#sliced bread queue

[build-a-stim]

peanut butter cow (2024) with grandmacore, knitting, and cats for @lovelorncat

X | X | X || X | X | X || X | X | X

edit: fixed the bottom left source

[kacievvbbbb]

I’m bored so question for the community. What are some of y’all’s Mishanks/goth fam Modern AU headcannons?

[timetravellingkitty]

GET SIRAJ TO 50K IN 2 DAYS!!

If you don't know by now, Siraj Abudayeh is a writer and journalist from Gaza. He is currently fundraising to survive through the genocide. He has a dream of rebuilding his home - this is his resistance against the settler state because he refuses to let the colonizers take over the city, the home, he so loves. Siraj and his family need to live through this difficult time. Everyday is a struggle where his family has to put in herculean efforts to acquire even the basic items of life. No one, who is from outside of Gaza can know how truly hellish these ten months have been. To provide you with just a glimpse of this hell, Siraj has asked me to share this message with you:

"Everyday, my children have to stand in a line to get 10 loaves of bread. You also have young girls, pregnant women, and the elderly. . . They all wait to purchase for their families, but the bakery is a wrestling ring! We quarrel with each other, scream until our throat hurts, and faint from the blazing heat! And the queue does not move while all of this is happening. . . Not even a prayer will save you from this misery!

For 3 straight hours, Muhammad, Siraj’s son, stood, counting on his fingers how many people will it be until it is his turn to receive the bread and return to his family. His turn has finally arrived.

Suddenly, an ear piercing sound slices through the the air!! It is heavier than an exploding F-16 missile: Children fled in fear, the bakery was hastily closed and Muhammad returned with a heavy burden of an empty stomach."

As of writing this $46,268 out $50,000 CAD have been raised. We have $3,732 left to go!

Please don't let it stagnate! As it has been mentioned before, Siraj is supporting more people than ever. He cannot afford the fundraiser to slow down. Every second counts! So please donate and share! Every bit counts!

Tagging for reach:

@deathlonging @briarhips @dirhwangdaseul @mahoushojoe

@rhubarbspring @schoolhater @pcktknife @transmutationisms @sawasawako

@feluka @terroristiraqiss @irhabiya @commissions4aid-international @wellwaterhysteria

@deepspaceboytoy @post-brahminism @khanger @kibumkim @neechees

@mangocheesecakes @kyra45 @marnota @7bitter @tortiefrancis

@toiletpotato @fromjannah @omegaversereloaded @vague-humanoid @evillesbianvillain

@aristotels @komsomolka @xinakwans @heritageposts

@ot3 @amygdalae @ankle-beez @lonniemachin @dykesbat

@watermotif @stuckinapril @mavigator @lacecap @yugiohz

@socalgal @chilewithcarnage @ghelgheli @sayruq @northgazaupdates2

@vakarians-babe

[themindelectricdemo4]

i don't know if i could EVER part HIM I mean, Just thinking about it tears through my brain like PAPER IN A SHREDDER I'm stone cold at a memorial thing 4 my late uncle but I think about losing HIM & tears start coming because he just fucking. Like how the fuck am I gonna do this i just wanna start ripping at my flesh & muscle because thinking about leaving him gives me the feeling that something is writhing under my skin I just wanna tear it out & make it stop ^^^^^^^^^ I imagine a world without both of my darlings & i think i would just k#(*%(^ll myself!!!!!!!!!!

[elysianightsss]

Oh my gosh I love love LOVE your ND reader as an autistic person myself when I find a fic or fics with a neurodivergent reader I cherish them and these my darling are a treasure. Please can you write when she realises that she likes Kyle? Thankyou Thankyou!

Soulmate 141 x ND Reader

You realise you like Kyle too

After a stressful day all you wanted was a slice of that chocolate chip banana bread, you could say it was a craving at this point. Something that was very rare for you.

Heading to your regular coffee shop after work, it was quiet at this time. The inside was all lit up with a golden orange glow from the lights hanging from the ceiling and the sweet vintage lamps littering the tables. It was getting dark outside, you figured you’d probably have to call a taxi soon.

“Oh hi, you’re not here at your normal time.” You looked up from where you had been getting your phone out of the black leather bag hanging on your shoulder.

“Hi Kyle.” You smiled at the man in front of you. Deep soulful brown eyes you could drown yourself in, beautiful chocolate skin that looked so silky and smooth under the orange glow. Holding a broom in his hand you only just noticed how most of the chairs were stacked on the tables. “Oh I’m so sorry it’s probably closing time soon. I’ll just go.”

“No it’s okay,” Kyle rushes out, the tips of his ears burning when he reached out and grabbed your wrist. Quickly he let go as if your skin had burnt him. He cleared his throat with a mumbled apology, “It’s alright, stay. I’ll make your regular.” He gave you a simple smile that had your insides warning up like seeing lights on the tree on Christmas morning.

A small nod, a little hesitant to ask for what you really wanted. Kyle noticed and managed to peel the information from you. “One slice of chocolate chip banana bread coming right up.” He grinned gesturing you towards one of the two empty tables that didn’t have chairs on them.

A few minutes pass of you just watching the outside world through the huge glass windows and Kyle is placing your regular and your craving in front of you on the table. You take a sip, eat a bite and sigh.

“Good?” Kyle asks sounding genuinely interested to know.

“So good.” You say, voice all muffled from the food stuffed in your cheeks. The answer, along with the cutest food pout he’s ever seen, makes Kyle grin. His heart skips a beat, his stomach flutters and his hands become sweaty. Such a reaction you pull from him and you don’t even know. He’s fought and killed men twice his size and yet here you are making him nervous.

Kyle doesn’t sit down, he gives you your space like you like but he can’t stop himself from glancing at you out the corner of his eye. Can’t fight the need to have you in his sights even if it’s a struggle to say no to the voice in his head urging him to take you in his arms.

He’s a strong man, mentally and physically. He can do this, if not for his sake, if not for his team’s sake, then for yours.

The next thirty minutes get away from you both, Kyle is just amazing at making you giggle. He jokes and says silly things that you’re almost certain he doesn’t mean but it’s funny either way.

Plate empty, drink finished and yet you find yourself wanting to stay. Wanting to converse with this lovely man that you spend twenty minutes with every morning. The way his eyes light up when you banter with him, how he grins to himself at your unrelatable awkward jokes.

If you could pick up on social queues maybe you’d actually see how much he likes you but you’re stuck on the realisation he might be number four on your list.

Kyle clears your table and once he’s done he offers you a ride home. It’s dark outside and unsafe are your reasonings for saying yes, definitely not that the gorgeous man in front of you looks like heaven to you.

The drive home is quiet, but a peaceful type of serene you love. The type you daydream about at your desk when things are too loud and overstimulating at work. Kyle can’t wipe the smirk off his face imagining Johnny and Simon’s reactions when he pulls up with you in the passenger seat.

He’s the complete gentleman when he does, opening the car door for you, a warm hand just hovering over the small of your back as he walks you up to the door of your flat building. It’s so sweet and endearing. It’s more than you’ve ever had before, it’s makes you a little light headed or is that just the cologne he’s wearing?

Either way it makes you go stupid, leaning forward with no control and lightly pressing your lips against his cheek. The action makes you jolt back to reality, you jump away from him a hand over your mouth eyes wide in shock. Kyle seems just as shocked, and when he goes to speak you basically shout ‘bye’ in his face before bursting into the building and sprinting up the stairs.

You completely ignore Johnny stood in the doorway of his flat with worried eyes, he asks if you’re okay as you’re unlocking your door but you don’t answer him. Your only goal is getting inside and slamming the door shut, you do it quickly before Johnny can ask more questions.

Johnny, one of the guys you like.

Johnny. Simon. John. And now Kyle. Maybe you should go to therapy? No, probably not best to go down that rabbit hole. Maybe just a week away from them all should set your mind right.

Yes, that should do it.

[velaenaa]

strawberry chocolate parfait \ nanami kento x reader (ch.1)

word count: 1.1k tags: slight slow burn, pining, romance, fluff, added as i go! setting: you are a worker at a bakery that nanami kento frequents ♡ authors note: hello ^_^ i hope you are doing wonderful! this is my first time writing for nanami. pls enjoy! chapter: 1/? <next>

Chapter 1 - Vanilla Cake

‘Does this guy need help….?’

‘He’s staring real hard at the bread…. Omg- is it ugly? Aw hell- I made that this morning…’ 

Your thoughts were cut off by the towering figure of a man, with two loaves of baguette in one hand and one container of cake, that happened to be your favorites, in the other. You smile up at him, “Will this be everything?” He gives a stiff nod, locking his eyes with yours, then you giggled; “Then.. I guess I'll bag-uette up for you..” 

No? No reaction..Damn, tough crowd.. 

He thanks you and you bid him farewell and to come back soon. You could’ve sworn he almost smiled… maybe that was a look of irritation..?

After he leaves eyesight, You make haste by sitting down behind the counter, face flushed with embarrassment and agony. It made you cringe. Why would you say that? Your coworker giggled at you, making sure to add salt to the wound, “You tried.. That’s all it matters.” she gives you a head pat and continues,  “He’s a regular here. He’s probably gonna come back in another couple of hours on his way home or something.”

“Then how come I’ve not seen him before?”

“Dunno.. He’s been away for a couple months now.” 

“What’s his name?”

“You should ask when he comes back.”

“Isn’t that weird?”

“Oh but asking some other random person, who doesn’t know him at all, by the way, isn’t weird?”

She has a point.

You looked down at your phone and idly texted your friend Nobara about your day and fashion related topics. 

You met when Nobara came down to the bakery to get some pastries for her boyfriend. You hit it off right away due to shared interests, albeit you being 7 years older. Nobara enjoyed having an older sister with an affinity for style, love for shopping, and interest in all the cool girl stuff that Maki wouldn’t normally talk to her about. 

Right now you two are discussing weekend plans. Nobara and her boyfriend Yuji, along with Megumi, and their teacher Gojo were going to a karaoke room cause it had been a while since Gojo had gone out with his students. He was stuck on oversea assignments for the past couple of weeks and he dearly misses them, or so he says. As always, you had been invited and of course you said yes! 

You are very fond of the kids and Gojo. The 3 of them reminded you of your siblings back home, and well- Gojo is Gojo. Plus, if you had declined, Gojo would pester you non-stop. 

-

After a mini rush, you sit  down, tired, ready to bite down into your sandwich, when on queue, the door swings open, revealing the tall blonde man, taking his glasses off as his eyes pierce you again. You wave at him and he just nods. You get a bag ready as the man collects another slice of the same cake he had bought earlier. He also got another dessert, this time, a small vanilla custard tart w/ fruits on top, made by yours truly. He comes up to the counter, and you stiffen up  in shyness, “Is this everything for you?”

The man looked tired, but he let out a soft, yet stern ‘yes.’

As you rang up his order you looked back up to him, your lips curling into a small grin, “How was work?” This caught them both off guard, “Oh- I didn’t- I didn’t mean to assume-” I mean.. Unless this guy enjoys walking around in a whole business suit for funsies.

He actually lets out a chuckle, “It’s okay. It was a busy day.” 

You both stayed silent for a second before he asked in return, “How was your day, miss?” This made you feel warm and your smile only got bigger, “It was wonderful! I got to serve a lot of customers. They bought their kids in. It was so fun.”

‘And cause you came into the shop twice.’

“Ah sorry.. I’m trailing. I didn’t mean to ramble- you must be dying to get home.”

‘No, I could get used to listening to you.’  is what he wanted to say;

Instead he lets out a relieved sigh, “It’s alright. I’m glad you had a good day today.” This caused your cheeks to tint red. Dying from embarrassment because you just knew that your coworkers were listening in, she redirects the topic, and points at the cake, “Do you like those?” He nods again, “They’re the best I’ve ever had. Compliment the baker for me.” Oh your heart, you could hear it beating so hard from your chest. 

You do a mental fist pump before clapping your hands with glee, “Oh I’m so glad you liked them!” You go around the counter and grab another slice just for him. You stared up at him in absolute awe, because behind the counter was elevated by at least a foot. 

This man was tall, as hell. 

He just looks down at you eyeing your move. You push the cake towards him even harder, “This one is on the house!” He tilts his head in question. You double down and nod your head, affirming the choice. He grabs hold of the cake with one hand, “Thank you. I appreciate that.”

‘Ask for her name Nanami’ He repeats to himself in his head

“What is your name?” She beats him to the punch. 

‘Have you lost your touch?’-- “Nanami”

“I really like your name. It’s beautiful! My name is Y/N.”

‘Y/N, huh.. What a nice name..’

You give him his bag as he recollects his thoughts, “It’s nice to meet you. I’ve got to get going. Work” You shoot him one last smile before waving him off, “Thank you for coming! It was nice to meet you! Don’t work too hard!”

An hour goes by and it's time for the bakery to close for the night. You turn the lights off as the ladies load up the delivery car with food that wasn’t sold for the day so they could give it to the local kitchens and homeless shelters. You bid your coworkers farewell before hopping into your car and collecting yourself, before driving home.

After you get home you jump into bed, eager to text Nobara. 

[Txt]  Y/N - “I met such a cute guy today!”

A second later there’s an audio msg from her of Gojo;

[Voice Recording] “Wahh?! Y/N I wasn’t there today!”  in a whiny bit.

You laugh as Nobara actually sends a text;

[Txt] Nobara - “Tell me all about it when you come to karaoke… matter of fact, he should come!”

But you just met.. How are you going to pull that off… and will he even want to go is the better question… what if he thinks you’re weird … oh lord… so many overthinking possibilities.. Ok but what if he actually says yes?

[Txt] Y/N- “Are you sure?”

[Txt] Nobara  - “Yeah! Gojo-sensei is paying anyway.”

[deathfavor]

“ I’d say you wound my feelings to not believe my words…but you don’t.” Seiroku answers, blue eyes holding nothing but amusement at the predicament. The moral dilemma. What blood price was he going to be willing to pay for a chance at fighting Seiroku? “ Although, I’ve been nothing but truthful as myself.” Using his spies however was different as far as he was concerned. 

  He gives a small shrug as acknowledgement, careful to not move his hands or the strings he controls lest it slaughter the caught bushi. Not yet at least. They’re more valuable alive in this moment.  “ I could. I could kill them both regardless of the answer. “ It’s a genuine possibility, though Seiroku gives no indication way or another on the matter of his truthfulness. “ But I might be telling the truth. And then you could get one group of them killed for no reason. I wonderful if that’ll haunt your consciousness?”  

   A disappointed tsk fills the air. “ Didn’t you figure it out from our little chat before? Well…Actually, you are a red soul and you all seem to love swinging swords more in a fight than listening. “ Seiroku muses contemplatively. Imari was also like that in the heat of battle. 

   “ I want to kill all bushi.” Seiroku’s voice was light and cheerful despite the morbid declaration of intentions he spoke of. “ Though that’s just my personal goal, not the Obsidian Eight’s as a whole. “  

Of course definitely him. He was the one that got the other soldiers into this mess. If he hadn't have been here they maybe the dog would have just ignored them and kept going towards the main fight. But no, for some reason he continued to draw the rather specific ire, couldn't say the feeling wasn't mutual.

There he hung, still in the air at the threat. The more people around, the more advantage over him Seiroku seemed to have. He could destroy threads around himself, but doing so without severely harming the others would be nearly impossible. He was having his own men, and his duty to them, used against him.

"Why should I believe a word you say?" Kanetatsu hissed. "Supposed I choose one, you could kill them anyways, or both. You don't seem like the type to play by rules. Even ones you yourself set. So there's no point in answering."

"Important?" A curious pang hit him. Knowing why the dogs did what they did didn't normally interest him. But for them to say something was more important than life and death... What could someone like him want? "What's so important that you would thoughtlessly kill over?" What did a man filled with so much vitriol and hate have to care about?

[dontforgetukraine]

"We were starving, and our parents started to swell from hunger. A death by starvation awaited us. But, luckily for us, one summer day, about a month before the ears of wheat reached milk ripeness, our uncle Mykhailo came from Kharkiv, bringing half a sack of wheat bread, a few kilograms of sugar, and butter. He came because, while trading near the bread shop with his companions, he saw how people, standing in kilometre-long queues for bread, fell and died, swollen from starvation. They were immediately picked up by special carts and taken out of the city somewhere to a ravine. Hearing our uncle lament that perhaps his brother and his family in the village were dying of hunger, his companions gave him a loaf of bread, some sugar, and butter each, and told him to go to the village to save his relatives from starvation. I remember our parents locking us in the house from the inside so that we wouldn’t go anywhere, and they went to work. They strictly ordered us not to open the door to strangers. …Someone approached the window and started knocking, saying, ‘It’s me, your uncle, open up! I’ve brought you some bread and something to go with it.’ We replied that our father and mother had ordered us not to open the house to anyone. Then he showed us a loaf of bread through the window. We were so hungry that we believed him and let him into the house, although we had never seen him before. Our uncle came in and cut us each a slice of bread, spread it with butter,sprinkled it with sugar, and gave us to eat. He then hid the remaining bread from the sack in a chest and locked it. Later, the uncle, taking two pieces of bread with butter and sugar with him, went to find our parents at work, and told us to lock the door. When Uncle Mykhailo went to our parents’ work, he found them unconscious from the hard labour and hunger… Returning home, our uncle gave our parents his priceless gift and then went back to Kharkiv. Before leaving, he told us how, while coming to us with bread, he was pursued by hungry men with wild eyes, whom he managed to stop only after threatening them with a knife. But that wasn’t enough, and they left him in peace only when he gave them a loaf of bread. That bread, brought by Uncle Mykhailo from Kharkiv, saved us from starving to death.”

—Excerpt from the memoirs of Petro Ivanovych Pashchenko, born in 1928, from the village of Shelestove, Kharkiv region.

Source: Holodomor Museum

[lesvegas]

After this post came out of the queue I couldn't stop thinking about the sandwich and how if one made a normal portion of it it might actually be good. So I did that.

I didn't want to use up my good/'real' bacon so I used spam bacon instead, sliced thin and pan fried. I toasted the sliced white bread at the lightest setting to warm it. I only had regular peanut butter and strawberry jam.

I know this sounds dramatic but I really can't understate how wrong it felt to put this sandwich together. It felt like an affront to God. But then I just wordlessly ate it, leaning over my counter while on a call with my partner who awaited my reaction, and did not stop to speak until I was on the last bite. I was baffled the entire time. My mind couldn't comprehend the way the flavours came together. Somehow it was perfectly salty, sweet and savory in a way that worked, with no flavour overpowering the others.

It was good.

I can't fucking believe it either.

[evilovesyou]

Can i ask what / how was it poorly organised? Sorry it left you feeling like that :/

I hope you know what you’ve gotten yourself into 😂

It started with just how to get into the venue… google maps told us it was a 20 minute walk but the entrance was so hard to find, with no signs or anybody pointing you in the right direction, that it took us at least 45 min.

We got there after the initial queues had passed, but still fairly early. (The second act was playing when we entered the grounds.)

There were 2 food trucks for (depending on the source) 20-30k people. Two trucks. And two bars that sold only soft drinks and beer. You could buy water at specific places just for that. One merch stand. 12 hammocks that they labeled “chill out area”.

They had talked about having vegan food options etc, but when we arrived there were already several things that were crossed off the menu. We stood in line for 45 min to get some food and when my girlfriend asked if they had anything vegetarian they offered her “onions, some peppers and lettuce in some bread.”

There was a separate line for fries, but the fries were sold at a drinks station so they just told us to cross over and get them since we’d already been in line for almost an hour at that point. Then somebody yelled at us for cutting the line lol

I got a chicken “sandwich” that was literally just a piece of fried chicken and two dry pieces of bread. No condiments, no lettuce, not even a slice of tomato.

So we paid €20 for some watermelon, fries, and a “chicken sandwich” that was so bad I almost cried.

There were a total of 2 trash bins on site I think and they were buried under mounds of rubbish so I’m not sure if there were actual bins or if people just decided for a communal spot.

As far as I know they were pretty good about handing out water and such in the afternoon, though the “free water” they advertised outside of the crowd at the stage wasn’t marked and pretty hard to find.

Before the show started, during “DJ” Carl Baracat or whatever his name was (he literally played the wildest mix of a playlist I’ve ever heard in my life. No mixing or anything. It was weird.)… I realised the heat was getting to me and I was feeling very thirsty so I asked for water from security and they told us they weren’t handing out any water until Louis got on stage. Essentially the message was “I’ll wait until you faint, even though you have time to access your needs right now and you won’t be able to once the main reason you’re all here is on stage”. I did get water half an hour later, during the second song or so.

After Louis’ set it was pretty quick to clear out and we were lucky enough to stay directly in Camaoire but @chaotic-bells has a story to tell about transport back to other towns nearby I think…

Maybe it comes from having worked in event management before, maybe it’s just my general virgo-ness and personality, but there were so many things that would’ve been so easy to solve on part of the venue and security and the organisers that I was just genuinely appalled at the lack of care.

So… I love Louis. I’m glad I was there for this and I got to see my friends. I’m glad I got to see the Blossoms live! They were awesome. The people were genuinely really nice! Louis was amazing as always. We got to hear Paradise and I know @fadeintolight lost her mind about that 😅 I got to hang out with @chickenstuffedwithmozzarella for the first time and it was awesome 🥰

I got to be at the beach with my girlfriend before the festival and then kiss her surrounded by lights. We got to leave our gay message for Louis. All is well in the end.

[ne-hny-patyk]

On 23.02.2022 we just finished our projects for the handcrafts class, so I decided to spend the time learning by heart "A Dream" by Taras Shevchenko that I needed to know for the 25th.

Світає. Край неба палає.

Соловейко в темнім гаї сонце зустрічає.

It was kinda prophetic. The next day I woke up from a loud explosion. It was in Chernihiv, 40 km away. Can't imagine how loud it was for my friend from there, who sent me a message saying "Wake up, sunshine, the war has started".

My parents had already woken up and turned on the TV to see what was happening. My dad ran to his job because he had to make sure where everyone is and that they all know to stay home (there was a person trying to get to us from Chernihiv. Who knows if he'd survive, this road was under heavy fire).

But it was already late to run away. We could either go to Chernihiv, which was under constant fire, or drive through the Zhytomyrska trasa, which was also a death sentence at that time.

So it began. A month of blockade. Constant queues for whatever food could get in. My aunt was able to buy some crackers and almonds at the start, and for all this time it was the stuff I ate to distract myself from hunger. I binge read books so that I could distract myself from the news. I think I'll never be able to eat plain cottage cheese again, because milk was the only thing we were able to get from nearby villages. And I was never so happy to eat bread after eating small slices of bread that tasted like rubber and sand.

Air raids made us go to the basement all the time, even at night. These were the first times I've seen the sunrise and heard nightingales, and they've always reminded me of that poem from a different life. If only the sky wasn't looking like a web from the white lines that aircraft left behind them when flying to destroy Chernihiv.

[call-me-maggie13]

Beatrice spins the spatula in her hand absentmindedly, humming quietly to herself as she watches the eggs sizzle and fry in the pan. The coffee pot burbles and splashes as it kicks on behind her, filling the kitchen with the dark, bitter aroma of Ava’s favorite coffee.

Diana chatters to herself somewhere deeper in the flat, giggling while she plinks a random tune out on her keyboard. Beatrice isn’t certain where Ava is as she slides the eggs onto a plate, adding a handful of shredded cheese and some fresh blueberries and sliced strawberries before calling out for Diana. She receives a disgruntled keyboard smash in response, Diana quickly resuming her assault on the plastic keyboard keys.

Beatrice sighs fondly and shakes her head, cracking another egg into the pan.

"Hey," Ava murmurs as she curls into Beatrice’s back, arms winding around her waist and chin tucking over her shoulder, wet hair dripping onto Beatrice’s back.

"Good morning," Beatrice turns and presses a kiss against Ava’s temple.

"Is she boycotting food again?" Ava jokes, poking Diana’s untouched plate.

"Mmm… I think she’s too busy practicing The Four Seasons in E Major to be boycotting her food again. Maybe we need to queue up some Tchaikovsky or even Vivaldi before we consider replenishing her gremlin energy," Beatrice jokes, grinning and leaning into Ava’s touch.

"Replenishing her gremlin energy? Her gremlin is a infinite resource, she doesn’t need help replenishing it."

The piano stops, Beatrice slides the fresh eggs onto a new plate, dropping bread into the toaster and turning to wait for Diana to peek in through the door. The little girl giggles and grins when she finds Beatrice already looking at her, slinking through the door and pushing onto her toes to try to peer at her plate.

"Cheese?" Diana asks, pointing at the plate — she hasn’t mastered the ch sound yet so the word sounds more like she’s — Ava confirms the presence of cheese on Diana’s plate and even lowers it for Diana to inspect. Diana takes a single shred of cheese, pops it into her mouth, squeals, then dances away.

Beatrice laughs and shakes her head, turning in Ava’s arms and tugging her into her chest.

"See? Infinite gremlin," Ava murmurs against Beatrice’s chest, squeezing her waist. "She survives off a single piece of cheese and chaos."

Find more here!

[cafeleningrad]

🍽️ 🍔🥧🍦🍳🍩 🧑‍🍳 🍿(I'm hungry)

You know what? Today was a day of indulging into some delicious treats, and there was a cooking advice post in my queue! Let the food questions come in! And thank you for joining the game. （＾∀＾●）ﾉｼ

🍽️ Are you craving any particular food right now? Not at the moment, yet a restaurant I really like is currently very creative with their pasta dishes, and I can't wait to treat myself with them after mock exams. 🍔 What's your ideal burger? After the absolute gourmet feast @bigre-fichtre presented, it's hard to come up with anything equally delicious. But let's try: Lye bread bun, medium rare beef patty spiced with minimally with caraway and red pepper, Gorgonzola sauce, fried mushrooms (either button mushroom or chanterelle) mixed with finely sliced springonions, and crispy bacon stripes.

🥧 Favourite pie? Savoury: Hare pie, with mushrooms if possible, with golden crust. Sweet: Lemon pie, Italian Chestnut cream pie

🍦 Top picks for a 3 scoop ice cream cone? Alright, please note that I pass at least 3 ice cream shops from my way from work to home. If I'd take a detour I'd pass 6. All of them are either in hands of Italian ice cream makers or ambitious hipster cooks. Hence, this answer is poisoned with spoiled rotten, pretentious city citizen pretentiousness: Raspberry, Pistachio, Early Grey.

🍳 What do you like to do for breakfast? On work days: Usually something I prepared before hand, and can easily be reheated like porridge, misosoup, or spiced fruit salad. If I've time, Shakshuka or Bánh Tráng Nướng (the latter I highly recommend as it's quick, easy, and tasty!) On free days (would love to have one of those someday...): Usually something egg based like scrambled eggs, or if I'm feeling fancy: Pancakes. My partner has some remarkably peculiar cooking skills which do include a perfect poached egg and omurice.

🍩 Hottest food to see somebody else eat? Well, my Vietnamese colleague once poured Sriracha over his Buldak-instant soup, so...

🧑‍🍳 Do you have a food or cooking (or eating) tip for us?

Not much of a secret but some savoury dishes sincerely flourish from sweet pinches: Add a pinch of cinnamon in your meat, no sugar, to you meat to give it a more tender aroma. A teaspoon of sugar or honey in your tomatoe sauce sooth the sour aspects of the tomatoes.

Oh, and if you've any vegetables containing a lost of water, let them leak first. Cut them, put them aside at a safe spot (board, plate, bowl, anything goes), add a pinch of salt, stir them a bit, so they can leak excess water. It helps to prevent certain dishes to become runny or soggy.

🍿 Best movie snack? In cinema: Could do without, although during action movies (sweet) popcorn is nice. At the home screen: Chickenwings (with mint dip), or pizza. ;)

[franklycharmed]

Location: Main Kitchen

Date: Midnight | September 8, 2005

Closed starter for @themickey

Thirty years old and it still felt naughty to be alone in the kitchen past ten, but maybe that was because everything was still where it always had been, a living memorial to the past.

Frankie crept in barefoot, the susurration of beading on her dress hinting that she was there in the dark. She felt for the light switch without needing to see it, knew the tinny kitchen radio would be perched on the window sill ready to be tuned to 106.7 Lite FM at a low volume. The bread was in the pantry, cheese was on the third shelf of the fridge, butter on the left side door. Pots were stored under the large marble island in the middle of the kitchen, but the stainless steel pans, perfect for a late-night grilled cheese, were hung above the stoves.

She went through the familiar motions, preparing the bread and resting both slices to toast on the stove-top (with four slices of cheese, because why do less when you could do more?) Delilah queueing up late-night Macy Gray kept her company as the smell of melting butter filled the air.

Above the sizzling pan, the sound of footsteps. "I'm going to do the dishes!" Frankie shouted, a preemptive defense, turning sharply, prepared to see Mrs. Tristan looming.

Except, instead of a lecture, company. "Oh, Mick." Frankie nodded toward the stove. "Do you want one?"

[writingsofwesteros]

https://www.tumblr.com/writingsofwesteros/756246296983142400/httpswwwtumblrcomwritingsofwesteros756245638?source=share

Aemond brings their plates. Filled with the healthiest food available. Helly manages to beg with her puppy eyes to get them dessert icecream and cupcakes.

Stev offers to go queue for his food and fill his plate knowing he hates the lines. Aegon and Bestie snorting in synk. "You think he's gonna let you queue while pregnant?"

You also know Nora keeps sneaking the desserts and bread to The pregnant ladies while aemond is in line

Bread and the most deliciousness of butter that Helaena may have become obsessed with.

Aegon stuffing a third slice of pizza into his mouth

[androphagos]

Exclusive content only available with tier subscription on DeviantArt (from 1st week).

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Ready to serve

Who doesn't love a freshly roasted torso carved into thin slices and served on bread or in a wrap like a kebab?

Well... this chef from Armenia has made this his full time job. He always roasts men in their 20s with excellent physique, and then places their cooked bodies vertically on display, as people queue up to buy a wrap or sandwich with thinly sliced carved meat.

This man was a soldier, who lost a leg in a battle. His girlfriend broke up with him, his family was fed up with taking after him, so they decided to just sell his body to be used for another purpose.

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Traditional wedding soup

At a traditional wedding in Crete you will always be served a bowl or two of gamopilafo (wedding soup). The soup is made exclusively out of the broth of men who are boiled alive in large cooking pots. The soup includes rice, lemon juice, olive oil, onions and of course chunks of tender meat of men.

The traditional way to do the soup is to surprise the "chosen" man or men, by restraining them on the spot. The men of the groom's family will make sure the chosen man is stripped naked and prepared in less than an hour from the time they arrive at the wedding, so that once all the guests arrive, the chefs can put on a show.

The choice is usually made by the couple themselves. At this wedding, the bride's twin brothers were chosen. The family had no objection to this, as they were both causing trouble for many years. They were just 21 years old, and they had already been arrested for petty crimes more than 5 times each...

(more at deviant art)

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Fresh (alive) Meat on Display

I love it when I go on holidays, and the taverns and restaurants put their glass display cases out in the streets to show what (or who) is on the menu. My girlfriend likes getting closer and examining the poor men, sometimes even joking in their face about them being cooked.

This dude saw us laughing at him and my girlfriend was rubbing her belly and licking her lips. He got so embarrassed, he started crying. In the end we decided to just continue our stroll through the town until we get hungry.

When we came back an hour later, he was still in the display case, but this time he was just reduced to pieces of meat. His cute severed head was there, next to some of his ribs, a thigh, a shoulder and an arm.

If his feet had not been served to others already, I would have definitely have them for dinner. But oh well, we just looked elsewhere around the town, which was full of displays filled with guys like him ready to meet their fate.

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Memories from past Easters 3

Have you ever been at a Greek Easter feast? For me it's been a yearly goal to find a welcoming family or friend to experience and enjoy the abundance of spit roasted and grilled male meat. This was one of the first ones I've been to 10 years ago. I was a teenager back then

I will never forget this lovely man who was more than willing to offer me his son's foot and head on a tray like that. He saw me drooling over the feet and head throughout the day, so he decided to just gift them to me. The son was 25 (my age now), and I had only seen him when he was already prepared and seasoned on the spit. A butcher had delivered him for the party, and the men of the family carried him over the fire...

(more at deviant art)

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Don't forget to toss the meat halfway through

For better roast results it's suggested to toss the man over on the tray halfway through cooking. And while you are at it, make sure you make a few cuts on the flesh before adding more sauce and seasoning. You'll want the meat of those buns to absorb as much flavour as possible, while the skin becomes crispy.

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Mocking the meat

Imagine losing your head and being made fun of for crying...

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Post-decapitation selfie

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Failed Balkan model roasted and sold on the street

He thought a modelling career would save him from being sold as meat. Unfortunately he failed badly in this direction and couldn't even sustain his own life properly. It seems like good looks are not always enough to guarantee a man's survival in this world. His appearance ended up being more of a curse than a blessing.

Out of desperation he signed a deal with an agency that was actively involved in the male meat industry. He's been in adverts for male meat farms, restaurants and supermarkets, always posing as meat in various photoshoots. It paid well and he was okay with it, as it was just a few hours of roleplaying as meat in front of a camera.

But for his last photoshoot, he was required to play something a bit more than a simple role... Maybe he should have been more careful when reading the contract and the script of the photoshoot before he agreed. It was clearly mentioned that it would involve spit roasting, but his naivety led him to believe it would simply involve being tied temporarily on a spit with rope.

... (more at deviant art)

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Fresh college meatFresh college meat

The best college in the country found a way to sufficiently fund itself by selling a proportion of 10% of their male students as meat. The lowest performing 10% of young men at this college, ends up becoming meat which later gets sold at markets, restaurants and school cafeterias.

The amount of extra funding coming from this practice, has allowed the college to reach the top of the rankings, with the most pioneering programs, best facilities and research opportunities. The prestige of having a diploma from this specific college, is what leads young men to enrol there anyway, hoping that they won't end up in the bottom 10%. You can imagine how competitive it can get for the male students. It's no surprise that the successful male graduates of this college are all employed in high positions right after college.

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No man cheats on his daughter!

A father would never let his daughter be cheated on and heartbroken by a man without any consequences. Bill found out the hard way, when his in-laws abducted him and prepared him for their daughter's birthday. They made sure he was washed, shaved, cleaned up, marinated, trussed up and roasted alive, all before their daughter had arrived at the surprise party. They wanted the meat to be ready for her to dive in. Revenge is sweet and it's best served HOT.

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Memories from past Easters 4

Some restaurants in Greece choose to spit roast imported meat from abroad on Easter Sunday. Many locals love tasting exotic flavours too on this special day. Also some businesses and individuals see this method as one less complication when it comes to dealing with the meat, as meat is usually unable to communicate in the language, causing less trouble and making the process much more straight forward.

This man was imported from neighbouring Turkey, where the male meat industry is thriving, and the two countries have established an unprecedented trade and cooperation between them, with thousands of men being exported as meat annually from one country to the other.

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Cooking class

Yesterday I joined this cooking class/workshop, where I was shown how to roast a whole man in an electric oven. The organisers provided the man, and all the participants contributed towards his preparation. The meat himself was very upset about it, as he would turn 36 next year, meaning he would have been a free man forever after that. But maybe he was just too tasty-looking to allow him to become a free man. His wife was there too as one of the participants, and she was glad she managed to sort this out in time. She wouldn't be able to live her whole life with regrets for not eating him when she had the chance.

The class took around half a day, because apart from preparing him and shoving him in the glass oven, we had to wait 4-5 hours for him to finish cooking. The price included unlimited drinks, snacks, and of course a piece of our own creation once he was fully cooked. If you can ever join such a class, it is absolutely worth it.

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That's what I call a centrepiece!

Every time I get invited to a dinner party at friends' or relatives' house, I make sure to double check and guarantee that they've got the meat already sorted, just to be safe. I usually ask them to send me a receipt of purchase or a picture/video of the man. Even when it's people I trust and respect, I still wouldn't wanna risk ending up butchered and cooked randomly just because I wasn't careful enough.

This guy in the picture was obviously NOT doing that. His step-mom's parents invited him over for dinner, and he ended up becoming the dinner for the whole family. How do I know that? Well, I was there myself and I took this picture of his delicious feet and cute head once it was served on a platter in the middle of the table. The rest of his body was stuffed and oven-roasted, like a trussed-up turkey. They used his fresh raw feet and head as the centrepiece, which was dominating our view while we were waiting for his roasted body to be served.

Unfortunately the family was not interested in offering or selling us his feet or his head, as they had other plans for those cuts for the weekend. Oh well, after all it was their meat, their choice... Glad I was able to at least take this picture of this delicious specimen.

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When in Argentina...

When in Argentina, do as the locals do... Find an asado where they roast men alive, and enjoy the whole experience. When I was there for a week I went to an asado every single day. And this was one of my favourites, cause this dude just tasted like HEAVEN. If you are wondering where his legs had gone by the time this photo was taken, let me just tell you I had just devoured a whole calve and foot of his with my girlfriend, and the rest of the lower body was already reduced to bones in people's plates. We rushed back for more cuts before all of him was gone. I'll never forget how good his meat tasted. 10/10

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Passing down family secrets to the next generation

My friend Mark knows how much I love feet. His dad is a podiatrist-turn-chef, so you can imagine how well he knows the foot anatomy and how easy it is for him to spot the best pair for each occasion.

In this photo he was showing us what to look for on a foot when we want to buy some from a butcher's or a market. He pointed out that the toe-nails can tell more about the meat than we can imagine. And the toes themselves can demonstrate how meaty or tender a foot can be. The flat soles are great for grilling, and higher-arches are perfect for roasting. Also hairy feet show that the man had good blood circulation. Smell can also indicate specific qualities, and different foot smell intensities can really make a difference in the final result of a dish.

He also bought this delicious foot himself from his favourite butcher shop. The previous owner of the feet was an old patient of his when he had the podiatry clinic. Mark's dad remembered how he was drooling over this pair of feet back then, and he was glad to see that the young man had looked after his feet for all those years.

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Crispiest crackling

This dude was presented in the online menu of this restaurant as the roast of the day. When I saw his pictures and videos from his preparation in the man farm, I knew I had to book a table. This place roasts their meats to perfection. I need to find out their secret for that perfectly crispy skin crackling... and the meat under that heavenly crisp is always tender, juicy and full of flavour. The feet and hands are sometimes too crispy for my taste though, I would personally remove those parts and cook them a different way. But as this restaurant only specialises in whole roasts, they want their men to enter and exit the oven without any prior adjustment to their bodies, apart from, of course, shaving them and cleaning them.