#even with eating raw egg

[feignleaf]

Scar: "Then the salmonellas all came around and was like, 'Don't eat raw cookie dough.'-"

SCAR IM PRETTY SURE THE SALMONELLA WAS THERE THE WHOLE TIME

[inbabylontheywept]

you don't need a sous vide machine to sou vie! all you need is some plastic freezer bags and like, a cheap digital thermometer (and a pot for water). you might need to get finicky by adding water to the pot during the process to keep the water a consistent temp.

You: Ah, yes, Egg Guy! Guy who ate 15 raw eggs! Wow! Hey, you seem extremely reasonable and controlled and ludicrously hinged. Like, 20 goddamn hinges on you. More hinges than a door store. May I recommend carefully putting eggs in a bag, putting a thermometer in water, then boiling the egg bag while watching it carefully whilst it rises to temperature? Also keep in mind that any significant mistake in this process will simply result in the worlds largest and least appetizing hardboiled egg clusterfuck.

Me: Oh wow, what a wonderful idea. By the way, I seem to have dropped my pen. Yes, here, on the side of the line that says "Stand Back - He Bites." Yes, it refers to someone else. Yes, I am very scared he'll come back while I'm still in range. All the more reason for you to be a good chap and pick up the pen for me. That's right. Perfect.

Perfect.

[08-47]

i saw the terminal glow

okay,, merry late christmas whoops and goodnightt !! ALSO, thank you everybody for the insane reception on the first post!!, and also check out the donations/gfms on my main page for people in palestine/gaza who are in need! i cant donate, so spreading it around's the best i can do to help <3 ! donate if you can n share it around!

[uncreative-cryptid]

Sorry to barge in but

Headcanon that Valerian feeds the cats a raw diet-

I can’t get it out of my head that he probably gets the cats better food than himself :’)

oh boy have you unlocked my uberinstincts from my uberautisim

observe;

honestly valerian probably feeds them limited ingredient diets, as opposed to raw!

he also would feed a lot of wet food.

following reasons:

1. raw food risks of contamination/illness. as of real life events today, bird flu has affected a lot of poultry and is 60% fatal to cats - cooked meats ensures risk of illnesses is reduced significantly.

2. cats naturally are more likely to dehydrate themselves and are more at risk for kidney issues as a result. best way to introduce more water into a diet is through wet food!

3. cans are easier to store and keep infestations out of the area, and he can recycle them!

4. limited ingredient is expensive as fuck, especially higher quality and specific protiens

if he isnt making the meals himself, there's a good chance kitties are probably eating cooked fowl, rabbit, and fish. as a treat they probably get chopped up bits of bacon.

he's absolutely the type to make sure the cats eat better and are healthier than him cause sentinel be damned he's gonna make their lives the best it can be

he is definitely gonna take each cat's individual needs into consideration, such as gaining/losing weight, activity levels, allergies, how much water they do or dont consume .. whole nine yards and anything less he would rather die

[puppppppppy]

I made a lmk oc

[okcoolthanks]

Can you even eat fish?

Ican it’s yummy

^thats me

[bitegore]

i shouldnt be allowed to take care of myself

[fellator]

made myself a meal and eating it felt distinctly like gutting a small creature with my bare fork

[junkmailmusubi]

have fun in post-cliffhanger (with added post-cliffhanger lore content) update wait hell :3

i;m not having fun. in fact this is the worst time of my life

[oodlenoodleroodle]

Love the thought process of "we just can't know if the ancient Romans ate raw eggs for dinner"

this slaps honestly

[draconym]

Since you all had so many kind things to say about my spouse on this post, I will provide you with ten Spouse Facts:

He has a pet rabbit that we found as a stray, which he has clicker trained to do various tricks. He also wrote the rabbit a theme song which he frequently sings to him (when he is not baby talking at him). The rabbit loves this.

He plays the guitar, piano, and dizi (Chinese transverse flute). When I got very sick a few months ago, he wrote a song for me and has sung it to me nearly every day since. He also wrote a (beautiful, heartbreaking) song for his mother who has dementia and whom he visits every day, because music is retained much longer than other kinds of memories.

He doesn't have a car. He is anti-car. He has two bicycles: a Raleigh Record Ace (with a custom paint job featuring a rabbit) and a Lightspeed. He has a lot of biking gear that makes him look like a Pokemon trainer.

He eats raw onions whole like they are apples.

He got serious about baking as a hobby a few years ago, when he was irritated by the imprecision of bread recipes for not stating the optimal temperature of warm water to proof yeast. He created a gas displacement chamber out of jars and aquarium tubing and ran a series of experiments to find out the answer himself. We ate a lot of bread that month.

He taught himself tablet weaving in an afternoon. He also knits, and one time he sewed himself an entire ballroom gown for a Halloween costume because they don't make ballroom gowns in his size.

He's conversational in Spanish, French, Japanese, and Mandarin.

He learned to beatbox in his college a cappella group. (I also beatboxed for my college a cappella group, but my parrot prefers his beatboxing over mine.)

The first time we met in-person was at a Humans vs. Zombies nerf gun LARP. I asked him out to dinner a few weeks later and at the end of the evening I said "let me know if you want to do this again" and before I even finished the sentence he said "I want to do this again."

The last time he ate eggs was about twenty years ago, when he ruined a batch of chocolate merengues and then tried to recombine them with the yolks, creating Chocolate Scrambled Eggs. Apparently it was terrible.

[genderqueerdykes]

i just think it's bullshit that alternative meats, milks, eggs, breads, and other foods are prohibitively expensive. like i don't know how to tell people that not everyone who eats vegan or vegetarian is choosing to eat that way because of their moral beliefs- a lot of people are eating these foods because they have food allergies or intolerances, or have other gastrointestinal issues

i don't have a choice. it's downright cruel to make these different options more expensive. there is no one size fits all diet- every single person needs a unique diet and some folks literally have no choice but to utilize these substitutes. some vegetarians cant digest soy. some vegetarians can't eat beans. i also don't know how to tell you that not every vegetarian or vegan can ingest raw vegetables and fruits, or even cooked ones, for that matter

there are a LOT of health conditions like irritable bowel syndrome, gastroparesis, crohns disease, and other gastrointestinal issues that can cause a person to become very sick or even die if they ingest too much raw plant matter, especially vegetables high in fiber. when these fibers cannot be broken down by a person's digestive system, they can form blockages in the intestines and kill people. not every person on this planet benefits from eating a lot of leafy greans. some people are allergic to chlorophyll. some people are allergic to citric acid. diabetic people have to be careful with certain vegetables and fruits causing spikes or dips in blood sugar, and many people with diabetes end up with gastroparesis, or similar gut issues. there are a lot of reasons why people can't just switch to a diet of salads and fruit smoothies every day.

alternative foods need to be available to everyone, regardless of how much income they make. having safer alternative foods should not be relegated to the rich. these are not just being consumed by spiritual white moms on instagram. these foods need to be accessed by disabled people all over the world.

[notwhelmedyet]

I hated olives for years, but I love Megan Whalen Turner's book The Thief and it it made olives sound so good. Every time I read that book I would crave the food she described. I would make Thief meals for lunch but skip the olives. It just felt like it was missing something.

so i added olives to my list of food dislikes to conquer - started with black canned olives (they taste like salt) chopped really small. I've now worked my way up to any black olive or kalamata/purple olive, as long as they're in brine and not oil. They're pleasantly briney and a great way to balance out otherwise bland dishes in small quantities. And now I can make a full spread Thief lunch - bread with hard cheese, yogurt with honey, an orange and some black olives 😍

Green olives are still disgusting.

Re: who even likes olives, my lovely girlfriend bought me a box of six different kinds of artisanal olives, nice big jars too, as a combination birthday/top surgery gift and it was one of the best presents I've ever received. I was set for olives for like three months

You are a mystery I will never comprehend

[teletubbyinlipstick]

More Hybrid!Poly TF141 x Reader pleaaasseeeee? 🥹

(ps, love your writing!)

OwlHybrid!Poly TF141 X Reader

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Thank you for reading. You're all so sweet for the support! I'm negl. I didn't expect people to read it, haha. I'm so shocked by the love.

Thankyou @bina-passion-fruit for the morning after idea! See her reblog of the first part for the gist. And please feel free to send in scenarios you could see these birbs end up in!

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The next day IS tense. The atmosphere has never been this suffocating.

Not in their own home.

Gaz sits curled up in Johnny's frame at the breakfast nook, head resting on the older mans shoulder, a deep frown setting into his face. His eyes are crusted a little, nose still deep red and cheeks puffy. He looks thoroughly exhausted, like he hasn't slept.

They all do.

Johnny has a cuppa sitting untouched. It's luke warm by now, but he can't bring himself to drink it. Face mirroring Gaz's, glaring down at the coffee like it has personally offended him. Every couple minutes, he huffs deeply, eyes darting away from the cup to glance around as if in thought, but he inevitably ends up gazing lost into his cup again.

Price and Simon are at the stove and counter. Quietly discussing things that need to be done for the day. There's lulls of silence in their convos, moments where their minds wander to the dove sleeping down the hall. Price feels guilt eating him alive. He's hunched a bit, chin tucked down in a clear sign of forlorn. Simon continues to run a hand up his spine soothingly, pressing closer to offer as much comfort as he can. But he can't deny the stabs of agony he, himself, feels.

It's raw. It sucks.

And Simon feels so fucking lost in this moment. He wants to gather all his mates in his arms (even you) and shush, coo, and coddle until there's nothing but purrs, chirps, and preened content lovers piled into a nest. He wants to scent you and rub you in their things to let you know you're safe and cared for now. He sees the trauma, the fear when Johnny reached for you. The self soothing you do by rubbing your arms.

He sees you. And in doing so, he sees himself. A scared fledgling unsure of the world, burned and bitten, spat upon by those who swore to love them.

Someone hurt you.

Tore at your feathers until you were too scared to take flight. And if Ghost ever gets a name he'd tear the motherfuckers wings from their spine.

The pitter patter of footsteps approaching the kitchen lifted them from their haze, four pairs of eyes snapping to you as you sleepily shuffled in. You wore a simple oversized t shirt and sweatpants to bed, hair rumpled from sleep, eyes and cheeks red and puffy from sleep. They can see the tear streaks dried from last night and it breaks their heart all over again.

Price makes the first move, taking a small step towards you with a plate held out. Buttered toast, sizzling eggs, and red srawberries sit on top.

"G'mornin' sweetheart, hope you slept well. 'Ve cooked some breakfast. There's coffee in the pot. Help yourself." Soft eyes gaze down at you. He's hunched inwards a little, head tilted down and the sweetest smile gracing his face. You feel very flustered, keenly aware of the 3 other sets of eyes intently watching.

Taking a deep breath, you offer a half smile, grasping the plate with slightly shaky hands.

"Uhm..t-thankyou, sir"

"John."

Wide doe eyes peer up at him, shock clear on your face. He feels his lips quirk at the sight.

"My mates call me John. Not sir. We're equal here, okay? You call me by my name." When his hand reaches out, you don't swat it away this time, only watching in marvel as he tucks hair behind your ears, crows feet aligning his kind eyes.

Taking a shaky breath, a soft, geniune smile spreads across your face, eyes darting to your feet and back up as you turn to the table. Johnny and Gaz are staring right at you, wings perked up. Gaz is quickest to his feet, pulling out a chair, a handsome grin settling on face. Pretty boy, you muse to yourself. Sitting down with a grateful smile and a hushed thankyou.

A hand reaches past your shoulder, jarring and unexpected. You whip your head up to see Simon offering a placate smile down at you, other palm face up to soothe. You tilt your head owlishly, blinking at him. It causes the older mans lips to quirk up on one side, brown eyes softening as he gazes down at you. He nods his head towards the table, and upon looking back to your plate, you realize he sat down a fork...oh.

Tears welled in your eyes, and a sniffle broke through. Simon's eyes widened a fraction, quickly backing away with both his hands raised, palm up.

"'M sorry luvie, didn't mean t'startle you."

It was sincere, filled with guilt. A small sob breaks past your lips. Johnny whines high in his throat, reaching out for your hand across the table, only to stop short, unsure if you'd appreciate the contact. His lips are once again pulled down, eyes saddened.

"Bonnie?..." Murmured so quietly into the air, the boys hold their breath, pulling their wings in to appear smaller. You wipe at your face again, sniffling, eyes glossy and cheeks rosy. And when you finally lifted your head, the last thing they expected was to see the brightest grin painted across your face, pure happiness shining, tear streaks lined with joy.

"No one's ever been so kind to me...thankyou. All of you."

Oh, dove, you haven't seen anything yet.

[odoraful]

𝐂𝐇𝐎𝐂𝐎𝐋𝐀𝐓𝐄.ᐟ (𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐦𝐨𝐫𝐞 𝐢 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐤 𝐨𝐟 𝐲𝐨𝐮, 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐬𝐰𝐞𝐞𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐠𝐞𝐭)

zayne is known for enjoying desserts, but there’s a sweet he hasn’t tried yet that he’s been craving.

⟡ content: zayne x gn!reader; early stage of the established relationship; first kiss; very sweet (both literally and figuratively); reader being flustered and zayne being bold; you basically live in zayne's mind 24/7; sfw; 1.6k

⟡ a/n: i was listening to day 6's song chocolate and inspiration struck me (>\\<) like "i often imagine when i kiss you, i'm curious about how it would feel... i can't control my heart, i think there's another me inside me" WAAH i thought it was fitting for zayne!

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It wasn’t typical of Zayne to be indulgent. Everything was done with careful moderation and consideration, from purchasing clothing to committing to exercise. However, when it came to desserts, all the rules he set up were scrubbed from his memory. No one suspected that the cardiac surgeon had such a strong sweet tooth. That was until his co-workers saw him at the bakery near the hospital one day, contemplating seriously about which new flavour of cake to get. To everyone’s surprise, he had ended up buying a slice of each one.

Anything sweet had a way of bypassing his self-control, which, naturally, meant you as well.

Taking a moment to himself in his office between appointments, Zayne reached for the cellophane bag of cookies sitting by his computer. The red string around the bag also held a tag with careful handwriting. It read:

Roses are red, jasmines are white, I made these with love, I hope you’ll take a bite.

Beneath the message was a cutely drawn face of you winking. Even though he had read this about 20 times since you dropped it off to him before you went to work, he still breathed a small laugh and shook his head. He unravelled the string, putting the tag safely in his pocket. The cookies inside were shaped like snowflakes and frosted blue and and white. He admired the design for a moment before taking a bite.

Imagining you preparing this made him smile. You had probably woken up earlier than usual to bake them fresh, putting on your apron with a determined look on your face. Each ingredient would be carefully measured, and as much as you would want eat the raw dough, his voice of caution would pop into your head about the dangers of uncooked eggs and flour. Once they were baking, you would finish by making the icing, dying it blue. He could imagine how you’d dip your finger into the bowl, bringing the mixture to your mouth. The blue would be a contrast against your rosy lips as you licked them to savour the taste.

That image of you stayed in Zayne’s head for longer than he intended.

He finished off a second cookie. It had a satisfying texture, the icing sugary and smooth.

Would your lips taste as sweet as this?

The thought came so naturally that he didn’t think anything unusual of its presence. There would probably still be some icing left on your lips, and he would simply lean in to—

Zayne cleared his throat.

The sound broke the silence of his office and banished the trespassing thought.

Only two weeks into this relationship, and he was fantasising like a high school boy at his work. You always had been a permanent fixture in his thoughts, but now it all felt so real. He no longer thought of you as his partner in hypotheticals. Being able to kiss you, and taste the sweetness on your lips wasn’t a dream anymore. Now, the real concern was the appropriate when and where.

He tied the bag closed, saving the rest to bring home. His break was over, and he had to continue on with work. Though he had finished his dessert long ago, the taste of vanilla icing lingered on his tongue for the rest of the day.

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”Earth to Zayne~ can you hear me?”

Zayne turned to you. Your head was titled to the side, an expectant look on your face.

Though it was a weekend morning, both of you were on the sofa completing the remaining piece of your respective work—him finishing his recommendations for a patient, and you filling out a case report for your recent hunter excursion.

“Yes, I can hear you,” he replied, matter-of-factly.

You narrowed your eyes in playful suspicion. “Hm, and what about the past two times I called you?”

Zayne adjusted his glasses. “I must have been focused on my report.”

His reason would have been convincing enough, if not for your keen senses. Despite his unchanging expression, you weren’t mistaken seeing the tips of his ears turn red.

You sorted your documents back into the folder, and placed it to the side.

“You stopped typing on your laptop and sort of stared into your screen for a minute. It was very un-Zayne like I must say,” you remarked as a half-joke.

Seeing just how observant you were towards him filled him with inexplicable pride.

“Is everything okay?” you asked, tone softening.

He paused for a moment, considering his next words. Closing the window to his document and shutting his laptop, he gave his full attention to you.

“Actually, something has been on my mind.”

With a concerned frown, you crossed your legs together, sitting in a more comfortable position to listen to him. Though, you could have never predicted what your boyfriend would say next.

”I was thinking about moving our relationship to the next stage.”

Heat rushed to your cheeks. Stuttered sounds came out of your mouth. When you realised you could form no words, you covered your face with your hands. What could he possibly mean by that!? Suddenly, you felt quite conscious about where you were seated. If Zayne reached out to his left, he could easily wrap his arm around your waist. And, you knew the purple loungewear you had on wasn’t the most alluring clothing you had.

“The next stage?” you repeated in a much higher pitch than you intended.

He nodded, giving no apparent indication that he noticed the fluster you were in. He seemed too calm. Perhaps you were drawing the wrong conclusion too quickly.

“If it’s alright with you, I”—Zayne stopped his sentence short. “Could you… close your eyes for me?”

You blinked at him.

“Ohh,” you sounded with understanding, “is this some kind of surprise? Are you giving me a present?”

He pushed his glasses up the bridge of his nose. “One might call it that.”

Even though his reply to your question was quite ambiguous, you happily closed your eyes. You heard a small sound to the side, guessing that he had placed something on the table. Of course, it was natural for couples to give gifts that signified the seriousness of the relationship. Maybe he bought some jewellery or a precious keepsake, you innocently pondered.

Zayne took a last look at your awaiting face. Eyes closed, lips glossy from the balm you just applied.

The sofa shifted. The weight of his body dipped the cushion beneath you. His close presence made your senses prickle. The jasmine and mint scent of his cologne now enveloped you.

When is he going to let me open my eyes?

“Zayne.”

You breathed out his name before you felt warmth against your lips.

Your eyes shot open.

Zayne had taken off his glasses (which you now realised was what that previous sound had been) and he was kissing you. Kissing you for the very first time.

Your brain and body were at odds with each other.

Your muscles froze, but you also didn’t want to pull away. Not when he initiated something you had spent so long daydreaming about, but never had the courage to do. Noticing this, Zayne raised his hand to your face. His thumb gently caressed your cheek. A silent signal that communicated a message of reassurance. It’s alright, you can relax, you seemed to hear his smooth voice in your head. Tension melted away. In exchange, your heartrate picked up. Closing your eyes once again, you let the sensation wash over you.

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Time seemed to stand still and move too fast all at once.

Zayne slid his hand down to rest at the base of your neck. Your skin felt hot against his cool fingertips.

Admittedly, he was out of practice, and the worry of doing this wrong flashed in his mind. But, when you eased into his touch, lips parting to invite more of him in, everything fell into place.

Vanilla frosting… I was right, he thought.

You were sweeter than any dessert he had tried in his life. One taste would not be enough after this. You had become a dangerous craving to him now.

Zayne withdrew, staying close to your face. Your eyes fluttered open, blinking slowly as if waking from a stupor. You were greeted with his green and amber gaze, his clear satisfaction illuminated by the morning sun pouring through the curtains behind you. Before you was a version of him you had never seen.

“Y-you’re too bold, Zayne,” you murmured.

The breath you had held during the kiss caught up to you. Your exhales lightly brushed against his skin as he stared at your lips—flushed like the colour of raspberry sorbet. He scanned every part of your expression, desperately needing to memorise your face in this moment. Everything about you was utterly perfect.

“I’m sorry for catching you off guard.”

You shook your head, the bangs of his hair brushing against your forehead. Only Zayne could blindside you with such a storybook kiss, and then apologise for it.

“You occupy my thoughts all the time,” he continued, a rasp in his voice as he whispered. “It’s unfathomable and quite distracting.”

You chuckled, the sound melodious to his ears. “I didn’t know a chief surgeon could be so easily distracted.”

Zayne smiled, the corners of his eyes crinkling with mirth.

“When the surgeon has someone he likes a lot,” he closed the distance, leaning his forehead against yours, “he often wonders how sweet they would taste.”

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[kedreeva]

So, about a week ago we had a pretty bad (LOUD and COLD) wind storm, and one of the 2024 babies hit her head on the roof of the coop when she spooked. I was anxious about the storm and so I checked the coop cameras before bed, just to make sure everyone made it up to the roosts and was doing ok with all the racket. I saw her on the ground and went out to see if I could get her up to snuggle with her family.

When I got out there, I found her braced on the ground with a bloody face, dazed and confused and mostly blind. I picked her up and carried her inside to see if she would survive the night.

She did, but it was rough. She could barely see, she couldn't stand up without falling over, she was clearly in pain. I weighed the risks, and decided giving her an anti-inflammatory painkiller was worth it. I tube fed her because she couldn't see to eat.

Toward the end of the first day, she could wobble to her feet, but she couldn't stay there without support. I tested her balance with a gentle nudge, and it wasn't great, but it was better than the first night or the morning. Warning for the video, because it's hard to watch.

Anyway, she remained in the house for a few more days, until her sight began to return better and she started showing signs of distress at being caged or approached. She still wasn't eating on her own, but she was calling/crying for her family and was liable to harm herself worse when feeding time came because she thought she could get through the wire cage. So she went back outside while the weather was nice. She's able to follow her moms and sister around, sleep with them on the perch, etc, even though she's not feeding herself again quite yet.

Which means that 2x a day, I make a mushy goop of bird food (soaked chow, vitamin drizzle, raw quail egg, and water) and I bring her in to tube it directly into her crop. She doesn't particularly fight me on it, which is both nice and not great.

But importantly, I always make a little too much (better than a little too little), so Bug gets to thieve the extra as a snack, and she is so excited about the watery gruel.

Anyway, keep the little hen in your thoughts. If I can get her to eat on her own again, I will probably look for someplace to give her a pet-only home that understands she's a lil brain damaged.