#but good lord this meal

[sardonic-sprite]

Tell me about a recipe that you made. Doesn't have to be a good one.

Let me tell yall about

Tuscan chicken

If I was ever forced to choose a last meal this would fucking be it and I would DEMAND to make it personally

We first made this on my parents anniversary. Mom found the recipe and we were gonna make it for dinner as a surprise, me her and my brother

We go out to the store and get ingredients

Come back start cooking

Part of the recipe calls for spinach to be chopped up and put in the sauce. They want 2 cups.

My mother. Somehow. Determined they meant by ✨️weight✨️ and not volume.

So she was chopping. And chopping. And fucking chopping. We had like 4 cartons of fucking spinach and it took dad coming home in the middle of us cooking to realize the mistake and tell mom she could STAHP already

She was eating spinach salad all week 😂

[raviollies]

personal redemption with not liking any of the art ive made for this story with a composition thats actually working out okay

[dead-girl-tells-stories]

Almost finished reading Dungeon Meshi and I got an idea

So in Dungeon Meshi or Delicious in Dungeon, there are these... dungeons.

And from what I have gathered dungeons can be made naturally or artificially but both types have the same few things in common.

They are made to contain demons

They attract adventures

The dungeons have lords who manage/control the dungeon and are given the power to do so by the demons

I know that I'm skimming over some important bits, but long story short, the demons come from an alternate dimension called 'The Infinite Realm' and feed off of people's desires, the Lord of the Dungeon's specifically.

That being said... (incoming dp x dc prompt)

Beings from the Infinite Realms aren't ghosts but demons. And while they do still have obsessions, they lack desires. And so, they've become something they hunger for.

Danny learns this the hard way when he accidentally eats his parents' desire to hunt 'ghosts'.

When the endless, all-consuming hunger, that had been growing inside himself became just a bit satisfied by the action, he got scared. He ran to Clockwork, who immediately explained everything to him.

From there he became terrified. He didn't want to eat people's desires, especially considering that he had some of his own. But CW explained that while other demons will most likely never be satisfied no matter how many desires they consume, because of Danny's halfa status he may be able to. (Also it would be a bad thing if the baby starves itself. No one wants the baby to starve!)

To test out this theory, CW pulls (more than) a couple of strings, and soon his dungeon was set up in Gotham City in the DC universe.

He felt a bit bad since he had to set up shop in another ghost's/demon's territory, but Lady Gotham seemed to have taken a liking to him.

Danny takes his time searching for the most desperate person he can find, (Lady Gotham is leading him to some of the most desperate people in her city, aka the Batfam.), and appears to one of them as a fawn (signifying his hunger and current 'lack' of power). He then looks deep into their mind and offers them the power to fulfill all their desires.

The Batfam? They should be better than this, but damn they were in a tight spot and the city is going to shit because the rouges have been more active than ever, and their family is on the verge of crumbling!... And the answer to fix it all was right there, just within their reach.

They held the fawn in their arms gently. Its ivory wings, coat of starlight, and piercing Lazurus green eyes. Gotham began to change.

A few years later, some members of the JL and the JLD are once again trying their hand at clearing the dungeon but are a bit discouraged because last time their team was wiped out completely.

It was inconvenient how their powers were nullified whenever they were inside the dungeon, but they had yet to find a spell to counteract it.

In an attempt to get past the third floor, they teamed with a team called Team Phantom, which comprised two young adult siblings, their 12-year-old sister, and a few teenagers.

Morally, they were against this. No one this young should be trying to clear the dungeon! But on the other hand, this team was the closest to getting to the fourth floor.

Sucking it up, they teamed up with the young dungeon dwellers and quickly found out why they were so close to getting to the third floor.

These kids were skilled. These kids were powerful. These kids were trained. On top of that, they didn't care about their lives! Because these kids? They wouldn't- no! They couldn't die, and they were using it to their advantage.

The JL/JLD now had much more to worry about than clearing the dungeon.

[ctrl-alt-em]

Wyrdwood team: We could always just knock Robin out. He’s not really useful :/

Me, opening a word doc: he’s now the only one of you that can cook a decent meal for the group 😤

[bunnykitty13]

GODDDDDDDDDD orange rescue cats are not for the faint of heart . i just caught fanta seconds away from choking on a silicone basting brush used in tonight’s dinner and he had the nerve to purr at me when I held him up to chastise him. vet visit tomorrow T_T

[notanartist143]

just thinking about Jeeves making Bertie meals and having the habit of eating all the imperfect bits (too crispy bacon, weird looking bread, etc.) before giving it away. And so one day Bertie walks into the kitchen and catches Jeeves humming to himself and plucking scraps into his mouth like a dog and Jeeves gets unnecessarily embarrassed about it but Bertie absolutely swoons.

[some-zer0]

So, this episode has: Jon Chester giving Celia an incident from the beginning of 2016 about creepy young adults stocking the Hilltop Center with various artifacts items not fit for sale while saying that it was, “All for a good cause,” until the Center was transformed from a previously empty dimension charity shop into one forever marked by violence, fear, and the esoteric. I bet that the private security company that dragged the incident giver out of the shop was Starkwall, too.

And then there’s Celia’s relieved?/nervous?/sad?/vindicated? chuckle at the end of the statement as she definitely recognizes Jon’s voice? Followed by Alice asking if she was alright/needed to step outside and Celia’s comment that she’s sure Chester’s VA wasn’t anyone important, said in a much darker tone than usual?

ALSO: SAM GETTING AN INTERNAL EMAIL FROM SOMEONE NAMED JON??? (If it’s our Jon and he isn’t an antagonist in Protocol, I think it’s hilarious that he went, “Okay, the extremely specific incidents about staying away from the Magnus Institute and not fucking around and finding out aren’t working, I’m just sending a goddamn email this time.”)

Colin specifically blocking his webcam was a neat detail, although I did find the [brutal sounds of extended phone murder] that immediately followed to be simultaneously very worrying and very funny. Colin isn’t allowed to start swinging at the computers so he’s taking out his rage on smaller devices.

I also thought it was interesting that Lena seemed so different while on the phone with whoever she was talking to. It feels like there might be a growing crisis that she’s trying to both help with and keep as quiet as possible. And now Gwen’s using the tried and true method of Bouchard Blackmail the new Externals Liaison (possibly the Response part of the OIAR)? I wonder if we’re going to start getting more follow-up soon, or an episode from Gwen’s phone while she’s in the field.

[bulldagger-bait]

When it comes to hygiene tasks and self care with disability and chronic illness, its pretty much a constant case of: don't let perfect be the enemy of the good.

Basically: it's better to do something, than to do nothing at all.

TLDR: Just because you can't do something "properly" doesn't mean you shouldn't do it at all. Do it half-way. Do it shitty. Do it barely. Do it on a technicality. But do what you can. Just try, because doing something will help you.

If you don't have the energy to scrub your body with a sponge, just rub soap over your skin with your hands.

If you don't have the energy to wash your whole body with soap, just hit the places where sweat accumulates, or where you're smelliest.

If you don't have the energy to wash with soap AT ALL, just sitting in water is better than nothing. It will wash away dirt and oils.

If you can't bathe or shower at all, a warm wash cloth is your new best friend. If that's too much, then try bath wipes. They're a bit bigger than regular wet wipes, and a bit more heavy duty. They're designed to help keep bed ridden patients clean in hospitals.

If you don't have the energy to dry yourself after a bath or a shower, just put on a bathrobe and get into bed. If you don't have the energy to get dressed afterwards, just don't. It can wait until you can.

If you don't have energy to brush your teeth for two minutes, honestly, just a cursory scrub is better than not doing anything.

If you can't brush your teeth twice a day, brush in the evenings. It will help take away the build up of food from the day.

If you don't have the energy to brush AT ALL, honestly, just take a cloth and wipe the plaque off your teeth. Rinse with mouth wash after if you'd like. Something is always better than nothing.

If you can't floss twice a day. Try once. If that's too much, try a few times a week. If that's too much, try setting aside a day once a week as a goal. If you can't keep a schedule, do it when you're able to. Hell, I keep some floss next to my bed so that if I forget and don't have the energy to go get it, I can just reach over.

If you can't iron your clothes, don't bother. Wrinkles are fine. Wear jumpers over wrinkly t-shirts. No one will know, and honestly, most people won't even care. If it's really wrinkly and it's A Big Deal And It Needs To Be Ironed, here's my life hack. Step 1: take a spray bottle, and spritz the item of clothing (while you're wearing it is easiest) until it's lightly damp. Step 2: use a hair-dryer on the clothes until they're dry. It gets rid of creases like nobody's business, it's easier than lugging out the iron and ironing board, and you get to have nice toasty warm clothes afterwards.

If you can't fold your clothes, try just hanging them up. It's less commitment. It's quicker to do. Granted, you need to have the space in order to do this, but it is also good at helping you downsize, and lets you visualise exactly what you have.

If you can't put your clothes away, invest in a couple of laundry baskets, and then just keep your clean clothes in the baskets. You can then separate washed clothes into underwear, pants, and shirts baskets. You can just leave them like that. I'm giving you permission to never fold your laundry again if you can't. Just leave it unfolded. Who's going to care? Something is better than nothing. If you can, try to put those baskets into your closet so that you can keep the clutter out of sight, and give yourself a more restful environment.

If you can't separate your clothing out into different categories and wash them "properly" (whites, warm tones, cool tones, darks, delicates / switching between hot & cold washes / paying attention to laundry instructions on the label) then just don't worry about it. If you cold wash your clothes, colours won't bleed. Maybe gradually over the course of dozens of washes there'll be some changes in hue, but it's really not as high stakes as the One Red Sock In The Whites Turns Them Pink trope makes it out to be.

I've pretty much come to the point in my life where if a piece of clothing can't survive the washer and dryer, then it's just not meant to be. I colour separate my clothes, and if I have the energy/remember I'll take my bras and jumpers out of the washing machine to drip dry. But otherwise, I leave it to the universe.

If you can't separate out your recycling, then don't. If you have a large amount of rubbish you need to get rid of but the idea of separating it out properly is stopping you from doing so, then just don't worry about it. I know it's not ideal, but if you have garbage in your room/house and you need to get rid of it, please just get rid of it. Don't let the problem get bigger and harder to deal with. Don't let "doing something properly" get in the way of keeping your living spaces clean. Please. Give yourself understanding.

If you can't wash your dishes, get paper plates. Obviously, it's not ideal, but it is better that you eat food than skipping meals. It is better that you have a clean kitchen, rather than having dishes piling up and making it harder to look after yourself.

If you can't prepare meals for yourself keep making the tasks easier and easier. If you can't do recipes, then simplify. Use pasta sauce from the jar instead of making it. Eat canned soup. Buy food you can just stick in the oven. If you eat fish fingers and microwave veggies every night, it's better than not eating anything at all. It's better than having to fork out money on take-out. If you need ready-made meals, then get them. If you're literally just eating a raw cauliflower for dinner; 1) I see you, 2) me too, sis, 3) something is better than nothing.

These are the basic things you need to do every day to function as a person. They are your activities of daily living. Brushing your teeth. Bathing or showering. Using the bathroom. Getting dressed. Eating. Drinking. Sleeping. Keeping your environment clean. You don't need to do these things perfectly, but they need to happen in order for you to have a decent quality of life.

And it breaks my heart, because I know that so many disabled people can't do these things every day. I'm not saying this to guilt or judge, I'm saying that these are basic needs; you deserve these things. These things bring dignity. If a disabled person is unable to do these things, it diminishes their quality of life. It robs them of dignity.

If you need help to do these things, Its okay to ask for help. It's okay to need help. But if you can't get that help and you have to do these things by yourself -- or you just plain want to be independent and do it without help-- then don't hold yourself to standards you can't meet.

Don't let perfect be the enemy of the good. Doing something is always better than doing nothing. Even if it's not perfect. Even if it's not done well. Do what you can.

[motherfuckingmaneater]

Was Bellatrix around every time Voldemort felt one of his horcruxes die? What was his reaction?

The ring. The pang of pain he feels through him makes his teeth grit. He does not feel pain anymore — he loathes human weakness. 

Bellatrix steadies her eyes on the back of his head, grey eyes calculating. She watches him carefully in the firelight. He has always been inexpressive but she’s learnt to read certain things from him. They’ve spent thirty years together after all. Even fourteen years apart they were never truly apart. 

“Well?” She asks, “does that suit you, my Lord?”

“No.” He says without missing a beat, “it does not.”

Bellatrix pulls herself up from her seat, long black hair tumbling down over her shoulder as she shifts, “then we need more wine.”

His back is turned to her. He looks at his reflection for a long few seconds and Lord Voldemort touches at his chest. He does not recognise what just happened. He moves from the window of his study and comes to the armchair opposite hers. 

“You are pregnant.” He comments as he watches her, “should pregnant witches be drinking wine?”

“Ah, now you care that I’m pregnant?” She quips.

“Don’t take that tone with me little girl.” He quips back equally as quickly, “I pulled you out of battle but make no mistake I can make your life even more miserable.” Bellatrix purses her lips and turns her gaze back to him, bottle in hand, “a drink just for you then?” He shakes his head once and Bellatrix knits her perfect brows, “what’s wrong?”

He says nothing. She moves closer and eventually stops before him. She kneels before him, palms on either of his knees as she makes herself comfortable there between his legs. Finally he turns his attention to her. He leans back in his chair. His time alone without her had been miserable — not the fourteen years she was kept from him, the two months he’d denied himself of her for Malfoy’s mistakes. If anyone can meet his scarlet gaze, it’s Bellatrix Black. Lestrange, he reminds himself as he touches her hair. Once soft waves are now coarse and have lost some of their shine. He likes her better this way. 

“I need somewhere private, Bella.”

Bellatrix tips her head a little, “my Lord?”

He feels her hair beneath his fingertips, turning scarlet eyes to her as he makes his decision, “and you’re coming with me.” 

The locket. It’s the middle of the night when he jolts awake. He gasps. It startles her out of her sleep. Not because she’s heard him but because the child in her jolted when her father jolted. He’s clutching at his chest. 

“Master?” She whispers. He turns to look at her and for a moment she flinches. His scarlet eyes are piercing in the darkness, there’s an animal fury to him, like a wounded beast feeling more than merely dangerous, his teeth bared half a moment. He throws the duvet off himself and Bellatrix sits up, watching him without word.

He says nothing. He hates showing weakness. He wants to kill her. He can feel his blood pumping his veins and his pulse throbbing in his head. He can also feel his blood pumping through the child inside of her, his child’s heartbeat in tandem with his own and off sync with her mother’s. A selfish thought runs through his mind; when it is born he’ll use its blood. He’ll secure himself his throne and he’ll use his child to do so. He didn’t want the damned thing anyway. He merely couldn’t say no to Bellatrix. It doesn’t matter, she’ll forgive him — she always does. Even if he favours her, she knows her place. 

He contemplates whilst he stands at the balcony. They have long since left Malfoy Manor for residences, finding somewhere far more secluded, far better protected, far more private. He’s keeping Bellatrix here for the time being. Her touch pulls him from his thoughts, a hand tentative on his shoulder. He doesn’t move. She leans into him, her cheek coming to the back of his other shoulder.

“I’ll make it better,” she says quietly, “who shall I kill?”

He smiles despite himself, taking her hand over his shoulder and kissing her knuckles. 

“Go to sleep Bella.” He says, turning around to take the back of her neck in his hand, feeling coarse ink black tresses in long pale fingers and a rough palm. He kisses her forehead and she turns grey eyes up to him. She nods in response, leaving him to his thoughts. 

Yes, she’ll always forgive him.

The cup. This time there’s worry on his face. Bellatrix is a few paces away, itching to dive into the fray, her blood lust piqued. She tips her head a little, worry furrowing her brows. 

“Go.” He says quietly.

She opens her mouth, worry still etched on her face, “Master.”

“Go, Bella.” He says, waving his hand, “hunt, kill, destroy.”

The diadem. She is still playing destroy when he feels this one. 

“My Lord?” Pius asks.

Lord Voldemort begins to walk away, his gaze unfocussed. He snaps his wand with precision to Pius and hisses, ‘Avada Kedavra’. Pius crumples. He hisses to Nagini to follow, the huge snake slithering after him. 

Harry Potter. No one moves but Bellatrix. She is the first to his side. Others seem to back away, terrified, unsure of what to do. She falls to her knees beside him, her palm comes to his chest, finding its place where it always has. His heart is still beating. 

“My Lord.” She whispers desperately, “My Lord.”

He meets her gaze when he wakes. He sees her then as he has always seen her; he sees her as a young witch when she first came to him at fifteen and became his student. He sees her the first time he kissed her when she was but eighteen. He sees her in his bed asleep, her long shining waves strewn over his pillows as she slept contently. He sees her in her wedding dress when he made her marry another wizard instead of taking her himself. He sees her in battle as a young witch and his only student, laughing as she bursts forth with curses and hexes galore, slaughtering his enemies and leaving a path of destruction in her wake. He sees her when she’s twenty-three, tears down her pretty face as she tells him she was pregnant but the child is lost — that his child is lost. He sees at balls where he took her and only her to the floor and he can still feel the way her fingers tighten over his shoulder and into his palm, he watches as her dark grey eyes stay steady on him and almost too full lips turn up at the edge as she too hears the whispers calling their tryst to the ballroom floor a scandalous one. He sees her at meetings invited to sit at his right as he makes clear that is now her seat and only hers. He sees her at night on the balcony as she whispers to the stars when Orion dies, her long thick hair tied to a loose braid and thrown lazily over her shoulder, her fingers inked with blood runes as she recites ancient magic and refuses to sleep. He sees her eyes turn over the golden goblet he gives her to keep in her vault and the hint of knowing he can’t help but be proud of which shines in her eyes. He sees her fight again and again and again and again andagain, each time with more passion and more vehemence, his most skilful soldier, his most dangerous weapon. He sees her in his bed night after night, he feels the scratch of her nails in his back and the warmth of her skin against hers, the scent of her skin fills his mind and he allows it to consume him. He sees the confusion on her face as he tells her the prophecy and he watches as confusion turns to blistering anger and then to resolve as she tells him no one will ever stand in his way. He sees her the night he leaves for Godric’s Hollow and tears are down her face begging him not to go, he feels her cling all the more tighter to his robes as he kisses her, not knowing that would be the last time he’ll feel her lips in fourteen years. He remembers longing for her between, seeing her in the space between this life and limbo, hoping against hope she will come because she has never failed him. He sees her years later and she is more beautiful than she ever was, her long hair now a little coarse and her throat branded in magical ink reminding him that she had payed the ultimate price for him. He sees on the same balcony these years later, her fingers still cast in blood spun runes but this time her call to the stars is for their child. He sees her the night she holds their daughter in her arms, her forehead strewn with sweat and long tresses down her back as she gazes with a love which had thus far only been reserved for him onto the swaddled little baby. He sees her now, looking at him in a way she always has, as though she understands him because she does. She always has.

Dying may not be so bad, he wagers, not if he has her in the next life too. 

The snake. She feels it in the ether. She’s gone before him — just a few moments before. Bellatrix wakes in a forest she recognises. It’s half between the forbidden forest and the forests of her home. The stars are bright above her, closer than she’s ever been to them. She knows if she follows the path she’ll go home — where she belongs, amongst the Blacks. 

She stops some way up the path, just deviated from the sides she finds the part of his soul she protected. She knows him. He’s monstrous but she still loves him. She steps off the path and comes closer. She leans a little, offering her hand. He takes it. 

He turns his gaze to her and she smiles. Together, they leave the last world and traverse into the new.

[feroluce]

Sort of the same idea as this, but Sigewinne standing around playing with the inmates of The Fortress of Meropide, when Wriothesley happens to walk by and hears them competing for rarest haul that they ever stole and got away with. Wriothesley immediately declares Sigewinne the winner.

And they all turn to look at her, because. Sigewinne is literally like the only one down here without a criminal record? Even she looks confused???

Wriothesley, with a completely straight face: Because she stole my heart.

Sigewinne is, in spirit, doubled over on the floor, clutching her chest and coughing blood as tiny cherubs shoot her full of arrows. The inmates are so so happy for them, they really truly are, but also Your Grace, please, some of us just ate BSMZJZJJZNSMDK

[futureghost97]

.

[meringuejellyfish]

i like to enjoy sleepiness as a silly whimsical thing (as in, characters ive had that are dream themed, characters with their funny nightcaps, ones that are just generally tired and low energy. how cute. how silly) as if "being tired" isnt something that Makes my life very very hard. i want to do so much. the very daily essentials at least ! do these really have to be my limits ..... ahh!

[dayurno]

hiii tumblr user dayurno <3what do you think would be kandreil social media usage post-canon? i love thinking about 35 year old neil posting throwback pictures of him, andrew and kevin at age 19...

i also have this idea of neil posting a headline about him being the fastest striker in the pro league (whatever idk sports terms LOL) with a caption like 'this goes out to kevin day, who one time told me i wouldn't always be able to rely on being the fastest player on the court. my entire career has been a way of proving you wrong' (said very lovingly of course <3) and kevin just very earnestly replies. i love you neil, you have been a pleasure to teach

or like it has been a pleasure to teach you everything you know. eheheh

idk very out of character for them but i think about it a lottt. what do you think :)

OH THIS IS CUTE OK. i think kevin's social media usage is and will always be strictly professional, to me he'd be chronically offline and only actually keep up with social media if it was about exy. he really really really doesn't get the whole gist......... kevin is those people that say "social media? id rather go hiking haha" but like unironically and genuinely

on another hand i think neil would like it! he knows enough about social media (almost nothing) that he thinks its all about posting pictures he doesnt want to lose, so hed like it......... :3 neil has the scrapbooker's temperament after all so i think hed appreciate having a place to store all these memories knowing theyd never disappear. i do think his account would be locked though

andrew doesn't do social media in the traditional sense but i really believe that he'd be easily caught in the tiktok/instagram reels/whatever dopamine loop LMFAO andrew likes being distracted and not thinking so he'd enjoy his 5hrs a day tiktok scrolling while smoking time. kevin disapproves of this on a level yet unknown

re: kevin telling neil he was a pleasure to mentor ............ :') I REALLY BELIEVE HE THINKS THAT...!!! kevin strikes me as the kind of person who would drop unbelievably earnest comments online and not notice the magnitude of what hes saying. just like he does it in real life

[elvenking42]

Getting overstimulated at a restaurant like I need to explode everything here with my mind RIGHT NOW

[teethpaste]

Stoned as hell with one of my gals watching LOTR 2 (for the first time!!!!)

Salad is out of this world - avocado, Persian cucumber, feta, hot honey summer sausage, cracked black pepper chickpeas, Fuji apples, over arugula! Plus little from scratch dressing with olive oil, red wine vinegar, lemon, honey, Dijon, salt and pepper etc

[anteroom-of-death]

Is there anything more heavenly than warm bread and jam with cheeses and butter?