#also! expect the wheat

[linterteatime]

Gijinka 2.0 of glados my ultimate beloved 💪

rambling and also sketches and stuff i made to come up with the design below:

Not very organized and also not the best pics but idc soo uh glados yeah, well since she is my favorite character ever I have to do her justice so I took the time to slowly come up with things for her design and stuff ( I do this sometimes for other gijinkas but she is probably the one i took the longest so far lmao) sometimes making doodles and being like "oh yeah that could look neat af" and trying it out, nothing insane just me vibin making terrible fashion choices, oh also I have made a glados gijinka before! But like there is barely any posts of her in Here lol, which is funny because I remember drawing her a ton but of course I didn't post that stuff bacj then because I was either lazy or was like "well this isn't worth to post, no one probs cares about this specific thing so whatever" both terrible mindsets of mine which I have gotten better at, but laziness still gets me a lot lmao, anyways I'm happy to have finished making her ❤️

[roberrtphilip]

What is this? Where did you get that?

[thelastwarriornun]

You asked if anyone might send you tanthamore prompts, and I saw you mention that you wish the show had given us a Wyrm temptation vision for Jade-- wanna give that a shot???

Okay this is late as heck, but hopefully well worth the wait!

Also here's the ao3 link!

Jade feels like she’s in a dream. The kind where you suddenly realize you have no idea how you’ve come to be wherever it is that you are. The kind where there’s a faint tug in the base of your skull- the one you never recognize until you wake up. A last ditch effort of the brain attempting to alert you to the illusion around you. Except this can’t possibly be a dream. Right? 

Jade’s eyes flit around the space. Despite visiting only once before, Jade recognizes the tent as Scorpia’s. The interior is too unique to misplace her surroundings. It isn’t that there’s anything distinct. The hut, despite her sister’s status, is simple. A bed, a wicker dresser, and some plants woven between the wood strips that comprise the walls. It’s simple, but vibrant and Jade feels as home in the space now as the first time. Likely more so given the first encounter was prefaced with a knife pressing against her neck, Scorpia’s knees digging into her back, and Kit’s desperate cries filling the air. 

“Jade?” 

A voice eases her from the memory as Kit’s head pokes through the opening of the tent. The version of the Kit before her is a harsh contrast to the version from the fading memory. All wide smiles and windswept hair. She’s unarmed. The thought sets off some kind of internal warning bell, a blaring siren in her mind, but Jade dismisses it. Why would Kit need a weapon? This is home.

Jade’s smile slips into place without thought, full of warmth and adoration, as Kit strides across the room. Dressed in a dark tunic and loose pants she looks comfortable. Jade’s eyes catch on the new cosmetic changes. Additional ear piercings, a matching golden pattern in the shell of her ear, and the black ink barely visible by the collar of her shirt. All begging to be explored by Jade’s touch, but Jade must be familiar with them. The tattoos are clean, free of any markers that would indicate healing, and the piercings are the same. Still. Jade’s fingers itch to tug at the shirt, exposing the hidden line of ink. 

“What are you doing in here? We’re all waiting for you.” Kit’s fingers find hers, threading them together with ease. A familiarity that soothes the thoughts lurking beneath the surface. 

“Sorry, guess I’m just feeling a bit out of sorts is all.” 

Kit’s eyes roll as she presses onto her toes to press her lips firmly against the underside of Jade’s jaw. Jade, whose grin only grows as warmth radiates from the space on her skin. “It’s okay to be nervous.” 

Jade laughs, though at what she isn’t exactly sure. “Why would I be nervous?” 

Kit gives her a skeptical look before tugging. A firm pull being enough to send Jade stumbling after her, through the entrance to the tent, and into the outside world. 

When Jade’s eyes finally adjust she takes in the bone reavers village, though it seems brighter, and less murderous than the first visit. It’s also quiet, the swarms of people absent, save for a long table filling the clearing; the seats already full. It feels less warm without the chatter of the bone reaver clan. 

It’s bizarre, seeing her mother perched on a chair across from Sorsha, both turning to look at them with matching smiles. It’s obvious then, Jade and Kit are a them, not only to one another but to the people present. Kit remains linked around her arm, the point of contact an anchor in a sea of thought that Jade can’t begin to wade through. Her stomach, which had begun to ache with anxiety settles, Kit’s presence a beacon, eradicating any questions or thoughts besides, you’re home Jade. Safe.

“There they are. Doesn’t Jade look so handsome in her uniform?” Her mother comments, but there’s a coldness in her eyes that doesn’t match the warmth of her tone. Jade drops her head to stare at the familiar reds and browns of her uniform. The crest of the knight of galladoorn on a gaudish gold pinned to the front of her tunic. There’s a sword, the same emblem emblazoned on the hilt sticking from her belt. Jade eyes the blade, one she’s no doubt spent months with as if it’s a stranger. Suddenly feeling as if she’s just come into a room, only to forget the original reason behind it. A thorn, embedding itself into her subconscious.

“Looks good on you kid.” This time Jade glances up to see Ballentine seated further down the table. Sitting on her mother’s other side. There’s a sword propped up next to him. Long hilt, no crossguard, a brilliant red. It’s familiar, far more so than the gold and red sword strapped to her waist, and Jade’s eyes linger there. A swirl of want and impulse screaming at her to exchange the blades.

“You sure you’re alright? You’re pale.” A hand presses to her jaw, slipping upwards until the back of Kit’s hand is laying against her forehead.

“Can’t possibly be as pale as you after we pulled you from the lake.” The words escape unbidden, and Kit tilts her head curiously. 

“Lake?” 

Jade clutches for the strands of a memory that fades as rapidly from her mind as the last tendrils of a dream upon waking. Kit. Heat. Falling rocks. Slashing at the surface separating her from Kit. The shadow of Kit’s hand growing fainter; further below the surface. Warm water embracing her. Kit’s weight dragging them both away from the surface.

There’s a tug, a physical one this time, and dark blue eyes are there, full of concern and affection. “Come on, let's sit. I’ll get you something to drink. It’ll help.” 

Jade allows herself to be led, taking up the seats adjacent to Sorsha. Scorpia is there, sitting beside her. The smile she offers is genuine, but even this feels out of place. Wasn’t she upset with Sorsha? Ballentine? Were things truly this simple? Home. Safe. Her inner mantra, losing some of its assuredness.

Jade’s not sure why she feels on edge. On paper this is everything, more than she could’ve ever hoped for. Kit’s there, still holding her hand. She’s a knight of Galladoorn, something she’s spent her entire life working towards. Not to mention everyone’s here, the many faces of the lives she’s lived, collected in one place to celebrate her. It’s the culmination of her lifetime of effort and work. If Jade had ever imagined a perfect life, this is better. So why does it feel wrong? The world feels off its axis, everything is just slightly distorted, a mirror image identical but flipped.

“Who would’ve thought, my daughter, a knight of Galladoorn.” The voice is gruff, and totally foreign to her. There’s no familiar lilt, no teasing edge like there would’ve been if Ballentine was the source. Instead, Jade’s eyes dance up to spot a skull, one that’s haunted many of her days, and even more of her nights.

Kael stares down at her, eyes black behind the high cheekbones of the skull mask. Two swirling circles of darkness that Jade can feel herself sinking into with every second. So her eyes drop, only to find Kit, arm extended, cup in hand. “Drink Jade. You’ll feel better.” 

Jade’s not sure when her free hand had moved to the hilt of her blade. Jade only tightens her grip, knuckles white as they press into the unfamiliar handle with a frown. Why was Kit being so calm? Why wasn’t she? 

“Go on then.” The unfamiliar voice cuts in, gesturing to the cup in Kit’s hand. Kit, whose smile turns less loving, and more agitated as the seconds tick by. Jade swallows hard, grounding herself with the feel of the hilt cutting against her skin. Jade withdraws her other hand from Kit’s searching the unfamiliar expression for a hint of familiarity. The liquid in the glass, a milky, shimmery gold, seems to glow harsher as the mood around them shifts. “I’m okay actually. Stomachs a bit queasy.” 

“Take the cup, Jade.” It’s Kit again, but the voice is entirely unfamiliar. The words are threatening, warning, Kit’s demeanor shifting into something foreign, something Jade’s never seen. Jade bristles, the culmination of the strange events finally arranging in a domino effect of agitation that Jade can’t ignore.

“I said I’m alright princess.” 

A hand grips her forearm and Jade turns to see Scorpia eyes narrowed, lips turned down. “Come on now, Jade. You wouldn’t want to offend your bride-to-be, would you?” 

When she looks back, Kit’s extending the cup, tilting it towards Jade’s lips. 

Jade’s not sure why she does it, but one moment the cup is moving towards her lips and the next it’s crashing to the ground. A puddle of molten orange and gold seeping into the ground. Everything falls still and silent around her. Everyone has stopped to stare at her. Something shifting below the surface of their expressions that Jade can’t put her finger on. 

Lili is suddenly there, taking the place where Kit had been just moments ago. “You know, your girlfriend was difficult, too. I guess you two really were made for one another. It’s too bad you both made the wrong choice. You could’ve been happy here.” 

The words die in Jade’s throat, her body practically vibrating with the desire to act. Do something. Anything. But her limbs betray her, and when she finally looks away from Airk’s new girlfriend she understands. Grey stone is trickling along her skin, expanding to encase her entire body. The vision begins to distort, the people around her shifting into demonic beings, with sharp teeth and red glowing eyes. The reality, a nightmare falling into place just before everything goes dark. 

Jade isn’t safe. This is not home. Kit.

[bartxnhood]

cowboy casanova | t.o

tyler owens x fem!reader

based on this request: “Omg, how about Tyler Owens comforting reader on their first storm chase, maybe she’s really nervous or scared and he’s like don’t worry I ain’t gonna let anything happen to you… something like that???”

warnings: depictions of a tornado, reader has a panic attack. severe damage to homes and buildings.

w/c: 1.7k

a/n: thank you for the request! i added a touch of a backstory to help the plot go forward. i hope that’s okay!! i’m also currently in the theater about to watch it again (i saw it last night lol) enjoy <3

requests open

not proofread

Copyright © 2024 bartxnhood. All rights reserved. This original work is not allowed to be reposted on any platform in any format.

✵ ✵ ✵ ✵ ✵ ✵ ✵ ✵ ✵ ✵ ✵ ✵ ✵ ✵ ✵ ✵ ✵ ✵ ✵ ✵

you see a man standing in a wide-open field, as the sky above you darkened to a menacing shade of gray. the once-gentle breeze turns into a fierce, howling wind, and you feel a sense of unease settle in the pit of your stomach.

you were assigned to follow him and his crew around while they chased these monstrous tornadoes then went in and dissolved the threat. you worked for a huge journaling company from the north, but you grew up in arkansas and became familiar with these devastating weather patterns.

now, you were in oklahoma where you’d be joining this storm chaser during a week-long chase.

“you ready to chase some storms?” his back was still towards you, and his southern drawl was familiar.

as the man in the maroon shirt and white cowboy hat, spun on his heels to face you, you were taken aback.

tyler owens.

“y/n?”

his blood ran cold, not expecting to see you after all of these years. you laughed in disbelief, “this is crazy..” you shook your head and crossed your arms, shifting your weight to one leg.

“you’re the journalist?”

you and tyler go way back. the two of you were in school together, majoring in meteorology.he started chasing these storms, becoming famous on campus.

but, it all came to a head one day when you got trapped and lost your best friend. that’s when you dropped meteorology and took up journalism. you documented the destruction, the path, how they moved, etc.

and now, you were writing about who was called the tornado wrangler. you should’ve done your research but you didn’t want the assignment.

but, he had become so popular with his crew. they’d go inside the twisters and release a mixture to help dissolve the storm. and it worked.

“you’re the wrangler?” you ask, and tyler laughs. that signature laugh that always made you want to punch him in his pretty little face.

tyler turns around and rests his hands on his hips. “what do you see?”

the wind picks up even further, swirling around you in a dizzying dance, pulling at your clothes and hair. you sigh, taking a few steps closer till you are standing next to him.

“there” you point to the east, the air was thick with an unsettling hum as a dark mass loomed on the horizon. the skies darkened further, and a chilling gust of wind whipped up debris and sent trees bending at unnatural angles.

"another one" he murmured, eyes locked on the clouds as his adrenaline spiked and his lips pulled into a smile that he couldn't help but wear every time a storm was brewing.

glancing over at you he tried to hide the excitement in his chest that he felt when one appeared, but tyler knew hiding your feelings from another storm chaser was like trying to hide a tornado in an open field.

"how much do you wanna bet it'll touch down two miles east of our position" he teased, eyes scanning the clouds for clues.

“mm” you shake your head, even though you hadn’t done it in years you still had it. “three.” you continue, then point to the wind and how it carries against the wheat field.

“look at the way the wind is carrying. it’ll go east and hit north. perfect conditions,” you add crossing your arms

“i think you have yourself a ef5.”

uou had it. the intuition to tell where a storm was going to go by only looking at the clouds, the way the winds were blowing, and the speed at which the storm moved.

tyler had a similar gift, every storm chaser had it, but he had never met someone who could predict the size of a storm, which was a rarity he had never seen before.

“ah EF5, huh? i’ll hold you to that. If you’re wrong, you’re buying me a beer.”

tyler owens would be the death of you.

“i’m not buying you anything, owens.”

you load up into his truck, snapping pictures of forming a storm. he was flooring the red truck in a wheat field right towards the storm so he could get ahead of it.

“ya miss it?” he yells, over the thunder. occasionally turning his head to look at you. you say nothing, continuing to snap pictures.

“sometimes.” you blurt, not looking back at him. “i just don’t miss the destruction” you continue, rolling up the window and reviewing the photos.

“you were good,” he says, one hand on the steering wheel and eyes still taking glances at you. “mm” you just hum in response, not wanting to talk about your storm chasing days.

suddenly, a funnel begins to descend from the clouds, growing larger and more ominous by the second. the air around you crackles with anticipation, and you realize that you are witnessing the terrifying formation of a tornado. an EF5.

this was the second time you had ever seen an EF5 form in front of you, this was frightening.

you held onto your camera tightly as tyler drove right towards the black abyss. “shit..” you mumble quietly.

as the rain beat down on the windshield, the engine's roar could hardly be heard above the gathering storm.

tyler's truck sped through the wide-open fields, creating a trail of dirt and dust in their wake. with his eyes locked on the approaching storm, he clinched his teeth and gripped the steering wheel firmly like a man about to die.

he had chased tornadoes before, but never an EF5. the adrenaline in his veins was making his heart race and his senses heighten as he pushed the truck to drive faster, the roar of the wind and thunder in their ears.

“what a beauty” he muttered, admiring the sheer force and size of the storm in front of them.

as your heart pounded furiously in your chest, you felt a sudden tightening of the breath in your lungs.

your mind raced with panicked thoughts, each one more terrifying than the last. you fought to stay calm, but the fear was overwhelming, like a living entity trying to consume you whole.

sweat beaded on your forehead, and your hands trembled as you held the camera. the world around them seemed to blur and spin out of control, like the tornado in front of them.

"tyler, we should go back," you yelled. tyler smiled, eyes fixed on the whirling green giant in front of him.

he yells, "not a chance, l/n. look at it!" as he maneuvers through the difficult terrain. “we can’t give up now!”

“stop!” you proceeded to yell, flashes of that night you lost your best friend. the way the sky looked, how it sounded, the rain on your skin, how cold you were. it was all flashing in front of you, experiencing the whole thing again.

tears brim your eyes, your body shaking like a leaf. “please! just stop!” you yell over the growl of the thunder clapping.

tyler’s heart sank to his stomach as he heard the raw emotion in your voice. he had teased you and challenged uou, but now it was clear that this was not just another storm for you.

it was a personal struggle that was tearing you apart and he had triggered it with his arrogance.

without a word, he stomped on the brakes and brought the truck to a screeching halt, his own heart racing against his ribs.

"y/n, look at me," he said, voice suddenly hoarse and quiet.

you’re gasping for air, pulling at the collar of your crewneck. the cab of the truck felt like it was closing in on you, you unbuckled the seat belt and tried to unlock the door. “i can’t do this” your bottom lip begins to quiver. “i have to..i gotta get out of here.”

you can’t even bring yourself to look at him. your mind is fogged with the traumatic experience of the last time you were caught in the eye of a storm like this.

tyler’s heart dropped as he saw you struggling, your gasping breaths and trembling body. he reached over to her, gently grabbing your wrist, preventing you from opening the door of the truck.

“hey, hey, whoa. look at me, look at me, please.” he pleaded, his voice firm but surprisingly gentle.

he reached out and took your chin, gently turning your head to face him. his eyes searched yours for a moment before narrowing in concern.

“y/n, listen to me. you need to breathe, sweetheart.”

your breathless, unable to think straight until your eyes meet his sea green orbs. you take in a deep breath and mirror tyler’s breathing.

inhale, exhale.

you repeated this until you eventually calmed down.

your hands continue to tremble as you speak, “tyler, i cannot do this. i just can’t.” hour southern drawl escaping. “it’s too much”

tyler watched as your rapid breathing slowly began to match his own, your hand gripping his tightly. his heart ached as he saw the fear and the anguish in your eyes, and knew that this was not just a simple fear of storms.

it was a trauma, something deeply personal, that had left a permanent mark on your soul.

he gently raised his other hand to your face, gently stroking your cheek with his thumb, trying to soothe you. “i know, i know” he whispered, his own tone gentle and soft.

“ain’t nothin gonna happen to you, kay? i won’t let it.” he assures your worries, wiping away the stray tear that escaped your eyes then tucked some hair behind your ear.

“i’ve got you.” he continues. you watch as his attention goes from you to the tornado in front of you. “if you want me to take you back i need to know, now” he says, looking back at you.

you sniffle, following his gaze to the twister.

if he could stop something like this it would be a huge achievement to the community. no more damage, no more homelessness. it would all be fixed.

“no..” you begin, and find your eyes back on him. “i’ll be fine.”

tyler nods, putting the truck into drive. one hand on the steering wheel and the other reaching for yours, giving you a reassuring squeeze. “you’ll be fine, city girl.”

you choke out a laugh, and shake your head.

“then, let’s chase this beaut!” he yips and slams his foot on the gas and takes off towards the monster of a tower.

[vaspider]

If you have celiac or otherwise can't eat wheat, btw, and you like bread, I highly recommend investing in a breadmaker. Even the best store-bought gluten-free bread does not hold a candle to the stuff that comes out of our breadmaker, and it's cheaper per slice even when we buy bread mix in single-loaf bags.

This is our breadmaker. Evie got it on sale, but it is an investment. I'm not going to pretend it isn't a chunk of change up front. There are cheaper ones, but the reason I like this one and think it's worth the money:

It has two smaller paddles, where our older bread maker that my mom got us and got destroyed by getting construction dust in it had one big paddle in the middle. This leaves a big hole in the middle of the finished loaf, which makes the bread much less useful for, like, sandwiches.

Zojirushi is not as well-known a brand in the US, but it's a Brand Name in Japan for good reason. Evie's had our Zojirushi rice cooker for over a decade & we had to replace the inner bowl once bc someone used metal utensils in it and scratched the non-stick coating. We expect to use this machine for at least a decade.

You can program your own cycles, which we found really useful. Evie built a custom cycle that removed the punch-down sections (gluten-free bread tends not to rise as much) and that made our perfect loaf.

A lot of bread machines produce very tall, square loaves, which are awkward to slice, store, and make sandwiches with. This produces loaves that make good sandwiches and toast, and the French toast slices don't crowd the pan.

The top heating element on this gives a really amazingly browned top crust that we definitely didn't get on our old machine.

It's so pretty.

So how is it cheaper in the long run if the machine costs $300+? A little like this:

We use Pamela's Bread Mix bc it's really consistent and easy - you need the bread mix, water, yeast, 3 egg whites, and oil. (We use avocado oil and find it best and most consistent, but regular vegetable oil works!) We buy Pamela's in bulk, and without any subscription discounts or whatever, the $48 pack of 3 bags makes about 11.5 loaves. With the cost of yeast and eggs and stuff, it ends up costing about $4.50 a loaf. (If you buy your yeast in larger bags & store it in an airtight container, you can create less waste and it's also cheaper.)

By comparison, a loaf of Franz GF Bread costs $7-8, and Canyon Bakehouse usually runs about the same.

However, that's not an apples to apples comparison because the Franz loaf is an 18 oz. loaf, whereas our breadmaker makes a 2 lb. loaf. Assuming even the lower-end cost for getting a Franz loaf at the store, an equivalent amount of bread would cost $12.42, and it's not nearly as good.

(Yes, gluten-free bread is fucking expensive. That's part of why I'm writing this post in the first place.)

Anyway, assuming you eat 2 lbs. of bread a week in your house - a breadmaker loaf, basically, to make the math simple - you'll end up spending $7.92 less on bread every week. That means that even at the most expensive cost for the Zojirushi, if you buy it at its highest price (don't do that! wait for a sale!) it'll take 50 weeks - about a year - before the breadmaker pays for itself. If you manage to get it on a 25% off sale (which we did), it pays for itself in about 9 months.

Nine months, I must stress, in which you are eating much more delicious bread.

We tend to go through a couple of loaves a week because toast, sandwiches, and melts are great food for people with low spoons.

Evie and I perfected the Pamela's mix recipe for this particular machine - I'll get it typed up when I'm downstairs next, along with the quasi-babka recipe. (Really, it's like a marble cake and babka and bread had a baby, and it's a family favorite.)

Bread good. The end.

[batboyblog]

Things Biden and the Democrats did, this week #14

April 12-19 2024

The Department of Commerce announced a deal with Samsung to help bring advanced semiconductor manufacturing and research and development to Texas. The deal will bring 45 billion dollars of investment to Texas to help build a research center in Taylor Texas and expand Samsung's Austin, Texas, semiconductor facility. The Biden Administration estimates this will create 21,000 new jobs. Since 1990 America has fallen from making nearly 40% of the world's semiconductor to just over 10% in 2020.

The Department of Energy announced it granted New York State $158 million to help support people making their homes more energy efficient. This is the first payment out of a $8.8 billion dollar program with 11 other states having already applied. The program will rebate Americans for improvements on their homes to lower energy usage. Americans could get as much as $8,000 off for installing a heat pump, as well as for improvements in insulation, wiring, and electrical panel. The program is expected to help save Americans $1 billion in electoral costs, and help create 50,000 new jobs.

The Department of Education began the formal process to make President Biden's new Student Loan Debt relief plan a reality. The Department published the first set of draft rules for the program. The rules will face 30 days of public comment before a second draft can be released. The Administration hopes the process can be finished by the Fall to bring debt relief to 30 million Americans, and totally eliminate the debt of 4 million former students. The Administration has already wiped out the debt of 4.3 million borrowers so far.

The Department of Agriculture announced a $1 billion dollar collaboration with USAID to buy American grown foods combat global hunger. Most of the money will go to traditional shelf stable goods distributed by USAID, like wheat, rice, sorghum, lentils, chickpeas, dry peas, vegetable oil, cornmeal, navy beans, pinto beans and kidney beans, while $50 million will go to a pilot program to see if USAID can expand what it normally gives to new products. The food aid will help feed people in Bangladesh, Burkina Faso, Burundi, Chad, Democratic Republic of the Congo, Djibouti, Ethiopia, Haiti, Kenya, Madagascar, Mali, Nigeria, Rwanda, South Sudan, Sudan, Tanzania, Uganda, and Yemen.

The Department of the Interior announced it's expanding four national wildlife refuges to protect 1.13 million wildlife habitat. The refuges are in New Mexico, North Carolina, and two in Texas. The Department also signed an order protecting parts of the Placitas area. The land is considered sacred by the Pueblos peoples of the area who have long lobbied for his protection. Security Deb Haaland the first Native American to serve as Interior Secretary and a Pueblo herself signed the order in her native New Mexico.

The Department of Labor announced new work place safety regulations about the safe amount of silica dust mine workers can be exposed to. The dust is known to cause scaring in the lungs often called black lung. It's estimated that the new regulations will save over 1,000 lives a year. The United Mine Workers have long fought for these changes and applauded the Biden Administration's actions.

The Biden Administration announced its progress in closing the racial wealth gap in America. Under President Biden the level of Black Unemployment is the lowest its ever been since it started being tracked in the 1970s, and the gap between white and black unemployment is the smallest its ever been as well. Black wealth is up 60% over where it was in 2019. The share of black owned businesses doubled between 2019 and 2022. New black businesses are being created at the fastest rate in 30 years. The Administration in 2021 Interagency Task Force to combat unfair house appraisals. Black homeowners regularly have their homes undervalued compared to whites who own comparable property. Since the Taskforce started the likelihood of such a gap has dropped by 40% and even disappeared in some states. 2023 represented a record breaking $76.2 billion in federal contracts going to small business owned by members of minority communities. This was 12% of federal contracts and the President aims to make it 15% for 2025.

The EPA announced (just now as I write this) that it plans to add PFAS, known as forever chemicals, to the Superfund law. This would require manufacturers to pay to clean up two PFAS, perfluorooctanoic acid and perfluorooctanesulfonic acid. This move to force manufacturers to cover the costs of PFAS clean up comes after last week's new rule on drinking water which will remove PFAS from the nation's drinking water.

Bonus:

President Biden met a Senior named Bob in Pennsylvania who is personally benefiting from The President's capping the price of insulin for Seniors at $35, and Biden let Bob know about a cap on prosecution drug payments for seniors that will cut Bob's drug bills by more than half.

[dduane]

"Serious Stew" report: part the Deux

So, off this post from yesterday:

We put the stew, at a full boil, into the "hay box" last night around 23:30. After I got up this morning I was busy with other household stuff for a little while, and so didn't have time to deal with the stew until about 10:30.*

I was surprised (and pleased!) to find that the pot was still too hot to touch. @petermorwood, who'd also surfaced at that point, went for the oven gloves and pulled the pot out. The above image shows the stew's temperature in ºC just after we took the lid off. Nearly twelve hours after being taken off the stove, it was still cooking; though very low-and-slow.

And here's an indicator of how tender the beef is. (This being a second attempt just to make sure of the result, because I'd just tried a bit and wanted to make sure it wasn't a fluke. It wasn't.) :)

...So now come some further steps before this dish is in the same state it was in when they served it to Herewiss at that inn down in Havering Slides. The meat and veg have been removed from the cooking liquid, which now gets to be first skimmed and then reduced, and its seasoning corrected. (Specifically, the heat quotient needs to be increased—the chilies were calmer than we expected—and other spices intensified too, before it's turned into gravy.)

Also, I have to go make some whole-wheat rough puff pastry. So, time to thaw some more butter and deal with that. Then back to work...

*This, BTW, is one of the great pleasures of exploiting this method of cooking. There's no stress about it. You don't have to have a fragment of your attention eternally spun off to monitor the issue of "Is it overcooking / going to burn...?" because it can't. Let's hear it for the law of conservation of energy...

[boxbug]

A Canary’s Final Flight

My piece for @trafficzine 4th edition! Get it for free here! 200 pages of excellent art and fics, incredible work from all participants and from the mods especially!! huge shoutout to the mods for real

Process notes under the cut! (I struggled a lot so it's a bit of a novel)

So the entire process was a Ride. I knew when I picked this prompt that I was going to have a hard time, because Jimmy’s final death had been illustrated a billion times over by extremely talented artists. But I had a Vision of the snapshot of the second before the impact, when everything is still but you know what’s about happen. It was very much inspired by the clip of Fog by Jabberwocky, bu the thing is, they have the advantage of all the build up of the fall, and that’s when the trouble started.

This was my first version, and obviously it wasn't working. And I was trying so hard, with so many iterations! Small wings, big wings, no wings, different poses, less backgrounds elements. I'd done compositions were everything seemed peaceful but something is Wrong, but it wasn't working this time.

So instead I focused on what rendering I'd like to do - I tried a painterly approach, for that visceral feeling, but it wasn't working either (but hey, I did keep the red sky, so, progress)

At this point I'd been doing back and forths for weeks and I was just as lost as at the start. Now that's my tip for people who make art of any kind, in situations like that, stop thinking about how you can make the best piece possible, and think about you can have fun with it (because when you aren't it's visible). And for that was, 1 - going back to using ink and pen nibs and doing way too detailed inking, and 2- looking at Dave McKean's covers for Sandman (which, funnily enough, was also a reference for my previous trafficzine piece)

And from there I was actually going somewhere! Between the jagged rocks, the red sky, and the increased verticality with the borders, I had hit the vibes I wanted.

I did some experimentation with the border, and even though I really liked the bad boys I drew they were taking too much away from the lonely desolation, so I actually used Red (Unecessary Redstone)'s idea of all of Jimmy's worldy's possessions scattered on the ground post impact, with the idea to make it looks like the central image is his grave being dug.

(and yes for a short amount of time the were supposed to be clock markings on the sun, but there was already enough going with the wings so I scrapped that) (also fun fact the reason why the wings aren't fully material but more ghostly is because my toddler cousin was watching me draw the very first draft and asked why he didn't just use his wings and i went :( so the wings are a metaphor now)

So from there I found a bunch of picture and took some myself, cut and assembled everything together, added shadows in all the appropriate places, and repainted some elements so that everything would look better intergrated (some of the wheats are basically 100% handpainted, the cardboard as well). This took a suprisingly long amount of time, but I was done!

Well I wasn't expecting to have that much to say, but I hope if you're still reading, it was at least interesting!

[fairuzfan]

Hey I am a Sudanese and I want to provide context to why what Motaz said is racist ... (I have to no ill feelings towards him or anything similar ... this is just for education purposes).

1. Attaching being black/dark skinned to being Sudanese. Yes it true Sudanese are "black", but people with dark skin exsist across all the Arab nations ... and Sudanese people have different sade and tone of blackness, you won't find two people with the same "color" in the same household (i.e siblings...etc).

We use different specific terms to describe different skin tone of blackness ... • wheat قمحي • Asmer اسمر• green اخضر •blue ازرق •black اسود.

Attach blackness to Sudanese lead to multiple racist remarks like some can reserve a question "how can you be Sudanese and be light skinned? You are probably mixed right?" .... and multiple portrayal of Sudanese by non-Sudanese actors in media lead to them doing "black face". (For example: ادوار ناصر القصبي في مختلف اجزاء "طاش ما طاش") and (there is a scene in the Egyptian movie "عيال حبيبة" where they meet a light skinned Sudanese person and they end up painting his skin black because light skinned Sudanese do not exist).

I am not talking about South Sudan or the west part of (north) Sudan "Darfur", I am talking about Sudan as whole. Sudanese are East African of course we are "black" (I am not gonna touch the subject of Colorism and tribalism that we suffer as a society).

2. The way he pronounced "Ana Asmar" it sounded like he is trying to imitate the Sudanese dialect by changing the "s" sound to sound like a "z" sound. (It ended up being more like "أنا أزمر" and not "أنا أسمر") ...

First of all: we don't talk like this ... sure some people sometimes change the "س" to "ز" like in the word "nine تسعة تزعة"، but never the word "Asmar اسمر" we say it as it is.

Second: it maybe a reach ... but sounded like a broken Arabic. We are Arabs we speak a normal arabic dialect like any other Arab nation ... (to tell how many times I met Arab for different nations and be surprised that I can speak and understand Arabic... like they expect us to speak in a different language).

This is why what he said in the video is racist and problematic.

Side Note: something related to racism towards Sudanese that unrelated to the video, I am saying this to educate people ... for the love of God عليكم الله when you meet a Sudanese person and know they are a Sudanese for the first time don't say "يعني انت زول؟" ... it is condescending. "زول" means: person/شخص/human it is not a specific term that mean Sudanese it is just a normal word that just means a person. Of course I am a "زول" and you are a "زول", everyone on this earth no matter their nationality/ethnicity/race is a "زول" ... so stop being racist.

I apologise for the long rant.

With love

thank you so much for sharing, i think this is really important for people to read. i really appreciate you taking the time to write this out.

i remember seeing other reasons why people were angry at what he said including how he was laughing instead of asking why the aid was in gaza and not sudan also, making it seem like hes taking the situation in sudan lightly.

[hometoursandotherstuff]

Okay, guys, this is weird. It's clearly a red barn, but it has a castle turret (ok, it's a silo, but it's like a barn castle). This is not a barndominium, it's a bastle. Built in 1995 in Castlewood, SD, it has 6bds, 5ba, and outbuildings. The house is 15,000sq.ft, and comes out to only $29/sq.ft. at $430K. I was not expecting the interior- I was expecting rustic. Check it out.

Very plain, unassuming entrance. Cheap Home Depot Door.

And, then, bam! Gray brick with a fireplace, stairs, walls with interior windows, and balconies. Where the hell am I?

The other side of the great room has plain white walls, a big open balcony, and what looks like brick walls set into the railing specifically for the display of heads. I also see brick columns, beams and a brick wall on the far end above, plus stairs to a lower level. So much going on.

Basically, where there's a railing, there's just an open space for a game room, TV room, etc.

Oh, wow, from this view, there's a marble wall. I have never seen windows w/faux marble shutters, notice the barn doors, as well.

One must wonder who designed this masterpiece. It sure is complex. On the right it looks like 3 steps going up to what, a window and small hallway? There's also a door on the right, and door above.

Here's a view from the balcony area. I guess we can also call it a mezzanine.

Back downstairs, we're in the kitchen. I'm not impressed. Don't like the cabinets or the layout.

Then, here's a way oversized dining room. Note the little shelf above- it has a tiny railing.

I'm gonna say that this is a giant family room off the dining room, and it took me a minute to realize that the "island" in the middle is a hot tub.

So, this must've been a game room. Note the rectangular decorative wall by the pool table.

Then over here there's a TV room that looks like it was decorated by Meemaw and Papaw. I have to say that I hate the furniture- it doesn't go with the funkiness of the house.

It looks like there are patterns on the walls, like wheat stalks going up the stairs.

Wallpaper or some kind of decorative panels up here. There's so much space.

Here's a dark bedroom. The ceiling and walls are so weird.

This large bedroom looks like it's in the silo/turret.

The shape of the ceiling up here is interesting. I don't know what this is- maybe some kind of storage area.

There's a 2 car garage with a large attached barn.

Plus, another very large building attached to the barn.

It's some sort of workshop.

The white building is a whole 'nother house w/3bds, 1ba. Remember, it's only $29 per sq. ft., so it's a lot for the money.

And, this L-shaped building is another huge barn/work space. This could be someone's empire.

Wow, it's big.

2.84 acres of land.

https://www.zillow.com/homedetails/45849-184th-St-Castlewood-SD-57223/2075595228_zpid/

[genshinluvr]

Happily Ever After?

Pairings: Various Princes!Genshin Men x Royal!Isekai'd!Reader (Royal AU-ish)

Summary: There was a small kingdom on Teyvat where a king and queen kept their child locked in a tower for over two decades— the public and other kingdoms do not know what this royal Highness looks like, nor do they know much of this person. However, twenty-seven princes set off to free their royal Highness from their high-rise prison. Maybe you will finally get your happily ever after by finally getting your freedom.

Note: I was supposed to finish this fic last night and had it posted a while ago, but I didn't do that 🥹 I do plan on taking a break once a month instead of constantly posting like how I usually do. There's no specific "date" for these breaks, but it will be a once-a-month type of thing. Other than that, I'm not sure how I feel about this fic, but I hope you guys somewhat like it ;v; This fic is a little bit shorter than I expected it would be, but it's better than nothing— it's not a mini-fic. Yes, all Genshin men are princes no matter who they are and what age they are. Anyway, I don't post anywhere else but on Tumblr (Genshinluvr) and on AO3 (Aaliah_exo).

Warnings: None that I know of

Word Count: 5.6k

Once upon a time, there was a kingdom ruled by a king and queen. The king and queen have a child, locked in a tower, never allowed to see the light of day. No one knew what the young royal looked like, nor did they know much of the child’s existence. Nor did they know why the king and queen kept them locked up. It could be for their protection, or the king and queen despise their child. While the kingdom was reminded of the existence of the king and queen’s child annually, the thought of the young royal was a fleeting thought. A little over two decades later, the tower where the child of the king and queen soon has many curious explorers try to climb up the structure to see the face of the mysterious royal. The same face no one is familiar with, the same face no one in the public eye has ever seen, and the same face twenty-seven men are curious to see. 

PRESENT DAY— Location: Unknown.

Twenty-seven men, also princes, crowd around the lone tower in a remote area of a small kingdom. The tower is far from the kingdom, far from civilization. It makes the men wonder how in the world the child of the king and queen is able to survive while kept far from humanity. The gray-bricked tower is fifty meters tall with purplish-pink barrel roof tiles. There is a singular window at the very top of the tower, accompanied by a balcony with a flower pot hanging from the ceiling. 

Prince Childe props his hands on his hips, staring at the balcony intently. “Well, gentlemen. Today is the day where we rescue the child of the king and queen of this small kingdom,” says Prince Childe, turning to look at the other men with determination. 

“Are you sure this is a good idea?” Prince Gorou nervously asks, watching Prince Diluc pull a rope from a leather rucksack. 

The rope is long enough for the twenty-seven men to use as leverage to get to the window of the tower. Prince Diluc ties the rope and begins swinging the rope, scanning the towering building.

Prince Venti plops beside the leather rucksack, resting his head on the bag as he crosses his right leg over the other with wheat sticking from his lips. “Yer sure the rope is sturdy for the twenty-seven of us?” Prince Venti asks, chewing on the end of the wheat.

Prince Zhongli rolls his eyes, crossing his arms over his chest as he stands beside Prince Diluc, helping the redhead secure the knot. “Twenty-six. You’re not coming with us,” Prince Zhongli states.

Prince Venti sits up, gazing at the brown-haired Prince incredulously. Prince Zhongli turns away and continues to assist Prince Diluc. Prince Venti stutters, getting off the ground and stomping toward Prince Zhongli.

Prince Xiao glares at Venti and lightly pushes Prince Venti away from Prince Zhongli. “You stay down here and make sure no one comes. That’s the only thing you’re useful for,” Prince Xiao states, rolling his eyes.

Not wanting to start any more problems, Prince Venti grumbles and walks back to the leather rucksack and plops down beside it. While the twenty-seven princes (yes, they are all princes. There are no kings, emperors, dukes, lords, sirs, etc.) collectively agree to save the king and queen’s unknown child, they cannot stand each other’s presence. Especially Prince Zhongli and Prince Venti— the two princes are from rival kingdoms. 

Many people may wonder why the princes are working together to climb the tower when most can’t stand each other. They all share the same agenda, and that is to rescue the poor young royal from the tower the king and queen have locked their kid up for most of their life. It makes the twenty-seven men wonder how you, the mysterious royal, survive without human contact for so long. Every man is aware of your existence, and they’re all curious about who you are and why your parents decide to keep you away from the public eye. It’s not easy to keep someone of a high profile away from the limelight for over two decades. 

Prince Ayato props his hands on his hips, staring at the rope with scrutiny. “Are you certain this rope is sturdy? It won’t rip if every one of us is climbing up the tower using this rope, will it?” asks Prince Ayato.

“We’ll be fine, Prince Ayato! Chillax, my bro! I know it seems scary, but as someone who has done this plenty of times, we’ll be okay!” Prince Itto says, roughly patting the refined Prince of Inazuma on the shoulders. 

Prince Ayato sighs, rolling his eyes before giving the tall prince a small smile. While Prince Itto and Prince Ayato aren’t as close, the two would meet up from time to time to have a beetle fight. It’s a small game the two would have with each other— mostly initiated by Prince Itto, the carefree prince who gets into a lot of trouble but is always off the hook due to being a prince. 

“How are we going to get this rope to hook around that balcony? With our weight combined, I don’t think the railing of the balcony stands a chance,” Prince Kaveh sighs, tapping his foot on the ground.

Prince Wriothesley laughs and steps forward. “Gentlemen, I got this! Leave this to me, Prince Wriothesley of Fontaine,” says Prince Wriothesley, grabbing the rope from Prince Diluc’s hands and beginning spinning the rope, aiming for the balcony. 

While the princes are outside trying to get the rope to latch onto the balcony, the door to the bedroom in the tower swings open. Enters a young royal, yawning and rubbing their eyes. There’s nothing else to do in the tower except to read and sleep. You look at the clock on the wall and roll your eyes. It’s only two in the afternoon, and you’re already forced to retreat to your bedroom by one of the servants your parents assigned. 

“I’m rotting away in my high-rise prison,” you mumble, plopping on your bed and hugging your pillow before flipping over on your back. 

You have been locked away in your tower for as long as you can remember. You rarely step out of the tower. You never walk around the castle your parents reside in. Heck, you never stepped foot in that damn castle! Most importantly, you have never communicated with anyone outside of your prison aside from your parents. Your parents— the king and queen— tried to reassure you they love you and that they’re doing this for your safety, but you don’t believe them.

You toss your pillow to the foot of your bed and close your eyes. “One day, my prince will rescue me from my tower,” you whisper, dozing off.

Meanwhile, outside the tower, the men cheer loudly when the rope latches onto the railing of the balcony. Prince Wriothesley tugs on the rope, testing its durability. Prince Cyno and Prince Albedo collectively pull at the rope, nodding with approval. 

“The rope is sturdy. It doesn’t seem like it will snap under intense pressure,” says Prince Albedo, dusting his hands.

Prince Cyno shields his eyes from the sun, looking at the other men. “Alright, gentlemen. Shall we rescue their royal highness from their tower?” asks Prince Cyno, the corners of his lips quirking up.

The men grab the rope, and Prince Diluc starts climbing up the rope, mentally praying to the Archons the rope wouldn’t snap under immense weight. After all, over twenty people are climbing up the rope— just as long as the rope doesn’t break, sending everyone tumbling to the ground. 

Prince Aether wipes the beads of sweat forming at the base of his hairline. “You guys are certain this rope isn’t going to snap?” asks Prince Aether, looking at the other men worriedly.

“Relax, Prince Aether! This is the sturdiest rope to exist in Teyvat. Do you really think the rope is going to snap that easily?” Prince Thoma asks, nudging Prince Aether lightly with his elbow. 

Prince Scaramouche rolls his eyes and climbs up the rope, making sure to listen for the sounds of tearing and snapping. So far, there aren’t any noises from the rope— thankfully. Prince Scaramouche wants to get this over with and find out who this mysterious royal highness is. The same royal highness the king and queen of whatever kingdom is hiding from the public eye. 

“Does anyone find it strange how the king and queen were able to keep the identity of the young royal highness hidden for so long? How was their identity not leaked?” Prince Kazuha asks, tightening his grip on the rope as he climbs up the tower. 

Prince Heizou shrugs. “It is strange. It’s impossible to keep your child out of the limelight as a public figure, especially if your child is part of the royal family. I understand if the young Highness is still young. However, it’s been a little over two decades, and no one has caught a glimpse of what the royal Highness looks like,” Prince Heizou mutters, stroking his chin.

The men proceed to climb up the tower, eyeing the rope around the balcony’s railing. The railing is somehow managing to hold up over twenty people climbing the tower. It’s both a relief and a worry how the fence has yet to break under a lot of weight. After what felt like two hours, Prince Diluc reached the balcony and climbed over it, sighing in relief. The balcony is surprisingly bigger than he expected. 

“Where do you think this leads to? Their royal Highness’s bedroom?” Prince Kaeya asks, dusting his clothes.

Prince Diluc crosses his arms over his chest, glaring at Prince Kaeya. “Even if it does, do not put your hands on them,” Prince Diluc instructs sternly.

Prince Scaramouche rolls his eyes. “Relax, Prince Diluc. None of us are interested in touching the mysterious royal Highness,” he says.

Prince Al Haitham grabs the door handle of the balcony entrance and slowly turns the knob. To his and everyone’s surprise, the door is unlocked. Prince Al Haitham cracks the door open and slowly enters the tower, the men tip-toeing behind him. The men collectively freeze when they realize they’re in your bedroom. The bedroom is furnished with elegant, luxury furniture. But despite the luxurious furniture around the room, the room looks barren. 

“Is that who I think it is?” Prince Tighnari whispers, gesturing toward the bed.

Prince Al Haitham takes a step closer to the bed and peeks at your face. Prince Al Haitham nods and turns to the others. “I believe this is their royal Highness the king and queen have been hiding for two decades,” Prince Al Haitham whispers.

The Princes walk around your spacious bedroom, looking around curiously. Bookshelves lined up against the wall, and a fireplace nestled between the two tall bookshelves. In the corner are a small vanity and an easel. The room is filled with many activities for you to keep yourself occupied while locked in a tower for two decades.

“What should we do? Wake them up?” Prince Pantalone asks, standing at the foot of your bed, staring down at your unconscious body.

Prince Dottore shakes his head. “I don’t think it’s best for us to wake them up from their slumber. It’ll freak them out and call for security,” Prince Dottore mutters, walking over to the door and pressing his ears against the wooden door.

The masked Prince grabs the doorhandle and twists it, only for it to become stuck. Prince Dottore furrows his eyebrows and looks at the doorknob. There’s no lock from the inside, and yet the door isn’t budging. Did they lock you in the room by any chance? Prince Dottore jiggles the doorknob to double-check, and he’s correct. The door is certainly locked from the outside, and even if you want to escape, there’s no way for you to leave the room aside through the balcony. 

Prince Capitano chuckles bitterly, shaking his head. “I don’t think their royal Highness will be calling for security,” Prince Capitano comments, looking at the pictures hanging on the wall.

“I think we should give Their Royal Highness a kiss on the lips!” Prince Venti says, throwing his legs over the railing of the balcony and strutting into the room.

The men look at each other before looking over at the short Prince, who scans around the bedroom of the tower, whistling lowly. Prince Zhongli growls lowly and pinches the bridge of his nose, trying to remain calm and not explode. 

Prince Baizhu smiles at Prince Venti, tapping his fingers on his hips. “Prince Venti, what are you doing here? Shouldn’t you be watching and making sure there aren’t people approaching the tower?” Prince Baizhu asks.

“I knew we shouldn’t have invited him along with us. This dunce never listens when given orders,” Prince Dainsleif rolls his eyes.

Prince Venti gives the men a shit-eating grin, plops on the chair beside your bed, and stares at your sleeping face with awe. Prince Venti could stay outside and keep watch, but he doesn’t want to. Prince Pierro rubs the bridge of his nose, letting out a long, sharp exhale. The older man looks at Prince Venti, clenching his jaws.

“I am trying my best not to strangle you right now, Prince Venti,” Prince Pierro hisses.

Prince Neuvillette hums, closing his eyes. “Aren’t we all?” Prince Neuvillette chuckles bitterly, shaking his head.

Prince Venti smirks and sticks his tongue out at the other men in the room before peeking over at you. Your chest is rising and falling at a steady pace, letting him know you’re in deep sleep. While the men aren’t sure how long you have been asleep, they need to wake you up soon to rescue you from the tower. Prince Childe stands at the foot of your bed, hands propping on his hips as he stares at your face.

“They’re kind of cute! I can see why their parents locked them away in the tower for most of their life!” says the ginger-haired prince of Snezhnaya.

The men are surprised you have yet to wake up due to the amount of talking going on in your room. At first, they were whispering, but since some of them weren’t whispering, you didn’t bat an eye when each person spoke. 

Prince Itto scoffs. “Kind of? They’re very cute! I don’t know what you mean by ‘kind of,’” says Prince Itto, gesturing air quotes with both his index and middle fingers.

“How do we wake them up without freaking them out?” Prince Aether asks, scratching his head as he peeks from Prince Venti’s head.

There are many ways the twenty-seven princes can wake you up from your slumber. Either the normal way and that is to gently shake you from your sleep, or they can not wake you up. By that, one of the men can scoop you up in their arms and climb out the window with you! But the men aren’t sure how much of a heavy or light sleeper you are, so that can be a bit challenging. 

Prince Venti claps his hands, startling the others. “We can do it in a way every fairy tale book does it! Like Snow White, for example!” Venti exclaims, crossing his arms over his chest with a smug look.

Prince Neuvillette raises his eyebrows at Prince Venti, gazing at him skeptically. “Care to elaborate on that, Prince Venti?” asks the Fontainian prince. 

Prince Heizou raises his hand. “I believe he is referring to the famous kiss of life. While it happened in Snow White, it also happened in the fairy tale Sleeping Beauty,” Prince Heizou interjects. 

Kiss of life, huh? While it sounds romantic, it doesn’t seem to be the appropriate thing to do, given that you weren’t poisoned or cursed with eternal sleep until your true love kisses you, bringing you back to life. Plus, it’s not a good idea to kiss someone you met less than thirty minutes ago— especially when they’re sleeping.

Prince Zhongli glares at Prince Venti and Prince Heizou, crossing his arms over his chest. “Kissing someone without their consent and while unconscious is very distasteful. If you dare to touch them in such a way, I will bring hell on Teyvat,” Prince Zhongli thunders. 

Everyone in the room flinches when Prince Zhongli raises his voice at the two princes. The sound of blanket ruffling and a soft exhale causes every man to freeze in the room. Prince Al Haitham turns to see you moving around on your bed, groaning softly and rubbing your eyes. Prince Ayato sighs, running his hands through his hair. Bouncing with excitement, Prince Itto, Prince Childe, and Prince Venti lean over you.

Prince Ayato rolls his eyes. “Don’t lean over them like that. You’ll freak them out,” Prince Ayato hisses quietly. 

Unable to fall back asleep, you open your eyes to see three unfamiliar faces staring down at you. Your eyes widen, and you punch the closest person to you. Prince Venti yelps and backs away, clutching his nose, while Prince Itto and Prince Childe back away. You sit up and look at the unwanted guests with fear.

“Who are you people, and why are you in my room!?” You screech, holding your pillow in front of you, using it as a shield.

Prince Gorou shakes his head rapidly, waving his hands in front of him. “Please don’t scream! We’re here to rescue you!” Prince Gorou explains, peeking at the door to make sure no one hears what’s going on.

Your bottom lip quivers as you plop over to the side, hugging your pillow tightly. If this is how you die, then you accept your fate with open arms. You don’t want to die. You really don’t want to die, but if it means you’ll finally be free from your high-rise prison, then you accept your fate. 

Prince Kazuha clears his throat. “Your Highness, are you alright?” Prince Kazuha asks softly, debating if he should approach you or not, fearing he would scare you even more.

You bury your face into your pillow. “If you’re here to kill me, just do it! I accept my fate and am willing to let you all kill me like a pig in a slaughterhouse,” you say dramatically.

Your room plunges into a tense silence. You peek from your pillow to look at the intruders, waiting for their response. The men are shocked and a little offended that you assumed they would harm you. Prince Kaveh clears his throat to grab your attention and steps forward cautiously, not wanting to scare you. You sniffle and sit up, hugging your knees to your chest while gazing at the men warily. Prince Kaveh smiles at you, tucking his blond hair behind his ear.

Prince Kaveh kneels on one knee, placing his right hand over his heart. “Your Highness, we’re not here to kill you. We’re here to rescue you from your tower,” Prince Kaveh explains.

“Rescue me from my tower? How are you guys going to do that without getting caught?” You ask.

The men look away, rubbing the back of their necks. You blink at them and look over at your bedroom door. You slowly get off your bed and walk toward the door to test out the door handle. The doorknob doesn’t budge, letting you know they did not enter your room through the door like a normal person. 

“How did you—”

“We entered through your balcony,” Prince Xiao interrupts, pointing at the balcony door that’s wide open.

Prince Kaeya chuckles, adjusting the eyepatch. “Perhaps this is a reminder for everyone to lock your doors and windows,” says Prince Kaeya.

You shake your head and walk to the vanity, plopping on the stool and running your hands through your hair. You want to escape the tour with these strange men, but how are you going to do that without causing a scene? You can either leave with these men and never look back or remain at the tower, never see the light of day other than through the balcony window. Who are these men anyway?

Your parents made sure you don’t fall behind on your education— they hired the top university professors in the world to teach you many subjects, but they never mention other important figures. Well, those who are alive, of course. You take a deep breath and stand up, facing the twenty-something men. Wait, how many people are there? You start counting heads quietly, pointing at each man as you do.

Twenty-seven men stare at you while you count how many people there are in your room. After counting, you nod and clasp your hands together. “Alright, I don’t think we’ve introduced ourselves to one another. Judging by your attire, you all are important people,” you say.

Prince Diluc raises his eyebrows at you. “Do your parents not tell you who each of us are? Or about our regions and kingdoms?” asks Prince Diluc.

You squint at Prince Diluc, stroking your chin while shaking your head. Why would your parents tell you who these men are? Kingdoms and regions, huh? So not only are they important people, but they come from the kingdoms that rule the seven nations. Your parents could care less about informing you about the current reigning monarchs of each region because they assumed you wouldn’t meet anyone from the seven regions.

The men start introducing themselves and saying what regions and kingdoms they’re from while you try to remember the names of each face. After ten minutes, every man has introduced themselves to you, and now it’s your turn. You’re not sure what to say— do you even introduce yourself as a member of the royal family, or do you present yourself as who you are? I mean, you are part of the royal family, but you’re never seen with them, nor are you seen out in public because you’re not allowed to step foot out of the high-rise prison.

“Nice to meet you all. My name’s [YN],” you introduce yourself.

Prince Thoma gazes at you with wide eyes before looking at the others. “Your Highness, you’re not going to introduce yourself as—”

You shake your head. What’s the point of introducing yourself as the child of the king and queen? The men look at each other, not saying a word. It’s not like you don’t want to introduce yourself as the child of the king and queen. The public and other kingdoms have never seen your face, and if you were to introduce yourself as whatever title within the monarchy, people would assume you’re pretending to be something you’re not. 

You clear your throat. “Are we all going to stay here, or are we going to leave? I’m worried the servants are going to pop in to check on me only to see me with twenty-seven uninvited royal guests,” you say, crossing your arms over your chest. 

The men nod and usher you toward the balcony. You peek over the balcony and see an uncomfortable drop. You turn to look at the others, propping your hands on your hips. There’s no way in hell you’re going to climb down this easily. You’re willing to leave, but if it has anything to do with heights, you’re not going to be on board with it. Maybe that’s why your parents put you in a high-rise prison instead of a dungeon. 

“Is there a problem, Your Highness?” Prince Dainsleif asks, peering over the balcony before looking at you with worry.

You nod hesitantly. “Yes, but I don’t think we have time to worry about my worries right now,” you say, reaching for the rope, only for Prince Albedo to snatch it from your hands.

Prince Albedo sighs and shakes his head. “Your Highness, if you’re not comfortable with climbing out the balcony and down the rope, we can have someone carry you down,” Prince Albedo suggests.

Not wanting to waste time, Prince Al Haitham scoops you in his arms and throws you over his shoulders before grabbing the rope and climbing over the railing of the balcony. You squeeze your eyes shut and wrap your arms around his torso tightly as Prince Al Haitham descends with you over his shoulders. The others follow after Prince Al Haitham climbs down the tower. Prince Tighnari closes the balcony door before making his way down the rope.

“Okay, so you have successfully rescued me from my tower…” You trail off, continuing to cling onto Prince Al Haitham’s waist. “What’s going to happen after this? Do I live as a regular citizen now? Do I live in someone else’s kingdom? Are you guys going to take me to my parents' kingdom?” You ask.

Once everyone made it down the tower, Prince Wriothesley yanks the rope from the railing before wrapping the rope and storing it in the leather rucksack. You wiggle your feet in the grass and pause, only to realize you don’t have shoes on, nor do you have shoes on your person. You sigh, pinching the bridge of your nose. 

“Is there something wrong, Your Highness?” Prince Wriothesley asks, approaching you.

You press your lips into a thin line. You don’t want to be a burden if you tell them you don’t have shoes on— how could you forget to wear shoes? Then again, you rarely leave the tower, so shoes weren’t a necessity for you. 

“Did you forget something, Your Highness?” A suave voice asks.

You turn to see a shorter male leaning against the tower. You blink at the man and turn to the other princes behind you. There are twenty-seven of them, but who in the world is this man? Prince Cyno and Prince Baizhu trade looks before looking at the approaching man. The man pulls your shoes out of thin air before dropping down on one knee, helping you put your shoes on. The princes around you mutter to themselves while watching the man before you put your shoes on your feet before standing up. The man bows gracefully, tips his hat forward, and winks at you with a smirk.

“If it weren’t for me, you would be parading around the nation barefooted,” says the mysterious man.

Prince Cyno sighs, crossing his arms over his chest. “Prince Lyney, I did not expect to see you here,” says Prince Cyno.

Another prince? How many princes are there in Teyvat? Prince Lyney smiles at Prince Cyno and waves at him with a wide smile. At least you don’t have to worry about walking around barefooted. It’s still early in the afternoon, and your fate after leaving the castle remains a mystery. If your parents know you managed to escape the tower, who knows what they will do aside from having a search party for you. You love your parents, you really do! But you don’t see them as often as you see the servants at the tower.

“Where are we going to take their Highness,” asks Prince Scaramouche, crossing his arms over his chest.

The men fall silent and look at each other. You prop your hands on your hips and sigh. These men did not think this through. While it’s nice to be rescued, you don’t want to be seen outside of the tower if there isn’t a plan after the rescue portion of the plan. Even if the majority of the public has no idea what you look like, it’s better to be safe than sorry.

Pantalone strokes his chin. “We’re going to take you to another nation. Far away from where your kingdom and tower reside—”

You cut him off. “And have you all decided on what nation I’m going to be smuggled into?” you ask.

“That we do not,” Dottore says, shaking his head.

You visibly deflate, sighing in defeat. You’re okay with being smuggled into any nation! However, these men not knowing what nation they wanted to smuggle you into is sort of a problem. 

Prince Tighnari smiles at you sympathetically and pats your head. “Do you have a preference?” asks Prince Tighnari.

You shake your head. “Not really, no,” you reply. You look around, making sure there’s no one listening in on your conversation. “Let’s get moving before one of the servants catches us out here.”

Prince Capitano, the masked (helmeted?) prince of an unknown nation, leads the way away from the tower. You look over your shoulders at your high-rise prison one last time before turning back around. You hope if your parents have a search party over your disappearance, they will never find you. 

Even if your parents know what you look like, the entire nation and the entirety of Teyvat have no idea what you look like. So, that makes you wonder how your parents are going to have a search party for you if the entirety of Teyvat (aside from a selected few) has no idea what you look like. To be honest, just thinking about it makes you a tad bit nervous about what’s going to happen in the future.

“Something on your mind, Your Highness?” asks Prince Capitano.

You shake your head and rub your temples. “No, no, not really. Although I am starting to get a headache,” you sigh.

You’re not lying when you say you’re starting to get a headache. The back of your head is throbbing, and it makes you want to drop everything and take a nap. Prince Baizhu steps up and points at the large tree in the distance.

“Get underneath the shade of the tree, and I’ll conduct a health check-up before we continue our journey,” Prince Baizhu instructs.

Prince Pierro scoops you up in his arms and carries you to the shade. It’s warm outside, but not uncomfortably warm. It's just warm enough for you to not overheat or break out in sweats. Prince Pierro sits you down at the base of the tree and has you lean against the tree trunk. You tilt your head back and look at your surroundings. There are so many trees around you that it shocks you— not because of the number of trees, but because your parents kept you in a locked tower with a few servants for most of your life, surrounded by nothing but vegetation.

Prince Baizhu does a small check-up on you, handing you a bottle of water from the rucksack Prince Diluc was carrying. The green-haired prince starts massaging your temples while you close your eyes with contentment. 

Prince Al Haitham looks around, making sure no one is following your group. “If you don’t mind me asking, how do the servants treat you at your tower?” asks the gray-haired prince.

You crack your eyes open and look at Prince Al Haitham. “They treat me okay. I’m not allowed to leave my room unless I need to use the bathroom. They bring food to my room along with medication if I’m sick,” you reply.

The men stare at you in disbelief. From what you told them, it doesn’t sound like a comfortable lifestyle for you. Yes, they didn’t mistreat you, but you weren’t allowed to leave your room unless it was necessary. Heck, you weren’t allowed to leave your bedroom to get food. The servants bring food to your room and leave, locking the door behind them.

Prince Pierro sighs, shaking his head. “Sounds like they’re treating you like a prisoner,” Prince Pierro mutters.

“Do you know why your parents keep you locked up in the tower by any chance?” Prince Gorou asks, sitting beside you.

You shake your head. “Aside from wanting to protect me, not really. Whenever I ask them, they would brush it off or change the conversation.”

Now that you think about it, you never knew the actual reason why they kept you locked up in the tower. Your parents wanted to keep you away from the limelight, and to protect you could be an excuse for something else. 

“Well, whatever their reason is, it’s not good enough. The best thing we can do is—” Prince Tighnari freezes, his ears twitching.

Prince Ayato looks at Prince Tighnari worriedly. “What’s wrong?”

“I hear sirens from a distance,” Tighnari whispers.

Your eyes widen, and you push yourself off the ground. “Oh no,” you whisper. 

“The siren is coming from the tower,” Prince Zhongli mutters. 

You and the twenty-eight princes are in the middle of nowhere in the forest. As Prince Zhongli said, the only thing that could have sirens is the tower. Prince Zhongli grabs ahold of your wrist and carries you bridal style before running with the other princes in tow.

“What’s going to happen if we get caught? I can’t go back there! I refuse to go back to the tower,” you say, gripping the sleeves of Prince Zhongli’s coat tightly.

“We won’t get caught, Your Highness! We’ll make sure you don’t return to the tower,” says Prince Neuvillette.

You and the princes can’t possibly be caught, right? The only people (aside from you and the twenty-eight princes) are the servants. There aren’t guards around the tower unless it’s a monthly security check at the tower ordered by your parents. You can’t go back to the tower, you can’t! You refuse to go back there! The possibility of you returning to the tower is fifty-fifty, and if you were to be forced to return to your high-rise prison, chances are, the security is going to be tight, and you will be under constant surveillance. So much for a happily ever after.

Note: Before anyone makes a comment on certain characters being too old to be a prince (Pierro, Capitano, Zhongli, Venti, etc.)... mind you, Prince Charles exists, and that man did not become a king until his mother died. That man finally got the title of King in his 70s. Plus, I decided to make every man a prince because changing up titles is a little bit hard to keep up— especially when it involves almost 30 men. Anyway, to all my new and returning readers, keep in mind that I ONLY post on my Tumblr (Genshinluvr) and my AO3 (Aaliah_exo)! Nowhere else except Tumblr and AO3!

Taglist for my isekai'd!Reader one-shot series and my overall taglist for my Genshin fics: @chirikoheina, @yoru-trash, @kaoyamamegami, @deartoru, @luminarymoonlight, @toobytub, @ins4nebish, @bokuto-kinnie, @exhaustedcommunist, @jadedist, @mompt2, @chalksdreams, @thelost-in-time, @ventisweetheart, @hispasian-otaku, @juuuuuj101010, @samarill, @testsubject0012, @irisxiel, @kazuhaprnt, @lunarapple, @emilymikado, @mabie, @vinnie-w, @n8mareee, @heyimkay, @eliciana, @blesstosuisen, @goldeneclipsedragon, @jjvr4yxc, @sovermike-21-blog, @vox34, @skyyyyackerman, @undecidingfate, @nightlysunn, @faeryminnyx, @simpcreator, @lucifarts-boxers, @thelovebuggs, @urlocalheizousimp, @sunlightstarr, @asoulsreverie, @inapileofbooke

Read more of my works on my Masterlist / Masterlist 2 | Maybe support me by tipping me on Ko-Fi or by reblogging my fanfics! ^^ I will also be posting exclusive fanfics on Ko-Fi as well very soon! I might post all of my stories on there too, but who knows. You can also tip me on Tumblr if you'd like as a way to show support! ^^

[catscidr]

YANDERE DOTTORE X READER JAHEKWHZBAKNA

happy to see most dottore enjoyers sharing the same braincell. even happier to provide that good good dottore content (〃ﾉωﾉ) answering two asks in the same post bc it would be too repetitive if i made them separate agshfjns- next post will feature either childe or al haitham (depending on which one i finish first) (giving everyone a break from dottore for a hot sec) ⸝⸝⸝⸝⸝⸝ cw: yandere dottore (obvs), not quite proofread, dottore is named zandik in the mini-fic includes: gn!reader, dottore, his clones are kinda there, pierro and the tsaritsa are also mentionned. a handful of headcanons + a mini-fic wc: 1,8k

-ˋˏ Despite what most people might think, Dottore isn’t a sadistic man. He only hurts people if it’s necessary- if it helps with his research- and even then, it’s not like he enjoys inflicting pain, he enjoys the knowledge he gathers as a result of such experiments

-ˋˏ ...That doesn't apply with you though. He likes to see you squirm, to do things that make you react, whether positively or negatively. He’s that desperate and needy  

-ˋˏ He’s a man that doesn’t go out much because of his work. So how could you blame him for wanting your attention? 

-ˋˏ I think he’d be the type of yandere to just be incredibly obsessed with you. Always having someone checking in on you (his segments, of course) to report back to him so he knows what you’re doing at all times, probably the type to have an entire folder with your personal information in it as if you were one of his test subjects

-ˋˏ Not to mention he would be extremely manipulative, too. Dottore is the definition of a wolf in sheep’s clothing; a handsome face with dubious intentions. 

-ˋˏ He wants to have your attention 24/7, to never have you take your eyes off of him, but he can’t do that if he stays holed up in his lab. Unfortunately for him he's very clingy

-ˋˏ But Dottore is a patient man (he was able to create an artificial God y’know- that kind of thing doesn’t happen overnight), so he takes his time with you- getting to know you, having his segments stalk you (he’s not the one doing it, so it’s fine, right?) 

-ˋˏ You’re just like a frog in a pot boiling water. If you put it in the pot immediately, it’ll jump out as soon as it makes contact with the hot water; but if you put it in room temperature water and boil it slowly…  

-ˋˏ The Harbinger knows your “relationship” isn’t an experiment, but at the same time it’s hard to say that he isn’t studying you. Having a mask that obscures his wandering eyes is definitely an advantage  

-ˋˏ It doesn’t matter who you are, he would bend his schedule just for you. He’s that thoughtful! Since he’s practically his own boss (aside from various deadlines and meetings) he can do whatever he wants. Who’s going to tell him off? Pierro and the Tsaritsa don’t care how he achieves results as long as he gets results. So, expect to “accidentally” run into him more times than a regular person would  

-ˋˏ You’re a fatui agent? Suddenly one of his experiments requires him to watch how soldiers (you) fight and train. You’re just a normal civilian? He’ll figure out where you work and find excuses to come see you just to chat 

-ˋˏ It’s even better if you work a customer service job. You work at a cute coffee shop? What a coincidence, he loves coffee! Now he’s a regular and you know his order by heart. (I like to think he actually hates coffee but powers through the bitter taste and energetic aftermath just because it gives him an excuse to bond with you) 

-ˋˏ You work at a grocery store? That’s perfect, he’ll start doing his groceries at your store from now on (you don’t point out how every week his groceries- without fail- consist of mozzarella sticks, a whole rotisserie chicken, cheap red wine, a pack of cigarettes and a singular loaf of whole wheat bread.)  

-ˋˏ If you’re not in the fatui, chances are you don’t know who he is (he doesn’t go out much, after all) so it’s easier for him to play up the “good guy” role (wolf in sheep’s clothing from before nudgenudge). He’s a very smooth talker 

-ˋˏ Of course, you’ve heard rumors about “the Doctor”, one of the Tsaritsa’s Harbingers, a feared man all across Teyvat. So it’s a good thing that your new friend’s name is Zandik and he’s just a normal surgeon that works in a private hospital! Nothing suspicious, 'course not

-ˋˏ Both of you engage in small talk whenever you cross paths. He’ll ask questions about you (even though he already knows the answer to them), all so that you can feel seen and heard- who cares about him, about what he does? This is about you. He wants you to tell him everything 

-ˋˏ The kind of person to use the excuse that he had a Ph.D. for a lot of things. You whine that your shoulders have been sore for longer than usual? He’ll get up from his seat and get behind you, sliding a hand just under the collar of your shirt to press and prod at your muscles to check if there’s anything wrong (good thing you can’t see his expression from behind you), saying he "knows best" whenever the (your) human body is brought up

-ˋˏ His patience isn’t endless, however. If he sees that this isn’t going anywhere, that you seem to be keeping him at arm’s length despite your “connection”, he’ll just take things into his own hands. And even though he doesn’t really get off from causing pain, he’s not afraid to make you squirm either

It wasn’t unusual for you to grab a bite to eat with the Doctor occasionally. Working at a local coffee shop had its perks; one of them being how you could make drinks for free and eat snacks at a discounted price. Though you never needed to worry about money since your friend would always tip you handsomely, basically paying you for the snacks you brought to the table. 

Closing shop was easy enough when you had someone to keep you company while you swept the floor and wiped counters clean. He sat at one of the booths, cup of coffee in hand (you started making it decaf when you noticed his nose scrunch one time when he drank his usual order), watching you work idly. 

“Rough day?” you ask with a gentle smile, looking over where Zandik sat. Being quite some distance away from him you couldn’t catch the twitch of the corner of his lips as he sighed, bringing one hand up to rub his face beneath his pointy mask. 

“You could say that” he grumbles, laying his arms on the table, holding his cup of coffee with both hands. The man tilts his head to the side, focusing on you rather than his pesky thoughts. You put the broom away and saunter over to his booth, sitting across from him with a plate of various pastries in hand. 

“What’s on your mind? Maybe I could give some advice and help! Or you’ll feel better if you just... talk about it,” you chuckle softly, taking a sip of your own drink. Zandik’s gaze never leaves your form, his gaze burning the sight of your lips into his mind. 

If he told you even a smidge of what he was thinking you would, without fail, run and never look back. Even the tamest of things he’s thought about you would drive you away. From him fantasizing about how your skin would taste, to how your heart would look like in a jar on his desk when he worked... he shudders, swallowing down the urge to do something impulsive. Zandik takes a slow sip of his coffee, eyes flickering from your lips to your wide, innocent eyes. 

“Thank you for offering,” he begins slowly, “but that’s alright. I wouldn’t want you to worry about it,” he says smoothly, losing the tension in his shoulders to seem more approachable. With the first two buttons of his shirt undone, hair lightly tousled, and overcoat thrown over the back of the booth chair, he looked nothing like the deadly Harbinger he was. Looked like an overworked businessman at most. 

You puff your cheeks, disappointed that he wouldn’t open up to you. You’ve been doing it this whole time, and yet he won’t talk about what was bothering him to you? It made your heart flutter- he was so considerate- but at the same time you couldn’t shake the idea that maybe he was hiding something. Inhaling slowly, you calm your nerves, deciding that today would be the day you confront him. After all, a good friendship is built on trust, and you can’t stay good friends with someone that hides things from you. 

Oh, how naïve you are. 

“You know you can tell me anything, right?” you say gently, placing one hand on his. The feel of his rough hand beneath yours made you shudder, almost instinctively- are surgeons’ hands supposed to be this rugged? 

“I want to be there for you in the same way you’ve been here for me...” you add, voice trailing off as your cheeks flush in embarrassment. “I think you’re nice to be around. Don’t I owe you for the number of times I’ve complained about customers to you?” you say, chuckling lightly at the memory. 

Zandik doesn’t react, not at first. His eyes fix your face with an underlying threat, gaze hidden by his mask. Although you can’t see his eyes, a shudder runs up your spine at the feeling of being watched so intently. Where have you felt this before... 

“You’re right,” he responds quietly, voice hoarse. “You owe me.” 

His words caught you off guard. Owe him? That was a joke! You were trying to lighten his spirits, to take his mind off whatever was troubling him for even just a second. How come you felt your nerves screaming at you to get up? 

His free hand covers the hand you had laid on his, the grip on your skin becoming firmer the longer you two sat there. Your heart rammed against your ribcage, ears ringing from the sudden wave of adrenaline washing over you. 

“You said you wanted to help me, right?” Zandik says in a sickly-sweet tone, leaning forward to stare at you, gaze unrelenting behind his mask. Swallowing a lump in your throat, you nod dumbly, staring back at him like a deer caught in the headlights. He grins in response. 

Did he always have teeth this sharp? 

“Then you won’t make my life harder than it already is by resisting, right?” he adds. You could hear how heavy his breathing had become in just a few seconds, how his hands had a death grip on your own. His cup of coffee was long forgotten; how could he possibly focus on something as useless as that when you were giving yourself to him? 

The snow pelleted the windows harshly, essentially trapping you inside the coffee shop with him. Even the weather outside couldn’t compare to how cold your blood ran in the face of the Doctor; maybe if you had listened to your gut earlier you wouldn’t currently be skewered in the jaws of the shark that had been circling you for months. 

[najia-cooks]

[ID: First image shows four small porcelain bowls of a pudding topped with slivered almonds and pomegranates seeds, seen from above. Second image is an extreme close-up showing the blue floral pattern on the china, slivered almonds, golden raisins, and pomegranate seeds on top of part of the pudding. End ID]

անուշապուր / Anush apur (Armenian wheat dessert)

Anush apur is a sweet boiled wheat pudding, enriched with nuts and dried fruits, that is eaten by Armenians to celebrate special occasions. One legend associates the dish with Noah's Ark: standing on Mt. Ararat (Արարատ լեռը) and seeing the rainbow of God's covenant with humanity, Noah wished to celebrate, and called for a stew to be prepared; because the Ark's stores were diminishing, the stew had to be made with small amounts of many different ingredients.

The consumption of boiled grains is of ancient origin throughout the Levant and elsewhere in West Asia, and so variations of this dish are widespread. The Armenian term is from "անուշ" ("anush") "sweet" + "ապուր" ("apur") "soup," but closely related dishes (or, arguably, versions of the same dish) have many different, overlapping names.

In Arabic, an enriched wheat pudding may be known as "سْنَينِيّة" ("snaynīyya"), presumably from "سِنّ" "sinn" "tooth" and related to the tradition of serving it on the occasion of an infant's teething; "قَمْح مَسْلُوق‎" ("qamḥ masluq"), "boiled wheat"; or "سَلِيقَة" ("salīqa") or "سَلِيقَة القَمْح" ("salīqa al-qamḥ"), "stew" or "wheat stew," from "سَلَقَ‎" "salaqa" "to boil." Though these dishes are often related to celebrations and happy occasions, in some places they retain an ancient association with death and funerary rites: qamh masluq is often served at funerals in the Christian town of بَيْت جَالَا ("bayt jālā," Beit Jala, near Bethlehem).

A Lebanese iteration, often made with milk rather than water, is known as "قَمْحِيَّة" ("qamḥīyya," from "qamḥ" "wheat" + "ـِيَّة" "iyya," noun suffix).

A similar dish is known as "بُرْبَارَة" ("burbāra") by Palestinian and Jordanian Christians when eaten to celebrate the feast of Saint Barbara, which falls on the 4th of December (compare Greek "βαρβάρα" "varvára"). It may be garnished with sugar-coated chickpeas and small, brightly colored fennel candies in addition to the expected dried fruits and nuts.

In Turkish it is "aşure," from the Arabic "عَاشُوْرَاء" ("'āshūrā"), itself from "عَاشِر" ("'āshir") "tenth"—because it is often served on the tenth day of the month of ٱلْمُحَرَّم ("muḥarram"), to commemorate Gabriel's teaching Adam and Eve how to farm wheat; Noah's disembarkment from the Ark; Moses' parting of the Red Sea; and the killing of the prophet الْحُسَيْن بْنِ عَلِي (Husayn ibn 'Ali), all of which took place on this day in the Islamic calendar. Here it also includes various types of beans and chickpeas. There is also "diş buğdayı," "tooth wheat" (compare "snayniyya").

These dishes, as well as slight variations in add-ins, have varying consistencies. At one extreme, koliva (Greek: "κόλλυβα"; Serbian: "Кољиво"; Bulgarian: "Кутя"; Romanian: "colivă"; Georgian: "კოლიო") is made from wheat that has been boiled and then strained to remove the boiling water; at the other, Armenian anush apur is usually made thin, and cools to a jelly-like consistency.

Anush apur is eaten to celebrate occasions including New Year's Eve, Easter, and Christmas. In Palestine, Christmas is celebrated by members of the Armenian Apostolic church from the evening of December 24th to the day of December 25th by the old Julian calendar (January 6th–7th, according to the new Gregorian calendar); Armenian Catholics celebrate on December 24th and 25th by the Gregorian calendar. Families will make large batches of anush apur and exchange bowls with their neighbors and friends.

The history of Armenians in Palestine is deeply interwoven with the history of Palestinian Christianity. Armenian Christian pilgrimages to holy sites in Palestine date back to the 4th century A.D., and permanent Armenian monastic communities have existed in Jerusalem since the 6th century. This enduring presence, bolstered by subsequent waves of immigration which have increased and changed the character of the Armenian population in Palestine in the intervening centuries, has produced a rich history of mutual influence between Armenian and Palestinian food cultures.

In the centuries following the establishment of the monasteries, communities of Armenian laypeople arose and grew, centered around Jerusalem's Վանք Հայոց Սրբոց Յակոբեանց ("vank hayots surbots yakobeants"; Monastery of St. James) (Arabic: دَيْر مَار يَعْقُوب "dayr mār ya'qūb"). Some of these laypeople were descended from the earlier pilgrims. By the end of the 11th century, what is now called the Armenian Quarter—an area covering about a sixth of the Old City of Jerusalem, to the southwest—had largely attained its present boundaries.

Throughout the 16th and 17th centuries, the Patriarchate in Jerusalem came to have direct administrative authority over Armenian Christians across Palestine, Lebanon, Egypt, and Cyprus, and was an important figure in Christian leadership and management of holy sites in Jerusalem (alongside the Greek Orthodox and Roman Catholic churches). By the middle of the 19th century, a small population of Armenian Catholics had joined the larger Armenian Apostolic community as permanent residents in Jerusalem, living throughout the Muslim Quarter (but mostly in a concentrated enclave in the southwest); in the beginning of the 20th century, there were between 2,000 and 3,000 Armenians of both churches in Palestine, a plurality of whom (1,200) lived in Jerusalem.

The Turkish genocide of Armenians beginning in 1915 caused significant increases in the populations of Armenian enclaves in Palestine. The Armenian population in Jerusalem grew from 1,500 to 5,000 between the years of 1918 and 1922; over the next 3 years, the total number of Armenians in Palestine (according to Patriarchate data) would grow to 15,000. More than 800 children were taken into Armenian orphanages in Jerusalem; students from the destroyed Չարխափան Սուրբ Աստվածածին վանք (Charkhapan Surb Astvatsatsin Monastery) and theological seminary in Armash, Armenia were brought to the Jerusalem Seminary. The population of Armenian Catholics in the Muslim Quarter also increased during the first half of the 20th century as immigrants from Cilicia and elsewhere arrived.

The immediate importance of feeding and housing the refugees despite a new lack of donations from Armenian pilgrims, who had stopped coming during WW1—as well as the fact that the established Armenian-Palestinians were now outnumbered by recent immigrants who largely did not share their reformist views—disrupted efforts on the part of lay communities and some priests to give Armenian laypeople a say in church governance.

The British Mandate, under which Britain assumed political and military control of Palestine from 1923–1948, would further decrease the Armenian lay community's voice in Jerusalem (removing, for example, their say in elections of new church Patriarchs). The British knew that the indigenous population would be easier to control if they were politically and socially divided into their separate religious groups and subjected to the authority of their various religious hierarchies, rather than having direct political representation in government; they also took advantage of the fact that the ecclesiastical orders of several Palestinian Christian sects (including the Armenian Patriarchate of Jerusalem) comprised people from outside of Palestine, who identified with religious hierarchy and the British authorities more than they identified with the Palestinian lay communities.

British policy, as well as alienating Armenians from politics affecting their communities, isolated them from Arab Palestinians. Though the previously extant Armenian community (called "քաղաքացի" "kaghakatsi," "city-dwellers") were thoroughly integrated with the Arab Palestinians in the 1920s, speaking Arabic and Arabic-accented Armenian and eating Palestinian foods, the newer arrivals (called "زُوَّار" / "զուվվար" "zuwwar," "visitors") were unfamiliar with Palestinian cuisine and customs, and spoke only Armenian and/or Turkish. Thus British policies, which differentiated people based on status as "Arab" (Muslim and Christian) versus "Jewish," left new Armenian immigrants, who did not identify as Arab, disconnected from the issues that concerned most Palestinians. They were predominantly interested in preserving Armenian culture, and more concerned with the politics of the Armenian diaspora than with local ones.

Despite these challenges, the Armenian Patriarchate of Jerusalem came to be a vital center of religious and secular culture for the Armenian diaspora during the British Mandate years. In 1929, Patriarch Yeghishe Turian reëstablished the Սուրբ Յակոբեանց Տպարան ("surbots yakobeants taparan"; St. James printing house); the Patriarchate housed important archives relating to the history of the Armenian people; pilgrimages of Armenians from Syria, Lebanon, and Egypt increased and the economy improved, attracting Armenian immigrants in higher numbers; Armenians held secular roles in governance, policing, and business, and founded social, religious, and educational organizations and institutions; Armenians in the Old and New Cities of Jerusalem were able to send financial aid to Armenian victims of a 1933 earthquake in Beirut, and to Armenians expelled in 1939 when Turkey annexed Alexandretta.

The situation would decline rapidly after the 1947 UN partition resolution gave Zionists tacit permission to expel Palestinians from broad swathes of Palestine. Jerusalem, intended by the plan to be a "corpus separatum" under international administration, was in fact subjected to a months-long war that ended with its being divided into western (Israeli) and eastern (Palestinian) sections. The Armenian population of Palestine began to decline; already, 1947 saw 1,500 Armenians resettled in Soviet Armenia. The Armenian populations in Yafa and Haifa would fall yet more significantly.

Still, the Armenian Patriarchate of Jerusalem maintained its role as the center of Armenian life in Palestine; the compound provided food and shelter to thousands of Armenians during the Battle for Jerusalem and the Nakba (which began in 1948). Some Armenians formed a militia to defend the Armenian Quarter against Haganah shelling during the battle.

In the following years, historical British contributions to the shoring up of insular power in the Patriarchate would cause new problems. The Armenian secular community, no longer empowered to oversee the internal workings of the Patriarchate, could do nothing to prevent embezzling, corruption, and even the sale of church-owned land and buildings to settlers.

In 1967, Israeli military forces annexed East Jerusalem, causing another, albeit smaller, surge in Armenian emigration from the city. Daphne Tsimhoni estimates based on various censuses that the Armenian population of Jerusalem, which had reached 5,000-7,000 at its peak in 1945–6, had fallen back to 1,200 by 1978.

Today, as in the 20th century, Armenians in Jerusalem (who made up nearly 90% of the Armenian population of Palestine as of 1972) are known for the insularity of their community, and for their skill at various crafts. Armenian food culture has been kept alive and well-defined by successive waves of immigrants. As of 2017, the Armenian Patriarchate supplied about 120 people a day with Armenian dishes, including Ղափամա / غاباما "ghapama" (pumpkin stuffed with rice and dried fruits), թոփիկ / توبيك "topig" (chickpea-and-potato dough stuffed with an onion, nut, fruit, and herb filling, often eaten during Lent), and Իչ / ايتش "eetch" (bulgur salad with tomatoes and herbs).

Restaurants lining the streets of the Armenian and Christian quarters serve a mixture of Armenian and Palestinian food. Լահմաջո "lahmadjoun" (meat-topped flatbread), and հարիսա / هريس "harisa" (stew with wheat and lamb) are served alongside ֆալաֆել / فلافل ("falafel") and մուսախան / مسخن ("musakhkhan"). One such restaurant, Taboon Wine Bar, was the site of a settler attack on Armenian diners in January 2023.

Up until 2023, despite fluctuations in population, the Armenian community in Jerusalem had been relatively stable when compared to other Armenian communities and to other quarters of the Old City; the Armenian Quarter had not been subjected to the development projects to which other quarters had been subjected. However, a deal which the Armenian Patriarchate had secretly and unilaterally made with Israel real estate developer Danny Rotham in 2021 to lease land and buildings (including family homes) in the Quarter led Jordan and Palestine to suspend their recognition of the Patriarch in May of 2023.

On 26th October, the Patriarchate announced that it was cancelling the leasing deal. Later the same day, Israeli bulldozers tore up pavement and part of a wall in حديقة البقر ("ḥadīqa al-baqar"; Cows' Garden; Armenian: "Կովերի այգու"), the planned site of a new luxury hotel. On 5th November, Rothman and other representatives of Xana Gardens arrived with 15 settlers—some of them with guns and attack dogs—and told local Armenians to leave. About 200 Armenian Palestinians arrived and forced the settlers to stand down.

On 12th and 13th November, the developer again arrived with bulldozers and attempted to continue demolition. In response, Armenian Palestinians have executed constant sit-ins, faced off against bulldozers, and set up barricades to prevent further destruction. The Israeli occupation police backed settlers on another incursion on 15th November, ordering Armenian residents to vacate the land and arresting three.

On December 28th, a group of Armenian bishops, priests, deacons, and seminary students (including Bishop Koryoun Baghdasaryan, the director of the Patriarchate's real estate department) were attacked by a group of more than 30 people armed with sticks and tear gas. The Patriarchate attributed this attack to Israeli real estate interests trying to intimidate the Patriarchate into abandoning their attempt to reverse the lease through the court system. Meanwhile, anti-Armenian hate crimes (including spitting on priests) had noticeably increased for the year of 2023.

These events in Palestine come immediately after the ethnic cleansing of Լեռնային Ղարաբաղ ("Lernayin Gharabagh"; Nagorno-Karabakh); Israel supplied exploding drones, long-range missiles, and rocket launchers to help Azerbaijan force nearly 120,000 Armenians out of the historically Armenian territory in September of 2023 (Azerbaijan receives about 70% of its weapons from Israel, and supplies about 40% of Israel's oil).

Support Palestinian resistance by donating to Palestine Action’s bail fund; buying an e-sim for distribution in Gaza; or donating to help a family leave Gaza.

Ingredients

180g (1 cup) pearled wheat (قمح مقشور / խոշոր ձաւար), soaked overnight

3 cups water

180-360g (a scant cup - 1 3/4 cup) sugar, or to taste

Honey or agave nectar (optional)

1 cup total diced dried apricots, prunes, golden raisins, dried figs

1 cup total chopped walnuts, almonds, pistachios

1 tsp rosewater (optional)

Ceylon cinnamon (դարչին) or cassia cinnamon (կասիա)

Aniseed (անիսոն) (optional)

Large pinch of salt

Pomegranate seeds, to top (optional)

A Palestinian version of this dish may add pine nuts and ground fennel.

Pearled wheat is whole wheat berry that has gone through a "pearling" process to remove the bran. It can be found sold as "pearled wheat" or "haleem wheat" in a halal grocery store, or a store specializing in South Asian produce.

Amounts of sugar called for in Armenian recipes range from none (honey is stirred into the dish after cooking) to twice the amount of wheat by weight. If you want to add less sugar than is called for here, cook down to a thicker consistency than called for (as the sugar will not be able to thicken the pudding as much).

Instructions

1. Submerge wheat in water and scrub between your hands to clean and remove excess starch. Drain and cover by a couple inches with hot water. Cover and leave overnight.

2. Drain wheat and add to a large pot. Add water to cover and simmer for about 30 minutes until softened, stirring and adding more hot water as necessary.

Wheat before cooking

Wheat after cooking

3. Add dried fruit, sugar, salt, and spices and simmer for another 30 minutes, stirring occasionally, until wheat is very tender. Add water as necessary; the pudding should be relatively thin, but still able to coat the back of a spoon.

4. Remove from heat and stir in rosewater and honey. Ladle pudding into individual serving bowls and let cool in the refrigerator. Serve cold decorated with nuts and pomegranate seeds.

[zoeoe-sims]

Homebaked Bread Mod

I like bread. I want my Sims to be able to make bread without needing multiple ovens, but also have to knead dough in the process.

So I made this mod - a new "Bake Bread..." interaction that allows you to bake bread recipes using the Baker's Station kneading animations, but done so on a counter, and then cooked in a regular oven.

This mod is a pure script mod that adds the new interaction to fridges, and includes 4 bread recipes that can be cooked in this way:

Homebaked Sourdough

Homebaked Rye

Homebaked Baguette

Homebaked Challah

All have ingredients Egg and Flour from Echoweavers wheat and flour mod if you have it.

The first 3 are cloned versions of the Baker's Station's breads (they don't affect the original ones), made to be compatible with this mod.

The challah is a cloned version of my challah recipe converted from TS4, made compatible with this mod (also does not affect the original, see below if you don't have the Challah & Matzo Ball Soup Mod).

There are some technicalities about these recipes that make things work a bit differently to normal, but I'll put that under the cut, as well as information on making Homebaked-Bread-Compatible recipes.

DOWNLOAD here, but I recommend reading the rest of the info below: SFS | Simblr.cc

REQUIRES CC Loader

REQUIRES the Baker's Station item from the store, for both the kneading animations as well as the bread recipe models. But it won't crash the game without it ;)

Notes on these recipes:

For these recipes to only show up under the mod's interaction, they are not "Learnable" recipes. So they work similar to the store recipes in that they can't be learnt from a recipe book, they don't count towards a Sim's learnt recipes, and I think a few other small things which I'm not sure of. Shouldn't be a big deal but I just wanted to mention that.

Specifically for the Challah, my original version of the recipe has a level 2 recipe book. You can have both the original and the HB recipe installed as they are technically separate recipes, but the regular version (under the EA cooking interaction) will use the original cooking process and require the recipe book, whereas the HB version will just require skill level 2 and will use the kneading animations. If you don't have the original challah mod installed, you'll need the challahFiles package as well.

The cooking process looks the same for all HB recipes - Sims get the dough from the fridge, knead it on a counter, put it in a baking dish, and cook it in the oven. The only difference are the raw/cooked models used in the baking dish.

Adding new Homebaked Bread recipes:

Mostly the same as making regular custom recipes, just with a few extra steps to make it an HB recipe.

Make your recipe as normal with CC Loader (alternatively add your recipe to the recipes XML included in this mod)

The Recipe_Key must include "HBBread"

Learnable set to False

Must have a custom cooking process which Recipe_Class refers to

For the cooking process, I suggest using one of mine as a base as there are only a couple of things that need changing then: The line Models contains the only things that can be customised for the cooking process - the raw dough model in the baking tray, the cooked bread in the baking tray, and the burnt bread in the baking tray. The easiest thing is to have the first as the dough (WOFridgeDough), and the second and third as the recipe's serving model with the default and burnt material states. But if you want to have extra models, you can of course.

Even more notes:

For NoFridgeShopping simmers, there's a tuning value in the zoeoe_BakeBreadMod_Tuning XML to turn on NoFridgeShopping. As you might expect, with this set to True, Sims will require the ingredients to bake the breads, and they will be greyed out without them. You can either change this with S3PE or NRaas Retuner under Sims3.Gameplay.Objects.zoeoe.BakeBreadMod.Main.

Fun fact: yet another mistake in EA's Baker's Station recipe data - the sourdough and rye breads have the same textures (both use rye ones) because they didn't set the material state name for the sourdough bread. My HB versions use the right textures, but if you want to fix the BS ones, just change the "breadRoundRye" to "breadRoundSourdough" where the sourdough single and group models are defined in the CCMerged RMLS resource.

And thank you to Bietjie for testing!

Hope you enjoy, my fellow lovers of bread <3

If you like my mods, consider supporting me by donating

[kaihuntrr]

A bunch of Scott designs I did for warmups <3 using my personal head canons for each one! Explanations for their looks and ‘names’ down below!

Life Series: Scott!

I love all of them so much,, I wanted to keep their outfits and general vibes simple, they’re all pretty but also some practicality in their wardrobes as they are in some type of survival game ehe.

3rd Life: Poppy

Self explanatory name, this version of Scott is the sweetest and the most disconnected from the survival games. He only wanted to live with his husband in their little paradise in forms of flower valleys and endless wheat fields, completely isolated from the war. His outfit is of a gardener, overalls and a sunhat with his and Jimmy’s favorite flower; poppies. He grew out his hair and ties it, not wanting it to be in the way of his work. He is overly protective of his husband, wanting to keep him safe and away from danger for as much as he possibly can. A widow’s rage is something else.

I imagine 3rd Life designs to be more humanoid, so Scott here is an elf! This soul of his moved on to Empires, where he spends the rest of his days with his husband in sweet bliss.

Last Life: Star

Earned the name after being victorious in the game of betrayal. A guiding star to others, he keeps the titular mark on his forehead for the remainder of his time in the Life Series due to being a winner, a reminder of him losing his final life to a lightning bolt. He is the most cunning, using his wits and trust to be a strong ally. He lived in the center of all the chaos with his partner, his best friend Pearl, using little moths to communicate to each other. With sheltered forests and a cottage as their ‘home’, he has deer-like features and antlers to boot. Perhaps this was an attempt to recreate a copy of Poppy, as he has some memories of ‘his’ previous life. He dresses in a neat dress shirt and vest, matching with his best friend and fitting the aesthetic of their pretty house in the woods. Just don’t touch the wall, please.

I wanted to use yellows for this design, as he starts off with two lives! Plus, the contrast looks so good <3 this soul is the host of future life seasons, having full clarity of this life when he goes into future events. Once a series is over, all precious memories will wash over him and the star will hover over his head. This is his ‘real’ form, his ‘winning’ soul.

Double Life: Venus

Named after the brightest ‘star’ next to the moon, he feels isolated. He felt something familiar as he was brought into this life, but he never expected to be connected to Pearl. He shouldn’t blame her, but he doesn’t deal well with being alone. Somehow, he still has a brief memory of Poppy’s as he feels.. something when Jimmy’s soulbound isn’t with him. He loves being with Cleo, his chosen soulmate, and being Pearl’s soulbound meant he could feel her frustration and loneliness. Should he have been there for her? Likely. He couldn’t bare seeing her face again. He couldn’t bare losing her again. Not again. Maybe it was better this way, they’re both hurting. He hopes this is better.

I used green as he was green in his iconic and heartbreaking moment of splitting off with Pearl and Martyn to join up with Cleo, and also I can remember him being mostly green until Pearl ups and ruins that- he’s a ram, his horns shifting to ram horns to solidify his stubborn nature to reconnect, and a general ranch aesthetic given he and Cleo made a whole soulmate ranch thing. The hair over his eyes are to hide his teary eyes, still missing and hurting over his soulmate.

Limited Life: Coral

A fitting name for the person who established the Coral Isles. The cottage was in the middle of it all, so he wanted his life to be away from all the drama, just by the side of the map near the ocean to relax. Unfortunately, things just won’t stop coming for him. Be it being the boogeyman first, allying with someone who you swore was supposed to kill you, and more memories of your past life you don’t understand coming back to haunt you, it’s a little too much. He can’t help but be flirty with Martyn though, the man definitely bites back. He finds his partner’s overprotective-ness rather adorable, and he’d do anything for him back, even give him time.

Fish!! Drastically different than my AU design, which is good- used his red skin as he did wonderfully as a red name and whenever I think of Limited Life I’d always think of Red Scott, which I adore <3 he does have long hair, can’t not have his long hair for him!

Until series five comes out, these are my thoughts and ideas for Life Series Scott! I’d love to write out possible interaction ideas but I’m afraid this post might be too long LMAO- a good break from Sea Prince content, but I absolutely adore the life series and the pseudo-story I have for this guy in particular. Who knows, you might see fullbodies of them in the future? :D no promises!

[thebibliosphere]

So, is Manor Lords as amazeballs as you expected, and is that why you didn't sleep last night? :-)

You don't know me...

But also yes. It's a lot of fun. The only reason I'm not playing it right now is because we're hosting a family birthday dinner. Otherwise, I'd be glued to my screen, watching my wheat fields grow.