fat kitchen

The High Priestess is a butch space witch who makes a Fuck Ton™ of moon water every full moon and worshippes Persephone, and The Empress is a fat femme kitchen afrowitch who loves roses and honors every earth goddess. Also they’re dating.


Samin Nosrat has become known as the chef who taught Michael Pollan to cook, after the famed food writer featured her in his book Cooked and his Netflix show of the same name.

Now, she’s sharing her wisdom with the masses in her new, illustrated cookbook called Salt, Fat, Acid, Heat: Mastering the Elements of Good Cooking. The key to good cooking, she says, is learning to balance those elements and trust your instincts, rather than just follow recipes.

An Illustrated Guide To Master The Elements Of Cooking — Without Recipes

Images courtesy of Wendy MacNaughton


I’m experiencing a deep infatuation with all the gorgeous lilacs frolicking in my back yard.  As a token of affection to the spell they’ve cast over me, I’ve started a batch of flower and stone infused salt featuring a cheerful obsidian and lots of lilacs of course!

  The salt has a myriad of magickal and culinary uses.  Stay tuned and either later on this week or early next week, I’ll post a nifty instructional on how to make your own :)

anonymous asked:

prompt: chloe goes to the bathroom and doesnt come back for a long time, beca worried goes to check on her. the rest is up to u but maybe have it set while beca and chloe arent in a relationship yet :) i love me a protective beca

“Beca?” Stacie asked, her eyes following the smaller brunette as she walked back and forth. “Why are you pacing?”

“What?” Beca asked, still walking. “I’m not pacing.”

“You are,” Fat Amy said. “You’re pacing and you keep checking your watch.”

Beca glanced at her watch again without meaning to. “It’s just… Chloe has been in the bathroom for a while.”

Amy and Stacie looked at each other and then back to Beca.

“Okay?” Stacie asked. “And you’re timing her why?”

“She’s really drunk,” Beca said. 

“It’s a party,” Amy said. 

“Yeah but… She’s really drunk. Way drunker than she usually gets,” Beca said. “I’m gonna go check on her.”

She knew Amy and Stacie were laughing at her as she climbed the stairs, but she didn’t care. 

She knocked on the bathroom door.

“Chlo’? You doing okay?” Beca asked. Chloe didn’t respond. “If you want me to go away just tell me.” Still nothing. “If you don’t say anything I’m coming in.”
She counted to ten in her head before turning the handle. “I’m coming in,” she said, walking in slowly. “Still plenty of time to stop me if you aren’t decent.”

She entered the bathroom to find Chloe sat on the ground, her back against the bath tub and her head resting on her arms which were folded on her knees.

“Chlo’?” Beca said, crouching down in front of her. Chloe gave a groan in response. “Are you okay?”

Chloe shook her head without lifting it from her arms so her whole body swayed. “Too drunk,” she mumbled.

“Is that why you’ve been sitting in the bathroom for like half an hour?” Beca asked.

“I thought I might be sick,” Chloe said, still not lifting her head up. “But then I wasn’t but everything was… spinning. So I thought I’d just… stay here.”

“Do you want me to take you to bed?” Beca asked.

“You should’t flirt with me right now Becs, I’m too drunk,” she said.

“I didn’t mean it that way,” Beca said, her face suddenly burning. But then Chloe laughed and Beca couldn’t help but smile. “Come on, nerd,” Beca said. “There’s a line of like fifty people waiting to get into this bathroom.”

“We don’t even know fifty people,” Chloe said, finally lifting her head up to look at Beca.

“Speak for yourself,” Beca said, brushing some hair from Chloe’s face. “I’m very popular.”

Beca stood up and then held her hands out for Chloe to take. Chloe gripped her hands and Beca pulled her to her fight, catching her when she stumbled.

“Why did you even drink so much?” Beca asked, putting a hand around her waist so she could help her walk. “You know you’re a lightweight.”

“Maybe I just wanted to get drunk tonight,” Chloe said.

“Clearly,” Beca said, opening Chloe’s bedroom door and helping her inside. “Is there any reason?”

She sat Chloe on the edge of her bed and the redhead shrugged. “Thought it might help.”

“Help? Help with what?”

But Chloe was looking down at her hands now, a frown on her face.

“Hey,” Beca said softly, “what’s going on?”

Chloe shook her head but didn’t look up. Beca sat beside her.

“Come on, it’s me,” she said. “You can talk to me about anything.”

Chloe shook her head again. “Not about this.”

Beca let out a small sigh. “Okay,” she said. “You don’t have to tell me anything you don’t want to. I’ll go and get you some water.”

She went downstairs and into the kitchen where Fat Amy and Stacie were still drinking and talking.

“You found her then,” Stacie said, watching as Beca filled a glass with water.

“Ah ha,” Beca said, moving her out of the way so she could search the drawer for some paracetamol.

“And she’s okay?” Fat Amy asked.

“Yep,” Beca replied. She was starting to get annoyed at the way they were smirking at each other. As if they were both in on a secret that Beca didn’t know about.

But she knew. She knew why they were laughing at her.

Beca was in love with Chloe. 

Had been for months. A whole year maybe. Ever since her and Jesse had broken up.

Beca was completely aware of this, and she knew the other Bellas were too, but she’d never talked about it. To any of them. So they thought Beca was oblivious, but she wasn’t. She was painfully aware of every agonising moment of being in love with Chloe Beale while Chloe Beale didn’t love you back. 

“I’ll see you guys tomorrow,” she said, not looking at either of them so she didn’t have to see the amusement in their eyes.

She knocked on Chloe’s door before she turned the handle and entered.

Chloe was passed out on her bed, half way through getting changed. Her jeans were still on but her shirt had been discarded. 

Beca signed and put the water and paracetamol on her bedside table, trying to decide what to do. 

She didn’t want to leave her like this. She knew she’d wake up uncomfortable if she left her to sleep in jeans, but she didn’t want to start undressing her either.

“Chlo’,” Beca said, shaking her. “Come on, Chloe, wake up. You need to drink this water and get changed.”

Chloe groaned and furrowed her brow.

“Don’t wanna,” she mumbled.

“Please,” Beca said, pinching the bridge of her nose. “For me?”

“Fine,” Chloe said, making no effort to move.

“Chloe,” Beca said after a few minutes of silence.

“Alright, alright,” Chloe said, “don’t look.”

Beca turned around while listening to Chloe fumble and thud and bump into everything in her room.

“Becs,” Chloe whined, “these skinny jeans won’t come off.”

Beca turned around to see Chloe lying back on her bed, her jeans halfway down her legs.

“Do you want me to help?” Beca asked, and Chloe nodded. “Okay,” she said.

“I’ll pull these off but then you’ve got to drink all that water, okay?”

“‘kay,” Chloe said. 

Beca tugged off Chloe’s jeans and tried not to think about what she was doing.

“My hero,” Chloe said, pulling on her pyjama bottoms. Beca handed her the water.

“Try not to sleep on your back,” Beca said, intending to go back to her own room.

“You aren’t staying with me?” Chloe asked, her eyes wide.

“Do you want me to?”

Chloe nodded.

“I’ll go change then,” Beca said.

She went to her room and threw on a pair of pyjamas before heading back to Chloe’s room. She was relieved she didn’t bump into any of the other Bellas on the way.

Chloe was already curled up under her blanket when Beca got there, and she wondered whether she should just go back to her own room.

“I’m sorry,” Chloe mumbled.

“Sorry for what?” Beca asked, still hovering at the doorway.

“Sorry I didn’t tell you what was wrong,” Chloe said. “I feel like you’re mad at me.”

“Of course I’m not mad,” Beca said. She heard Chloe sniff. “Chlo’ are you crying?”

“No,” Chloe said, in a voice that let Beca know she was definitely crying.

“I’m not mad,” Beca said, climbing into the bed beside Chloe and pulling her into a hug. “You don’t have to tell me anything you don’t want to tell me.” She ran her hand up and down Chloe’s back until she felt her breathing even out. Convinced she’d fallen asleep, Beca gave her a kiss on the head. 

“I like someone,” Chloe said, her voice muffled slightly. “And not in a friendship way. In a… In a I’d like to go on dates and kiss them sort of way.”

Beca felt like her heart had stopped beating. Or was beating so fast it was impossible to discern individual beats.

“Okay,” Beca said, relieved to find her voice was steady. “And do they know?”

“I don’t think so,” Chloe said.

“Do you think, that they could like you back?”

“Maybe,” Chloe said. 

“Is this why you wanted to get drunk tonight?” Beca asked. 

“Yeah,” she said. “I thought I might forget about it for a bit. But it didn’t work.”

“Why didn’t you want to tell me?” Beca asked, not daring to hope.

“I just… It’s hard to explain,” Chloe said.

“Try me,” Beca replied.

“Stacie told me… But I didn’t really believe her… Beca… do you like me?” 

There was a long pause before Beca, her voice barely above a whisper, said “yes. Yes I like you.”

There was another long pause, and Chloe removed herself from Beca’s arms, and lay on her back, looking up at her ceiling.

Beca felt like she was balanced on a knife edge. About to tip into either unimaginable happiness, or complete and utter heartbreak. 

She wanted Chloe to say something, but she was terrified of what that might be.

Surely if Chloe felt the same way, she would have said something by now.

It felt like someone was reaching up inside her, from her stomach, through her chest, and gripping her throat.

“Please say something,” Beca said. 

“How long?”


“How long have you liked me?” Chloe asked. She didn’t sound drunk any more.

“A year,” Beca said. “Maybe longer. I think I noticed it about a year ago.”

“Why didn’t you say anything?”

“I don’t know,” Beca said. She felt like she was going to cry. She didn’t want to cry. Not here, not now. “I think I was scared. Scared that I’d ruin our friendship. Scared that you wouldn’t feel the same.”

“Would you have ever told me?” She asked.

“I don’t know,” Beca said again. “Our friendship is the most important thing to me. I’ve never had a friend as good as you before and I didn’t want to lose you. So… So I guess not.”

“You aren’t going to lose me,” Chloe said, she sounded sad.

“But?” Beca asked. “There is a but, right?”

Chloe looked over at her, tears shining in her eyes.

“Please Chloe, just tell me. I know you don’t feel the same,” Beca said. She was trying to sound calmer than she felt. As if the news that Chloe didn’t like her back wouldn’t destroy her.

“How do you know that?” Chloe asked.

“Because you would have said something by now,” Beca said, blinking back her own tears. “You wouldn’t be looking at me like that.”

“Like what?”

“Like I’m someone you feel sorry for. Someone you’re about to give some bad news to. About to let down gently,” Beca said.

“Beca,” Chloe said, closing her eyes and letting the tears spill over the edge, “I like you too.”

“What?” Beca asked, convinced she’d misheard.

“I like you too,” Chloe said, smiling.

“But you’re crying?”

“Happy tears,” Chloe said. “I didn’t think you’d ever like me like that. And I wasn’t ever going to say anything because, you know, like you said, I didn’t want to lose you as a friend. But Stacie put it into my head that maybe you did but I… I just didn’t believe it.”

“So… so you like me? So the big dramatic pause was just… what? Suspense building?”

“Shock,” Chloe said. “I guess. I needed to process it. I’ve had like a whole bottle of vodka tonight, I don’t exactly have my wits about me,” she said, laughing. Beca thought it might have been the greatest sound she’d ever heard.

The sinking feeling of dread was rapidly being replaced by a balloon of happiness.

“We like each other,” Chloe said.

“We like each other,” Beca repeated. “Now what? A date?”

“Sure,” Chloe said, grinning. “A date.”

anonymous asked:

Hab grad eine Polizeirechtsklausur geschrieben. Jura ist an sich gemein, aber die Klausur hatte ein witzigen Sachverhalt, es ging um pfeifende Murmeltierjunge. Kann ich was mit Tony und einem pummeligen Murmeltier bekommen? Bitte bitte?

Du hast mein volles Mitgefühl. Ich hab Jura nur ein Jahr durchgehalten, und selbst das nur im Nebenfach. Respekt, dass du es durchziehst! Und vielen Dank für dein Ask! Ganz ehrlich, das ist das erste Mal, dass ich mir Gedanken um Tony und Murmeltiere gemacht habe, aber ich habs probiert :) [Die Sachverhalte, die zum Teil behandelt werden, hab ich zugeben auch als das Kurioseste am ganzen Fach in Erinnerung] Ich wünsch dir ganz viel Glück bei deinen Klausuren!

Random silliness lies ahead, consider yourself warned!

Alright lovelies, let’s talk about that time Tony met a pudgy, little groundhog. See, it’s not all that well-known. Maybe because it’s too obvious, too into-people’s-faces to be deemed of importance.

But Tony lives in a tower full of glass and glamour and metal and hidden scanners. Because everything about Tony is glamour and shine. He’s too vibrant, too futuristic, too technology-obsessed for anyone to expect something different.

Never mind that he could live anywhere he wanted. Could have tiny house in the middle of nowhere, where at least he wouldn’t be bothered by people and villains and other pesky annoyances. But he hasn’t. Instead he’s built a tower with his name lit up in bright, shining lights in the middle of New York City because that’s the way Tony Stark does things.

It’s not because he doesn’t like the outdoors. Or small, moving…things. Not at all.

It’s just nice to be surrounded by–not so alive things, you know? Tony doesn’t hate being in direct contact with nature, he’s just more comfortable surrounded by the soothing hum of his tech.

JARVIS might disagree, but who listens to JARVIS anyways? Besides he’s exaggerating. It’s not like Tony wants to erase nature or for all animals to drop dead or anything. Except maybe spiders. And mosquitos. And anything that crawls.

But contrary to popular belief, Tony is not a crazy super villain in the making. He’s not gonna start burning down a forest, even though the midges had it out for him specifically. No matter how tempting it may be. 

Instead he’s dealing with his–dislike like a responsible adult: by hiring the best cleaning crew, improving his roombas, and working a decontamination bottom into the standard safety design of every floor of his tower.

So when, on an ordinary Tuesday mid-morning, Tony stumbles into his kitchen and finds a–a thing furry enough to definitely not be a robot waiting for him, staring at him with blank, black eyes that hold an abyss of soulless nothingness, he can be forgiven for screaming.

Loudly and heartfelt.

Neither JARVIS nor the devil in fur are impressed.

Tony presses the decontamination button.

JARVIS reminds him that protocol commands the process can only start once there are no humans in the room in question.

Tony presses the decontamination button again. (He presses the decontamination button a lot, that morning.)

A lot of arguing follows because JARVIS is too damn soft-hearted for his own good and refuses to call the suit in to deal with this threat to national security (not to forget Tony’s sanity). Until they eventually compromise on calling the closest animal shelter and asking on the best procedure.

Only when Tony turns around–and really, he can’t believe he turned his back on the Intruder for even a moment–the furry monster is gone

He spends the next ten hours combing over every room of his floor in search for the damn thing, but it’s nowhere to be found.

The next morning the Evil That Knows Nothing But How To Evade Tony’s Excellent Security System once again awaits him in the kitchen.

Tony once again screams.

JARVIS sighs a very human sigh.


two months later

“Yo, Stark! Why is there’s a fat groundhog in your kitchen?!”

“Leave Sith Lord alone, Barton, what the hell? He’s not fat, maybe a little pudgy but there’s nothing wrong with that! Hey J, does Patty-Patter still hold those body positivity seminars?”

“I believe Miss Perrington does indeed, Sir. She is also petitioning to hold a seminar called ‘Why Tony Stark Should Not Be Allowed To Nickname His Employers’ if you are interested.”

“Very funny, J. Why don’t you sign Barton up to one of those, hm? And you, Sith Lord, better get out of here before–where did he go?”

queenii-llama  asked:

A thing to think about: remember how in the extra content Bee had a heart attack and andrew was like shook over it ? What about her bf and gf?? Wymack coaxing her to the gym like "I need someone to spot me while I lift weights ;)," and while shes there hes like "try this exercise bike, it's new, what do you think?" and Abby low key replacing everything in all 3 of their kitchens with fat free and low sodium stuff and trying new healthy recipes,, bc they love her and don't want to lose her

okay, but look, Bee knows exactly what they’re doing and is torn between being touched and mourning the candy that Abby’s subtly (it is not subtle, not at all, but don’t tell Abby that) sneaking away. 

at least they let her keep the hot chocolate, which was in fact the result of Abby nervously ranting to Wymack abt Bee eating healthier food and Wymack convincing her to not even try taking away hot chocolate. Abby glares at the hot chocolate every time, though (that is a lie, she tries to glare but ends up just smiling sorta fondly at Bee because they are all s o f t for each other).

and there’s just Wymack … Wymack is trying to get her to exercise and Bee only goes along with it bc she knows that she really scared them. but, like, Bee is the sort of person that is out of breath after running for two secs and can’t do even like one pushup. sometimes Abby goes along just to laugh (also to exercise bc exercise is important and Abby is a Healthy Person) bc Bee hates it so much, despite going somewhat willingly.

tobiseh  asked:

Almost got another write up because I got another customer complaint, BUT, it said something like "On Monday the fat kitchen lady with the blue hair didn't give me my fries, again. The food was also cold and she was rude and unfriendly. This has gone on for 2 months. Please fire her." I haven't Closed or worked Monday in almost a month, and my hair has been purple for 2 months. I think it's the cable guys, but I can't check who's giving the comments so I don't know for sure. Hnngg. 😑