#crip up the kitchen

[flimsy-roost]

really short recipe review

Electric Pressure Cooker Chicken Stew

Crip Up The Kitchen, Jules Sherred

really good

[marbleboa]

Hey all! In light of the State of things I've decided to hold a raffle to help out fundraising efforts! If you'd like a chance to win some cool art while lending aid to those in need, read on.

Raffle Prizes

1st place: Anything goes! Full body drawing with a detailed background, or something simpler– you name it. Just up to two characters please.

2nd place: Painted waist-up view, up to two characters, simple background

3rd place: Painted portrait, single character + simple background

I’ll be drawing names for 5 winners in total: one for 1st place, two for 2nd place, and two for third. If you'd like to see more samples of my work you can find them here.

How to enter:

Donate $5 USD(or rough equivalent) to a legit fundraiser/charity org for Palestine. You can enter as many times as you like.($10 counts as two entries, $15 for three, etc). You don't have to be following me to enter!

Take a screenshot/picture of your donation/receipt. Make sure this includes the amount paid, the fundraiser name(s) and the date(s), or your request will be invalid.

Fill out this google form with your preferred method of contact and proof of donation.

If you feel overwhelmed deciding where to donate, gazafunds is a great resource for spotlighting a specific campaign in need! Here are some causes I’d personally like to highlight too:

The Shehab Family: A family of 8, also raising funds for the sake of their extended family of 5 who are unable to make a gofundme. (vetted here) Crips for eSims for Gaza- Providing eSims has been vital to helping Gazans stay connected to the world, and this is a crowdfund via the Disability Visibility Project doing exactly that. If you’re uncertain about the process of activating and sending an eSim yourself, this is a great alternative! Gaza Soup Kitchen- An incredible family-run initiative on the ground in northern Gaza, they feed hundreds of people in need on the daily and are hoping to help even more. Funds will help with purchasing much-needed ingredients, as well as expanding their aid to other areas.

Raffle will end on December 4th, 4 pm EST. Thank you so much for reading! If you can't donate, please boost if you can!

[rhadamanthes]

Made with love. Toji x reader

word count : 2,8k

warnings : kitchen sex, fluff, praise, bakery AU, food play, breeding kink, soft toji, forced proximity, single dad toji, slowburnish.

"Thanks for that, I owe you :)" You sigh, reading Shiu's message. You accepted one of his friends to work with you for a time. Toji, your new coworker starts today, you couldn't be more nervous. For the past 4 years, you've been working alone. You own a small pastry shop downtown, key word being small you don't even know how two people are going to fit in. You fidget nervously waiting for someone to show up. Shiu didn't even take the time to send a picture of the said friend. So you're just looking like a creep observing every passerby trough the window of the bakery waiting for someone to stop.

And when they do you can't help but gasp. A black haired man, built like a brick, is looking at the facade. That must be the guy. You open the door and pass your head through the crack.

"Toji?" you call hesitantly.

His head drops to meet your gaze and he nods. You're taken aback by the beautiful shade of his eyes, a deep captivating green. You feel the heat cripping to your cheeks but invite him inside.

"Did you find it easily ?" you start to break the ice.

"Yeah it's the only pastel colored shop in the business district" he laughs

You clear your throat in embarrassment, what's wrong with pastel color ?

"Anyways, so I suppose Shiu told you that I'm specialized in dessert and stuff, do you have any experience with that ?" you ask nervously.

"Not really in sweets, I used to cook for the army."

"Oh nice so you have some basis, I'll give you a quick tour."

The shop is small and only has a few seating tables so it goes pretty fast, pushing the swing door you're now behind the counter, and your fear comes to life. With the way he's built this feels like you're stepping on each other's feet. You open the door to the kitchen in a hurry needing to have some personal space again, it's the biggest room in the shop, and you walk him through it.

"So that's it, if you have any questions before we start don't hesitate and- oh! I almost forgot here is your apron, it's a spare of mine so I think it's going to be small but I'll go shop for others tomorrow." You say handing him the white colored clothes,

Now That you think about it, it also has lace details on the hem, you purse your lips the idea of this mountain of a man wearing a way too small apron with girly little details on it. Toji nods his head accepting the piece of cloth.

"So are you going to watch me change ?" he asks teasingly.

"N-no! Not at all the door here it's the break room, you can change there"You stutter over your word.

You put your own apron on, taking the ingredients that you need out of the fridge.

⠀༺ ✤ ༻

The morning rolls around fast and you're satisfied with Toji's way of working, he learns fast and is independent. The first customers start to walk in and you decide to put Toji at the desk to see how he interacts with them. And it's kind of catastrophic, not a smile in sight, no greetings or basic customer service sentences. You put your hand over your mouth looking at him. You go behind the counter, tapping his shoulder lightly.

"Toji, you know it would hurt anybody if you smiled a bit" you whisper not to expose him in front of the client sitting at the tables. "Look how I do with the next ones, yeah ?" He nods without saying a word.

Waiting patiently for the next customer, you rearrange the displayed goods, telling Toji how you like them to be presented. The bells at the doors ring and you put on your customer service smile, fading quickly when you realise who it is.

"Get out" you hiss.

"That's how you greet your friends now ? I just came by to see how the partnership is going" Shiu answers in his usual mischievous tone.

"It's great, now turn around and go away"

"Hmm i'll have the fondant aux poires please" you roll your eyes at his request serving him anyway.

"You're lucky i don't have tomatoes in here i'd ruin your suit"

"One day you'll thank me~" he says in a singsong voice handing you the cash "So toji how do you like it so far?"

"It's nice," he answers flatly.

You can't help but wonder if he really keeps this monotonous tone, and stone cold expression even with his friends. You turn around to meet his eyes and he's already looking at you, neutral expression, just grazing the scar on his lips with his fingers.

"Well I'll leave you to it then" Shiu says bidding you both farewell.

"So can I threaten the next customer?" Toji says leaning back on the counter.

" "Hello", and "have a nice day" will do, Forget about the smile" you say, hitting his arm lightly, going back to the kitchen.

At the end of the day you show Toji how to leave the kitchen ready for tomorrow, and everything clean. Outside of the shop you're both standing in front of each other awkwardly.

"Well i hope you enjoyed today" you laugh nervously "I guess I'll see you tomorrow?"

"Yes, 8 am again ?"

You nod your head.

"See you then" he says, turning around going his ways.

Looking at him disappear, you think that this might not be as terrible as you thought, nobody ever denies a little help. This will do you think, this will do.

༺ ✤ ༻

You quickly get used to Toji, it's not like he's talkative, or particularly joyous but his presence makes you feel less lonely. He's less trouble then he seems, during the lunchbreak the two of you usually sit next to each other in the break area, when you were alone you would always put on some TV reality show to unwind. Now that Toji is here you still do, but he made fun of you for the first few days. Now he silently watches it with you, making comments from time to time.

Work wise you couldn't be more satisfied he quickly followed your rhythm and rarely complains. The only thing is that in such a small space you stopped counting the number of times you bumped into each other especially when behind the counter, he would always make snarky comments about how it's not an accident and you just want to feel his muscles. You always shut him off but he likes to see you so flustered.

One day Toji came to you looking thoughtful. You immediately pick up on it asking him what's wrong.

"Would...it be a problem if my son came to eat with us today ?" he asks, scratching his neck.

You're a bit dumbfounded, he has a son ? Of course Shiu didn't mention it.

"Hum yeah sure no problem" you says realising how few you really know about him

"Thanks, i should have warned you sooner but he only decided it a few minutes ago" he says avoiding your gaze

"It's fine, really, let's get back to work" you shut him off.

For the rest of the morning you can only think about Toji and his son, how old he's he ? Is it the reason why Shiu insisted for you to engage him ? Before you can think anymore about it the door opens, ringing the bell. You can see a small form rushing through the door and an adult following close behind, telling the kid to slow down.

"Megumi!" Toji beams as he takes the kid in his arms "Giving Tsumiki a hard time?" he laughs ruffling the hair of his son. The kid doesn't answer, hugging his father.

Tsumiki, the woman you suppose was following behind, is out of breath.

"Sorry about the cub, did he make you run around town again ?" Toji asks.

"No that's fine" she whispers, slowly breathing back to normal. "Enjoy your meal and I'll pick him up after hmm?"

Toji nods and she makes her way to the exit giving you a warm smile and a wave of her hand. You mimic her still not realising what happened.

"This is my son Megumi" Toji states awkwardly "Megumi says Hello" he whispers in his hair.

The kid turns around waving, not saying a word, well if it wasn't for the fact he's his dad spitting image, the attitude gives it away. You chuckle at the scene before you, leading them to the break room.

Dinner with the father and son duo was fun, they act exactly like each other, but Megumi is a bit more talkative you would say, he went on and on about the dogs he has back home and his friend Yuuji. This is the most information you have on the Fushiguro's. For dessert you offered Megumi a pastry and he happily devoured it. Tsumiki went to pick up the kid and the two of you resumed your shift. Since Toji brought a part of his private life here you allowed yourself to ask him a few questions, you learned that his wife passed away giving birth to their only son, and that Tsumiki is like a big sister to Megumi.

༺ ✤ ༻

Toji is not used to praise, or simply people talking to him without a second thought. To him, your sweetness hides something, so when you're both preparing the sweets of the day and you tell him how good he's doing, he snaps.

"Stop doing this" he tones. His harsh tone takes you aback, you furrow your brows.

"What are you talking about?" you ask genuinely intrigued

"Your stupid words of encouragement i'm not a toddler i don't need this, or your pity"

"This shop is all i have i don't care about your personal feelings, i care about your performance if you were doing bad i'll tell you too, you know what next time i'll tell you to fuck off when youre done with one of your task" you scoff losing patience.

Turning your back to him, you keep on decorating the cupcakes. The rest of the day was silent. Toji felt stupid for even mentioning that. He won't say it out loud but the silent treatment you're giving makes him miss your voice. He'll accept anything now, even the oversweet words.

༺ ✤ ༻

Today is the end of the week, on friday customers are rare in the afternoon. This is usually the day you take your time to try new recipes. Sitting on the counter you're eating a blueberry crumble with cream on the top.

"Solitary pleasure ?" Toji's voice interrupts you.

The both of you quickly made up after the little fight and everything is back to normal, even his little teasing. Heat creeps to your cheeks at his comment and you clear your throat.

"No just trying some new stuff" you stammers

"And can I have a bite?" he smiles.

You nod, extending your hand. A normal person would have picked up the sweet from your hand but not Toji, supporting your hand with his, he dips his head low, eating straight from your skin. The feeling of his lips and tongue on your skin makes you shiver. What is wrong with him ? He looks at you through his lashes and you instinctively close your thighs. He straightens his back, licking his lips.

"Don't close your thighs on me darling" he purrs with a smirk growing on his lips.

You hit him with your feet, getting off the counter to wash your hands in the nearby sink. The water runs against your skin and you try to forget what he feels like against you. But he seems to have other plans. Caging you against the counter, Toji takes your hands in his, spreading the soap on your limbs. His chest feels like a wall behind you, he's hot and strong, you relax in his touch and wonder how his tongue would feel on every part of your body. He keeps on massaging your hands as he rubs against your ass.

"Toji stop" you blurt in a meek voice, you're not even convincing yourself.

"You sure you want me to stop? you have goosebumps all over" he whispers in your neck. "And I can tell you want me, everytime i pass behind you you clutch your little thighs or your cute little apron," he adds, kissing your neck.

You moan out loud at the feeling. He stops the water, drying both your hands on the closest piece of clothes. Toji turns you around, locking your lips in a heated kiss. You completely let yourself go at his contact, locking your arm behind his neck as you start to grind on him too. He places a knee between your legs and your clit catches at every fiber of his jeans making you squirm. You can already feel yourself getting wet, as well as he's getting hard under your ministrations.

Lifting your hips, Toji places you on the counter. You shiver against the cold marble. Breaking the kiss you get rid of your apron and his. He rips open your blouse, attacking your nipples with his warm mouth. Your back arch off the counter in pleasure, as his tongue twirls against your sensitive bud. With his free hand toji reaches for the bowl of cream you used for your cake he places the cold mixture on your other tits lapping hungrily at it.

"Fuck Toji" you cry at the hot and cold sensation.

You're getting wetter by the second and want to feel him inside of your pussy right now. You let your hand travel to your pants working the zipper down. Toji lifts your lower body off the counter so you can properly take it off. He does the same for himself and you pat him through his boxer. Fuck he's big, you bite your lips.

"Scared ?" he asked with a grin.

You bite hard on his neck as an answer, he chuckles. You stroke his cock a few times and spread your legs when you feel he's hard enough. The tip of his cock runs against your folds and you clench his shoulders. Slowly entering you, you let your head fall backward at the stretch feeling.

"God that tight little pussy" he rasps in your ear

"You like that? you taunt petting his hair

Letting your back hit the counter once more, he hides his face in the crook of your neck as he begins a slow pace in your cunt. His big cock pushes your gummy walls all the way. It's been a long time since you've been fuck like that. The faster he gets the louder you moan.

"Shit Toji, just like that, good boy"

His hips stutter at your words and he groans.

"Say it again" he growls.

"You're a good boy," you say, kissing his jaw.

"More"

"My good boy" you purr right next to his ear.

A defeated sound escapes his mouth and picks up the pace ramming into your pussy full force. Each thrusts lock you harder against the counter while you dig your nails into his muscular back. Turning you around Toji places you in a doggy style position. Your hair is firmly locked in one of his hands while he pounds into you. He's close you can't tell. you're not far away either. He keeps rutting into you, the knot in your belly is getting closer to snap with each thrust.

"Make me cum Toji please be good to me" you moan on the verge of your orgasm .

A few more thrust and you cum undone, face pressed against the cold counter. Your muscles squeezing around his length make him shoot all of his cum deep inside of you. YOu're both moaning, and breathing heavily. His head rests against your sweaty back, you can feel his dick twitching inside of you.

Catching normal breaths you straighten your back.Toji is locking you against his torso in the process, his beefy arms resting on your belly. You're glad he does because your legs feel like jelly right now. Catching a few of the whipped cream with your finger you raise it to his mouth he licks it looking at you in the eyes.

"What a good little boy, you want more ?" you taunt

He squeezes his arms tighter around you and you apologize, laughing a bit. Guess you really have to thank Shiu for that.

[llycaons]

🇵🇸 Vetted fundraisers for Palestine 🇵🇸 (17/20)

Hi everyone, here are some more campaigns of the people who have reached out to me recently!

Nour and her five children: @/nourfamily1989 // Nour hasn't reached out to me, but tumblr terminated her account and I'd like to highlight her campaign - please read about her situation here and here // vetted by 90-ghost // donate // $38,195/$90,000 (as mentioned above, costs of winter clothes, food, and medicine for her children take up a lot of what Nour has already raised)

Aya Yasser: @fatima-ahmed88 // vetted by association // donate // £617/£10,000

Jamil Totah, his wife Tahani, and their three girls: @tahani-family // #226 on GavaVetters list // donate // €870/€60,000

Alaa Siam and her two children: @alaasyam // vetted by association // donate // $726 CAD/$30,000

Rabah and Manal's large family (six children and a elder): @tayemanqar // #96 on GazaVetters list // donate // $830 CAD/$60,000 (no donations in a week!)

Maha Abed's family: @maha3333 // #225 on GazaVetters list // donate // €1,905/€50,000

Ahmed Al-Mashaal's family: @najouha-1, @najouha1, and @najah-tamim2023 // vetted by gaza-evacuation-funds and #113 on GazaVetters list // donate // €3,998/€20,000

Hala and her four children: @halamushtaha // vetted by gaza-evacuation-funds here (#1) // donate // $2,580/$35,00

Hanan Ali Al-Salout and her family: @hanan-family, @hanan-family1, @hanan-fomily3 and @hanan-family6 // #152 on GazaVetters list // donate // $5,026/$20,000

Mohammed Salem, his parents, and five siblings: @save-salem-family, @save-salem-family2 and @s-sa-mo // verified by 90-ghost // donate // €8.047/€10,000

All of these campaigns are legitimate and all these people do need support for food, medical care, clothing, and shelter when winter comes. Every little bit really does help :)

If you’re interested in supporting communal efforts to provide food and supplies for even more people, check out Operation Olive Branch, The Sameer Project, Gaza Soup Kitchen, Care for Gaza, Crips for eSims, Mona’s distribution initiative (Instagram), Palestinian Communist Party, and Life For Gaza (water municipality project).

Thanks, everyone! 🇵🇸

[hualianisms]

🍉Fics for Gaza

Inspired by the fan Gotchas for Gaza and @ficsforgaza, i (ao3 user namelessflower) will be joining @ficsforgaza's initiative where fic writers write fics in exchange for proofs of donation to valid Palestinian fundraisers.

I will be offering: Fics, poems about a character/pairing, or simple pfp icons/avatars of a character/pairing.

Fandoms available: any MXTX, JWQS, ORV, JJK, Genshin, RGU and more (see full list here).

HOW IT WORKS:

1. DONATE to any verified Palestinian fundraiser from this list: GazaFunds, Gaza Municipality's water campaign, eSIMS for Gaza (or Crips for Esims for Gaza).

I will also accept donations to Sudan (Khartoum Aid Kitchen), separate from @ficsforgaza's initiative.

2. DM me PROOF OF YOUR DONATION - a screenshot of your donation receipt or confirmation email (*please edit out your personal details e.g. full name, bank/credit card details!)

3. DM me YOUR PROMPT, specifying fic/poem/pfp, and any specific likes or dislikes/triggers/things you want me to avoid.

Limited to 3 slots for fics + 3 slots for poems + 5 pfp slots at a time.

(After I finish the first round of prompts, I'll open more slots later on when I have more time. I'll do my best to finish your prompt within a few weeks, but please be patient with me if I need more time and understand that longer fics may take 1-2 months as I am busy irl + writing for multiple Gotchas for Gaza at the same time🙇)

RULES:

I will do: sfw, nsfw*, canonverse, modern AU, canon divergent, other AUs, genderbend, character study, angst, fluff, humour/comedy, emotional hurt/comfort, hurt/comfort, heavy angst

I will not do: dead dove, underage, incest, r*pe/noncon/dubcon, omegaverse, mpreg, or certain kinks that im not comfortable personally writing

(*note: Only adults (18 and above) can request nsfw. Minors cannot request nsfw. Please have your age somewhere in your bio/carrd or I will reject your nsfw request!)

FIC INFO:

for SFW: every $1 = at least 150 words, capped at ~3000 words (for me to avoid burnout)

for NSFW: every $1 = at least 100 words, capped at ~2500 words (for me to avoid burnout)

you may donate enough more for multiple prompts, but please specify how much is for which prompt (e.g. you can donate $15 for a 1000 word nsfw fic ($10) + a 750 word sfw fic ($5)

samples of my fics on my ao3

POEM INFO:

$5 = 1 poem (up to ~5 stanzas)

can be about a character/ship/platonic dynamic. see this page for the list of characters/pairings available

link to poem samples in this page

PFP/ICON/AVATAR INFO:

$1 = 1 pfp

any character from any fandom accepted so long as you are able to provide the picture/screencap you want made into an icon. pfps will be just the character + a pride flag background, plain color background, or gradient color background (specify what color/pride flag you want)

samples here

more info in my carrd here! please read everything carefully before requesting, thank you so much!

[debeste-imposter]

Trump won.

this election was not fair or right. it was full of oppression at every turn. this has been building for years. voter suppression, growing poverty within minority communities, straight up blatant misinformation and corruption. this was no fair victory.

so what do I do now?

We stand as pillars of our community.

here’s some ways you can help, big and small.

I will be adding more links to this. And feel free to reblog with your own links.

we will not be silenced.

your voice will be heard.

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Unexpected 26

Sequel to Unsolicited

Warnings: non/dubcon, pregnancy, car sex, Lloyd being the worst, and other dark elements. My username actually says you never asked for any of this.

My warnings are not exhaustive but be aware this is a dark fic and may include potentially triggering topics. Please use your common sense when consuming content. I am not responsible for your decisions.

As usual, I would appreciate any and all feedback. I’m happy to once more go on this adventure with all of you! Thank you in advance for your comments and for reblogging.

Lloyd rarely surprises you anymore but that night, you admit, you are. He leaves you be. You just can't decide if it's because he actually listened or for some other Lloyd reason.

You hear Dottie and Harlan come home and try not to hear what comes after. You sleep as well as you can through the persistent ache in your hip bones. You hug the pillow between your legs, finding your comfort with a blanket under your belly. Adjusting to your body is the hardest part, you were never very comfortable in it to begin with.

You get up before nine. You never really slept in. Well, before you were working night shifts and going to sleep at this time. Those years really did a number on you.

You dress and hobble downstairs, yawning as the scent of cinnamon leads you into the kitchen. Dottie is there at the stove, chiming at your entry with "good morning" to rival any songbird.

"Hi," you go to the fridge, mourning your ritual of a hot coffee and opting instead for some mango orange juice. "How was your night?"

"Ah, ya know, Harlan's all tired out," she giggles, "but I should ask ya, dear, about yours."

"Mm, it was a night," you shrug as you pour yourself a glass, "what are you making? It smells so good."

"My famous cinnamon donuts," she announces proudly, "little Marion was the biggest fan, back when he wasn't so stingy on sugar."

"Ah," you take a sip of the tangy juice.

"I can't think the night was mighty successful," she mulls, "not with him leavin' so fast this mornin'."

You put the carton back and grab your glass. You lean against the count and take a large gulp.

"He left," you don't quite make it a question.

"Didn't he say goodbye?"

You keep your face vacant, "probably for the best."

"Work, he said," she offers, "off to make some money for the little one."

"Mm," you chew your lip and think. You peek over at her, "I… hope you don't think-- I worked, you know. More than twenty years and I busted my ass. I didn't… want to quit and not do anything."

"Ah don't you worry, sweetheart, I ain't judgin'. He just wants to take care of ya and the kiddo. I don't think nothin' bout it." She shakes her head and chuckles, "ask Marion, he'll tell ya I never worked a day in my life, not outside chasin' after him but let me tell ya a secret," she turns the dough in the oil, "I would get my money at night. Where we live, you make a killin' with that phone sex stuff. All them horny old men."

"Dot," you gasp.

"Oh, Harlan knew, he thought it was so funny, ya know? I'd tell him when one of the fellas he worked with would call," she cackles, "got a good laugh."

"Money is money," you say.

"Damn right, talkin' up them old pervs got my boy into Harvard," she smirks, "that's the thing about men. That one part of em is always the easiest to talk to."

"Uh huh," you step away and rest your hand on your stomach, "god, I can't stop peeing." You put your cup down hastily as your bladder squeezes.

"Ah, I don't miss that," she calls after you, "baby boy used to line dance on my bladder."

You close yourself into the bathroom and struggle to get your leggings down. You sit and sigh, letting the pressure drain and the news sink in. Maybe he took a few words to heart or maybe you're giving him too much credit. Either way, he's gone and you can breathe.

💎

"It's all comin' together," Dottie says as Harlan pushes the crip against the wall, wiping sweat from his forehead with the back of his head.

"Yes, looks good," you agree, "I like the bunnies. Good choice."

"Oh, I almost forgot," Dottie trills and goes over to the white box on the change table, "Harlan picked this one out. Hun, don't forget to hang it."

She opens the flaps and Harlan nears her. She lifts out the large orb, a fascimile moon, and turns to him. They're cute together, you won't ever have that.

He takes it and hangs it from the hook over the crib. He smiles up at it, "I always liked to watch the moon, ya know?"

"Lights up and everything," Dottie explains, "all different colours for the baby."

You stare at it. This baby if anything will be spoiled. You'll have to be the bad guy. The one who moderates. The one who says no when everyone else says yes.

Like everyone else you've ever known, this child will hate you.

You feel your chest caving in at the thought. You can never be what this baby needs. You've never been enough for anyone. A girl, too.

What a curse. To be a girl in this world. With a father like him and a mother like you.

"I… it's beautiful," you're not lying and the crack in your voice startles even you. But it's not the sentimentality that it seems, it's absolute and consuming terror. "I'm sorry, I need to lay down."

"You feel alright?" Harlan asks with concern.

"Yeah, yeah, I'm just… tired."

"Well, you take it easy, darling," he girds.

"You let us know if ya need anything, honeybun," Dottie says.

"Of course, uh," you swallow tightly, "thank you. Both."

"It's nothin'," Dottie insists.

"No, really, thank you for being so… kind."

"Well, honey, you're our daughter as much as Marion's our boy," she smiles, "don't you forget that now."

You leave them and go back to the bedroom. You climb into bed and cocoon yourself in the blankets. You hate it. You hate how hot, how sharp every emotion is.

All this baby stuff makes you wonder and worry. You don't imagine your parents were ever that excited for you. They never beamed over your crip or delighted in choose cute stuffies or the perfect pacifier.

You are unwanted. Unexpected and unloved.

You didn't of that shit. Not for years. So why now?

You can be better than that. You have to be. You can't live with the idea you might pass on all this insecurity.

You sniffle and dab your eyes before they can prick. You blow out between your lips and lay flat. Big mistake.

You grunt as you sit up. As much as you'd love to sleep it into oblivion, you're restless. You hate the fact that Lloyd's unannounced absence has you on edge. He'll be back and not knowing when is worse than having him around.

There's a gentle tapping on the door. You try to shake off your nerves and you clear your throat.

"Yes?"

"Uh, don't mean to bother none, but… we didn't get to that finale… that lil snake eyed boy got me curious," Harlan says from the other side.

You can't help but smile. You never would've guessed his interest in trashy reality TV.

"Come in," you reach for your phone.

He opens the door slowly, inching inside, "you sure, kid?"

"Kid? No one's called me that in ages," you chuckle, "yeah, I'm ready to see it all go up in flames."

He has a tablet in hand and comes around the other side of the bed, "may I?"

"Sit, sit," you pat the mattress.

He's got the episode queued up and you help prop it between you with a pillow. He sits back with arms crossed and you hit play, the recap rolling at once.

You're quiet as the narrator goes through the most dramatic scenes of the season. You glance at Harlan from the corner of your eye. You never had this, never had a dad who wanted to do anything with you. Nothing aside from holding a wrench as he ignored you.

"Why are you so nice?" You ask at last.

He shifts and looks at you, "why don't you think you deserve that?"

You scoff and shake your head, "you don't know me."

"I know you're too good for my son, and I'm gonna let him know that. Again. Maybe this time, he'll hear me," he reaches over, gently taking your hand, "I'm still young enough to kick his ass."

You grin and feel the tension seep from you. You relax and lean against his shoulder, turning to watch the screen. He squeezes your hand as he rests his head against yours.

It’s peace. For now.

[helloescapist]

For the Year to Come | Tamaki Amajiki

Word Count: 1492?

Setting: tamaki amajiki x gn!reader, pining

Content Warning(s): SFW, fluff

Summary: with U.A. a buzz with tsukimi so close, you find yourself with a helper in the kitchen as you prepare for the festival.

A/N: I adore this time of year, and the moonfestivals throughout the countries. Expect to see a few themed, fluff shorts this week inspired by the moon.

[image is not mine!]

Steam rolled off of pots, waves of decadent scents filled the small dorm kitchen. Kabocha rested under the air, nestled against the side of the kitchen. Warmed by the stove, the resting of dough, and produce awaiting care. The fold of noodles having dusted amongst your fingers, rested on hangers.

Set to rest for a moment, the fold of vegetables, under the sharp blade of a knife. Crisp and fresh, worthy of any producer. The smile of a hum tucked upon your lips as your fingertips tucked under your knuckles. Carefully pinning nappa cabbage against the cutting board. Your dominant hand wielding the butcher’s blade as you delicately threaded the sharp edge against the cabbage. Crips and tangy, the touch of salt against its diced leaves. Vivid green, lovely under the kitchen lights. Ingredients compiled, and procured from all the shopping districts in the area. Proof of the dedication the U.A. students and faculty had placed into securing their supplies. Despite the threat the League of Villains had posed, obviously significant enough to have drawn the entirety of the student body into onsite dormitories, the students and staff had resolved themselves to live life normally. In a way, it was verification of how resilient your class was, and the upcoming generation of heroes. Their resilience gifting you an inner strength to endure time spent away from home, encouraged you in the difficult times, and because of this, you had offered yourself up. Volunteered to do a majority of the cooking for the upcoming tsukimi festivities. Reassured it would be no trouble, you were more than familiar with the basics of cooking from your family having instilled long time traditions at home, and over the years, and while there were a few other students who stopped by, and offered their assistance as time went on, the majority had taken pride in preparing for other activities. Games across the school grounds, decorating, and preparing offerings except for one student, who had been known to peek in periodically. Shyly standing as though a phantom at the door, peeking around the trim of the kitchen entrance before scurrying off, just to inevitably return to peek into the humble kitchen.

                The first time Amajiki had wandered to this area of the dormitories, you ahd wondered if he was perhaps hungry, or in need of snacks. It wouldn’t have been entirely unreasonable, his quirk after all required quite the hefty stock, and for all the time you had been in the kitchen, the upper classman had not nibbled on anything. Regardless of how you insisted. Your offer having drawn the red to his cheeks, the tremble of his small elven ears, as his eyes surveyed the kitchen before releasing a squeak of a vowel you could not comprehend, slurred as he turned on his heel, and dove for the safety of his own private dorm. The interaction having drawn your curiosity, as to why he had wandered in the area in the first place. If perhaps, senpai was embarrassed to be caught hungry—you, yourself had been on the receiving end of a deceitful tummy growl in class. Though, you were beginning to suspect that it was not in fact his stomach that had drawn him to the kitchen. The pressure of his eyes peeking over the door frame, the wiggle of his nose, caught on the warm scents that illuminated from steaming pots. The tremble of his eyes when you had peeked behind your shoulder, anxious to feel someone’s else upon your back. Weary of a threat, only revealed to be the hero-to-be Suneater, or at least, you assumed so. The rush of his fleeing state leaving only the small tip of his pointed ears, and sway of his blueberry hair in your sights.  The third time, you steeled yourself to the eyes that traced your back. Fought back the anxiety that wiggled your bones and brought the blush to your cheekbones… shooed away any frightful fantasies. Reprimanded yourself for the brief thought that perhaps, he wanted to see you. No, no, no! shame on you, you scolded yourself as you waved your ladle in the smoke of the kitchen. As though you were exorcising such wishful thoughts from your crush-stricken brain. No, in all your time of knowing the upper classmen, you wore more than aware that… it was likely the excitement of setting up other events weather card games, or decorating with the ikebana displays had likely been too loud eventful for the quiet boy. Though his social aversion was evident, you had also noticed that when the opportunity arose, his kindness often broke through the cracks of nervousness and self-inflicted worries. He was sweet, and thoughtful, in the way he defended others on the battle field. His self-sacrifice and willingness to stand his ground—ah, it was likely the elven-eared boy was working up the courage to ask if you needed any assistance. Wishing to assist within his means.

                The roll of steam fluttered across your brow, tinted your cheeks as the all too familiar graze across your shoulders caught upon your heightened senses once again. Resisted the urge to giggle at his cute antics. The light step of his shoes tapped against the tile of the floor, his house shoes snug. Utilizing the sheen of the steel cover removed from steamed bok choy, you allowed yourself to peek at his obscured reflection in the cookware. A look of melancholy rolled across his expression, his eyes once again dusted over the ingredients, unsure of their importance. The red, the heat of the kitchen you told yourself touched upon the tip of his ears before his deep-set eyes found your reflection. His shoulders arched, and high, far too aware of how he had been caught. The turn of his heel, quick to flee once more denied swiftly as you caught the edge of his sweater. How cute he looked removed from his school uniform, snuggled into layers. “A-Amajiki-senpai, would, would you mind helping me?” You requested. Unsure if your request was far too demanding, or whether it was the reassurance he needed to bridge communication. The warmth of the night sky that stretched across the mid-evening met your own. Shyly gazing your reaction before drifting to the gaze of your fingers intertwined in his sweater. The fumble of apologies as you withdrew your fingers from his side.

Amajiki--- ah, no, he had said you could refer to him as Tamaki. Although the nervous shatter of his voice had you questioning if he was sincere, or rather, it was a forced attempt to be friendly when he was horribly uncomfortable. Oh you prayed it wasn’t the alternative. Numbly fumbled his name each time you spoke it. Basked in the appearance of Ama—Tamaki-senpai with a half apron tied at his hips. Shy to ask you questions regarding your ingredients. Little things, such as if you wanted the kabocha only washed, or fully sliced. Whether the noodles prepared were for udon or soba—nodded his understanding when you had resolved to make both. wanting to avoid a dispute amongst your classmates. How eagerly he navigated the kitchen, securing you ingredients as you requested them. The shy smile tucked at the corner of his lips, warm and soothing. Encouraged by your praise, and happy to be at your side. Flustered in the way he found himself leaning into your shoulder, nervous to answer your coos to try the broth. Panicked of the way you offered to feed him the sample while he folded the mochi dough, but most of all, it was the way that you tended to the stock. Drawn into ensuring the balance of dashi was perfect, and the miso glaze dressed across the simmered squash, when you had peeked over your shoulder.

                The ends of his hair had been pinned back with bobby pins, allowing you the rare opportunity to memorize his delicate features. The porcelain tone of his skin flushed against the heat of the kitchen. The rumble of pots teasing the tremble of your heart. The blush as his hair every reminiscent of an indigo bunting bird, and just as beautiful as its feathers carefully pinned to the side. His eyelashes, long and doll like. The almond cut of his eyes, appraised at the dough caught between his long fingers. The upper classman’s touch delicate as he molded the dough meticulously. Caught between the delicate pinch of his fingers. Rolled carefully and skillfully as though he had practiced the motions… no, you felt confident he had practiced this, maybe throughout his youth. The shy smile that found his face before lifting up the mochi for you to see. A small white plush bunny revealed between his fingers. Timid in the way he peeked down at it, and back at you, whispered, “F-for you.”

[grandmatapati]

This was useful too; I'm just happy we're going to have a BOOK, a real COOKBOOK for chronically ill and disabled people TOO.

[artandmayhem]

Many thanks to @redgoldsparks for collecting all of this information!!

PLEASE CONTACT YOUR REPRESENTATIVES ABOUT THE GENOCIDE IN GAZA!

In the UK, find email templates for contacting Parliament at humantiproject.org

In the US, find email and call templates for contracting Congress at 5calls.org

Americans can also text the White House directly at (302) 404-0880

DONATE eSIMS

Download an eSIM app, select Middle East as the region, purchase an eSIM but do not activate it. Screenshot the eSIM QR code and email it to gazaesims@gmail.com. If your eSIM isn’t activated after 3 weeks, resend the QR code. Keep resending every 3 weeks until it’s activated. Share your referral codes with friends to get discounts.

Airalo charges $39 for 3GB, Simly charges $22 for 3GG, Nomad charges $16 for 3GB

Once your eSIM is activated, you can buy top-up packages to make sure the data doesn’t run out. Follow @connectinghumanity_ for updates

Alternatively, donate to Crips for eSIMs for Gaza, run by a group of disabled activists raising money to buy eSIMs: chuffed.org/project/crips-for-esims-for-gaza

Follow @disability_visibility, @thellpsx, and @pipagaopoetry for updates

If you need more incentive, @cartoonistcoop is offering art rewards for eSIM receipts. Info here: cartoonist.coop/esims4gaza

DONATE TO GOFUNDMES

Find a list of verified fundraisers, FAQs, and volunteer opportunities at linktr.ee/opolivebranch

Follow @operationolivebranch for updates.

If choosing a single fundraiser off the list is prohibitive, use gazafunds.com, which spotlights one fundraiser at a time.

CALL FOR ART

Artists can donate posters or coloring pages to @flyers_for_falastin to add to an international database of free PDFs for use at protests. Requirements:

-a clear message supporting Palestine

-PDF or PNG file

-A4 paper size 8.27x11.69 inches or 21x29.7 cm or 2480 x 3508 pixels at 300 DPI

-include your own username and @flyers_for_falastin

-email art to watermelonrecipes@gmail.com

You can find poster pickup sites or donate for printing costs at linktr.ee/flyersforfalastin

PALESTINIAN & ISRAELI PEACE ORGANIZATIONS

Standing Together: www.standing-together.org, @standing.together.english

Women of the Sun: womensun.org, @women.of.the.sun_

Women Wage Peace: www.womenwagepeace.org.il/en/ , @womenwagepeace

The Parents Circle Families Forum: www.theparentscircle.org/en/homepage-en/ , @theparentscircle

Roots: https://www.friendsofroots.net/ , @roots_israelpalestine

Mesarvot: linktr.ee/Meaarvot, @mesarvot

ORGANIZATIONS OFFERING AID:

Palestinian Red Crescent: www.palestinercs.org/en , @palestineredcrescent

Doctors Without Borders: www.doctorswithoutborders.org, @doctorswithoutborders

World Central Kitchen: https://wck.org/ , @wckitchen

UNICEF: unicef.org/emergencies/children-gaza-need-lifesaving-support

UNRWA: www.unrwausa.org , @unrwausa

Palestinian Children’s Relief Fund: www.pcrf.net , @thepcrf

ANERA: www.anera.org, @aneraorg

[flimsy-roost]

run-on review

debated on whether to review this one before or after I tried some recipes, but I have things going on and wont be able to for at least another week and I'm afraid I'll forget (I may do mini-followups when I have), so I'm going to talk about Crip Up The Kitchen by Jules Sherred solely by the content of the book itself (this isn't really a recipe review thing anyway, who knows maybe I'll start doing that too)

I cannot stress this enough, GET YOUR HANDS ON THIS BOOK, buy it, borrow it, request your local library stock it, please please please

(I must also stress that nearly all of the recipes require a pressure cooker, so if you do not have access to one or the current ability to save up for/quickly obtain one, this book may be less useful for you at this moment in time, but would still be very worth at least borrowing to read the introductory chapters)

everything is extremely clearly laid out, how clearly you may ask, so clearly that the first 41 pages of this 250ish page cookbook is helpful background information and advice, including equipment lists (and instructions on how to use the most important things), clear guidelines for meal planning and meal prep, how to arrange your kitchen and pantry, pros and cons and instructions on how to store food in a variety of ways, charts of cook times, ways to effectively substitute ingredients for specific allergies/intolerences/aversions, every single recipe has an equipment list along with the ingredient lists, different cook times for different equipment, and clear nutritional breakdowns

instead of by type of meal/dish, recipes are organized by effort level (or number of spoons required), and the quantity of each recipe type is pyramidal (five times more low-effort than high-effort recipes) which takes a lot of guesswork/unease around fitting cooking into your life

on a more personal note, I'm literally seeing a dietician rn to figure out how to eat consistently healthy with the particularities that come with adhd/autism, was literally planning to set aside money for a chest freezer before I heard about this book, it's marketed heavily to people with physical disabilities but I figured that it could help me too, and the author literally shouts out neurodivergent people as well so it literally is also for me too which is awesome and validating, this is genuinely exactly what I needed at exactly this point in my life, the chest freezer money is being redirected to a pressure cooker and I'm so excited to start trying these recipes

this book would be helpful for anyone with any kind of physical, mental, or developmental disability, or chronic health issue, that hinders your ability to cook, I also think it would be good for people who are too busy to cook for whatever reason (swamped at work or school, overwhelmed parents/caregivers, etc), or for people who just don't like cooking but who need to/want to start for any reason (ie to save money long-term, to achieve health goals, etc), my best friend is moving into a house with a nonfunctioning kitchen and I'm pooling money with other friends/family to buy her a mini fridge, a pressure cooker, and a copy of this book

[sirthisisa-wendys]

Wendy, I sincerely hope I'm not spamming you. I just had a thought about Sanzu's part of Hand Her Over. How do you think he'd handle his wife getting pregnant by Mikey and knowing it couldn't possibly be his due to the incident where Taiju hit him with his bike? Would he raise the child and idolize it like he does Mikey or would he resent his wife and the child?

Putting myself in her shoes, I would be denying his advances and willingly going to Mikey because I'd see Mikey as a man capable of protecting me from something like that happening again.

As attractive as Haruchiyo is, having him touch me after that would make me feel gross and like I picked a man who couldn't protect me. (Haruchiyo is my absolute favorite by the way and now I'm giving him the side eye. Because his homicidal tendencies are excusable but handing his beloved over to Manjiro Sano is diabolical)

I gotchu on this, and THANK YOU for your request! Yeah, y/n is willingly going to Mikey now, but *what if she did get pregnant????*

Let us explore this together! I'm going to pull some source material from a true crime story I grew up on, so let's just call this some dark content.

Hand Her Over I (Part 9): Sanzu Haruchiyo x Fem!Reader

wc: 1.5k

tw: dark content, I said what I said

masterlist

Hand Her Over Megapost

Sanzu's eyes blur with tears as he looks at the photo.

"Sanzu?" At the sound of your voice, he blinks away his display of despair and forces a smile on his face.

"That's amazing." The tone isn't exactly what he wanted to sound like, but you seem to exhale, nodding happily.

"We should discuss the nursery and everything." Sanzu halts, staring back down at the image of the embryo. "Are you... okay?"

"Fine," Sanzu replies, returning the picture to you and resuming his chipper act. "Just... wow." You take the image and beam at him, holding it close to your chest.

Sanzu watches the baby crip come in first. He's unsure how everything came so fast, but the item is assembled without his help, and then the painters come. It's a never-ending cycle of people coming to refit the house for a child, day in and day out, and yet, Sanzu feels nothing.

He feels nothing when Mikey comes by and examines the room, making sure it was to his liking. Sanzu feels nothing when Mikey seems to brighten at the thought of having a child, his hand resting protectively on your stomach that isn't even showing yet. He feels nothing when you increase the time you spend with Manjiro, taking evening strolls and meandering about in Bed, Bath, and Beyond with him - or his credit card - in tow.

But seeds of resentment and anger fill him as the weeks go on, and you refuse his touch over and over again. Sanzu can't even share a meal with you in the open kitchen anymore; you usually pick up and leave before retreating to the bedroom, or worse, the nursery.

One morning, he wakes up in his cold bed and stares at the ceiling, wondering where he went wrong. Was it the act of handing you over to Mikey that doomed him? Or was it his loyalty - that couldn't even be reciprocated - that set him on the path he's on now?

He isn't sure, but that doesn't stop him from staring at himself in the mirror and walking through his plan one last time.

"Mikey's out on business this week," you announce as he walks into the kitchen, his shirt wrinkled and pants unironed. "But I need to go to the Obstetrician tomorrow."

"And you expect me to take you?" Sanzu wonders, sipping on a glass of water. You look up from your meal, frowning.

"Are you busy?"

"No," Sanzu affirms, shrugging. "I was just asking." Shit. You were expected somewhere tomorrow. Sanzu tosses the water into the sink and runs the tap briefly before setting the cup down. "I'll take you."

One more sleep.

Taking you to the OBGYN isn't new or out of his depth. He can do this. This one last thing would be enough. Then...

Sanzu lets you out at the entrance to the clinic and waits for you in the parking lot. His mind swirls with thoughts as he holds a water bottle in his hands, nearly cracking it with the force of his squeeze. No, he reasons, setting the bottle down and unscrewing the lid. I can't give up now. Not when I'm so close to freedom.

It takes an hour before you call him, standing at the entrance in your black mink coat and mitts. Sanzu pulls up obediently - ever the chauffeur - and helps you inside the car.

"Everything go alright?" Sanzu wonders, smiling at you.

"Almost three months," you sing. It takes everything in Sanzu not to vomit right there. What makes it worse is that you're running down a list of potential baby names when he gets back in the car.

"I think 'Mira' is a great name for a girl," you murmur, finger running down the piece of paper. "What do you think, Sanzu?"

"I think it's great," he lies, gripping the steering wheel tightly. You hum in delight and grab the water bottle in the cup holder, taking a long gulp from it and smacking your lips.

"That's really good," you sigh, then begin to blather on about boys' names. Sanzu grits his teeth. It takes every cell in his body to avoid running the car off the road and into a ditch.

You're halfway home when you begin to nod off. Sanzu looks down at the water bottle and notices it's almost empty, too. He doesn't even make a noise - lest he rouses you from your sleep - and exits off the highway. It isn't long before his destination looms in the distance, and the smell of earth and water meet as one.

The docks are empty, save a single vessel preserved for his use, and Sanzu turns the car off before turning to you. You're still asleep. He exits the vehicle and opens your side of the car, lifting you from the passenger side without too much effort.

The clock is ticking.

The small fishing boat is covered in plastic on the normally uncovered floors, but otherwise - everything looks as if it's been prepped for him properly.

"We're going on a small fishing trip," Sanzu grunts, hefting you into the boat and taking his place next to you. Run the motor. The machine sputters to life and drags away from the shore, bobbing lazily as the sun finds its way home. Sanzu knows in the back of his mind that he has other options, but... he can't feasibly live with any of them. Any of them except this one.

When Sanzu can see nothing but water, he stops the motor and waits. And waits. And waits. Sure, the clock may be ticking, but he has all the time in the world out here. No wonder people love to fish all day.

You awaken from your "nap" with a jolt, shaking the boat and rustling the plastic around you. You grab at the edge, your fingers clawing at the lip of the boat, and you stare at the expanse of water before turning to look at Sanzu with rage.

"What the fuck are we doing out---"

"Shhh, shhh, shh." Sanzu urges you, placing a finger to his lips. "It's nice and quiet out here."

"Are you on meth?" you shout back, your face full of fury. Yes, Sanzu thinks to himself. Feel the rage. Feel the rage I've been at the mercy of.

"I'm definitely not sober," Sanzu laughs, leaning back. His arm rests on the motor. "But that's not why we're here." Your lips twitch, but you don't speak. You know better than that.

"Mikey will kill you when he finds out."

"Good," Sanzu smirks, looking at his fingernails. "All the better for me, the scorned husband." You flinch, a hand reaching toward your belly. "Don't do that." Sanzu snarls, standing up abruptly. The boat rocks back and forth, and you grip the sides again, your chest heaving.

But you don't beg for forgiveness or mercy. You just stare him down with your unwavering eyes. Why aren't you begging or giving him concessions so he can turn the boat around and forget all about this? Why aren't you doing what he wanted?

"That's not my kid."

"I know."

"And you're still having it?"

"Yes!" you reply with fervor, your forehead wrinkling. "I would rather eat rocks than abort it."

"Why?" Sanzu's voice is a mere shadow of what it once was. He's sad, he's lonely, he's broken. Can't you just say you'll abort it and never leave him again?

"Because you did this. You made me into a monster by giving me over to Mikey. This is your penance."

"But you don't love him." Your lips seal together, and finally, you give him a look of submission. "You don't." Sanzu is coaxing you to say that you don't, but you don't reply. "Right?"

"I--"

"You don't!"

"I do."

"No," Sanzu whimpers, tunnel visioning in on everything he's ever lost. "This was not how this was supposed to go; No... No..."

"Sanzu, I love him and want to have this baby." Sanzu can barely hear you over the voices in his head, his past self rolling his eyes, the sight of your baby being born--

He can't take it. He lunges for you.

"You can't--" The boat tips over, and you both scream, hitting the water at the same time. Sanzu's mind blanks, scrambling for some kind of purchase to flip the boat over and rescue... rescue...

Sanzu looks around. Rescue who?

The water in his lungs refuses to evacuate, but he can see the black coat just beyond his reach. Maybe if he could--

The water is clear enough for him to see that there is no saving to be done. You're sinking faster than he can catch you, and even if you weren't... the plastic suffocating you is enough. So he stares.

Sanzu has options.

But he could live with only one of them.

So he resurfaces and tips the boat back over, climbs into the vessel, and tugs on the motor enough times for it to start pitifully.

[fem-boy-toy]

I love autumn~

The air is crips again. Its nice and cold so I can wear big oversized hoodies again. I can bundled up in my blankets and enjoy the rain bucketing down outside. Its a time of warm drinks and hearty food. A time for coziness, sitting curled up in blankets, listening to the rain while I'm warm and comfy indoors with a hot cup of tea and cookies.

I wish I had an enormous heavy pregnant belly to go along with that. Keeping me warm, weighing me down as I snuggle in bed all day, waddling to the kitchen to get another hot cup tea, struggling to carry it's immense weight around. So massive and swollen and full of new life.

[llycaons]

🇵🇸 Vetted fundraisers for Palestine 🇵🇸 (13/20)

Hi all, here are some more campaigns of the people who have reached out to me recently!

Muhammad Ayesh: @ayeshjourney (prev acct. @moayesh was terminated) // Muhammed hasn't reached out to me, but I'm highlighting his campaign because he's been tirelessly and selflessly working with gaza-evacuation-funds to verify hundreds of other campaigns for MONTHS. He's set up a fundraiser for his younger brother's cochlear implant repair and speech therapy sessions, which I've personally donated to and which I hope others will as well given his efforts. // donate // £24,955/£60,000)

Ahmed Muneer and his four children: @ahmadmoneer, @ahmadalanqar1993, @ahmadalanqar1992, and @ahmadalanqar1990 // vetted by 90-ghost // donate // €3,470/€30,000

Karam Rafiq Al-Nabih's family: @karamrafeek // vetted by 90-ghost and gaza-evacuation-funds (old campaign) // donate (new link as he needed to restart his campaign) // £3,135/£7,000

Belal's family: @help-belalfamily and @save-belal-family // vetted by 90-ghost and #41 on GazaVetters list // donate // $4,381/$20,000

Hassan Madi's family: @hassanmadi, @hassanmadi4, and @somaiahassansworld // vetted by gaza-evacuation-funds and by association // donate // €2,270/€50,000

Shaima and Ibrahim Al-Sir: @ibrahem-88, @shaimaasblog, and @hema-890 // #62 on GazaVetters list // donate // €4,420/€50,000

Heba Al-Anqar's family: @heba-baker and @aya-baker // vetted by 90-ghost // donate // €6,433/€60,000

Ahmed R. Al-Louh's family: @ahmadallouhahmad32 // vetted by association // donate // €8,820/€50,000

Aya, Islam, and and their three children: @familyislam and @family-aya // #100 on GazaVetters list // donate // €8,848/€15,000

Jihad, Aya, and their three young children: @ayaanqarsblog, @ayaalanqar8 and @ayaalanqar9 // vetted by 90-ghost // donate // €15,513/€30,000

All of these campaigns are legitimate and all these people do need support for food, medical care, clothing, and shelter when winter comes. Every little bit really does help :)

If you’re interested in supporting communal efforts to provide food and supplies for even more people, check out Operation Olive Branch, The Sameer Project, Gaza Soup Kitchen, Care for Gaza, Crips for eSims, Mona’s distribution initiative (Instagram), Palestinian Communist Party, and Life For Gaza (water municipality project).

Thanks, everyone! 🇵🇸

[theehorsepusssy]

I unironically love a taco salad (with Doritos), but if you try serving it to me like that I will leave.

I have no idea how to cook but I am from ohio and have been blessed with a knack for pulling off a killer White Trash Taco Salad.

I once made this for a Spanish class project and received an A+ I have no clue what this had to do with the Spanish language but again, this was ohio in 1983.

I also made this for our company picnic we held when I lived by that condemned Middle School where they filmed that movie Elephant about the gay pew pew pew teenagers. A bunch of the kitchen crew were gang member so a bunch of crips or maybe bloods showed up and we got stoned and they really loved my taco salad so much they took my tupperware with all the leftovers.

And those leftovers are fucking delicious in a disgusting " stoned at 3am" kind of way. It's all soggy and salty and shit. Anyway....

TheeHorsePussy's White Trash Taco Salad

• Cook your ground beef with an onion and taco seasoning. Cool

• Dressing is a pint sour cream and tall bottle of taco sauce.

• Chop iceberg lettuce and tomatoes. Pour in a big drained can of kidney beans, the beef, big old bag of shredded cheddar. Them stir in dressing. Then crush a couple handfuls of regular red bag Doritos and stir into mix.

• Put bowl into fridge and go get absolutely fucking baked. Then maybe smoke a cigarette to give time for the Doritos to get a bit soggy.

• Crush some more doritos on top before serving

[mthguy]

“Empire State of Mind” - Jay Z featuring Alicia Keys

Yeah, I'm out that Brooklyn, now I'm down in Tribeca Right next to De Niro, but I'll be hood forever I'm the new Sinatra, and since I made it here I can make it anywhere, yeah, they love me everywhere I used to cop in Harlem – hola, my Dominicanos (Dinero!) Right there up on Broadway, brought me back to that McDonald's Took it to my stash spot, 560 State Street Catch me in the kitchen, like a Simmons whipping pastry Cruising down 8th Street, off-white Lexus Driving so slow, but BK is from Texas Me? I'm out that Bed-Stuy, home of that boy Biggie Now I live on Billboard and I brought my boys with me Say what up to Ty Ty, still sipping Mai Tais Sitting courtside, Knicks and Nets give me high fives Nigga, I be spiked out, I could trip a referee Tell by my attitude that I'm most definitely from In New York (Ay, aha) (Uh, yeah) Concrete jungle (Yeah) where dreams are made of There's nothing you can't do (Yeah) (OK) Now you're in New York (Aha, aha, aha) (Uh, yeah) These streets will make you feel brand-new (New) Big lights will inspire you (Come on) (OK) Let's hear it for New York (You welcome, OG) (Uh) New York (Yeah), New York (Uh) (I made you hot, nigga) Catch me at the X with OG at a Yankee game Shit, I made the Yankee hat more famous than a Yankee can You should know I bleed blue, but I ain't a Crip though But I got a gang of niggas walking with my clique though Welcome to the melting pot, corners where we're selling rock Africa Bambaataa shit, home of the hip-hop Yellow cab, gypsy cab, dollar cab, holler back For foreigners, it ain't fair, they act like they forgot how to add Eight million stories out there in the naked City, it's a pity half of y'all won't make it Me? I gotta plug Special Ed, "I Got It Made" If Jeezy's paying LeBron, I'm paying Dwyane Wade Three dice cee-lo, three-card Marley Labor Day Parade—rest in peace, Bob Marley Statue of Liberty, long live the World Trade Long live the king, yo—I'm from the Empire State, that's In New York (Ay) (Uh, yeah) Concrete jungle where dreams are made of There's nothing you can't do (That boy good) (OK) Now you're in New York (Welcome to the bright lights, baby) (Uh, yeah) These streets will make you feel brand-new Big lights will inspire you (OK) Let's hear it for New York (Uh) New York (Yeah), New York (Uh) Lights is blinding, girls need blinders So they can step out of bounds quick, the side lines is Lined with casualties who sip the life casually Then gradually become worse – don't bite the apple, Eve! Caught up in the in-crowd, now you're in-style Into the winter gets cold, en vogue with your skin out City of sin is a pity on a whim Good girls gone bad, the city's filled with them Mami, took a bus trip, now she got her bust out Everybody ride her, just like a bus route "Hail Mary" to the city, you're a virgin And Jesus can't save you, life starts when the church end Came here for school, graduated to the high life Ball players, rap stars, addicted to the limelight MDMA got you feeling like a champion The city never sleeps, better slip you're a Ambien In New York (Ay, ow) (Uh, yeah) Concrete jungle where dreams are made of There's nothing you can't do (OK) Now you're in New York (Uh, yeah) These streets will make you feel brand-new Big lights will inspire you (OK) Let's hear it for New York (Uh) New York (Yeah), New York (Uh) One hand in the air for the big city (Oh) Street lights, big dreams, all looking pretty (Oh) No place in the world that could compare (Nah) Put your lighters in the air, everybody say "Yeah, yeah" (Come on, come on) "Yeah, yeah" (Come on) In New York (Uh, yeah) Concrete jungle where dreams are made of There's nothing you can't do (OK) Now you're in New York (Uh, yeah) These streets will make you feel brand-new Big lights will inspire you (OK) Let's hear it for New York (Uh) New York (Yeah), New York (Uh)