#ultimate toasted cheese
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Croque Madame
Croque Madame
IngredientsBechamel Sauce125 ml full cream milk125 ml fresh cream30g unsalted butter30 g cake flour1/4 tsp salt1/4 tsp black pepper, ground1/4 tsp nutmeg, ground
Sandwich8 slices crusty bread such as ciabatta200g Emanthler cheese150g smoked gypsy ham30 g Dijon mustard4 large eggs, fried sunny side up
MethodBechamel SauceIn a small saucepan add the milk and cream over medium heat.…
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#authentic#ciabatta#Croque madame#Croque Monsieur#delicious#easy#food#French cuisine#French sandwiches#fresh#fried egg#ham sando#ham sandwiches#ham sarmie#homemade#simple#sourdough bread#south African#ultimate toasted cheese
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I feel like I've been eating better the past couple of days
#probably because the night before that i ate something which ultimately did not agree with my gut lmao#but really since the introduction of greek yoghurt i feel healthier or something idk lol#if i feel snacky i go for brown soda bread toast or greek yoghurt#i still have too much chocolate lol#I've also been eating way more salads recently and i feel better about it#i decided to eat recently and i had brown bread toast greek yoghurt and some Gruyère cheese#it was LOVELY#roacc#food
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Edible Book Day 2024
the appetizers
A Commonplace Snack by Daemonluna
A collection of tropes and other ephemera, rendered in nori and rice paper. Sewn with a glass sweet potato noodle, ornamented with cilantro and lime.
This is how we roll (bamboo slips) by anonymous
This is the first book I have made since joining Renegade. I didn't think I'd get to make books and eat them too.
The (Not Actually) Matzah Plague Board Book by Noodle and Noodle's Auntie
10 Plagues by Noodle and Noodle's Auntie. Illustration by Noodle and Noodle's Auntie. Writing and Binding by Noodle. Materials: Gluten Free Matzo Substitute, fruit roll ups, fruit by the foot, sour belts, licorice, fruit rolls, sour sticks, cumin, water.
a fluffy breaduation by Sandy Kitty Bindery
i do not regret anything... except maybe the dentist bills ;)
Pancake Scroll by Zhalfirin
This was a lot easier than I had anticipated. A bit bland because I wasn't sure what I'd do the painting with and therefore didn't season the batter. It goes really well with a side of salmon and soy sauce though.
the mains
the iron chef secret ingredient was lasers
by Lark
lasers are friends not food.
6/10, at least I chose turkey this year.
The Count of Monte Cristo
by Thunder (Dragon's Thunder Press)
This was my first book bind ever. The case is French toast. The 2 signatures are each made of 3 omelet folios, and they're sewn with mozzarella string cheese strands. The end pages are each a slice of prosciutto, and they're pasted in with raspberry fruit syrup. Finally, the titling was done with black icing.
Sandwiches (And Books) Are Beautiful by Velvetwastaken
The ‘book’ ultimately failed to be readable as such due to a betrayal by the onion binding. But it tasted amazing, and thus I think still encapsulated the spirit of edible book day: good books are meant to be devoured.
and of course…
… the desserts!
Mistakes were Marbled by anonymous
I baked a strawberry cake with buttercream icing. The buttercream set a bit too quickly for the marbled effect to work, and attempts to fix it caused structural damage, resulting in ... this. I would like half-points for retaining good flavor, despite appearances.
Brandy Snaps by Lottie
Brandy snaps for the pages, strawberry laces for thread. Complete with two weaver’s knots to tie the strawberry laces together
Book Cookies by six
Sadly not fully functional books - the cases are rigid sugar cookies baked into various open forms. The pages are edible wafer paper marked up here and there w/ an edible ink pen and the frosting quite tasty! Experimented with two different sizes and various page configurations. Fed some of them to various Renegade members. There were no fatalities.
Titles are overrated by Zhalfirin
I'm still baffled this turned out the way it did.
It's a delicious little baumkuchen chonker (app. A6 in size and about 6cm thick) cased in chocolate powdered marzipan.
Don't forget to vote for your favorite! And check out last year's winners here.
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Break Me Down - Part 6
Pairing: Soldier Boy/Ben x Female Reader
Summary: You’re a private investigator by trade, but now you happily sit at a desk — leading a surveillance team at Supe Affairs. After managing to end Homelander in New York, Soldier Boy escapes custody. You are recruited for the manhunt, joining Butcher’s team.
Truly, you joined the S.A. for the right reasons. But after you become his accidental hostage, Soldier Boy will break down every single one of them…
💚 Break Me Down Masterlist
AN: This chapter is a heavy one, but ultimately shifts her relationship with Ben…
Word Count: 6,700
Trigger Warnings: (18+ only.) Attempted sexual assault, violence, mentions of domestic violence, torture, and past trauma. Angst, hurt/comfort, fluff.
Part 6: A Hot Meal
Frank informed you the next morning that Simone, the new chef, had to call in sick. Apparently she’d slipped a disk in her back after yesterday’s festivities.
Poor thing. You wished her a safe recovery, and an STD panel.
But that left you and a handful of hungry men gathered in the kitchen like stray cats.
Soldier Boy’s crew was a mere few. Some were former military, all were gruff, grisly-looking guys.
Frank was their leader, stocky and stoic, and an ex-Marine from the Dominican Republic. Followed closely by Saul, who was a taller blonde from Idaho, and ex-Navy.
Then there was Lorenzo, appropriately nicknamed “Loco,” who reminded you the most of Frenchie. Loco was Colombian, lean, and covered in tattoos, but generally the most laid back and always cracking jokes (dirty or otherwise).
You’d learned that he’d been in the same unit as Frank. And he was the one who took the second shift on watching you in the beginning of your imprisonment.
And finally, there was asshole Tony, the only true local. But you didn’t hold that against the rest of Colombia.
He at least was still sleeping after an all-night job, according to Frank.
You assumed Ben was still in bed as well, because he hadn’t yet graced you all with his presence.
The rest of them were staring into either the fridge or the pantry, trying to work out breakfast.
“I could whip up some eggs,” Loco said.
“You mean those rubbery shits you made yesterday?” Saul quipped. Loco frowned, but shrugged in admission.
“We’ve got cereal,” Frank pointed out.
“Cinnamon Toast Crunch?” Loco asked hopefully.
“Raisin Bran.”
“Maldito hijueputa. I can’t live like this.”
You watched them fumble around like they’d never seen the contents of a fridge before, shaking your head in disbelief. Were all men really this helpless?
You sighed and stood up from your stool at the breakfast bar.
“All right, guys. Step aside,” you said. “My powers are limited, but I can attempt an omelet of some kind.”
Frank discreetly let out a relieved breath, while Loco made fervent Catholic blessings to the Virgin Mary. Saul seemed to be reserving his judgment until he tasted said meal.
You smiled and took out two cartons of eggs, some evaporated milk, onions, garlic, ham and cheese, and some fresh spinach you found in the vegetable drawer. Then you rooted through the pantry and found the seasonings you needed, like sea salt, pepper, and oregano.
Yvette taught you this recipe, and it was one you’d been successful with before. So it stood to reason that you could do it again.
Within half an hour, you were serving sections of two massive omelets to each man (seriously, it might as well have been a quiche), with a generous portion for yourself. Though you still saved a large piece for Ben…and yes, even Tony.
Loco took a huge bite and moaned. Saul frowned in disgust and shot a fist into his shoulder.
“Shut the fuck up, man,” he reproached.
“But it’s hella good,” Loco said, rubbing his shoulder. He offered you two thumbs up and a wide smile. “Gracias, corazón.”
“You’re very welcome,” you said with a laugh, and fought hard not to blush in embarrassment. Frank gave you a rare, conspiring smile.
Who would’ve thought a hot meal could make you friends among criminals?
“Even Saul’s got nothing to complain about,” Frank remarked, noting the other man’s silence in his thoughtful chewing. Until Loco teasingly prodded him in the side with a fork.
Saul made a sound of irritation around a mouthful of food and fended him off with a warning look (and a threatening butterknife).
Loco tsked. “You have to untighten your asshole, my friend. You will give yourself a hemorrhoid.”
“You are my hemorrhoid,” Saul snapped.
You stifled a giggle.
Frank wore a deadpan look, but amusement still glinted in his eyes.
“He’s just mad because Loco put peanut butter in his gun last night,” Frank told you in a lowered voice. But Saul still heard it, because his frown deepened while Loco’s grin edged into a smirk.
“You know how hard it is to unjam that shit out of the slide?” Saul said. “Even the safety’s clamming up now.”
“Shit, I should’a put jam too!” Loco said. “PB&J in a barrel, no?”
Saul punched his shoulder again in the same spot as before. Loco made a pained sound, but took the abuse with a good-natured smirk.
“Very mature,” you laughed quietly.
“Fucking children,” Frank agreed, with a sip of his coffee. But something told you that he was fond of these assholes.
And that’s how Ben found you all.
He stood in the doorway with his arms crossed, for a moment just watching his crew eating, joking, laughing—with you at the center of it all.
He’d been standing here long enough without them noticing that he was actually getting annoyed, until Frank finally looked over and straightened a bit.
“Sir,” he said. All eyes in the room went to Ben, who raised a brow and strolled in with a casual, lazy gait. He nodded at his men, who all greeted him back with respect.
He noted you tightening up too, your expression turning more careful as you lowered your eyes and continued eating.
There was something about it that annoyed him. But he ignored that for now, in favor of heading over to the pan on the stove.
“Your plate is over here,” you mentioned, sliding over his breakfast. “Coffee’s still hot in the carafe.”
Ben flashed you a sly smile. “All right, sweetheart. Why don’t you get me a cup?”
He knew you’d frown, just like that, with annoyance glinting in your eyes. Try as you might, you couldn’t hide it all the time—your stubbornness. You were mouthy too, with an answer for fucking everything.
But when he took the proffered plate and tried the eggs, he raised his brows in pleasant surprise.
“Okay. So you can cook,” he said. “Good to know.”
You raised a brow at that, but you handed him a mug of black coffee. He took a sip and made a face of disgust.
“Jesus, could at least put some sugar in there.” He passed it back to you. “Fix that for me, would ya?”
Your brow twitched again, but you took the mug wordlessly. Saul got up from his seat at the bar and washed his plate in the sink himself before he left, followed by Loco, who thanked you one more time before he followed Saul’s lead.
You gave Ben his coffee while you started putting the leftovers away and soaking the pan in the sink. When Ben next took a sip, he coughed as his tongue was assaulted by sweetness. He shot you an irritated look.
“What the fuck is this?” he snapped.
You looked over at him with widening eyes. “Oh, I’m sorry. Too sweet?”
Your face was all innocence, but he was starting to figure you out. He caught a gleam of satisfaction in your eyes. His lips twitched, not sure if they wanted to smirk in amusement or frown in annoyance at your audacity.
Ben glanced over at Frank, who stood near you with an empty plate. Clearing his throat, Frank set his plate in the sink and also washed it himself.
Ben dumped his coffee there and gave Frank a look—one that said to fuck off.
His subordinate actually hesitated, making Ben’s frown deepen. But the man eventually left you and Ben alone while you finished up the dishes and Ben ate his breakfast. He didn’t mind complimenting the chef.
“You surprise me, sweetheart. Now, if you start cooking more often than you eat up the pantry, I may need to keep you around,” he remarked teasingly. And he dumped his plate into the sink while you were busy washing the large pans you’d used.
It was meant to be a joke. He’d said worse things to you before and you’d volleyed back playfully, or at worst case, brushed it off. So the way your head whipped towards him with a glare managed to take him by surprise.
“Maybe if you put as much energy into feeding yourself as you do into fucking your way through South America, you wouldn’t be such a helpless asshole,” you said.
It changed the air in the room, making it tense as Ben raised his brows at you. He straightened to his full height and approached where you stood at the kitchen sink.
“Care to fucking rephrase that?” he asked.
Did this bitch really just call him helpless?
You had one hand on the counter, maybe to steady yourself. Your chin took on a defiant tilt as you stared up at him and crossed your arms.
“At least your team has the decency to say thank you,” you snapped. “You can’t even be bothered. What are we, your fucking slaves? Should the whole fucking world bow to suck your wrinkly dick?”
Your vitriol somewhat put him on his heels. He stared at you, incredulous.
“I knew that doe-eyed Mary routine was a fucking show,” Ben growled. “Behold the salty cunt underneath. When yesterday, I know for a fact you were contemplating sucking on my cock like the fucking slut you are.”
Your expression became enraged. You aimed to slap him, with even your nails poised to scratch at his eyes, but he knew the attempt would hurt you far more than it’d hurt him. He grabbed your wrist and threw it away from him.
You huffed, irate beyond belief, and tried to walk away from him before you said anything else you’d regret.
But Ben’s hand closed on your arm again and whipped you around. You saw the anger in his eyes, the effort he was making to hold himself back. You both knew that with just a fraction of strength, he could crush you. He could end the game.
You were angry enough right now that you didn’t care.
“Do it,” you challenged. “Bat me around until I act right. You supes call yourselves heroes, but I don’t see anything noble about you.”
Instead of your arm, Ben gripped the counter next to you as his nostrils flared. His fingers bit into the tiles, cracking through them and making you flinch.
“Go to your fucking room,” he ordered. “Before I take you up on that offer.”
Before he loses his shit, you interpreted.
Your sister’s words again managed to cut through the red of your temper.
Protect yourself.
You hesitated, trying to slow your breath. Then, you lowered your eyes. And you scurried back to your room.
You only released your tears when you were blessedly alone.
Meanwhile, Ben was fucking fuming. He took it out on a potted plant, smashing it on the kitchen counter. He watched the fractals of clay spin off like bobble tops and the soil scatter across tile and in the sink.
All the while, he refused to actually acknowledge how your words had affected him—other than infuriating him.
You were stubborn, with a smart goddamn mouth. You clearly hated him, and not just because you tried to help Butcher put him back to sleep.
But he’d been spotting hints of attraction behind your blushes, whenever he teased you. He was mollified, slightly, with the knowledge that your body was interested, even if your mind was having a hard time being persuaded.
Ben could work with that.
But another part of him wondered…what the fuck was it about this girl?
Why does it matter if she’s fucking into me or not? What the fuck do I care? He certainly wasn’t wanting for pussy.
He should’ve gotten rid of you a long time ago. In fact, he should’ve shipped you back to Butcher, better yet, with a bullet through your skull so his band of morons would get the message…
But there was something about you. He’d known it from the moment he saw you in that club. When you broke dumbass Tony’s foot with that lethal goddamn heel, wearing black leather and a sexy gleam of confidence in your eyes as you walked away.
To continue your hunt for Soldier Boy.
If Ben was honest with himself, (and he wasn’t), you had a fire he just didn’t want to dim.
You were avoiding him. That was obvious. And maybe Ben was avoiding you too, a bit.
He whittled away the next couple of days with lines of coke, weed, and booze, among other things. Still, none of it managed to dull his mind enough to get a full night’s sleep. Because every time he closed his eyes, he dreamed of being in a metal coffin, unable to pry his eyelids open.
Most of it was flashes of memory mixed with nightmares. Of being frozen and defrosted, his head held underwater just to see how long he could go without breathing.
Being electrocuted on every surface of his skin to see which parts of him were more sensitive than others, less or more durable. What affected him more, bullets or acid, electricity or burning.
Then the serums that lit his blood on fire, making him feel like his bones were liquifying from the inside out…
Ben would wake in his large bed, covered in sweat. And it took a hell of a lot to even make him dewy.
The problem was, this was happening more often. Thanks to his abilities though, he was able to function on less sleep than most people anyway.
At night, sometimes he walked through the dark and empty halls of this huge fucking mansion that felt empty as shit, even when he crossed one of his men.
Sometimes, he wondered what it was all for—the long years of his life. Sometimes he wondered why he was still here, with no team, no family, no fame, and no real fucking life.
In the morning, after he cleared through the brain fog of post-drugging, Ben wandered downstairs and slurped down a mug of coffee.
Simone was back, and she dutifully put together a frittata for him. Really, he was craving some plainer eggs and bacon, but this would do, he guessed.
After he finished eating, he wasn’t really sure what he wanted to do. The drugs were starting to bore him, as were the women, if he was honest.
Ben ventured near the French doors leading to the backyard. He noticed you sitting outside in the garden, surrounded by little yellow flowers. Your mouth was moving, but he could barely hear you.
Slowly he opened the door, so you wouldn’t hear him. Ben approached from behind, but didn’t go far. He just got close enough to hear you softly singing, letting the wind carry your voice away. But now he heard you perfectly.
“If I didn’t care, more than words can say…if I didn’t care, would I feel this way?”
You had a good voice, he acknowledged. And just within the safety of his own mind, it reminded him of the way his mom used to hum along with the radio when she cooked.
His mouth quirking, he returned inside and fished for the phone in his pocket. He scrolled through his contacts and found the number for his favorite escort service here in Colombia.
Now that your anger had died down, you were feeling a bit guilty. You felt more than justified in raking Ben over the coals, and when you thought of how he’d snapped back at you, it still made your blood boil…
But somehow, your guilt remained. Maybe there’d been a better way to say those things. A gentler way that his massive ego could accept.
Though you snorted as you walked through the halls that were now second-nature to you. It was late at night, but not too late that your brain could be calmed and cajoled into sleeping.
He doesn’t understand gentle, your mind reasoned. All that gets through his head is brute force. And sometimes, not even then.
But he’d had every chance to lose his temper violently with you. While he’d certainly been an asshole, he hadn’t tried to break you. Just the kitchen counter.
Curiouser and curiouser…
Without meaning to, your feet brought you close to his door. Your hand was poised to knock…but you hesitated.
Then you heard the sounds coming from within, lusty feminine sighs and male grunting, and you grimaced. Memories of your previous experience in opening Ben’s door flit through your mind and made you blush.
Nope, not this time. You made a sound of disgust and backed away from the door, then fled back down the hall.
With a sigh of boredom, you supposed you could use a midnight snack. You’d just have to go it alone this time.
Fine, you thought, suddenly petulant. And you would make something good too. Something that took some effort, and he wouldn’t get a single morsel!
You went down to the kitchen and rifled through to find the ingredients you needed to make one of your mom’s old comforts: chocolate chip muffins. You didn’t have a Betty Crocker box mix, but you thought you remembered Yvette’s recipe to make them from scratch.
You found a mixing bowl and threw in the powdered ingredients first—the flour, baking powder, sugar, salt. Then you added the vanilla extract, the eggs, vegetable oil, milk, and whipped them up into a batter. You dipped a finger in to taste it so far, and you smiled with a pleased hum.
“Whatever you’re making, it already smells good.”
Your smile fell as you looked up. Tony walked into the kitchen with his booted foot.
You wanted to sigh. What the hell does this bitch want?
His long hair was tucked behind his ears, and he was dressed in tactical gear this time, complete with a belt, though curiously devoid of his gun.
The last time you’d seen him in this ensemble, he’d been kidnapping you. Maybe Soldier Boy sent him off on an “official” errand of some kind, like buying drugs off a cartel or something.
“Good evening,” Tony said with a nod. You nodded back at him, watching him as he approached the kitchen island. You made sure it remained between the two of you as you went to the fridge for some more milk. The batter was a bit too thick.
“What’re you making?” he asked.
“A roast chicken,” you sassed. He shot you a dry look and surveyed the ingredients across the counter. He reached for your open bag of chocolate chips and stole a few, scooping them into his mouth.
Rude, but you didn’t comment. You knew you shouldn’t snipe too much with him.
“Whatever it is, mind saving some for me this time?” he asked. “I heard you made breakfast for the guys the other day.”
“I did saved you some,” you replied. “Not my fault if the self-proclaimed King of Everything ate it all.”
In most ways, Ben was a bottomless pit.
Tony started to curve around the kitchen island. You didn’t miss the move, and you stepped carefully in the other direction.
“What? I just want to grab a beer,” he said, giving you a teasing smirk. “You afraid of me, mi vida?”
You were really sick of men giving you unearned endearments.
“Oh, yeah. Fucking petrified of the one-legged wonder,” you replied. Your voice was dripping with sarcasm. Tony’s sly façade fell into irritation.
There it is, you thought.
“You really are a bitch,” he said tersely.
“Takes one to know one, bitch,” you rejoined. It wasn’t your wittiest comeback, to be sure, but it still seemed to infuriate him. You should’ve been trying to diffuse his temper, not goading him. You just didn’t really think he would try anything after what happened last time.
But you were wrong.
Tony went after you, swifter than you thought possible with that big-ass boot. You muttered a curse and tried to evade him, but he grabbed you by your hair and yanked you back, making you shriek in both surprise and pain.
You had no choice but to twist and aim a shot to his throat with your elbow. While he choked, you aimed another blow to the bridge of his nose, knocking his head back.
You should’ve just fled the kitchen. Guaranteed, you could’ve outrun him. But his audacity made your temper snap. You followed up with a well-lined fist in the same region of his face, once, then twice, and he uttered a shout of pain as you both felt the crunch of his nose breaking.
But then he managed to grab your arm. The two of you grappled, him slipping his foot out of the way when you tried to drive your heel into his boot.
“Can’t get me twice, you fucking cunt,” he hissed, and pulled something from behind his back. Your eyes widened, thinking it was a gun.
And it was a gun. Just not the kind you anticipated.
A shock of electricity ran through your entire body as he tased you in the side, right below your ribs. You convulsed as he did it, unable to move until he relented. It made a few seconds feel like minutes of agony.
You couldn’t even scream. Even when he stopped tasing you, you gasped in air and lost control of your legs.
Tony hooked an arm around your waist and propped you up against the counter. With whatever strength you had, you raised your head, dazed and still in pain as you tried to grasp his shoulder.
He smirked down at you. With one hand, he ripped open your shirt so hard that the fabric burned against your already tingling skin. You gasped as you finally realized what he was about to do.
“Nnn…” you uttered, shoving weakly at his shoulder.
“Shhh,” he said. His cold and lustful blue eyes roved over your heaving breasts still held in your bra, the expanse of your skin. He was able to get a grip of the button on your jeans before you summoned enough strength to fight back.
You shoved your hand against his face, trying to impale his eyes with your nails. But Tony ripped your hand away.
“Fucking bitch. Even now you won’t behave,” he muttered.
He heaved you higher against the counter and pinned you there with a hand wrapped around your throat. He started squeezing, chocking precious air out of your lungs, but you kicked at him, bit your nails into his hand and clawed and fought as hard as you could when he tried prying your legs open with his knee.
You tried crying out, but it was just whimpers making it through his tightening hand around your throat. He got frustrated enough to just break the button on your jeans, ripping the zipper down in the process.
Then, two large hands closed on Tony’s arms.
Both of you looked up and found Ben’s steely green eyes. With a tightening of his jaw and a single upward shift of his grip, Tony’s arms broke. Bone struck through the skin, and the man screamed a horrific, blood curdling sound.
The hand wrapped around your neck released, letting you take in precious air. But that also meant you had nothing propping you up on your shaking legs.
You slumped to the floor against the kitchen island, then watched in horror as Ben grabbed the side of Tony’s face and bashed his head against the counter—over and over until his skull split open.
Nostrils flaring, Ben took in long breaths as Tony’s mangled body fell to the floor in a bloody heap.
Then he turned back to you. Your vision was a bit hazy as you tried to look up at him. Hot tears slipped down your cheeks as he slowly kneeled down to you, and helped you stand up.
“Easy,” he murmured. “You’re all right.”
But you couldn’t stay on your feet.
You made an uneasy sound, and Ben caught you when your legs couldn’t support you. You struggled to raise your head again, but you managed it.
Ben’s eyes roamed over your face and tried to discern what was happening. They held the question that he spoke out loud.
“What’s wrong?” he asked.
What’s wrong. What a damn question, you thought.
Blinking, you tried your best to focus on his bearded face.
“He tased me,” you told him through shallow breaths.
Ben’s jaw clenched again, but all he did was nod. After a beat, he swept you up into his arms. You gasped, but he looked down at you in silent question. You nodded and relaxed against him, briefly closing your eyes.
You wouldn’t know how that small gesture affected him as he carried you out of the kitchen. And up the stairs to the second floor, all the way to your room.
He was careful in laying you down on the bed. You were still crying, and now embarrassed for your own modesty as you grabbed a blanket and tried your best to cover yourself, your ruined shirt hanging from your shoulders and all.
By the time you looked back over your shoulder, Ben was gone.
However, a few minutes later there was a knock at your door. You sniffed.
“Who…” you tried to speak, despite the pain and coarseness of your voice. “Who is it?”
“Frank,” came the response. You didn’t know if you wanted him in here.
But after a long moment, he spoke again.
“I’ve got some water for you,” he said through the door.
You licked your dry lips and tried to swallow, even though it hurt. Water, you could definitely use.
With a sigh you said, “Come in.”
Frank entered with a bottle of water and a med kit. You eyed him warily as he dragged a chair over and sat across from you where you laid on your bed.
“Can you sit up?” he asked.
You weren’t entirely convinced that he was here to help you. But his brown eyes were calm and steady, and you didn’t detect a threat in them.
“I was a paramedic before I enlisted,” he said.
You blinked in surprise. You eventually obliged him by sitting up, but you still held the blanket around your body. Ben must’ve filled him in…and sent him to check on you.
Tears welled up in your eyes again. Because every time you thought you had Soldier Boy figured out, the humanity of Ben surprised you.
“Can I see where he tased you?” Frank asked.
Though you hesitated, you opened your blanket enough for him to take a look at your bruised side. Sighing through his nose, Frank nodded. He wore medical gloves, and he raised his hands to prod at your neck.
You whimpered and leaned away from his touch. Frank slowly dropped his hands away from you. His eyes softened.
“You asked about my family,” he said. You gave a belated nod, once you remembered that conversation from a few weeks ago. Had it only been a month since you’d gotten here?
It felt like a year.
Frank held your gaze, and you remembered asking him. Got a family? Wife and kids?
He hadn’t answered you. You’d thought maybe there was a story there. Now you knew for sure that there was.
“I have a daughter,” said Frank. His tone held the weight of sincerity, just as his words held an underlying promise.
Your tears fell. You nodded and allowed him to finish patching you up.
He then left you alone, saying that he would bring you something to eat in a little while. But after the door clicked shut, you allowed yourself to let go.
You mostly spent the next day in your room. Frank came by to check on you, to offer you something to eat. You took what he gave you, but you only nibbled. You couldn’t quite bring yourself to enjoy eating.
You imagined it getting clogged in your throat, as a hand wrapped around it. First Antonio’s, then your father’s hand.
You remembered when you were thirteen years old, and you finally snapped back at him when he tried to cut down your mom again with his drunken cursing.
You remembered the dryness of his hands, one of them closing around your neck and squeezing until you saw black spots encroaching on your vision.
And your mom intervened, threw herself onto him. You held your little sister in the closet. She was far too little to understand what was going on, but she knew it was bad.
You covered her eyes, and you watched through the slits as he beat your mom within an inch of her life.
You remembered fumbling with the landline, whispering into the receiver until police sirens circled through the windows and illuminated the dim house.
You remembered until you had to shut your eyes against memories and hot tears.
It was another day before your room felt like a suffocating cage once again. Night had fallen, according to the TV guide, approaching midnight.
You had to gather your courage, but you got dressed into one of your new plain shirts and jeans (which Ben had bought you, you were reminded).
When your stomach growled, you frowned. You hadn’t been able to keep much down for the past couple of days. Sighing, you reached a hand for the doorknob.
Your fingers hesitated on the brass, but you remembered something Louisa told you the day she graduated from high school.
You hugged her tight with the broadest grin and kissed her cheek. With tears in your eyes, you held up her hand, which held a diploma with honors.
She had a chance to go to college—something you hadn’t had. But you were going to make sure she did.
“You’re a rockstar, Lou. I’m so damn proud of you,” you said. She laughed and wiped a tear from your cheek.
“It’s only because of you,” she said. “You’re a rock, sis. Even when you’re not.”
Your sister was a smart little shit, wise beyond her years. And that had stuck with you ever since.
You’re a rock. Even when you’re not.
Even when that insidious voice inside whispered things. That you were weak, not strong enough, not smart enough. A burden on your family, on your friends. A disappointment. A bitch with an attitude and not much else.
But you sucked in a shaking breath and frowned at yourself, your brows knitting together.
No, you thought stubbornly.
And you opened the door.
With cautious steps you made your way downstairs. You forced yourself to keep walking, your heart rate climbing, until you reached the kitchen.
You didn’t know what you expected, but Ben standing there and staring into the fridge was not it.
It was the first time you’d seen him dressed down, in sweatpants, a soft-looking gray shirt, and some old man loafer slippers. You couldn’t help a smile at the sight.
Maybe he sensed a presence behind him, because he perked up and glanced over his shoulder. Finding you standing there with a small smile, if a bit awkwardly, the corner of his mouth twitched upwards.
“Hey, sweetheart,” he said.
“Hey,” you replied with a nod, and you braved entering the kitchen. It was spotlessly clean, almost as if nothing had happened in this room.
Except for the large section missing from the kitchen counter, revealing the cement underneath. Likely it had been too damaged to be repaired and needed to just be torn out and replaced.
Your gaze roamed across the counter to the spot where you’d been assaulted. You couldn’t help focusing on it, so long that your vision started to glaze over.
Until you realized that Ben was slowly approaching you. He had a beer in hand, which he must’ve grabbed from the fridge. You sucked in a breath and looked up at him.
“You’re up and about pretty late,” he remarked.
“So are you,” you returned with an attempt at a smile. “I got hungry.”
Ben huffed in amusement. “Figures…though not gonna lie, was feeling peckish myself.”
He gestured at the fridge dismissively. “There’s not much.”
He could’ve woken up Simone, you were ready to point out. But maybe, just maybe, something you said had gotten to him. Maybe he’d wanted to just figure it out for himself, but didn’t know where to start.
“Let me take a look,” you said instead. You went first to the pantry and took a brief inventory. “You feeling sweet or savory?”
“Savory,” he replied after a moment. He went over to the breakfast bar and sat down with his beer while you continued to rifle through.
“Hmm, how about spaghetti?” you suggested.
Ben raised a brow. “It’s almost midnight.”
You shot him a small grin. “So? You’re hungry, right?”
You could tell he wasn’t totally into the idea, but he shrugged.
“All right.”
You hummed as you gathered all the ingredients you needed. Ben watched you lay them out across from him on the counter: onions, tomato sauce, various seasonings, and more. He eyed the entire head of garlic you were getting ready to peel.
“Jesus, you tryin’ to kill a vampire or something?” he quipped. You gave him a wry look.
“Have you ever made spaghetti before?” you asked. This was as basic as it came, but the way he was looking at the vegetables told you the entire concept of peeling, cutting, and throwing them together into a pan was foreign to him.
“Probably,” he said with a shrug.
Meaning never, you interpreted. Ben really just had no idea how to cook, you realized. You didn’t understand how a century-old man was so lacking in everyday skills…
But maybe you did. The files neatly stored in your brain reminded you that he’d grown up a rich kid. Very rich. Then after he became Soldier Boy, he’d all too soon reached the pinnacle of fame. He’d made so much money in four decades that he’d probably never needed to do a menial task in his life.
Maybe you could get him to try.
However, you hadn’t realized it until now, but even after a full day, your body hadn’t fully recuperated from what you’d gone through. Maybe it was the latent stress, but you already felt tired, your body heavy.
With a growing idea in your mind, you finished peeling and crushing the garlic and grabbed two onions. You held up one of them for his view.
“Would you mind helping me?” you asked.
Ben sat back in his seat, crossing his arms.
“Do I look like Betty fucking Crocker to you?”
“Do you have to be so rude?” you clipped back. His lips twitched in amusement, until you sighed, and took a break from standing up straight to lean against the counter. Your side was starting to twinge from where you’d been tased.
“What’s the matter now?” he asked. His brows knit together, and you could almost swear you saw concern in his eyes.
But you pressed your lips together. It really pained you to admit it, but…
“Still a bit shaky,” you said, lowering your eyes. “I…honestly don’t know if I can finish this.”
For a moment, Ben just stared at you.
He frowned, then made a sound of annoyance.
“Christ,” he muttered, and finished off his beer before he stood. He took his time coming around the island to meet you.
“Fine,” he deadpanned. “What is it you want?”
A smile grew across your face, bright and grateful. You handed him an onion.
“Peel and chop this, please.”
You made room for him at the cutting board and gestured for him to move in there. Ben considered the onion in his hand and took the knife from you. And after a beat of hesitation, he cut the whole thing in half.
You made a halting sound, lightly touching his wrist. “I’d peel that first if I were you.”
“I know what the fuck I’m doing,” he retorted, but you read the defensiveness in his eyes.
Hiding an amused smile, you relented and let him do it the way he wanted. But you did notice that he started peeling off the first layer of skin before he started cutting again.
Meanwhile, you found a sauce pan in the cupboard and a pot for boiling the pasta. And the two of you fell into a strange, companionable silence while cooking together.
Until you noticed him glancing at your neck. You knew there were bruises there, still purplish, but healing. It reminded you to gather your courage for something else.
“Thank you,” you said, with difficulty. “For…for saving me.”
Ben’s gaze met yours, but all he did was nod. You’d expected him to be his usual cocky self about it.
“Why did you do it?” you asked. He paused in his truly horrendous cutting; irregular pieces of onion were all over the cutting board, but he was still going for the second one.
Then he huffed. “Would you rather I hadn’t?”
“Be serious,” you said, before you could censure yourself. He raised a brow at you.
“You know what?” he said. “Think what you want about me, but I’m not a fucking animal.”
His frown deepened, like he was offended at you just for asking.
Well, fair enough.
So you let it go as the two of you cooked together.
But as Ben was peeling the stubborn hide off the vegetable, it slipped out of his frustrated hands and rolled away. Thankfully it stopped just shy of falling off the counter.
You couldn’t help a small giggle at his expense. He had the strength of twenty men or whatever, but he couldn’t chop an onion to save his life.
Ben shot you a wryly amused look. “Oh, you better not be fucking laughing at me.”
That just made you laugh in earnest, even though you covered your mouth with your hand. His grin deepened at the sound, despite the embarrassment making his face and neck warm up.
He grabbed the hateful head of veg and looked anywhere but you as he got ready to try again. There was no way he was letting you, or this fucking onion, make a fool out of him.
But your soft hand soon covered over his. You offered him a genuine smile, your eyes gleaming.
“Want me to show you a trick I learned?” you asked.
He hesitated, but he eventually moved over and let you in on the action. You took up the knife, held down the onion, and cut the ends off first. Then you were able to more easily peel off the rest of the outer layer.
“You can do this part any way you want, really. But I like to cut it down the middle first, then chop up one half at a time like this,” you explained.
And you felt Ben move in closer behind you to watch your methodical work.
The heat from his proximity actually made you start to blush like a damn school girl. You tried to stamp it down, but heat flared into your cheeks when his hand covered yours and took back the knife.
“All right, all right, I got it. Move over,” he said. You huffed, but you grinned and let him continue…
By the way his eyes later lit up when he tasted the meal, you knew he really did like your cooking. Now, you didn’t want to feed his outdated views on gender roles…but you could admit, seeing him enjoy something so simple as your grandma’s spaghetti recipe was gratifying.
It wasn’t the first time you’d shared a decent moment with Ben. But it was the first time that it hadn’t felt like an act. You didn’t know what to do with that—or the conflicted feeling making your heart ache.
And you certainly didn’t want to find anything about him endearing.
AN: So first of all, sorry for all the angst and TWs in this one. But here lies the end of Tony's fuck ass. ✌🏽 And maybe she's starting to understand (and trust) Ben a bit more...
Next time: Two weeks later, Ben is getting under her skin in the worst (best) way. (AKA: the moment we've all been waiting for...)
You should’ve just pushed him away already…but his nearness was mucking up your good sense.
The truth was, you weren’t afraid of him. Not anymore. And maybe you didn’t hate him.
Maybe…
“Well, what’s it gonna be?” he asked you.
Your lips parted, halting on a reply.
Keep Reading: PART 7
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How would human Oliver react to finding a borrower James?
I'm happy with this one ^^
---
Oliver lived a fairly quiet life. He worked as a child psychologist throughout the week. On Thursdays he ordered a takeaway and would finish his leftovers on Friday, on Saturdays he went to the library to check out and return books, he tended to his garden every couple of days, and on Sundays he mowed some of his elderly neighbors' lawns.
Most mornings he had toast or cereal. Every other Sunday he had a full English. On Fridays he went out for a cream tea— scones with jam and clotted cream were his favorite after all. On Tuesdays he gave some jars of handmade jam around the neighbourhood, and sometimes a few extra treats if he made them.
He went to a local sandwich shop for lunch every day other than on weekends, where he always ordered the same egg salad sandwich. He always got cheese and onion crisps, always had a medium coffee, always sat in the same seat by the window.
He had a routine and he stuck to it.
To his coworkers he was known as a good worker; polite, well-received, compassionate. He wasn't friends with anyone though.
This didn't upset him in the slightest. He liked his quiet life, and whenever he got close to others they ultimately ended up discovering his past, rumours would spread, and then everyone would treat him differently again.
He had gotten used to the usual pitying looks when he was younger after he became an orphan— then the disturbed looks when he wasn't fazed by the loss at all. That passed. Now people presumed he had grieved already so it wasn't so difficult.
But then his cousins went missing.
Just a few months before he received his doctorate he got a call— an awful horrible and truly terrible call. It informed him that his uncle and aunt, his guardians, had been shot dead, and his two younger cousins had gone missing.
He graduated the year after instead.
But now he lived a quiet life. A quiet life, waiting, hoping to receive another call telling him his cousins were found alive. Rumours had initially spread saying he was responsible and even though he had been cleared by the police every time, people still talked about it.
So things were fine like this. Quiet. Sometimes a bit lonely, but nothing Oliver couldn't handle. He stuck to his routine and that was that.
Well… That was that until as he began pouring cereal into his bowl of milk, a tiny man fell out along with it. Oliver froze, staring down at the man in a mixture of shock, disbelief, and pure confusion. The man in turn, after right himself, stared straight back at him.
"...uhm… Hello there..?" Oliver wasn't sure why exactly there was a tiny man sitting in his bowl of shreddies soaked in milk, but he was sure that there was a tiny man there. As baffling as it was, it was better than a rat falling out.
Was this some form of mutated rodent? No. They looked entirely human all aside from their incredibly diminutive size. Oliver began cycling through every myth and fairytale he had read that might give him something else to go off of… though perhaps this was just a shrunken man..?
He received no response to his greeting— aside from a frightened look. That's fair, Oliver thought, I imagine it must be rather disorienting to fall out of a cereal box at half past six in the morning.
"Hmm…"
To remedy that fact, Oliver first considered picking the tiny man up with his fingers to get him out of the bowl…but on second thought, he wanted to avoid getting his fingers covered in milk. Instead he picked up his spoon, very carefully bringing it towards the man in order to scoop him out onto a dishcloth or something— though he stopped the moment he heard the tiny man cry out.
"Don't eat me..! Jesus—" The man exclaimed, splashing about in the bowl to get away from his spoon. Oliver shut his eyes for a moment as a few drops of milk splashed onto the lenses of his glasses. Opening his eyes again, Oliver's brows furrowed in confusion.
"Eat you? Why on Earth would I do such an awful thing..?" Oliver took off his glasses, wiping them off on his shirt and reminding himself to clean them properly later. Placing them back on his face, Oliver found himself looking down at the clearly shaken little man once more, taking note of the fear that was apparent in their expression and body language.
He waved the spoon slightly to bring the man's attention onto it again.
"I only intended to get you out of the bowl and onto a dry surface, as I'm sure it's not particularly comfortable steeping in milk and soggy cereal." He placed the spoon back down. "I suppose I should have asked permission beforehand though… My apologies. Do you require assistance?"
The tiny man went from looking horrified to seeming completely lost— Oliver wasn't sure why… he hadn't said anything out of the ordinary had he? He was working on not overcomplicating everything he said but it was hard when he was simply talking in the same way he thought.
"I-I…no?" It was spoken more as a question, but Oliver respected it nonetheless, putting his spoon down and moving away from the bowl. He opened his dishes cupboard, taking out a new bowl and pouring milk into it once again. He looked into the cereal box first this time before pouring shreddies into the bowl of milk just to make sure this wasn't a repeat incident.
He looked towards his previous bowl, seeing that the man had yet to move. Somewhat confused, Oliver walked back over, setting his new breakfast down onto the countertop just beside it before pulling up a stool, not yet sitting.
"Although you may do as you wish, I would prefer to clean that bowl and put it away sooner rather than later. Are you sure you don't need any help at all?" He asked, raising an eyebrow. That seemed to snap the tiny man out of his frozen state as they quickly scrambled into action and pulled themself out of the bowl, dripping milk all over the counter.
Satisfied, Oliver picked up the bowl, draining the milk into the sink before dumping the soggy shreddies into the bin. As much as he didn't like waste he didn't plan on eating a breakfast someone had been sitting in. He grabbed a paper towel before walking back over, offering it to the man.
They stumbled back away from his hand, but Oliver didn't falter— he even offered a reassuring smile.
"I'll clean the counter after so don't worry about making a mess. You may leave— though I suggest drying off first. Feel free, also, to wash off in the sink." He waited patiently, observing how hesitant the tiny man was to accept the towel. After thirty seconds had passed and the man had made no progress, Oliver tilted his head, pulling away slightly.
"Are you afraid of me..?" He asked, not offended in the slightest. Hardly even surprised either— considering the size difference it would just be instinctual to fear him, but he thought he was at least being calm and gentle enough to dissipate that slightly. The man met his eyes— his were brown. A nice deep shade of it, Oliver noted.
Although he sensed that they had a response hanging on the edge of their tongue, Oliver didn't get to hear it as they suddenly ran off. Although startled, Oliver didn't make any attempts to stop them, watching with some interest as they opened up a hidden entrance into the walls and quickly hid away inside.
Oliver stayed silent for a few moments after, processing the events that had just happened.
"..my name is Oliver, by the way."
#g/t community#g/t#ocs#borrowers#g/t artist#borrower au#giant/tiny#g/t au#ask box#g/t writer#g/t writing#borrower oc#oc asks#ask#giant/tiny writing
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Side Piece: Spinach Artichoke Dip
TIME: ★★★★
PRICE: ★★★★
EASE: ★★★★
CLEANUP: ★★★★
So my online grocery order glitched and I ordered 3x more spinach than I had intended to last week. In a frantic attempt to find some way to keep it from going bad on me, I made a TON of Spinach Artichoke Dip.
Thankfully the recipe I found was AWESOME and stupidly easy! It's a crock pot recipe so while it takes 1-2 hours, you're really just dumping ingredients in and letting it cook. Though you wanna stir it a couple times throughout the cooking, you're really not spending much more than 10 minutes prepping the dish, and most of that is rough chopping spinach.
Tips:
-I HIGHLY recommending adding more salt (and cheese) than the recipe calls for. It'll ultimately be to taste, and you can always add more salt to an individual serving if you wanted, but the first time I made it, it needed a little more salt.
These go great with tortilla chips or thinly sliced little toast pieces!
Slow Cooker Spinach Artichoke Dip (GiveMeSomeOven)
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doing this all at once because im fasting and need a distraction... this shit be getting personal lmao
day 1: your stats
currently 82.2lbs as of writing
day 2: how tall are you, do you like your height?
im 4'10, no not really! definitely doesnt help my bmi out at all, lmao. id prefer to be around 5'4.
day 3: a picture of your thinspiration. what features do you like about this person?
most thinspo kinda rolls off my back and doesnt affect me, so i dont really look at it. blessing and a curse.
day 4: your greatest fear about weight loss
i only have one fear, and its my partner. she (not so subtly) compares herself to me and uses me as thinspo, and i know losing weight will only make this problem worse.
day 5: why do you really want to lose weight? are you doing it for you?
im not sure if theres a real reason anymore. everything i can think of is something that occurred after the disordered eating started, so i dont know what truly drives me. id say im doing it for myself because theres nobody else i would do it for.
day 6: do you binge? if so, explain why you think you do
of course, definitely. most times its due to an emotion, i think ive always used food as a comfort in that way.
day 7: do your parents know you are trying to lose weight? do they care?
they dont, i never told them and they havent found out. i assume my mom would care, my father sorta shuts himself off so i dont know if hed be mad about it or what.
day 8: your workout routine
im physically disabled from an unknown myopathy (my body doesnt produce enough muscle) so everything is a workout to me lmao. i generally walk around for 4-ish hours a day, since i cant quite manage anything else.
day 9: did anyone ever make comments about your weight in a negative way?
no, only my eating habits. i was often told that i ate so much i mustve had a tapeworm, and most of what i eat is "junk food" due to sensory issues.
day 10: what was the hardest thing you gave up during this weight loss?
dude, i fucking miss the liquid calories! in past restriction phases i refused to count liquid cals, and i definitely still lost weight, but not as fast as i would have liked. ive started counting them and ughhhhh.
i didnt cut them out completely, so i still have creamer in my coffee and the occasional soda, but i want my milkshake goddamnit 😭
day 11: your favorite thinspo blog and why
same answer as day 3.
day 12: what do you normally eat?
for main meals i usually have tuna on toast, egg salad sandwiches, cream cheese bagels, ham sandwiches/ham bagels, grilled cheeses, basically just carb + animal product. if we order out its either a cheeseburger or fried rice.
for sides/snacks/small meals i like string cheese, pickles, mini candies, lollipops, pepperoni, if theres any sweets in the house i have some of that.
its a wonder that i even lose weight on this lmao. but OMAD and counting cals is what makes it possible.
day 13: are you losing weight in a healthy or unhealthy way?
i dont think ive ever seen someone answer this with the former option. we're all doing this unhealthily on this side of tumblr.
day 14: whats your UGW? when do you expect to reach it?
ooh, tough one. it seems like everyone has a set UGW but i dont. i feel most compelled towards the number 73lbs, which is the bmi of my LW (15.3). i dont think that bmi is low enough for me though, i'll figure out when i get there.
ive gotten close to that weight a couple times, but ultimately something always happens and i emotionally binge or whatever. no clue about timing.
day 15: are you vegan or vegetarian? if so, has this helped you lose weight? if not, would you consider turning vegan or vegetarian?
ive had lengths of time where ive been pescetarian (vegetarian + fish), it never helped me lose weight.
at this time in my life im not able to limit my diet to that degree, but i heavily support the lifestyle for ethical and environmental reasons. if i move out id likely try veganism.
day 16: when did you first decide to lose weight?
i began obsessively weighing myself at 7, and started to learn purging around 9/10. it wasnt ever something i was serious about, but at 12 i discovered the online ana community andddd... it really just brought out that part of me. so id say 12 is where it officially began, but ive had it in me since 7.
day 17: do you have an eating disorder?
never officially diagnosed but i dont think most people here are. yes, anorexia nervosa.
day 18: what food is your weakness?
i dont restrict what type of food i eat, as long as its under my limit. but my real weakness is food other people give me... i cant resist it regardless of the calories and it makes me feel so dumb. they dont even have to be in the room! it could just be takeout, they dont even have to be the one to cook it!
day 19: when is the last time you ate fast food?
i cant even remember, i almost never eat it since i dont like it. the grease and the oils coat my mouth and throat and it feels so disgusting.
taco bell cinnamon twists are bomb though.
day 20: favorite diet?
the special k diet is funny (literally just eat special k) but i always lose a lot of weight when i do cereal-based diets like that.
day 21: what are your clothing sizes?
ehhhh,,, i dont wear fitting clothes and everything is baggy, do usually womens small or sometimes xs.
my measurements are quite small (26bust, 23waist, 28hip IIRC?) so im below a 00 in most charts ive seen. unfortunately thats just my general size due to my height, im not as thin as people imagine from that by any means.
day 22: what was your lowest weight? when and how did you gain?
73lbs at 12, my height didnt change since then lmao. i experienced some trauma right after getting to that weight, which led to me binging myself back up to 90lbs.
day 23: did the media play a role in your wanting to lose weight?
i think it was more personal experiences rather than the media, however the media likely did contribute once i had already established my disordered eating.
day 24: how do you feel about the terms pro-ana/pro-mia
it depends on the context. in the original meaning, it just meant a space where you could discuss your disorder without actively working towards recovery. i support that heavily.
nowadays, where it usually means people promoting ana/mia as some pretty dainty "lifestyle", fucking ew. what is wrong with you people. i understand wanting to romanticize your disorder (and find others who do the same), but i draw the line at genuinely thinking that disordered eating makes you "better" than others, or whatever bullshit they try to say.
day 25: have you ever purged? if so, describe your first experience.
i have purged in the past, but due to my disability (day 8) i typically cant vomit anymore no matter what i try. the muscle just isnt strong enough anymore to contract that violently.
first experience was harrowing lmao, i had had a bowl of instant ramen and was hallucinating as i was purging it. everything else was so distracting, i dont really remember anything about the actual purging itself.
day 26: what excites you most about reaching your UGW?
the first time i got to my LW, i just remember feeling so giddy and proud and i want that again and again.
day 27: how do you deal with being around food?
if i eat it, im not longer around it... i just have zero self control.
day 28: do you want that gap between your legs? why?
i guess so. its something a lot of people are envious of, and i knew i was happy when i had it in the past.
day 29: your definition of beauty.
this is going to sound "wrong" from an anorexic person, but chubby people. i dont have a fetish for it, i have slept with average people without problem, but i dont think i could date someone who wasnt at least bmi 23... ive found that bmi 25-27 is the sweet spot though.
i just think theres something so attractive about it regardless of gender. like hell yeah thick arms and round stomachs and back rolls. fuck yeah.
day 30: 10 facts about you! and now, what are your stats?
oh god what is this, an interrogation? not saying stats since im doing this in one go.
i draw (hobbyist, nowhere near professional)
i collect animal bones and general knick knacks
garfield and miku are my favorite characters
i tap on everything
i wanted to be a veterinarian as a kid
favorite animals are polar bears and hammerheads
my grandmother wanted me to be named tapestry (what??)
i have dyscalculia
i enjoy making cookies
i can barely whistle
#⭐️ve#4nerex1a#⭐️rving#4norexla#an0rec1a#anrexx#⭐️vation goals#4nor3xia#⭐️ ing motivation#anrexya#4n4rexia#4norexia#3ating d1sorder#tw an0rexia#an4r3xia#an4rexia
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what would be the ingredients on your ultimate sammich (or burger, if you like that)
oh fuuuuuck. i am going to say burger. medium rare very juicy burger. barbeque suaoce. extra colby jack cheese. bacon. crispy onion straws. and you know what? you know what? couple slices of avocado. little bit of a wild card on a barbeque burger maybe, but fuck it, you know? and the barbeque sauce should have a tiny bit of spice. just a slight heat. like thay sweet heat type of thing. all on a lightly toasted brioche bun? fuck ueah baby. and with those flaky crispy fries that seafood places always have. and wash it down with a beautiful root beer. and you know what. if it’s one of those places that’s hip enough to have birch beer, then that instead of root beer
thank you anon for painting tbis beautiful burger picture with me. i would like to make this real now
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Pierogi & Kielbasa Curry
This is a Polish-Indian fusion dish that is one of my favorite meals to make. The Gujarati spice base with Polish staples makes for a very tasty and hearty stew-like curry. Enjoy :)
NB: If an ingredient doesn't have an amount next to it, it is intended to be eyeballed to the maker's preference. Additionally, be sure to check the footnotes at the bottom before asking any questions. My inbox is always open.
Ingredients
Vaghar
Vegetable Oil
1 Cinnamon stick
5-10 Cloves
Cumin seeds
Black mustard seeds
Fenugreek seeds
1 Dash of hing (asafoetida) (1)
Contents
1 Onion
Garlic (2)
12 Potato & Farmer's Cheese Pierogi (3)
1 Kielbasa (14 oz.) (4)
2 Tomatos
Water
~1 tsp. Tomato paste
Spices and Thickeners
Cumin powder
Coriander powder
Paprika
Garam masala (5)
Chili powder (6)
~1 cup Sour cream (7)
Potato Flakes
Instructions
Start by mincing the garlic and dicing the onions and tomatos. Then Put them to the side. To make the vaghar, put the vegetable oil in a large pot over medium heat. After about a minute of letting it heat up, add all of the whole spices to the pot (cinnamon, cloves, cumin seeds, mustard seeds, and fenugreek seeds). Stir the spices a little to make sure they are coated in the oil. Once the cumin seeds begin to toast and change color, add the hing and stir again. The goal here is to infuse the oil with the flavor of the spices, so once you feel that has been accomplished(8), add the garlic and onions and begin sauteing(9).
Once the onions start to brown, add the kielbasa and all of the pierogi. Be sure to stir carefully so as to not poke holes in the pierogi, and make sure there is enough oil to prevent the pierogi from sticking and tearing open. If you notice things starting to stick, add more vegetable oil. Ultimately, the goal at this stage is to fry the pierogi skins to prevent them from becoming soggy after you add the water and infuse the pierogi and kielbasa with the flavor of the spices. Once you feel that is done, add the diced tomatos (juice and all) to the pot, and fill with water until everything is covered. add the tomato paste and stir.
Add all of the ground spices (cumin, coriander, paprika, and garam masala, and chili powder(10)) and stir. Turn the stove up to high, and stir. Continue to stir carefully so as to avoid tearing pierogi, and try diligently to keep things off the bottom of the pot because they will stick easily. Once the curry starts to boil, turn the heat down to low/simmer and add the sour cream. Once you are happy with the amount of sour cream you have added, thicken the curry the rest of the way to your preference with the potato flakes.
Footnotes
Ingredients
(1) If you cannot obtain the hing or garam masala, don't sweat it. They are not integral parts of the recipe.
(2) Feel free to economize anything in this recipe. I frequently use garlic powder instead of garlic and canned diced tomatos when I am busy. The recipe above in its current form is intended to represent the freshest possible version of it. Do not drive yourself crazy trying to make it perfect.
(3) Be careful with pierogi that simply call themselves "potato and cheese." I know at least in the United States a lot of the potato and cheese pierogi use cheddar, which would not work for this recipe. Alternatively, you could use plain potato pierogi and make the farmer's cheese yourself (to my knowledge all you have to do is boil milk, add sour cream till it curdles, and strain the curds) and add it seperately to the curry.
(4) Preferably, use turkey or chicken kielbasa to avoid accidentally committing a heresy against one of the two cultures this dish is from.
(5) Generally, its highly unusual for turmeric to be lacking from the list of spices in a curry like this, but in my earliest attempts with this recipe, I noticed it was clashing with the spices usually found in kielbasa. If you want to try adding it anyways, be my guest.
(6) I actually usually don't add chili powder since this curry is already naturally so mild I most often make it for spice-averse audiences, but hypothetically just chili powder shouldn't really increase the heat much because of all the dairy. Therefore, if you're interested in making this recipe with all the heat of a traditional indian curry, I recommend adding a few whole, dried red chilis to the vaghar as well as a tablespoon of chili garlic sauce when you start cooking the onions.
(7) 1 cup is what i most commonly add, but really how much you want to add is entirely dependent on how much you like sour cream. You could easily put in 2 cups as well. You could also put in 1/2 a cup and and have sour cream available for people to add to their individual bowls.
Instructions
(8) the other goal here is to not burn the spices. It can be a fine line trying to infuse as much of their flavor as possible into the oil without overheating them. All you can do is try to gauge if its infused by smell. Ultimately, if the scent of the vaghar becomes smoky, just add the onions immediately to prevent any further burning.
(9) I also like to add a small amount of all the ground spices (cumin, coriander, paprika, and garam masala) or a teaspoon of curry paste to the onions here as well. This helps give the onions, kielbasa and pierogi more of that flavor, but it also absorbs oil and makes things easier to stick the bottom of the pot, so judge for yourself whether its worth it.
(10) see 6. It is not necessary to add the chili powder unless you like heat.
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Bagel, Egg and Cheese Sarmie
Bagel, Egg, and Cheese Sarmie
Ingredients4 bagelsOlive Oil8 large eggs100g cheddar cheese, grated1 tsp dried oreganoSalt, to tasteBlack pepper, to taste
MethodPreheat your oven, to 180C.Prepare a baking tray with baking paper and set aside.Slice the bagels in half and place the bagels cut side down on the prepared baking tray.Drizzle with olive oil.Top the bagels with cheese, and crack an egg…
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#authentic#bagel egg and cheese sandwiches#bagel egg and cheese toasted sandwich#bagel egg sandwiches#delicious#easy#food#fresh#high protein breakfast#Meal prep#simple#south African#the ultimate toasted cheese sandwich
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Daily Check-in - July 26 2023 🎀
I am so exhausted right now. This heat and my job are making me worn out, but I need the 5 I need to push through these next few days. I woke up late this morning, so I didn't have much for my morning routine besides making my bed and a cup of coffee. I got off work today and have been on the verge of sleep ever since, so my night routine was also incomplete tonight. I apologize for the inconsistencies in my habits these first few days. I'm just trying to get a hang of my work days and my routines. Finding a balance is difficult but necessary right now. I got this though, I believe in myself!!
🩷 What I Ate Today:
Breakfast - One slice of toast with mashed avocado, a sprinkle of paprika, a fried egg on 5 a side of watermelon. Of course, I had my usual morning cup of coffee!
Lunch - A small serving of spaghetti with marinara, grated parmesean cheese, a small bag of grapes given to me by a friend, and one babybel cheese.
Dinner - Ten boiled chicken potstickers with some potsticker sauce and three babybel cheeses.
Other - I drank one bottle of water containing a dissolved electrolyte tablet to rehydrate while at work, and had a second cup of coffee after work
Snacks - a quesadilla on a low carb tortilla
It was not the best day for me food wise, but the exhaustion is getting me to the point where I'm trying to eat to gain some energy, but it's only working against me right now. I think I'm going to eat yogurt for lunch tomorrow since I'll get off work early due to a weekly therapy appointment.
🩷 Workout - INCOMPLETE
Today was supposed to be a fun kpop dance cardio morning but due to waking up late and the constant and persistent fatigue, that did not happen. I will get back on track tomorrow with my scheduled workout routine.
🩷 Habits I Completed Today:
I made my bed today, and that is about it for the goals I wanted to achieve. Some days are going to be harder than others, and I expect that, so I am not going to beat myself up over one bad day. I was only capable of existing today, and sometimes existing is all we need to do until the next day comes.
🩷 Song of The Day: I Am - Baby Tate ft. Flo Milli
Thos song (and a lot of water) is the only thing that got me through work today. For me this is my ultimate manifestation song. I love the lyrics the music, the meaning. This is a new daily morning song for me!
Today was a bit underwhelming, but as I said before, all I was able to do was exist today. My energy was not there. The brain fog was intense, and even as I type this, I am fighting the urge to fall asleep. Tomorrow will be a better day for me. I found two meditation videos for morning and night that I plan to incorporate, and I will continue with my journey as planned, adapting to the situations I face as they come up.
Also, my skincare came in!! I'm so excited!!!
Thank you, lovelies!!! I believe in myself and I believe in you all! Let continue on the path to our higher selves, in whatever way that is for us, and continue to be compassionate and flexible with our constantly changing circumstances!
Til next time!!!
#health & fitness#mental health#physical health#pink pilates girl#pink pilates princess#self care#self care tips#self development#self love#wonyoung aesthetic#wonyoung#wonyoungism#it girl#it girl energy#that girl#that girl energy#green juice girl#clean girl#vanilla girl#coquette girl#kpop#ive wonyoung#motivation#tired#workout#low energy#compassion#chloe ting#girl blogger#girlblog
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Guys, @valenthobbies just lit up like a Christmas tree when I suggested making oven toast for dinner, so let me share my dad's recipe for Ultimate Oven Toast When Dinner is Too Much Effort:
Grab a slice of bread. Doesn't matter what bread. Can be crackers if you want.
Lather it in butter or margarine (one side only).
Do a swirl of ketchup and a dot of BBQ sauce on top and spread it evenly across the bread.
Want meat? Put some meat on it. Today we're doing ham.
Optional: any other toppings your heart desires.
Cheese. Cover it in cheese. Any cheese is fine, as long as it melts and you actually enjoy it. We're using cheddar because we're British. (Well, my fiancé is, I'm not.)
Spice it up with your favourite flavours! We use paprika, chilli powder, and any pleasant green herb mix we've got at hand (today it's herbs de provence).
Jam it in the oven for 15-20 minutes at 200°C.
FEAST
The best thing about this? You can prepare it in advance. It'll keep perfectly well in the fridge for a couple of days, or even the freezer! It's basically a mini pizza!
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the ultimate breakfast sandwich: toasted sesame seed bagel, cream cheese, bacon, jelly.
wait actually it could do with some fruit or veg to brighten it up. what should i add to this sandwich
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PSA for all non-Australians trying Vegemite for the first time.
The toast or bread you're using needs to be slathered in butter and the amount of vegemite you scrape out of the jar should cover a centimetre/the tip of your knife. Coverage upon the buttered toast/bread should be thin, but ultimately there should be less vegemite than butter on the toast/bread for best taste.
It's strong stuff and very salty (hence why you need to use quite a bit of butter to kind of counteract that with a bit of creaminess), so for fuck's sake, don't eat it by the spoonful and whinge when it doesn't taste good.
That's all.
Also, vegemite toast with a bit of cheese grilled on top of it slaps so hard as a "can't be fucked making anything" breakfast, lunch, or dinner. Above method applies with Vegemite application, though you can go a little heavier on it because the cheese is there as well as the butter.
#vegemite#aussie things#americans i am looking at you more than everyone else#why are you on my tiktok fyp page with a spoon and a jar of vegemite#i also saw someone open a tin of milo with a can opener and i've never been the same since#unhinged#kitchen crimes#australia#hydro rambles
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asura nation i am about to become the biggest class traitor but. i am deciding ultimately to make my commander a human. (until i change my mind maybe)
IDK WHY but each time i try convincing myself "oh asura have better animations" "ohhh this and that" i keep thinking about how... honestly interesting humans are!
theyre this strange new race that isnt even native to tyria. they established footholds and are trying to carve land out for themselves in a land that Genuinely Isn't For Them. they have like 190102001 enemies external and internal. sure theyre literally anet's favorite race but. cmon. CMONNNNN. i just like the human culture gw2 has. i have a soft spot for humans in fantasy settings because its like. sure they're the bland bread option but you can butter bread! you can toast it with some oil and put cheese on it! you can make sandwiches and soups and puddings and so much good food with bread! if you think of humans as bland you really arent giving them a chance to shine when they're just as interesting as the other gw2 races! :[
i dont know why im so passionate about this but i am... humans in fantasy settings deserve to shine... OK....
.... all of this AND i've genuinely never experienced the human personal story (LOL) ... that aaannnnddd i like the female human voice... U_U
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Stacked, packed, and ready to kickstart the day! 🌟 This ‘Savory Breakfast Stack’ layers golden-browned bagels, a perfectly fried egg, and a sprinkle of fresh herbs. It’s the ultimate breakfast for champions. Who’s up for a bite? #BreakfastGoals #EggcellentAdventure #BagelBliss
Recipe for one serving:
Ingredients:
• Bagel: 2 halves (toasted)
• Eggs: 1 (fried to preference)
• Cheese slice: 1 (your choice of cheese)
• Arugula or baby spinach: A handful
• Cherry tomatoes: A few (halved, for garnish)
• Fresh parsley: Chopped (for garnish)
• Pink peppercorns: A pinch (for garnish)
• Black sesame seeds: A sprinkle (for garnish)
Method:
1. Toast the bagel halves until they are golden brown.
2. Fry the egg to your liking.
3. Place a cheese slice on one bagel half while it’s still warm to melt the cheese slightly.
4. Add the fried egg on top of the cheese.
5. Add a handful of arugula or baby spinach over the egg.
6. Cap it off with the other bagel half.
7. Garnish with halved cherry tomatoes, a sprinkle of fresh parsley, pink peppercorns, and black sesame seeds.
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