Hi I read your tags on the toast poll and id like to know if I can come over for dinner tomorrow?/j
No but really though holy shit do you have a cook book or something, I want to hear more recipes from you.
Hi ok first of all ily thank you for spamming my blog and sending me this ask- I will always love talking about cooking, I’m genuinely so passionate about it and love talking about my recipes to anyone who will listen.
Second: I have so many recipes I’d love to share!! Yes literally anything!!! Especially Mediterranean, and west Asian food as that is what I grew up cooking- feel free to dm me or like send me another ask if you want it posted publicly idc if my moots haven’t unfollowed me for unironically reblogging Taylor Swift lyric edits they won’t unfollow me for posting recipes lol- I’ve got some pics on my phone I can add to the bottom of this post
Third: ik you were mostly joking with the whole cook book thing but I actually am in the early stages of illustrating a collection of recipes as a narrative about my experiences with nostalgia, love, family, and growing up in a mixed race home and connecting to my culture
I work as a para to a middle school history classroom by day, but I’m college I studied anthropology and did a final research study on second and third generation middle eastern Americans and how cultural beliefs are tied directly to food and how the passing down of food goes deeper than the recipes themselves but is actually preserving and instilling cultural values found in Bedouin populations in the Middle East-
TLDR I am always happy to talk about food, I am working on a cook book (sort of) but it won’t be out for a long long time, and you are always welcome to eat dinner with me- it would be my honor :)
Pics: rainbow tomato toast, sesame tomato and garlic toast, home made vegetable stock, jook , caramelized plantains, ramen, yellow curry, za’alouk, dolmas, fattoush :)
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going absolutely fucking feral. fuck?
I’ve been getting a lot of TERF posts rec’ed to me through the #feminism tag lately. And they’re most often only tagged something like #feminism or #woman, so filters aren’t catching them. And it’s all just… anti-woman and anti-feminist take after take. Like. How have they hijacked the narrative and monopolized the meaning of feminism to be something so reactionary and reductive? They genuinely believe takes like, “women should be forced to abort children” are feminist. BFFR. They just hate other women having bodily autonomy.
I saw one just now where someone was like, “I was daydreaming about men just disappearing”— like being raptured— “and then realized that all women don’t know how to do male jobs and got angry” (and they did say ALL). They then went on to talk about how no women knows how to operate machinery because women have been prevented from EVOLVING to do the same things men do because men forced women to EVOLVE to serve them. Evolved. They were like, “all men could just… build a wood bridge but we women are kept from that knowledge. We have no teachers.”
Further fucking proof that these misogynistic asshats do not build community with black, brown, indigenous, poor, rural, or working class women. They live in a theoretical fantasy world daydreaming about men disappearing and “female separatism” rather than offering real fucking solutions. They live in a world where every last woman has the same lived experience as them. They assume all women are oppressed in the same way. They ignore intersectionality to purposefully minimize ableist, racist, classist, heterosexist, and cissexist structures so that everything is organizable into a simple and universal M > F dynamic. This way, in their chronically white movement, they, the white woman, is always oppressed and never responsible for the marginalization of others.
Oh. And the OP had the label “fascist” in her username. They’re self aware now, but at what cost?
Trans Exclusionary Radical Fascism, everyone:
The patriarchy is inevitable. Change is impossible. We are never escaping this hell hole.
Some other “gems” I saw, TW for racism, misogyny, ableism, and abuse:
The amount of Arabophobia, Islamophobia, racism, misogyny, and ableism I see in the #feminism tag every day is truly sickening. Like 1/4 of the posts anymore seem to be from white radfems sexualizing Arab, Asian, and Black women (while denigrating and singling out typically Arab, Asian, and Black personal-care and beauty practices) while another good 1/4 of the posts seem to be anti-queer. And then some 50% are porn bots with #sissy kinks. The tag has been trashed by bigots and bots, and I’m surprised that Staff hasn’t marked it mature content yet for the sheer level of porn bots using the tag. Oh, wait. I do know why. It’s because Staff employs JKR stans who would rather label #transfemme as mature content than combat the porn bots.
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Baking cookies for F1 drivers after they give you a good wienering(sex)… 
(Thank you tik tok for this idea & @turcott3 for helping)
| OSCAR PIASTRI | honestly he’s confused when you present him with the tray of cookies, thinks they’re for his win but when you tell them what they’re actually for he blushes bright red and giggles.
“Really? For giving you good sex?”
But he’s still very appreciative and makes sure you see that.
| LEWIS HAMILTON | Smirky but finds it amusing, pulls you into a sweet kiss and ends up quickly giving you a reason to bake more.
“Honey I think you’ll need another bag of flour by the end of the week.”
Your home begins to smell like baked goods all the time and anytime he’s craving your cookies he knows what he has to do.
| CHARLES LECLERC | He’s slightly confused but horned. He giggles when you tell him what they’re for and while he does find it slightly silly it warms his heart. Pulls you into a sweet kiss before he eats one and praises you for the amazing taste.
“Almost as delicious as you mon amor.”
| LANDO NORRIS | He gets cocky but also finds it hilarious, definitely throws out some dirty remarks that have you blushing, he uses this to his advantage though and always asks what he can do to get more.
“So how many do I get if I get you pregnant??”
| MAX VERSTAPPEN | He is severely confused, he doesn’t understand what you mean or why you would make him cookies for giving you what you deserve but he eats them nonetheless and tells you how delicious they are.
“I don’t understand Schat, why did you bake me cookies for fucking you good? That’s what I’m supposed to do.”
| LOGAN SARGEANT | Blushes like a school boy, he doesn’t know what to say at first but composes himself and thanks you. Gives you a sweet kiss before eating one, he ends up having the plate gone by the end of the day and he makes his way into your shower later that night with one thing on his mind.
“Can you make snickerdoodles next time?”
| DANIEL RICCIARDO | laughs his ass off for a solid 60 seconds before composing himself and pulling you in for a kiss. He thanks you a thousand times before picking one up for you two to share but quickly gets turned on by the way your lips skim his finger as he feeds it to you and next thing you know you’re bent over the counter. An hour later he comes in to find the oven set at 350 and you whipping up more cookies for him.
“What flavor you makin’ this time?”
| CARLOS SAINZ | He gets so fucking cocky, the second you tell him what you made them for his smirk overtakes his face. He thanks you properly with a quickie before cleaning you up and getting you cuddled up on the couch as he heats up the cookies and gets you both a glass of milk.
“I could get use to these.”
| LANCE STROLL | He’s confused for a good 15 seconds before he starts laughing. He’s very thankful though and horned that you thought the sex was good enough to bake him his favorite cookies. Gives you a sweet “thank you baby.” With a kiss before he splits one between the two of you.
| ALEX ALBON | It amuses him, you’d mentioned doing it to him but he didn’t think you actually would until he walks in to find you plating them. He knew what they were for right away and couldn’t contain his laughter, soon your both bent over laughing.
Once they’re cooled down he devours half of the plate and praises your skill.
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sweet treat 3
In which sexy construction worker!Rafe who spends his days lifting heavy stuff and building shit (his words) and driving shy!reader home has tense shoulders and she offers to help and he's very grateful...
cw: construction worker!Rafe in a desperate need of a massage, fluff, some heavy making out, slight dry-humping, suggestive
wc: 1.4k
this is a part three to this meant to write something cutesy but knowing them it turned into something filthy (who's surprised) hope you enjoy xx
part 4 part 5
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Rafe has had a tedious workday on the construction site. The ardent sun making him melt like ice under the searing yellow rays and the clock ticking as if it was an ancient turtle not helping one bit. Even after he’s washed the sweat and the dirt off and changed into a clean pair of clothes, his shoulders are strained; muscles aching and legs hurting.
Every time he tries to move his limbs into a more comfortable position on his couch his face scrunches up into a pained expression. It makes her furrow her brows, asking what’s wrong with worry painting over her features.
”Nothing, just a bit tense,” he dismisses her, rolling his shoulders back, trying to alleviate the soreness that’s tormenting him; disturbing him from the movie they’re trying to watch as they wait for the casserole he’s made to bake in the oven.
”Oh, I’m sorry. Do you— do you want me to give you a massage or something?” She suggests, wanting to make him feel better.
”It’s fine, don’t worry about it, Sweetheart,” he murmurs, turning his attention back to the television.
”No, but Rafe you’re hurting…I wanna help,” there’s a slight pout forming on her mouth as she takes the remote, pausing the film.
He turns the sapphires of his eyes to face her. The look she’s giving him tugs at his heartstrings and for a moment he wonders what he did to deserve such an angel wanting to take care of him.
”Yeah? Wanna help me?”
She nods.
Then he’s turning around and bending his legs to sit cross-legged on the sofa; presenting his solid back and broad shoulders to her.
”Also, I’ve had some practice but I’m no masseuse, so don’t get your hopes up too much,” she says as she scoots closer, raising on her knees behind him in order to reach his tall frame.
”You give massages to a lot of people?” He asks, teasing, seemingly nonchalant but there’s a part of him that’s eager to find out whether he’s getting special treatment from her.
”No, I just meant when I was little me and my friends used to do these massage therapy circles and we’d take turns. But now I’m a little rusty since it’s obviously been a while,” she explains.
”Good,” is all he offers in response, making something abstruse in her tummy flutter.
She then settles her hands on his wide shoulder blades that lie underneath the white fabric of his t shirt, digging into his skin; feeling the sturdy muscle under her fingertips.
”You want me to take my shirt off? So it’s easier?” He casually suggests and her cheeks heat up.
”Oh— um…yeah, if you want,” her voice does not sound as indifferent as his which makes the corners of his strawberry mouth curl up as he plucks at the collar of his shirt, exposing solid back muscles and soft skin to stare back at her.
She blinks.
Hesitantly, she rests her hands on top of his shoulders once again and begins kneading her fingers into his brawny structure.
A heartfelt groan rumbles from his chest, making her swallow at the lewd sound as she continues to press into the parts that feel the most strained.
”Just tell me if something feels bad or if you want me to focus on a specific spot and stuff,” she murmurs as her thumbs sink into his tense flesh, feeling him beginning to unspool under her ministrations.
He hums out a soft agreement, contentment coating his tone.
However, when she presses into a particularly taut part of muscle tissue, he suddenly lets out a low-pitched noise from the back of his throat, sounding almost obscene to her ears; reminding her of the night they shared a few days ago.
It makes her squeeze her thighs together, trying to drag her head out of the gutter.
“Fuck, that feels nice,” he grunts out, closing his eyes in ecstasy. He thinks she lied when she said that she wasn’t too good because he’s not sure if his shoulders have ever felt this mellow.
He’s practically muddy clay under her tender fingertips and there’s nowhere else he’d rather be right now. He feels so relaxed he could almost fall asleep.
She continues digging her thumbs into his achy flesh for some time until her fingers begin to feel so sore she thinks they’ll fall off if she doesn’t stop.
”Sorry, my fingers hurt, can’t anymore,” she softly apologizes and he turns around to face her again; a lazy grin coating his grateful countenance.
”It’s all good, feels so much better now. Thanks, Sweetheart,” he says while he rolls his shoulders back for emphasis; no hint of any sort of agony in sight.
”Of course, if um— if you need me to do that again, just ask, okay?”
”You’re so good to me, you know that?” Carolina blue is peering down at her with a certain tenderness that makes her feel all fuzzy and tingly inside.
”That was nothing. I mean, it was the least I could do after all the times you’ve driven me home and stuff.”
”I’m serious, you just spent almost an hour turning my muscles into jelly. Let me thank you properly,” he murmurs.
”What— what do you mean?” Her breath hitches.
”What I’m saying is, haven’t been able to stop thinking about you grinding yourself on top of me, you know?” He says as he lifts his left arm in order to tuck a loose strand of her behind her ear; fingers lingering on her jawline.
She freezes, not sure how to respond as his thumb strokes along her cheekbone and he tips her face up with an index finger tucked under her chin.
”Was so caught up in it all, forgot to kiss you…” he drifts off, clouded gaze flitting over her features. “You want me to?”
”You mean…right now?” Her eyes round out, barely managing to shove the words out from the gaps of her teeth.
”Unless, you have somewhere else to be?” The edges of his mouth tilt and when she shakes her head he leans closer, pressing his lips on hers in a tender kiss.
However, when a faint noise of surprise escapes her, he deepens it; warm tongue prodding at the seam of her mouth, coaxing her to open.
When she eventually does, he slips his tongue in, groaning when he can taste the muted sweetness of the vanilla chapstick she’s wearing.
Something that was meant to be soft and sweet turns into something heated and primal as she holds his face in her palms. He paws at her waist, bringing her closer and lifting her to sit on his lap with a steady grip on her hips.
She’s straddling his thighs as his hands travel down to squeeze at the flesh of her ass, forcing her to let out fragile whimpers into his mouth as he continues to swallow her up.
“There we go, Sweetheart. That’s a lot better, yeah?” He murmurs between soft pecks and sloppy kisses.
Their spit-slick lips lock together again and again; her thighs becoming sticky and mind wandering in a hazy vapor.
“Rafe…” she nearly whispers and she doesn’t even realize she’s rutting against the bulge in his pants until he’s grunting, blunt nails denting her skin.
The slight pain makes her whine and then he’s pushing her against his hardening cock firmer, pillowy lips smearing on hers all wet and messy; turning her into a moaning jumble, trying her best to keep up with his hungry mouth.
All of a sudden, completely out of the blue, the timer of the oven begins ringing. It makes her jump in surprise; nearly falling off his lap, if not for his beefy arms holding her upright, not missing a beat.
He lets out an airy chuckle against her swollen lips and presses a few sweetened pecks on them, reluctantly pulling away. His heavy panting fills her ears for a few seconds as she tries to even out her own rickety respiration.
Then he’s gently setting her on top of the couch cushions and standing up on his feet; a disconcerted pout following his movements.
“Shit, better go check on the food so it doesn’t burn, yeah?” He’s sporting a lazy, taunting smile as he offers his right palm to her; lifting her up on unsteady legs that try their best to follow him like a needy kitten as he disappears into the kitchen that bathes under the burnt orange of the setting sun.
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