#biscuits at home

[htlifestyle]

Khari biscuit at Mumbai Irani Cafes | History Of Food | HT Lifestyle

Mumbai khari biscuit love? Chai Bisket? No! I would prefer Chai and Khari on lazy afternoons… Yaar we all know that tea without snacks is no fun. And an all-time favorite snack with tea has got to be the simple but addictive Khari Biscuit. Go back to the last time you dipped the flaky and light khari into your kadak cup of chai. The amazing feeling of it crumbling and melting in your mouth is so unparalleled! Though they borrow a lot from French puff pastry, the version we know in India most likely has origins much closer to home.

[hedgehog-moss]

Look, friends.

Do you think this is a post about my adorable baby succulents? No. Look harder.

It's about the GIANT HOLE IN MY FENCE that I had to patch up with cardboard.

I can't blame Pampérigouste for this one; the brutish nature of the damage is not consistent with her usual modus operandi. Pampe outsmarts locks like Arsène Lupin; she doesn't charge at fences like a bull who saw a red cloth. This is Pampe Pondering A Fence Problem:

No, the damage to my fence looked a lot more mindless this time. Boorish. Boar-ish. I'm blaming a boar. A deer would have destroyed the whole thing rather than just the lower half. Note that there is not a single tuft of llama wool on the damaged wire mesh.

(Note no.2: the boar's smile was originally meant to be a tusk but it really just looks like a sardonic smile)

I brought some chicken wire to patch up the hole—but there wasn't enough of it. Then it started raining and I felt persecuted and decided to just cover the hole with cardboard and go have my morning coffee and get back to this later.

This is not an Innocent Pampe post; there is no such thing. My temporary cardboard solution lasted 8 to 10 minutes. I'm not sure exactly when she got out, but by the time I went back outside to repair the fence there was a Pampe-shaped hole in the cardboard.

(Not really; she just kind of lifted or ate a corner then wormed her way through the very small opening. I think.) (See, this is how you recognise a Pampe escape: you're not entirely clear on what went down, you just know there was a llama inside and now there is a llama outside.)

It was still raining and I didn't feel like going after her, plus it felt pointless to bring her back in her pasture before the fence was repaired, so I went in the barn to look for my tools and rummage through leftover pieces of previously-destroyed fences, hoping to find something the right size.

Then I heard Pampelune's hyena shriek, aka the llama alarm call. It was followed by:

horrified chicken screams and frantic feather noises; the soundtrack of a violent fox attack

infuriated barking from Pandolf

very loud panicked braying from Pirlouit

basically, chaos.

I ran outside just in time to see Pampe emerging from the woods at a full gallop, pursued by a bear. I didn't immediately identify the animal that was chasing her as the giant dog that he was, because he was running with a weird gait, with his legs going everywhere like he was frolicking at top speed (I now know that this dog is a puppy that has learnt to run just a few months ago, but that didn't occur to me at the time because this puppy is the size of a calf.)

Pampe was running towards the cardboard through which she had escaped and she managed to squeeze through her small corner hole again (I assume—there were trees blocking my line of sight and I only saw her again once she was in the pasture, running for her life along with the other 2 llamas + donkey.) Meanwhile, the dog didn't see the corner hole and tried to power through the cardboard much like a boar, or was carried away by his momentum and didn't brake in time; I don't know. In any case, when I reached him, he was stuck.

My large piece of cardboard was tied to the fence posts and still holding strong, but the middle was a bit soggy with rain and not too solid, so the dog's head went right through it. The rest of his body didn't.

He could have probably finished breaking the cardboard quite easily, but for some reason he instantly gave up. On life. By the time I got there the dog was half-in and half-out of the pasture and he looked defeated. Which made my piece of cardboard look like a mediaeval beheading apparatus with just a hole for the head.

I went to lock an angry Pandolf in the barn and checked on the chickens along the way (ruffled & offended but fine); I was hoping the dog would figure out how to extricate his head from the cardboard in the meantime. He did not. I tried to call him in a friendly tone (from behind) to encourage him to free his head by stepping back, but the concept of taking a couple of steps backwards in order to extract his head from the hole might as well have been advanced engineering. He clearly had no idea where his head was, where his body was, how to make the two a coherent whole again, and he started whining pitifully.

I untied the rope I had used to attach the cardboard to the fence posts, then wriggled the piece of cardboard a bit to try and free the dog's head. The dog was alarmed by the wriggling and took several steps back—but I didn't manage to hold on to the cardboard so it just moved with the dog. He clumsily ran away, taking the cardboard with him, wearing it around his neck like the world's largest cone of shame.

He immediately got stuck between two trees.

I was starting to find the situation hilarious, but the poor dog did not—he lay down and started making sad broken noises like a malfunctioning dog-robot. He didn't look very threatening but he was still a very big (and stressed) dog so I felt a bit wary of touching his head to help him, and decided to run home to get a box cutter. I figured I could easily rid him of most of the cardboard and leave him with just a soggy cardboard collar that would soon fall apart. I heard my landline phone ringing from afar and ran faster, and it was one of my nearest neighbours, the retired lady who lives on the plateau.

"I've been trying to reach you!! I saw your llama in my garden earlier, I was going to give her a little treat—" (she loves Pampe, for some reason) "—but then my dog saw her too."

I know this woman's dog—he's a tiny thing with fragile nerves who thinks the whole world is out to get him, so I asked anxiously, "Did Pampe scare your dog?" and she said "Oh no! Domino is here with me; but I have a new dog. His name is Texas."

I thought of the gigantic puppy currently sobbing in my woods, held prisoner by two trees, a self-inflicted cone of shame and his total lack of reasoning skills.

"Yes", I said. "I've met Texas."

The old lady asked worriedly if he'd scared Pampe ("Il est un peu zinzin" she said—he's a bit crazy. "I wanted to call him Rex, but then I met him and thought—Texas!!") I told her I was pleased with her dog for scaring Pampe, because she needs to learn that her pasture is her only hope for safety in this cold uncaring world and as soon as she steps out of it she returns to her lowly status as a prey animal. Then I ended the phone call because I was worried both about Texas and about the large hole in my fence. Thankfully all my animals were still terrified and hiding far, far away from Texas.

Texas actually managed to free himself before I attempted to cut the cardboard, but he still thought of me as his saviour and was very happy to follow me through the woods back to his owner's place. Before we left I propped up the cardboard against the damaged fence, and despite the hole in the middle no llamas escaped in my absence; I think the whole area still smelled like Texas and fear.

I'll admit I was initially tempted to leave Texas with his head stuck in the cardboard in a more permanent capacity in order to patch the hole in my fence with this amazing anti-Pampe Cerberus. Like this

(I know this artistic rendering makes my llamas look like frightened carrots and my donkey like a bunny but I will not be taking constructive criticism at this time)

[biscuitdragonwithastick]

Why Stealing From A Dragon Is Ill Advised (tumblr Ao3 adaptation)

A much shorter adaptation of my Ao3 fic by the same name. Can e found here.

CW: noncon, large cock, magic sex, cum inflation, eggpreg, pregnancy kink, orgasmic birth, dragon sex, forced,

You should never had tried to steal from a dragon.

You should never had tried to bargain with the dragon.

Now, it holds you in its massive claws, fucking you on its draconic cock. Your body pulses with ancient magic, changed to accommodate the inhuman cock roughly fucking you from behind. The dragon's not even fucking you. Not really.

Your body hangs limply in its grasp while they slides you up and down their slick cock. Just a little toy for them to use. Just a warm hole to be bred.

You hate the pleasure that consumes you when hot, thick dragon cum floods your insides. They drop you haphazardly onto the floor and watch as your worm around in tired desperation. Your body aches, but you need to escape. You need to get away from this monster, but this damn cum heavy belly of yours is making it difficult to stand.

Why does it feel like its getting heavier?

Before you can get your bearings, an orgasm racks your body in time a contraction. The dragon behind you laughs. You're going to look so good birthing my clutch, they say with a smile.

You cry out with each contraction. Not out of pain, but pure pleasure. Every contraction, every involuntary push of your muscles that bring the massive egg closer to birth, leaves you crying from overstimulation. No human should cum this much.

You nearly breakdown when the egg refuses to release. It just won't push out. The pleasurable contractions end just before the thing can crown. You're left to writhe in the unending pleasure of birth. You can't bring yourself to care how much of a fool you must look to the dragon before you.

Need help, little human?

You don't register the voice. It's only when there's pressure on your round belly that you look to see a clawed finger over you. Your about to scream out to stop when it pushes that single finger down. Your eyes roll back, moaning like a bitch in heat, as the egg finally plops free.

You twitch in the after shocks of pleasure. You're ready to curl into a ball and fall asleep forever, but then dragon grabs hold of you once more.

I said you'd be birthing my clutch. This is only one egg.

[ancientsstudies]

I suppose I could have stayed home and baked cookies.

ig credit: jasminabylund.

[screwpinecaprice]

I was trying to eat noodles neatly and for some reason I got sad midway. So I drew them messy eating a biscuit and a strawberry to combat sad noodle blues.

[arttsuka]

Finn and Jake in gravity falls and meeting Mabel, dipper, soos, and Stan.

(maybe Jake and dipper bonding, or Stan and Jake bonding, or Finn and Mabel bonding bc they're both lil goofs)

Im not drawing 6 different characters interacting with each other, you can have this

[williammarksommer]

Biscuit, Gravy, and Country Hash

Truckee, California

A Road Home Along the Lincoln Highway series

Hasselblad 500c/m

Kodak Tmax 400iso

[tired-biscuit]

M-miss biscuit

Would Kiba be able to smell my ovulating even if we're not in a relationship?

Like we run into eachother at the supermarket and suddenly he's gripping the cart and counting jars to calm down lmao

YES! imagine he’s always been infatuated with you ever since you were kids. life has made you unable to stay in touch and he thought he’d moved on from what he considered to be a measly crush during that time, but all the feelings he had for you come rushing right back when you bump into each other on pure coincidence and he catches a whiff of your scent.

it hits him like a slap across the face. you can’t tell, but the way you smell has grown alongside you just like your body has. it’s even more appealing to him now that you’ve matured and are, well, ovulating. it makes you more inviting. normally he wouldn’t be fased by it, at least not as strongly, but since it’s you and there are actual feelings involved…

it makes it hard for him to act normal. it wakes a certain part of his brain that usually works on pure instinct. for fuck’s sake, even his heart gets dragged into the mess.

still blissfully unaware of what he’s experiencing, you try making polite conversation, asking him how he’s been and whatnot, smiling and telling him how it’s good to see him after so many years. however, he’s acting nothing like himself. he’s all skittish and is stumbling on his words; avoiding eye contact — something he had never done with anyone in the past, as far as you can remember.

what’s even more odd is that he practically makes a run for it when you take a step closer so that you can hear and understand the jumble of words he keeps stuttering out — he just can’t stop talking, oh my god, what is wrong with him? throwing a particularly lame excuse your way, kiba is outright SPRINTING towards the check-out all of a sudden.

and as you stare at his broad back, watching the way how he runs his fingers over the back of his neck seemingly in frustration, you can’t help but think how awkward he’s gotten. him — the most confident guy in your class!

he’s had a glow-up when it comes to his appearance, but as for his behaviour… total meltdown.

[clumsycapitolunicorn]

#interesting 👀

TED LASSO | 1.02 + 3.09

[knowthatiloveyou]

This one is even more Rebecca Welton coded

[scoutingthetrooper]

[vegan-nom-noms]

Chamomile Cookies

[starsignchaser]

@jegulus-microfic | June 6th | Stay | Word count: 944 | CW: emetophobia

Regulus bit back a grin as he glanced at Harry in the seat next to him. The seven-year-old was bouncing in his seat, eyes glued to the window as the train sped into the city. They had traveled into London as a family a handful of times but the little boy never seemed to get enough of the journey on the train.

Harry had been begging for weeks as his school year rounded out to be able to go to work with his Papa, wanting desperately to see his office with the comfy couch and big windows. Regulus couldn’t really understand it, given that he simply worked in management at a media company, but he could never deny his son anything. So, the pair had gotten up extra early, put on their best business professional (Harry insisted on wearing matching ties), and began the hour-long train journey to London.

“Is Mrs. Rebecca going to be there, Papa?” Harry asked, still not looking away from the window. 

“Yes, love. She’s very excited to see you.” Regulus’s secretary had always been a kind woman but she absolutely melted when he mentioned Harry. She was always sending Regulus home with little treats and trinkets for the boy, so Harry was excited to finally meet his mysterious gift-giver in person. 

Quickly transferring for a short tube ride to Liverpool station, the pair made their way hand-in-hand to his office. After a round of introductions to Regulus’s coworkers, the two settled in. Regulus was at his desk surrounded by paperwork and the ding of his email sounding every few minutes and Harry was on the floor in front of the coffee table coloring in a coloring book provided by Rebecca, music softly playing from speakers around the room. They mostly kept to themselves except for when Harry had a request for a song. They were nearing in on lunchtime when Regulus felt a small hand on his arm.

“What’s up, sugarplum?” He asked, turning towards his son. He could immediately tell something was wrong as Harry looked pale and a little sweaty.

“Papa, my tummy hurts, I don’t feel good,” Harry spoke barely over a whisper, clearly not wanting to risk being sick. 

“Oh sweets, that’s alright. Why don’t you lie down for a bit?” Regulus went to pick him up but no sooner did he move towards the boy than Harry bent in half and was sick all over Regulus’s shoes. His heart broke for his little boy, clearly upset about being sick, as tears rolled down his still-chubby cheeks. Regulus quickly reached for a tissue to wipe at his face before turning when he heard the door to his office open. 

“Oh dear,” Rebecca gasped “You two stay here, I’ll be right back.”

Regulus breathed a sigh of relief at having another set of helping hands. He slipped out of his shoes as quickly as he could before bringing Harry over to the small couch in his office. He laid him down and took off his own suit jacket to use as a blanket. He brushed a few sweaty curls off of the small boy's forehead before pressing a kiss in between his eyebrows. The poor thing was still sniffling and he moved his arms out from under the makeshift blanket to reach for his Papa.

“Can we call Daddy?” Harry asked, gripping Regulu’s hand. He quickly pulled out his phone, tapping James' contact. 

A bright smiling face appeared within seconds but quickly became creased with concern as he took in Regulus’s stressed expression.

“What’s going on love?” James asked but before Regulus could reply, Harry cut in.

“Daddy I was sick on Papa’s shoes! My tummy really hurts.” As he spoke, Regulus turned the phone around so that James and Harry could see each other. James cooed and began speaking softly to their son while Regulus found a way to prop the phone up, hoping to figure out what to do next.

A soft cough brought Regulus’s attention to the door of his office, where Rebecca stood holding a can of ginger ale and some saltine crackers.

“Here you go, dear, I think this should help for now before you head home. You just get your boy settled and yourself cleaned up. Work will still be here tomorrow.”

Regulus grinned gratefully at her, taking the proffered remedies. After thanking her profusely, he turned back to Harry who seemed to be in better spirits after talking to James. Noticing he now had Reg’s attention, Harry moved to sit up.

“Papa, Daddy said we can lay on the couch and watch Moana and Luca all afternoon until my tummy feels all better!” giving a toothy grin, Regulus couldn’t stop his breath from catching over how much he loved this little boy. Running a hand over his head, he sat down next to him and offered the can of ginger ale with a straw. 

“That sounds lovely, Haz. Small sips, sweetheart, okay?”

His eyes moved back to the phone still propped up and caught James staring at the pair with so much love.

“We’ll head home as soon as we can, love. Could you pick up a few things at the shop before we get back? I don’t think we have many tummy-friendly foods stocked right now.”

“Of course, darling,” James smiled, “Let me take care of that, you just get yourselves home safely. I’ll see you soon. Love you both, feel better Haz.”

“Love you too Daddy,” Harry replied, color already starting to come back to his cheeks. 

His phone beeped, indicating the end of the call and Regulus took a deep breath. 

“Let’s get you home, munchkin.”

[biscuitdragonwithastick]

home home home home

[lestcat-de-lioncourt]

Getting into the autumn mood with taking an excuse to use my pumpkin and bat cookie cutters and orange cookie dough! 🍪 🎃 🦇

༄˖°.🍂.ೃ࿔:･༄₊‧꒰ა🍂🍁🧡 ໒꒱ ‧₊🍂.ೃ࿔*:･༄˖°.🍂.

[not-another-robin]

It's women's history month so for the duration of March I will be insane about that old WOMAN. #feminism