesecake Blizzards: 2,280 calories

Preparation:

Blend all Blizzard desserts together for a thick, ice cream-based purée. Add some milk or cream to reach the desired consistency.

Total: 5,900 calories

Daily Total: 30,360 calories

🤯🤯🤯

[echantedtoon]

Househusband Upper Moons: Kokushibo

(This is inspired by @rottencoreflesh101's Househusband Upper Moon posts. (Warnings: Their blog does contain NSFW elements and themes that not everyone may like or be comfortable with AND is only for 18+ folks. Just a heads up. But this WILL STAY Sfw.) I did link to the post in question down below. If enough people like househusband Kokupuffs drabble I'll do a second one based on their headcannons of Househusband Gyutaro. This is probably not gonna be very long and it's from the perspective of a female reader.

Househusband Upper Moons Concept- @rottencoreflesh101

Demon Slayer- Koyoharu Gotouge

Original Post:

The thunderstorm I'm the distance between the roof and sky haunted the eardrums as the storm drew ever closer in the darkness.

There truly was nothing but the warmth of the small fireplace within the cozy small house in the middle of the woods. A cozy small hideaway nobody knew about but himself and a select few individuals. It would shield him well from the harsh elements and keep him safe and sound from the outside. It was his own little safe haven. Just himself to worry about now.

The bubbling pot of soup on the stove wafted in waves making even the most stuffed person desire to eat it as he smelt it. A hum of satisfaction left his throat as he nodded and let go off the soup ladder after stirring it a few times. This would surely last a few days. Cooking enough food to last a few days was always good. Having leftovers only meant you didn't have to cook over a hot stove for a good while. It left time to focus on other things. Speaking of other things- Multiple eyes turned to the door as thunder drew ever closer and closer judging by the sounds in the distance. Now where was she?

She should arrive back any minute now. After all her workplace wasn't that far from here, and it was simply only a matter of walking and returning to the home. Strong hands wiped themselves on a nearby cloth he slipped from the countertop and removed the remains of elk blood from his hands. The rest of the body that couldn't be used would have to be disposed of later otherwise wild animals would be coming up to the house and wondering the garden and animals. No. He couldn't have that. A fox already made off with one of his wife's chickens she'd be upset if it happened again. As if on cue, his head immediately perked up at the distant sounds of approaching footsteps small and dainty. A smile grazed his mouth and his head turned to the door in wait as the footsteps approached closer and closer. The door slid open after the footsteps paused a brief moment outside of the house.

"Ah. Welcome home little lamb," a man's voice greeted smiling widely at the figure of the woman walking inside. "You've arrived...just in time for dinner."

You smiled from the doorway slowly and moving to take off your sandals. Your feet sore from the long walk to town and back where you worked for a company making clothes to then be shipped to various places across the country. Your feet were sore from walking so much, your hands sore from threading the needle for hours, and your body aches with tiredness from a long day. Upon walking into the house your senses were hit with the beautifully delicious smells of meats, fried potatoes, and a few other things. You were only free of your shoes for more than three seconds before someone much larger was standing over you. Six eyes met yours-

A pair of lips met your temples. "How was ...work?"

You smiled up at your husband. Usually someone would be pretty intimidated by a six foot something demon with fangs and six eyes staring down at them so closely like this, but you couldn't see it. Especially when he wore the cloth around his head keeping most of his hair from his face and the large apron drapped over him. He looked very alluring and domestic. 

"It was business as usual. Im sure I pricked my finger more times in one day than you've swing a sword in your entire lifetime."

"I doubt that." 

"Smells good. What's for dinner?"

"Elk stew. ..I caught it just early this morning." Ah. Most likely when the sun wasn't up yet and you were still asleep. A strong arm pulled you forward into the house and the door was closed. "Eat. Your body's strength... needs to replenished with rest also."

You didn't fight it and only leaned into his touch. "Sounds great. Aren't you hungry though?"

"My hunger shall be... quenched within an hour." Which translated to him waiting for sunset to hunt for his normal food source. "Did you...have a pleasant day?"

You nodded sighing. "Just a bit tired. Big orders means lots of work, but it's my fingers that really hurt." Your hands flexed as you pouted remembering all the times you pricked yourself today. 

A much larger hand grabbed the smaller one bringing it to the demon's eyes. Six orbs examined them closely before a gentle kiss was placed onto the skin. "If your hands are sore....then I just might..have to feed you..myself."

"N-No you don't." Despite it he chuckled deeply and making your own face red. "I can still take care of myself."

"If you insist...Now sit and rest... Your body needs it."

[mariacallous]

Looking for a Shabbat dinner centerpiece or a hearty midweek meal? Picture cubes of eggplant, zucchini, bell peppers, tomatoes and potatoes cooked together to create that special harmony only veggies that grew together in the sun achieve. You’re thinking of ratatouille, right? But what I have in mind is a heartier dish from Romania and Bulgaria called ghiveci or guvech.

Romanian ghiveci and Bulgarian guvech are indeed very similar to the famous ratatouille, but being peasant’s food, they’re more rustic and substantial. The veggies for guvech are cut into large, uneven chunks, and can be cooked all together at once, while for ratatouille, each component is fried separately before they are combined. This makes guvech preparation much easier, and allows for creative improvisations; you can easily add any vegetables in season. Besides the mandatory eggplant, zucchini, peppers, tomatoes and potatoes, green beans or okra are common. Guvech is seasoned very simply with salt, black pepper and occasionally paprika, to let the produce shine. The Bulgarian version is cooked with fatty meat, while most Romanian versions are vegan.

“In Bulgaria, guvech used to be cooked in a clay pot called gyuveche,” Etti Ben Yosef, a Bulgarian Jew who lives in Israel, told me. “The stew was cooked in the oven for many hours at low temperature.” 

But these days, when Ben Yosef makes guvech for Shabbat dinner, she uses a pressure cooker to precook the beef short ribs before adding them to the vegetables. Then, she cooks the entire stew on the stove for a long time, putting it in the oven for the final hour to give it a nice crust. She feels lucky to share the recipe with her adult children. “I keep the tradition so the kids will remember,” she said.

Guvech’s origins can be traced to the Ottoman Empire that ruled the Balkan region for hundreds of years. The original Turkish dish, called güveç, is cooked in a wide, clay dish by the same name. It’s very similar to the Bulgarian guvech and includes chicken, lamb or beef. There are many other variations of the dish throughout the Balkans. Bosnian Đuveč or djuvec is the name of a clay pot as well as a veggie casserole that’s cooked with rice; Greek giouvetsi is also cooked with rice. In Romania, the eggplant-tomato version is considered summer ghiveci, while winter ghiveci is prepared with carrots, cabbage, cauliflower and mushrooms. 

Bulgarian Sephardi Jews and Romanian Ashkenazi Jews brought guvech to Israel (where it’s pronounced “ghe-vech”) and made the dish widely popular. No wonder, given that eggplant and tomatoes are so beloved in Israel and are of such high quality. Early Israeli versions can be found in Molly Bar David’s “Folkloric Cookbook” from 1964. The first version includes 14 different vegetables (including celery root and cauliflower) and meat. The second version is for Romanian ghiveci that’s baked with a whole fish on top.

The vegetarian Romanian version is probably most common in Israel nowadays. And although it is  traditionally served over rice, I like to serve it on another Romanian staple, mamaliga. It’s the definition of comfort food. 

This recipe is the Bulgarian version of guvech that includes meat. You can make the recipe vegetarian by simply omitting the meat. The rest of the ingredients and instructions stay the same.

Notes:

It is recommended, and easy, to add any seasonal vegetables to the basic guvech. Consider adding: 1 lb butternut squash or sweet potato, cut into ½-inch dice; ½ lb whole okra, stems removed; or ½ lb green beans, cut into 1-inch pieces.

You can cook the meat, if using, up to two days in advance. Store the cooked meat in the fridge with the cooking liquid. Before using, remove from the fridge and discard the fat on the top of the pot (the fat will be solid and white in color). 

Guvech keeps in the fridge for up to four days.

[hyperfix-wip]

Webbed Together

Pairing: Hobie Brown x Fem!Reader/ Spider-Punk x Fem!Reader

Word count: 1.9k

Author's Note: Credit goes to @the-kr8tor for their original characters Ramona and Billie. I also want to thank @pinksugarscrub as my beta reader!

Tags: Parent Trap!AU, Dad!Hobie AU, Twin!AU, Billie and Ramona!AU, Older!Hobie, Mom!Reader, Older!Reader

Chapter 3: First Meetings

Laughter echoes against the cobblestone walls as campers rush into the mess hall and line up at both sides of a large central buffet table. Tides of hands reach out to piles of food lined up along the long table– plates of hamburgers and hotdogs, containers filled with chicken nuggets and fries, cling-wrapped sandwiches and burritos, and everything in between. Sweet treats also await for the hordes of children– fudgy brownies, frosted sugar cookies with rainbow sprinkles, custardy pudding cups– while platters of fresh fruits and vegetables remain barely touched in the sidelines. 

A beaming Billie eagerly grabs at a plastic-wrapped sub sandwich before stacking it along the small mountain on her plate, carefully balancing the heavily growing tray with one hand while her free one wiggles her fingers in anticipation for another morsel of food to pique her interest. Annie stands right beside her with her own tray, staring at Billie’s behemoth of a plate with a mix of disbelief and intrigue.

“Are you seriously going to eat all that?” Annie blurts out as she looks up at the taller Billie, who only grins wider as she snatches a brownie.

“Oh c’mon, I’m Hank Marvin!” Billie giggles, her eyes lighting up as her nimble fingers grab at a sugar cookie. “Haven’t eaten in hours since I got here! My dad always told me to tuck in and take advantage of all the all-you-can-eats whenever we have the chance to go out–”

Billie’s eyes nearly bulge out when she sees a lunch lady set down a tray of the most immaculate macaroni and cheese she’s ever seen– creamy, bubbling yellow cheese hiding underneath the golden-browned breadcrumbed top, steam wafting from the tray with the baked cheesy smell tantalizing her nostrils– and a shuddering gasp hitches into the poor girl’s throat at the sight.

“Bloody hell, I’m in love.”

“Jesus Christ, dude–”

While Billie nearly floats towards the middle of the buffet table with Annie following along with a snicker, Ramona approaches from the opposite side. Her long fingers reach out for a chocolate pudding cup before another set of fingers accidentally brushes against hers. Her hand flinches away as she glances up to her side, and her eyes meet a frantic boy quaking before her.

“Uh, I– uh…”

Ramona stares at the boy with a furrowed brow before grabbing the pudding cup and sets it down on his tray.

“You can have it,” she reassures him with a sheepish smile. “I can get something else.”

The boy’s pale face flushes red as she looks away from him before he snaps out of his stupor and follows her lead. “You’re, uh, you’re in the jazz ensemble program here, right?”

Ramona glances back at him with a quirked eyebrow before nodding along self-consciously. “Uh yeah, for bass.”

“Yeah, I know.”

Ramona furrows her brows at the boy, who flushes harder and panics. “I-I mean– I mean, I know be-because I’m in the program too! I just– I’m in the brass section, and I just happened to see you at the front with a bass, and I didn’t think this year’s bass player would be a girl– Not that I think it’s weird! I was just surprised, ‘cuz it’s normally one of the counselors playing, and…”

The boy shrinks down in front of the taller Ramona as he trails off, fingers fidgeting with the indents on the plastic tray. “I’m sorry, I swear I’m not trying to be weird or an asshole…”

A soft huff of laughter slips through Ramona’s lips while she grabs a water bottle from the table. ���It’s okay, I get it,” she quietly waves him off with an understanding smile. Her face then scrunches up slightly for a moment, hesitation flickering in her eyes, before she glances back at the boy.

“...I’m Ramona, by the way.”

Ramona struggles not to squirm as the boy stares at her with a dropped jaw, but he soon relaxes with a relieved smile. “I’m Arnold.”

The two finally relax around each other as they start to talk and continue down the line, with Ramona slowly approaching the middle of the table. At the same time, Billie heads to the same direction from the opposite side, her eyes dead-set on whatever else is available while her hand grabs for a carton of apple juice. Both girls continue to shuffle along the table until they stand directly next to each other, unaware of each other’s presence. Just as they are about to turn their heads and see each other, one of the counselors steps between them with a plate of her own.

“Excuse me, girls!” The chipper elderly counselor chuckles as she grabs a large spoon. “I just got to have a scoop of these pineapple pieces.”

The counselor carefully shoves the spoon into the large bowl filled with the bright-yellow chunks and scoops them up before holding it out to the unsuspecting Ramona. “Would you like some, dear?”

Ramona looks up at the woman and shakes her head with a sheepish smile. “Oh, no thank you, ma’am. I’m allergic.” Ramona then gives a parting nod before walking off with her tray and her new-found friend.

“Oh, well, too bad.” The counselor then turns to Billie, who just shoved a slice of watermelon into her mouth, and holds the spoon out to her. “What about you, dear?”

Billie swallows her mouthful, her tongue quickly licking off some of the juice off the corner of her mouth, before she looks up at the elder. “No thanks, ma’am. Wish I could, but I’m allergic.”

“Oh yes, dear, you’ve told me that alrea–”

The counselor does a double take at Billie, her eyes wavering in confusion as her face pinches up. “How– how did you get there?”

Billie looks at her with the same look of confusion before shrugging it off and walking away with Annie, all the while the counselor shakes her head with a chuckle.

“Oh well, you’ll have to excuse the ol’ gal, first day of camp and all. At least I’m not adding salt into the sugar shakers– no, no, wait, it’s actually sugar in the salt–”

As the counselor turns back to where Billie was, her eyes almost bulge out when she meets with a different camper, who looks back at her with a puzzled scrunch on his face before walking off, leaving her alone and more perplexed than before.

----

Arnold's a cool guy, Ramona thinks as she glances over at him fidgeting with the piston valves on his trumpet. After their encounter in the mess hall, the two have started to hang out after their jazz band rehearsals, finding kindred spirits in each other. Right now they’re sitting under a towering oak tree with their instruments, away from some of the other kids playing. Arnold cringes at the sight of growing sweat stains on the other kids' clothes, preferring to stay under the shade and not burn under the sun.

Ramona doesn’t mind, though. She prefers his awkward small talk from the other kids’ clique-like attitudes anyway.

“So your mom actually made that sweater?” Arnold asks in awe as his eyes land on the small pops of red knit cherries lining along Ramona's sweater.

Ramona glances up from her bass guitar, a shy smile curling up on her lips while her eyes light up with pride. “Yeah, this was actually one of the first things she made.”

She adjusts her bass on her lap, the sunshine beaming through the foliage of the large oak tree. “She’s been making clothes for a long time, since highschool I think? She’s been doing a lot of freelance commissions for a lot of people recently though.”

Arnold nods along as he unscrews the mouthpiece off his trumpet to clean it. “So like a part-time fashion designer?”

“Kinda, yeah,” Ramona shrugs before propping her bass on her lap again. “I mean, she has a clothing brand, but it’s not like those fancy designer ones. There’s more for everybody, I guess.”

Her nimble fingers deftly position themselves along the fret and strums, and alow chord reverberates in the air. She then reaches up to one of the tuning begs and twists them before strumming again. “Her designs are so cool though, especially when she’s working with my uncle, who’s an artist based in Brooklyn. He'd sketch out one of his–”

THWAK!

Arnold flops back onto the ground and lands on his back while a volleyball bounces and rolls away from them.

“Arnold!”

Ramona quickly sets her bass down as she crawls up to her friend in a panic. “Oh my god, are you okay?!”

Arnold only groans as he rubs his forehead before an obnoxious laugh rings out nearby.

“Oh man, that was a loud smack!” A stocky boy laughs at a nearby volleyball court. Some of the other kids around him try to turn away and stifle their snickers.

Ramona bristles at the laughing kids as she helps Arnold up, her chest burning and swelling up to yell at them.

An angry British girl’s voice rings out soon after.

“Oi! Why the hell are you laughing, you daft idiots! You just hit somebody!”

Billie hollers at the kids on the other side of the court, her face pinched up into a dirty look. “Benny, you bollock, you better hope a ball doesn’t knock your fat head off your neck!”

She then jogs up to the duo with an apologetic frown as she picks the volleyball off the ground.

“You alright, mate?” Billie asks with a furrow in her brows. “ ’m sorry about those arseholes. Annoying lot, ain’t they?”

She shuffles her feet and lowers her head in regret despite not being the one at fault. “Your head’s hurting, innit? You need help going to the infirmary?”

Ramona lets out a grudging sigh before she finally looks away from Arnold and at Billie. “If you can, do you think you can pick up his stuff from the ground and follow us? I can help him walk–”

As soon as Ramona meets Billie’s eyes, they both freeze at the sight of each other. Dark curly tresses, deep-set brown eyes, darker complexion, tall and lanky stature– no matter how they look at it, they're nearly identical to each other. As they continue to stare at each other in disbelief, Arnold quietly groans as he looks up with a pinched up face.

“Ramona, I’m fine, you can let me go now–”

Arnold nearly snaps his neck as his eyes double-take at Billie, his jaw dropping and his eyes bulging out. He then looks back at Ramona as his face pales.

“...Ramona, is it just me, or do I see two of you in front of me?”

Ramona finally looks away as she looks down at her injured friend, her face scrunching up with shock and worry. Billie snaps out of it soon after and starts picking up Arnold’s trumpet, screwing the mouthpiece back on before putting it in its case and picking it up. She then grabs the bass and slings it over her shoulder before helping Ramona carry Arnold.

“C’mon now,” Billie mutters out to Ramona, “we can’t dally from this right now. Gotta getcha friend checked up first, alright?”

Ramona hesitantly looks back up at Billie before she finally nods. The two girls then carry Arnold over to the nearby infirmary, ignoring the giant elephant in the room for now.

----

British Phrase of the Chapter:

Hank Marvin - Starving (Cockney). Reference of 1960's-1970's British guitarist Hank Marvin.

Reference: https://www.businessinsider.com/british-slang-that-will-confuse-anybody-who-didnt-grow-up-in-the-uk-2017-11#hank-marvin-44

[sketchspook]

The Father of Hell

Watched Hazbin and Helluva the other day. No expectations really, never paid much mind to it until watching, but I'm head over heels for the Lucifer there; love the little guy. Did a "redesign" for fun; feel waaaay fonder of the OG, however.

Apologies to this tumblr account. Been having a rough time with job bouncing and instability, but I'm trying as best as I can since I don't want to just leave this account all dried up like I have. I'm going into a far better place, so I plan on just going apeshit with it once I can utilize my time. I want more Michael myers, more tf2, more dbd, just the absolute works. I want to draw Gummigoo from the digital circus, even. I want to commit to all sorts of things; the passion is there, our time together just... isn't there yet, yet.

This particular Lucifer Morningstar of mine, though he's rushed, I still have attachments to and he's got his own lil tidbits. Listing them below for my sake (VERY long, he's my boy and I wish I could dedicate more to him other than a one time post):

As tall as an redwood tree: the floor of the seven rings used to be stairs for him before he expanded and relinquished them to the other sins.

He played a huge part in giving the other sins their forms - mutilating himself in the process to ensure they had a foundation to build on. Legs to Asmodeus. A piece of his chest, down to his core, for Beelzebub. The original eyes on his face to Mammon; he's got enough to spare. (All I got atm)

His wings got fried like chicken on his way down and instead adopted heavy drapes to compensate for the weight of his wings being largely gone; part of him now, but he's able to take it off... roughly the weight of the moon.

Can't speak, no mouth! It's all telepathy; Charlie is the only one that he can converse with at length without fear of giving hallucinations for days to (at it's worst, schizophrenia indefinitely). Not actual words, just images of things and emotions not designed for things other than angels. It's lonely being at the top.

Even though his legs have been replaced by a tree-like entity of himself (crafted from the remaining ashes of his wings), he can teleport wherever he likes, but the ground is a little weird after, aside from the pride ring.

He can shrink, but never pass 20ft; goes blind after.

His hair tastes like apple dumplings and will keep you fed for a century! (Charlie's only snack once every 100 years)

In his presence, one feels watched from every angle and you are! Thoughts and emotions aren't safe from him. He already has dozens of replies, via symbols and mental images, at the ready for however you choose to voice yourself to him.

Be not afraid: though he can't converse with hellborn or sinners at length, he's a gentle giant. You're an imp from the wrath ring that wants to know what stars are? He has a vast amount of knowledge and know-how (He helped create the universe!) and he'll offer you a memory so far from earth, humans will never see it. If only he could get out more without destroying your farmland wherever he teleports (it won't grow back). Also a pushover. A rug you have people wipe their feet before entering. He was rebellious, outspoken once; never again.

The snake around his waist is the key to his... most "extreme" form. Face of a "Leo." They don't call him the "dreamer" for nothing - if you know, you know.

His violin and bow, the Morning and evening star. Lucifer and Noctifer. No strings, but upon playing, is a melody that Heaven can't replicate. He can spontaneously create without, but upon forgetting about it or it just leaving his mind for other things, it disappears; his violin is what gives substance for his dreams to continue existing without him. He hasn't played it since expanding the seven rings.

His fingers, how do I describe this, can grip both ways: put a palm on the back of his hand? His fingers can hold yours as though you were touching his palm.

His "ducks" are rats and gerbils (just cause one of the stray flames I drew of his hair looked like one and I didn't have the heart to get rid of it)

[oranjank]

Chicken Paprikash

In the spirit of #draculadaily, here's a translated-by-me recipe for chicken paprikash from an old Serbian cookbook that used to belong to my great-grandmother. Other than adding a few editorial comments and reformatting it to make it easier on modern readers, I haven't changed the text much. Photo of original recipe below the translated text.

Chicken Paprikash with Nokledes

Ingredients:

For the paprikash:

1 whole chicken (recipe starts by assuming you will pluck your own!)

0.5 kg yellow onion (about one large one)

1 tablespoon butter (can substitute other cooking oil, but I recommend using a saturated fat)

1 tsp paprika*

1 red bell pepper OR 1 long, green pepper

4-5 roma tomatoes

Parsley

Black pepper

For the nokledes:

2 egg yolks

1 knob butter

"Snow of two egg whites" I think this means egg whites beaten to stiff peaks

Flour (no quantity specified, typical grandma stuff)

Pluck and clean chicken, if not done already, and cut into pieces. Peel onion and slice into thin ribs. Place in pot (I recommend a large dutch oven) one tablespoon of butter/oil and heat over medium-high heat. When butter/oil is hot, add sliced onion and salt immediately, then fry until completely soft. Add on top one tsp* paprika, bell pepper or long green pepper with the chicken meat, and fry with onion until onion is completely fried (nice and brown). Pour in enough water to cover meat. Add into the paprikash 4-5 chopped tomatoes, finely chopped parsley, a little black pepper, and salt as needed. Lower the heat and simmer the paprikash on a low flame until nearly all the water reduces, all while stirring frequently to avoid burning. When it is ready, it must have enough juice. Serve the paprikash with nokledes that are made in the following way:

Mix together all ingredients listed until well-beaten. Fill a pot with water, salt it, then bring to a boil. Wet a spoon in the boiling water and use it to take out little balls of dough and add them to the boiling water. Remove nokledes when cooked, and finish by frying in butter (you can also just use store-bought...)

Personal note: the original recipe calls for "one blade" of paprika, which my dad says is equivalent to one teaspoon. I have no idea what it means, so if anyone knows please share in the comments!

Unfortunately the bit about the nokledes got cut off, so if anyone wants the rest let me know and I'll get my dad to photograph the rest.

[macgyvermedical]

What type of diet and/or exercise regimen would you recommend for a trans dude working to build a more muscular and masculine figure?

Different things work for different people, but personally I used Nerd Fitness, which was different 10 years ago when I started it, and personally I like the original NF better than the current one.

So here's a brief overview:

Bodyweight circuits for exercise. Do these about 3x per week. Look up videos on youtube for anything you don't know how to do:

Warm up by doing some active stretching that works every body part you plan to use during your workout. This can include arm circles, monster kicks, front bends, cat/cows, butt kicks, anything that stretches you with movement. Try to avoid a warm up that has you doing static stretching (stretching without moving the body part in question).

Then once you feel nice and warmed up,

5 Push ups (if you can't do a push up, do knee push ups or chair push ups, or wall push ups, and work your way up to standard push ups)

10 Squats (hold onto a chair for balance if you need to)

5 Sit ups (use an exercise ball if you need to)

5 Lunges each side (hold onto a chair if you need to)

10-Second plank (if you can't do a standard plank for 10 seconds, do a knee plank)

15 Jumping jacks

Take as long as you need to do these exercises, and pause for a break/go on to the next exercise if your form starts to slip. Try to keep breaks to less than a minute. It is better to do 5 wall push ups well than 1 standard push up badly.

If you haven't exercised in a while, try doing this 1x through for three times the first week, 2x through for three times the second week, and 3x through for three times the third week, and then start increasing the number of each exercise you are able to do for subsequent weeks. For example, try 7 push ups/12 squats/7 sit ups/etc... per circuit. Adjust to your needs and always strive to do a little more each week.

Once you're done with the workout part, cool down with static stretches of any muscle you used during the workout.

For diet, I did a modified paleo diet. The following is a good shopping list for 1 week (back in 2017 this was a $5/day shopping list, but it definitely costs more now).

Protein:

Eggs- 2 dozen

Meat- 2lbs of either chicken breast, stew meat, or sausage

Tuna: 2 cans, packed in water

Vegetables:

Sale veggie- 2 pkg

Cauliflower- 1 large

Broccoli- 1 bag

Stewed tomatoes- 2 cans

3lb Onions- (every other week)

3lb Sweet potatoes

10lb Russet potatoes- (once per month)

Fruits:

Sale fruit- 2 or 3 pkg

Canister Prunes or Raisins

Frozen fruit of choice

Nuts:

Whole raw almonds- 1pkg

Other:

Dark Chocolate- 1 large bar

Tea- 100 tea bags (once in a blue moon)

Instant Coffee- 120 cups worth (once in a blue moon)

Olive or sunflower seed oil- (once per month or so)

Salt- one large canister iodized or box kosher, (literally once per lifetime)

Condiments (I excepted these from paleo rules for my own sanity) mayo, ketchup, pickles, mustard, etc…- (once in a blue moon)

Dried spices- (once in a blue moon)

Vinegar of choice- (once per month or longer, depending on how much you like vinegar)

Bouillon cubes- (once in a blue moon)

Meal Prep Tips:

Boil most of the eggs, leave a couple for if you like fried eggs occasionally or want to make banana-egg pancakes. You can easily take boiled eggs in a lunchbox or eat them with prunes or raisins for a quick breakfast.

The prunes/raisins and almonds were and still are my go-to easy breakfast.

Grate the cauliflower- steam it with salt, oil and spices as a side later or mix it with the crumbled sausage for a 1-bowl meal

Cook the sweet potatoes and regular potatoes ahead of time. There are lots of ways to do this and they are all delicious. They are also easy to pack in a lunch box.

Hard veggies like carrots, cauliflower, sweet potatoes, and broccoli are AMAZING when tossed in olive oil, salt, and spices and roasted or broiled.

Cook and pull the chicken (easiest in a pressure cooker but you can also boil the crap out of it too). Makes it super versatile. You can make like 10 different things with it and they will all feel different. No more plain chicken boob for you!

Stew with the stew meat, any veggies (including onions and potatoes) and spices will give you many easy future meals and can be made with just about anything you’ve got (throw the stewed tomatoes in this too).

Tuna salad (with oil and vinegar and spices if you’re really feeling paleo or mayo, onions and pickles if you’re me) and leftover roasted veggies make a great lunch.

[faeriekit]

Health and Hybrids (VII)👽👻💚

[I can't remember the original prompt posters  for the life of me but here's a mashup between a cryptid!Danny, presumed-alien!Danny, dp x dc, and whatever prompt made the one body horror meat grinder fic.]

PART ONE is here PART TWOis here PART THREEis here PART FOUR is here and PART FIVE is here PART SIX is here and this is lucky number seven baby 💚 Ao3 Is here for all parts

Where we last left off... Martian Manhunter did a Whoopsie. Things are better than they were though, so...success? YJ got in trouble with Batman but Danny wasn't exactly cognizant enough to notice so that got relegated to the tags.

Trigger warnings for this story:  body horror | gore | post-dissection fic | dehumanization (probably) |  my awful attempts at following DC canon. On with the show.

💚👻👽👻💚

The debriefing team meets J’onn in a meeting room not too far from the cafeteria. By the time he makes it to the correct floor, the team has clearly been waiting on him; on the table are a pack of Chocco cookies, a large order of fries, and a ten pack of chicken nuggets. 

J’onn inclines his head. It’s nice to see that his favorite meal is remembered. “Thank you, Batman.” 

Batman’s nod is equally as formal. The human is already most of the way through his italian sub. “No thanks needed. Were you successful in your contact with the entity?” 

Ah. Right to the details, then. J’onn obliges the question with a seat at the table. Black Canary, a chair to his right, gently scoots over to provide him more space. 

In the end, J’onn is relieved to have a prop in his hands. It creates a small, if flimsy barrier between himself and the images the boy had shown him. 

What he knows now…

J’onn sighs. 

The room is peaceful— likely intentionally so, in order to ease the oncoming conversation. Wonder Woman and Black Canary sit beside each other, their individual meals open and half-eaten between them. As the facilitator of the conversation, Batman sits at the end of the table; as the secretary of the meeting, Superman sits beside him, his sloppy joe in one hand and a keyboard beneath the other. 

J’onn quietly tears open the packaging of his pack of cookies. Plucks one from its plastic insert inside. Chews. Swallows.

“The first thing to note is that although the entity's primary language is not known to me, he is extremely familiar with humans— and, likely, with Earth.” 

Superman swallows the rest of his sandwich in one gulp, nods, and begins to type. Batman turns to face J’onn directly. “How so?” 

“He has many memories of flying freely in Earth’s atmosphere, specifically; the stars line up with the star patterns as viewed from this planet. He is intimately familiar with several aspects of Earth’s culture, including the idea of ‘a bedroom’, which he identified as his own, and a childhood toy, which was a scale model of an Earth spacecraft. If I was shown a variety of options, I could likely pick out which craft specifically. He has a mind for detail.”

Superman’s fingers flick rapid-fire over the keyboard. J’onn happens to be aware of the Krytponian’s career, as the local telepath, but rarely is the man's passion so clearly shown; the focus and quick hands certainly project an air of professionalism around an otherwise at-ease debriefing room.

“You’re using he/him,” the Kryptonian observes, making additional notes in the margins of the in-progress report. “How did that come about?”

“He does have an understanding of the most common gender identities of Earth, and has a favored one. How he came about it…” J’onn inhales. It is a very human gesture. “…I do not know his origins for certain, but I have several theories.”

Batman cuts off an oncoming question from Superman with a silent wave of his hand. “Base information first. Questions and theoreticals at the end.”

Superman’s face at the hindering of his professional instincts is perhaps less than completely mature. “Yes, yes.”

J’onn takes a second cookie.

It’s easy to report on certain things; the entity's initial inability to communicate without acute pain, the subsequent reaction of the teenage team, the eventual discovery of clear communication and transference of emotion.

“Not all of his thoughts were particularly clear.” J’onn nibbles on the edge of his cookie. Black Canary pushes aside her empty tray of California rolls to give her pen and notepad space. This portion of the debrief necessitates more of her skills. “Most of the memories that he aimed to show me were value-neutral, or otherwise unrelated memories, likely due to the stress of his current and deeply traumatic situation. He preferred memories that did not have pain or distress associated with them. When prompted—I displayed my own perspective of the crash we had found him in— the associated memories that were brought up implied that not only was he the pilot of the craft, but that he had a hand in building it.”

Superman’s rhythmic tapping undercuts the soft conversation. “So he is sapient, then, despite the difficulties in communication,” Wonder Woman confirms softly.

“More than. There are echoes of formalized schooling and other instruction in his mind, although I couldn’t discern the topics of the lessons.”

“Were there other beings like him? Anyone we could reach out to? Family members, friends…?”

J’onn hesitates. There’s no way to confirm what he saw. However…

“…There are memories that he has of his own person, in which he looks very human. His self-conceptualization is of an adolescent human boy.”

The grief in the room is palpable. J’onn doesn’t have to look up to feel it press in on him from all sides.

“I suspect that…in the same way that Superman has largely spent his life on Earth, this boy has at least spent several years on Earth as well. There are glosses of memories of an adapted human house, though I was unable to safely explore how far back they went. There are humans who prominently play a role in his self-image and expected worldview, although the mental representations of them have scarred over with some form of psychological trauma. Overall, despite his current form, there was likely a time this child felt safe around both humans and human scientists.” 

Silence rules over the room. 

“...Do we know what changed that?” Black Canary asks, without looking up from her notes. Her pencil eraser taps quietly against the table. 

J’onn sets the package of cookies to the side. “Not…so exactly. There were hints of memories threaded throughout the recalled moments that he did not wish to pin down. Claustrophobia. Fear of incarceration. The fear of physical harm done to him— and the psychological harm of knowing with exact certainty that there were those willing to hurt him. …Intimate betrayal.” 

Superman and Black Canary’s eyes quietly close. Batman looks hardly moved under his cowl; if J’onn could not feel the man’s stress spike in the air, he might not have ever known how worried the human was. 

J’onn isn’t actually meant to know Superman’s circumstances as to his arrival on planet Earth, but there are equally few ways that any of the league can hide the entirety of their thoughts from him— especially at the time of his initial arrival into the League, when mental defenses had yet to be erected in a comprehensive manner. This situation smacks strongly of the story of Clark Kent, son of his human parents. 

“There is no way to confirm my guess without further conversation on the topic. However, it is incredibly likely that he lived under the radar, on Earth, for a lengthy enough span of time to acclimate to human society. The discovery of his non-human biology would have spurred further action, and the result would have given reason for his fear of medical professionals, scientists, and adult humans. Likely, the other humans in his memories meant to support him, and were prevented from doing so or injured in the process. The vehicle that had crashed back to Earth would have served as—”

“—An escape route,” several voices overlap together. 

J’onn nods. His fingers steeple together. “There is no way to know how far into space he had gotten, or if his escape was aided by others of his species, or even if the point of origin was in low atmosphere or Earth's orbit. Either way, our patient is alone now, is in extreme background pain, has lost perception in several of his senses that exclude taste, and has reluctantly bonded with the junior team due to a lack of more familiar presences.”

Batman’s emotional presence circles into a silent exhale of frustration. “That would be Impulse’s under-the table operation,” the human correctly identifies, dry as the desert. 

(J’onn is certain that the vigilante will never reveal it, even to himself, but the exhale has its own quiet, microscopic tinge of reluctant amusement.)

“I don’t think it qualifies as under-the-table if you have a running file on his activities, dated and timed by every individual interaction,” Superman points out, not even bothering to glance at the now-slightly-peeved Batman. 

“Hn.”

“Oh, very mature.” 

“It was not league sanctioned.”

“Neither are the majority of your movements,” Wonder Woman points out. The fork from her salad punctuates her sentence with a tease and a wave. “If you informed us your security plans for the Watchtower any earlier than a week after you had already installed the new measures, I would assume you were an imposter and prepare for battle.”

Batman hardly looks put out. He achieves deception with his whole body. J’onn genuinely admires how discordant his behavior and churning thoughts can be. 

“Hn.”

 “Oh, very well-spoken,” Black Canary flatters insincerely, toying with her pencil against her paper. 

It would be very immature of Batman to sulk. Therefore, he does not. 

“Returning to the point of this meeting… Are there any other pertinent details we ought to know?” 

J’onn considers shrugging. He packs three chocco cookies into his mouth instead, chews, and swallows. There are only two cookies left in the pack, now. 

“The biological mechanism utilized for his empathic sense is vibrationally-based. That would be why my initial attempt at communication failed so tremendously; if he does have a neurological center, it is too deeply damaged to interpret telepathic input. He has a fondness for astronomy, can recognize the color red with greatest ease, and likely needs high contrast if we would like him to recognize any materials we provide. He imprinted on Impulse likely because the boy’s presence in the Speedforce mimics the energy readings he expects to see in those of his species.” 

Superman hums. His fingers fly. “So he must have met others of his species before.” 

J’onn makes a so-so motion. “There is no way to be certain. His abilities may be instinctually pre-programmed, or he may have had access to outside materials to teach him.” 

Batman’s arms cross. His sandwich, which had been sitting on the table, is now entirely vanished— wrapper and all. “Was there any evidence as to either particular theory you were able to pick up on?”

“...No.” Hadn’t he indicated such?

“Was there any personal information you were able to pick up on?” 

J’onn has to think about that one. The topic hadn’t come up during their mental exchange, when so much more of the focus had been on creating basic understanding of the Watchtower, his presence within their base as a patient and not as a prisoner, and his current location on the moon. Anything else that J’onn might have gleaned would have to be determined on supposition and analysis. 

“...He enjoys astronomy.” J’onn tries to recall the exact memories he had seen, and only ends up reiterating what he has already said. Perhaps highlighting certain moments will make the narrative clearer. “His childhood dwelling had little stickers on his ceiling. They would stay lit even when the room went dark—”

“...Glow in the dark stars,” Superman whispers under his breath. J’onn exhales. This isn’t a familiar point of human culture for him. He’s glad his description is recognizable. 

“Yes. He organized them to mimic Earth's constellations. He had smaller, handheld versions of rocket ships. Even if he had not known of extraterrestrial origins, he was drawn to the cosmos.” 

Batman coughs. The gesture is a reflex to suppress some welling emotion. J’onn pretends that it works. “Both items are…markers of a young child,” Batman admits. “Indications of a quite young, very human childhood.” 

Ah. J’onn can more deeply recognize the sense of tragedy welling in the air. The items are astronomy-based yes, but they equally highlight his age. 

“When he donned a human appearance, he matched the coloration of the human family who took him in. As fleeting as their acquaintance might have been, he modeled his human form after them— solidly enough and surely enough that, if he feels strong enough to form a mental self-representation, I can see the outline of it in his memories.” No details, beyond vague hints in the entity's mind of his hair and her eyes and their skin.

“Very loved,” Wonder Woman murmurs. 

“Very young, and very loved,” Black Canary reiterates with a sigh. Her notes are a black mess of graphite. “And now he fears adult humans.” 

“Yes,” J’onn admits. The cookies are gone. He sets the wrapper to the side. He reaches for the chicken nuggets. “That said, he has an instinctual familiarity with black and with red hair, will likely experience less fear with a female profile as opposed to a male, and responded favorably when offered the chance to interact with an adult who did not mean him harm. The fact that we have largely indestructible adults at our disposal works to our advantage.”

It is very, very clear who exactly fills that description. Wonder Woman sits up straight, laces her fingers together, and very kindly curtails her smugness. If Superman and Batman would like to be jealous of her current position, they may do so at their own discretion.

[hungry-eel]

The Gluttony showcased in Octavinelle (reupload)

Before I begin with the main content, if you see this and notice that it may possibly seem familiar, that’s because it is. I originally uploaded this onto an old and abandoned secondary account, where around the time I was still in a bit of denial of my stuffing interests. I decided to polish and RE uploaded this analysis onto here because one, it honestly suits this account more, and two, I want this to reach its intended target audience that this blog revolves around, I hope you enjoy this analysis, and with that, let’s get back to the regular scheduled program. —

Hello! I hope you are all doing well! In the past, I have mentioned that Octavinelle is the embodiment of gluttony, and that I would elaborate on that statement more. Well, this is the post where I elaborate on the statement.

Please be aware that although I am going to try and show some cannon proof, at least for this first part, this is still overall just something silly that I enjoy talking about, and having dumb fun with. This is something that doesn't have to be taken entirely seriously, nor is this a statement that I am trying to prove as absolutely true. It just happened to be that I found some cannon connections from my observations.

Be prepared for spoilers from here on!!!

=============================

Azul ~

As of right now, the Azul we have currently doesn't seem to be all that much of a glutton (when it comes to food). However, something else that is also a highly crucial part of Azul’s character was how he was an ex-glutton. Azul goes out of his way to avoid going back to his old roots and maintaining a slim figure, often trying to eat a restrictive and balanced diet. Although Azul has the desire to maintain his health and slim figure, he still does not enjoy the process, and especially preferring fried foods over health foods. He still doesn’t like when others pressure him to eat a lot, even if it’s with his favorite foods, but will still seize any opportunities that he can to enjoy his favorite foods, weather it’s birthdays or other private occasions. Azul is also very well equipped in knowing how to run restaurants as his grandma ran a restaurant, and runs a restaurant himself currently, that being the Mostro Lounge.

Azul’s incessant want to create new contracts as well as the consistent desire for power and control, can also be interpreted as a form of overindulgence on Azul’s end; no matter how much power he has over those he is controlling, it is never enough for him and he always wants more of that power.

In Azuls Birthday Boy card, his groovy art has Jade handing him a plate of chicken and also has a couple of home screen lines asking what we were implying when we were giving him food.

Floyd ~

Floyd has his own personal knack for food, as he enjoys snacking, and indulging in various amounts of his favorite foods such as takoyaki and candy. Even the shelves in his room is lined by snack bags that he uses to have midnight snacks. Floyd has also mentioned in his birthday boy vignette, that he likes to play food games with Jade where they try the most outlandish food combinations possible. Whenever Azul comes back during any of these games, they would try and eat all of the evidence. There was also a brief moment in Treys lab coat vignette where according to Jade, he had to look for more strawberries as a result from Floyd gorging on their current strawberry supply.

Jade ~

Now with Jade, he is an entirely different beast in it of itself! I have always been fascinated with Jade in the sense that when you first see him, he would be the last person you would expect would have a large appetite, especially as he always appears to be very poise and classy, but the more you look into his character, the more clear his tendencies become and its so hard to not see. Because of such there is much more to talk about with Jade than with the other two characters.

Here is a list of canonical things that Jade has done already.

Jade loves to heavily indulge in his hobbies and passions especially when it comes to mountaineering, terrariums, cooking, and his fascination with mushrooms. When it comes to mushrooms in particular, he both enjoys eating mushrooms himself, and finds pleasure in watching others indulge in mushrooms as well (showcased in Jade’s Labcoat Vignette).

In Book five, Jade mentions to Grim that primarily goes to the mountains to search for food. More specifically to try and harvest edible plants and organisms. During which Grim asks, "So basically, you just go to the mountains and scavenge for grub?" and Jade responding with, "Heh heh. I certainly wash and cook what I find, but generally speaking, yes."

There are two notable Home Screen lines where Jade mentions about his eating. One with his PE uniform where he mentions how he has to eat before working out as he lacks energy efficiency. The other one is with his Birthday Boy where one of his lines states, “Are you surprised by how much I eat? Heh heh, I get that a lot. It's why I'm so tall.”

It is hinted and shown throughout various Home Screen lines and vignettes that Jade likes to try many various types of unique foods, either out of interest and/or to create new recipes for the Mostro Lounge.

Legitimately almost all of the harveston event! Just in his event vignette alone he ate over five servings with Sebek and even afterwards wanted to grab desert. Even Sebek, who is also a pretty hearty eater, even admits that Jade has eaten more than him. Jades and Sebeks escapades are just as prominent in the main even itself where Jade is tasked by Azul to try as many unique dishes as possible so they can be added to the mostro lounge menu. Jade proceeds to try out different kinds of foods at the vendors, and in the celebration the night before the game, Jade and Sebek were tearing through the buffet.

In addition, here is some other moments that revolves around Octavinelle in general.

At the very end of the Beans day event, Jade and Floyd have an exchange on how they were craving shawarmas.

Jade and Floyd generally point out how little Azul eats and occasionally tease him about it as well. In the Halloween event when Azul comments on how watching Ruggie eat gives him heartburn, Jade replies by saying, "I believe you could put him to shame if you felt so inclined."

In Jade’s Halloween Vignette, Ruggie mentions on how Jade and Floyd are well built for Apple bobbing as they are tall with pointy teeth.

Both of the tweels have mentioned at least once that they eat a lot because they are so tall or that they are growing boys.

=============================

A question that I have heard often is why say Octavinelle in particular? Besides, there are other characters that also showcase gluttonous tendencies, some may even more so than most of the octatrio.

I say Octavinelle in particular as it is the only dorm where all of the students exhibit the traits in one way or another, as well as serving the aesthetics of the dorm, with its lounge being a restaurant. Octavinelle is also the only dorm where this topic had at least a bit of a curtail point in its Book, that being with Azul’s backstory and how he used to be chubby and an ex-glutton.

=============================

Headcanons!

Here is a small list of some of the headcanons that I have that circle around the topic. I might add more headcanons to the blog as I go, and if anyone else has any headcanons of their own, feel free to share them with me.

Jade is the complete opposite of Azul regarding food and dieting. While Azul tries his best to eat healthily, with moderate portions, Jade eats the most unhealthy foods out of the trio and eats the most out of them as well. Jade also likes to taunt Azul with that fact as well.

Floyd is the kind of character who would most likely eat anything even if it seems inedible.

Jade and Ruggie like to often join together just to try out many different kinds of foods together, similar to what happened in Ruggie's School uniform vignette, and Jade's harveston vignette. There would also be times were I would joke that Jade, Ruggie, and Sebek would band together just to have food.

I like to imagine that the Coral Sea is like a dog-eat-dog world, and along with this, the tweels have to rely on hunting other live fish for their own survival. When coming onto land, the tweels had to learn that they shouldn't hunt for animals publicly.

Whenever there are instances where Azul has to leave the Mostro lounge for an extensive amount of time, Jade and Floyd would keep trying to take advantage of that time to play their game where they eat weird food combinations (mentioned in Floyd's birthday vignette).

=============================

Thank you so very much for reading my essay rambling on a topic that, to be frank, is overall goofy and silly. If there was anything that I missed or forgot to mention feel free to let me know. Otherwise, I certainly had a lot of fun making this, and I hope you found some entertainment or even some insight from this as well!

[valleyof-goldenlilies]

Love and The Lack of Ass (modern!Aegon Targaryen x Reader)

Summary: Aegon expresses his feelings over your very apparent thirst for Miguel O’Hara in the most Aegon way possible: sulking. 

Warnings: Nothing of note, except for excessive thirsting over Miguel O’Hara 

Word Count: 1.6K 

Disclaimer: I do not own any of the House of The Dragon/Fire and Blood characters. All credit for the characters goes to George RR Martin and the showrunners of HOTD. The GIF above is also not mine, original credit to the creator is stated above. Go check them out! 

A/N: You guys deserve something fluffy after my last Aemond one shot 💗 also, I’m thinking of writing some HOTD one shots based off different Barbie movies. Would anyone be up for that? 

The sound of footsteps on tiles and laughter echoed throughout the otherwise silent apartment block. “Okay, I gotta admit,” Aegon said, while teetering under the weight of two Hawaiian pizza boxes, a few boxes of chicken wings and fries, and some bottles of beer they bought from the convenience store, as you fumbled for the keys in your bag. “That it was a pretty kick ass movie. Although I still prefer the other Spiderman movies.” 

You gasp, kicking open the door to your apartment, “Aegon I don’t know what your middle name is Targaryen, you take that back right now.” 

“Middle name is Sexyman, gorgeous,” Aegon winked, although he shrieked and quickly ran inside the apartment the both of you shared when you began whacking him with your bag. “This is assault, and I’m calling my lawyer!” Aegon called across his shoulder as he sat down the bags that he was carrying on your dining table. 

“Well, I’m telling your lawyer you deserved it,” you declared, crossing your arms as you gave him a vicious glare. Sunfyre, Aegon’s large goldendoodle, sniffed eagerly at the delicious smell emanating from the pizza and chicken wings, but Aegon shooed him away. “How dare you say that Tom Holland’s Spiderman movies are better than the Spiderverse movies? I ought to break up with you.” 

“Hey, I have a man crush on Jake Gyllenhaal, alright? Can you not shame me for my sexual preferences?” Aegon huffed, but he backed away squealing when you tried to jab him in the ribs. Sunfyre barked excitedly and leaped at Aegon, seeming to think it was a new game. “Woman! Now you’ve turned my dog against me too?! What kind of world is this?” 

 “A very fair one,” you said smugly, reaching to scratch Sunfyre behind the ears. “You see, even your dog is telling you you have bad taste.” 

“Hey, don’t act like you didn’t like this movie solely because of Miguel O’Hara,” Aegon protested, backing away to their bedroom for safety purposes. “Who are you to judge me for my man crush?” 

“That’s because Jake Gyllenhaal is an awful piece of trash who groomed Taylor Swift,” you huffed. “And can you blame me? Miguel O’Hara is so-” you mimed swooning from all the hotness as Aegon rolled his eyes. “Like goddamn, take one look at his strong, hulking build and tell me you don’t feel things!” you demanded. Aegon rolled his eyes again, with such strength it was a wonder they didn’t tumble to another dimension. “Sorry, love, I’m not into muscles.” 

“Well, I am,” you declared, hands on your hips. “And don’t even get me started on his asscheeks. Boy if I could-” 

“LA LA LA LA CAN’T HEAR YOU!” Aegon yelled, stuffing his fingers into his ears as he made a swift retreat to your bedroom. Sighing in relief as he shut the door to your bedroom, he quickly changed out of his leather jacket and white shirt into a white t-shirt and grey sweatpants. He caught sight of himself in the mirror and flexed, smirking at his own reflection. Damn, I’m hot, he thought to himself, turning to get a glimpse of his side angle. But his smirk faded into a frown as he examined his reflection to look at his own…well, rather flat, behind. Remembering your earlier comments about liking men with muscles, he tried flexing his arms, but they seemed quite pathetic in comparison to Miguel O’Hara’s. 

He felt annoyance beginning to rise in him, ‘Damn it, I’m Aegon Targaryen, the hottest guy in King’s Landing University! Every single guy wishes they could be me! How am I getting insecure over some 2D character?’ But then he heard you squealing from the living room while being on a phonecall, no doubt with one of your friends, “I KNOW RIGHT! Miguel is LITERALLY my dream man. I mean, take one look at those muscles and that ass and my god did you see his fangs-” 

Unable to hear anymore, Aegon flung open the door to your bedroom, dramatically stomping to your living room, and curled up on the couch, pouting as he turned on the TV. You frowned a little as you moved around your kitchen, laying out your dinner while you reheated the pizza in the oven. Your best friend, Baela, was still babbling in your ear about the Spiderverse movie, specifically about some very explicit things she would like to do to Miguel O’Hara and Spider-Gwen, but you were no longer paying attention. 

“Baela, babe, I’ve gotta go. I’ll talk to you tomorrow.” You hung up, just as the oven emitted a ‘ping!’, signalling that the pizza was done. But that could wait. You made your way to your couch, catching sight of Aegon curling up on the couch, a cushion in his arms and a pout on his face as he browsed through the selections on your streaming channel. You nearly giggled at how adorable he was. Was he bothered by your earlier thirsty comments about Miguel? You knew how sensitive your boyfriend could be at times. Suddenly, a lightbulb shone in your head, and you grinned maliciously to yourself as a plan began to hatch in your brain. 

Aegon yelped when a figure leaped onto him, dropping the remote on the floor with a loud clatter. Sunfyre came up to the couch, barking excitedly, as Aegon tried kicking at his girlfriend, though in vain. “Woman! What are you doing?!” 

“Showering you with my love, of course,” you declared, as you planted loud kisses on Aegon’s face. Laughing and somewhat screaming, Aegon tried to wrestle back control so he was on top again, but you weren’t letting that happen, not on your watch. “Are you upset about my earlier comments about Miguel?” Aegon immediately stopped struggling, instead pushing his girlfriend away and scooching to the far end of the couch, resuming his despondent pouting. You wanted to let out an “awww” at how cute your boyfriend was acting, but you knew now was not the time. 

Aegon felt arms wrap around him and soft kisses on his neck, but he didn’t budge as he continued to turn his head away and pout. “Why don’t you go and find muscular Miguel instead? He would be better to cuddle with than me,” Aegon grumbled. You couldn’t help but burst out laughing at Aegon’s blatant display of jealousy. “Oh, my love, you know that it was all just talk right? You’re still the one I love most,” you teased, running a hand through his gorgeous white blonde hair. “It doesn’t really seem like it,” Aegon grouched. 

You were about to make a snarky comment, but you caught the faintest hint of hurt in his voice, and your expression softened. Aegon might seem childish, but after being his girlfriend for nearly two years, you were sensitive to his every mood change, and how insecure he could be despite his cocky, confident front. You knew Aegon had a rocky childhood and struggled with the concept of commitment and love, and his fears of you leaving him when you decided you had enough of him one day. Biting your bottom softly, you moved to embrace him, resting your head on his shoulder as you spoke sweetly, “Aegon…you know you’ll forever be the only one for me right? Even though I behave like a horny, thirsty teenager sometimes, I want you to know, I love you the way you are. And Miguel O’Hara’s muscles will never get in the way of that.” 

Aegon was quiet for a while, and you were worried that he was really hurt this time, but then he mumbled, “...even if I don’t have any asscheeks?” You laughed, tilting his head to face yours again, and your heart melted at the sight of his soulful purple eyes. “Yes, even if you don’t have any asscheeks. I’m not that fond of big butts anyway, yours is just nice.” 

Aegon brightened immediately, abruptly leaning in to kiss you. The both of you made out on your couch for a while, tangling your hands in each other’s hair and moaning quietly. You were interrupted however, by Sunfyre’s bark and him scrambling on the couch to get it on the “group cuddle”. 

“Damn, can’t a man not be cockblocked by his pooch for a moment?” Aegon grumbled as you both broke away from your kiss, grinning breathlessly at each other. Sunfyre stood on his hind paws to try and climb over you to Aegon’s lap, and you chuckled, “Apparently not. I think he’s telling us he’s hungry.” 

“Yes, for my attention,” Aegon said smugly as Sunfyre successfully managed to clamber over you and into Aegon’s lap. He scratched Sunfyre behind his ears and smiled, forgetting why he was even upset in the first place. “Looks like you’re not that unhappy anymore,” you noted with a smile. Aegon immediately tried to look pouty again, though since his heart was not in it anymore it just made him look impish instead of mournful. “Noooo that’s not true, I’m still in need of comfort. And a kiss,” he tried to move in for a kiss again, but you flicked him on the forehead. “Hey!” he cried out indignantly, but you soothed his complaints by leaning in to plant a quick peck on his cheek. “Let’s have dinner first, then you can have all the kisses you want in bed later.” Aegon grinned, and moved to shove Sunfyre off his lap, ignoring the large dog’s whine. “I’ll hold you to that, my love!” he called out as he bounded over to the kitchen to take the pizza out of the oven. 

You chuckled as you followed after him, Sunfyre begging at your feet for scraps. Screw Miguel and his muscles, who needs him when you have your own loveable little dork right here?

can someone tell me what level of thirst is considered unhealthy because i don’t think me and my friends know anymore. 

as always, let me know how you thought of this one shot in the comments and through reblogs! if you wish to be added to an aegon taglist, or any taglist for other HOTD characters, do comment down below! thank you for reading! 💗

[allfryam]

sub shop final part

The holiday season came to a close and the second semester was quickly approaching. Zach moved back into his dorm and prepared for his new classes. He got his job back at the original sub shop and he had ordered an XXL shirt that he was now wearing comfortably. He was determined to lose all of the extra weight he gained during Christmas break, and he got back in the gym. His tight gym clothes didn’t even cover his belly anymore, and his shorts were straining against his growing ass.

after only about 15 minutes of working out, Zach couldn’t stop himself from driving to McDonald’s and getting a large Big Mac meal. He was officially addicted to food and he hated it. How could he ever lose weight if he couldn’t stop himself from eating? Going to work later that night, Zach ordered his footlong Italian sub with everything on it, and he quickly scarfed it down. About an hour later, his manager asked him if he wanted a mess up sub that they were going to throw away. Zach hated to waste food, and it looked really good. He accepted the offer and tore through the second footlong. Zach left work stuffed, but he still had to attend a frat party that evening. There, he chugged beer like it was water, and gobbled up slice after slice of greasy pizza. When he eventually got back to his dorm, he took off his tight shirt and laid on his bed. He rubbed his stuffed belly and moaned a bit. His roommate Thomas took note of this and thought it was equally hilarious and sexy.

Thomas invited Zach out to dinner at his favorite restaurant and Zach thought it sounded great. He almost never got to hang out with his roommate, so this would be nice to catch up. At the restaurant, Thomas ordered a burger with some fries, and a coke. Zach ordered some fish, a personal pizza, some sliders, nachos, Mac and cheese, a buffalo chicken wrap, and a large cheesesteak. He washed it down with three large chocolate shakes, and a doctor pepper. Thomas was astonished. So was the waiter. When the food eventually arrived, Zach dug in. He gorged on the plates one by one, his shirt growing tighter with each bite. Thomas just munched on his burger and watched in amazement as he tried to cover up his boner. Zach finished before Thomas and leaned back in his chair. His shirt rode up to reveal his distended gut that had taken over his lap. As Zach rubbed his gut, he had a bit of a revelation. This belly wasn’t so bad. If he was able to pack away all that food with ease, why put that talent to waste.

a few months later, the semester was finally coming to a close. Thomas and Zach had been dating for three months now, and things were going great. Thomas loved to feed Zach and watch him grow, and Zach loved to eat. Thomas would make it an effort to get Zach full, but it always seemed like he could eat forever. Multiple doctors feared for Zach’s health but he was done caring. All he wanted to do was eat. The last time he had weighed himself, he was 328 pounds. That was almost a month ago however. He might be close to 350 now.

this has been my favorite story so far, as I took a lot of it from real life events. Let me know if I should ever revisit this story or updates if Zach in real life gets bigger.

[srovtl]

Offering A Prayer to the Wandering God Chapter 1

One afternoon.

Me, Figaro, and Arthur who had just finished his official duties, were walking through the bustling central market.

Arthur: Master Sage, Lord Figaro, thank you so much for coming to pick me up at the castle.

Arthur: I was planning to return to the magic manor this afternoon, but I'm glad I got to meet you two early!

Figaro: I'm so glad you're happy. We were just stopping by the wizard's house.

Figaro: Since we've come all the way to the capital, me and the Master Sage talked about coming to pick you up.

Akira: Yes! Arthur, thank you for your hard work. It's been a few days since we last met.

Akira: I invited you to the market to change your mood but... Will it be okay to walk around without disguising yourself?

Arthur: No problem. Lord Figaro cast a spell on me.

Arthur: The people walking down the street should be seeing me differently.

Akira: Great! Then you can stroll around with your head high. Are you hungry?

Arthur: A little... Come to think of it, I left without having lunch.

Figaro: We only had tea and snacks. Shall we have lunch first?

Figaro: We can eat as we walk, or we can decide after looking around.

Akira, Arthur: Yes!

Figaro, with his friendly smile, looked just like a doting relative with his younger cousins.

His tall stature and white coat fluttering in the wind made him stand out in the crowd.

As I followed behind him, Arthur and I looked around.

Saku-chan, who was in my arms like a stuffed animal, was twitching her nose slightly.

Street stall owners: These are high-quality violet sugar sweets! They melt in your mouth and have an exquisite taste!

Street stall owners: How about some fresh fruit candy wrapped in starch syrup? They're fresh and delicious!

Akira: Sugar sweets, sounds nice...

Arthur: Candy is good too... The fruits are big and look like they'll be filling.

Figaro: want to buy some? It feels more like a dessert than a meal though.

Akira: Oh, that's right. With so many, it's hard to choose...

Street stall owners: Hey misters! How about some crispy fried chicken?

Street stall owners: Ours is famous for its extra-large size. Look!

Arthur: True! It's so big that it covers your face.

Akira: It's quite impressive, isn't it? Ah, but the spices smell good...

Figaro: Even so, isn't it a bit too big? How many people can eat one of these...?

Street stall owner: Nah, Young people can eat it all easily. I'm sure you can do it too, mister!

Street stall owner: It's well pounded and spread out, so it's soft, juicy, and delicious.

Arthur: Gulp… This is the bold food that you don't usually get to eat...

Akira: It'll be so nice to bite into a freshly fried one...

Figaro: Youth's so nice. Well, let Doctor Figaro treat you this time.

Arthur: Yay!

Akira: Thank you!

Figaro: Owner, I want the spice one and.... oh there's also cheese powder flavor. Can I have one of each?

Street stall owners: Thank you!

Arthur: Is it okay, Lord Figaro?

Figaro: I think a whole one would be hard on my stomach. Just one would be enough...

???: Lord Figaro.

A voice crept up on us. And Saku-chan's tail puffed up softly.

I turned around to see a person with a hood pulled down over his eyes, one step behind us, looking down.

Sacrificium: …….!

Figaro: And you are...

Man wearing a hood: Ah... It's been a long time since I last saw you. Since the Walpurgis Night banquet.

Man wearing a hood: It's an honor to meet you. You're still as noble as ever...

As he bows respectfully, the warmth in Figaro's eyes fades away.

Akira: (Could it be...?)

Now, Figaro is a gentle and kind-hearted wizard who works as a doctor in a southern country.

However, he was originally from the northern country. He had a long and renowned life, and was a disciples of the twins alongside Oz.

If one doesn't know his circumstances, they wouldn't have behaved this way.

Figaro: ...Master Sage, Arthur. I'll be off for a bit.

Figaro: Here's some allowance. Use this and buy whatever you like.

Figaro smiles gently again and places some coins in Arthur's hand.

Arthur is also someone who knows his situation. He looks up at Figaro with intelligent eyes and nods obediently.

Arthur: I understand. If you call me, I'll be back right away, so please take your time to talk.

Arthur: Let's go, Master Sage.

Akira: Y-Yes. See you later, Figaro… I'll save the fried chicken for you!

Figaro: Yeah, thank you.

Figaro shakes his shoulders, waves his hand, and lightly taps the man wearing a hood on the shoulder.

Then he disappears into the crowd.

Figaro: Well, around here is okay...

Man wearing a hood: Lord Figaro… My apologies, was I being rude?

Figaro: Let's see. Well, It's rude of you to come out and talk to me in the middle of the city.

Man wearing a hood: I-I'm so sorry! Please forgive me...

Figaro: Oh, you don't have to kneel. I'm glad it was those kids who were with me.

Figaro: So, is there something you need? I've got people waiting, so keep it brief.

Man wearing a hood: Yes, yes... Do you remember Elijah?

Man wearing a hood: An eccentric, stubborn, troublesome guy… A wizard who devoutly worshipped the god of his hometown.

Figaro: Ahh, It's been a while since I heard that name.

Figaro: He's a devout man, so I remember him. He came to visit me on Walpurgis Night a few times in the past.

Figaro: I haven't seen him in about two hundred years... What happened to him?

Man wearing a hood: There are strange rumors going around near his mansion, deep in the eastern forest.

Man wearing a hood: Ever since the Great Calamity struck, eerie shadows and sounds have been lurking at night.

Figaro: The Great Calamity...

Man wearing a hood: Yes. I have heard that Lord Figaro has been chosen to be a sages wizard.

Man wearing a hood: Rumor has it that you are all working together to solve strange happenings in the world...? If so, I think you should keep that in your ears.

Figaro: Indeed, we are currently receiving requests from all over the world to investigate strange phenomenons caused by the moon.

Figaro: Is there a monster or something lurking around... If he isn't chasing it away, does that mean something might have happened to him?

Man wearing a hood: I'm not sure, but Elijah's actions have been getting out of hand for a while now.

Man wearing a hood: he's been going into not just human lands but other wizards' territories without permission, demanding money and valuables, and proposing strange deals...

Man wearing a hood: When asked why he keeps causing so much trouble, he says this.

Man wearing a hood: "Right now, I'm creating a god."

Man wearing a hood: "I need the materials and the technology to do that.”

Figaro: ………

Man wearing a hood: I don't know what Elijah is thinking.

Man wearing a hood: But I think he needs your guidance before he does something strange.

Man wearing a hood: The way you have always guided us at the Walpurgis Night...

Figaro: ...I see, I understand.

Figaro: I haven't seen him in a while, so if I get the chance, I'll visit him. You can go now.

Man wearing a hood: Yes...! I look forward to meeting you again.

Figaro: There are people like that sometimes, people who are so good at groveling.

Figaro: I wonder if we'll hear more reports like this from now on. If they were actually in trouble, they'd send word.

Figaro: It's not easy to live a long life.  it's so annoying I started to understand why Oz wanted to conquer the world.

Stall owner: That's amazing! Congratulations!

Townspeople: He's truly a sages wizard! He's got luck on his side!

Figaro: That's...

Akira: Great job, Bradley!

Arthur: You drew that card immediately,  it was cool!

Sacrificium: ……..

Nero: You did a great job, Bradley-kun.

Bradley: Damn it, You guys are just screwing with me.

Figaro: Hey, everyone. Bradley and Nero, What a coincidence.

Bradley and Nero: Ugh.

Akira: Ah, Figaro! Welcome back.

Arthur:  I saw them shopping by chance, so I watched the game.

Arthur: Apparently, it is a grocery store that gives out free gifts depending on whether you won or lost a card game. Nero said it was his favorite place.

Nero: Well, one of.

Nero: Bradley encouraged the store owner and won a series of games, so we got a lot of good vegetables.

Bradley: Tch... Nero, you tricked me.

Bradley: You said there's a place I'd like where you can get super fresh and tasty stuff at a reasonable price if you win the game.

Bradley: You'd think that was a butcher, wouldn't you? I wasted my time offering to be your baggage carrier.

Nero: You're the one who agreed right away. You said you were killing time and would come with me to do the shopping, so I went along with you.

Nero: Tonight's dinner is a full course meal with lots of vegetables. Make sure you eat well.

Bradley: I don't want it…

Figaro: You're not too bad too, Nero. Playing Bradley like a fiddle isn't something anybody can do.

Nero: No, it's not like that...

Bradley: Exactly. for a mere eastern cook you got some balls.

Bradley: Besides, even you could easily cheat away with a card like that.

Nero: idiot, what're you talking about.

Arthur: Haha. you two get along well.

Bradley, Nero: No we're not.

Figaro: They're in sync.

There's a certain tension, but strangely, the interaction between them is lively.

Akira: (Come to think of it, these four... They all lived in the north.)

Akira: (I don't see them together much, but somehow they seem to be on the same wavelength…)

Bradley: More importantly, Sage. You've got something tasty.

Bradley: It's so big, you can't eat it all by yourself. I will help you, You too, Prince.

Arthur: You mean this fried chicken? This is for Lord Figaro...

Bradley: Oh, the Sage's is spicy. *bite*.

Akira:  Ahh! I was saving the part with lots of spice..…

Figaro: Sure, if you're hungry I'll share. It's Bradley's favorite food after all.

Nero: Still, don't steal it.

Nero: By the way, what are you guys doing? Arthur is disguised with magic, so are you taking a sneaky stroll?

Arthur: Yeah. I haven't had lunch yet, so I wanted to fill my stomach and looked around the area.

Nero: Then the hot sandwiches over there are tasty too.

Nero: It's stuffed full and the bread is thin and crispy. My favorite is the one with scrambled eggs, mustard, and cheese.

Akira, Arthur: Sounds so delicious...

Figaro: You can't go wrong with a chef's recommendation. If you like, can you show us around?

Nero: Sure. I'll buy some eggs nearby too.

Arthur: Yay, thanks!

Arthur: But it'll be hard for just the two of you to go shopping. As a thank you for the hot sandwich, I'll help you out.

Akira: I'll carry the bags too!

Bradley: That'll be a big help. I'll let you carry this big bag of cabbage.

Akira: Wah So heavy...?!

Bradley: Haha! Don't fall down on us.

Figaro: careful, are you okay?

Nero: Hey, don't bully the sage.

Arthur: Master Sage, would you hand it over to me a little... It's really heavy!

Figaro: I wonder if it will be too bulky if I just lighten it with magic. I'll squeeze it tightly to make it smaller.

Figaro snaps his fingers, and the cabbages that were there once were small enough to roll around in the palm of his hand.

While relieved, my cheeks loosen a little at the light-hearted exchange taking place above my head.

Akira: (they're really on the same wavelength.)

Akira: (Even though They're all wizards in different countries now. It's strange how the environment you grow up in affects you.)

directory - next chapter

[rabbitcruiser]

Southern Food Heritage Day

Every year, Southern Food Heritage Day is celebrated on October 11. The Southern Food & Beverage Museum celebrates the culturally rich and delicious food of the Southern States in America. The cuisine deserves to be recognized and celebrated officially because it is a testament to American history and legacy. Southern food also represents the essence of America — the coming together of a variety of people from all over the world, each bringing with themselves their own ingredients and recipes to create a unique cuisine. Iced tea, pickled shrimps, and fried chicken are some of the most loved Southern foods throughout history. Along with the cuisine, the day also celebrates the racial and ethnic diversity in America.

History of Southern Food Heritage Day

Southern Food Heritage Day celebrates the best that Southern food and beverages have to offer. The South’s cuisine in America can be found in the historical regional culinary form of states generally south of the Mason-Dixon line dividing Pennsylvania and Delaware from Maryland, along the Ohio River, and extending west to southern Missouri, Oklahoma, and Texas. The most notable influences on Southern cuisine are African, English, Scottish, Irish, German, French and Native American.

The food of the American South displays a unique blend of cultures and culinary traditions. The Native Americans, Spanish, French, and British have contributed to the development of Southern food, with recipes and dishes from their own cultures. Food items such as squash, tomatoes, corn, as well as certain cooking practices such as deep pit barbecuing, were introduced by south-eastern Native American tribes such as the Caddo, Choctaw, and Seminole. Many foods derived from sugar, flour, milk, and eggs have European roots. Black-eyed peas, okra, rice, eggplant, sesame seed, sorghum, and melons, along with spices, are of African origin.

Southern food can be further divided into categories: ‘Soul food’ is heavily influenced by African cooking traditions that are full of greens and vegetables, rice, and nuts such as peanuts. Okra and collard greens are also considered Soul Food, along with thick stews. ‘Creole food’ has a French flair, while ‘Cajun cuisine’ reflects the culinary traditions of immigrants from Canada. ‘Lowcountry’ cuisine features a lot of seafood and rice, while the food of the Appalachians is mostly preserved meats and vegetables. Southern food is partial to corn, thanks to the Native American influence.

Southern Food Heritage Day timeline

1860

Southern Diet Expands

Following the emancipation from slavery, the Southern diet becomes versatile.

1916

The Great Migration

African Americans travel from rural communities in the South to large cities in the North and West — they carry their cuisine with them.

1940s

Southern Foods in Restaurants

Southern foods start appearing on restaurant menus and appeal to a diverse clientele.

1964

Soul Food

This term, describing everyday Southern food, first appears in print.

Southern Food Heritage Day FAQs

What is the difference between Southern food and soul food?

The difference between soul food and Southern food is rooted more in class than race, and what families were able to afford to put on the table. 

What is a typical Southern meal?

A traditional Southern meal is pan-fried chicken, field peas, greens, mashed potatoes, cornbread or corn pone, sweet tea, and a pie for dessert. 

Why is Southern food so unhealthy?

The Southern diet is commonly high in processed meats, which are high in salt and in nitrates, which are in turn linked to heart risk. The high sugar content of the diet may also lead to negative effects, like insulin resistance and inflammation.

How To Celebrate Southern Food Heritage Day

Organize a cook-off: Gather all your friends and organize a cook-off on Southern Food Heritage Day. Revive old recipes or add a twist to create something new.

Go out for a meal: Enjoy the best of Southern foods at your favorite Southern foods restaurant. Don’t forget to enjoy the classics like fried chicken, hush pies, and pies.

Set up a barbecue: Barbecues are an integral part of the Southern food heritage. It is also one of the most popular styles of cooking. Barbecue your favorite meats and vegetables, and serve them with sauces and seasonings.

5 Facts About Southern Foods That Will Blow Your Mind

Redeye gravy has a unique recipe: Redeye gravy is made with pan drippings and leftover coffee.

It is more calorie-dense: Southern fried chicken breast typically has more than 400 calories in an ounce.

Peanut butter is an essential: Half the annual crop of peanuts is used to make peanut butter.

Collard green has been around forever: It’s been a part of our diet for more than 2,000 years.

Black-eyed peas are also good luck charms: It is believed that black-eyed peas bring good luck on New Year’s Day.

Why We Love Southern Food Heritage Day

A day to indulge: You cannot celebrate Southern Food Heritage Day without enjoying a hearty meal of your favorite foods. This is truly a day of indulgence!

Try something new: The best thing about Southern food is that it has something for everyone. Use this day to try a new food item or the cuisine of Southern heritage. Who knows, you might just discover your next favorite dish!

It is historically significant: Southern foods have a rich cultural and historical significance. Learn more about the origins of your favorite foods on Southern Food Heritage Day.

Source

[sickonthedancefloor]

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Director's Cut - All Hands on Deck!

Hi y'all, I got a star! ⭐ So I wanted to cut in on this series I started 2-3 years ago that is taking me forever and a day to write.

I spent weeks watching compilation videos of BTS and finding old blogs with their management and staff team and their two main managers that definitely were going to cameo the most in the series. The biggest issue is because they’re managers and behind the scenes staff, it’s always tricky trying t find a characterization that doesn’t seem too off-putting or bizarre.

Outside of that, watching the entire gang dissolve into madness with everyone catching some sort of weird plague is fun to write even though it’s quite difficult. I’ve always been in the habit of writing these long af fics, instead of shorter, easier to post/easier to digest stories. Part of what takes forever is trying to write such long af pieces, even if they’re unnecessary to be that long.

I do plan on continuing this, probably after screaming when Jin makes it back home.

So this fic is actually titled in my story folder as ‘3amchicken’–which was the original plan, just uncontrolled undercooked chicken disaster and hungry boys without restraint–but it ended up being, what? As

Here’s the original fic beginning:

Honestly, they should have done their research first. It had started as a craving for fried chicken after a night working at the studio, and a bleary-eyed Sejin dropped Jimin and Taehyung off at their dorms with fried chicken from the new-but-slightly-seedy restaurant down the street from the studio. Ever the foodies, the two night-owls were always down for trying new restaurants, especially ones within walking distance from their home or from the studio. “Don’t eat too much too quickly,” manager Sejin warned them. The poor man had been up far too long with them; Jimin felt bad having to wake him up from where he’d fallen asleep in the hall from the practice room, but they didn’t have much of a means home outside of walking, which wasn’t the best option at three in the morning. Sejin unlocked the doors to the dark SUV. “You don’t have heavy assignments tomorrow but I know you’re not going to sleep well if you eat all of that chicken tonight.” His eyes turned to the two large bags the boys held. “It’s not just for us!” Taehyung argued quickly, boxy grin in full force. “We’re gonna share… Most of it, yeah.” Jimin nodded quickly, although he knew he and Taehyung would probably eat a ton of this on their own. They hadn’t eaten since late lunch, and after dancing for even longer than Hoseok that night, they were positively famished. And given the heavy sigh, both boys knew their manager knew they weren’t going to listen. He bid them goodnight and waited for them to enter the building before driving off. Jimin snickered, bumping his shoulder against Taehyung’s as they hurried to the elevators. “Think anyone else is up?” “Suga-hyung definitely is,” answered Taehyung, already reaching into the bag for a biscuit. “I asked if he wanted anything, he just asked for wings.” Fishing his keys from his pocket, Jimin made a face. “Ugh, you buy wings for Suga-hyung but you won’t buy wings for me? What kind of best friend are you?” “The kind that buys chicken with you in the middle of the night. Jimin-ah, it smells so good, we gotta hurry and eat it.” With a laugh, Jimin unlocked the door and let Taehyung in first, slipping off his shoes as he locked the door. The kitchen light was still on, but only the tv shone from the living room. As they carried the bags into the area, Jungkook’s messy bun popped into view. “Chicken!” Yoongi chuckled and gently shoved Jungkook away as he rose, stretching his back. Jungkook, instead, climbed over the back of the couch to join the two 95-liners in the kitchen, helping them lay out the different packages. “Wow, this stuff is so greasy,” he remarked, staring at his hands after touching a box. “And we’re sure this place is credible?” Taehyung shrugged. “Seemed credible to me. I guess it’s just greasy.” “That’s going to hurt your stomach later if you eat too much.” But even with the warning, Yoongi walked over and pulled a potato wedge from one of the boxes, taking a bite. He nodded approvingly. “Tastes good though.”

[sonosvegliato]

To an Athlete Dying Young: Deleted Scenes Pt 1

The original draft of Tim and Kon in the Hall of Justice in my fic And hold to the low lintel up/The still-defended challenge-cup. Featuring a McCrispy. 

Completely unedited.

“This is going to turn out so bad,” Superboy says.

“No, it’s not,” Tim says. “Either this works, and I’m a genius, or it doesn’t, and I find another way out. There are one hundred and forty seven listed in the blueprints I got from Batman’s computer, and thirty six more he’s detailed that are unmarked. But I’m not really supposed to know about those.”

“This is going to turn out so bad,” Superboy repeats. 

“Shut up, no it’s not,” Tim repeats back. 

“They’re going to know we’ve left,” Superboy hisses. “This is a horrible plan!”

“I want them to know we’ve left.” Tim’s sitting on Superboy’s shoulders and kicks him in the chest. “Now get in the tube.”

Superboy steps onto the Zeta platform. “I just want you know, if we end up on Mars, I’m not taking you back.”

Under New York Avenue is the closest Zeta tube, and Tim makes sure to shout it very clearly. Sewers, but. He can’t exactly pop out on the White House lawn. 

“B-20,” the tube accepts. Tim’s arms tighten on Superboy’s shoulders. “Robin.”

“This is so bad,” Superboy repeats as they’re reduced to photons through space. “This is so bad this is so bad this is—”

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“Incredibly demeaning,” Superboy says.

“Sorry, my car is talking,” Tim says to the McDonalds employee taking their drive-through order. “He wants the Number 1 with…”

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“Why were all the machines broken?” Superboy grumbles.

“It’s part of the experience,” Tim explains patiently. They’d had to scout out four McDonalds before finding one with a working soft serve machine. “Crushing disappointment, or eight hundred calories of delight? It’s fast food roulette.”

“And I just don’t get the spoons,” Superboy continues. They’ve been sharing a large fry, and he glares into the empty carton like it’s a multidimensional portal that ate his fries instead of Tim. He throws the carton aside.“Why are they square?”

“I used to think they were straws?” Tim supplies, licking an Oreo off his spoon. “If I had my phone, I’d look it up, but Batman has a fear of location-sharing. He made me duct-tape my front camera.”

“No shit?”

“No shit.” 

They eat in companionable silence. Tim feels Bruce in the doorway before he hears him, a dark blot in the corner of his vision. Tim scrapes Oreo crumbs from the inside of his cup before meeting Bruce’s eyes, domino to cowl.

“Oh, hey, Batman.”

“You went out?” Bruce replies, voice rough. “Into the city?”

“Maybe,” Tim says. He frowns, searching for one last bit of Oreo in his McFlurry’s vanilla bottom. “We wanted McDonalds.”

He kicks Superboy’s ankle.

“I’m only three weeks old,” Superboy blurts. “I’ve never had McDonalds.”

“And he can’t be a proper all-American boy without McDonalds,” Tim says. “Maybe that’s why he doesn’t have heat vision. Maybe pink slime alters Kryptonian genes and that’s what gave Superman his ocular powers.”

“McDonalds did not give me X-ray vision,” Superman says, though he squints at his hamburger for a second before taking another bite. 

Bruce tears a hand through the air at him. “You let this happen?”

Superman stiffens. 

“They got me a Big Mac,” he was smally. “I thought you’d sent them.”

“Relax, Batman, I got you the Spicy McCrispy,” Tim says. He reaches in the last brown bag and tosses the sandwich to Bruce. Bruce catches it in one hand and then points outside. 

“Out.”

Superboy leans into Tim. “Still think this was a good idea?” he whispers.

“Sit down, Superman, not you,” Bruce growls. “Robin.”

“Going perfectly to plan,” Tim whispers back, rising. Louder, he orders, “Don’t eat my chicken nuggets.”

“I’ll eat whoever’s nuggets I want,” Superboy mutters as Tim follows Bruce out into the hall. They walk a long time before Bruce stops and turns, a looming shadow that towers over Tim. 

“Do you not like the Spicy McCrispy?” Tim asks, speaking first.

“Do you think this is a joke?” Bruce bites back. He doesn’t shout, but the timbre of his voice reverberates in Tim’s chest, cracks his courage like an egg. He’s very aware of the pressure in his jaw, and fights to keep his expression open and passive. He’s glad for his domino and what little emotional protection it provides. 

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” he says measuredly.

Bruce’s shoulders stiffen, and he seems to grow inches taller. Tim doesn’t know how. Is it a Batman thing? Will Tim learn how to do that? 

Bruce’s voice is Gotham winter cold as he counts off his fingers. 

“You left the Hall without my permission,” Bruce begins. “You take a dangerous, unknown entity with you. You go into the city by yourself. Then you expose yourself to the American public riding Superman’s clone through a McDonald’s drive-though.” He pushes the wrapped chicken sandwich in Tim’s face, voice dropping further. “Are you sure you don’t know what I’m talking about?”

“I’m sorry,” Tim says.

“Do you know how many people saw you today?” Bruce barrels on.

“I don’t know. We had to go through more than one drive-through—”

“How many pictures were taken of you?” Bruce asks over him. “How many are currently being shared over every social media and news site? Robin’s been gone for over a year, and you’ve just announced his return to every rogue in Gotham.”

“Have I,” Tim says. 

Bruce’s mouth tightens. 

“I’m sorry,” he repeats quickly, giving ground. “But. If it’s 11 o’clock at night in Gotham or 11 o’clock in the morning at a McDonalds, the media was eventually going to see me. Robin’s been gone too long. Isn’t it good he comes back?”

“No!” Bruce snaps, arms flaring out. At Tim’s expression, his instantly cools. “Not right now. You just got the suit. You’re not ready for the streets.”

“But I will be, soon,” Tim says earnestly. “Right?”

“Tim—”

“I’m getting good. You have to let me out of the nest sometime. At least let me start shadowing you. I won’t let anyone see me; I’m really good at hiding in the dark—”

“No,” Bruce says fiercely. He shakes his head. “We’re not discussing this. You—” his expression closes. Tim can see him struggling with his emotions before shoving them down like leftovers in Alfred’s good tupperware. He takes Tim’s hand and puts the sandwich in it. The paper crinkles in Tim’s palm. “You’ve disappointed me.”

Tim stands there, a McCrispy in his hand, and watches Bruce walk away. His heart is beating so hard he feels sick. His grin is shaky, but by the time he returns to Superboy, he’s convinced himself that the stone in his stomach is victory.