#rice and sugar are dangerous

[batboybisexualism]

made some fuckin horchata babey!!! it's so good I'm cryin

[nil-the-glitch]

actually yknow what, no. this is not being limited to discord, yall get it too.

some general cooking tips (in which there is a brief senshi posession):

moisture is the enemy of crispy skin. pat dry with paper towel, and if you have the time and spoons, give a thorough but even coat of baking powder and let sit uncovered in your fridge overnight. this will dry out the skin nicely. for pork belly, create a tight foil boat so that only the skin is showing, and cover in salt to draw out moisture, repeating a couple times if necessary.

furikake seasoning, for the fellow rice lovers, is just nori (seaweed), sesame seeds, sugar, and msg/salt. you might have most if not all of these things already in your kitchen.

chai spice mix is just cinnamon, ginger, cardamom, cloves, nutmeg, & allspice.

pumpkin spice is just cinnamon, nutmeg, cloves, and ginger.

to cure your own bacon, you only need water, white and brown sugar, and a non-iodized salt - himalayan pink salt is not iodized, if you cannot find butchers curing pink salt. from there, you can add any seasoning/flavoring you want.

the truly adventurous may cook their rice in green tea for a fresh clean taste.

you can tell if a fish is truly fresh by their eyes - clear and bright is fresh, while cloudy is older or potentially has been frozen.

it's cheaper to buy a large block pack of ramen from your local asian market and repackage the bricks into sandwich bags, than to buy a box of individually packaged ones such as maruchan or top ramen.

when buying meat, look at it's fat content - more fat marbling usually means more tender + flavorful.

you can save onion skins and other vegetable scraps to make your own broth with. you can also save bones for this. mix and match ratios to create your ideal flavor.

bay leaf will always make a soup or broth taste better, but Watch Out (they are not fun to bite into on accident).

msg is, in fact, not The Devil, that was just a racist hate campaign against the chinese and other oriental races. it's literally just a type of salt. it is no more dangerous to eat than any other type of salt.

washing your rice is important because it not only improves flavor and texture by removing excess starch, but it also helps reduce any residual pesticides or dirt, or even insect fragments (please remember that rice paddies are essentially giant ponds that all kind of things live in and swim around. you should also be washing all your produce in general.)

please salt your cooking water for pastas, it just tastes better and you will be happier for it.

boiled potatoes are also improved by salt water.

if you hate vegetables, please consider trying them fried in butter or perhaps bacon grease. it is healthier to eat them fatty than not at all.

healthy food does not in fact have to taste miserable. thats a lie. they are lying to you. free yourself from your blandness shackles. enter a world of flavor.

[devilish-cherry]

ok ok hear me out on weirdo bf choso who silently and stealthily leaves strange offerings for the reader that are supposed to be gifts but unintentionally come off as extremely creepy...

the reader mentions missing lunch everyday between classes/work? a suspicious-looking homemade bento appears in her fridge, with little faces in the food that look more creepy than cute. the reader mentions she accidentally shrunk her clothes in the wash? a bag of new clothes in her size is left on her desk. the reader mentions she needs new kitchen knives? a full set suddenly appears in her kitchen, shiny and sharp and terrifying. no note, no words, no sign of who might've brought the gifts or why.

reader thinks she has a stalker but really it's just her bf not understanding the concept of communicating before gifting things to people. choso's like a cat that brings their owner a dead mouse to show affection. i can't stop thinking about this. do you see the vision

STOP. STOP RIGHT THERE. BECAUSE I SEE THE VISION. I SEE IT SO CLEARLY IN 4K HD ULTRA RESOLUTION. I AM STARING DIRECTLY INTO THE VISION WITH TEARS IN MY EYES.

this is SO choso-coded it’s insane. this is exactly the kind of behavior choso would exhibit because he has absolutely no idea how normal human interactions work, and honestly? good for him. he’s just out here expressing his love in the most cryptic, unsettling ways possible. he knows he’s supposed to provide, he knows he’s supposed to take care of you, but no one ever told him he had to explain himself while doing it. why would he do that. he’s literally giving you what you need??

the bento?? horrifying. imagine opening your fridge and just seeing a homemade meal staring back at you. the little rice ball faces are not cute. they are uncanny. they are haunting. and the worst part is, you have no idea who put it there. is it poisoned? is it cursed? you don’t know.

the clothes??? imagine you shrunk your favorite sweater in the wash, only to come home and find a bag of new clothes, in your exact size, sitting on your desk. no note. no explanation. no evidence of entry. you are losing your mind. there is no reasonable explanation. how did this person know your size? are they watching you?? are they in your walls??? meanwhile, choso is just happily existing thinking he’s done the most thoughtful thing in the world. you start sleeping with one eye open.

THE KNIVES. imagine coming home from work, already exhausted, only to flick on the lights and see an entire shiny, pristine, borderline combat-ready knife set on your counter. no receipt. no note. just gleaming steel staring back at you. you straight up think you’re about to be murdered. you start considering witness protection.

this man is so lucky he’s cute because he is out here actively accidentally convincing you that you have a deranged stalker when in reality, it’s just him being the most socially oblivious yet well-intentioned boyfriend of all time. you start thinking you have a stalker. you are TERRIFIED. you bring it up to choso, all shaken up, like "omg someone has been breaking into my home and leaving things for me i think they're dangerous” and choso just. blinks. tilts his head. furrows his brows like a confused cat and is like:

"…you do not like the gifts?"

and that’s the moment it clicks. everything. the bento. the clothes. the knives. it was him. the whole time. in his mind, this is all deeply romantic.

and now you have to explain to your very sweet but extremely socially inept boyfriend that you appreciate the thought, really, but leaving unsolicited gifts in complete silence like some kind of eldritch sugar daddy is deeply alarming behavior.

i am OBSESSED with this concept. i am in love with your brain. i will never stop thinking about this. you have permanently activated my choso brainrot and now it will never shut off. thank you for this blessing misty, you are doing the lord’s work for the choso nation. 🙏

[vxm1tcxre]

Pvrging harm reduction masterpost (from someone who’s had severe bul1m14 for 3 years, and who wishes they’d gotten this advice)

I get asked a lot and see posts asking for “tips” around pvrging.

I absolutely do not condone it. It’s a horrendously dangerous, unpleasant, and addictive behavior, and often a slippery slope to full-swing bul1m14 (and trust me, that is not something you want, for the sake of your wallet and sanity).

However, I do acknowledge that that doesn’t get in the way of the urge to do it. It certainly didn’t for me. That’s not how 3ds work. Being told how dangerous and horrible something is often is just more enticing. I know people are going to try it regardless. And frankly, I’d much rather focus on tips to stay safe over just telling you “don’t do it” like a Christian parent preaching abstinence. Harm reduction is king, especially on a platform like 3dblr.

So, here is a list of things to help you stay safe.

1. I feel like I should reiterate this again- if you at all can, don’t start. It’s not the c4ls-be-gone magic spell it might seem to be. Starting is what ended my r3str1ct1v3 phase. I thought it’d just be a last resort for when I ate too much. Fast forward to now, it’s been 3 years since my first time and I consume a good 6k+ c4ls every single day, have g4ined a ton of w3ight, feel like shit all the time, have no control around food, am constantly broke, have done things that would make people gag, and have all the risk with no reward. Ultimately, you will not l0se w3ight with pvrging. It gets harder and less effective the longer you do it. While the “you can only get rid of 50%” you often hear is a myth, being bul1m1c destroys your control, and eating maintenance in addition to whatever c4ls you didn’t manage to pvrge will inevitably lead to w3ight gain over time. It simply isn’t worth it.

2. DO NOT USE FOREIGN OBJECTS. It is legitimately so dangerous. Massive choking hazard and generally terrible for your throat. If you can’t get a response with your fingers, don’t do it. I promise, getting rid of some chicken nuggets is not worth getting a plastic fork lodged down your throat and almost dying. (Yes, I am speaking from experience)

3. Some people are simply incapable of inducing v0m1t1ng. It’s more common than is talked about and is completely normal. Frankly, if you have urges to pvrge and find that you can’t do it, consider it a sign.

4. Do not brush your teeth directly after. This is because the bristles of your toothbrush will rub the acid into your enamel, increasing the chances of decay.

5. Baking soda is magic. Swish about a teaspoon with some water in your mouth to neutralize the acid. Swallowing some (significantly less- about 1/4 to 1/2 tsp) is also an easy remedy for acid reflux. Get checked and have your teeth cleaned at the dentist’s regularly- if damage starts occurring, you can catch and mitigate it early.

6. Maintain good dental health as much as you can. Continue to brush and floss regularly. Keep in mind, however, that you can’t avoid tooth decay forever. It’s inevitable with long-term pvrging.

7. One of the biggest risks is electrolyte deficiencies. You often hear of people dying from cardiac arrest. This is because thr0wing up depletes your potassium, which helps with muscle contraction. Your heart is a muscle. If it’s unable to contract, it will fail. After pvrging, replenish your electrolytes. Coconut water, Gatorade, pedialyte, anything that contains the nutrients you just got rid of.

8. Also remember to stay normally hydrated. Even just drinking water is better than nothing. pvrging dehydrates you.

9. DO NOT FLUSH. It’s one of the most dangerous games you can play.

10. Try and eat something safe after the fact, especially if you’re having symptoms of low blood sugar (shaking, dizziness, sweating, a rapid heartbeat). This can be easier said than done but it’s crucial to getting back to normal. Something easy on your stomach with some c4rbs is ideal- toast, rice cakes, crackers, etc.

11. Avoid hot showers or baths or exercising directly after. You will lose more water through sweating. Wash your hands and face- especially around your chin and mouth, pvrge-induced acne is a real thing- and rest for a while.

12. Warm drinks or cold foods like popsicles or ice cream are very soothing on the throat. Throat coat tea and hot chocolate are quite nice. The former may be best if your stomach isn’t feeling well.

13. You will bloat like crazy whenever you eat if you pvrge long term. It’s hell on your digestive tract in general. It’s one of my biggest struggles and pet peeves. Honestly, you can only really wait for it to go away. Remember that it will with time, and do something to distract yourself from it. Some things that in my experience have made it less severe are to eat at a reasonable pace, chew your food thoroughly, and sip drinks rather than chugging them.

14. L4x4t1v3s absolutely aren’t worth it. You don’t really get rid of anything and it’s a fast track to dependency and being horrifically constipated whenever you don’t use them. Stay away. If you must, opt for natural remedies like teas, fiber-rich foods, chia seeds, etc.

15. If you take medication, wait several hours before pvrging. It obviously won’t work if you just get rid of it.

Feel free to reblog this with any advice of your own. I hope this helps some of you; stay safe out there.

[catcze]

🪷 | Mao Hua ( 猫花 )

❝ Is there anything better than a day spent doing nothing at all? ❞

5 Star Dendro Catalyst ✧✧✧✧✧

Region — Liyue

Birthday — October 27th

Constellation — Flos Bestiae

Affilation — Bai Senlin ( 白森林 ) Tea House

Special Dish — “Feline’s Fried Rice” (Healing bonus & HP up)

Additional Titles — Miss Mao Hua, Beast of Blooms, Meadow Treader

Event Wish — Languid Catnap

The mysterious owner of the Bai Senlin Tea House. Once a renown adeptus, she has since settled down among the mortals to live a peaceful life.

Ref sheet & notes utc !!

Personality notes !! *ೃ༄

— Has a pleasant personality, though she may be formal/stiff with people she’s not yet familiar with at first. She’s very warm, welcoming and affectionate over time, however, and is well-loved by children for her easygoing and kind nature. 

— To her, a day spent doing nothing but sipping tea and taking long naps is a day well spent. Lazing about and taking things at her own pace is how she lives now, and she doesn’t often interact with the other adepti anymore, having chosen to live a ‘mortal’ life rather than secluding herself in Jueyun Karst. The only adeptal duties she still fulfills is the personal favor Rex Lapis had asked of her— to help keep Liyue safe. (She does, however, still find loopholes to both uphold this favor while also doing the least amount of work.)

— She is morally grey in the way that non-humans can sometimes be, and she acknowledges it. Although she has empathy (and, in truth, is a rather kind and empathetic person) she’s willing to resort to extreme methods to get the results that she wants in the quickest and most effective manner, regardless of how merciless these methods may seem. This trait of hers made her dangerous when she was in the employ of Rex Lapis, and still makes her hard to predict. 

— She is very loyal, and willing to do anything to keep the person she’s dedicated to safe, and to do what they ask of her. This was evident when she was employed by Rex lapis, going to extreme means to subjugate his opponents and secure him as the archon of Liyue, and it’s evident now with her beloved, who she will unflinchingly do anything for. 

Misc notes !! *ೃ༄

— Falls asleep in trees / in bushes / on rooftops / basically fucking anywhere.

— Formed a contract with Rex Lapis during the archon war that states that she would fight for him, and in return would be allowed to live in peace when her duties have been finished.

— Although she wants to live quietly, it’s her own damn curiosity that still adds spice into her daily life. By Mao Hua’s own (accidental) doing, there are rumors of an illuminated beast in her tea house who sometimes grants the wish of someone who is in dire straits, begging for help by leaving a message under their cup in hopes that the adeptus will take pity on them.

— Although she’s capable of stopping these rumors, she doesn’t want to. In part because she does want to help the common folk where she can, but also because she finds it interesting to learn about what it is these mortals hold so dear to their heart that they would risk contacting an illuminated beast just for help, even if they have to pay a price. It’s intriguing to her, and she finds herself wanting to learn more.

— She doesn’t smell like flowers, though a lot of people may think that. She actually smells like sugar and vanilla. 

[clairewritesjjkxreader]

Sukuna’s Wife and Yuuji’s Onee-chan (Sukuna x Reincarnated!Y/N) scenario

Request/Inquiry from @aikothingdream:

“It would be funny to see Yuuji also not like his teacher hitting on Onee-chan”

Life as a cursed spirit’s “bride” was hilariously boring. 

Gojo described your cursed energy as below average, you had zero martial arts training or talent, and Sukuna threatened Gojo and Yuuji not to put you in danger. 

Yuuji was often busy training, studying, or hanging out with his new classmates. You were happy that he had people to look after him in your place, but without a job or a class to attend, you were a parasite.

To alleviate your guilt, you did everyone’s laundry (minus their unmentionables, even Yuuji's, who furiously insisted he was old enough to wash his own underwear–kids, they grow up so fast *sigh*), mopped the hallways, wiped the windows, and other chores. 

You just finished rearranging the clothes in your cabinet for the second time today. 

You sprawled yourself on the floor like a starfish. 

Free food, no rent. Everything was paid for here. This should’ve been the ideal life, but you were so booooored.

Spurned by the desire to fill the void, you went to the kitchen. No one was around. Of course. 

You searched the cupboard, but only found a half-eaten package of cookies. The fridge had a can of whipped cream on the verge of emptiness and some strawberries.. 

Shutting the fridge close with your hip, you chomped on a cookie and a medium-sized strawberry then sprayed a swirl of cream in your mouth.

“Guess who’s back with treats! I–ah.” Gojo Satoru stopped at the kitchen doorway, a plastic bag full of sweets hanging from his hand. 

A silence fell over as you saw each other. 

He stood there, quietly as you stared, frozen with a mouth stuffed with sugar. 

You: (⊙ｏ⊙)

Gojo: ( ._. )

Gojo: …

Gojo: …pft.

You: …!

You forced yourself to chew faster, but expectedly, the thing that was supposed to be in charge of you and your brother burst into maniacal laughter.

“PWAHAHAHAHA!” 

“Mm…mf!” 

“Oh, man. I gotta take a picture.” He pulled out his phone. 

You wanted to say something, but there was too much stuff in your mouth! 

Gojo continued laughing between clicks and flashes until you started choking like a pelican who swallowed too big a fish. 

In an instant, he was behind you, arms wound tightly around your abdomen. “Please don’t die. It would be too pathetic!”

“Aurgh..!!!??” Translation: You think I wanna go like this, you a&%****!?

With one, strong squeeze, Gojo forced the food out of you. 

“That was close! Good thing I was here or who knows what would’ve happened.”

“...”

“Hm?”

“...”

“Not going to say anything? What’s wrong, nee-san?”

Feeling a vein near popping, you coughed out, “I believe I asked you not to call me that.”

“You’re so cold. Megumi and Kugisaki call you that. Even the second years!”

You had a couple of things to say, but considering that he technically saved your life, you opted to keep them to yourself. “Thank you for the help, now please let go. I’m going to clean this up.”

But as you said this, your knees buckled and his arms shifted to stop you from falling.

“Aw, don’t be like that.”

Whoosh

A giant knife flew towards Gojo, stopped only by his infinity. 

You both turned to find Yuuji standing by the door, panic and shock on his face as he gripped hard on his right arm responsible for throwing the blade. 

“I-I didn’t know how that happened, I swear!”

Sukuna spoke from his cheek. “You damn blue-eyed bastard. How dare you touch my wife so shamelessly?”

“Excuse me?! I just saved her from cho–” 

“Yuuji!” Embarrassed, you pushed yourself out of Gojo’s embrace and walked towards your brother. “Welcome home. Do you have any requests for dinner?”

“I’ve been craving curry rice since this morning.”

“I think we just ran out. I’llgocheckthestorageroom!” Flustered, you rushed out of the kitchen, forgetting your own mess. 

Yuuji quietly went to mop the food you choked out.

Gojo sighed. “Yuuji, what should I do, I don’t think your sister likes me.”

“Gojo-sensei.”

When Gojo met his student’s gaze, it held a surprising sharpness. “???”

“Thank you for taking care of us,” Yuuji’s normally cheery tone was flat as he spoke, “but please don’t bother my sister too much.” 

“???????”

Later that evening, in Fushiguro’s room…

Gojo: Megumi, why is everybody so mean to me?

Gojo: (˃̣̣̥ᴖ˂̣̣̥)

Megumi: Please leave. 

A/N: I tried to have more fun with this one so I was more liberal with my style. Anyway, I got a few more requests, the products are coming soon!

@shadowywizardarcade @hannya-exists @nineooooo @lilachaeyo @pumpkindudeishere @jessbeinme15 @fluffy-koalala @cringeycookies @frogzxch @isimpfordanielpark @marvelsgirl4ever @sanzusmom @sheccidoscar @marvelsgirl4ever @alastorhazbin @satosuguswife @lumaniii @leahlovesreading @blackstaw @nineooooo @boba--12

Other snippets of this au are found here.

[myceliacrochet]

Itaf and Mazen's love is beautiful, I love to see it. We are Facebook friends. She said the other day that each donation and kind word is a rose we place on her path. May Itaf and Mazen live happily ever after.

The words of her GoFundMe:

"Hello!

"I am Itaf and this is my husband Mazen.

"My husband is everything to me, and I am his everything... and we are being starved. We want to be together, and we want to see each other smile again in peace. Our love is unique to us, we don't want to lose each other. We don't want a world where one of us doesn't exist anymore. We desire the end of this constant anxiety, hunger and danger. Our love is strong and we want to connect with the whole world, we have so much to give back. Please feel your power to support us through the tiniest contribution, so we can leave Gaza eventually for freedom and peace.

"What happened to us?

"My husband and I live in Rafah, Gaza under harsh conditions. For more than five months, we have been under bombardment, war and fire.

"My house was severely damaged due to the bombing that was next to me. The shrapnel fell right on top of us. We narrowly escaped death. Many of my neighbors and relatives died because of these attacks. So we couldn't stay and had to relocate. Our new "house" is mainly made of tin sheets (see picture below).

"We are now in severe hardship, hunger and thirst. We eat grasses, animal feed and drink polluted salt water to survive. There is no water, food, or treatment. Even though the little we have, every morning if possible, we feed the cats and make sure they got something as well.

"We want to escape by all means. Please support us get out of here. You can make a difference even by donating a coffees worth.

"Helping us means that you give us life and live safely. Help, to get us out of this burning hell here. The bombs are dropping mercilessly on our land.

"Every minute makes a difference. Every little amount counts. A small amount that doesn't hurt you, can make the biggest difference to us... you personally don't have to carry a huge burden, we are asking for a collective deed, when many people give a little, we will make it. Thank you so much.

"❤️

"---

"Adressing your commonly asked questions:

"1. Can we trust this?

"Our friend in Germany has started this campaing for us, because we in Palestine are not allowed to do a GoFundme. Our friend will make sure the money reaches us safely via Western Union. Thank you so much for helping and asking!

"2. It feels like a losing battle

"That's true for every time you give a Dollar to a homeless person as well, and you still do it from time to time, so they can get something to eat today.

"In our case, we are trapped in the real life squid-games or hunger games. You can actually help a ton by giving 1$ and spread the news! We are still alive... the battle is not lost yet.

"3. Focus on two people? Then what about all the other people?

"We love this thought, because it shows so much compassion, but it will cause hopelessness and inaction. You are here now, so if you want to help, here is a good place to start. Just even 1$ and spreading this campaign on social media to reach our goal will make the biggest difference. Thank you!

"(If you want to help furthermore, we'd greatly appreciate if you consider donating to the UNWRA Gaza relief fund as well).

"This is a scene from my diary of harsh conditions. It was a very good day I bought half a kilo of rice, cooked it, and now I'm done. I was trying to buy a kilo of sugar but it is insanely high priced.

"4. Why this specific amount and does it really help?

"The little bit of food we can still get here got extremely expensive, so even just staying will be costly if we want to stay alive. The costs of coordination at the Rafah crossing will go through the Egyptian Hala company. One of the burdens we have to carry is non-reliable bureaucracy, the cost is $5,000 - $10,000 per person. There are road and crossing fees from Rafah to Cairo of approximately $100 per person. I do not know how much it costs to fly from Egypt to the host country where Carolin invited us to. So our aim is to get $20.000 (which translates to 22.500 Euros incl. the GoFundMe fee) to at least get the Rafah crossing for sure. If we have extra we can afford to get to our host country as well, which would be the absolute dream - but our first goal is to get out.

"5. How do I stay informed?

"I post my Inside-Gaza diary on Facebook and Instagram, please feel free to follow me there, I will post updates!

"Follow my diary on Facebook

"Follow me on Instagram

"Furthermore Carolin will help keep this Fundraiser up to date!

"6. Why should I help?

"Because we can only succeed when everybody gives a little bit.

"This is our current home, thanks for your help even for the slightest bit! Greetings from Gaza...

"7. How often is the money being sent?

"The donations are being transferred on a regular basis, so that they are with Itaf and Mazen as soon as possible.

"8. How is the money being used?

"It will be used to evacuate eventually and in the meantime to buy food and water, to survive the harsh conditions.

"--

"Thank you for taking the time to read this and for considering supporting our cause."

Donate:

https://gofund.me/79bcce1f

Vetting:

I don't know of any vetting for Itaf and Mazen. I just know them on Facebook, and the RIS is clean on all the pictures in this post.

@acehimbo @butchfeygela @bisexualspeed @butchjeremyfragrance @k1teko @ohjinyoung @revoltingcocks @yampulp @eraserheadbaby2 @nocturnal-notes @rememberthelaughter2016 @parfaithaven @gryficowa @tittyinfinity @6o3o9 @fantasykiri5 @sadbiooi @battleofthegarys @illpunchababy @alliterate-accident @flashingdaydreams @s7ar-sai10r @tallytals @monotremesoup @dlxxv-vetted-donations @ilikefoodandyourmom @i-named-my-cactus-albert @pogasssm @thethrillbasisindeterminable @agremlinthing @huzni @bagofbonesmp3 @hussyknee @divorce-enjoyer @treffyfrinn @effen-draws @thatsonehellofabird @neechees @queerpotat @queerstudiesnatural @maester-cressen @lampsbian @freddyfazbearboyfriend

[kaijuno]

My name is Spike Cohen, and I ate 10 pounds of food.

Last Sunday, I went to a hibachi restaurant with my wife, my mother and my cousins to celebrate Mom's birthday.

If you've ever been to a hibachi restaurant, you know that they give you an insane amount of rice.

I usually eat a keto diet. This day would be an obvious exception.

I hadn't eaten all day, so I decided to order extra scallops, in case the laughably large amount of food they give wasn't enough.

My wife doesn't eat rice, so I got her portion too. I knew that going into this struggle.

She also had them give me her shrimp. That, I hadn't anticipated.

But I'm a man, and that really doesn't excuse any of this but I'm going to say it anyway.

When my cousin Sherri asked the chef to give me her rice portion as well, I knew that I was in danger.

As the food continued to pile onto my plate, I had to form a mesa of sorts with the rice, so that the shrimp, scallops, and vegetables wouldn't fall off.

Because God forbid I neglect to eat any of it.

A pile of food would come. I'd eat it, and then get back to chipping away at my Rice Mesa.

And then another pile of food would come.

And then another.

I felt like Sisyphus, except his task at least made him more fit.

Mine put me at serious risk of hospitalization.

Nevertheless, I persisted.

My cousins said that I could take the rest to go and eat it later.

My wife informed them that I would be eating all of this food tonight, because I have a problem.

Minutes turned into hours. Not that I could keep track of time.

Nothing felt real anymore.

What we call "reality" stripped away from what was left of my consciousness.

Nothing existed but me and the endless pile of food.

At some point, the rest of the family was getting bored and wanted to leave, so I had to pack my leftovers into a to-go container.

To put it in perspective, less than half the food was left, and it barely fit into a full size styrofoam clamshell container.

As I packed the food in, my wife and mother insisted that it wouldn't fit.

My own wife and mother.

It hurt me to know that they didn't believe in me. In retrospect, I was probably a little overly emotional because my blood sugar was somewhere north of 800.

But Mark believed.

"It's rice", we both said, almost in unison. "You can really pack it in there."

And we were right.

You can really pack rice in there.

My family pleaded with me, "please Spike, please don't eat the rest of that food tonight. We are worried that you will die."

I said "of course I won't eat the rest of it tonight. I've had more than enough."

But my wife said "he's going to eat this before it gets cold."

"No no" I insisted. "This will make a great lunch for tomorrow."

She continued looking at my family.

"He has a problem."

My own wife.

First she didn't think I could pack that rice into the container. Now she thinks I'll eat the leftovers, when I insisted that I wouldn't.

I was heartbroken.

How could the woman I had pledged my life to, my Queen, my very rib, plucked from me and formed as I doth sleep, have so little faith in me?

It was a long and quiet ride home.

I felt alone, betrayed even.

At this point my blood sugar was hovering somewhere around 1200.

I'd estimate that I consumed roughly 600 grams of carbs, and 43,000 mg of sodium.

(I didn't bother calculating the protein and fat, because counting the macros of this meal seemed like a mockery of God and His creation)

All of this would have broken a weaker man.

But not me.

Unlike many lesser Jews, I am stronger than my addiction to Asian food.

My name is Spike Cohen, and I ate the Food and Nutrition Board of the National Academies of Sciences, Engineering, and Medicine's recommend weekly allowance of calories in one sitting.

This is my story.

[blackstarlineage]

Slavery in the Caribbean, North America, and South America: A Garveyite Analysis of Exploitation, Resistance, and the African Struggle for Liberation

“A People Without Knowledge of Their Past is Like a Tree Without Roots.” — Marcus Garvey

Slavery was not just an economic system; it was a war against African civilization, identity, and autonomy. The transatlantic slave trade was the largest forced migration in human history, robbing Africa of its people while enriching European and American empires.

However, wherever there was oppression, there was resistance. From the Maroons in Jamaica to the Quilombos of Brazil, from the Haitian Revolution to the rebellions across the U.S., Africans refused to submit.

This analysis examines how slavery functioned differently in the Caribbean, North America, and South America, the unique forms of brutality in each region, and, most importantly, how our ancestors fought for freedom.

1. The Scale of Enslavement: Where Did Most Africans Go?

One of the biggest misconceptions about slavery is that most Africans were taken to North America. The truth is:

Brazil (South America): Imported 5 million Africans – nearly 40% of the entire transatlantic slave trade.

The Caribbean: Imported 4.5 million Africans – about 35%.

North America (U.S. & Canada): Imported 500,000 Africans – less than 5%.

Yet, by the mid-19th century, the U.S. had the largest enslaved Black population. This is because:

In the U.S., slavery was designed to sustain itself through birth. Enslaved people were forced to reproduce, creating generations of captivity.

In the Caribbean and South America, enslaved people were worked to death. Instead of creating a self-reproducing enslaved population, Europeans simply replaced the dead with new Africans.

What does this tell us?

In North America, enslaved people lived longer—but only because they were seen as long-term investments, not because conditions were humane.

In Brazil and the Caribbean, the system was about extraction—Africans were disposable labor.

2. The Reality of Life Under Enslavement

The Caribbean: Sugar Plantations & Death Camps

The most brutal plantation economy.

Sugar production required constant back-breaking labor, exposure to fire, blades, and boiling water.

Average life expectancy was 5-10 years after arrival.

Torture was routine. Enslaved people who resisted were burned, dismembered, or thrown into boiling sugar vats.

Horrific mortality rates were over 50% of enslaved people in Barbados, and Jamaica died within three years of arrival.

Example: In the 18th century, Jamaica imported 1 million Africans, but the Black population never exceeded 350,000 because of high death rates.

Brazil: The Deadliest Place for an Enslaved African

Brazil received 10 times more Africans than the U.S.

Mortality was extreme—the average enslaved person in Brazil lived only 7 years after arrival.

Enslaved Africans were sent to gold and diamond mines as well as plantations.

Work conditions were so dangerous that enslaved people rarely survived long enough to have children.

Example: By 1888, when Brazil finally abolished slavery, only 1.5 million Africans remained—out of the 5 million who had been imported.

North America: Slavery Designed to Last Forever

Unlike in Brazil and the Caribbean, U.S. enslavers encouraged reproduction—enslaved women were forced to have children who would also be enslaved.

Enslaved people were concentrated in the U.S. South, working primarily in cotton, tobacco, and rice plantations.

Punishments were brutal—whippings, forced starvation, mutilation, and being sold away from family.

Enslaved people were forced to build the wealth of the U.S., generating profits that funded the industrial revolution.

Example: By 1860, the U.S. enslaved population had grown to 4 million people, despite importing fewer Africans.

3. African Resistance: How Enslaved People Fought Back

No matter where they were enslaved, Africans resisted. Some fought directly in revolts, while others resisted through escape, sabotage, and cultural survival.

The Caribbean: The Epicentre of Slave Revolts

The Haitian Revolution (1791-1804): The only successful slave revolt that resulted in an independent Black nation. Led by Toussaint Louverture, Jean-Jacques Dessalines, and other African warriors.

Jamaican Maroons: Escaped Africans in Jamaica created independent communities and waged war against the British.

The Baptist War (1831): A massive revolt in Jamaica, led by Samuel Sharpe, that helped bring about the end of slavery in the British Empire.

Brazil: The Land of Quilombos and Islamic Uprisings

Quilombo dos Palmares (1605-1695): A powerful free Black kingdom led by Zumbi dos Palmares, who resisted Portuguese rule for decades.

The Malê Revolt (1835): An uprising led by African Muslim enslaved people in Bahia, one of the largest slave revolts in South American history.

North America: Rebellions and the Underground Railroad

Nat Turner’s Rebellion (1831): A violent uprising in Virginia, where enslaved people killed white enslavers before being brutally repressed.

The Underground Railroad: A vast network of Black and white abolitionists who helped enslaved people escape to freedom.

Everyday acts of resistance: Breaking tools, slowing work, poisoning enslavers, and secretly preserving African traditions.

Fact: In the U.S., most enslaved rebellions were brutally crushed, but resistance continued in other forms.

4. After Slavery: How Each Region Treated Freed Black People

North America: Racial Segregation & Systemic Oppression

The U.S. replaced slavery with Jim Crow laws, segregation, and mass incarceration.

Black Codes restricted Black freedom—freed people could be arrested for being unemployed and forced back into labour.

The wealth gap between Black and white Americans remains a direct result of slavery.

Brazil: Slavery Ends, But Black People Remain at the Bottom

Brazil was the last country to abolish slavery (1888).

Freed Black people were excluded from land ownership and kept in extreme poverty.

Anti-Blackness remains deeply embedded—Afro-Brazilians face police violence and economic discrimination today.

The Caribbean: Black Majority, But Still Under White Rule

Jamaica, Haiti, Barbados, and other islands had Black majorities, but white elites still controlled the economy.

Many former enslaved people were forced into low-wage plantation labour.

Haiti was economically punished for its independence, forced to pay "reparations" to France for freeing itself.

5. Garvey’s Vision: Rebuilding Africa & Black Empowerment

Marcus Garvey understood that slavery didn’t end in 1865 or 1888—it evolved. The systems of oppression created during slavery still impact Black people globally.

The wealth stolen from Africa must be returned to Black hands.

Black people must control their own economies, land, and governments.

The future of African people is in unity.

"Africa for the Africans, at home and abroad!" — Marcus Garvey

Final Thoughts: Learning From the Past, Fighting for the Future

Slavery was meant to destroy us, but it failed. Our ancestors fought back, preserved our culture, and laid the foundation for Black liberation.

We must continue that fight—through economic empowerment, education, and Pan-African unity.

[suzukiblu]

WIP excerpt: Not-Kon/Not-Match. (( chrono || non-chrono ))

Maybe she picked too many options ending on an "n", Cassie realizes belatedly, glancing at him again. Though a lot of the options did, really, and apparently Not-Kon/Not-Match likes that anyway, so . . . 

Not-Kon/Not-Match is looking very intently at the scallions he's chopping, she notices. 

"I vote Nolan," she decides, since that's the one he actually said he liked. "It means 'champion', it looks like. Just in case you need an alias later, for whatever reason you might need one. Or want." 

"Mm," Not-Kon/Not-Match says, still very decidedly focused on chopping up those scallions. Never has a scallion been so decidedly chopped, Cassie thinks. "Yeah. Okay. Nolan it is." 

"Cool," Cassie says, putting her phone to sleep and setting it aside. "Nice to meet you, Nolan." 

Nolan smiles, just a little, and glances up to meet her eyes. He looks exactly like Kon, and nothing like Kon at all. 

"Nice to meet you too, Cassie," he says quietly, still smiling. 

She smiles back. It's not Kon's smile he's wearing, which makes it easier. 

Though she does wonder if he's doing that on purpose or not. 

Nolan finishes up with the scallions and checks on the noodles, then throws the edamame into the pot with them and grabs a bowl and some rice vinegar and soy sauce and brown sugar and then . . . Cassie's not sure, is he, like . . . making salad dressing or something? Or maybe a marinade? 

Weird. 

Okay, Tim definitely uploaded actual, like, real and genuine recipes into Nolan's brain. That is definitely a thing that he did, for whatever reason. 

Also weird, under the circumstances. 

Less weird that Nolan would go straight to using said recipes, though, since he's very explicitly prioritizing not being Kon right now. Cassie figures that's reasonable, under the circumstances. Although probably Kon would've also rather broken out of his cloning tube into a nice comfy superhero base with a cute girl and a stocked kitchen in it, she suspects. Well–assuming that Nolan actually thinks she's cute, anyway, but her personal self-image issues aside the point still stands. 

Really it'd be better if Nolan didn't think she was cute, come to think, because neither of them needs that problem in life. Just . . . yeah, no. Never, please, for both their sakes. 

Hopefully the therapy uploads will deal with that issue if it actually becomes an issue. 

Nolan finishes with the probably-dressing and strains the noodles and edamame over the sink, then grabs a bigger bowl and throws everything in it together to toss. Cassie watches, half-debating calling someone again, but only on principle. She doesn't feel like she's in danger or needs backup and feels even less like bringing everyone down on Nolan's head all at once would help the situation. 

Also if she does someone might call him "Conner" without knowing any better, sooooo . . . 

Yeah, calling can wait. 

At least until after they eat and clean up, anyway. 

Nolan gets a couple of bowls and forks out, which probably she should’ve thought to do herself, and then he splits the noodles between them and sets them down on opposite sides of the counter before sitting down across from her. He looks exactly like Kon, and exactly like Match, and nothing like either of them at all. 

But still enough like Kon for it to hurt, of course. 

“Thanks,” Cassie says. 

“Sure,” he says.

[clatterbane]

Plans for tonight, only going for a half-sized batch using cottage cheese. Closer to this version:

But, using some frozen meatballs thawed and cut in half for the extra protein component and some frozen thawed spinach added in just because I like it.

Penne on soaking now. This is actually a brand I haven't tried before, which can be dangerous with GF pastas if you have texture issues. But, I did want penne for this. And the "soak to rehydrate, then bake" approach has worked well with pastas that were tricky to cook right before.

Idgaf about "healthy", what I'm looking for is tasty and easy.

If nothing else, various baked pasta fixings will also cover a multitude of sins and make subpar stuff more edible.

On the side, whether it really matches or not? We're getting some leftovers of one recent take on Mustard Pickled Cucumber (involving sweet-hot prepared Swedish mustard and a little rice vinegar, no extra sugar needed) filled out with some salted and drained sliced daikon. Should make a decent salady side dish.

The original cucumbers did go well with some prepackaged cheesy au gratin potatoes plus other root vegetables that we had the other night. (A little carrot, rutabaga, and apparently parsnip that you thankfully couldn't taste. I have never liked parsnip.)

[emilieautumnarchives]

Rolling Scone: Matcha Steamed Buns (Gluten Free)

Posted: August 31, 2014 Archived from Rolling Scone (EAOnline)

It’s odd, I think…

Odd that a girl who desired, as a child, to become a French pastry chef should gravitate towards the often inexplicable and decidedly non-Western tastes and textures of Asian baked goods when it comes to her own choice of teatime delicacies. But I can’t be blamed…

The creativity alone…it’s mind-bending.

I mean, a croissant, right? It’s bloody perfect, but it makes sense. Flour, butter…lots of butter…of course it’s perfect.

But cakes filled with red bean or, perhaps, lotus paste? Sticky balls of rice rolled in sesame seeds and fried? Fluffy buns just barely sweet, infused with powdered green tea leaves, and steamed in bamboo? These sound just plain weird.

Oh, but they’re not…

For me, these gorgeous buns are all about the texture — that lovely, bouncy, fluffy, chewy, cloud-like texture. And, lucky for me and my gluten-intolerant friends, the use of rice flour in Asian baking has a great deal to do with that, as does the technique of steaming instead of baking. Being also allergic to refined sugars, I was delighted to find my favorite healthier sweeteners worked perfectly to create just the subtlest hint of sweetness. I personally love it when the bitter, grassy matcha shines through — otherwise, what’s the point of using such a precious ingredient, right?

And yes, it’s also about the tea. My beloved matcha…I drink the stuff, I cook with it, I bake with it, I even wash my face with it. It is the star ingredient in the Asylum kitchen, and that which makes all things irresistible to me. M…A…T…C…H…A… The word alone makes me so very happy… It’s also ridiculously healthy, but that’s another story…let’s just focus on the buns for now, shall we?

For starters, let’s peek at our ingredients. For a gluten-free baking recipe, this isn’t bad at all, is it?

Those of you who have known me as a vegan for a very long time may be surprised at my use of eggs and yoghurt (honey I’ve never had an ethical problem with as long as it comes from a good source). To be brief (not my strong point), I became dangerously copper toxic a few years ago, which resulted in my becoming terribly allergic to all, and I do mean ALL, vegan protein sources, those being, ironically, the foods highest in copper. Copper toxicity is a danger for some vegans but not for others, depending on your chemistry, use of medications, past use of birth control pills (ewww, DO NOT do it, ladies), and even personality type (high-strung ladies in particular, not joking), so if you are successfully rocking it out vegan-style, I think that’s fantastic. But I can’t, and I found that out the hard way, i.e. being rushed to the ER four times during one European tour alone. After months of cutting out all vegan protein sources, meaning that I was getting exactly no protein whatsoever (stupid, I know that, but I’m stubborn), my body had begun to break down. Anyone remember when I was super crazy thin on tour a few years back? Are you one of those Plague Rats whose mother was writing me telling me that I was setting a bad example for their child by being so thin, implying that I had an eating disorder? That was during this time. Makes sense now, doesn’t it…

At long last, I was convinced by people who loved me to eat a damned egg. After that, I began to get better. Fast. You can tell in photos from the following tours…no more suspicions of an eating disorder, no more letters from concerned parents.

While my allergies to nuts and beans are no longer, I am still allergic to soy, as well as to gluten, refined sugar, yeast, and alcohol, all allergies that were brought on by my copper toxicity. Thanks a lot, copper.

Bottom line? Buy the good stuff. Being healthy is expensive, I know, and don’t think that’s an accident, because it’s not. But it’s not nearly as pricey as medical bills and medications. Organic everything, always. Eggs are always cage free, free range, and from a local farm if you can manage it, or raise your own chickens, love them, use the eggs they’re laying anyway, don’t kill and eat them, and everybody’s happy. Same goes for other dairy. Get a goat, pet a cow, or make friends with someone who did. Sounds absurd, I know, but my point is simply that there IS a way to be non-vegan (still vegetarian of course) and humane. It’s worth the effort, and it tastes a lot better too…

So much for being brief…anyway!

Look at these beautiful colors… Raw coconut sugar is my go-to sweetener for baking, and I use it to replace refined sugar in recipes I’m altering to suit my no gluten/no refined sugar needs.

The only thing I ought to point out is that, when using coconut sugar and other darker colored sweeteners such as maple and date sugars, coconut nectar, or maple syrup (no agave — Google why you shouldn’t use it and get angry at advertising making fools of us yet again), you will have to come to terms with the reality that you will not achieve that stunning, bright green that matcha powder imparts to baked goods using refined, white sugar. I’m just fine with this, and I think you will be, too.

Now, here’s the thing…you are going to need a bamboo steamer for this recipe. If you’re lucky to be near a Chinatown-type area, you should be able to pick one of these beautiful creatures up for $10 or less. Otherwise, try this one on Amazon. [link removed]

I promise you, you won’t resent me for making you buy this…you can use it for cooking dumplings, steaming vegetables, boiling eggs…all manner of things. Go crazy. I don’t mind. I’d be sad if you didn’t.

Here perches my bamboo beauty on the pot of boiling water. Steaming these buns is incredibly fast, and the whole process will take you less than twenty minutes from start to finish. I made these last night at one in the morning on a whim. I ate four of them. Also on a whim. Four.

Just look at that dense yet light and chewy texture…nothing short of addictive…did I mention I ate four?

Next time I may add dark chocolate bits, or top with toasted black sesame seeds. Or both. You can’t tell me what to do.

Matcha Steamed Buns (Gluten Free) Author: Emilie Autumn Makes 8 cup-cake sized buns.

Ingredients

3 large eggs

3 tablespoons raw honey

3 tablespoons unrefined coconut oil

½ cup plain greek yoghurt

1 teaspoon pure vanilla extract

1 teaspoon pure almond extract

1½ cups gluten-free all-purpose flour blend (*flour blend recipe below)

3 tablespoons raw coconut sugar

3 teaspoons matcha green tea powder

3 teaspoons baking powder

¼ teaspoon sea salt

Instructions

Whisk together the eggs, honey, coconut oil, yoghurt, and the vanilla and almond extracts.

In a separate bowl, sift together the flour blend, coconut sugar, matcha powder, baking powder, and salt. Sifting the dry ingredients at least once is essential to creating that light and fluffy texture we're after.

Add the wet ingredients to the dry mixture and stir well to combine thoroughly.

Fill a large pot half full with water and bring to a boil. I use the pot I generally use for cooking pasta as my bamboo steamer is just about the same size and sits safely on the rim, but use whatever pot will support your steamer.

Meanwhile, place as many paper cupcake liners (mine fits seven) as you can fit into your bamboo steaming tray so that the liners are touching each other. This way, your buns will support each other as they rise, and your batter won't spill. I double the liners up for added strength.

Fill the paper liners two thirds full with the batter, as it will rise quite impressively.

Place the lid on the steamer and set the steamer on top of the pot of boiling water. Let the buns steam for 8 minutes, or until they are just barely firm to the touch and a toothpick inserted into the bun comes out clean. The buns should be soft and springy, so do be careful not to overcook them, and don't be discouraged if it takes you a few tries to get your timing right. The perfect bun is more than worth it!

If you like the bitterness of matcha as much as I do, go ahead and very lightly dust the tops of the cooked buns with matcha powder. This will also give you back a touch of that brilliant green we've lost by using coconut sugar.

Notes

These buns are best eaten while still warm and fresh, but will keep for a day or two before becoming more suitable for...matcha tea bread pudding! That's right, Darlings, just break up your too-firm buns, toss the bits in a bowl, and douse with your hot milk of choice (dairy or non). Sprinkle with coconut sugar or other unrefined sweetener and you won't remember why stale was ever a bad thing to be.

*Gluten-free All-Purpose Flour Blend Recipe:

4 cups brown rice flour 2 cups white rice flour 2 cups potato starch 1 cup tapioca starch

Sift all ingredients and use cup for cup to substitute regular flour in many recipes. Store in your refrigerator.

With love from my Asylum to yours,

~ EA

[akwolfgrl]

Heart-shaped onigri part one

Sanji had a lot of experience making onigiri. It was an easy handheld snack for the shittysowrds men. It was his job as the chef to make sure the muscle head had enough food to keep his muscles. The marimo was either napping or lifting insane weights. When he was lifting, snacks were eaten, one handed unless sanji wanted to come out to Luffy, licking the mess off the deck.

Sanji placed the warm rice into his damp palm and scooped tuna and spicy mayo, filling into the middle before layering more rice on top. He began to shape and mold the onigiri with his hands.

He placed a small sheet of nori on the bottom of the onigiri and placed it on the plate before snapping on gloves. He had left a few raw crabs in a spicy marinade, Sanji squeezed the shell, watching the meat ooze out of the red coated shell. He sucked the rest out as a quick quality check. He could taste the sweetness of the crabs, the spicy marinade, and the rich nuttiness of the toasted sesame oil he drizzled on top. Sanji quickly finished emptying the rest of the crabs before forming the sconed onigiri heart.

The last filling was egg and beef with onions. Sanji cured the yolks. In soy sauce for three hours before he cooked the thinly sliced beef with equally thin onions in a mix of soy, mirin, sake, and a pinch of sugar. He didn't know if the man had a preference for seafood like he did. Maybe this was a way of getting the other man to open up a bit.

Sanji placed the last ongri down on the plate. Before he could sprinkle a few black sesame seeds on top.

Sanji could feel his face redden as he thought about the broody surgeon. Sanji never went out of his way for men, yet he was making their guest his favorite food. Sanji could be using this time to make the ladies something special. Instead, he had decided to make Law three different onigiri. The tattooed warlord wouldn't be on board for long, Sanji knew that even if they ended up together, it wouldn't last. The man was a captain of his own ship, and Sanji wouldn't leave his crew.

“Oi shit-cook booze!” Zoro rudely slammed the door to the galley open, demanding his vice.

“Fuck off, shitty swordsman, you can wait five fucking minutes!” Sanji yelled back, and glared at the green-haired man who had barged into his domain. “I'm busy!”

Zoro looked at the plate on the counter. “Yah busy making a fool of yourself! Do you really think you'll have any better luck with a man? Damn ero-cook at it again! What's next gonna nose bleed all over him? That man is dangerous and will be an enemy after this alliance is over with! Or have you forgotten about Punk Hazard?”

Sanji saw red. He knew that Zoro had a point. “Shut up!” but he wasn't ready to admit anything.

Zoro gave him a feral grin that spelled trouble. ”Make me curlybrow.”

Sanji kicked the bastard out of the galley door chasing after him. Zoro had drawn his swords as they fought.

[dutiful-wildcraft]

TW: disordered eating, food insecurity

Soap grew up as a chubby boy, his whole family was really, stalky with healthy layers of fat over there bones, a combination of lifestyle and just plain ole genetics. It was a point of pride from his mam, who fed them potatoes and rice and pastas, easy and cheap carbs to keep her babies bellies full despite their struggling income.

Johnny, who'd never felt bad about it until school, where his peers teased him for his soft rolls and clothes that fit him just shy of too tight. Johnny who scarfed down all the food on his tray at lunch and never wasted a bite.

It broke his heart more to see it aimed at his sisters. His beautiful sisters, with their sweet round faces and kind smiles. The same sisters who shared his bulky shoulders and soft tummy, who gave the warmest cuddles and best advice.

Soap who started to bulk up and become leaner to beat anyone's ass who dare insult them again.

Soap who still has stretch marks on his thighs and belly well into his career, stripes he still wears with pride.

Gaz who has a food aversion from a childhood filled with obsessions over carbs and calories and sugars. His gran and mum, who were viciously concerned about their own figures when he was just a boy.

Gaz who lived in an “ingredient household.” Gaz who had to sneak food in the night for fear of punishment. Gaz who's snacks were nasty protein bars or meal replacement shakes. Gaz who was trained to look at every food label and compare nutrition facts, who cut his food into tiny pieces, or ate only in a certain order. (Chugging water makes you feel full he'd learned) Gaz who started checking his body and weight multiple times a day.

Gaz who still struggles despite trying to repair his relationship with food well into adulthood. On base, chugging an energy drink and eating a granola bar for breakfast isn't blinked at. Not eating at all doesn't look suspicious when out in dangerous operations.

Soap learns to refuse Gaz when he innocently tries to offer up the rest of his dinner in the mess. Ghost who peels off all the nutrition labels on the food when he grocery shops for the team. Price who makes sure they both stay fed when together on ops.

Ghost who had been scrawny his whole life. Little Simon who's ribs were visible, who's skin bruised like a peach. Who ate what little they could scrounge up but still saved some for his mum and Tommy.

Simon who is averse to food textures, who struggled to choke down whatever meager meal that was put in front of him.

Simon who's stress and anxiety chronically made his stomach hurt, made putting on weight nearly impossible, made eating what was put in front of him miserable when he knew his father would beat him if he refused to eat the broccoli that made his stomach churn.

Simon who got a job at the butcher shop as soon as he could. Who packed home the trash cuts so he and his family could have something of substance.

Simon who was turned away from the military the first time because he couldn't meet weight requirements.

Simon who gorged himself on meat and rice until he wanted to vomit, just to force some weight on.

Simon who learned to chew fast and swallow quickly with the disgusting textures of military gruel.

Simon who now eats the same meals for breakfast, lunch and dinner everyday on base without fail. Simon who still cant bring himself to waste a single thing put in front of him, regardless of if it pains him to do so.

[phoenix-downer]

Kintsugi

Chapter 3 - Falling

Summary: Sora, Riku, and Strelitzia go shopping together in Quadratum to help Sora buy clothes for Kairi. The boys aren't sure what her size is, but Strelitzia helps them estimate it, and Sora finds something very special to give to Kairi. KH4 SoKai pining, angst, romance, and fluff.

Written as a celebration for posting my hundredth SoKai story on AO3! 🥳 Thank you all for voting in the poll and for all the support over the years ❤️

Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | Chapter 3 | Chapter 4 | Chapter 5

Sora’s eyes fluttered open. The cold light of Quadratum filtered through his window. It was never like the warmth of light back home. Never warm like—

His hand went to his cheek, his lips. They were warm. He closed his eyes and sighed. The dreams were getting more and more vivid. Tears slipped down his cheeks, and he traced a path down to his heart. It ached and throbbed because a part of it wasn't here. It was with her, safely hidden deep inside her heart.

"Kairi…” he murmured, a plea, a prayer. She knew now, knew the truth, the key to finding him. How could he be terrified for her safety but long for her to come all the same?

He felt as though he were falling, falling, falling, with no end in sight. What would it take to be caught? For her to finally reach him or he to reach her?

He groaned and sat up, every muscle aching from the fights yesterday on this world called Endor. Man, he missed his bed back home sometimes. His futon here was nice, but maybe he could save up enough for a bed. His back would definitely thank him.

He went through the motions of his morning routine. Something about that was oddly comforting. A little familiarity in a sea of unknowns. After that, he padded to the kitchen and started making breakfast. There was a knock at his door before too long.

“Good morning,” he said, greeting Riku and Strelitzia. They smiled and said the usual phrase when entering someone else's home as they removed their shoes: “Sorry for the intrusion,” except Sora wasn't sorry at all. Having them both here eased his loneliness a little.

They set their things down and helped him finish making the meal. Before too long, the three of them were seated at his kotatsu with a feast in front of them: green tea, miso soup, steamed rice, salted salmon, roasted seaweed, tamagoyaki (a rolled egg omelette cooked with sugar, just like Kairi always used to make it), and pickled daikon and cucumbers.

Being so far away from Kairi made him really miss her cooking, so he had used his training with Little Chef to recreate recipes from back home. Riku was very appreciative. Strelitzia was intrigued but had grown to like his cooking. It was just very different from what she had grown up with.

“So,” Riku said between bites of rice eaten via chopsticks, “how are we all doing today?”

Sora and Strelitzia just groaned. That got Riku to crack a half-grin.

“The past several days really were an adventure," Strelitzia said, “but I'm glad to be back. I know this isn't home, but it's where we all belong for now.” She frowned and poked at her salmon with her chopsticks. “I just wish we'd found another clue to get us all home.”

Strelitzia really, really missed her brother. She had been stuck here for hundreds of years and still wasn't any closer to seeing him again. Whatever path they found home, Sora knew it had to include her.

“How about you, Sora? Anything new to report since last night?" Riku asked.

“Actually, I had another dream,” he told them both. They instantly perked up.

“About Kairi?” Riku asked.

Sora nodded, his hand going to his chest. “She knows a part of my heart is in her heart now. And she said Aqua had explained the theory behind the Power of Waking to her.”

Riku's eyebrows shot up. “But she doesn't know how to use it. I didn't tell her how before I left.” He set his bowl of rice down. “I don't know, this sounds dangerous.”

Sora sighed. “That's what I tried to tell her. But you know how she is.” He and Riku shared a knowing look. She was stubbornly loyal, determined to get her way, strong-willed, strong-hearted, brave almost to the point of stupidity, and she never gave up hope and had even defied death itself to keep the people she loved alive.

Yeah, there was no way she wasn't coming for them the moment she figured out how.

“She's really someone special, isn't she?” Strelitzia said, a melancholy smile on her face. “She would have to be, to keep you two on your toes.” She fiddled with one of her pigtails, her expression wistful. “I really want to meet her.”

“You will.” And Sora meant it. A thrill ran through him at the thought of seeing her again. Was it a question of when now instead of if? It had to be. He would believe in that with all his heart.

————————————————————————

After finishing breakfast, Sora, Riku, and Strelitzia walked to the Omote-Sando Subway Station and hopped on the Ginza Line for Shibuya Station. Shibuya was their go-to area for shopping, and Strelitzia had suggested they buy some clothes for Kairi, just in case.

Their intended destination, the Shibuya PARCO, was a multilevel shopping complex with just about every kind of store and restaurant you could want and then some. The three of them headed to the fourth floor where there were a lot of good clothing stores.

As the elevator dinged and the doors opened, a little shiver went down Sora’s spine. It was superstitious of him, but he still couldn't get over how much the word for “four” sounded like death, and now they were on the fourth floor. He supposed he was dead already, and yet the thought of dying dying still freaked him out.

He pushed those thoughts down and followed Strelitzia and Riku into one of the stores. They were here to buy nice things for Kairi. Yes, this place was expensive, but he had made good munny on their missions, and he wanted to treat her.

There was just one problem.

“You don't know her size?” Strelitzia asked, frowning. Sora and Riku both winced. They supposed they should know after knowing her most of their lives, but they did not. And Sora hadn't really gotten the chance to buy her anything before disappearing.

Strelitzia tapped her cheek and thought. “Hmmmm, how do you think she compares to me? Maybe we could use that to figure out her size. Is she taller, shorter, skinnier, wider…”

Sora thought for a moment. He didn't want to say something to accidentally offend Strelitzia. He knew enough about girls to know that comparing her directly to Kairi was a bad idea.

Hold on a second. His heart had merged with Kairi’s heart several times now in his dreams. Maybe he could use that to give Strelitzia an estimate.

“She's short and petite but…curvy,” he said. He knew a blush was creeping up his face and could sense Riku smirking right next to him, but this was important. “Um, she's got dark red hair that's about this long,” he continued, gesturing to indicate roughly what length her hair was, “and great legs,” he added, indicating their length. “They’re long for her height.”

Strelitzia nodded. “What about her hip and waist size? That'll be really important for finding skirts and pants.”

Oh, Sora was going to kill Riku for that snicker just now. His face was burning and he couldn't look either of them in the eye. “Small waist, wide hips,” he mumbled. Something else he loved about her figure popped into his head, and he thought he was going to die all over again, this time from embarrassment.

Strelitzia made a few notes in her phone about possible sizes. “Oh, and could you also estimate her bust size? I know it's awkward, but that'll impact the shirts and dresses we look for.”

He couldn't even answer out loud, just very awkwardly made a gesture while avoiding both their eyes.

“So she has a pear-shaped figure?” Strelitzia asked, as if this was a scientific investigation.

"I guess?” He looked to Riku helplessly. “Is that what it's called?”

Riku just shrugged. Some help he was.

“I think that's enough to at least give me an idea,” Strelitzia said. “I'll hold up a couple of different sizes of the same clothes and ask you guys to eyeball it from there.”

Surprisingly, that method actually kind of worked. And Sora did know what color of clothes and style of clothes Kairi liked. Lots of pinks, purples, and blues in cute, feminine, and sporty styles. That was one of the things he loved about her. She could dress up and draw everyone's eyes, but she could also be a complete tomboy roughing it in a tank top and shorts.

When it came time to find shoes, they were in a bind again. But surprisingly, Riku randomly remembered her shoe size from some offhand remark she’d made one day to Selphie. With that knowledge, they found a pair of sneakers, black boots, and house slippers. Then it was time for jewelry. Thankfully, earrings and necklaces were one size fits all, but rings were a different story.

“How big are her hands?” Strelitzia asked, once again back in scientist mode as Riku scoped out ring designs glittering at them behind glass cases. “How do they compare to mine?”

Sora thought for a moment. “You know, come to think of it, they're probably about the same size as yours. Do you mind if I feel your fingers just to be sure?”

Strelitzia nodded and offered her hand. How Kairi's hand felt in his was stored deep inside his heart. His left hand twitched again, aching to hold her hand again. He gently felt Strelitzia's fingers and wondered if she had ever been in love. Had she ever had anyone special before her life had been cut short so quickly?

He hoped she had. But she hadn't volunteered the information, and he hadn't asked.

“Yeah, I think you probably have about the same ring size as she does,” he said, letting go of her hand.

Strelitzia smiled. “Great! I'm a size 5. I think you should pick something really special for her.”

"I will. But while I'm doing that, go pick out some cute scrunchies for your pigtails and a cute bag. It's the least I can do to thank you for all your help. And Riku, get yourself a nice jacket or something.”

Riku raised an eyebrow. “You sure about that? The prices here are pretty steep.”

“You left home and came to an entirely different reality to find me, which is priceless. A jacket doesn't even begin to repay that debt.”

Riku gave him a half smile. “That's two you owe me, but it's not a debt I ever expect you to repay.”

With that he and Strelitzia went off to look for potential purchases together, and Sora carefully searched the rings for the perfect one. It had to be something delicate but sturdy that would match her bracelets and the beloved necklace Aqua had enchanted so long ago.

There. A simple silver band with a pink jewel cut in the shape of a lotus flower caught his eye. The flower was remarkably similar to what her heart had looked like when he’d rescued her. It was perfect.

He grabbed a few more things for Kairi and then went back to the jewelry section. Strelitzia and Riku had returned, Strelitzia with two adorable colorful scrunchies for her hair plus a new purse, and Riku with a black leather jacket. With that the three of them entered the checkout line, and Sora placed his hard–earned munny onto the little blue tray for the cashier. The smiles on Strelitzia and Riku’s faces made it worth it though, and so did the thought of giving Kairi her gifts. Especially the ring. He slipped its little box into his pocket. She might come any day now, and he had to be ready.

She'd promised, after all, and she'd never let him down before.

————————————————————————

After grabbing dinner at the food court in the basement of Shibuya PARCO, Sora, Riku, and Strelitzia headed back toward the Scramble Crossing. Each of them carried several bags filled with Kairi gifts, the evidence of a successful haul.

Sora quietly listened as his two friends chatted away. Today has been a good day. Riku had really come out of his shell around Strelitzia, and Strelitzia finally had another friend. Everything looked a little less drab and dull. Like he was seeing not quite in full color yet, but tints and shades instead of just grays and browns.

The only thing that would've made today better was having all his friends here. All his friends and Kairi most of all. He couldn't wait to see her again, to show her all the things he had discovered in Quadratum, to give her these gifts, to introduce her to—

He spotted something out of the corner of his eye in a nearby alley. Something strange, something that didn't belong in this realm. He tensed, his hackles raised. Was that—

It raced through the shadows cast by all the streetlights and brightly colored advertisements, confirming his suspicions. A Heartless, for sure, but unlike any he had ever seen before. The hate it harbored toward him felt personal. A thing of darkness, hellbent on destruction and decay and death.

There was no time to summon his Keyblade. A warning scream ripped from his throat. He pushed Riku and Strelitzia out of the way, off of the sidewalk and onto the Scramble Crossing. His friends stumbled as he whirled around to face the Heartless. In the precious few seconds he had spent sparing his friends and warning the other bystanders, it had risen from the shadows and grown and grown and grown. He only had a split second to be terrified before he felt darkness tearing into him.

His friends' panicked yells sounded out, and a horrible pain pierced him to the depths of his heart. He was vaguely aware of shopping bags going everywhere and a stampede of panicked people. Everything was cold, freezing cold, and the world around him faded to black. He was falling, falling, falling into darkness with no end in sight.

Amidst the pain and horror and confusion, one simple, lonely thought remained.

I just wanted to see her, one last time.

————————————————————————

A/N: Thank you all for reading! This chapter was also a lot of fun to write. I really enjoyed the Sora Riku Strelitzia friendship and got a kick out of writing their scenes together. They were just so many fun moments and dynamics between the three of them that I wasn't expecting but really enjoyed discovering. It was also fun including the traditional Japanese style breakfast and shopping at the Shibuya PARCO. Hope you enjoyed the chapter! Sorry not sorry for that cliffhanger lol. See you all next week! ❤️

[dangerkittenclaws]

simon x medic!ed!reader

word count: 1.1k

warnings: eating disorder thoughts, actions, consequences, fainting, unestablished relationship, mutual pining ftw

a/n: have this blurb of hurt/comfort that came to me while i work on requests and part 3 of pop. luv u <3

You wake up in bed with a horrendous stomachache. You tap your phone beside you, it reads 3:48am. You throw your covers off of you, covered in sweat.

You roll to your back before immediately curling up with your arms held tight around your stomach to stave off the cramping.

When was the last time you had eaten? Right. That's something that normal people do.

It had only been…two.. three.. you count in your head. Four…days? That's not that bad, is it? You’ve gone longer.

Another pang shoots through your midsection. Noone else would be in the rec room to watch you eat.

Cereal. Cereal is what your stomach wanted. Something sweet and full of sugar and carbohydrates. You think you’ve seen a box of Choco Rice in the cabinet.

Your brain fights back equally, the Chinese takeout you had the other day with everyone would be enough to hold you over until lunch tomorrow. It was full of carbohydrates. More than enough, surely. You could throw the cereal up after too, that was always an option.

You should know, as a medic, how nutrition works. Of course you know and you tell others, but ignore every bit of logical information when it comes to your own wellbeing. You don’t count in that particular equation.

“Fuck it,” you mumble to yourself as you turn over to throw your legs over the side. You don't even bother with slippers and you open your door as quietly as possible, the other hand gripping the hem of your damp shirt.

Your vision goes dark around the edges and you reach out for the wall of the hallway to stabilize you. You touch a hand to your forehead before moving on.

You enter the rec room at the end of the hallway where the hulking figure of Simon is leaning over a steeping cup of tea. He turns at your rather noisy entrance.

Shit. You didn’t want anyone here. You can always take it back to your room.

Dizziness fills your head and you become unfocused, still leaning against the doorframe.

“You alright there?”

“Yeah, uh, I…,” you take a few steps forward and another cramp twists in your stomach, hunching you forward.

“Clearly not,”

“No, I, sorry, I just feel dizzy, just forgot to eat yesterday,” you explain wildly trying to complete your mission before you get asked any more questions.

You know Simon is watching your every move. You try to control your movements, to try to stop your hands from shaking as your blood sugar is dropping dangerously low.

You open the cabinet and grab out a bowl for yourself. You stare at the empty bowl on the counter for longer than necessary, trying to make your eyes focus on the task at hand. The more you stare the harder it is to stay standing straight, you realize.

Simon gets close to you, and you feel a hand at your back. You tip backwards and crumble. “Fuck,” is the last thing you hear.

You come to on the rec couch, letting out a whine.

“There you are, love.” Simon comes into view.

“Now you want to tell me why you just passed out on me?”

Your face goes red and you want to implode and disappear. You cover your face with your inner elbow.

“No hiding. Tell me. Please.”

“I…I haven’t eaten.” you nearly whisper.

“Right, in how long?” his long fingers graze over your other arm, like he’s trying to calm a scared cat.

“Just since yesterday morning,” you lie.

You see his eyes catch your glance over, you know you’ve been caught. Why did you even try with him? It’s like he has a sixth sense. You know this.

“Try again.”

“Four…four days.”

“Let’s get something in you so you don’t pass out again, that sound okay?”

You nod in agreement.

“You stay here, I’ll bring you something.” He touches your arm again to reassure you.

“‘kay.” you mumble out, turning on your side. Your vision is better and you can focus a bit, but you don’t let your eyes wander, it makes your stomach drop. You close them to be safe.

You don’t know how long you lay there with your eyes shut, ears listening to Simon puttering around the stove.

“You want to sit up for me?” Simon is there, holding a plate above you. You don’t know what it holds.

You manage to prop yourself up a bit backed up to the armrest, bending your legs to sit cross legged. You realize you probably look ragged and pathetic to the lieutenant.

Simon lowers the plate to put in your lap, you finally see what mystery food he made you.

It’s still steaming scrambled eggs and a piece of buttered toast. Your eyes nearly pop out of your head. It’s a lot.

He reads your mind before you can speak.

“Don’t expect you to finish. Just need something in you. We can figure out the rest in the morning. The real morning.”

You smile at him, picking up the fork. You look down at the plate. You choose a medium piece of egg to stab first.

“Ill just be in there cleaning up, okay, love?” You look up at him and give a small nod before turning back to the daunting task in your lap.

Not all of it. Just a little. Just enough.

You lift the fork to your mouth and the moment the eggs hit your tongue you salivate. You realize how desperately hungry you really are. They’re buttery and salty and perfect.

Before you know it, there's another forkful and another, a few bites of toast too.

Your stomach is protesting at the sudden change but you can tell you’ll be able to keep it down this time.

Simon made it for you. You have to keep it down. You can’t let him know how long this has really been going on, they’ll discharge you and it’ll be a big fuck up. You’d gone too far already, fainting in front of your team, by god. Simon walks back into the room to check on you.

“You did great, love.” You give him a small smile before turning back to the tv to watch whatever late night talk show was on.

You set the nearly empty plate on the coffee table in front of you. The sight of it makes you sick.

He sits next to you with an arm around the back of the couch. You curl up into his side, trying to suck up the warmth he’s radiating.

His arm moves down to your shoulder and he pulls you in closer. You don’t fight your drooping eyelids as you listen to the talk show and the air slowly filling and exiting his lungs.

Your breathing evens out eventually and Simon smiles down at you. You fell asleep cuddled into him, arm slung around his middle, gripping his sweatshirt in one fist with every bit of energy left, silently telling him not to leave.

“Little medic needs to be looked after too.”