#What is leaven

[yhebrew]

Puffy seders

Why did Nadab and Abyhu burn up on Month One Day Eight. Why is Dubai 75 years and now burnt up with flooding that began Month One Day Eight? Is God REAL?

Pesach 2024 – I have now attended three different Passovers in 2024. At each one I met friends from the past and we loved on each other. At my first Sedar the group controlled the food by serving the Seder guests the correct food. I did not hear any word about ‘offending the Gentile.’ At the last two ‘potluck-type’ of Seders I saw the same ‘puffy cookies’ and similar small cakes. The hostess…

[stellaluna33]

When I was researching Medieval "honey cakes" for the Hobbit party and read about what that probably meant in Anglo-Saxon England (oats, honey, and maybe some kind of fat), I have realized that the "honey cakes" Beorn gave the dwarves (+Bilbo) for traveling were probably... Pretty much like a modern granola bar. 😆

[vaggieslefteye]

HAZBIN HOTEL (2024—): 1x06 - "Welcome to Heaven"

[askponyinuyasha]

What if l glued shut your butt?

@reversal-mushroom: What if I glued shut your butt?

Inuyasha: How about I glue shut your MOUTH?!

[unopenablebox]

listening to the new if books could kill is really weird as someone who was indeed a teen/tween in the Emergence of Social Media Era, in that like. actually me and my 50 pseudonymous close friends of a decade are doing quite well thank you. im glad you interviewed some teenagers to learn that they use online socializing tools for social interaction, which accordingly has the features of social interaction, but this is a fucking bizarre thing to listen to people explain to each other

[bwv572]

I played organ today at a really fake and gay church. The pastors wore rainbow flag stoles, and I'm thinking what on earth are you wearing the stole for, you have no eucharist, although I guess that's what the catholics think when they see our priests with the chasuble on.

[heich0e]

Howwww are you making cookies without a recipe making them with one is hard enough :’)

i literally just threw things in and hoped for the best ! much like how i go through life

[datpanchoguy]

So, that was actually a redraw of something I never posted from 2023

Here it is. God I hate how this old one turned out

[yeslordmyking]

Deuteronomy 7:26 — Today's Verse for Friday, July 26, 2024

[luveline]

i have a request for roommate!spencer where he's just miserable that no one remembered his birthday at work but when he gets home his roommate just welcomes him with the most thoughtful gift and a warm hug PLEASE

thank you for requesting! <3 fem!reader

The lights are off. The air conditioning blows a shade too cold. Spencer shrugs off his jacket and acknowledges that, despite his awful, aching day, it’s nice to be home. 

The living room is clean where it hadn’t been this morning when he left. If he had to clean it by himself, he’d die. It must’ve taken a good hour or longer, even the floor shines sparkling clean. 

“Hey?” he asks into the open air, wondering where you are. 

“Spencer!” you yelp from the kitchen, “Hey, what took you so long? It’s almost seven!” 

He sighs to himself with a great dash of self-pity. “I know. Had to stay and finish something. You cleaned?” 

“I had to! Quick, come in here, I need your help with something.” 

He doesn’t want to help, he wants to lay down in bed. Spencer wonders how a normal person, a normal boy, would feel after a day like today. He wonders if Morgan would go home and lay in bed and cry. He wonders if it could ever be possible for everyone to forget Morgan’s birthday. 

Spencer hangs his jacket on the rack and puts his bag by the shoes. He’s tempted to go to bed and pretend he hasn’t heard you, but he supposes he shouldn’t. He’d sort of been hoping you’d text him happy birthday, and but that never happened. He doesn’t think anybody in the world besides his mom knows what day it is today, and Spencer had to remind her, so. 

“Spence,” you say, your smile of a calibre he’s never witnessed, standing in front of the kitchen island with your hands behind your back, “I hope you know I’ve been waiting two whole hours for you to get back. Actually, I’ve been waiting all day, but you can’t be blamed for working. Okay. Are you ready?” 

“Am I ready? What did you want help with?” 

You step to the side, grinning, the sleeves of your nice blouse like big, soft petals around your wrists and against your thighs. “Tada!” you say, guiding his attention to the silver platter on the countertop, a chocolate cake at centre stage and stuck with candles, flames aglow. “I rushed to light them when I heard the door,” you tell him, and he can hear your breathlessness now, your excitement for him evident. “A lot of candles, you’re getting old! Too old for chocolate sprinkle. I should’ve got you something sophisticated.” 

“You got me a cake?” 

“It’s your birthday,” you say happily. “Happy birthday, Spencer. I got you some presents, too, but the cake is the best, it’s from the Leaven. How fancy is that?” 

“Will you sing?” he asks. 

He doesn’t know why he asks. He’s mostly kidding, but you smile shyly and beckon him toward you. “I’ll sing. Come stand over here.” 

You sing him happy birthday, and he blows out his candles, only ten candles altogether but enough to feel like a kid as the heat kisses his chin. 

“Okay, and I got you this,” you say, finally pulling both hands from behind your back, seemingly eager to move the focus from your performance.

It’s a bundle about as thick as an average novel. He knows it’ll be books before he opens it, because you know him, and it’s in your nature to give him your everything. 

He doesn’t look at them. He takes the package blindly and shoves it onto the counter, wrapping you in a hug so hard it makes your back click. “I’m sorry,” he says, but he doesn’t let go. You don’t make him. “Sorry, I just– I–” You’re the only one who remembered. “Thank you for the cake.” 

You hug him not quite as hard, but tight. “Hey, it’s okay. I love you, you’re my best friend ever, you can pop me like a roll of dough any day of the week.” You might be exaggerating. Spencer doesn’t know. “But especially today, you know. You can have anything you want.” 

Spencer should let go. Anything you want, you’d said. He hugs you until he’s sure you’re sick of him, your thumb pressing little circles into his shoulder, his arms tucked up under your armpits and around your back. “Thanks,” you murmur.

“What?” he asks. “For what?” 

“For such a good hug. And being a great roommate. And for not complaining about the candles.” 

“The candles are perfect.” 

You lean back in his arms. “Thank you. Now what do you want first, cake or dinner?” 

Spencer really wants another hug. “Um. Cake?” 

“Good choice, handsome.”

His cheeks are pink by the time he gets a slice, but it’s the best birthday cake he’s ever had.

[almoststedytimetravel]

My rational brain: can we please just write a normal essay for once! This is only supposed to be 600 words. C'mon!!!

Me, halfway through writing a tangent about the classification of bread types: I'm sorry, did you say something?

[hexescore]

Vi loves watching you bake- whether it be cookies, cake, or something else, Vi is sitting on the kitchen counter and licking up any leftover batter. With a spoon in her mouth, she passes you the baking soda. "What's that do?" She asks, and in all honesty she doesn't really care, but she loves when you talk about literally anything.

"It's a leavening agent, basically it'll help rise the cake." You say, and Vi nods along, listening intently but only because she doesn't want to get scolded for not paying attention- otherwise she'd just let herself relish in the sound of your voice. It doesn't take you long to realize what she's doing though, not that you particularly mind, it just proves how much she adores you.

[buriedpentacles]

Choose your spell ingredients intentionally

It's all well and good to Google "spiritual protective herbs" and pick a couple random ones off the list, but do you understand why that herb is protective? Does it align with your intention?

I've always liked to use baking as an analogy for spellwork:

Let's say you want to bake a cake - yummy! You'll need flour for the basic structure, sugar to sweeten, eggs to bind the ingredients, a fat for texture and a leavening agent to make it rise.

So you pop to the shops and you grab bread flour, icing sugar, eggs, shortening and yeast.

Technically, these are all correct: bread flour is a flour, icing sugar is a sugar, yeast is a leavening agent etc. And they all work great for other baked goods! Yeast is great at making bread rise and icing sugar is super sweet on top of a cupcake.

But if you mix all of these together, the final result probably isn't going to be what you wanted. Why? Well because you haven't understood why each ingredient is needed or how a cake works!!

When crafting a spell it's important to understand what your intention is and how the spell is going to work - it can also help to think about how certain ingredients might interact within the spell.

The best way to start doing this is to experiment. Have a go at crafting your own spells and working with different ingredients. What does their folklore say? What does their energy feel like? How do they interact with the other ingredients! Keep a journal or notebook full of your notes as you build up your knowledge!

[dodgeballstuckonthegymceiling]

I'm curious about the if scenario of player who snuck away from platonic yandere Doey.

How would Doey or the three personalities react if player sneaks out of the safe haven but dies or gets badly hurt for some reason and Doey finds it?

If this makes you uncomfortable, it's okay to ignore

Oh, this is going to be sad. You have been warned!

If you like my work, please consider commissioning me or leaving a tip on Ko-fi (˶ᵔ ᵕ ᵔ˶)

Yandere Doey & badly injured Player

★ Doey was frustrated when he discovered you had snuck away. When he found you, his heart sank. You were slumped over in one of the interrogation rooms, badly hurt. But thankfully nobody else had found you, if someone had, you would've been eaten by now.

★ Matthew, the most "grown up" of the three, was the first to react in any meiningful way. "We need to help them. Now!" He can't help but blame himself for not keeping a closer watch on you. Doesn't help that Kevin shares his opinion.

★ Kevin's first reaction is to try and find someone or something to blame. "How could they do this?!?" He shouts at Mathew. Lashing out at him because he is the closest target. His rage, however, quickly fades as Doey begins to look you over.

★ Being the most emotional, Jack tries to let Mathew and Kevin take charge. But as he sobbed uncontrollably, his tears left through Doey's eyes. "Please don't be mad at me" he thinks. When you feel better, he will need some hugs.

★ He hadn't been able to protect you, and now you were suffering because of it. As the days passed, he barely left your side. Slightly paranoid that if he looks away, you'll try to leave again. And trust me, that won't be happening.

★ At night, when the others in the Safe Haven were resting, Doey stayed awake. The feeling of inadequacy loomed over them all. When you stirred in your sleep he was immediately by your side. Ready to comfort you if you woke up.

★ Whenever you speak about leavening, Jack's personality shines through. His eyes well up and tug at your heartstrings in a way that’s impossible to ignore. “Please don’t go. I don’t… I can’t see you hurt again.”

★ Matthew tries to balance Jack's emotions with logical arguments. "Do you remember what happened last time?" And "We can't protect you if you keep running off." He would say, his voice steady.

★ Being the last resort, Kevin will turn to fear in an effort to keep you safe. "Do you want to end up like last time?" he would ask, his voice lower and more threatening than usual. "We can't protect you if you keep running off." His tone was harsh, but there was an unmistakable fear in his words.

[prettygirl-gabi]

Title: No One Fights Alone

Pairing: Reader x Paige Bueckers x Aubrey Griffin

Fandom: UConn Women’s Basketball

Warnings: Injury, recovery struggles, emotional distress

Summary: A devastating ACL tear during the Final Four changes everything, but your never alone

I’ve been playing basketball long enough to know what an injury feels like. Twisted ankles, jammed fingers, a couple of bruised ribs—occupational hazards. But nothing could’ve prepared me for this.

One second, I was cutting toward the basket, the ball barely leaving my fingertips on a perfect pass. The next, I was on the ground, pain ripping through my knee like fire.

The arena went silent.

I knew it was bad before I even tried to move. The way my leg twisted underneath me, the way the impact rattled through my bones—I didn’t need to see the replay to know.

Then, before I could process anything else, two familiar voices cut through the chaos.

“Baby, don’t move—just breathe,” Paige’s voice was the first thing I focused on, steady but tight with panic.

Aubrey was right beside her, kneeling next to me, hands hovering over my leg like she wanted to fix it right then and there. “We got you, okay? Just stay still.”

I clenched my teeth, blinking against the bright overhead lights. My heartbeat roared in my ears, drowning out the murmurs from the crowd.

Someone—I think it was KK—was trying to wave off the cameras, but I knew they were on me. It was the Final Four. The whole damn world was watching.

I felt a hand slip into mine, squeezing tight. Paige. “You’re not alone,” she whispered, her voice cracking.

Aubrey, her free hand on my shoulder, nodded. “We’ve been here before. We’ll help you through it.”

I swallowed hard. If there was anyone who knew what I was feeling, it was them. Paige had gone through her knee rehabs. Aubrey had been through it too.

The trainer finally made it onto the court, but I barely registered what they were saying. All I knew was that I was being lifted, carried, and as the pain flared sharper, I squeezed my eyes shut and gripped their hands like a lifeline.

The days after the injury blurred together in a haze of pain meds; morphine and muscle relaxers to be exact, doctor visits, and an overwhelming sense of dread.

I cried when the MRI confirmed what I already knew. ACL tear. Surgery needed.

I cried when I saw my teammates leave for practice without me, leavening e in the PT room by myself.

I cried when I woke up in the middle of the night, my knee throbbing, and felt Paige pulling me into her chest while Aubrey rubbed circles on my back.

“It’s okay to be mad,” Aubrey whispered one night when I couldn’t sleep, my frustration bubbling into tears again.

“It’s okay to be sad too,” Paige added, resting her forehead against mine. “But you’re not doing this alone.”

I didn’t respond, but I let them hold me until I drifted off again.

The first time I tried to put weight on my leg post-surgery, I nearly collapsed.

“Whoa, whoa, I got you,” Aubrey rushed forward, her hands firm on my waist as I struggled to balance on crutches.

Paige, sitting nearby, her own knee bouncing in nervous energy, smiled at me. “You look better than I did my first time.”

I rolled my eyes, gritting my teeth as I forced myself to stand taller. “Yeah, well, I don’t feel better.”

Aubrey gave me a soft look. “That’s why we’re here.”

And they were.

Every. Single. Step.

Paige came to PT sessions with me, encouraging me when I wanted to quit.

Aubrey made sure I was eating, stretching, not overdoing it.

They both celebrated the smallest wins, even when I didn’t think they were worth celebrating.

When I managed to bend my knee to ninety degrees, Paige clapped so loud the whole PT room stared.

When I took my first unassisted steps, Aubrey wiped a tear from her eye, even though she swore she wasn’t crying.

And when I finally—finally—ran for the first time, they were both there, waiting at the end of the track, arms wide open.

The Mental Battle

Physical recovery was one thing. The mental part? That was the hardest.

I didn’t realize how much I had tied my identity to basketball until I couldn’t play it. I felt useless. Lost. Like I wasn’t me anymore.

One night, I sat on my bed, staring at my brace, feeling the weight of everything crash down. “What if I never feel the same again?”

Paige, sitting next to me, didn’t hesitate. “You won’t.”

I snapped my head toward her, surprised.

She gave me a knowing look. “You won’t feel the same. You’ll feel stronger.”

Aubrey, standing by the door, nodded. “And we’ll be right there with you when you do.”

I wanted to believe them.

Some days, I did.

Some days, I didn’t.

But they never let me give up.

Not when I hesitated before cutting on my knee for the first time.

Not when I had nightmares about reinjuring it.

Not when I doubted if I’d ever play like myself again.

And slowly, day by day, I started to believe them.

One Year Later

I walked back into the arena, my heart pounding as I took in the court, the lights, the banners hanging high above us.

I had worked my ass off for this moment.

And standing beside me, their hands in mine, were the two people who had never let me fall alone.

“You ready?” Aubrey asked, squeezing my hand.

I exhaled, nodding. “Yeah. I am.”

Paige grinned as we headed to the tip off line. “Then let’s get back to work.”

And just like that, I was home again.

---

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                 -Thank You For Reading!🩵🩶

                             -prettygirl-gabi🎀✨️

[thelordofblades]

whatdidyoudo with that jar of leavening agent HUH

you don’t know what it is,

you don’t know how to use it,

SO GIVE IT TO ME!

come ON i can make BREAD with it

BREAD

BREAD

BREAD

BREAD

Brffhphp