#frozen figs

[fakesorbet]

The Bad Kids + Summer drinks

[tomatoluvr69]

Cleaning out the bottom shelf of the freezer today which means finding a bunch of stuff left there by my roommate’s old roommates. Finds include: a whole frozen blue jay, a set of rooster feet, a raccoon pelt, a ziplock full of unlabeled shrimp with peel still on, bag of millet the size of Rhode Island, full lemongrass shoots, a pack of organic beef hot dogs

[maddie-grove]

It’s so stupid when people are like “eating a salad doesn’t count as healthy if it has meat/cheese/nuts/dressing/croutons/fruit on it, because then it has too many calories.” Nutrition issues aside, if I don’t eat the Bad Salad, I am not going to eat a vegetable-only salad with the merest suggestion of a balsamic vinaigrette dressing. I am going to eat a can of Pringles.

[thebearer]

i'll make you so sure about it |carmen berzatto x reader|

prompt: a run in with "claire-bear" leaves you bristled with jealousy. carmen assures you there's no need to be.

contains: minors dni 18+. mean-ish reader (she's jealous), dom/sub dynamics, dom!carmen, kinda brat tamer!carmen too, language, mentions to past relationships, fingering (fem rec), p in v sex, aftercare.

“What else is on the list?” Carmen pushed the cart through the aisles of the grocery store, tossing the figs into the basket. 

“Black garlic.” You marked through the scratchy handwriting that belonged to Carmen, pen tapping on the small notepad. “Never heard of black garlic.” 

“Really?” Carmen hummed in amusement, a tiny smile that was soft but warm- just for you. “You’ve had it before.” 

“Have I?” You lifted a brow. “You’ve been sneaking things in my food, hm?” 

“Tryna expand your palette, babe.” Carmen scoffed, pulling you in by your waist into him. 

You laughed, looking down at your list, squirming when his fingers ghosted over your sides. “Oh, shoot, I forgot we need detergent.” You hiss, looking at the bottle of Tide in the cart beside you. “I’m gonna go grab that, and you get the rest on the list?” 

Carmen nodded, taking the pad and pen out of your hand. “I got it. I’ll be over here, alright?” He nods towards the produce. 

You head in the opposite direction, spilling off in the frozen aisles to head back towards the cleaning section, snatching the detergent off the shelf. You’d have to run by the little apothecary shop down on Main to get more of the scent boosters you liked- that Carmen liked. He liked how your sheets always smelled when you first started dating, soft and clean and sweet somehow? Fuck, he wasn’t even sure how, but when you moved in with him, that smell lingered into his clothes, his sheet. He’d catch whiffs during the day at work, a calming breeze that grounded him, kept his mind rushing back to you. 

You scanned the produce section, finding the familiar head of curls tucked under a Bears hat. You had bought him that hat, a little playful joke since some customers were always asking if the restaurant was named after the team. It infuriated Carmen, annoyed him to no end, but the hat? He rolled his eyes, muttering something about you being “real funny” in a sarcastic tone, but he wore it anyway. It was a nice hat, what can he say?

Carmen was on the end, a grip on his basket that had you a little suspect, until you saw the other basket, parked next to his, a girl leaning towards Carmen. Your heart dropped, a spike of jealousy, hot and blinding shooting through your spine. 

“...You know I meant to stop by the restaurant last week, but I was so busy with rounds. You were closed by the time I got off.” The girl bragged, loud enough so the ones around her would be impressed. You wanted to scoff, did she not know this was Chicago? 

“Oh, that’s too bad.” You could hear the edge in Carmen’s voice, and not the usual one that accompanied with unprompted social interaction. This was one harder, a strain that had you suspicious at the defensiveness. 

“Hey, Carmy,” You muttered, stepping beside him. He jumped when you did, eyes wide and scared like he’d been caught. “I got the detergent.” You placed it in the basket, trying to avoid the eyes of the girl in front of you. 

“Oh, uh, that’s great. Thank you.” Carmen’s hand found your waist easily, but you didn’t miss the way his hand rubbed on his jeans first, wiping the sweat off. 

“Hi,” The girl said, a tight lipped, forced smile that you knew all too well. “I’m Claire.” 

You gave it back, a snarl and cutting eyes, letting your name slide through your clenched teeth- a threat. “Yeah, uh, Claire and I…we, uh, used to go to school together.” Carmen stuttered.           

“Really? That’s it, Bear?” Claire laughed. Your spine straightened, the primal urge to ram your cart into hers so it sent the handle flying into her stomach because she used your nickname- maybe she’d break a rib. 

Your eyes cut to Carmen’s, lips rolling into a pursed pucker. Carmen flushed, red cheeks that spread to his ears, down to his neck. “Well, I mean, Claire’s real close with my family too.” Carmen offered, looking down at you, his heart dropping when he did. Fuck, you were pissed. 

“Richie and Mikey used to call me Claire Bear all the time.” She laughed, a forced, mean girl-esque laugh. “Used to tease Carmy for always drawing me.” 

“Oh?” You quipped, turning to Carmen with narrowed eyes. “Well, that’s funny. You must’ve been really close to get the Bear nickname too.” You hummed, an edge to your voice that had Carmen’s stomach dropping. He felt like he was going to be sick, under your gaze, hard eyes that questioned and challenged him. 

“Oh, yeah, we were always really close, weren’t we, Carmen?” Claire batted her eyes at him, and for a moment, you had to grip the basket. Stop yourself from slamming her head into the fridge. 

Carmen looked like he might pass out, palms rubbing against his jeans, eyes bouncing from you to her. “Y’know we should catch up sometime, Carmy. I’d love to see Sugar and Richie.” 

“Yeah, I-I’m not sure what they’re-” 

“-You know what.” You snipped, teeth ground tight. “I think I’ll finish shopping, and you two can catch up, alright?” You snatch the list out of Carmen’s hand. “It was so nice to meet you, Claire.” 

Carmen can feel your anger even after you stomp away, whizzing into the next aisle, slinging the basket with so much fury the detergent slides and he cringes as he thinks about the plums that probably got crushed. 

“Uh-oh,” Claire snickers. “Looks like I got you in trouble.” 

“Yeah- I mean, no, she’s just… We have plans later, so I gotta go. Tell your family I said hello.” Carmen nods, barely hearing her reply before he’s chasing you down the aisles. 

“Baby, hey, c’mon-” 

“Don’t.” You hissed, shoving Carmen’s hand off you. “Go back and talk to Claire Bear.” You snarled, voice rising in pitch to mock the name. 

“Don’t do this.” Carmen’s stomach turned, twisting with that familiar twinge of anxiety. His eyes were already darting towards the far end of the store, feeling like he needed to get a bottle of Pepto… maybe two. 

“Do what?” You snapped, huffing at him. “Honestly, Carmen, how would you feel if I ran into one of my old exes and they were talkin’ to me like that, huh?” 

“She’s not an ex-” 

“-Oh? She isn’t?” You deadpanned, glaring at Carmen. He faltered, eyes darting from your gaze just for a moment. “You’re such a fucking liar, Carmen, I’m not stupid.” You huffed, shoving the cart. 

“Hey,” Carmen snapped, heavy hand landing on the cart’s handle to stop it. “Cut it out, alright?” 

That only made you bristle even more, bouts of fury that spiked through your body. You wanted to scream, cause a scene and storm out, leaving him mortified and standing there with everyone staring at him. A few years ago, you would have. 

Instead, you slammed the rest of the list into the seat of the cart. “Give me the keys.” You huffed. 

“What? You can’t-” 

“-I’m going to sit in the fucking car, Carmen. Give me the fucking keys.” You growl, louder this time, turning the head of a passerby. 

Carmen flushed, furiously, shaking hands fishing his keys out of his pocket, dropping them in your hand. “D-Do you need anything else not on the list?” He asked softly, a hope that you might soften at his tone. 

You didn’t reply, turning on your heel instead, stomping out of the sliding doors. Carmen felt his stomach turn, lurching in his throat, heart hammering so hard sweat was forming at his hairline under the hat. He definitely needed that Pepto now. 

“She’s just a friend! A childhood friend, that-that I don’t even talk to!” Carmen huffed, his voice rising. You had been on him, furious and accusing from the moment he got in the car, all the way home, carrying the groceries up the steps of the apartment. 

“That you fucked!” Your voice shrilled loud enough Carmen flinched, knowing the neighbors would hear. “You fucked her!” 

“I-I… like one time!” Carmen stuttered, throwing his hands out in exasperation. He set the detergent with a heavy thud on the counter, glaring at it. It was the detergent’s fucking fault this happend, Carmen thought. He should have just gone with you or gotten the detergent instead- fuck, why did he have to run into Claire out of all people. 

“I knew it!” You smacked your hand against the cabinet. “I fuckin’ knew it! God, you are such a liar, Carmen!” 

“How did I lie? How? Hey, get back here, I’m talkin’ to you!” Carmen had reached his breaking point, beyond irritated and frustrated. 

“Fuck you, Carmen. Just a friend, my fuckin’ ass.” You growled, pushing the door to your bedroom open so quickly it hit the wall, the door stopper buzzing angrily. 

“Can you- Can you just listen to me, please?” Carmen took a grounding breath, pinching the bridge of his nose with clammy, uncomfortable hands. 

“Listen to you what? Listen to you tell me how you’ve known Claire Bear your whole life? And how the two of you have sooo much history together?” You sneer, teeth baring in a sort of growl that made Carmen’s heart spike with anger…maybe fear… maybe both?

“We don’t have… Baby, I-I really don’t fuckin’ know what you want from me here, alright? I don’t like Claire.” Carmen huffed. 

“Anymore.” You muttered, bitterly. 

“Yeah, anymore. I don’t- wait.” Carmen held up his hand, realization washing over him. “Wait a fuckin’ second. Are you- Are you jealous right now?” 

“Shut up, Carmen-” 

“-Oh my God! Holy shit! You’re jealous?” His tone was far too light, nearly mocking, throwing his hands up in exasperation. “Why the fuck are you jealous?” 

“Oh, fuck you, Carmen! Like you wouldn’t be jealous if my ex was all over me like that in front of you!” You countered bitterly, satisfied at the way his jaw flexed at the thought. 

“Yeah, but your ex doesn’t have you, I do.” Carmen said, an edge in his voice that had ice shooting down your spine, a tingle spreading between your legs. He took a step forward, so close to you, his eyes were piercing into you, cutting right through your soul. “And Claire or-or anyone else doesn't have me, alright? You fuckin’ got me.” 

You tried to stay strong, keep your facade up for a little longer, not let him know how your knees were buckling under his stare. “Still, Carm,” Your voice was softer now, on the edge of a whine. “‘S not fair you let her talk to you like that in front of me.” 

“What did you want me to do?” Carmen scoffed, his hand finding your hip. “She only talked like that because she knew I was with you. Wanted to get under your skin, and you fuckin’ let her.” 

“I did not-” 

“Oh?” Carmen’s tone lilted, leaving you blushing furiously under his challenging gaze. “That’s why you threw a whole goddam fit? Fuckin’ leavin’ the store? Bitchin’ me out the whole way home?” 

You pouted, huffing at the meanness in his tone. Carmen’s hand caught your jaw, pulling your gaze back to him. “You acted bad, and for what? I don’t want her. I don’t want anyone but you, you know that.” Your cheeks burned with heat, hoping he couldn’t see how flustered he was making you, scolding you like this. Oh, you were fucking throbbing. 

“Even when you’re mean to me like that. You know I only want you. Don’t insult me like that, thinkin’ I’d ever want someone else, you got me?” Carmen snapped. 

“Yes, Carmen.” You muttered, eyes rolling to the floor. 

“Who?” Carmen growled, jerking your chin back to him. 

You blushed, thighs rubbing together. You knew what he wanted, what was coming. “Yes, Daddy.” You muttered, pitch rising in your tone to that light airy voice you used when you played, reserved just for him. 

Carmen hummed satisfied, letting his hand slide down your jaw, fingers curling and tilting your chin upwards towards him. “Why would you think I wanted anyone else, hm?” Carmen rasped, lips brushing over yours but not giving into you yet- teasing you. His free hand slid down your waist, slowly, pinky toying with the edge of your leggings. “You know you’re it for me. Don’t you?” 

“Yes, Daddy.” You hummed, his hand sneaking under the stretchy elastic of your pants, sliding closer and closer to where you needed him most. 

Carmen’s lips slid over your soft skin, finally pressing to the corner of your mouth. His fingers cupping your mound, sliding over your clothed slit teasingly. “Think I need to remind you, hm? D’you forget? That’s it?” Carmen rasped, pointer finger pressing against the cotton of your panties, circling over your clit. 

You gasped, clawing at his shoulders, his lips trailing down your jaw, free hand moving to hold you by the back of your neck, keeping you still while you squirmed against his touch. “Think I need to remind you, baby.” Carmen growled, the vibrations from his voice muffled on your skin, sending shockwaves to your core. “That what I need t’do, huh?” 

“Yes.” You whined, nasally and desperate, abdomen already clenching at the way he was working your clit. “Please.” You begged. 

“Please, what? Huh? Who’re you talkin’ to?” Carmen hummed, teeth grazing over the sensitive spot on your neck that had you lurching, knees buckling at the combined sensations. 

“Please, Daddy.” You panted, eyes rolling back when he licked over your neck, fingers pressing harder, rubbing tighter circles around your clit. 

You could feel how hard Carmen was, bulge rubbing against your hip, trying to satisfy his own throbbing. Your nails sunk into his skin, sure you’d leave marks, but you were sure he wouldn’t care. “You want me to take care of you? Want me to show you?” Carmen asked, so sweetly it made you gush, clenching around nothing, desperate for him to fill you up. 

“Yes, please, Daddy. Please.” You shuddered, a strangled breathy moan falling past your lips. “I need it so bad, please.” 

Carmen’s pace picked up furiously, a groan leaving his lips when he sucked at your sensitive skin there, hand tightening around the back of your neck to keep you in place. You could feel your legs shake, Carmen’s pace steadying and keeping tight circles around your clit, sending you reeling and jerking with every graze of his tongue, clinging to him while you fell apart- too easily. He did this to you too easily, knew you too well so he could. 

Carmen’s hand pulled out of your pants, your panties soaked with your own slick, some coating his fingers where you leaked through the fabric. Carmen let them pass in front of you, eyes locked to yours when he slipped them in his mouth, your breath hitching when he cleaned your release off his fingers. 

“Out of your fuckin’ mind if you think I want anyone else.” Carmen’s eyes darkened, holding your gaze in a menacing way. “Nobody tastes fuckin’ better than you, are you crazy? Thinkin’ I’d want someone else.” Carmen scoffed, leaving you shuddering, still reeling from your own high. 

“Take those clothes off and get on the bed. I’ll show you who you belong to. Who I belong to.” Carmen’s head jerked towards the bed. 

You scrambled towards it, shoving off your legging and peeling off clothes, tossing them into the corner of the room. You were slick, still pulsing from moments before, lying back on the edge of the bed with parted legs. The sick click of your own wetness filling the room when you spread yourself- oh, Carmen was sure he was going to pass out, looking at you spread and wet and waiting for him. All for him. If it wasn’t for the near painful throbbing of his cock, he would have devoured you, made you cum over and over and over on his tongue until his mouth was drenched with you, your scent filling his nose. Another time, he decided, pumping himself a few times. 

“You know, you really piss me off sayin’ shit like that.” Carmen huffed, pushing his hair back with his hand, inked fingers running through those blonde curls that were your weakness.

You look at him, feeling the fat head of his cock rubbing through your folds, teasing you already. “Actin’ like I’d ever want somebody else. Gettin’ jealous and for what, huh? Just actin’ out.” Carmen leaned down, folding his body so it was over yours, his face inches from your own. “You know you’re the only one for me. Only one I’d ever want.” 

He didn’t give you a chance to reply, pushing in deeply in one swift movement, filling you entirely with his length. You gasped, clawing at his shoulder blades until he was flush against you, your breath stammering, eyes rolling back at the stretch. 

Carmen waited, feeling you relax around him until he moved, a hard snap of his hips, unforgiving and painfully slow, rolling into you. You whined, a high pitched gasp, Carmen’s lips pressing to your wrist gently. He let his hips roll, getting into a steady, hard pace that left you drooling, eyes rolling back at each calculated jab to the sweet spot inside of you. The way you were clenching, Carmen knew he wasn’t going to last long. 

“Thinkin’ I’d want somebody else,” Carmen scoffed between gritted teeth, swallowing back the groan in the back of his throat at the way your pussy was strangling him right now. “I told you a million- shit- a million times before, baby. You’re it for me. You got that?” 

“Y-Yes, Carmy.” You shuddered, eyes already glossing over, mind numbing and reeling all at once. Your legs were shaking, burning already with another build up of pleasure. Carmen’s hips snapped, leaving you crying out, your own moans bouncing off the walls. 

Carmen chose not to correct you, muscles tightening in his legs and abs, trying to keep himself from spilling too soon. He knew you were close, could see it in your eyes, the rounding of your mouth. Leaning down, Carmen buried himself back into your neck, pushed into your skin. His own soft whines muffled against you, leaving you soaring with adoration, swimming in pleasure. 

“I don’t want anyone else but you.” Carmen admitted, hidden in the slick skin of your neck, a much softer admission than anything before. It was sincere, leaving you burning with heat, shaking as the tight coil in your tummy unraveled. 

Carmen felt you gush over him, wetting the hair at the base of his pelvis, before he pushed himself back up, pounding hard and deep inside of you to finish himself off. Hot breath hitting your neck, tiny whines and groans of pleasure buzzing in your ear before he finished, spilling inside of you with long, slow strokes. 

Carmen collapsed on top of you, his own mind racing and cloudy, chest heaving against yours. You sighed, welcoming the weight of him on top of you. It was heavy, a little crushing, but safe in a way. It was him, smothering you in the best way. 

He rolled off, a few huffs before he was beside you, feeling his release run out of you. You didn’t even care, you had the detergent- you’d clean the sheets. 

“You know I don’t like her.” Carmen muttered, still staring at the ceiling. You turned to look at him, silent but questioning. “Claire, or-or anyone, right?” Carmen’s eyes were rounded, filled with a familiar guilt that told you his mind was racing again. 

“I only like- I only love you.” Carmen corrected, lips pressing together, jaw flexing with emotion. “I-I don’t know why she did that, but… Like, you’re it for me. You know that? I don’t care about any of that other shit with Claire or-or anyone, because I just want you.” 

It was raw, a little hushed like he was scared to admit it, to say it too loud and scare you off- scare himself. But you did know it. Even through your blind, jealous rage, you knew it. You knew Carmen only cared for you, only loved you. And you felt the same way about him. 

“I know.” You nodded, reaching out to grab his hand, curling your fingers around the calloused fingers, bringing them to your lips. You kissed the inked ‘O’ on his middle finger, letting your nose nuzzle the skin. 

“I’m sorry I got jealous.” You muttered, leaning into his hand, hoping it would hide your flushed, embarrassed cheeks. “I just… I don’t know. I didn’t like how she was trying it with you. Trying to come at what’s mine.”

Carmen grinned, the possessiveness in your voice, it made his heart skip. Knowing there was someone out there so fiercely protective of him- wanting to keep him and love him that way. It was something he never imagined having. He was glad he had it with you. 

“I know.” Carmen nodded, biting back his own grin. “You got me, though. ‘M not goin’ anywhere.” 

“Yeah?” 

“Yeah.” Carmen nodded, sliding closer to you on the duvet, letting his leg fall over your hip. 

You settled under the weight, still cradling his hand to your cheek. “Good.” You hummed. “‘M not goin’ anywhere either, Bear.” 

“You better not.” Carmen grinned, playfully but he meant it. 

You laughed, a breathy light huff, lips pressing a kiss into his thumb. “Well, except to clean the sheets.” You muttered, feeling the wetness pooling around you. “Probably need to do that.” 

“Yeah,” Carmen sighed, looking between the two of you. “I need to put the rest of the groceries away, too. Kinda got… distracted, ya know.” 

You blushed. “Sorry about that.” 

“Don’t be.” Carmen muttered, sincerity in his tone. “You-You don’t have to be sorry for that.” 

You didn’t argue, simply melting into his touch, leaning forward so his lips were on yours, body pressing your into the mattress, pinned by his kiss. You could feel the burn between your legs, the raised skin on his shoulders where you’d clawed at him- marks that he was yours, reminders that you were his. 

[asexualsinner]

More Ghoul Headcanons: Kitchen Edition

Mountain

Hides his snacks on the top shelf to avoid the others stealing them

Has to use a recipe when cooking

Likes hearty meals like stews

Is an excellent shadow, will assist any of the other ghouls or Copia when asked.

Likes to just be in the kitchen

Is the embodiment of a pioneer woman mom

Loves to bake

CanNOT handle spice

Thinks cayenne is spicy

Favorite food is chili and drink is tea

Favorite snacks are fig newtons (yes he knows that they're made with wasps, he thinks it's funny)

Carries epi pens on him for the others

Rain

Is obsessed with making smoothies

Isn't allowed to use the stove after using water on a grease fire

Nearly burned half the abbey down

It's fine, he prefers salads anyway

Do not trust this ghoul with a knife he will find a way to hurt himself by accident

Is just a disaster when in the kitchen

Favorite food is smoked salmon thanks to Dew

Fancy ✨bitch✨ that puts mint and fruits in his water

Is the only ghoul to like Kale

Has a high spice tolerance

Takes forever to do the dishes bc he'll play in the water instead

Dew/Sodo

Favorite snacks are seaweed sheets and Takis

His taste buds went "weird" after his transition

He can't decide what he likes anymore, spicy? Fish? So he decided on both. Sometimes neither

Loves to smoke foods, begs Mountain for dried wood flavors for it

Dew learning to smoke properly was heavy trial and error, some things were edible some were very much not

His favorite changes weekly, but ATM it's smoked veggies and tofu

Is a big garbage ghoul, will throw everything together on a plate and eat it

Drinks coffee but doesn't like energy drinks

Has moderate spice tolerance

Will try anything once

Surprisingly one of the better cooks in the pack

Is lactose intolerant. No this doesn't stop him. Why would it?

Doesn't need a recipe, cooks from memory or guesswork

Has everything labeled and dated

Swiss

NO spice tolerance

Tries to compete with Dew, Cumulus and Rain and it never ends well

Loves comfort food!!! Give this ghoul Macncheese or pierogies and he's happy

Can follow boxed instructions or strict recipes but tries to "improve" them

Survives off of Redbull

Doesn't know the difference between a chef's knife and a paring knife

Thinks bc he's a multi ghoul he can pull pans out of the oven without mitts - has been treated for burns multiple times

Hates doing the dishes

His go to snacks are gummy worms or jerky

Will eat expired food thinking it'll be fine - it never is

Is a 3am fridge raider

Phantom/Aeon

Loves pancakes, absolute favorite food though is fettuccine Alfredo. Has to be fettuccine noodles, spaghetti isn't the same

Has texture issues with food

Absolutely hates ground meats, the texture is bad

Has a sweet tooth

Is a surprisingly decent cook, can manage without recipes

Baking is beyond him

Mistook baking soda for sugar once and Mountain banned him from baking ever again

Doesn't like eggs

Is allergic to peanut butter

Favorite snacks are Oreos or rice crackers

Enjoys cranberry juice

Can't have caffeine - gives him headaches

Aether

One of the better cooks in the pack

Is one of the only ones that can finish the dishes without distractions

Is allergic to citrus fruits

Has an app on his phone to scan packages for ingredients

Will practically drink soy sauce he loves it so much

Favorite snack is cucumbers and Italian dressing

Prefers strawberry jam over grape jelly

Doesn't like seafood

Favorite food is deer chili - shares this with Mountain

Wears gloves when cooking to avoid cross contamination

Cumulus

SPICE QUEEN

Has done every spice challenge possible, downs it like it's nothing

Like Swiss, can read box instructions but don't trust her past that

Has burnt frozen pizza before

Favorite snacks are tortillas and ghost pepper salsa

Eats jalapenos like candy

Needless to say she terrifies others

Favorite food is homemade ramen - she begs the others to make it for her

Package ramen isn't the same

Likes to do the dishes and help out in the kitchen

Does need a step stool however

Favorite drink is hazelnut coffee

Aurora

Junk food junkie

Favorite snacks are Skittles and kettle cooked potato chips

Prefers vitamin water over regular water

Likes to make quick easy meals like grilled cheese etc

Eats at the oddest times, breakfast is 2pm and dinner has been at 4am for her

Leaves her dishes in the sink like a gremlin

Has been banned from eating in the living room

Gets easily distracted while cooking

If she puts her mind to it, can make really elaborate dishes for the pack

However she makes a huge mess of the kitchen when doing so

Cirrus

Can identify spices/ingredients after tasting things once

Is also lactose intolerant, takes lactaid frequently

Loves Korean BBQ

Likes differing temperatures (cold food that's spicy, mints, etc)

Loves blackberries and celery

Is a very good cook, can make most things after trying them once

Her favorite drink is bubble tea

Has medium spice tolerance, like spicy flavor rather than the heat

Would rather dry and put away the dishes than wash them

Has a massive sweet tooth like phantom

[gemsofgreece]

How to follow a Mediterranean Greek diet

The Mediterranean diet naturally expands throughout the coastal countries of South Europe, North Africa and the Middle East but there are some small differences between their cuisines. So here I am writing specifically about the Greek version of the Mediterranean diet, known for its delicious, natural flavours and its significant health benefits.

Eat daily:

Olive oil: the pillar, the liquid green gold of the Mediterranean Greek diet. Olive oil should be used ideally exclusively for all purposes. It's dressing salads, it's used in cooking and in fact it's traditionally what is used in frying too. Replace all types of oils, butter and margarine with olive oil even when making pastries. The only problem here is that outside of the Mediterranean basin olive oil can be pricey, however that's the foundation the diet is based on. If you are interested in following the traditional Greek diet for taste or health purposes, it is good to really incorporate olive oil in your daily cooking. If it’s not possible to afford buying olive oil all the time (although you could balance it out by not buying other oils and butter), a non-Greek-typical but equivalent alternative could be avocado oil. However, I doubt avocado oil or any other oil can remotely compare to olive oil in health properties, taste or in any other positive quality 🫒

Vinegar: Just like olive oil, vinegar is a very important ingredient and is also used in natural remedies However, it can hurt a sensitive GI tract if consumed in large portions. A little bit of it added to meals frequently is very healthy. Apple cider vinegar is also very loved and used in salads often 🍇

Vegetables: no portion can be too much (wild greens, garlic, onions, cauliflowers, cucumbers, eggplants, beets, peppers, spinach, artichokes, zucchini, peas, lettuce, the list never ends). Tomatoes and broccoli are recent additions to the Greek diet however they were integrated perfectly to the Greek cuisine. In general, all vegetables can be enjoyed freely with some moderation in the potatoes, especially when fried 🥗

Fruits: grapes, berries, apples, melons, cherries, figs, prunes, sour cherries, peaches, pomegranates are the most historically loved fruits in the Greek diet. Since the middle ages citruses like the orange, the lemon and the mandarin are more and more loved. Greeks nowadays use lemon almost more than vinegar and both have become integral components of the Greek diet. Obviously, tropical fruits like, say, banana, mango, grapefruit are not present in the traditional Greek diet, however all fruits are good fruits and you can enjoy them freely 🍎

Legumes. Eat freely to the tolerance of your body. Legumes can be too heavy for some GI tracts. Legumes are a great source of protein and fibre. Choose brown lentils, white beans, fava beans, chickpeas, giant beans and black eyed peas the most 🫘

Nuts, seeds: almonds, walnuts, sunflower seeds, peanuts etc. Eat as much as your body can take, because everybody is different 🥜

Mushrooms: mushroom it up! A great healthy way to have them is grilled with herbs and plain or apple cider vinegar dressing 🍄‍🟫

Whole grains: this is the traditional way to eat grains. Brown bread, oats, whole wheat pasta 🌾

Fish and seafood: find and eat them fresh. Instead of buying them deep frozen from the big markets, find local fish stores if your place is coastal and has them. Eat both large but especially small and medium sized fish. Some fish like salmon and tuna should ideally not be consumed daily due to their high levels of mercury and fats 🐟🎣🍤

Herbs and spices. Feel free to use as much as you want however if you are interested also in the flavours of the Greek diet besides the health benefits, a tip is that Greek dishes do not contain extremely hot spices 🌿

Water: A lot of water daily and, mind you, plain clear mineral water. No flavoured water, definitely not sparkling water and ideally no other liquids in place of the water. I mean, sure you can have liquids but you should ALSO have plain water 💧

Eat a few times per week:

Poultry: Poultry and lean meats entered the Greek cuisine mostly after the Middle Ages however they are nowadays enjoyed as part of the Greek Mediterranean diet because they are tasty and healthier than other types of meat. Chicken has become especially popular in the Greek cuisine. Other birds are the pheasant, the quail, the turkey and more sparsely the duck 🍗

Eggs: eggs are healthy and should be consumed a few times per week but not daily because they can cause a rise in cholesterol levels 🥚

Dairy: Greeks LOVE dairy products, especially the various types of cheese, however they are often irritating to the GI tract and they are linked with rises in the level of inflammation in the body. This is why you should ideally limit them to a few times per week. One exception is the yoghurt, which is fermented and can be perhaps consumed more frequently due to its beneficial properties. Important note: if you want to follow the Greek diet, you should ideally opt for milk and other dairy products from goats and sheep! Cow milk is not traditionally used in the Greek cuisine often and sheep and goat milk are significantly healthier and more nutritious. The only drawback is the stronger smell, however if you can get past that, it is strongly advised to switch to those instead of cow milk. Another note: what is known as “Greek yoghurt” in western countries is not in fact a true Greek yoghurt. What you call Greek yoghurt is to us simply a strained yoghurt, a yoghurt from which the whey has been removed. Sometimes in western markets (and in Greek “modern” dessert yoghurt products) butterfat and powdermilk is added to them and they are mostly made of cow’s milk. Again, a traditional Greek yoghurt is made of sheep, goat milk or a mix of both and is unstrained. It also has a trademark thickened skin on its top (dunno if this is the actual term lol) which is in fact the part of the yoghurt that contains the most nutrients and personally it’s the tastiest part of the yoghurt but apparently it is not for everyone. As an example, a study showed that an unstrained sheep yoghurt has more protein, more omega-3 fatty acids and minerals yet fewer calories and fats than a strained cow yoghurt 🍦🧀

Wine: in small portions, like a small glass up to a few times per week and always in combination with your meal. You don’t drink it to get hammered, you drink it for the health benefits it has in very moderate quantities and for the reasonable mild euphoria it causes before it becomes harmful. The GI tract is linked to the brain and is detrimentally influenced by negative emotions. This is why it is important to try to be in a good mood, relaxed and peaceful when you sit down to eat. A sip of wine now and then can be good for that 🍷

Eat once per week or ideally less:

Red meat like pork or beef. In fact, beef should be the one most avoided not only because it is indeed the rarest of the common meats used in traditional Greek cuisine but also because you can’t separate the fat from the meat as easily as with pork. To follow the Greek style in a healthy way opt for goat, then lamb or pork and make beef your most occasional meat dish 🥩

Processed meats should be eaten rarely. If you are in a mood for it though, opt for Greek style sausages with herbs in or bacon at most. Cured meats like ham are better to be avoided but turkey is the healthiest of them. They are not a part of a traditional Greek cuisine though.

Refined grains can be enjoyed weekly but should not replace whole grains

Pastries. What’s new, pastries are not ideal for health. However, if you are yearning for something sweet, if you want to keep it healthy as much as possible in the “Greek way”, opt for desserts made of healthy ingredients like honey, nuts, olive oil and fruits. Chocolate came to Greece in the 19th century, however it has become an integral part of confectionery since then. Opt ideally for dark chocolate, combined with nuts or fruits such as oranges and prunes. Greeks especially love chocolate combined with nuts.

Soft and sugary drinks. Avoid them overall, especially the processed products in the markets. If you need a sweet drink really bad, you can keep it traditional by making your own sweet lemonade, sour cherry, pomegranate etc drink at home. You could also enjoy small quantities of lemon or mastic liquors which are good for digestion.

BONUS TIPS & PHILOSOPHY:

Try to find mastic if it’s available where you live. The mastic is a resin produced from the mastic tree, a species endemic to the Greek island of Chios and a small part of the opposite coast of Turkey. It has numerous beneficial properties, especially for digestion and gut health, and it combines them with a very pleasant fresh and sweet flavour. You can find it in gums that boost digestion, in drinks, in pastries and even in non-edible products like toothpastes. Learn about it and give it a try, no matter if you are interested in following Greek diet or not.

Greek cuisine does not go berserk on as many ingredients as possible (however Greeks typically add more ingredients than, say, Italians and perhaps fewer than the Middle Easterners). Don’t worry about adding as many foods and nutrients in one single dish. The most important thing in Greek cuisine philosophy is to pick the finest ingredients. Avoid deep frozen or precooked and processed ingredients. Pick whole fruits and vegetables from your local small grocery store. For example, don’t buy a watermelon slice in a zelatin bag from the supermarket. Take the whole freaking watermelon home. You heard me right. It’s heavy, yes, but you would be surprised how much tastier and healthier it is this way. Go to the butcher for meat. Go to the specific cheese shop for cheese. Go to the fisherman for fish and seafood. Go to the pastry shop and get a nice dessert instead of buying candies from the market.

Remember that in moderation you can eat most of the foods you desire, especially if they are not processed foods. There is nothing about the Greek diet that is restrictive in terms of its philosophy - historically the intake of various foods was regulated only based on availability and price. There are no foods you should limit due to any perception of them being “bad” and you should never feel guilty the moment you are actually having the food. Just work slowly and progressively by building gradual appreciation for healthy foods and prize less nutritious foods as occasional taste bud rewards.

As said above, a good mood is crucial when you sit down to eat. In the history of the Greek society this translated into eating with friends and / or family, maybe with the occasional sip of wine, ideally in a pleasant environment and always taking your time with your food. If some of these are less feasible than others, try alternatively to improve the setting in which you eat, to eat in an environment that calms you down. Schedule your meal so that you won’t eat in anxiety or hurry, if this is possible. Think of pleasant memories and feel grateful for your food. Cheers! Or, you know, εις υγείαν!

[willtheweaver]

A writer’s guide to forests: traveling through the woods

Getting from point A to point B is something that both people in real life and the characters of your story will have to figure out. Whether as a means to get to a plot point, or as a part of the plot itself, travel presents opportunities for the writer.

Hack ‘n slash- Where paths are nonexistent, your characters will literally have to blaze a trail (the ‘blaze’ in this case has nothing to do with fire. Instead it is a trail marker made by carving a mark into a tree. The mark resembles the white patch seen on the forehead of mammals, most often horses.) Being the pioneer is slow going, especially if the undergrowth is thick and requires clearing. Cut bamboo can go through the foot, poison oak and poison ivy can give a nasty rash, and biting insects can make life miserable. And then there is the matter of marking the trail. A character on the run will not want to advertise their location and will do their best to keep their trail hidden. But for others, they will want to mark the trail. Stone cairns, arrows, blaze marks in trees, and even sticks and knotted grass can point out the path to other travelers. This can be helpful to others, but it can also present a danger. Thieves and outlaws can create false trails that lead travelers into a trap or ambush.

Game trails- Animals have their habits. They like to take the same path between places. Over time these develop into trails that crisscross the forest floor. For a character on the run, or those who needs to make haste, these are a tempting choice to follow. But be careful. Some animals are able to traverse terrain too difficult for humans (narrow ledges, near vertical faces, and the gaps underneath fallen trees are not fun places to be). And your characters may encounter more than deer or rabbits. Predator species hang out around game trails as they can be fruitful hunting grounds.

Existing paths and roads- Roads can range from simple dirt paths to paved highways. These will be the most direct routes between the principle settlements in your story. Prosperous areas will have well maintained roads with travelers and patrols using them frequently. Characters may also encounter watchtowers, farms, and inns along the way. Poorer regions, those affected by war, or more remote regions will have less well maintained roads, fewer travelers, and few to no amenities between towns. And if your characters can use the roads, expect hostile armies, outlaws, and highwaymen to use them as well. And where the roads go may be limited to the most populated regions, forcing your characters to leave the path if they want to get to isolated villages, caves, temples, or even a wizard’s tower.

Use the water- Of course, you can have your characters forgo land transportation and use the rivers, lakes, and seas. Rafts, ferry boats, and ocean going ships are all viable options. It should be noted that these are not perfect solutions. Rapids and waterfalls will force characters back onto land until they find gentler waters. Storms can delay or sink vessels, and cold winters will freeze water over. Of course, a frozen river or lake is just an excuse to get out the ice skates. Droughts will dry up streams and small lakes, and recent rains can turn placid waters into unsurvivable whitewater.

Up in the trees- Hate to burst your bubble here, but swinging from vines is something that only exists in fiction. If you try to do this in real life, it will not work out well…provided you can even find sufficient vines or fig roots. Of course, in your story, you are free to do what you want. Nothing is going to stop you…well except maybe for your readers and the critics who will pan you for using what may be considered an overused and unoriginal trope. Other options include bridges, cable cars, or even zip lines.

Taking flight- Of course, the forest will not pose an obstacle if your characters can simply fly. This can be achieved by characters that possess wings of some sort. They could have a winged mount, or they could hitch a ride on a vehicle like a helicopter or ultralight plane.

Underground- If in doubt, take a cue from moles and dwarves. Tunnels can serve the same function as roads, with all the benefits and drawbacks included. Of course your characters will also have to be aware that cave-ins are a real and present danger. These can be natural, or deliberate sabotage. And your characters best hope all the recent tunneling hasn’t awaken any ancient evils from long ago…

[apolloendymion]

ok! i think tumblr ate my fucking apple cider recipe post. still, my autumn equinox tradition must carry on!

Apollo's Foolproof From-Scratch Apple Cider That Was So Good It Allegedly Landed Me A Boyfriend

you will need:

12 apples (the variety is up to you, i usually do half granny smith and half whatever's on sale plus a red delicious for garnishing)

10oz raisins

cinnamon sticks, whole cloves, star anise, nutmeg, allspice, cardamom pods, any other warming spices u like (whole > ground) (follow ur heart on the amounts, it's like garlic just throw so much in there. just go wild)

1 orange

brown sugar (i don't have measurements but be prepared to use a LOT lmao, i always buy at least one 32oz bag. you'll be sweetening to taste.)

large pot with lid

potato masher (optional)

two large bowls/pots/receptacles to strain the cider into

fine mesh strainer

cheesecloth or coffee filters (optional)

apple corer or knife

citrus zester

slotted spoon or ladle

the steps:

1. scrub apples gently under hot water to remove grocery store wax coating. core apples making sure all seeds & stems are removed. add apples, raisins, and mulling spices to pot with enough water to fully cover ingredients, and bring to boil. reduce heat, cover, and simmer for 1 hour.

2. scrub orange to remove wax. zest and juice, avoiding the pith & seeds. use a potato masher or other utensil to lightly mash boiled apple mixture so every apple slice is at least partially broken up, then add the zest & juice to the pot. bring back to boil, reduce heat, cover, and simmer for another hour. then turn off the heat and allow mixture to cool.

3. place two mesh strainers over two bowls or pots (and cover each with a cheesecloth or coffee filters, if you have them). with a slotted spoon or ladle, remove as much of the solids from the pot as you can and place them in one strainer (the larger one, if they are different sizes) to drain, then press out as much liquid into the cheesecloth as possible.

4. pour the cider from the simmer pot into the second cheesecloth and press. combine the liquid from both bowls.

5. add brown sugar to taste

cooking tips:

the times listed above are bare minimums. once all the ingredients are in the pot (minus sugar!) you can simmer as long as you want, so long as someone's nearby to supervise.

always add any sweeteners after the cooking process. otherwise, they'll burn and make the whole thing bitter.

if it's too acidic, add baking soda or more spices. if it's not acidic enough, add lemon juice, additional orange juice, or apple cider vinegar.

variations:

add 12oz fresh cranberries to the first step

sub oranges for lemons or apple cider vinegar

sub brown sugar for straight molasses, maple syrup, or alternative sweetener of your choice (I'd imagine fig or other fruit-based sweeteners would work best)

report back to me if you try something new!! i want to hear how it turned out!

serving suggestions:

add three or four cinnamon imperials (red hots) to your mug, along with a dash of fireball whiskey if you're so inclined. i cannot stress enough how fucking amazing this tastes.

garnish with apple slices, orange slices, cinnamon sticks, and/or star anise

if you have dairy-free ice cream on hand, pour some cider over a scoop. you can use dairy ice cream, but it's more likely to curdle.

freeze some in an ice cube tray, then blend with some non-frozen cider for a slushie

ok I've never tried this, but i bet blending with pumpkin puree would slap. PLEASE tell me if you try it

this makes a metric fuckload of cider, which is very rich and can be watered down considerably (seriously). share with your friends and/or freeze some to last the season (or halve it, i guess, but that's no fun :P)

[dullgecko]

Movie nights with the Bad Kids usually start with arguments. Not for what movie they want to see. No, it's because they disagree on the snacks.

if they're not at the Seacaster manor (where Cathilda will periodically drop off snacks and drinks throughout the movie) they have to go shopping for snacks.

As far as life experience goes it's good for Adaine and Fabian to get out and learn how to grocery shop (the other kids are still trying to teach them how to use a washing machine but that's another story). Fabian still hasn't learned how to check the prices of things and picks snacks almost entirely on the basis of vibes or how fancy the packaging is. Some of the most disgusting movie night snacks have been chosen in this way so the other kids get veto power on anything he tries to put in the cart (especially after the 30 dollar bottle of fish flavoured soda in the fancy gold bottle).

Riz will almost always pick quantity over quality, but popcorn tends to be his go-to and as long as they can get him to pick the better quality option noone complains.

Kristin and fig seem to be in a competition over who can pick the weirdest chip flavours and often get in a squabble when it's pointed out they only need a couple not 15 bags and they have to put some back.

Gorgug goes for fruit, fruit is not a movie night snack food. Movie night snacks need to be horrible for you this is law.

Adaine likes those snack size frozen pizzas but she is banned from trying to cook them. Especially after /last time/.

[adaines-furious-feast]

Not afraid. Not a monster

Inspired by this picture by @bitemarx

Riz sighed as he sat down. He was just so... tired. He hadn’t felt this tired since he was a small child and his entire head ached with it.  

Beside him, Baron sat, swinging their legs. Their knee hinges creeked with each movement. When Riz looked over, Baron was looking at him, their cracked face perfectly still, their mouth forever frozen in a small smile. 

“Why are you still here?” Riz asked wearily. 

“You created me, your Romance Partner, because you were afraid,” Baron said, as if he were describing the weather. “Are you still afraid, Riz Gukgak?” 

Baron cocked his head a little as he asked the question, then froze, waiting for a response. 

Riz turned away. “No,” he said. But he knew that wasn’t true. If it were true, Baron wouldn’t be here. 

He didn’t even understand what he was afraid of. So he wasn’t in a relationship. At that point in time, only one of his friends were even in a relationship. And he wasn’t even sure if Fig counted because Ayda wasn’t exactly “at that point in time”. Nobody was getting their kisses in, and nobody else seemed to be so scared of hiding that fact. 

Riz knew he wasn’t afraid of that. Because he’d told his friends that Baron wasn’t real. He told them that at the start of their Spring Break. Baron had been real to them for all of five seconds. His friends all knew he wasn’t in a relationship, and he wasn’t afraid of that, or even ashamed of that. 

Who wanted to be in a relationship anyway? He didn’t have time for that. Who wanted the heart break? He’d seen how Kristen spiralled after the break up with Tracker, somehow becoming even more unstable. He’d seen how upset Gorgug was, even though he tried to hide it. Even Fig, still in a relationship, was upset that she couldn’t see Ayda.  

Riz looked over at Baron again. Their head was now twisted upside down, and Riz realised he hadn’t stopped cocking his head after all. He didn’t jump, just looked at his Romance Partner and looked away again. It wasn’t scary, it was just Baron being Baron. 

Baron wasn’t scary. Not really. So he could climb up walls and twist his head about. It wasn’t any more creepy than a giant spider, and Oisin and his friends had been stomping on them for years. Yeah, the doll face was a little unnerving but with everything Riz had been through for the past two years, it was nothing special. Baby probably creeped him out more. 

“It is not my appearance that you are afraid of, Riz Gukgak,” Baron said, reading his thoughts.  

“No, I’m not afraid of you,” Riz said, quietly. 

“You are afraid of me, but not of my appearance,” Baron said. “Why do you think that is?” 

He needed to go to bed. He had aviation club in four hours and he needed to sleep before then, or his mom was going to be so frustrated. Riz knew she was almost as overworked as he was, and he didn’t want to give her another thing to worry about. 

Riz began to change into something more comfortable so he could sleep, but his thoughts continued to wander. 

He didn’t have time for a relationship right now, but he would have one eventually. He didn’t know if it would be with a guy or a girl or something else. He was open to anything, he just hadn’t seen anybody he liked yet. But he’d find a partner, and they’d have a couple of kids, once he’d gotten a job and everything, of course. Whoever he married, it would be someone badass. Like he’d told his mom, they were a family of goblin badasses. And then he’d have a cool kid to pass on his spy knowledge to. Not right now, but someday. In the future. 

“It is very rude to plan your future with someone else when your Romance Partner is sitting right here,” Baron said, swinging their legs again. 

“I didn’t even say who my partner would be,” Riz said with a small smile. “You don’t think you’re a badass?” 

“You do not like me,” Baron said. “Your Romance Partner deserves better treatment than to hear you say that.” 

Riz didn’t respond. He climbed into bed and lay down, closing his eyes but sleep wouldn’t come.  

“You are afraid, Riz Gukgak, that you will never find anybody you like,” Baron said from the end of the bed.  

“Go to sleep, Baron.” 

“What was that spell your principal cast on you at the Frostyfaire Folk Festival?” Baron asked. 

“What?” Riz asked, sitting up. 

“He cast dominate monster,” Baron said. “Do you not wonder why that spell was able to work on you, Riz Gukgak?” 

Riz shrugged. “Because he’s a racist?”  

“Perhaps,” Baron said. He brought his legs up so that he was kneeling on the bed, staring at Riz with those frozen, unblinking eyes. “Or perhaps because he knows. It is not that you are a goblin that makes you a monster. What is more monstrous than somebody who cannot feel love?” 

Riz stared at Baron. Baron stared back. He hadn’t thought of that. He purposefully hadn’t thought of that.  

He felt love. He loved his friends. He loved his parents. He loved Penny. He loved... 

“That is not what I am talking about,” Baron said. “You know that. They will all find Romance Partners, and spend the rest of their lives with them. How often does your mother spend time with her high school friends? Who do these people go home to at night? Their Romance Partners. But you will not have one, because you are a monster, Riz Gukgak. And then who will you go home to?” 

“I just haven’t found the right person yet,” Riz argued. 

“You have not found any person yet.” 

“I’m not a monster,” Riz said quietly. “And I’m not going to be alone.” 

“Of course you will not be alone,” Baron said, shifting forward so he could crawl up the bed. “You will always have me.” 

The alarm on Riz’ crystal woke him up. Baron was gone. He stared up at the ceiling for a few moments, gathering his thoughts. He wasn’t afraid and he wasn’t a monster. He just didn’t have time for this. 

[mychemicalraymance]

Gerard way nicknames :

Beautiful bug zapper to the world

The people's princess

Frozen fig

Pimple

Small fuzzy white insect or creature of some kind, like a satin fur mouse

Jeanne D'Arc, blessed by visions of flame and righteous fury

The fifth beatle

Helen of Troy for warped tour

[opencommunion]

"The Israeli government’s creation of the linked property account [between the frozen assets of Iraqi Jews and the stolen property of Palestinians dispossessed in the Nakba] was a singular act — something of a historic milepost—that constructed a zero-sum equation between the Jews of the Arab countries and the Palestinians in Israel. The political theory that underlay the Israeli government’s construc­tion of that equation rested on a system of moral, diplomatic, and economic assumptions that resulted in a practice of nationalization and naturalization that was riddled with contradictions. The government of Israel automatically assumed that the Jewish ethnicity of the Iraqi Jews meant that they harbored a Zionist orientation. It 'endowed' them de facto with that particular form of national identity before they had any intention of immigrating to Israel, and certainly without having obtained their consent. The Foreign Ministry was aware that the Iraqi Jews could not be considered refugees, still less citizens of Israel. The process of nationalizing and naturalizing the Iraqi Jews — while they were still in Iraq — was collective rather than individual. The par­ties in question were not consulted. As Sharett put it, 'I said that we shall not rely on the free choice of the refugees, but that this is a question of an agree­ment between states.' On the basis of this naturalization, the Israeli gov­ernment 'appropriated' the property of all of Iraq’s Jews in order to utilize it — rhetorically, symbolically, and judicially— as state property in every re­spect.

... In 1975, the newly established government-financed pressure group known as the World Organization of Jews from Arab Countries (WOJAC) ar­gued that Palestinian refugees should not be allowed back into Israel, since an involuntary population exchange had already taken place in the Middle East. ... WOJAC too held the same attitude as the state toward the property claims of the Iraqi Jews, maintaining that they should be used to enhance the bargaining power of the Israeli gov­ernment, not to support individual claims. The government of Israel has cap­italized on the population exchange argument to deny the rights of the Palestinians to return to Palestine or to claim compensation for their 'lost' property.

... The Jews of Iraq became hostages of—and a fig leaf for —the Israeli gov­ernment in its efforts to divest itself of responsibility for compensating the Palestinian refugees. The conceptual model that guided the Zionist leader­ship vis-a-vis the Jews of Iraq, as with other communities, held that Jewish identity and Zionist identity were one and the same. The national leadership assumed a monopoly over the community and its property, even though nei­ther the one nor the other was located in its territorial domain. ... A condition of the trade-off equation was that the Palestinians' national identity be annulled, and that they be regarded as part of a 'united Arab na­tion' that included Iraq. That approach forged one of the most pungent il­lusions harbored by Israel in its brief history ('There is no Palestinian peo­ple,' as Israeli Prime Minister Golda Meir used to say). The trade-off equation cynically constructed the interests of Arab Jews and Palestinians as conflicting a priori."

Yehouda Shenhav, The Arab Jews: A Postcolonial Reading of Nationalism, Religion, and Ethnicity (2006)

[allsadnshit]

It's crazy to have become an ingredient household after growing up eating nothing but premade and frozen junk food and now my grocery basket is literally: salted butter, brown rice pasta, roasted edamame, fresh fennel, lemons, fig newtons, coconut water, sweet potato, russet potato, and beef jerky

[cal-daisies-and-briars]

☠️☠️☠️☠️☠️☠️☠️☠️☠️☠️ tell me more about Gerrard biting it at the murder mystery night!

➰➰➰➰➰➰➰➰➰➰ what’s happeniiiiiiing

🚨🚨🚨🚨🚨🚨🚨🚨🚨🚨🚨🚨⚡️⚡️⚡️⚡️⚡️⚡️⚡️⚡️⚡️⚡️⚡️⚡️

Hey!!!!

30 for ☠️:

---

 “But I think someone commented on it being vegan.”

“Vegan,” Tommy agrees. 

“Vegan,” Matt and Mark from Harbor both answer. 

So there is no doubt in anyone’s mind that he chose the pitcher that was not supposed to contain clam juice. And still he died of an allergic reaction.

“Did your husband have any other allergies besides shellfish, Mrs. Gerrard?” Ransone asks Dorinda. 

“None that we knew of,” Dorinda says. 

“How quickly after he started drinking did Captain Gerrard react?” Ransone asks the party guests. 

“Maybe a minute? Two?” Eddie replies. “I don’t know. I was pretty buzzed already from drinking before the caesars came out. Time feels… Loose?”

“Two minutes? Less?” Hen frowns. “Really, I can’t say.”

“Could’ve been forty-five seconds?” Karen answers. “I’m not sure.”

“A minute and a half?” Buck guesses. “I wasn’t paying a ton of attention to him.”

“God, I don’t know,” Chim sighs.

“A minute,” Tommy answers confidently. “It was a minute.”

---

30 for ➰:

Tagging @steadfastsaturnsrings

---

He turns to see the kayak rack lurching, sending the top kayak sliding out, fast and hard onto the sand. It lands right where he was standing.

It would have hit him. Right in the back of the head. Buck feels a faint throb in the back of his skull and lifts a hand to touch it. 

“Oh my god!” Brittany shouts. “That was close!”

But Buck doesn’t respond to her. Instead, he catches sight of Eddie. 

Eddie is standing, a few feet away, arms planted firmly at his sides, staring. He’s just staring at Buck. His jaw is clenched. His eyes are big. He’s not really breathing. 

“Dad?” Chris asks, noticing his father’s frozen state. “Are you okay?”

“Eddie?” Buck adds. 

“How did you know that was going to happen?” Eddie asks. His voice is low. Accusatory.

“What?” Buck asks. “I didn’t.”

“You didn’t,” Eddie repeats. 

“I just… I had a bad feeling.”

---

36 for 🚨:

---

“We go,” Eddie says. “Together. I hold your hand. You grit your teeth. Maddie sees you aren’t the issue.  And then we bitch about them the entire drive home.”

Buck sighs. “Doesn’t seem totally fair.”

“It’s not,” Eddie agrees. 

But what is? The unasked question. Right. ‘

“We aren’t bringing Chris,” Buck insists. “I won’t.”

“Definitely not,” Eddie agrees. “I won’t even introduce him to mine properly.”

“Okay,” Buck agrees eventually. “Thank you, Eddie.”

Eddie smiles sympathetically. “I’ve got your back. You know that.” 

And he does know it. 

iii.

They do exactly what Eddie suggests. They agree to a single dinner. They dress nicely. They bring a side dish. Baked brie and fig jam. Something Bobby taught him. 

Buck reminds himself it’s all for show. For Maddie. For himself. But an insidious little part of him whispers a quieter truth. You still want to impress them. You still want their approval. He know it’s true. And he fucking hates it.

---

36 for ⚡️:

---

He’s not sure why this is so significant. It’s not like Bobby is doing anything different from what he’d normally be doing. Being friendly in a social setting. He’s just being himself; a happy, unburdened version of himself. Buck knows what the inverse looks like, too. But somehow, it is significant. 

A year and a half ago, when Buck first made the decision to cut his parents out of his life, there had been a sort of loss. Not a real one, but a psychological one. The loss of an idea maybe. The misheld delusion that one day things could get better, and he could have parents to celebrate him during these big milestones. That they’d want to. If he put in the work. If he could be better, be less explosive around them. Less sensitive. There was a long part of his life where the idea of getting married without his parents would have filled him with shame and grief and emptiness. 

He doesn’t feel any of those things today. No shame, no grief, no emptiness. He feels proud. He feels joy. He feels loved, fully. And he doesn’t feel like he’s missing his parents, in any way, shape, or form. He is not lacking anything with their absence. 

He feels like he has exactly who he needs. 

“Buck?” Eddie’s voice interrupts his thoughts.

“Hmm?” Buck replies. 

“You okay?”

Buck realizes he’s been staring into space, in Bobby’s general direction. 

“Oh. Yes. Yeah, I’m great actually.”

Eddie squeezes his knee under the table. “Good. I’m glad.”

Buck looks down the table at everyone who has showed up for them tonight. 

Yeah, there’s nothing empty about his life at all.

[rellsingsovern]

There’s no grounds, Jawbone!

On Wednesday afternoon, three days before spring break, The Bad Kids receive their late report cards and open them together. That Friday, they are marched through a door, expecting death.

The POV of various parents and teacher of The Bad Kids, during the days leading up to the Last Standard Exam.

It was three days before the kids' spring break, and Sandra-lynn was relaxing.

Not attempting to and failing, not half-relaxing and half-stressing, not even mostly relaxing and partially going gray early, actually relaxing.

Her kids are doing so damn good.

Fig is acing her warlock class, and while she doesnt love her daughter's lack of a consistent sleep schedule, she is loving her newfound passion taking shape in the form of paladin studies. Never before had she seen Fig commit herself to any certain area of study (one bard class in three years are you kidding-) but she almost found herself honest to god crying when they came back from Fallinel in January and Sandra-lynn, on her way to mount Baxter in the pale light of winter dawn, beheld her daughter crouched out in the front yard of he manor, praying.

It sure as hell hadn’t looked like praying, Fig crouched out in the snow, laces untied, strands falling out of her braid, a red flannel Sandra-lynn is pretty sure she saw on Kristen yesterday splayed out over her fish-net covered knees, looking for all the world like a bundle of red string in teenage form, all knots and floppy bows and frayed thread. In the almost gray wash of weak January sunlight she’d expected Fig’s red complexion to look more pink, but it was in fact a deeper red even then usual. Like it's summer, a part of her thought before dismissing the notion in favor of asking her daughter what she was doing.

Fig looked up, horns shining much more than they really should have been (7 am january light) and with a click of her fangs gave a toothy smile.

Praying, she said, tapping the frozen ground with a comically tiny stick from where she was crouched. Just really feeling the conviction, y’know?

Her infernal archdevil daughter ran hot as was expected, but the fire under her skin presented itself in the form of pranks involving shoving her hands under Kristen and Adaine’s shirts and her favorite party trick of lighting her cigarettes with her fingertips. Never enough to truly hurt or burn much more than paper. Sandralynn felt the frozen ground under her boots and wondered how it was possible the ground was warm and soft enough under Fig’s boots that she could draw in the dirt with her stick.

She had dropped a kiss on the top of her head with a quick proud of you, glancing between Fig’s horns at the patch of dirt amidst the tufts of grass in the front yard of the manor. Lips warm, cheeks cold, she mounted Baxter as a cloud swept across the pale blue sky, covering the weak sun and casting slight shadow over the image of a flaming horse in the dirt. Fig’s horns did not stop glinting with sunlight.

Now, three months later, the sunlight once again glinted off of Fig’s horns as she burst through the front door, a roar of laughter following her like the roar of fire. Kristen and Adaine stumbled through the door after Fig, clutching each other and giggling like mad. Gorgug stepped through smoothly, holding his crystal up to his ear and talking at a much more reasonable volume. She had been called into work extremely early and so was home at three in the afternoon to see the Hangvan pull into the gravel driveway. Listening to her kids shriek with glee and chatter amongst themselves, Sandra-lynn had half a mind to tell them to keep it down, but her muscles are relaxed and her mug of lavender tea is in her hands and the taste of pride on her tongue is so warm and floral that she can’t bring it to form the words.

Fig waved to her, slinging her bass off her shoulder, a laughing Adaine hanging off her arm. “Hi mom, Riz and Fabian are on their way too.”

“Got it. Hi girls,” She called from her comfy spot on the couch. “Gorgug, nice to see you. Did you guys have a good day?”

“Oh, yeah, it’s been great-”

“It’s been fucking amazing!” Kristen exclaimed. “I got Torek to skate in the hallway and pull a slogan banner behind it and she nearly ran into Buddy, that smug motherfucker-”

“And he was moping around Kettlechip at lunch and she looked pissed at him-” Adaine snickered, “Because he- because he told her-”

Kristen stopped laughing long enough to take a breath, look at Adaine, and slowly raise her staff at the ceiling which sent them both into another fit of laughter.

“It’s been great.” Gorgug continued as if he had never been interrupted. “There’s not a lot more to do before our spring break quest, and we finally got our report cards from last semester.”

Her breath caught in her throat at the mention of the quest. She’s not stupid, she’s known this was coming up along with the springtime flora, the quest looming over her thoughts like the sun that rose earlier and earlier each day. An image flickered across her mind, loosing arrows from the top of impossibly grand stairs, hands that she couldn't control burying arrows in Baxter, in Fig.

Her daughter, who had kicked one shoe off by the door and one halfway off, glanced over at her and abandoned the untying of her laces to move and stand over the side of the couch. Sandra-lynn tried to push the warmth of pride into her smile and the cold chill of fear away from her eyes. Based on the way Fig’s face softened, it didn’t work.

“Don’t worry mom,” Fig said, tossing her crystal onto the couch and hopping up on the arm next to her. “Max told me last night in class his party’s rouge found out the junior year quests are supposed to be really simple this year, like fighting giant snakes in a swamp somewhere. We’ll get the assignment on Saturday and we’ll be done in like, a day and a half, I'm sure.” She suddenly brightened, smiling with a very bardic gleam in her eye. “I can go back to Hell and write my next song!”

“First we should go to Ashgrove though.” Gorgug added, a hand over his crystal speaker, not budging from his spot by the door as a red-faced Kristen careened into his chest, muffling her laughter. “Help Riz with his thing.” He waved the crystal slightly in their direction and she heard Riz's voice muted by whistling wind. On the Hangman with Fabian, no doubt.

“I can’t believe-” Adaine gasped, “He tried to banish you, and failed, and then you- you did it to him, without- without standing up!”

Sandra-lynn sat up straighter. “Kristen, you have got to stop up and casting Banishment on people you don't like-”

“No no no, it was for class, I swear.” Kristen said, raising her head from Gorgug’s hoodie. “The cleric and wizard classes had a surprise practical casting quiz today and I wanted to just go with Adaine but there were more clerics than wizards, and Bobby randomly paired me with Buddy Dawn.”

Fig snorted. “Randomly my ass. That asshole was trying to embarrass you using his grandson.”

“Yeah, duh, but since I'm so awesome it didnt fucking work. And I’m glad he tried because the look on Copperbrittle’s face-”

That asshole, Sandra-lynn thought in vehement agreement. One day she would tell them the whole story. One day when her kids were finally out from under his thumb.

“Besides, Sandra-lynn,” Kristen said as she reached over Gorgug’s shoulders to his backpack, digging around on her tiptoes despite his sputtering. “My grade is up to an A+ right now.”

Sandra-lynn’s heart swelled.

“Which means at graduation I can just cast Banishment on his ass then, and there’s nothing he can do about it.”

“Kristen Applebees.” She chided, but winked at Adaine who had since stopped laughing and was helping Gorgug shrug his backpack off with Kristen’s arms still buried in it. Adaine gave her a wink back with a Message spell. You don't need to worry about my grade.

I never have sweetheart, she messaged back, heart swelling even more, lavender blooming. “Don’t obsess over your enemies too much, even if they are running against Kristen. Gorgug, thanks for taking the girls home. Are we expecting you and Fabian and Riz for dinner tonight? Also, Fig, sweetie, get your boot off the couch.”

The boot went sailing in the general direction of the front door and Gorgug snatched it out of the air before it could hit one of the vases of flowers Jawbone liked to decorate the foyer tables with. “Thanks for the offer, but It’s Roz’s birthday so I’m calling her and Gorbag with my parents tonight and I don’t think Riz and Fabian can stay long, we’re just looking over the report cards together.”

She hummed, taking another sip from her mug as Adaine and Gorgug started arranging shoes in neat pairs by the door and Kristen pulled a dark red, comically thick envelope from Gorgug’s backpack. Augefort released report cards to parties as a whole, and she remembered the excitement of the Bad Kids during the first semester when they had all piled into Adaine’s tower to find out Gorgug, Fig, and Fabian passed their new classes with flying colors. Jawbone and Sandra-lynn had got them Basrars to celebrate.

Fig bumped her head against Sandra-lynn’s, a mirror of that January morning, her daughter the one over her, warmth radiating down on her like sunlight. “Tell Riz and Fabian we’ll be in Kristen’s room.” She said, hopping down from the couch and sliding down the hall on socked feet. “Gorgug, tell Riz to tell Fabian he better have gotten Smoothie Queen like I asked!”

“Lydia’s out at physio, so be as loud as you want.” Sandra-lynn called out after them, only wincing slightly when Kristen crashed into the wall in a much less dexterous attempt than Fig to slide across the floor on the way to her room.

The kids left down the hall, voices fading. The Hangman rumbled up the gravel driveway fifteen minutes later, Riz and Fabian both stepping inside, toting smoothies and greeting her before heading down the hall. Laughter echoed through the stone and wood of the manor, and Zayne popped his head down through the ceiling to give her a wave when she got up from the couch and headed to the kitchen to make some more tea.

She considered for a moment to make two cups, but decided against it with a sigh. Jawbone had been working later and later as the end of the school year approached and he had a lot to do before spring break, at school and at Mordred too. They’ve been living here a year, steadily making progress with their renovations and various projects that came with living in an old busted up haunted house, but she wouldn’t trade the cold floors and drafty secret passageways and the old graveyard for anything despite the headache she sometimes got by living with seven other people. Eight if she counted Aelwyn, who had started coming by more often to subtly hole up in her sister’s tower and not-so-subtly do piles of laundry and steal snacks from the pantry. Six if she didn’t count Zayne, who wasn't technically living, but he was as much a part of the household now as Fig.

She was so goddamn proud. Her life hadn’t been perfect, and she’s fucked up and screwed people over and fell apart more times than she can count since she was Fig’s age, but it all had led her here. Her daughter had more support and family than Sandra-lynn had ever had, friends who would do anything for her and Gilear and Gortholax and Jawbone to dote on her. She was an accomplished bard, a powerful warlock, and a devoted paladin. Fig’s life wasn’t perfect. Sandra-lynn’s life wasn't perfect, but Jawbone had told her time and time again that life is never perfect, healing is never linear, and no mistake is so bad it can’t be fixed with time and effort. She had an amazing boyfriend and a beautiful daughter and an extremely haunted house. She had relaxed muscles and lavender tea. So what if there was a potential conspiracy to bring back an unknown god that may or may not actually be Fig’s god?

The Bad Kids would get through it. They always did.

Grabbing a fresh teabag from the pantry and a clean mug from the cupboard, Sandra-lynn started toward the stove, humming good-naturedly. Maybe she could order in tonight, spend the time she would have spent cooking sitting on the couch, watching This Solecian Life and tuning out all the rest of the world outside Mordred. No worrying about curses, no worrying about work, and definitely no worrying about grades.

She grinned. Yes, she’d continue to relax, and there would be no worry about-

An agitated screech rang out from the direction of Kristen’s room, and she slammed the mug down on the kitchen counter so hard she was surprised it didn't shatter like Fig had cast the spell. Sliding on her own socked feet, she flew through the hallways and skidded into the chapel of Cassandra with a shout. “What’s happening? Are you guys okay?”

Her heart leapt in her throat as she saw a splatter of red on the floor before she registered Riz’s claws puncturing the white styrofoam cup in his hand, Gorgug and Fabian crouched over him from where he was frozen on the floor. There was a look on his face she’d never seen before, and she’d bet a hundred fucking gold that no one in the world without Detect Thoughts would be able to tell if he was about to cry or hide or kill somebody.

Another flash of red, and she blinked hard, lavender on her tongue turning sour. Kristen was waving a folded up paper in front of her, face red as her hair, angry eyes shining dangerously, and Sandra-lynn mentally said goodbye to the her of the past who was drinking tea on the couch, no worries in her mind's eye.

Kristen screamed again, wordless frustration, undeniable rage lacing her voice. She turned and flung the paper away like it had burned her, which landed in Fig’s shaking hands. She turned to look at Sandra-lynn, and her daughter mouthed to her as her eyes shone like Kristen’s.

Bobby Dawn.

The paper in Fig’s hands started to smoke, and the lavender on her tongue turned into ash.

[strongermonster]

here's what we're doing, okay?

french vanilla frozen yogurt. or ice cream. it just has to be french.

zest an orange over top.

halve the orange.

take 2 of the slices and squeeze them overtop.

plop the rest in the bowl.

sprinkle with a pinch or 2 of kosher salt.

if you're not in an orange mood:

french vanilla froyo. the french is very important today.

cup of strawberries. fresh or frozen, but if frozen, microwave them until they're soft and goopy, and dump them, syrup and all, over top.

trust me here:

drizzle balsamic vinegar over top. especially if you have fig or hibiscus vinegar.

🍊🍓🍨

🧡❤🤍