#Pp!poison

[lunacy-loon]

Malfunction's Updated ref Certainly better then the old one in my opinion.

Basically error infected with what is the new name Pandora Poison Because that name sounds cooler then CT!poison yeyeut

[sualne]

luffy icon from the previous drawing, ppl on twt Really liked it so have it here too, you can use the transparent version if you want to put your own flags instead, pls do credit me if you end up using my art as your icon!

[4t432]

[sparkspropaganda]

[learnspells]

@deathreversed

P IS FOR POISON

ʚїɞ - "They're still slow, but they're poisonous. Let's try to avoid getting into physical range." This was Fern's fourth or fifth encounter with a modifier now. There had been enough cycles now that she'd figured out her magic was weakening the more she used it, and she had passed that knowledge on to the erune girl that was following behind her as she navigated the Forest of Airaisal in Cotes.

But it was dyed crimson now. They had to pass through it to head north, but...

"If whatever is causing this has already spread this far, do you think it infected those annoying pixies? That might pose a problem."

[inlovewithaspiderguy]

party poison: we have to rescue the girl from bli! i’ll put on my mourning jacket- black jacket, just a black jacket.

[p1per-j0hns0n]

Okay, this is my new characters Veleno .

He is a little CUTE poison spider🥺

[renchanters]

my work sometimes plays heat waves in the store and it will never not give me psychological damage

[darksilvania]

Kroelian APPLIN Ghost/Dragon The Pumpkin Pokemon Abilities: Harvest/Unnerve - Heatproof (HA) Dex: "It makes its home inside a pumpkin, looking for the biggest and toughest. They wait until pumpkins are at their biggest,, so they are more often seen during the fall. Using their own acid, they darken certain areas of the pumpking from within, creating patterns that resemble scary faces to intimidate any possible predator.” Moveset: -Astonish  -Bullet Seed  -Rollout  -Trick-or-Treat Kroelian FLAPPLE Ghost/Dragon The Jack-O-Lantern Pokemon Evolves from Kroelian APPLIN when given a CARVED PUMPKIN Abilities: Harvest/Unnerve - Flash Fire (HA) Dex: "It uses a carved pumpkin as its wings, it can close them to intimidated is opponent on its lantern form. It can created fire by using the pumpkins juices as fuel, this flames burn with a sweet smell" Moveset: -Pumpkin Smash Ghost type / pwr 80 / acc 100 / pp 10 “The users flies above the opponent and drops over it in its lantern form while emiting a creepy laugh-like screech. This may cause burns"  -Breaking Swipe -Flame Charge  -Trick-or-Treat Kroelian APPLETUN Ghost/Dragon The Pumkin Pie Pokemon Evolves from Kroelian APPLIN when given PUMPKIN SPICE Abilities: Harvest/Unnerve - Well Baked Body (HA) Dex: "It evolves after consuming some special aromatic spices, this gives its body a strong aroma. Its body produces fluffly cream-like ectoplasm that pours out from its back. This gobs of cream attract small spirits that can often be heard soflty wailing or manifest by making faces appear on the cream. " Moveset: -Whipped Scream Ghost type / pwr 80 / acc 100 / pp 10 “The spirits inside the cream on its back produce a terrible wail that hurts anyone who hears it. Might cause the opponent to flinch" -Dragon Breath -Spicy Extract  -Trick-or-Treat Kroelian DIPPLIN Ghost/Poison The Caramelized Pumpkin Pokemon Evolves from Kroelian APPLIN when given CARAMEL Abilities: Harvest/Unnerve - Gooey (HA) Dex: "Its gourd is covered in a sticky caramel-like goo with a sickening sweet smell, it attracts bugs and small pokemon that when they touch it become stuck and unable to scape. The two snakes inside the gourd take turns to sleep, so no matter when, there is always a pair of eyes watching.” Moveset:  -Fudge Sluge Poison type / pwr 80 / acc 100 / pp 10 “The user shots a wave of sticky caramel-like sludge all over the field. Opponents speed and evasivness are lowered -Poison Tail -Poison Fang -Trick-or-Treat Gygantamax Kroealian FLAPPLE/APPLETUN Ghost/Dragon Abilities: Harvest/Unnerve - Well baked body / Flash Fire(HA) Dex: "It attract lost souls inside is giant lantern where they are used as fuel for the ragin fire within. A second head has come out of its mouth, it is said to be a spirit from beyond, coming through a portal inside of its belly.” Moveset:  -G-Max Pumpgatory Ghost type / pwr 130 / acc 100 / pp 10   “The user releases a wave of burning souls from its lantern. This move burns the opponents.” -G-Max Pumpscream Ghost type / pwr 130 / acc 100 / pp 10 “The user screams with the voices of a 1000 ghosts. This move paralyses opponents.”

I know we are already way past Halloween but I really wanted to finally finish this ones, made them originally over 2 years ago, but they are finally done Since I made the originals so long ago, DIPPLIN wasn't a thing yet, so I took this chance to make a regional version of them too, if they end up getting an evolution in the next DLC I will make a version of that too

APPLIN and FLAPPLE are based mainly on Jack-o-Lanterns

APPLETUN is based on Pumpkin Pie

DIPPLIN is based on Caramelized Pumpkin

The whole line, but specially Gigantamax FLAPPLE/APPLETUN are based on the Sandworms from the Beetlejuice movie

[secularprolifeconspectus]

BREAKING: new records expose that Planned Parenthood will sell body parts from healthy, viable babies to universities for intellectual property.

In a batch of freshly released FOIA documents, journalist David Daleiden of the Center for Medical Progress has pieced together a horrifying reality: Planned Parenthood harvests organs from viable, nonanomalous fetuses with documented heartbeats from abortions with labor induction for research at the University of California San Diego in exchange for IP rights. In other words, PP dissects healthy premies who are old enough to live outside the womb after making sure they are alive and delivering them intact, per their contract with UCSD, in which PP gets to keep all royalties for patents developed from experiments. And the Spanish-speaking mothers didn't give informed consent to this. In other words, and they prey on vulnerable minorities for their babies.

How do I know this is true? It's because I am the associate reporter in this video, and David emailed me the documents to read for myself.

Evidence includes:

Transfer agreement outlining the exchange of fetal tissue for ownership of research IP

Research plan approved by the UCSD Institutional Review Board requesting organ samples from nonanomalous fetuses up to 23 weeks gestation (that's nearly 6 months old; periviability begins at 21 weeks)

Same research plan calling for verification of a heartbeat immediately before the procedure to ensure the fetuses are living (this keeps their tissues fresh; the fetuses cannot be given a feticide to "euthanize" (poison) them before the procedure, because this would contaminate the tissues; this means the fetuses are either bled out or dismembered alive)

Did I mention this plan calls for up to 2,500 samples from 2,500 fetuses?

Email chain discussing the use of heavy doses of misoprostol before abortions after 12.5 weeks (forces labor contractions to deliver the baby — may result in live birth)

Donation consent forms in English which state the tissue may be used commercially, but in Spanish exclude this info entirely (San Diego has a large immigrant population, so this is racist targeting)

No, I cannot say for certain that PP actually did cut up healthy premies. But I am saying, it is documented that they were willing to do so, and that should be enough to cause alarm.

Protecting premature infants is a nonpartisan human rights issue. Everyone should be outraged about this violation of the vulnerable.

I've had folks suggest to me before that this is just a few "bad actors", but they're missing the bigger picture of how the abortion industrial complex enables these crimes. It is a natural outcome of the system, and it must be dismantled. You cannot permit elective abortion without permiting violence against premature infants. Tell your representatives to divest from Big Abortion NOW.

[plant-gee]

one time i saw some1 refer to party poison as PP and i've never recovered

[diamjem]

mastermind

pairing: sebastian sallow x f!mc

summary: sebastian’s attempt to bend the situation to his favor backfires as he realizes he’s been expertly played by the one person he thought he could outsmart.

word count: 4.6k

warnings: manipulator x manipulator, possessive!sebastian, sebastian has questionable morals, garreth weasley is a menace, some swearing, no use of y/n

a/n: this is far from my best work buttt i’ve been sick for the past few days and honestly i think just putting something out there will make me feel better no matter how dogshit it is :pp i was planning on making something romantic for valentines but… everytime i write sebastian he just fully takes over so idk have some slightly unhinged seb!!

[ao3] [wattpad]

they say all’s fair in love and war.

sebastian lived by that adage—bled by it, burned for it. for him, there’s no price too steep, no means too outrageous to attain his ends. he has never been above a desperate measure or two when it came to those he held close.

and most especially, when it came to her.

the vial felt cold between his fingers, condensation beading against the glass as he turned it in the candlelight. the liquid inside shimmered faintly—murky as mud, but somehow heavier, clinging to the glass in slow, syrupy waves. it looked like poison. probably tasted like it, too. to be honest, he didn’t trust it. hell, he didn’t even trust himself right now. and trusting garreth weasley? that was its own brand of lunacy.

he could still turn around, hand it back to garreth, pretend he’d never even considered it. walk away, save whatever was left of his dignity. it wasn’t a horrible idea—actually, part of him knew it was the smart one, but before he could think twice, the vial was snatched from his fingers.

“oi—give that back!” sebastian snapped, lunging for it.

garreth held it just out of reach, smirking. "not so fast, sallow. before i hand this over, i need some confirmation that this is for a harmless cause. i refuse to be implicated in whatever questionable scheme you’ve cooked up this time."

sebastian cursed under his breath. his patience—what little he had—was wearing thin, and garreth knew it. the redhead had always been insufferably good at needling people, and tonight, it seemed, sebastian was his latest amusement.

he exhaled sharply through his nose, forcing himself to unclench his fists. he hated this. hated being on the back foot, hated that garreth was right to be wary, hated that he didn’t even have a decent excuse to offer.

because it wasn’t harmless. and he damn well knew it.

“i don't see how that's any of your business.” sebastian argued. “you don't see me asking why you have a polyjuice potion of the head boy, do you?"

garreth arched a brow. "see, that’s the thing. when i’m the one providing the suspiciously illicit potion, i’d say it is my business." he made a show of shaking the potion mere inches from sebastian’s nose. "take it or leave it, mate."

sebastian clenched his jaw so hard it ached. he didn’t want to explain himself—didn’t want to lay his cards bare—but he wanted that damned vial more.

"fine," he bit out. "let’s just say fawley’s got something of mine and i intend to get it back."

garreth's smirk sharpened, green eyes gleaming with intrigue. "oh? now that’s interesting. do tell, sallow."

sebastian crossed his arms. "no, i think that's plenty information.”

"right, well. seems you don’t need my services that badly.” garreth twirled the vial between his fingers and turned on his heel with an exaggerated sigh. “goodnight, then.”

"wait—alright, fine!" sebastian exhaled sharply, dragging a hand down his face. “he started courting her." his throat tightened around the words, and he hated how they tasted. "i need to put a stop to it. get them to break up by pretending to be him.”

garreth froze mid-step, then turned back slowly, his grin widening like a cat who’d just caught the scent of something truly entertaining. sebastian cursed himself, knowing there's no going back anymore. "merlin’s bloody beard, this is brilliant. so let me get this straight—you're out here spiraling because some poor unsuspecting sod caught her eye instead of you?”

sebastian's glare darkened. "say it again, and i swear i’ll knock your teeth in."

garreth, the bastard, just laughed. "and here i was wondering when you’d step in and do something about it.” he then leaned in, feigning concern. "but, say, have you considered simply talking to her instead of, y'know, committing identity fraud?"

sebastian rolled his eyes. "are you giving me the potion or not?"

garreth hummed, weighing the vial in his palm like he was actually considering it. "hm… i don't know. this has the makings of a true masterpiece, and i do love a good bit of drama… so tell me, sallow, what’s the plan? break her heart, then swoop in to comfort her?”

sebastian exhaled sharply, rubbing the heel of his palm against his temple. "something like that."

garreth barked out a laugh. "merlin’s sake, mate, you’re actually insane. your possessiveness truly knows no bounds, huh?”

sebastian shot him a withering glare but didn't rise to the bait. it wasn’t exactly a secret to anyone who cared to notice that he’d staked his claim on her—not in the sense that she was some prize to be won, but in the way the sun belonged to the sky, in the way the tide belonged to the moon. some things were simply meant to be; unspoken but undeniable. and merlin help the poor bastard who thought he could rewrite the stars.

see, sebastian’s jealousy wasn’t just a petty thing. it was greedy. cunning. dangerous. a monster that curled in his chest, waiting to sink its teeth into anyone who got too close. whispers behind his back called him reckless, obsessive, unhinged—as if he didn't already know. but he would let them talk. let them sneer. none of it changed the fact that he belonged there, belonged to her. and if some git had the audacity to threaten his place… that was a subliminal declaration of war if there ever was one. talk about putting a big, glowing target on your back.

and unlike hector fawley, garreth knew better than to stand in sebastian’s way. he shook his head before tossing the vial back to sebastian. "that will last you about fifteen minutes.”

sebastian caught it, rolling the cool glass between his fingers. "and you’re sure this will work?"

"as sure as i am that this is a terrible idea," garreth quipped. "love really makes one batshit crazy.”

sebastian scoffed, the edge of irritation sharp in his voice. “for your sake, i’ll pretend you didn’t say that.” he paused, his gaze hardening. “now, what do i owe you?”

garreth only grinned wider. "believe it or not? nothing, mate. i just can’t wait to see how this blows up in your face."

that sounded ominous, but honestly, sebastian didn’t care anymore.

a man does what he must when faced with war. he strategizes, he sacrifices, he does the unthinkable, and most of all, he doesn't hesitate. and love—well. that was just another battlefield. one he’s willing to fight dirty to win. one that wasn’t waged with swords or spells, but with glances that lingered too long, with stolen moments and whispered promises, with the slow, agonizing realization that someone else might take what should have been yours.

and in matters of love and war, you played to win, or you didn’t play at all. best believe, sebastian wasn’t about to lose.

—

the plan was perfect—at least, on parchment.

owl her, pretending to be fawley. keep it short, keep it cold—we need to talk, something vague enough to plant the first seed of doubt in her mind. ask her to meet somewhere public. specifically, central hall, right in the thick of a bustling school day. and then? under the effects of polyjuice, break her heart. loudly. cruelly. make sure it hurts.

she’d run. bolt before anyone saw her break, before she let a single tear fall where someone could see. and that was where he—as sebastian—came in like a knight in shining armor. he would be would find her, offer comfort. a steady hand. a soft voice. because unlike fawley, he wouldn’t leave her shattered and alone.

and then, as a final, satisfying touch—he’d defend her honor by beating fawley into a bloody pulp on the ground. though that last part wasn’t strictly necessary in the grand scheme of things, but let’s be honest—he already had it coming just for even entertaining the thought of taking her from him.

to anyone else, he probably sounded insane. and maybe they were right. but to sebastian? this was restraint. the merciful option. honestly, they should be grateful because he could have done worse. salazar, he'd thought about worse. if he fired on all cylinders, this castle would be ash by sundown.

he’d let anyone be collateral damage—even her own feelings—as long as it meant she’d be right back where she was meant to be. in his arms. he hated how easy it was to justify. hated that he could twist his own cruelty into something almost noble if he looked at it the right way. but guilt? it was a small price to pay compared to the fear of losing her.

sebastian is machiavellian, sure—but borne out of devotion. not out of some cold, detached ambition. and if he has to play the villain to keep her, then he’ll sharpen his claws and bear his teeth with pride. he would ruin everything—everyone, if that’s what it took, and he would call it love.

because, really, how many people in the world were willing to own that? to strip themselves bare and confess, i will ruin and be ruined for you?

only sebastian ever could.

so he stood there, hidden beneath fawley’s face, his heart a twisted knot of triumph and disgust. the polyjuice had done its work—on the outside, he was hector fawley. his voice, his posture, even the sharp, self-righteous smirk he wore like a second skin.

"think about it. a head boy like me and a delinquent like you?” he let the words sink in, each syllable weighted with contempt. "embarrassing."

he could almost feel the sting as the words landed, could see the hurt in her eyes. he wanted to shed the mask and pull her in now, but no—he needed to stick to his guns. this was war, and he was here to win.

"hector, i don't understand—"

he cut her off, leaning in close as if to inject every syllable with poison. “you don’t understand?” he repeated, the words coated in mockery, dripping from his borrowed lips like a death sentence. “let me say it again, then. perhaps louder so it can get through your thick skull?”

that seemed to pique not only her attention but the crowd’s as well. some slowed their steps, others outright stopped, drawn in like vultures circling something wounded. they knew something was happening, felt the tension thickening in the air like storm clouds. her eyes flicked around nervously, panic flickering behind them like candlelight in a draft. they were waiting. watching. the perfect audience for the spectacle he was about to create.

and still, he didn’t let her off easy. instead, he raised his voice. “you're beneath me,” he said, his words slow and deliberate, sinking deep like a dagger. “and i don't know what i was thinking getting involved with the likes of you.”

the words hung in the air, a brutal weight pressing down on her. he could hear the gasps from the crowd, the hushed murmurs of disbelief. he was doing it. he was winning.

but then, just as the polyjuice potion surged through his veins, he hiccupped—just a small stutter, barely noticeable, but enough to pull his thoughts back into focus. he steadied himself, fighting the sudden wave of nausea threatening to overtake him. his borrowed skin prickled, the shift just barely beginning. his time was slipping now.

“are you telling me you want to end this?” she asked, her voice fragile, shaking.

“exactly,” sebastian shot back, flat, emotionless. a perfect performance that almost made him want to clap himself on the back for. “from now on, stay away from me.”

he could see her lips tremble as she processed the words, and something inside him cracked—a bitter satisfaction. she looked as if the ground had been ripped from under her, just as he’d intended. now, all he needed to do was land the final blow.

it was going all according to plan, until—

“is this some sort of joke?” a voice echoed from the crowd, rising in confusion, breaking the tension. “what’s going on here? everyone, move along now!”

sebastian's stomach plummeted straight to his shoes as he saw hector fawley—the real one—materialized from the crowd like some kind of divine punishment, pushing past onlookers who parted with hesitant confusion. the towering figure of the other fawley loomed in the middle of the chaos, his face a portrait of bewilderment. blimey, even in confusion, he still held the same arrogance that made sebastian’s teeth grind. but this time, his presence wasn’t just an irritation—it was a fatal flaw in a not-so-carefully laid-out plans. merlin’s mercy, he hadn't accounted for this. he’d been so wrapped up in his own mind that he hadn’t prepared for the possibility of fawley actually being here.

her gaze flicked between the two fawleys, her expression caught somewhere between disbelief and growing fury.

this was spiraling. fast. what was supposed to be a game of control—of careful manipulation—was quickly turning into a losing battle.

"what in the great gods’—" hector’s voice broke through the spell of silence. he turned to her now, suspicion darkening his face. "care to explain?"

"i… honestly, i’m just as confused as you are!" she blurted, voice strained with frustration.

sebastian risked a glance at her, and his stomach twisted. her eyes darted between him and the real fawley. hurt had given way to shock, then confusion, then something worse—recognition, as if the pieces started sliding into place at an alarming speed.

then the hiccup came again, more pronounced this time. a brutal, humiliating reminder that it was all falling apart. by now, a rational person would have seen this as the sign to wave the white flag and accept defeat. but sebastian didn’t feel rational (and let’s face it, he never really was). in fact, he didn’t feel anything but the burning, anxious thrum of his own heart as it pounded in his chest, each beat a countdown to the inevitable.

so he did what any desperate man with nothing left to lose would do.

he turned on his heel and bolted.

his legs moved of their own accord. he could hear fawley losing it behind him—hysterics bubbling up in a strange mix of confusion and anger. even the crowd was erupting into louder murmurs, the whispers now carrying an edge of amusement. the spectacle had officially crossed the line into absurdity.

as he shoved past the crowd, garreth’s voice rose, mimicking the sound of an explosion. the bastard was standing off to the side, his eyes twinkling with an amused, knowing look. garreth's chuckle grated against sebastian’s nerves, his blood boiling in a wave of hot frustration.

sebastian didn’t waste a single moment looking back at him, but he could feel the presence trailing behind him, like a shadow, reveling in the disastrous unraveling of his grand design. the worst part of this whole thing? garreth had been right—this had blown up in his face. and garreth weasley was never right.

“damn, sallow, you almost had me rooting for you there,” garreth teased with a grin, his voice dripping with amusement. “bit of a letdown, really.”

the words landed like a slap, sharp and stinging, but sebastian refused to give garreth the satisfaction of a reaction. his pride was already bleeding out on the floor—he wouldn’t let weasley dance on its grave. instead, he found the first door that promised escape, his hand closing around the handle with the desperation of a drowning man grasping for a lifeline. he yanked it open and slipped inside, the door slamming shut behind him with enough force to send dust swirling in the dim light.

sebastian leaned against the door, his chest heaving as he closed his eyes for a moment, a brief flicker of relief coursing through him. he could still feel the heat of the polyjuice potion lingering in his veins, its effects starting to wear off, but he didn’t have time to savor the victory. he could already feel his form shifting back, the muscles and bones rearranging as his true self began to resurface.

okay, so the plan wasn't perfect. there were a few hiccups—literally and figuratively. it was pathetic, really, how quickly he went from meticulous mastermind to panic-stricken fugitive in the span of a few seconds—no. he knew better than to get lost in the failure of the moment. he’d played his cards, but sometimes the hand you were dealt didn’t lead to victory.

this battle might’ve been lost, but the war? that was still his to win. he would just have to think of another plan...

sebastian exhaled sharply, forcing his mind to settle. he needed to think—to sort through the wreckage and figure out his next move. but before he could, a voice—her voice—filtered through the wooden door, muffled but unmistakable.

“sweet merlin. please don't tell me you had something to do with this, garreth."

sebastian’s fingers curled into his robes. he could hear the suspicion in her tone, the way it sharpened at the edges. he didn’t have to see her face to know she was still trying to make sense of the mess he’d left behind, piecing together what had just unfolded like a puzzle with missing parts.

and of course, the absolute menace that is garreth weasley was enjoying every second of it.

“what ever do you mean by that?" came his feigned innocence, all honeyed amusement, the bastard’s grin practically audible.

"that was sebastian, wasn’t it? polyjuice potion?"

sebastian’s stomach lurched.

"where is he? i saw you follow him out of central hall, so don’t try to lie."

garreth hummed. “ah, well, it seems i’ve forgotten which door he went in… perhaps a few galleons ought to help me remember?”

sebastian’s jaw clenched. of course garreth was milking this for all it was worth. he should have known that little gremlin would still find a way to yield return, because why waste a perfectly good scandal when he could wring some profit out of it? and gods help sebastian—if weasley had ratted him out, sebastian might have to start planning out his murder.

then came a groan followed by the distinct clink of coins. sebastian barely had time to brace himself before he heard hurried footsteps, the sound of someone moving with purpose, closing in on his door.

"best of luck, sallow!" garreth called, his laughter trailing off as he strolled away, no doubt relishing the chaos he’d helped unleash.

sebastian had half a second to curse garreth’s name before the door rattled against his back, the force of it jolting him out of his thoughts.

"sebastian, open the door right now or so help me, i will blast this down to bits. you along with it!" her voice was sharp, a warning laced with frustration and fury.

sebastian knew one thing with cold certainty—whatever came out of her mouth was never an empty threat. she spoke in absolutes, in promises etched with fire and steel, just as he himself did.

he sighed, the sound laced with reluctant resignation, his hand hovering over the door handle as if it burned to the touch. each second he hesitated only fed the inferno building on the other side. he had run out of moved to pull from his playbook—no clever wordplay or sidelong smile that could disarm her now.

he opened the door to the very picture of anger, standing before him like a tempest barely held in check. her posture was rigid, her shoulders squared, and her eyes… merlin, her eyes burned with a fire that nearly matched his own—only hers was a righteous inferno, ready to consume him whole. before he could draw a breath, her wand was at his chest, the tip of it pressing against the fabric of his robes, steady and unyielding. it was a silent declaration that she wasn’t here for excuses or half-truths. she wanted answers, and she wanted them now—understandably so.

sebastian might have been playing war, but now he’s face to face with an opponent who plays to win just as much as he does. it would have been almost admirable if it hadn’t been so damnably terrifying.

"explain yourself," she demanded, her voice thick with an edge that told him this wasn’t going to be an easy conversation.

“where do you want me to start?" he muttered, his voice a touch more strained than he intended.

“oh, i don’t know, maybe start by explaining why you were trying to humiliate me in front of the whole student body?"

he opened his mouth, the words tumbling out before he could stop them. “that wasn’t my intention—well, okay, maybe it was, but that wasn’t the point—"

she cut him off with a sharp look, her eyes flashing with something close to disbelief and fury. "oh, really? what, then, was the point, sebastian?"

there was no easy way to say it, but the truth, raw and unpolished, slipped out. "i wanted to break you up."

the silence that followed was suffocating. she dropped her hand to her side, her brows basically shooting up to her hairline. and then—merlin, he couldn’t have prepared for it—she laughed, a sharp, ringing sound that echoed off the walls, and for a moment, sebastian couldn’t tell if it was the laughter of someone in disbelief or the kind that hid mockery.

“that’s what this was about?” she said through gasps, her voice laced with incredulity. “and here i thought i was a victim of another one of your horrendous pranks.”

“congratulations, sebastian. you’ve set a new record—what, a week? a week before you chased another suitor off. ominis bet me five hundred galleons you wouldn’t last a month… of course i had faith in you—" she smirked, crossing her arms over her chest. "but i should’ve known better.”

sebastian stood there, his breath stuck somewhere between a laugh and a curse. his stomach twisted itself into knots, a sick, tangled mess of emotions he couldn’t quite name. embarrassment? anger? hell, maybe both. maybe neither. it was all bleeding together, one big, ugly blur of what the fuck just happened?

and she wasn’t done yet.

“with such an elaborate scheme too. but did you really have to do it in front of everyone?” she tsked, her voice laced with mock disapproval, like a mother scolding a misbehaving child. “honestly, sebastian. i’ve half a mind to hex you into next week for that.”

he swallowed hard, struggling to keep up. “alright—now i’m confused. you bet on me with ominis?”

“hey, mind you, i bet for you,” she corrected, lips curving into a knowing little smirk. “ominis was the one betting against you.” a lazy shrug, as if that somehow made this less insane. “and honestly? i’m glad i lost. i was starting to miss you.”

“oh, please. like you weren't having a grand old time with fawley.” sebastian argued, trying to grasp back any semblance of control.

her lips quirked into that small, almost pitying smile, the one that always made him feel like the punchline of some joke he hadn’t even realized was being told. “oh, you don’t have to worry about that anymore,” she said breezily, as if the words themselves were nothing more than idle chatter, a passing thought. “he ended it with me right after you ran away.”

“and when you think about it, it’s actually kind of sad for me, isn’t it? being broken up with twice in a single day. in front of a whole crowd, no less. thanks for that, by the way.” she added sardonically.

sebastian blinked, caught somewhere between confusion and something dangerously close to amusement. this wasn’t how he’d envisioned things unfolding—hell, he hadn’t imagined much at all, other than his own selfish drive to drive her to him—but the end result? not too far off. the pieces were shifting in ways he hadn't planned, and yet, he found the outcome strangely satisfying.

his lips quirked, eyes glinting as he tilted his head ever so slightly. “i would say sorry,” he murmured, voice smooth but edged with something sharper, something smug. “but i’m really not.”

“oh, my sweet seb,” she drawled, her voice dripping with that mixture of affection and mockery he was far too familiar with. “i was only with him to make you jealous anyways, just like with any other suitor before him. and let me tell you, it works every time. every time.”

“oh, really?” he shot back, arching a brow, words dripping with challenge. “and what about all those times you came to me, crying your heart out over broken suitors?”

she sighed then, the sound almost condescending, like he was the one who’d missed the most obvious thing in the world. it was as if she pitied him, this strange, delicate sympathy for someone too blind to see the game.

she took a step forward, slow and deliberate, each movement like the winding of a thread pulling him closer. her voice dropped, turning into a low whisper that slid down his spine with the unmistakable chill of danger. "all part of the plan."

a shiver ran through him, and despite himself, he held her gaze. the words hit him with a weight he wasn’t prepared for.

"you’re not the only one who can play this game, sebastian. " she murmured, her voice a honeyed poison that wound its way into his chest, each syllable curling around his heart in a grip he couldn’t escape. "i’ve always been yours, you know that. i just can’t help it if i like to remind you in my own twisted, unconventional ways."

a sick realization crawled up his spine, leaving a cold trail in its wake. he’d been a pawn in her game, manipulated without even realizing it. all this time, thinking he was orchestrating some grand masterplan, when in reality, he was just playing right into her hands.

he should be furious. should be embarrassed. but there was something about the twisted symmetry of it all that made him want to laugh. he’d spent so much time plotting and scheming around her, trying to control the narrative, to bend her to his will. but here she was, doing the exact same thing to him, and what could he do but admire the audacity of it? she had played him just as expertly as he’d tried to play her.

of course this was how it had always been. of course, this whole time, they had been at war all along, caught in a game of endless, tangled power plays, one neither of them had ever truly been willing to admit. a battle of wills and emotions, and somewhere along the way, they'd both fallen in too deep to pull back.

sebastian's eyes darkened, his lips curling into a sly smirk. "you didn’t need to remind me," he said, his voice rough with something between annoyance and reluctant admiration.

she cocked her head, the edge in her voice sharp, but playful. "oh, i think i did. after all, you’ve been so busy pretending you’re the one in control. i thought it was time to remind you who really holds the power here."

sebastian chuckled darkly, rubbing his jaw. "alright, alright, you win.” he sighed, conceding—though only because he was enjoying this too much to end it. “how about a truce?”

she raised an eyebrow, intrigued. "a truce?”

the corner of his mouth twitched upwards as he leaned in, his gaze locking with hers. “no? how about a date, then?”

for a moment, her eyes flared with that unmistakable challenge—the same look he’d seen so many times before, the one that made him feel both like a moth to the flame and the one wielding the match, but it was quickly masked by that teasing, almost predatory smile she always wore when she knew she had the upper hand. when she knew she had him right where she wanted him.

the war was far from over. they both knew that. but, honestly? neither of them would have it any other way.

[bestiarium]

The Abatwa [Zulu mythology]

The Abatwa (singular: ‘Umutwa’) are a strange species of very tiny human-like creatures.

These peculiar beings make their homes in anthills, as they seem to have a mutualistic relationship of some sort with ants. Despite their diminutive stature, the Abatwa are ferocious hunters and are able to kill animals, which they consume entirely before moving on.

They are skilled archers and although their tiny arrows may be as small as a splinter, the Abatwa coat their arrowheads with an incredibly potent venom that can even kill humans. When a target is struck with one of these arrows, the strange poison causes immense bleeding, and the victim dies soon after. Because of this, the Zulu greatly feared the Abatwa.

Generally speaking, the Abatwa are incredibly self-conscious about their height and are even willing to kill humans for pointing out how tiny they are. Saying ‘I saw you!’ is a standard greeting among the Zulu, so people spotting an Umutwa would say ‘I saw you!’ out of politeness. Yet the Abatwa then immediately ask ‘when did you spot me?’

If you answer something along the lines of ‘just now’ then the Umutwa will kill you on the spot, because of the implication that they were too small to be seen from far away. Conversely, people who replied with something like ‘I saw you an hour ago, when I was standing on that mountaintop over there!’ live to tell the tale, as the Abatwa take this as a great compliment.

The Abatwa can travel on horseback to hunt, though they do so in a peculiar way. When these creatures mount a horse, they sit in single file behind each other, in one long row of riders stretching from the animal’s mane to its tail. It is said that if such a hunting party fails to find game, they will kill the horse instead.

Interestingly, in reality, ‘Abatwa’ is the name of a different tribe of people with whom the Zulus had made contact, and who are generally smaller than the Zulu people themselves. It is therefore not farfetched to think that the story of these tiny fairy people might actually have been derived from the first contact between these two cultures. Eventually, the story got retold enough times and twisted to the point of fiction.

Source: Callaway, H., 1868, Nursery tales, traditions, and histories of the Zulus, in their own words, with a translation into English, Volume I, Springvale, 410 pp., p.352-355.

(image source 1: Agung Wulandana, illustration for ‘Mythical Creatures of Africa, 2016’)

(image source 2: Stephen Player)

[hallowpen]

The Concepts of Community & Family as it Relates to Thai Buddhism in Peaceful Property

I really really enjoyed watching this series. I am someone who grew disillusioned with Buddhism at a young age for very personal reasons, only to find my own version of a relationship with it as I grew older and learned to appreciate it from a different perspective. So the spiritual meaning behind this series really resonated with me.

I can only explain things to the best of my personal knowledge, so my apologies if anything is factually incorrect.

There are four basic tenets that one must cultivate in order to achieve true happiness. They are known as the brahmavihara (พรหมวิหาร). 1 - Metta (เมตตา): Literally translating to mean 'goodwill', it is a genuine concern for the well-being of others. 2 - Karuna (กรุณา): Literally translating to mean 'compassion', it is the recognition of another's suffering as one's own and a selfless desire for that suffering to end. 3 - Mutita (มุทิตา): Literally translating to mean 'kindliness', it is the feeling of experiencing sincere gratification from the happiness and success of others, regardless of self-contribution. 4 - Ubeka (อุเบกขา): Literally translating to mean 'equanimity', it is the ability to remain impartial combined with the understanding the we cannot mitigate the personal karma of others.

Essentially, the brahmavihara teaches us to always place others above ourselves... while realizing that they will be responsible for facing their own consequences if they fail to do the same.

How does this play into the "family" dynamics that exist in PP? Oddly enough there are certain facets of Buddhism that preach 'anti-family' values, as family can be one's primary source of attachment and suffering. There is a quote that states, "Family is the blood that burdens you." However, when a familial bloodline has lost its way (or in this case, has been "cursed"), Buddhism encourages surrounding yourself with a community that is organized on a familial basis... what we would call 'sangha' or 'found family'. Valuing the members of that found family above corrupt ideology would realign one's path toward enlightenment. Or in simpler terms, the people we choose to surround ourselves with can spiritually save us from ourselves.

Home's family has been "cursed" by the three poisons of Buddhism: greed, hatred, and ignorance. Phon's greed and value of worldly possessions over others has led her down of path of literal darkness, toward a belief in the occult. Somkid's hatred toward his father has fueled his deceptive behaviors... which he saw as a way to reclaim a father's love (that he believed he never received) from the people who didn't deserve it. Home's grandfather was ignorant as to how his actions, or lack thereof, affected the family and community that surrounded him.

Home's own version of ignorance would have led to his own karmic downfall. The series does a great job of having Home slowly discover the true meaning of home by integrating him within a 'found family' that teaches him the values of the brahmavihara... which ultimately leads to his spiritual 'awakening' (in a sense).

Metta/Karuna: Communicating with and healing the souls of the spirits the group encounter, requires compassion and understanding... a sense of community/sangha that these spirits and Chobkol (the magician) were lacking.

There were several instances of compassion born out of goodwill, the most obvious being between Home and Peach. Forgiveness is a big deal in Thai Buddhism. It is one of the cornerstones of what we refer to as "harmonious justice", as it promotes ideals of true selflessness. Peach forgiving Home because he's seen the changes in Home and how this one action does not define who Home actively wants to become was really really important. Home and Peach exist in balance of one another... keeping them on a shared karmic path where Home can no longer 'turn a blind eye' to his family's injustices (we could get into that more, but that'll make this even longer than it already is 😜😜😜). I think having Tay and New take on these roles to almost ease the minds of non-Buddhist viewers toward a more Buddhist ideology was actually quietly genius.

Sangha is also what heals the vengeance in Kan's heart, born of the teachings of Metta: "We must refrain from inflicting suffering upon one another and be free from vengeance." It could have been woven into the narrative with a bit more finesse... but I digress.

Ubeka: Home accepts the rightfully directed anger and complaints against him and his family for the harm they have caused. His partiality toward his family, simply because he is related to them, disappears. He stands against his aunt and fights against his uncle at the risk of his own life. And he does so by still allowing them to face the karmic consequences of their own terrible crimes... whether they are at peace with it or not.

Mutita: Home celebrates Peach's dreams above his own wishes... without knowing that they would eventually coincide. I could even argue that their eventual correlation could be a result of Home's 'good karma' paying forward.

Home had to reevaluate his core morals in order to be free of his family's curse (meaning within himself). All these representations of Buddhist notions, born from within his newfound family, are what define Home's idea of the true meaning of home... and happiness.

[najia-cooks]

[ID: A pyramid of crystalline snow topped with deep orange syrup on a bright blue plate. End ID]

بقسمة / Buqsuma (Palestinian snow dessert)

بُقْسُمَة ("buqsuma"), or بوظة الشتاء ("būẓa shitā'", "winter ice cream"), is a dessert, possibly of Aramaic origin, eaten in cold and mountainous rural regions within Palestine, Syria, Jordan, Lebanon, and Turkey. It consists of freshly fallen snow topped with grape molasses (دبس العنب; "dibs al-'inab"), date molasses, pomegranate molasses, or storebought snow syrup (شراب الثلج ; "shrāb aṯ-ṯalj"). In Lebanon it may be topped with honey or orange syrup; and in Syria and Lebanon it may also be called سويق or سويقة ("sawīq" or "sawīqa").

Buqsuma is eaten for only a few days a year at the end of the snowy season in February. An old rhyme cautions against eating snow too early in the season:

أول تلجة دم تانية تلجة سم تالتة تلجة كل ولا تهتم

("ʔawwal tallaja damm "tānya tallaja samm "tālta tallaja kul wa lā tahtamm")

("The first snowfall is blood "The second snowfall is poison "The third snowfall, eat and don't worry")

Journalist Hussein Saqr speculates that the intention may be to allow the first snows to clear the air from summer and fall dust and other pollutants before the snow is safe to consume.

During these late winter days, eating and sharing buqsuma becomes a social ritual; guests are invited to share the dessert from a wide platter, or given individual bowls to dress to their taste with syrup, milk, and sugar. Children bring bowls of snow inside and eat buqsuma by the fire to warm up and recuperate from a day at play.

In Syria, buqsuma is prepared especially in the مُحافظة السويداء ("Muḥāfaẓat as-Suwaydā'"; Suwayda Governorate) in the south; in the طرْطوس ("Ṭarṭūs") and إدلب ("'Idlib") Governorates in the northeast; and along the جبال لبنان الشرقية ("Jibāl Lubnān ash-Sharqiyya"; Anti-Lebanon mountain range) from جبل الشيخ ("Jabal ash-Shaykh"; Mountain of the Sheikh / "Mount Hebron") to the جبال القلمون ("Jibāl al-Qalamūn"; Qalamoun Mountains) in Damascus Governorate.

In Palestine

Within Palestine, buqsuma is eaten only in الخليل ("Al-Khalīl" / "Hebron"), in the occupied West Bank. Palestinian food writer Reem Kassis points out that the regional specificity of the dish is due to the nature of the land: Al-Khalil is one of the few places in Palestine to receive snow.

Al-Khalil is also famous for its viticulture. "It is well known among Palestinians that Al-Khalil grows the best grapes," according to embroidery artist Wafa Ghnaim. Though grape vines have existed in Palestine since antiquity, Al-Khalil was one of the few locales to maintain them even during the Crusades, which caused the abandonment of olive and grape orchards elsewhere. As with oranges and pomegranates, an association between terroir, agriculture, and design reveals itself in Palestinian art: the قطف عنيب ("qiṭf 'inab"; "bunch of grapes") motif is common in Al-Khalil embroidery (تطريز; "taṭrīz"; often transliterated "tatreez").

Around 1700, Rabbi Gedalia mentions Al-Khalil's grapes as being particularly praiseworthy:

ויש בא"י הרבה פירות האילן, כגון ענבים, תאנים, ורמונים, זתים […]. והענבים הם גדולים ועגולים בירושלים. אבל בחברון תוב"ב הם מרובים וגדולים מן הענבים אשר בירושלים. וכשמוכרים את הענבים של חברון בירושלים משבחים אותם וצועקים: בואו ותקנו הענבים של חברון ! ומענב אחד מתמלא הפה ממשקה. And there are in the land of Israel many tree fruits, such as grapes, figs, pomegranates, and olives [...]. The grapes are big and round in Jerusalem, but in Hebron they are more numerous and larger than the grapes in Jerusalem. And when vendors sell the grapes of Hebron in Jerusalem, they praise them and shout: Come and buy the grapes of Hebron! And one grape fills the mouth with nectar. (pp. 337-8)

Al-Khalil's viticulture is closely integrated with Palestinian food culture. Three distinct harvests yield different products. In the early spring, some of the leaves from the grape vines (وَرَق الدوالي; "waraq ad-dūwāli") will be harvested, when they are young, tender, and sour: good for stuffing with rice, meat, and vegetable fillings to make several popular Palestinian dishes.

Later in the spring, grape farmers harvest early, sour grapes (حصرم; "ḥiṣrim"; Levantine dialect "ḥuṣrum"). Some of these will be pressed to make عصير حصرم ("'aṣīr ḥuṣrum"; "juice of sour grapes"), a tart liquid that may be drunk plain, or used to give acidity to soups or salads. Others will be pickled in brine, or dried and ground to make a sour condiment called "سماق الحصرم" ("sumāq al-ḥuṣrum," "sour grape sumac").

The third harvest is in the late summer, when the grapes have fully ripened. Grape farmers in Al-Khalil may sell some of their summer harvests to Palestinian wineries and arak distilleries. Other ripe grapes will be pressed and their juice boiled down and dried to produce مَلبَن ("malban"), a Levantine fruit leather. And still more of this juice will be reduced into dibs al-'inab, which is then used to make buqsuma, added to tea as a sweetener, or mixed into tahina and scooped up with bread; it is especially popular during Ramadan as a quick way to boost energy.

Dibs al-'inab has been produced in Palestine for hundreds of years. Rabbi Gedalia describes grape molasses, which he calls "grape honey" ("דבש של ענבים"; "dvash shel 'anavim"):

שמבשלים את התירוש היוצא מן הענבים מיד כשסוחטין אותן, והוא אז מתוק מאוד כדבש ממש, וכ"כ מבשלים עד שנעשה עב כמו דבש. They cook the must which is expressed from the grapes immediately after they are squeezed. It is then very sweet, like real [bee's] honey. Then they cook it again until it becomes thick as honey. (p. 338)

The recipe below is for buqsuma with Al-Khalil-style grape molasses.

[ID: An extreme close-up on snow crystals topped with syrup in bright white and various shades of orange; bubbles are trapped throughout the syrup. End ID]

Viticulture Under Occupation

Today, the tending and harvesting of grapes in Al-Khalil take place under the shadow of Israeli settlements. Israel encourages the transfer of settler populations to settlements in Al-Khalil—including particularly fervent Israeli nationalist cells in the middle of Palestinian areas—with financial incentives and the creation of infrastructure that only settlers can move through freely. Palestinians are forbidden to drive in the "H2" area of Al-Khalil, which encompasses the central Old City and the الحرم الإبراهيمي ("Al-Ḥaram al-Ibrāhīmī"; Sanctuary of Abraham), and has been under Israeli military control since 1997. Israel conducts regular raids in the nominally Palestinian "H1" area, forcing people to leave their homes, destroying property, and committing arbitrary arrests and imprisonments.

The rapid expansion of settlements in the areas around Al-Khalil, such as those in what Israel calls גּוּשׁ עֶצְיוֹן (“Gush Etzion”; Etzion Bloc) and גִּבְעַת חַרְסִינָה ("Givat Harsina"), pushes Palestinians into ever-smaller and denser areas surrounded by settlements, rendering them still more vulnerable to Israeli control.

Alessandro Petti describes the strategy by which Israel fragments and isolates Palestinian areas, while allowing flow of movement between territories for non-Palestinians, as a distinction between free-flowing settler "archipelagoes" and Palestinian "enclaves." Infrastructure such as patrols, roadblocks, barriers, curfews, strip-searches and thorough searches of luggage—to which only Palestinians are subjected—make travel a time-consuming, nerve-wracking, and uncertain process: one that may end with being denied a permit, turned back from a border, or jailed for driving on a road which turns out to be prohibited to Palestinians. Because the rules are constantly changing, Palestinians may continue to avoid a road that is no longer actively barricaded out of fear that attempting to traverse it will lead to arrest.

Official Israeli military policy and settler violence alike cast a pall on Palestinian agricultural tradition and innovation. Farming and shepherding communities in the southern hills of Al-Khalil have been subjected to harassment, home demolition, and forced displacement at the hands of settlers and military bulldozers. Settlers burn grape and olive orchards and cut down mature grape vines. Palestinians are no longer allowed to access ancestral agricultural land that has been overtaken by colonists. Israeli military orders and settler harassment emptied Al Khalil's Old Souq of its vegetable and fruit markets in 2000; in 2019, plans were made to raze Palestinian shops and build a new settlement atop them. These plans would move forward in July of 2023.

Reprisal and collective punishment in the wake of militants' October 7th attacks on settlers have been felt in the West Bank and also impact agriculture in Al-Khalil. Grapes rot on the vine with farmers forbidden to tend them. Streets have been closed, shutting Palestinian farmers into their homes, while Palestinian shepherds in villages in the Al-Khalil area have been displaced and harassed with drones. Settler attacks and destruction of crops, already on a continual uptick for the previous several years, increased to a new high in 2023.

Olives, Grapes, and Resistance

Agriculture has been an important site of Palestinian resistance to settler incursion as, despite harassment, surveillence, and violence, Palestinians insist on staying on their land and in their homes. The Palestinian minority who inhabit the H2 area of Hebron, continuing to tend their olive trees, prevent the area from becoming settler-only and keep alive the hope that Al-Khalil will not become a "ghost town."

Various projects based in Al-Khalil combat settler technologies and strategies. Farmers in Al-Khalil launched the Cooperative Society for Agricultural Marketing and Processing in 1984 to increase grape farmers' self-sufficiency, reduce produce waste, and contribute to the production of Palestinian grape delicacies. The 2022 Counter Surveillance project, launched by Palestinian activist Issa Amro and artist Adam Broomberg, meets the Israeli security cameras stationed among Al-Khalil's olive groves with its own video feed, livestreamed online and to art museums.

Palestine's annual grape festival at حلحول ("Ḥalḥūl"), just north of Al-Khalil, took place in 2023 as scheduled; farmers displayed boxes of grapes of all colors and varieties, and sold dibs, malban, raisins, and jam. And Palestinian farmers and activists contribute to resurgences of indigenous seed varieties—such as the دابوقي ("dābūqi") grape, historically particularly prominent in Al-Khalil—in an effort to preserve Palestine's biodiversity and economic self-sufficiency.

Buy seeds from the Palestinian Heirloom Seed Library

Help Palestinian families evacuate Gaza

Contribute to an eSIM donation drive

Ingredients:

For the syrup (makes 2/3 cup):

2.5kg (5.5lb) tart green grapes, stems removed

For the base:

A large bowl of fresh snow

If it doesn't snow where you live, you can try making shaved ice using a snowcone machine; putting water in an ice-cream maker until you achieve a slushy texture; or running ice cubes through a blender.

Instructions:

For the syrup:

1. Remove grapes from their stems and rinse.

2. In a large bowl, mash and muddle grapes with your hands or a potato or bean masher; or pass grapes through a blender, food mill, or juicer.

3. Strain mashed grapes through a metal strainer, and then a cheesecloth (if you used a juicer, skip right to the cheesecloth). I had 4 cups (1 litre) of grape juice at this point.

4. Pour grape juice into a thick-bottomed pot with a large diameter, preferably one with a light-colored bottom. Heat on medium to bring to a boil.

5. Continue simmering juice, skimming scum off the surface as it arises. Occasionally wipe down the edges of the pot with a wet pastry brush to prevent sugar from sticking and burning.

6. Eventually scum will stop rising. Continue to simmer until several shades darker in color and bubbling vigorously. Syrup should still pour freely, and just barely coat the back of a spoon. I had just over 2/3 cup (160 mL) at this point.

7. Remove from heat and allow to cool slightly before pouring into a jar. Allow to cool to room temperature before refrigerating. If you want to keep the syrup for multiple months or at room temperature, use a sterilized jar.

Compost the grape peels, or reserve to make fruit scrap vinegar.

For the dish:

1. Set a large bowl out several hours into a heavy snowfall; or collect just the top layer of freshly fallen snow after it has been snowing for several hours. Snow that falls earlier in a snowfall, or that has been sitting out for a longer period of time, is more likely to contain pollutants.

2. Compact the snow with a spoon to make the texture homogenous. Some people run it through a blender. Fill individual serving bowls with snow.

3. Pour cooled molasses to taste onto the snow and mix.

[deepzekrom]

[EMERGENCY EMERGENCY]

[AN ULTRA DEITY HAS BEEN SPOTTED IN YOUR LOCAL AREA, STAY HIDDEN UNTIL THE AUTHORITIES ARRIVE]

Codename: UB-?? Pressure Name: Cardiarch (Full Body Form) Category: The Mangled Pokemon Type: Poison/Dark Ability: Hi-Pressure* *Cardiarch's own unstable anatomy causes it to overexert itself, boosting its offensive moves power by 1.5x at the cost of some of its HP and doubling its PP usage

Entry Log: Cardiarch is a marvel of Bioengineering, born from a single cell and nourished with a countless amount of DNA from all of Ultra Space.

It follow's orders diligently unless the life form that commands it is deemed weaker, then it goes on a rampage and feasts on the vitality of its victims.

It's mere presence can cause painful migraines and an increased heart rate, deeming it a threat to whatever poor world it decides to feast upon next.

The First Ultra Deity has arrived, be prepared for a blood pumping battle trainers!