Synopsis: “I love oreos, but you know that thing after you eat them and your teeth are black and it looks like you’re on some crazy drugs and your teeth are rotting or something?” You snickered at your own explanation and the way Jungkook’s mouth was open agape, eyes squinted as he tried to picture the image you were so unskillfully painting. “It’s annoying, but you still like them. It’s the same for you.”
It was Saturday night, just one of many you had spent with them. The setting of your friendly reunion was nothing special, just the chaotic living room of their dorm. The feast you were enjoying was not expensive wine or exotic cheeses, but coke, chips and gummy worms; and you could have not been happier, stuffing doritos in your mouth until you were about to choke, to perfectly recite the lines of Cypher Killer without stuttering —at least if you did not want to carry a penalty out.
So a while back adventurer generalpoedameron shared with us that they were trying a bunch of different veggies to figure out what they like. You guys responded by sharing lots of recipes with us! It was so much fun. So for April, your quest is to share a recipe with us. Then try and make a recipe someone else has shared. If this works out we’ll all learn a bunch and eat some really good food!
For my part, here is a recipe that’s changed my life on account of how easy it is.
Root Beer Pulled Pork
2 lbs of pork shoulder or butt
12 oz. can root beer
1 (18 oz.) bottle barbecue sauce
Throw all that shit into the crockpot on low for 4-6 hours.
Drain that shit.
Shred it with a fork and cover with your favorite BBQ sauce.
The Bodyguard(M; in progress; co-written by @alittlemissfit) An AU crossover between The X Files and The Bodyguard (the movie). Scully is a bodyguard who is hired to protect Mulder.
Evelyn Samantha (in progress) After giving up William and being on the run for a few years Mulder and Scully settle down and have a couple more children who turn out to be as extraordinary as their first born who finds his way back into their life. (almost to the end)
The Red Haired Woman (in progress) William begins to have visions of a woman who he believes to be his mother. Picks up at the end of season 10 (Post colonization; also almost to the end)
My Sister A series of vignettes exploring Scully’s thoughts on her sister at different big events in her life.
Never Leave (M) - 52) things you said with my lips on your neck
Movie Night (T) - Every Saturday Mulder and Scully have a beer, pizza and movie night
Head (E)- After watching Caddyshack Scully gives Mulder some head.
The neural network doesn’t understand proper nouns.
As the neural network begins to get better at generating cookbook recipes, it continues to have trouble with recipe sources - short and highly varied, they’re a challenge for an algorithm that learns by repetition. Still, it does its best:
Source: Carrots Shared By: Eander Moistly Recipe By : Berrand erroomsterplees Recipe By : Derned SAwaalcaima Submitted by Alsalanne Mc.thebsete Recipe By : By LidienY Pubptite Recipe by: Chef; Texigle The Steamy Fut 18 Cookies" cookbook by Herblen Leg 1994 by Pillian Cooking Broccoli Source: A dark Soup Cookbook by Searsh Leaves. From Millryer Coancy First Warterrip Meltingonais Source: Genter Marjary Witn Abong Source: Cherry Sauce * The Shell Bears Shelled Barbecue Sauce
Anon:I don’t know if I ask here but alright I got this. Can I have some Ushijima and Daichi (separate) headcanons with their pregnant wife? Thank you very much ily
Aww!! Ily too ‘Nonie!
Female pronouns used!
he fainted when you told him you were pregnant, flat out fainted
but when he woke up he hugged you really tight and kissed your belly and your lips
helps you with morning sickness by rubbing your back and handing you a glass of water, and gives you back and ankle messages
is v excited to shop for pregnancy clothes when you start to show
waits outside the changing room with a gigantic smile on his face, getting a few looks from the women walking in and out and carries all you bags
100/10 the most liberal with compliments
tries every concoction that you come up with bc of your cravings, some of the most awful ones that he’s forced down with a smile are; chicken nuggets and custard, onions and vanilla ice cream, rice with brown sugar and barbecue sauce, and salt and vinegar crisps and nacho cheese.
“this is my wife, she’s PREGNANT” “dude, we know, we were there when you showed us the sonograph pictures, and the pregnancy test, and we were there when you showed us your maternity and paternity photos”
beware he will hide all the coffee so you can’t have any, and he doesn’t drink while you can’t
suga and chikara are the second and third fathers to your unborn child
when you into labour you bet your bottom dollar that suga and chikara are up and at your house before daichi has even registered what is happening, screaming about the baby coming RIGHT NOW
over all fun experience and now your child has two godfathers
when you told him he rested his hand on your stomach as he kissed you softly
he will drive you to get whatever food ur craving at 2am
he has a ten step birthplace prepared and ready, the bag is packed before your second trimester
a hand rested on your stomach or on your waist all the damn time
the entire birth plan typed up and laminated and hanging on your fridge. in your third trimester, bc he gets low key worried, he tries to get you to follow the birth plan as a safety exercise - you love him but it’s a bit much
he fixes up maternity clothes?? like this boy knows how to sew?? elastic in everything
10/10 plays volleyball professionally in college and ushijima just like, never talks about you. it’s not so much that he doesn’t want to, it’s that it never really comes up, so you can imagine the media’s surprise when;
“any love in the future for you?” “oh, yeah, i’m having a baby” “uh???? *confused whispering* really??” “yeah, with my spouse.” *more confused whispering*
tendou is the godfather, obviously, and he dotes way too much
the baby has accumulated too much stuff too quickly, such as, two cots, one baby bouncer, mountains of clothes, and a giant teddy bear.
semi was the one who stopped tendou from buying the giant bunny
after the baby was born semi and tendou arrive arms ladened with flowers and balloons and food like, “we heard and we brought gifts, now we wanna hold the baby”
What is your headcanon for Sam's first interaction with Sully?
[ oops I ficced; the prompt was just too good. ♥ ]
“Come on, Sammy! Buck up. We’ll be home before dinner tonight, huh?”
Sam had clung to that promise like a lifeline.
That was three days ago. Neither John nor Dean have contacted him since. All of their protocols have gone unobserved.
Sam has gone from something must be holding them up all the way to oh God what if they’re hurt, or worse? Recently, he’s come to acknowledge that they’re probably not alive anymore. He’s tried to make himself contemplate what he’ll do when they never come back. Pastor Jim’s number crashes around in the back of his head, insistent and sharp as glass, but Sam can’t call. If he does, it’ll make this all real. They’ll really be gone.
He’s fine. He can get through this.
Well. Maybe not with his dignity intact. He’s small for his age and he knows it, but if one more well-meaning adult asks him if she can help Sam find his mommy, he’s gonna lose it.
In the aisles of a dusty, near-dead gas-station, Sam sniffs tears away when he sees two boxes of Mac’n’Cheese on an otherwise sparsely-populated metal shelf, and muffles sobs into the motel blanket behind the door with the “Do Not Disturb” sign on the outside knob.
He doesn’t sleep much at night. When he wakes, gasping, from restless naps, he pushes himself off the bed onto his knees and prays as long as he can, like his faith might bring them back, like God might hear him and answer him.
Monday comes, and he can’t bring himself to eat much. He steals a few bruised apples from a nearby hotel’s half-assed attempt at a continental breakfast and eats part of one but barely manages to keep it down when he starts thinking of Black Dogs, of Dean and John strewn over rocks in the woods, open eyes empty and unblinking while predators feast on their bodies.
He doesn’t manage anything but water for lunch and dinner. Funny thing is, he has plenty of cash. He’s got a handful of dollars sewn into the lining of his jacket for those days when Dean comes home downtrodden and empty-handed from the card tables. He’s heard enough from old women in supermarket aisles to know how to make the dollars stretch: peanut butter on a slice of white bread will fill him up for hours and doesn’t need to be refrigerated.
Even if he doesn’t have access to a stove, he can make do. If he wants to be indulgent, an age-old jar of crystallized honey from a discount-goods store will never go bad. The off-brand sugarless shredded wheat cereal is also filling. He has a plastic bag filled with every variety of truck-stop condiments on the planet—ketchup, mustard, relish, ranch dressing, barbecue sauce—and they’ll work for a salty snack in a pinch, fool his tastebuds into feeling sated while he puts together something more substantial. He has food, knows a thousand ways to get it if he needs to. He just can’t. Not while he knows they could be out there, dead or dying. Not while he’s in this hellish limbo, waiting for news.
On Tuesday, he finds himself dizzy, half-off the sidewalk in front of a speeding red Chevy, when a warm hand closes around his shoulder and pulls him close just as the blocky car zooms past inches away from his sandal-clad feet.
“Oh, Sam,” the voice says, warm like nothing he’s ever heard, and he’s so scattered and grief-torn he doesn’t think to wonder why the person knows his name.
He’s on his butt on the sidewalk, shaking a little from adrenaline and the fact that he didn’t bother with breakfast this morning, and the afternoon sun is bright white and wobbling in the sky. The warmth against him is the only thing that steadies him. A soft hand twines in his and leads him back to the hotel room, retrieving an apple and a jar of peanut butter from his bag and setting a disposable plastic motel cup filled with water on the bedside table.
That’s when he squints into the semi-darkness and sees a shy half-smile, warm and genuine, over a set of rainbow suspenders and a sunny yellow shirt.
Sam kindly doesn’t tell the smiling man that his outfit is weird as hell. The smiling man kindly doesn’t comment on the tears in Sam’s eyes and the way he wipes them on his jacket sleeves.
2 lb chicken wings, separated into drums and flats
Seasoning blend (you may or may not use all of it) - 5 tbsp of each: smoked paprika, cayenne pepper, black pepper, granulated garlic, granulated onion, Indian red pepper, hot paprika, cumin + 2 tbsp kosher salt, + 1 tbsp baking powder
Ingredients for Sauce
½ cup Honey Chipotle barbecue sauce (purchased from Williams-Sonoma)
¼ cup Peri Peri sauce
3 tbsp sweet chili
2 tsp raw honey
½ apple cider vinegar
Preheat the oven to 420 degrees Fahrenheit.
Clean and completely dry your chicken wings using paper towels.
In a large bowl, toss your chicken wings into the coating mixture and ensure that each wing is evenly coated.
Using a baking sheet (preferably with a wire rack), place the chicken wings in a single layer and cook for 20 minutes, flip and cook for an additional 15 minutes.
After the last 15 minutes, remove the wings from the oven, turn on your oven’s broiler, brush the chicken wings with the sauce and broil for 1-2 minutes until caramelized.
Repeat on the opposite side of the wings.
NOTE: using a wire rack helps with the air circulation and ensures that the entire wing gets crispy.
Remove from the oven, garnish with fresh cilantro, and serve.
Let the record reflect that this is all @copperbadge‘s fault.
A typical homemade meal for me is usually:
- Rice or potatoes - Whatever canned of frozen veg I have on hand - A protein - Some kind of healthy fat if I have some on hand (olives, avocado, cashews, coconut milk, etc.) - Seasonings of choice (e.g. all the garlic ever, barbecue sauce, curry sauce, peanut sauce, etc.)
Sometimes there are beans. Sometimes there are chips. Sometimes there is fruit.
One of the most common proteins in my house is ground turkey, and I recently learned to make it super awesome by mixing up a batch of breakfast sausage seasoning.
Well, we had a pack of boring white mushrooms in the fridge that were threatening to mold, and I was like, “fuck it, where is the food processor?”
So yeah. Blendatarian sausage bowl.
The sausage is more crumbly, which is more feature than bug for me. The flavor profile is a little milder, probably because I didn’t increase the seasoning-to-medium ratio. I may have also used more mushrooms than necessary (half a pack mixed into a pound of ground turkey). There was more liquid in the skillet during cooking as well, thanks to the mushrooms.
I usually get about 3-4 meals out of a pound of turkey. I might get closer to 4-5 out of this, though it’ll be interesting to see how well it “sticks” given it’s like 15 calories a cup for mushrooms vs about 240 for turkey, and I am a goddamn bottomless pit.