#grapefruit writes

[macgyvermedical]

I encountered a drug called "Dextromethorphan" when looking up things that react with grapefruits for a fic. I found out it's been banned in Sweden since the 90s, so I couldn't use it for this specific story, but if you've got any interesting history I'd be happy so know!

Are you ready for this? Like. Ask yourself. Are you really ready for this?

In 1954, a researcher with the US Public Health Service received $282,215 (1954 dollars) from the US Navy, ostensibly to find a non-addictive alternative to an opiate drug called codeine (used for pain and and as a cough suppressant).

So the researcher found a bunch of people who had substance abuse disorder and tested 800 substances on them, trying to find ones that couldn't cause physical or psychological dependence, even on people who were prone to that sort of thing.

(Now, you might be asking if this experiment was ethical. The USPHS was concurrently doing the infamous Tuskegee Syphilis Study, so while I couldn't find any concrete answer, imma guess no.)

Out of these 800 tested substances, we use 3 today: propoxyphene (used as a painkiller), diphenoxylate (used as a diarrhea medication), and dextromethophan (a cough suppressant (and, as of 2022, part of a fast-acting antidepressant)).

Importantly, it was later noted that all of these are addictive substances and today most of them require a prescription. Though depending on where you are in the world, you might just have to be over 21 and show an ID.

You might think this sounds like a pretty standard story.

You would be wrong.

Because while the US Navy was the one handing the money to the USPHS, the US Navy had come by it via the Central Intelligence Agency.

Yes. The good ol' CIA.

So what stake did the CIA have in a non-addictive codeine replacement? Nothing, it turns out. That's just what they'd told the US Navy. What they really wanted was an incapacitant- a drug that causes incapacitation like unconsciousness or continuous hallucinations- without killing. Incapacitants are also useful for discrediting prominent political figures by making them look like they have severe mental health concerns, which was another reason the CIA wanted them.

This was part of a project called MKPILOT.

And wouldn't you like to know which of the three listed above they liked the most? Dextromethorphan. Because at high doses it causes severe- and incapacitating- hallucinations (this is also why it is banned in Sweden).

The problem with it is that it requires really, really high doses (about 3 grams, which would have to be packaged in some other substrate)- this would make it difficult to slip into a drink or food.

(It should be noted that around the same time, the US Army was doing research into a much more usable incapacitant called 3-Quinuclidinyl Benzilate which required as little as 150mg of the substance to be useful- it was featured in a MacGyver episode and I did a nice little review of it here. While I have no sources that say the CIA was directly involved in funding this, based on their extensive funding of similar DoD projects at the time, they probably did.)

But you wanted to know about how grapefruit interacts with dextromethorphan:

A substance in grapefruit (along with seville oranges, limes, pomelos, and possibly pomegranates) blocks the pathway by which many drugs are metabolized in the liver. This causes the levels of drug in the body to be much higher than expected. In the case of dextromethorphan in particular, it can mean that the drug stays in the body a lot longer- up to 24 hours instead of the usual 3-4 hours. It can also make side effects and toxic effects significantly worse, leading to hallucinations and sedation, even at low doses normally used for coughing.

[simmerandwrite]

wellllp, part 2 of grapefruit sidecar is already longer than part 1. and we only juuuuust got our clothes off so.... it's going to be an adventure lol

[purpleandgreen13]

Happy Inktober 2024 Stardew Valley peeps!

I'm using the Grapefruit Sky Stardew Valley Inktober List, twinned with the Stardew Valley Fanfiction Writers Discord. Here's my first contribution: New Clothes Full list is here: STARDEW VALLEY INKTOBER 2024 – @purpleandgreen13 on Tumblr I'm beginning the month with some Shane fluff. Don't faint, this is new for me too :D Don't forget if you're tackling any of these prompts as a writer there is a collection on AO3 you can add to if you want. Stardew Valley Inktober Challenge 2024

[beyond-the-raining-field]

you say you loved me then cracked me open, dumping my seeds into a bowl for your consumption. I would say that’s romantic but you washed the flavour away. You peel my skin and squeeze me dry, anger rising at the juice in your eye. I’m sorry for my defensive nature around you, I’ll do my best when you next take a bite.

[dee-daa]

i think we should start using the citrus scale again

[hertwood]

Very strong and brave (asked the ticket checker which direction the cafe car is)

[etchif]

I love making polls so much it's so fun

[hellogirlslikegirlslikeboysdo]

Clementines, Mandarins, and Other Orange Cravings: The Dictionary - Page 92

(Volume 1 and only, written by Noone You Need to Know)

Note: I wrote the entirety of this piece to nothing but this song on loop and I highly recommend reading it that way too :) Pg. Index and pg. 225, 401, 145, 159, 167, 152, 151, 60, 92, 134, 149, and 203

grapefruit (o •            • th • ang • ks) prep. the interior gut muscles rotting openly in the corner of your fruit bowl, much to the distaste of your houseguests. too clunky and oafish to share in any meaningful way. dirtybadwrong. [somewhere cold and cruel, most likely unnecessary.] Do not see; orange.

[Image of an artistic rendition of a grapefruit, stylized for safe human consumption]

[olddirtybadfic]

if this ship sinks, i won't blame the mermaids for eating my fingers off

I may have blueshipped too close to the vortex. Now I'm spiraling in a whirlpool of horny Gyarados and the submarine really isn't helping matters.

-O-o-O-o-O-

Meowth was a sucker for round things. In his gravid state, James fit the description to a “T.”

He gazed across the bed. James was laid out on his back, the moonlight from the window falling on the rise of his kitten bump. His hair fanned out over the pillow like so much blue silk. A slender hand nestled against his lower belly. A moon-pale, delicate foot poked out from under the sheets.

He let his eyes rest on that foot, with its finely shaped arch and soft toes. James often complained about the appearance of his swollen feet, but Meowth saw things differently. The few harsh angles were softened, emphasizing the smoothness of James’s skin. But maybe he was just so attracted to James, it didn’t matter what his feet looked like.

Meowth remembered the experiment that started this whole thing. They’d been asked by Team Rocket labs to participate in a special breeding experiment to determine if humans and Pokémon could interbreed. Since their team wasn’t exactly bringing in the powerful Pokémon, the higher-ups figured they could at least be useful as test subjects.

The fact that Meowth and James had already started a Pokébestial relationship was merely a bonus.

He let his mind drift back to their first breeding attempt. His Jimmy had been a virgin before the relationship, but he learned quick (at least when it came to sex). Within a few tries, Meowth had him squealing so loud, they probably woke the whole forest. Jessie invested in a comfortable set of earplugs after the first few times.

Meowth could hear the falsetto moan James had let out when he slid into him. He could almost get drunk on the memory of that potent perfume of roses, Victreebel saliva, and human pheromones that made up James’s signature scent. As James rolled his hips, the sides of his entrance caressed Meowth’s dick in a warm, wet embrace.

He remembered how James had gripped the sheets as he plunged deeper. James was panting like he’d pedaled the Magikarp sub around the entire Orange Archipelago. The pheromones radiated from hair as blue and wet as any ocean while Meowth plumbed James’s depths.

“Blast me off, Meowth,” James was moaning. “Blast me sky high so I can fall pregnant back to earth!”

So Meowth just started blasting.

That seemed to send James into orbit. His eyelashes fluttered and he twitched all over like he was getting shocked by Pikachu. Meowth vaguely remembered James biting the back of his fingers, as if he needed to balance the pleasure with pain. Meowth couldn’t be sure that was what was happening, though. He was wrapped up in his own climax as he planted his seed in James.

In that moment, he understood completely why Victreebel always wanted a taste of James. The smells coming off of James were sweeter than any Sweet Scent he’d faced in battle (not that he’d been in many battles; Meowth considered himself a different kind of Pokémon).

The scent reminded Meowth that it was now his cue to grab James’s dick and roll it between his paws. Gently, of course—his Jimmy was very sensitive. Just a few swivels were enough to push him over the edge.

Cats excelled at pushing things over the edge.

James’s rocket blasted off spectacularly. The ropes shot out like he’d just deployed a Poké-napping net. By the time he was spent, it looked like a Spinarak shot web across his stomach.

Meowth fell into the spot beside James as both of them basked in the afterglow. Meowth was purring. James was purring. Meowth grabbed James’s hand in his paw. James let out a barely audible sigh.

After they’d calmed down a bit, James had looked down at his stomach. “I made such a mess,” he said in mock remorse.

Meowth had rolled over to watch James clenchingly make his way to the bathroom. He didn’t know why, but he fixated on the pearls of jism rolling down James’s thigh. Probably because they, too, were round. Meowth was always a sucker for round things.

Over the next few weeks, it took them a few more tries, but eventually Meowth knocked James up. And here they were now.

Meowth was brought out of his reverie by a soft yawn. James shifted in his sleep, then opened his eyes and gave Meowth a smoldering half-smile. The half-mast eyelids and pheromone cocktail fanned the two green flames.

His Jimmy was rustled.

-O-o-O-

The heat was rising within James. The urge was upon him again.

James knew he wasn’t really in heat, of course. He was still pregnant, and humans didn’t go into heat, anyway. But as of late, he’d been feeling as though he might start caterwauling if Meowth didn’t stick him right then and there.

Ever since James had entered the latter weeks of his pregnancy, his hormones had been driving him mad. He and Meowth hadn’t copulated since it started and James had discovered quickly that certain desires did not wane, even after they’d served their purpose. His libido was somewhat dampened in the early stages, however. It was hard to get in the mood when one was virtually a vomit fountain.

Fortunately for him, his morning sickness subsided as the gestation wore on. Now his only issue was that he was too sleepy to think about sex.

No…. That wasn’t quite right. James had enjoyed a number of erotic dreams over the past few weeks. They ran the gamut from simple but sweet (James, clapping his buttocks on Meowth’s cock in a sort of anal applause) to stimulating and steamy.

One such fantasy transpired thus. James had washed up, sans raiment, on an unknown shore. The population appeared to consist entirely of tiny talking Meowths. Their Lilliputian leader was a hot air balloonist and announced that he wished to welcome the nude giant. He climbed into a hot air balloon with a phallus affixed to the basket. Just as he was about to dock it in the cave on James’s backside, a tidal wave sprang up from the ocean. James had woken up drenched in sweat. He also needed to change the sheets.

Another saw him as a fiery Moltres, soaring high above the earth. Meowth bounded after him in hot pursuit. James swooped down, flames trailing behind, and landed in a circle of flaming stones. There, he waited and watched as Meowth caught up to him. Meowth marched right into the ring of fire, the words “I am the unburnt,” on his lips. He rode James the Moltres, but not through the sky. James woke from that one feeling very flaming indeed.

Yet another flight of fancy put him in a hall of mirrors in front of a Jack-in-the-Box. Though the reflections were distorted, James could make out that he was sporting pigtails and a clown nose. In place of a crank, the Jack-in-the-Box bore a perfect replica of Meowth’s penis. James instinctively knew to massage the penis on the box. Out popped Meowth, dressed in a harlequin print jester costume. 

At that point in the dream, James’s nipples began to throb; he looked down and saw that they had transformed into bright red orbs, a funhouse mirror image of his clown nose. Meowth seemed intrigued by this; he put his paws on James’s nipples and gently squeezed. Each squeeze produced a honking sound and an arc of milk that Meowth caught in his mouth. James’s nethers were a flower squirting a liquid that was decidedly not seltzer. James awakened from that one with a tent in his pajamas and his teats tender and leaking.

He also had a craving for cream pie and Meowth was the only chef with the recipe.

Back in the present, James felt a flush rise on his face. He was hit by a sudden rush of shame at his loss of mental control, their failure to capture Pikachu, even his dreadful lack of sexual knowledge before the experiment. Meowth practically had to explain sex to him, since his parents hadn’t seen fit to. So many shames; it rhymed with James.

Meowth must have read it on his face. “No, Jimmy,” he said, placing a comforting set of paws on James’s shoulders. “It’s okay. You got needs, too.” Meowth’s voice was gentle, but James could hear undertones of reciprocal rut. The timing was perfect.

“I need you, Meowth. Right now.”

James didn’t need to ask twice. Meowth helped him out of his pajamas—no easy feat, considering how swollen James was at the moment, even with the lubricious luster his lust did muster. Verily, the sweat might have hindered Meowth’s removal of James’s clothing. Waiting only made James more randy. In his delirium, he found himself half whispering, half chanting, “Come, kitty. Come, kitty.”

Meowth chuckled. “We’ll get dere, Jimmy. Don’t getcha panties in a knot.”

“Growlithes have knots,” James thought. “But Meowth has a French tickler dick.” He’d learnt that the first time they coupled. He wondered if Meowth could control each individual nodule, like a Tentacruel and its tentacles. He could never quite remember to ask.

He couldn’t very well ask with Meowth’s lips pressing against his. And as soon as Meowth’s musk wafted into his nose, he forgot completely. The human sense of smell was not as strong as a Meowth’s, but the pregnancy hormones had sharpened James’s nose. Notes of catnip stood out in a scent stream sweeter than that tree sap Victreebel and Heracross loved.

“Like da taste?” Meowth asked, lapping at James’s chin.

“Yes,” James breathed. Baked tuna: James had cooked it for their dinner that evening.

Meowth worked his way down, giving ample attention to James’s nipples. No honking resulted; the only sounds were Meowth’s sucking and James’s low moaning as Meowth’s tongue nodules dandled James's dugs.

“Like the taste?” James drawled.

Meowth grinned. “Your milk’s comin’ in early.”

Meowth moved ever southward, brushing over the great dome that housed their five kittens. James giggled as Meowth rubbed himself all over the sensitive swelling.

“Oh, James, you’re so round.” Meowth swirled his tail around James’s sides. He tongued James’s navel, the nodules tracing the feathery white stretch marks.

James barely heard him. “Goodness gracious….”

“You ain’t seen nuttin’ yet.” Meowth slid himself into James’s crotch. He lifted James’s penis and nudged a feline finger into the orifice beneath. Those kitty beans on his pork sword were getting James nice and marinated.

Meowth noticed instantly. “You’re soaked. Lucky for you, I love dis kinda wet.”

Meowth dove in headfirst. James let out a cry of pleasure as he felt the nodules on his inner walls. He rolled his hips as much as his condition would allow. Meowth gyrated his own hips, causing his penis to stir inside of James like a spoon in cake batter. James kegeled on Meowth’s cock. Would that he had grippers in his nethers; he could massage every node on Meowth’s dick.

Meowth threw his head back, his whiskers fanning around his face. “I’m comin’, Jimmy!” he declared to the stars above. “I think it’s time!” His tail whipped around like a helicopter’s blade.

James was too far-gone to stay quiet. “Fill me with your white tomorrow!” he cried.

Meowth filled James like a cream pastry. James nipped at the back of his forefinger joints. It did little to curb his enthusiasm. He hoped Jessie’s earplugs held up.

But, oh. Oh no. His own cannoli was about to go explody. He’d forgotten to put on protection; he’d have such a mess to clean up and, in his state, he didn’t know if he’d have the energy.

Meowth seemed to notice his mild distress. “Don’t worry, Jimmy. I gotcha.” He pulled out of James and disappeared below the bump.

“Bless him,” James thought, tears misting his eyes. “He’s going to save me the cleanup.” 

Meowth closed his mouth around James’s penis and commenced the fellatio. He was always such a sucker for round things.

-O-o-O-o-O-

*puts on clown nose, walks plank, lands in James and Meowth's sex sweat* TONIGHT WE DINE ON DOVE

[therichremember]

Friends, I think this might be misinformation. I could not find any studies backing up the fact that vitamin c affects absorption of adhd medication (if anyone has found any please send them my way). Also, I personally question how vitamin c being present in the stomach would interfere with the meds but stomach acid wouldnt. That being said it wont harm you to not eat any of the foods mentioned in the screenshot for a few hours a day but you might just be depriving yourself of delicious lemonade for no good reason.

(some online articles mentioned that vitamin c lowers the pH of your blood or just 'lowers the pH of your body', which prevents absorption. this is not true. your blood contains buffers to keep its pH within a narrow set range)

There are a lot of articles online repeating this information but they either provide no scientific sources or only reference the document linked above (which in itself provides no sources which is frustrating as hell). This becomes obvious because a lot of them mention the 1000 mg vitamin c dose. The daily recommended intake for most adults is <100 mg.

All that is to say, please don't take medical advice from tumblr at face value (including this addition. Im not an expert either). If your medications are having inconcsistent effects your should discuss this with a doctor or pharmacist if at all possible. Vitamin c is an important micronutrient and one of the easiest to obtain please dont stop eating fruit ok <3.

i know vitamin c basically neutralizes adhd meds but lemonade good

[jungwnies]

f1 grid (1/2) | orange theory

୨ৎ : featuring : max verstappen, lewis hamilton, george russell, carlos sainz, charles leclerc, lando norris, oscar piastri (click here for part two) ୨ৎ : synopsis (requested by @holycastles) : quiet moments where love is tested through the smallest acts because sometimes, peeling an orange says more than 'i love you.'

୨ৎ : genre : fluff & romance ୨ৎ : word count : 1214

୨ৎ masterlist ୨ৎ

ᡣ𐭩 a/n : i love love love writing things based off of tik-tok trends, it's so sweet and cute >.< also i know these are super short but i think that it reallyyy captures their personalities :)

ʚ・max verstappen

you toss an orange at max during downtime and go, “peel this for me?”

he catches it mid-air, looks at you, deadpan. “what am i? your personal chef?”

you snort and walk away, not expecting anything. max doesn’t do sweet, right? not like that.

but a few minutes later, you find the orange sitting on the counter, peeled perfectly — skin discarded, slices arranged in a neat spiral.

you eye him across the room, arms folded. “did you peel this?” he shrugs without looking up from his phone. “was bored.”

you know better. max verstappen doesn’t get bored. he gets intentional.

the next day, he grabs one for himself — and another for you. doesn’t say a word. just peels both and hands one over like it’s routine.

when you try to thank him, he waves it off. “don’t get soft on me now.”

but when he catches you smiling, he smirks.

because of course he peeled it. of course he cares.

he just needs you to understand that his love isn’t loud — it’s in the quiet things. like protecting you from citrus juice and acting like it means nothing.

ʚ・lewis hamilton

you barely get the words out, “can you peel this for me?”

and lewis is already taking the orange from your hand.

“no problem, babe.”

he sits beside you, cross-legged on the couch, and starts peeling it with careful fingers, chatting about his day while he removes the white pith piece by piece.

then he gets up, walks to the kitchen, and returns with it sliced.

“i thought we’d elevate the citrus experience.”

you stare at him, wide-eyed. “lewis, it’s an orange.”

“exactly,” he grins. “you deserve your fruit with style.”

he kisses your forehead, then curls up beside you as if he didn’t just turn a tiktok test into an act of service so soft it made your heart melt.

he never calls attention to it, but he always peels your oranges after that. leaves them in little containers when you’re busy. packs them in your bag before flights.

you never have to ask again. and you know why.

because lewis isn’t just your boyfriend — he’s the kind of person who peels oranges like he’s caring for your soul.

ʚ・george russell

george blinks down at the orange you placed in his lap like it’s a bomb. “…you want me to peel this?”

“yup,” you grin. “no knife allowed.”

he stares at it, then at you. “this is a trick, isn’t it?”

“nope. just love language stuff.”

he huffs but you can see the gears turning. within two minutes, he’s looked up the most efficient orange peeling methods on his phone and begins carefully creating what can only be described as citrus origami.

“george, you’re taking this too seriously.”

“incorrect. i’m taking you seriously.”

he finishes with a perfectly spiraled peel, hands you the orange like a gift, and raises his brows. “well? did i pass your little test?”

you bite into a slice and nod, stunned. “you aced it. definitely best in class.”

he beams and mutters something about how he’d like that on the record.

you find out later that he’s now obsessed with fruit prep. pineapples. mangoes. grapefruits. the works.

all because you handed him a single orange.

and george russell doesn’t do anything halfway, especially not love.

ʚ・carlos sainz

you hand carlos an orange and say, “can you peel this for me?”

he blinks. “are your hands broken?”

you give him a look. he gives you one back.

he sighs. “you’re doing one of your tiktok psychology things again, aren’t you?”

you say nothing. just smile sweetly and leave the room.

a few minutes later, you hear him mumbling in spanish, something like “why do i always fall for this nonsense…”

but sure enough, the orange is peeled. slices separated. a napkin even folded beside it.

you grin. “i knew you loved me.”

he points a finger. “i only did it because i didn’t want you making a mess.”

“sure,” you say, popping a slice in your mouth. “that’s the reason.”

the next day, you find two oranges in your lunch bag. peeled. packed. one labeled “for mi amor” with a heart.

carlos acts like he has no idea how they got there.

but when you thank him with a kiss on the cheek, he just hums and goes, “well… i do spoil you.”

and you both know the truth: he always will.

ʚ・charles leclerc

when you ask charles to peel an orange for you, he doesn’t even blink. “okay.”

you expected teasing. maybe a confused “why?” or at least a sarcastic comment.

but no, he just quietly takes it and starts peeling like it’s the most normal thing in the world.

halfway through, he looks up. “…wait. is this a test?”

you nearly choke laughing.

“oh my god. it’s one of those tiktoks, isn’t it?”

you nod. “so? did you pass?”

he pauses, holding out the perfectly peeled fruit. “i mean… it’s in one piece. that’s worth at least a b+.”

you take a slice and smile. “a+ for effort.”

charles keeps stealing glances at you the rest of the day.

that night, he casually places another peeled orange on your nightstand before bed.

no words. just soft fingers brushing yours as he hands it over.

and in the quiet, you realize this man would do anything for you.

even pass little love tests without realizing he was taking them.

ʚ・lando norris

“peel it yourself,” lando says immediately when you hand him the orange.

you pout. “fine. i just thought you loved me.”

he groans like you just kicked his puppy. “oh come on.”

you walk away.

ten minutes later, you hear him cursing softly in the kitchen.

“why is this so hard?! this peel is evil.”

he returns with a mangled, chaotic-looking orange and dramatically sets it in front of you.

“it’s done. don’t say i never do anything for you.”

you try to bite into a slice and get hit with the bitterness of leftover peel.

“you suck at this,” you laugh.

he grins and kisses your temple. “yeah, but i tried. and that counts.”

the next day, he hands you a pre-peeled orange in a ziploc bag like he’s been training for it.

he also printed a label that says “from your emotionally available boyfriend.”

progress.

ʚ・oscar piastri

when you hand oscar an orange and ask him to peel it, he gives you the driest look imaginable. “…why?”

“just do it,” you say, kicking your feet on the couch. “please?”

he doesn’t ask questions. just takes the orange and gets to work.

two minutes later, he hands it back, peeled clean, slices stacked neatly like a pinterest tutorial.

you raise a brow. “…that was suspiciously fast.”

he shrugs. “it’s not that hard.”

“you didn’t even ask why i wanted it peeled.”

“didn’t need to. you wanted it, i did it. simple.”

your heart actually stumbles.

later that night, he places another orange in your hands, already peeled, in a container, lid snapped on.

he doesn’t say anything. just walks off like it’s no big deal.

but you’re left there holding the container like he just proposed.

because when oscar piastri quietly decides to care about you he really means it.

2021-2025 © jungwnies | All rights reserved. Do not repost, plagiarize, or translate

[marigold-hills]

Regulus reads the ransom letter over French toast. There’s a half-grapefruit waiting for him, a cup of aromatic coffee, and a pot of Darjeeling. By all accounts, it’s the perfect breakfast.

Dear Lady Black, the letter reads, in a cursive written by someone who can’t write in cursive, I am sorry to say I have abducted your son, Master Regulus Black. Don’t worry, he is perfectly safe and will remain so, however if you would like to… the letter continues in such a manner. Even Regulus isn’t sure if he’d been kidnapped (sorry, abducted), or if he has simply popped out for a day with an old friend. There is only a vague mention of ransom – never mind the amount – and the man had signed with his full name.

“James Potter?”

“Yes?” the man – James – responds. Perks up.

“That’s really your name? And you put it in the letter?”

“Seemed the polite thing to do.”

“Are you dumb?”

James looks somewhere between affronted and amused. Not how people usually answer to being insulted.

Regulus twirls the fork in his fingers, and it turns into a rather smart – albeit still silver – quill. He’s always been adept at transfiguration. James snags on the movement, takes in a sharp breath. A click of fingers and the parchment turns blank.

To Her Excellence Lady Black, Regulus writes, using his non-dominant hand to obscure his handwriting. The words are rendered in a non-recognisable, but still stunning cursive.

As you are by now no doubt aware, your son Master Regulus Black has been kidnapped. At present he is safe and well. Please see attached a lock of his hair as confirmation.

No physical harm shall befall him, provided you follow the instructions I give you. Should you not, his death will not be swift.

Do not, for any reason, attempt to communicate with the Auror department or any private agency.

Before end of the week, secure 20 thousand galleons in old currency.

The galleons must be placed in a large cigar box, securely closed and wrapped in white paper. Remain at home and alert until midnight on Saturday and await further instructions.

Regulus signs the letter with an unreadable squiggle in place of a name, then twirls the silver quill around his fingers – it turns into a sharp, simple dagger. He cuts off a lock of his hair from behind an ear, where the disruption won’t be visible. Vanity, as always, present.

James stares dumbly as Regulus hands him the hair.

“Secure it and put it in the envelope with the letter.”

“Why?”

“She can see my magical signature in it. Will know that I’m alive and you’re not just trying to extort money for a corpse.”

“Huh,” James looks struck with something. “Clever. Never knew you could do that.” He takes the letter and reads through it, promptly choking on his tea. “20 thousand? Are you insane?”

Regulus doesn’t respond. Changes the dagger back into a fork (and James’ eyes get stuck on that, again), and goes back to his breakfast.

“That’s way too much money.”

“And how much were you going to ask for?”

“I don’t know. Five hundred?”

“Five… five hundred? That’s just insulting. Are you trying to be insulting?”

“What?”

“You think I’m worth five hundred galleons? The heir of the House of Back? Five hundred?”

Regulus is furious. Not only has he been kidnapped (abducted) by a moron: the moron thinks him worthless.

“Five hundred galleons is a lot of money.”

“Sure. If you’re poor,” Regulus argues, “you want five hundred? Here,” he takes the cheapest ring off his fingers and drops it on the table in front of James, “this is worth about double, pawn it and keep the change.”

James twirls the ring around his fingers. “Very pretty,” he smiles, slipping it on, rubbing the little leaf motif engraved in the silver, “you walk around with thousands worth of jewellery on you? Surprised nobody kidnapped you before.”

“I thought I was abducted.”

James looks downright delighted by the answer.

[olddirtybadfic]

this is becoming a strange recurrence

Spicy blueshipping haiku below the cut. Warning: it gets way too realistic about what experiences mpreg might entail.

-O-o-O-o-O-

Meowth loves round things.

James is pregnant and randy.

You can do the math.

-O-o-O-

Their white tomorrow:

Meowth is filling James up

Like a cream pastry.

-O-o-O-

Weezing's Sludge attack

Compares not to the might of

James, font of vomit.

-O-o-O-

James puked on himself.

"This shade is not my color;

Clashes with my hair."

-O-o-O-

The queen has cravings.

Chocolate-basted tuna.

Also beef jerky.

-O-o-O-

The queen's belly swells

Over the course of nine weeks.

Kittens incoming.

-O-o-O-

Wispy lightning bolts

Caress the queen's omphalos.

The cat nestles close.

-O-o-O-

Nourishing white pearls

Drip from James's tender teats.

The queen feeds their spawn.

-O-o-O-

can these even be called haiku anymore or are they a disgrace

[babeyun]

fool me three times... ✩ s.jy [m]

synopsis: you've come home late twice this week, and for the third time to be on jake's birthday is not as charming as they say. genre: established relationship, pwp (sigh...), angst/smut/tiny bit of fluff pairing: sim jaeyun x fem!reader word count: 3.3k rating: 18+. minors do not interact. warnings: swearing, angry?jake, mentions of jay (poor guy). petnames (baby..sir [free me!!!!]), mentions of voyeurism/3way. biting, spitting, a singular slap (below the belt), oral (f.rec), fingering (f.rec), squirting, degrading, no aftercare (but it's fine i promise) listen to: fallin' - dawn, pH-1 ; abyss - dawn ; meddle about - chase atlantic author's note: i wrote this on a whim, and i'm not entirely happy with it (smut is not my forte nor do i love writing it.) i'd originally planned to take one of my ideas out of the vault and write it in advance, but i got slammed with schoolwork. i am so, so tired as i write this note. happy birthday, jaeyun. i love u.

It's twelve-forty-two in the morning.

This is the third time this week that Jake finds himself sitting on the couch, alone in your shared apartment. He's turned all the lights off, legs crossed over one another as he checks his phone for the fifth time. Nothing.

He sighs inwardly, leaning further into the soft cushions of the couch. You'd picked this out together, and it was one of your favorite places to spend time together that wasn't your bedroom. The soft brown suede had seen the two of you in many situations – cuddling under a soft white blanket Jake's mom gave you for Christmas last year. Sharing a bowl of cereal because you were too lazy to get up and make your own, but you gladly stood up and refilled his bowl. Holding hands tightly when a scary scene came on the television, crashing on the couch after dancing around together to Fallin' by Dawn and pH-1.

Kissing like two desperate lovers, unable to even take your clothes off to fully feel each other's skin. This couch had seen you in every position imaginable, the cushion on the far right the usual place for your face if Jake was too excited to make it to the bedroom.

You were so busy these days. You hadn't had a date night in three weeks, hadn't had sex in two…and unfortunately – it's making him a little insane.

Recently…the couch had seen more and more of Jake, alone. Jake sitting alone, popcorn bowl in his lap as he waited for you to come home from work. Jake, laying down while wearing the oversized hoodie you'd worn the day before, engulfed in the soft grapefruit notes of your perfume. Jake, letting Layla up on the couch to snuggle with because he can't feel your warmth at that moment.

Jake, missing you.

He sighs again, flipping his phone over.

12:45AM.

No new messages from you, no missed calls. Just the soft sound of Abyss by Dawn.

Where have you gone? You were his best friend. His best friend wrapped gently in the sheets of his love, filled to the brim with his soft words and loving caresses. You were his best friend, his lover, his everything. He saw himself in you, his whole purpose was you.

"Shh, he's probably asleep." He hears your voice from the other side of the front door, before hearing you try to gently slide your key in the lock. His eyes widened, pressing pause on the song before bolting for the bedroom. He doesn't make it in time, the door opening and his ears picking up on a familiar laugh.

Jay.

"Jongseong, for the love of God." You grit, and Jake watches as the two of you carefully toe off your shoes, loads of bags in your hands as Jay snickers to himself, carefully tiptoeing to the kitchen in the dark. The hallway light illuminates the back of you, and you suddenly stiffen, lifting your head to meet Jake's eyes.

He scoffs inwardly, watching as you try to fumble with the lightswitch in the living room just as he slides into the bedroom, shutting the door behind him. He locks it, hearing you start an argument with Jay in the kitchen as you shut the front door.

Unfortunately, Jake only stews in his anger. He doesn't know why you're late today, but it seems Jay has your attention more than your boyfriend does. Your boyfriend of three years, pushed to the side the day before (and day of) his birthday for a friend you made through Jake.

Jake flips onto the bed, a frustrated groan from his lips as he hears the two of you rustling around in the kitchen. The fact that you haven't even come to the bedroom to let him know that you're home is even more infuriating, and Jake feels his throat start to burn as he holds back angry tears.

Jake had always been good at setting boundaries and putting feelings first, despite being somewhat of a more logical thinker. You were an incredibly emotional person, hidden behind layers of shitty relationships and hurtful friendships, was your tired heart trying to patch itself up. Jake knew that if it was him that did this – not texting you when he'd be home late, letting you agonize over your whereabouts, coming home with one of your friends in tow and giggling like they had some sort of secret…

You'd make a fucking scene.

But Jake can't bring himself to do that. Even in all his anger, his frustration…his hurt, he can't confront you like that. It's not fair, to either of you (or Jay, but who's talking about that guy right now? Not Jake.)

He takes a deep breath, feeling a tear slip down the side of his face. He wipes it away quickly, only standing up from the bed to unlock the door. He takes your hoodie off, the grapefruit perfume making his chest ache. He knows you could just be planning a surprise for him. He knows that, but his mind can't help but wonder as he pulls back the comforter.

Why three late nights, in one week? Why no messages, why no phone calls? You wouldn't even kiss him hello when you arrived, just a tired smile and a soft hey. Your hair was always in disarray, and he knew it was because you liked to drive with the windows down. He knew that.

Sighing, he slips under the covers, facing away from the door. He hears you laugh loudly, before hearing your soft footsteps make their way to the bedroom. He wipes at his eyes, feeling a few more tears trickle down his fingers as he hears the door open gently.

He doesn't turn to face you, instead choosing to squeeze his eyes shut when he hears you sigh gently.

"I know you're awake." You murmur, but he doesn't respond. He doesn't turn around, choosing to breathe through his mouth to hide the fact that your behavior drove him to tears. You click your tongue, and he hears the zipper of your pants. You're moving around, undressing from the pretty pink blouse and grey slacks he chose for you that morning. 

He pulls the covers up further, covering his bare shoulders before feeling your hand on the back of his neck. Your fingertips are warm, your thumb gently circling his pulse point. "Jake." "What?" He mutters, the bite of his tone not going unnoticed. You sigh, and he peels open one eye to look up at you. "What, Y/N?" He sees your eyes scan his face, before your hand on his neck gives a soft squeeze. "I love you." He doesn't like how quickly the knot in his stomach goes away at your words, or the way you can tell his cheeks and ears are tinging pink. He scoffs, closing his eye and moving from your touch. "I love you, too. Keep it down."

"Mmh." You hum in response, but he feels your hand card through his hair. He huffs, before feeling your lips press gently on his temple. "I miss you, my baby." You say against his skin, and pull away entirely. He hears you open his dresser drawer, and the rustling of his clothing being pulled onto your body. He opens his eyes to see you tug on a random shirt of his, pulling your hair out of the neckline before opening the door. 

"Y/N, where is your butter?!" Jay calls, and you quickly shut the door, scampering down the hall.

He can hear the two of you bickering before you groan frustratedly, and he can hear Jay say he's going to the store. You argue that you don't even really need the butter for the cake, but Jay's words take Jake by surprise.

"Maybe go spend some time with him while I'm out of here. You know, I love you because you're my friend, but you're really dense today. Sometimes your boyfriend just needs you."

You didn't reply, or at least Jake doesn't think you did as he hears the door open and close. He hears you groan, and he's out of bed before he can even realize it. He grabs the hoodie back off the top of the dresser, shoving his head through it before yanking the door open.

"Y/N." He calls from the threshold of the bedroom, and you poke your head out of the kitchen. Your eyes are wide, but he can see how tired you are by the bags under your eyes. You probably took it off during your overtime, you'd been doing that a lot lately.

He sighs, closing the bedroom door behind him as he walks towards the kitchen. You step out, shaking your head. "You can't go in there, Jake. I'm…we…" "I'm just going to get the butter for you." He rolls his eyes, pushing past and looking away from all the stuff on the counter – but not before catching a glimpse of baby blue frosting in a bag. There were egg cartons stacked neatly, and three gallons of milk. Too many bags of flour to count, and Jake opens the freezer to pull out the butter he'd put up there earlier.

He'd gone grocery shopping by himself, because you weren't able to get off work. He wasn't upset about it, but he remembers you liked to freeze the butter until you had to use it. He doesn't remember why, but the habit stuck with him.

Just like all of your other little habits.

Your eyes are wide as he slides it onto the island, before worming back out of the kitchen. He doesn't say anything to you, only slinking past your tired shoulders when you manage to grab his fingers. He stops in his tracks, sighing as you skirt around to face him. He looks down at you, a tense clench in his jaw as he moves his brows in query.

"Don't be mad." You breathe, both your hands now holding his wrist and fingers. Your eyes search his face, finding the anger in the twitch of his brows before he shakes his head. "I'm not. I'm just tired." "I'm tired too, but I'm not looking at you like that." Jake feels his head swim as he takes in the tinge of guilt in your voice. He knows you're trying to do something nice for him, even if you're shitty at keeping secrets. He knows you're not doing anything to hurt him, you just have a horrible way of executing things.

He appreciates you nonetheless, because he knows that you're trying your best. Your schedule is jam-packed – your days are long and frustrating, full of people that need your help constantly, full of you having to make decisions for everyone else.

Jake being someone who values quality time clashed with that. He remembers how he'd squeeze in seeing you during your lunch break when you first started dating, just to have a moment alone. He remembers even waking up early to drive to your old apartment and sit in your bedroom while you got ready for work, just for a chance to give you a good morning kiss.

He made time. You're making time.

"I'm sorry." You speak again, your hands squeezing his arm lightly. "Yeah?" He shakes his head, but you nod quickly, your hands floating to his face.

"I am, I'm sorry. I know I should be–" "Prove it." He cuts you off, his face just inches from yours. Your eyes are glued to his lips, before they flicker up to his. He furrows his eyebrows at you expectantly, your tongue wetting your own lips just slightly. "How?" "You know how." His response is curt, and you swallow hard. "...Can I kiss you?" He doesn't respond, opting to answer physically. His lips press to yours gently, hands snaking around your waist to pull you closer to him. He craved your presence, in any way he could have it. He feels you sigh into his mouth as his fingers slip under your shirt, pinching at the soft skin.

"Bedroom." You mumble against his lips, and he shakes his head. "Right here." His lips move down your jaw, before his teeth catch your earring, tugging it gently. You groan as his hands move under your sweatpants, palming at your ass as you struggle to speak. "Jay-" He growls against your neck, his teeth nipping at the skin before running his tongue over it. "I don't give a shit about Jay. We can give him a show if he wants to watch." 

He reconnects your lips, tongue sliding into your mouth as he moves the two of you back to the couch. His fingers push your sweatpants down as the back of your legs hit the cushion, and you look over at the door, seeing it slightly ajar and unlocked. "The door–" "Fuck the door." He groans, tugging your underwear down in one go. He pushes you gently back against the couch before kneeling in front of you, tugging the clothing off your bottom half before yanking you closer to him by your ankle. You yelp before feeling him bite at your inner thigh. "Jake!" "That's for being late on Monday." He mutters, before sinking his teeth into your other thigh, a whimper from your throat catching his attention. "That's for being late on Thursday." "I'm sorry, I was just–" "I don't want to hear it." He interrupts, shrugging. He lowers his head again, watching you brace yourself for the sharp pain of his teeth, smiling to himself before spitting on your pussy. You jolt, but can't say anything as he quickly drags his tongue through your slit. He laps at you like a dog, messily collecting your arousal on his tongue as you breathe heavily.

His nose bumps your clit as he avoids touching it with his tongue entirely, opting to thrust the wet muscle into your hole as you whine his name out desperately. "J-Jake, please, I'm sorry–" He pulls away, his lips and chin covered in your slick as he runs the tips of his cold fingers through your folds. "You know, you could've texted me."

You shudder as his thumb makes contact with your clit, the pressure light as he circles it. "I know, Jakey, I'm–" "Or called. I paid the phone bill, and I got the confirmation email. Your phone works." He interjects, nodding his head as he eases the tip of his middle finger into you, smiling to himself as your head lolls back. "I'm sorry." You breathe out, Jake's finger curling inside you to brush that spot that makes your eyes roll. He only hums in response, feeling you cover his hand in your arousal as he slowly adds another finger, relishing in the wet sound of your pussy against his hand. "You're going to prove it to me, right? Gonna cum all over my hand, right? That's all you're good for, anyway." His tone is condescending, making you clench around his fingers. His eyes widen, before a low chuckle slips through his lips. "You like that? Being nothing but a hole for me to use?" You whimper, hiding your face in your hands as your hips meet Jake's fingers, only for his hand to slip out and land a sharp smack against your clit. You gasp, your legs threatening to close as Jake bullies his shoulders between them, his fingers slipping back into you with practiced ease.

"You can't call, you can't text, and now you can't speak. Forgive me for thinking your brain would work for anything." He rolls his eyes, feeling his cheeks flush at his own words. The two of you had never explored this, only sweet nothings and soft praises expressed between you, even a soft slut thrown in if the night was especially raunchy.

"I'm sorry, Jake, I'm sorry." Your thighs are trembling on his shoulders, and he scoffs against your skin. "Yeah, yeah." 

He lowers his head, lips latching onto your swollen clit. His eyes flutter shut at the taste of you, his knees weak at the idea of having gone so long without it. Your fingers tangle in his hair as he curls his own upwards, the tug of yours making him moan into your wet cunt. Soft gasps of don't stop hitting his ears, and he knows he should be upset at you but it would take an entire army to pry him off you at that moment.

He feels you clamp down on his fingers, your back arching off the couch as he feels your release soak his face and hoodie, dripping down his fingers onto the carpet. He slurps at you eagerly, his fingers overstimulating you as you try to pull him away by his hair. "J-Jake, s'too much…" You trail off, not able to finish your sentence as he tongues at your clit with vigor, your thighs clamping shut around him. "One more, c'mon. One more, show me how sorry you are."

He hears you cry his name out softly, eyes looking up to see your head thrown back against the couch, chest moving up in shallow breaths. He kisses up your stomach, nipping as he moves up, his fingers never slowing their pace as he pushes your shirt up with his free hand, cool fingers palming at your chest. His fingers gently toy with your nipple, a soft groan from you as your thighs start to shake a bit harder.

"You're sorry, right?" He lifts himself to meet your face, your eyes glistening with unshed tears as you nod. "You'll call or text when you're going to be late, right, angel?" "Yes." You whisper as his lips ghost over yours. "Yes, what?" "Yes, sir." Your eyes flutter shut, and he presses a kiss to the corner of your mouth. "Open."

Your lips part with a pathetic whimper of his name, before he gracefully spits onto your tongue. His lips press to yours quickly, suppressing your moans as his fingers pick up their pace, feeling your release drip all over his hand and the couch. "I love you, okay? I just get worried." His mumbles are soft in comparison to the degrading words he'd said earlier, and you can't bring yourself to speak back as you nod against his lips. You kiss him back slowly, putting all your energy into it. "I'm sorry." "It's okay. Are you okay? Let me get a towel, okay?"

You shake your head, carding your fingers through his hair and holding him close. His fingers slip out of you, a dull ache between your thighs as he taps your knee. "Baby, c'mon." "Please." You murmur against his lips, and he feels a flustered smile taking over as he shakes his head. "Jay'll be back soon–"

"Oh, come on." Jay's voice rings through the air, and Jake looks up to see the guy covering his eyes as he runs into the kitchen. Jake's ears burn in embarrassment, only to feel you tug on the sleeve of his hoodie. "Please, Jakey." "Jay–" "You said you didn't care earlier. Why do you care now?" You pout, canting your hips against the tent in his shorts, watching his eyes flutter shut and his lip tucked between his teeth. "You're so–" "Can you guys please take it elsewhere?" Jay whines from the kitchen, and you snort. Jake sighs inwardly, awkwardly rooting around for your sweatpants before finding them just beneath him, entirely soaked.

"Fuck." He shoves the material up your legs anyway, before wrapping your legs around his waist, lifting you up carefully as Jay peeks out the kitchen. "I assume I'm in here alone for the rest of the night?" You smile at him over Jake's shoulder, "Unless you want to join."

Jake stops, looking over his shoulder at one of his oldest friends. Jay's face looks a bit conflicted, his brows furrowed but cheeks pink with embarrassment. Jake's throat clearing garners the older man's attention, a small smile on Jake's lips.

"You wouldn't say no to your best friend on his birthday, would you?"

BABEYUN © 2024. no translations, reposting or modifications are allowed. do not claim as your own. viewer discretion is advised. your media consumption is your responsibility.

[literaryvein-reblogs]

Writing Reference: A Historical Menu

Origin — Food — Drink

1900 — tacos, quiche, schwarma, pizza, osso bucco, paella, tuna, goulash, hamburger, mousse, borscht, grapefruit, éclair, chips, bouillabaisse, mayonnaise, ravioli, crêpes, consommé — Coca Cola, soda water, riesling

1800 — spaghetti, soufflé, bechamel, ice cream, kipper, chowder, sandwich, jam, meringue, hors d‘oeuvre, welsh rabbit — tequila, seltzer, whisky

1700 — avocado, paté, muffin, vanilla, mincemeat, pasta, salmagundi, yoghurt, kedgeree — gin, port, champagne, brandy, sherbet

1600 — omelette, litchi, tomato, curry, chocolate, banana, macaroni, caviar, pilav, anchovy, maize, potato, turkey, artichoke, scone — tea, sherry, coffee, sillabub

1500 — marchpane (marzipan), whiting, offal, melon, pineapple, mushroom, salmon, partridge

Middle English — venison, pheasant, crisp, cream, bacon, biscuit, oyster, toast, pastry, jelly, ham, veal, mustard, beef, mutton, brawn, sauce, potage, broth, herring, meat, cheese — muscatel, rhenish (rhine wine), claret, ale

Old English — cucumber, mussel, butter, fish, bread — beer, wine, water

The evolution of terms for food and drink is an interesting reflection of the history of cultural contact between English-speaking countries and the rest of the world (G. Hughes, 1988).

Source ⚜ Food History ⚜ Writing Notes ⚜ Writing Resources PDFs

[dionysianivy]

𝐎𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐫𝐚

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What is Ostara?

Ostara is a lesser sabbat that marks the official arrival of spring and takes place on the spring equinox, around March 20-21 in the Northern Hemisphere and September 20-23 in the Southern Hemisphere. It’s the moment when day and night are of equal length, symbolizing balance before the days begin to grow longer and light overcomes darkness. This is a time of renewal, fertility, and new beginnings, making it perfect for fresh starts and setting intentions for the season ahead.

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The Legend of Ostara

According to a legend, Ostara is celebrated in honor of the Germanic goddess of the dawn and spring. The story goes that she once found a bird injured by the cold of winter. To save it, she transformed it into a hare, but the hare retained its ability to lay eggs. As a sign of gratitude, the hare painted and gifted eggs to the goddess, which is why eggs remain a central symbol of Ostara today. (1883, H. Krebs)

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Goddess Eostre

Eostre, also known as Ostara, is the Germanic goddess of spring, fertility, and renewal. Her name is linked to the word "east" and the rising dawn, and some believe it means "Radiant Dawn." Eostre represents the spirit of spring and the return of fertility to the earth. Her arrival was traditionally celebrated with flowers, singing, bell ringing, and the lighting of new fires at dawn. She is often described as a beautiful young woman with flowers woven into her hair, accompanied by her consort and also her sacred animal, a hare. Sometimes he appears as a full-grown man, other times as a small rabbit cradled in her arms. Together, they bring eggs, a powerful symbol of the earth’s rebirth and fertility.

There isn’t much information about Eostre, but she is mentioned in the writings of an 8th-century monk, Venerable Bede. He recorded that the pagan Anglo-Saxons of medieval Northumbria held festivals in her honor during the month of April. Other than this, we don’t know much about how she was worshiped in ancient times. However, by the 19th century, she had become an important figure in German folklore, appearing in literature, paintings, and stories. She is often depicted as a youthful maiden adorned with flowers, symbolizing nature’s renewal after winter.

Some ancient festivals are said to have honored her with offerings of flowers, eggs, and feasts, welcoming the warmth and life she brings. Venerable Bede documented these traditions around the year 700 CE while traveling through Europe, recording pagan customs for the Catholic Church. The Church later attempted to shift the focus from Eostre to the resurrection of Jesus, but many ancient traditions remained deeply rooted. Eventually, instead of trying to erase them, the Church adapted and merged the two celebrations, renaming their spring festival “Easter” as a way to unite both traditions.

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The Symbolism of The Painted Eggs

Eggs have long been a symbol of fertility, renewal, and the emergence of new life. Many cultures have used painted eggs in their spring festivals, from ancient Egyptians and Persians to European pagans. In the context of Ostara, eggs represent the potential for new beginnings and the fertility of the land as it awakens from winter. Decorating eggs is a tradition that has continued for centuries, carrying the magic of transformation and the blessings of abundance for the coming season.

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Magic Correspondences

Planets: Mars

Season: Spring

Element: Air

Time of the Day: Dawn, Early Morning

Tarot: The High Priestess, The Emperor, Sevend of Wands, Justice

Colors: All pastel colors, yellow, green, pink, blue, brown

Herbs: Sorrel, Mint, Rosemary, Ginger, Irish Moss, Tansy, Woodruff, Wood Betony, Star Anise, Catnip

Fruits: Strawberries, Tangerine, Bananas, Lemon, Grapefruit, Apple, Orange, Mulberries, Kiwi

Vegetables: Artichokes, Asparagus, Carrots, Spring Onions, Garlic, Wild Nettles, Mushrooms

Crystals: Aquamarine, Jasper, Amethyst, Rose Quartz, Green Aventurine, Moonstone. Amazonite

Runes: Teiwaz, Ehwaz, Berkana

Trees: Birch, Rowan, Dogwood, Ash, Alder

Godesses: Eostre, Freyja, Aphrodite, Isis, Hecate, Demeter, Gaia, Athena, Astarte, Minerva, Cybele, The Morrigan

Gods: Mars, Ares, Apollo, Pan, Cernunnos, Tyr, Odin, Osiris, Dagda, Adonis

Dragon: Grael, Sairys

Flowers: Daffodil, Hyacinth, Daisy, Tulips, Clover, Crocus, Violet, Rose, Jasmine, Lilac, Honeysuckle

Animals: Hare, Rabbit, Chicks, Lamb, Butterfly, Robin, Bee, Snake. Deer, Wolf

Magical Powers: Balance, Renewal, Action, New Beginnings, Hope, New Possibilities, Fertility, Rebirth

Symbols: Rabbits, Eggs, Flowers, Bees, Birds and Nests, Butterflies, Flower Crowns, Seeds

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Activities to do:

🐰 Decorate your space with Ostara symbols like eggs, bunnies, baby chicks etc.

🐣 Start planting seeds in your garden.

🐰 Buy or pick fresh flowers and place them in your home.

🐣 Paint some eggs. Use simple colors or add sigils, runes, symbols or anything you want to attract.

🐰 If you have a farm or a garden, it's the perfect time to buy and raise baby chicks! <3

🐣 Enjoy a festive meal to celebrate both Ostara and Spring Equinox.

🐰 Do some painting or other creative activities.

🐣 Do a deep spring cleaning, you rearrange your furniture for a fresh start.

🐰 Clean up your garden.

🐣 Leave seeds in your garden for birds.

🐰 Spend time in nature and look for the first signs of spring.

🐣 Make a list of goals to accomplish before spring ends.

🐰 Burn some incense to cleanse your space.

🐣 Make special Ostara candles with seasonal colors or herbs.

🐰 Do a tarot, rune, or pendulum reading in the morning of Ostara.

🐣 Try an Ostara guided meditation to connect with the celebration.

🐰 Honor Goddess Eostre with offerings or prayers.

🐣 Make an Ostara magickal jar

🐰 Wear clothing or jewelry in Ostara colors.

🐣 Try new recipes, especially with eggs and carrots.

🐰 Drink some tea and relax.

🐣 Read about Ostara and its traditions.

🐰 Make a flower crown for yourself or a loved one.

🐣 Try colorful makeup inspired by spring.

🐰 Dye eggs naturally or try flower prints on them.

🐣 Make friendship bracelets and share them with your loved ones.

🐰 Spend time with animals and connect with their energy.

🐣 Host an Ostara picnic or dinner with friends or family.

🐰 Plant your dream garden or buy new flower seeds.

🐣 Try aromatherapy with fresh scents (spring flowers).

🐰 Plan an egg hunt for fun with friends or family.

🐣 Connect with deities associated with Ostara and spring.

🐰 Worship your deities and honor Goddess Eostre.

🐣 Paint your nails in pastel colors.

🐰 Decorate your altar with Ostara symbols and colorful ribbons.

🐣 Try new activities, change routines, and care for yourself!

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Food and Drinks:

Anything that has eggs! omelet, deviled eggs, stuffed eggs, carrot cake, braided bread, honey pastries, lamb, ham, fish, green vegetables, asparagus, goat cheese, sheep cheese, cow milk cheese, goat milk, sheep milk, cow milk, seasonal fruits, orange juice, tangerine juice, homemade carrot juice, dishes garnished with parsley, sweet egg tarts, muffins, carrot muffins, waffles, hot cross buns, herbal tea, mint, salads garnished with edible flowers, lemon, lemon bread, violet flower cake, lavender cake, brownies, preserves from last season, apples, yogurt, mozzarella, chocolate cake.

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useful sources: Wicca: A Modern Guide To Witchcraft & Magick; Encyclopedia of Witchcraft: The Complete A-Z for the Entire Magical World by Judika Illes

gifs credit: Pinterest

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