#hull pie

[kazz-brekker]

fire and blood spoilers for those not in the know, but i am curious if maybe the reason alyn of hull has a shaved head while his brother has long hair is because he inherited the velaryon silver hair

[rinmemesuoka]

leftover bits of fruit from other recipes can be used to flavor a simple syrup. they don't tell you this.

[jpitha]

Used to Humans

Lots of "HFY" and "Deathworlders" and "Humans are $Adjective" stories understandably talk about early days with humans in the galaxy. It's fun to think about how humans could be different from other sapient species and how the things that we do that are normal to us could be seen by others. Eventually though, everything gets explained and the galaxy moves on, right? What does it look like when everyone already knows about the wild things humans do.

****

Vic burst through the door into the lounge. "I've got it! If we can route the neutrino stream away fro-"

Resimar and Pel'im didn't look up from their card game. Many of the games humans brought into space are popular, but almost all pale in comparison to the humble deck of cards. The idea of pieces of laminated paper with numbers and symbols on them to play hundreds of different games was appealing across all sapient species in the galaxy. Resi and Pel were currently deep into a Pinochle tournament.

Without looking up at him, Pel'im says, "Nice work Vic, I'm sure it'll work great." He sighs and flicks his eyes up to Resi. "twenty five points." Resi makes a face, but flicks her ears, indicating agreement.

Vic looks at both of them, incredulous. "You don't want to know what I figured out?"

Resi puts down four cards. "Kings around."

Pel snorts. He takes a moment to move the cards in his hand to a slightly different orientation. He doesn't look up at Vic. "Vic. How long as humanity been in the Galaxy?"

"Uh, more than one hundred Earth years now?"

Pel nods. "Right. And in that time, how many planets did you destroy?"

Vic thinks for a moment and looks down at his pad. "On purpose, or by accident?"

"That's entirely his point, Vic!" Resi looks up at Vic while Pel fusses at his cards. "For the last hundred and something years, when something wild has happened in the galaxy, you go to the center and you find one or more humans, either cackling with laughter or covered in soot going 'I had no idea that was going to happen!' We're just used to it now." She frowns at the cards in her hand. "You usually clean up any messes you make, so go nuts, have fun. Tell us when it's over. Is this going to be like the 'Apple Pie' incident again?"

"Double Pinchole!" Pel throws down both jacks of diamonds and both queens of spades, triumphant "That's thirty points, and my win for this round.

Vic crosses his arms. "No, it won't be another Apple Pie. For one, I know more about your physiology, for two, HR has forbid me from the kitchen, and for three the captain says that it wasn't that big of a deal actually, and nobody was seriously hurt in the end."

Resi sighs and scoops up the cards, carefully arranging them and with her smaller than human hands very carefully shuffles them. Pel leans back and takes a sip of his tea, satisfied.

Vic stares at them, deflated. "Oh. Uh, okay then. I'll let you get back to your game. Who is winning?"

Resi snorts. "Pel currently, but the tournament is not over yet."

Pel leans back and makes a gesture like rolling their eyes. "It basically is."

Later that day, when the bulkhead doors slammed shut to prevent all the atmosphere from venting from the ten meter hole that appeared in the hull near Vic's workstation, Resimar wondered if she should have expressed more interest in what Vic was working on.

[presidenthades]

Congrats on you visit to comic con and I hope you passed a great time!!!! I read the last comment of Criston and I just got wondering about the childhood of all the kids and a question arose. Do Corlys and Viserys compete as the favorite grandpa, both seem as the type of wanting to be the favorite grandpa!!! And then great-grandpa to future King Elenar.

Here are some other posts about Grandpa Corlys and Grandpa Viserys in case those are of interest.

I think Corlys is one of those people who’s better at being a grandparent than a parent. He’s very tough on Laenor in S1 (and he’s even worse to the Hull boys in S2). Corlys has high expectations of his progeny so that they uphold his legacy and their house’s legacy.

In contrast, he has a soft spot for Lucerys. At first I think it’s because Corlys’s grandkids just need to be well-behaved cuties while they’re little, which is easy for them to do. When they get older, that might be when he gets tougher—but I also think the death of Corlys’s kids changes him a lot. His grief for Laenor and Laena drives him to the Stepstones again, and I imagine he regrets the way he treated them sometimes. So he might try not to repeat the same mistakes with his grandkids.

When the Velargirls are younger, it’s easy for Corlys to be an indulgent grandpa. Jace always strives to be the perfect heir that people expect, Luce is a cutie pie who reminds Corlys of his own kids when they were little, and Joff is…Joff. 😅 Corlys and Rhaenys make frequent trips to visit their granddaughters, and what kid doesn’t love getting tons of presents from their grandparents? I also imply in Compromise that the Velargirls periodically stay at Driftmark, like a sort of fun family vacation. If Corlys and Viserys are competing to be the favorite grandpa, Corlys is pretty confident he’s winning.

Viserys also thinks he’s winning, but that’s because he’s complacent from living in close proximity to his granddaughters on a daily basis. Of course he’s the favorite grandpa! He sees them almost every day! He also gives them lots of presents, but his strategy is something like “of course the girls will love these super expensive gowns, every girl loves gowns” and “let’s give the girls a bunch of sweets today, kids love sweets.”

But the Velargirls notice he treats his own kids very differently. Jace has definitely dealt with Aegon’s moods and daddy issues quite a bit. Luce is sometimes deliberately obtuse to familial tensions, but she registers it on a subconscious level. Joff is, as always, perspicacious beyond her age. So even though the girls enjoy being indulged by Viserys, they have this knowledge in the backs of their minds.

As for Elenar…I think it’d be hilarious if Otto somehow sneaked in and managed to be his favorite great-gramps.

[hempseeeeds]

Oat&Linseed Bread Mix

This is a dry Mix to create very dense Bread that somewhat resembles German style whole-grain rye-and-wheat-and-seeds breads in flavour and Texture.

It goes well as a Sandwich base for sliced Cheese such as young Gouda, or with Hummus, and can be reheated and Made nicely crispy in a bread slice Toaster, Up to a week after First baking it. It's also very filling, and while it's Not inherently gluten-free by Default, it can easily be Made gluten-free without changing any of the properties, by using certified-gluten-free Oats instead of "regular", unclean Oats, and being careful about the content of Spice Mixes.

The dry mixture keeps for months and is a good idea to have around for when you're going to bake Something unrelated, and want to get the most use out of having the oven on. Most people who have an electric oven in their kitchen/as Part of their electric stove, are aware that it's somewhat wasteful/inefficient to Run it Just for one meal, but Life is such that sometimes you DO want to bake a cake, or a pie, or a meat-roast, or oven-baked vegetables, or prepare convenience food such as frozen Pizza or IKEA balls, and it makes very little difference in Energy consumption if you Put in some oat buns at the Same time.

Get yourself one of those 10 Liter buckets that are made of thin-ish, cheap-ish food-safe plastic (Polypropylene) and come with a Lid of the same material that makes a watertight but not very pressure-stable Seal, and is stackable with other buckets of the Same size due to a lip/rim on the Lid. You can get them for free If you know who to ask, because they're the typical packaging that restaurant-quantities of Ketchup and Mayonnaise and Yoghurt and Cream and Applesauce and some types of Frying Fat come in, so most Small Restaurants both use them for internal storage of EVERYTHING, and discard several per week. (If you are neither a regular at a Restaurant, nor Friends or Family with a Restaurant worker, and/or If you are too shy to ask, you May be able to buy a suitable bucket that is filled with Popcorn, or one that is empty and meant to be filled with Dog chow or parrot seed or Chicken Feed Pellets, at a Feed Store where you can buy that Stuff by weight and bring your own Container.)

Then get your ingredients. You'll need 500g of thick-rolled Oats, 500g of Instant/thin-rolled Oats, 400g of coarsely-ground Linseed/flaxseed, 100g of Chia seeds, two teaspoonfuls of mild-curry-spice-mix, and three teaspoonfuls of sea salt. Throw all of these ingredients into your bucket, Close the Lid Well, and Mix thoroughly by shaking or turning the bucket over many times. Or alternatively, Mix thoroughly by stirring with a large spoon before closing the lid.

Variations include using all instant Oats instead of half-and-half, replacing Up to half of the Thick-rolled Oats with thick-rolled flakes of other grains such as wheat/spelt, replacing the Curry with another Spice mix (like a spicier Curry, or Tandoori, or paprika-and-chili, or Mediterranean Herbs, or Pumpkin-Spice), using really fancy pink Salt, or half a teaspoon of Potassium Chloride in addition to the three spoons of Salt, or adding some oily seeds, like de-hulled hempseeds or sunflower seeds, or pumpkinseeds, or chopped hazelnuts, or sesame, or a Combination of several different seeds/nuts, Up to total 200g (per 1kg of oat).

When you are ready to make oat buns alongside the other Thing you are going to bake, boil some water. Measure two Cups (500mL) of the dry mixture into a bowl, and add one Cup (250mL) of hot (boiling/almost-boiling) water. Mix thoroughly with a fork immediately after adding the water, then add a 2-3 tablespoons of Apple cider vinegar, and Mix thoroughly again. Then you can leave the mixture alone for a few minutes and do whatever needs to be done for the other Thing you're Baking, but it's important to Mix before it becomes hard to mix from the water being absorbed unevenly. Within 10 minutes or so, all the water will be absorbed into a VERY thick/Stiff dough, that is easiest to knead and shape If you get your Hand wet with water before touching it. The best shape for baking this bread is a round flat shape Like a thick Cookie roughly the size of an adult human's palm. Two Cups of dry mixture is enough for making about six of these buns, so you should divide the contents of the Bowl into six parts. If you Happen to have Silicone moulds for large Muffins or small pies, you can Just Put each Portion into one of those moulds and Press it flat (to a finger's width) with wet hands. If you don't have moulds available, shape the dough by Hand into flat palm-sized circles, and lay them on whatever nonstick surface (foil, ceramic, metal…)to bake on. Let the requirements of the other Thing you are baking, decide your Temperature for you. If the Heat is 180°C (356°F), then it's going to Take about 15 minutes to Bake the oat buns, and the hotter the Temperature, the shorter the time. They don't rise AT ALL, nor should they shrink unless they've been baking too Long. If you want to eat them right from the oven, you can Break them into pieces and Dip in Something. If you want to use them for Sandwiches, days later, you should use a serrated knife to cut the top and bottom halves apart.

[roguephenon]

IV: The Delightful Tale of Sector Z and the Last Soopreme Leader, Numbuh Three

Link has been reestablished. Now resuming trans—

ERROR. ERROR.

Re-calibrating…

The Big Super-Computer-ma-bob apologizes for this inconvenience.

Please enjoy this supplementary operation report while database is reconstructed.

:Accessing way-back mission archives:

Now loading kids next door mission:

Operation: T.E.A*

Terrible.

Evil.

Arises.

*Warning. System has tagged operation designation as a duplicate. SYSTEM ADMIN, please rectify…

many, many, years ago

In space, no one can hear you scream.

Unless you were on Kids Next Door Moonbase.

There? People could hear you screaming out the wazoo.

Why, there was so much screaming going on there; it was practically white noise for Global Command. If there ever was a moment when there wasn't the lively chatter of a buhmillion kids from all walks of life communing on the base to end all bases, then it was either winter holiday break or something was terribly, horribly wrong.

At the moment, it was barely Thanksgiving. And given how quiet the Moonbase currently was, it was safe to say the silence was due to the latter scenario.

I.e. something bad was going down.

In docking bay eleventeen, a gaggle of operatives stiffly patrolled the area. Their movements were almost robotic, and their once bright eyes were now dull and listless as they meandered about, attending to some command with nary a fuss.

"Come on, guys! Snap out of it!" came a muffled shout from a holding cell. A fist pounded against the metal door, frantic eyes glaring out the tiny peephole. "You gotta fight it!"

The guard of the door, a random cafeteria working armed with a SCAMP rifle, narrowed her eyes at the door. "Be…quiet…"

Her tone lacked agency. Devoid of any emotion.

The prisoner redoubled their efforts, the door trembling under their futile efforts. "I got injured operatives and scared cadets in here, you jerk!" His voice was littered with panicked urgency. "One of them needs an inhaler! ASA-NOW!"

The cafeteria guard ignored him, focusing on her single-minded directive.

Suddenly, the docking bay lit up as a single SCAMPER hovered up to the loading terminal. Nearby, an out of place DOH-DOH Squad officer jerkily directed a gaggle science nerds to form up around the galley plank.

All children present crowded around the ship, the sights of their rifles steady against the hull's structural weak points.

The door to the SCAMPER hissed open, weapons humming madly in response.

"Don't…move," the kid in charge demanded of the unknown pilot. He glared. "State…your…business."

From the bowels of the ship, an accented voice cried, "Pizza delivery!"

"We did not order a…" the guard blinked, everyone looking down confused as a pizza box was chucked in the middle of their group. "…pizza?"

The cardboard lid slowly opened on its own, an angel choir sounding off as they all bore witness to the golden glory of the fabled Ninety-Nine Cheese New York Style Pizza.

Even in their mind-addled stated state, all operatives present couldn't stop their mouths from salivating.

Steam rose from the pie's crust as the cheese atop it began to boil and bubble.

SPLOOOOOOOSH!

The uncut, medium-sized pie exploded in a gooey burst of Parmesan, Asiago, and mozzarella. The force blew back all caught unaware, their bodies glued and trapped to nearby surfaces by hot, sticky cheese.

The way clear, a small figure cockily ambled out of the scamper. An African-American boy strutted onto the Moonbase proper, dressed in a worn, orange jumpsuit, the torso folded down to reveal the stretchy white jersey baggy against his chest. He kicked the toes of his Nike sneakers against the deck, pumping up his kicks for the inevitable butt-whooping he was about to dish out.

Jerome Kingsly used the nozzle of his blaster to adjust his shades, combing through his messy fro whilst his lips curled into a self-assured smirk. "Down in Brooklyn, we call that the Nine-Nine Special."

"Numbuh Nine-Nine! Over here!"

WARNING. This a long chapter. Please give yourself breaks :3

[fcukfodmap]

Day 42: Low-FODMAP Gluten-Free Strawberry-Custard Pie

This recipe came together because another recipe completely fell apart. I tried to make these graham-cracker waffle things for a whole s'mores situation, but, turns out, baked goods made from gluten-free flour completely lack coherence, and I couldn't get them out of the waffle iron intact. So instead of graham-cracker waffles, I had graham cracker crumbs. So let's turn that frown upside down and make pie with a graham-cracker crust!

Low-FODMAP Gluten-Free Strawberry-Custard Pie

Ersatz Graham Cracker Crust

1 c gluten-free flour

1/4 c brown sugar

1/2 tsp baking soda

pinch of salt and cinnamon

4 tbsp melted lactose-free butter

2 tbsp lactose-free milk

1/4 c maple syrup

1 tbsp vanilla extract

For the crust: 6 tbsp melted lactose-free butter

Mix together the dry ingredients into a bowl, then pour in the wet ingredients except for the 6 tbsp of melted butter for the crust. Stir until a dough forms, and let sit for 5 minutes. You could either pour this into a waffle iron or pan fry them like pancakes, cooking until the waffle/cakes have a nice brown crust. Let cool for a bit, then break up and pulse in a food processor until crumby. You should have about 1 1/2 c crumbs.

Melt 6 tbsp lactose free butter, and mix with the crumbs. Press into a deep dish pie pan while still warm, and put into fridge to set up. Meanwhile, make:

Vegan Custard

1 1/2 c plant milk such as almond or oat

2/3 c coconut milk

1/2 c cornstarch

1/3 c sugar

1 tsp vanilla extract

1/8 tsp turmeric

Off-heat, mix together everything but the turmeric in a sauce pan; whisk out the lumps. Over medium heat, cook stirring constantly until the custard thickens, 2-5 minutes. Turn off heat and keep stirring for another minute to keep it from clumping.

Let it cool for 5-10 minutes, then stir in the turmeric (which is for color, because the pudding is otherwise an unpleasant gray.) Spread custard over the graham cracker crust, and put back in the fridge. Meanwhile, make:

Strawberry Pie Glaze

1 pkg strawberry flavored Junket Danish Dessert

1 3/4 c water

1 lb strawberries, hulled and cut into quarters

Mix the Junket packet with the water, and cook over medium heat until boiling, stirring often. Boil for 1 minute, stirring constantly. Let cool for 10-15 minutes. Arrange strawberries in an even layer over the custard, then pour the pie glaze over the strawberries. Put back in the fridge to set up.

Once the pie sets up, serve with vegan whipped cream.

So this whole project was ridiculous from beginning to end, but the results were pretty good! I liked the plant-milk custard, especially the hint of coconut from the coconut milk. I thought it paired well with the fruit, which was the sweetest thing in the pie. I like my pies not very sweet, so that was perfect. I could have used less butter in the graham cracker crust because it ended up being a little hard. It could also use a little ginger and cinnamon in the ersatz graham cracker crumbs. But really, no complaints.

Even though there was some dairy in the crust -- a little milk and some butter -- I decided I was going to make the filling vegan? Honestly, I have no idea why I committed to that, but you could easily make this recipe 100% vegan by using shortening and a plant milk in the crust instead. I had a bunch of plant milks and vegan whipped cream to use up, so that was that.

I'm not sure how widely available Junket Danish Dessert is. My Scandinavian grandparents used it often as both pie glaze and as a pudding. I've always used it as a vegetarian option instead of Jello, because Junket is thickened with tapioca starch not gelatin. In fact, you can usually find Junket by the Jello in the grocery store.

So! Pretty silly, but a pleasant way to spend an afternoon.

Evergreen disclaimer: I am no dietician. I'm doing my best to minimize FODMAPs in my diet, but it's possible for me to be misinformed or mistaken about various ingredients.

[s1v0n1]

"Southern Belle" kirishima pt.1

an: ok so i was raised southern and I'm a country girl (no not THAT kind of country girl- no homophobia or any of that shit) but i realized with every self insert fanfic or one-shot I've read never had any of that in it. So I'm changing that!

He had met you at a farmers market, cus you know our boy shops local and loves making friends. Usually, once or twice a week, you take your spare veggies that you can't eat by yourself and sell them, this week you had far too many hull peas come up so you set up shop. It had been pretty good today, hull peas can be eaten but a lot of people use them as seeds for the fall season. Seeing as it was the butt end of October, people were taking all they could get, but don't get it twisted, you had other stuff. You always had way too much corn and tomatoes left over at the end of the week, you could only eat so much of the same stuff over and over.

A lot was sold, but there was still enough for another day so you kept the sign up as you packed up. The sun was setting and other vendors carried their products off, waving and bidding you a good night.

"Jeez, almost sold out of those purple things?" You heard a kind voice after setting a box of tomatoes in your trunk. "The hull peas? Nah I got way more at home, tryna get 'em gone b'fore they rot". He took a couple in his hand and grabbed a small plastic bag from the stall you were closing up. "How much for five?" you looked up, praying to God he wasn't gonna use his card. "Two fifty, but I'm only takin cash right now, my card reader is already packed up. I'll be here tomorrow mornin' if cards all ya got" "Oh- I got a five, you can keep the change." You looked at him for a second, you could use that for a moon pie on the way home- why not. "Alright, sounds good", he hands you the five and smiles. Shoot- he's pretty, "my name's y/n, I'll be here tomorrow if ya need anythin' else" "haven't had fresh corn in a while, the canned stuff is getting expensive too, could you same me some? Same time tomorrow night?" Oh Lord. "How many you want?" "2 or 3, probably cook some for supper and save the rest" "seeya then" you smiled and closed your trunk.

The sun was gone and the fireflies were out and about in the garden. You pulled into the drive and unpacked for the night. The farm dogs buzzed around your feet as you carried everything in, trying not to trip. The night was normal, some supper, feeding the dogs and a good night's sleep all by 9 o'clock. But he was on your mind, no one around here had bright hair like his, you'd never seen him before and this was no tourist stop, you lived in rural-small-town-middle-of-nowhere, so maybe he was kin to someone round here. You weren't sure, but he was definitely a city boy, the kind of boy your grandpa would call a city-slicker, but you were curious nonetheless.

[ginnyw-potter]

Can we have a little (or big) sneak peek of Not your captain please:D?

Yeah sure!! I've been really going back and forth on this fic... thinking up some elaborate plot and then realising that's not what I want to write... anyway...

****

She brought something to eat this time, it felt only right for her to return the favour. She brought some fruits and pie. She watched him as he worked on the hull of the ship, painting the rest of it.

She handed him a grape, leaning on the railing as she watched. “Were you ever afraid of me?”

“Still am,” he responded, not looking back up from the hull. The corners of his mouth quirked upward. “Before I properly met you, Seamus told me how you work. Who you go after…” He glanced up at her. “You’re not evil.”

“Says who?” She looked at him teasingly.

He breathed in slowly, thinking about it. “I’ve never seen you be unreasonable. If a bit… aggressive.”

“You can’t be a pirate and not be aggressive,” she responded.

He hummed in agreement. His brow furrowed as he painted. “Can’t get this bloody part…”

She walked off the ship and onto the dock. She looked at it. “That needs a woman’s hand.” She plucked the brush out of Harry’s hand and took up just a little paint. She wedged it into the crevice Harry had been struggling with. Paying close attention, she managed to get it painted.

“Not bad,” Harry commented, taking the brush back up. “I think your skills are wasted as a Captain.”

[constantvigilante]

I can't believe I've never looked up the bran pie before, but I was looking at the description this time and wondering how they could fit so many presents in it and how messy they got! The Murray tradition is obviously a little different from the video - they'd never do anything like fortune telling. But the pie being a tub makes a lot more sense.

[sapphire-writes]

addam of hull is so sweetie pie he just seems like a lovely young man

I AGREE he is such a softie 😭😭 he’s just so happy to be involved and with seasmoke I love him

[sense8-sonder]

I made a strawberry pie for the first time today and I’m very proud of it!

Recipe under read more.

Strawberry Pie Recipe

Ingredients

* 1 quart fresh strawberries, hulled

* 1 (9 inch) pie crust, baked

* 1 cup white sugar

* 3 tablespoons cornstarch

* ¾ cup water

1. Arrange 1/2 of strawberries in baked pastry shell (I cut mine in half and placed them cut-side-down). Place remaining strawberries in a medium saucepan (I used a potato masher to roughly “dice” them).

2. Add sugar to the strawberries in the saucepan; place over medium heat and bring to a boil, stirring frequently.

3. Whisk cornstarch and water together in a small bowl. Gradually stir cornstarch mixture into boiling strawberry mixture. Reduce heat and simmer mixture until thickened, about 10-15 minutes, stirring constantly.

4. Pour cooked strawberry mixture over berries in pastry shell. (I don’t like too much of the syrup, so I layered mine with additional sliced strawberries; 3 layers total.)

5. Decorate as desired. I used super thin slices of strawberries in a star pattern and then some strawberry roses on top.

6. Refrigerate until chilled and set, at least 3 hours.

7. Serve cold with whipped cream!

[vicwrites-and-acts]

WIP: TEMPUS ↪➡️

Chapter One | Sample | full first chapter.

▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃

EARTH SHOULD BE nothing more than a long, forgotten memory; a recollection of childhood dreams, nostalgia so real it makes your stomach twist and your heart ache with a million regrets. Cake, late night TV, screaming with her bestie about something irrelevant, her parents. It's all been taken from her. Stolen, really. The Nightwalker virus destroyed everything, and left her no choice but to hurtle through space at precisely 34 kilometers per second. 

Eris Matthews tries to hold onto her memories from home. The scent of her mother baking her famous sweet and savory apple pie, her ridiculously blown out of proportion nagging about wearing sunscreen, her smile whenever Eris and Draven would do something exceptionally funny. Her father's ridiculous oversized sweaters that he insisted he had to wear every morning, while having a cup of coffee. Draven's fanatical approach to theater, and the warm summer nights huddled around the bonfire near the ocean…

God, it's the little things she never fathomed she'd miss.

Being confined to the cargo hold doesn't exactly help, either. The walls remind her of her father's latest project car, being held together by sheer luck. Framework's damaged as if someone had taken a hammer and wailed on it near the fender, tried to fix it with insulating foam sealant, before realizing halfway through it doesn't work. If you've never had to scrape foam out of fiddly car parts, you're the lucky one. Eris and her dad worked tirelessly that summer. This? Entirely different. This is life or death, and someone didn't even bother building it correctly.

Yeah, life totally sucks. 

Eris isn't supposed to be here. She's an unauthorized person aboard the Exodus; a crazily, reckless, stowaway mission with one of the only people she trusts. Her best friend, Cashmere Moni. Okay, okay. I know what you're thinking. I didn't have a choice, alright? There hadn't been enough time. The ship was only built with four people I'm mind, not six. However, if they'd stayed behind on Earth, they would have never made it. Eris was not going to let that happen. It hadn't been an easy choice, mind, but her conscience is very clear. 

Incessant beeping comes from the hull, dull and distorted like broken wires on top of an antenna, rips Eris out of her thoughts. She knows what it means. The atmosphere is vastly approaching at an alarming rate. Damn it. Eris reaches her hand out toward Cashmere, but she's too late. Turbulence hits hard, sending the two of them careening into the nearest wall. Eris clenches her jaw to keep from screaming, blood pours from her nose, and she's pretty sure the force of the impact blacked her eye on principle. Shocking pain explodes from behind her eyelids. Yep, definitely a black eye, Eris thinks, dazed, stumbling backwards and barely catching Cashmere as she crashed into her, sending them both towards the door. 

And silence. 

Well, mostly. The crash had dimmed Eris' hearing a little. A distant voice echoes throughout her skull, making her feel pretty confident that the ship's computer informed them the Exodus is stabilizing. Oxygen level at a hundred percent. The planet is survivable; like Rhys had promised. A breath of utter relief passes through her lips, closing her eyes briefly to get rid of dark spots threatening her vision; feeling like a million tiny dragons are waging war inside her brain.

"What do you.. wanna bet Rhys forgets.. to.. to open Cargo?" Eris says, blinking, giving Cashmere a lopsided smile. Her speech slurred, thanks to the possible concussion. 

"How 'bout I bet you two of your famous crunchwraps that you're right?" Cash winks, crossing her arms over her chest. 

"Deal." 

Rhys Grey is single handedly the most forgetful person to ever exist, but Eris owes him her life. He'd shown up to warn her. Only a select few, higher ups mainly, were chosen to go to the Odyssey; the space station that would lead civilization towards their new planet. Without him, her fate would have been a long black abyss of an infected Earth. She shivers. 

Her family had been sick for days. There wasn't enough knowledge about the virus, which later the CDC coined as the Nightwalker virus. Yesterday, her family woke with a thirst for blood, red-rimmed, lifeless eyes that pierced into her soul. Their distorted voices begged Eris to join them. Her brother, Draven, promised to end her puny mortal existence swiftly; no pain, he swore. Her mother was the loudest. Telling her life would be much easier if she could feel what they felt. Which was nothing.

The virus was unlike anything the newscasts released. 

It was a game changer. Something Eris tried to tell Rhys' parents, because if she could just get someone to listen, then maybe, maybe, she could have an opportunity to save her family. Nobody would listen. Sherry and Dakota Grey clammed up, kicked them off the ship, and if Rhys hadn't disobeyed them.. Well, the only future Eris and Cashmere would've had is a one-way ticket to stale bread, a half-life existence, struggling from one place to another, and barricading themselves in at night to avoid the vampiric shells of humanity. 

The sound of metal grinding into gear brings Eris out of her miserable reverie, bringing her to share an anxious look with Cashmere, praying against all that's left that Rhys is the one who opened it. She doesn't even want to think about how his parents would react to seeing them here. Her heart thumps wildly inside her chest, leg bouncing erratically where she sways in place; again, thank you possible concussion. 

An equally anxious Rhys greets them, standing at the edge of the platform, glancing over his shoulder every few seconds. That does little to console Eris. Despite that, she's the first one out of cargo, stumbling into Rhys and throwing her arms around his neck.

"Thank God," Eris breathes, voice catching in her throat as she takes in the frozen wasteland over his shoulder. "Um, Rhys –" 

Civilization is nowhere to be seen. A purple haze glitters from the sun, transforming the snow-covered trees, and the icicles dangling from every branch into a soft lilac. A frozen forest stretching for seemingly miles with a thick blanket of ice covering the only path. Eris draws in a breath. It's breathtaking. She slowly removes her arms from around Rhys' neck, almost in a daze, before taking a miniscule step backwards. Wrong. An equally mesmerized Cashmere steps beside her, grinning, but Eris can't find herself feeling much joy at all. It's not right. Where is everyone? 

She longs to feel the ice against her skin like blue flames nipping against the wind, but the previous horrors of a long, forgotten Earth has taught her to look beyond the veil of illusion. What the hell are they going to do now? 

"Uh uh, no way girl," Cashmere says, sending Eris a pointed look. "I've seen that look plenty of times to know what you're thinkin'. No. 'Live better,' that's what you said, right?" 

Eris grimaces. Cash is right, technically, but the entire point of the mission was to blend beneath the cracks. Disappear into the crowd like they were meant to be here all along. This isn't the plan. A Tundra, where nothing will ever melt if it's anything like Earth; pristine, open, possibly deadly… There's nowhere to hide out here. 

"Look, my parents won't stay gone forever. Let's just explain it to them and.." 

"No. Absolutely not," Eris replies adamantly, shaking her head repeatedly to drive her point across. "Nope. Your parents would ship us back into Nightwalker hell. Don't know bout y'all, but I'm not going back there." 

It's a weak argument. A way to undermine them in hopes they'll just let it go, without having to go over it again. It's insane. She doesn't even know why Rhys would suggest that option. The thought of having to explain herself to a flabbergasted, possibly angry Sherry and Dakota, how she and Cash disregarded their rules and wound up here anyway? No thanks. 

Rhys clears his throat to capture Eris' attention, and she almost wishes she hadn't looked over at him. She groans. Of course. The damn look. His face morphs into despondence, and he pouts his lip, making it quiver for extra effect. The warm blue eyes pierce into hers, turning sad, almost pleading. 

A puppy. A ridiculous, oversized puppy, but one nonetheless. 

She averts her gaze. It's like the two were children again, sitting at a desk in a stuffy arts classroom. Eris had her 'special' purple crayon in front of her. She'd believed for the longest time it had special powers, magical ones. Mrs. Crandall encouraged sharing. Eris did not. She'd never had to, not even with Draven. 

Rhys had really wanted her purple crayon. He'd been coloring some fancy fire-breathing dragon, and wanted to blend the shade of purple and orange to make the breath. A cool concept, really, if he'd wanted to ask anyone else. It's silly. How utterly defensive Eris had become over a normal crayon, but she'd been vehemently against giving it to him. He looked at her, then, raising his eyebrows dramatically to make them larger, jutting out his bottom lip and giving her his best depressed look. 

Eris groans. It's something she should have seen coming a mile away, and yet he always manages to catch her completely off guard. Great. She sighs and peels her gaze back towards them, trying to cover her ever-growing smile. 

"Fine," she says, giving them a faux unamused look, before continuing, "but if they hurdle all three of us back to Earth, I will say I told you so."

They trek in silence. The sun will be going down any minute now, and they're no closer to finding Rhys' parents. Go back. Her brain is at war with itself; On one hand, going back to the ship would make this one hundred percent easier, but on the other hand, she'd be letting Rhys and Cash down. It's impossible to see much beauty with these thoughts swarming her brain. Even if she'd like to be lost in her surroundings, like Rhys and Cash were. 

Eris brushes stray hair from her freezing cheeks, shivering at the cold air. It had almost felt warm. When she'd first stepped off the platform back at the ship, and now it feels as if she'd stepped into a gigantic chest freezer. She'd done that once. On accident, Draven had locked her in it, and nearly forgot about her for five minutes. If only he were here now.

She shakes her head. It's hard not to dwell on the past, on Draven and her parents; hell, even the difference in air quality here. Endless possibilities. Variations of different levels of bad, depending on the situation. 

A sickening crunch echoes below Eris' feet, bouncing off the trees. Horror washes over her; a nameless dread infiltrates her body like a snake ready to crush his prey. Heart pounding. If she moves, she'll fall. If she doesn't, maybe it'll give her friends the time they'll need. Now or never. 

"Slowly move back the way we came," she orders, shakily. "Now." 

Her eyes continuously dart towards the spider web-like cracks increasingly at an alarming rate, and back towards her friends. 

Breathe. 

What would mom do? 

What would Draven do? 

The last question makes her cringe. Draven would be just as useless as her in this situation. Focus. 

"Eris…" 

She raises her hand to silence their worried prodding, wildly gesturing for them to just do as she asked them. Now isn't the time for them to doubt her. If she gave in to her own fear, threatening to crush her beneath its weight, then they would all die. She won't let that happen. Rhys saved her life, and now it was time to repay him with hers. 

One second. That's all it took for her to free-fall through the ice. Rigid water engulfs Eris, entering her open mouth, and muffling her panicked shrieks. The worried shouts from her friends go mainly unnoticed. Her lungs feel like they're on fire. She kicks her legs wildly, arms desperately reaching upwards before her fist connects with a solid block of ice. 

The shouts above her cease. All that's left is a long, jagged silence. 

[griseldabanks]

Taking an open tag from @dairogo to share a snippet of a blorbo nobody else knows from a WIP. No one ever seems to ask about The Arcblade when I do ask games and such for my original writing, but I honestly think it has some of my very best character introductions. For example:

“Drop your weapon!” a man with tassels on his shoulders cried. “Step away from-“ With a sudden roar of wind, a dark shadow slid across the intersection. Most of the soldiers gaped upward in surprise, but Aiden just smiled. A tiny platform, barely wide enough for one man to stand on, dropped down next to him, swinging on chains. “Time to go, my dear,” Aiden said, grabbing Sheya around the waist with his frozen arm and crushing her against his side. He stepped onto the little platform, then kicked the switch that started the pulley system. As they swiftly began to ascend, several of the soldiers began firing up at them. Most of the bullets fell short—one crashing through a window of a nearby house, another turning a chimney into an icy stalagmite. A bullet hit the platform, knocking off the corner and making the entire platform sway dangerously. Sheya cried out and gripped his shirt tightly, but Aiden just looped his sword-arm around one chain and looked critically at the ship floating above him. The bright red hull was scratched and dented in places, the holes it had sustained in the last battle patched somewhat haphazardly with pieces of scrap metal that Piper had found. It was sound, but not very nice to look at. Once they bought some more levinine, they’d have to see about a fresh coat of paint. On the deck of the ship, Den was rushing about, preparing the cannons. Aiden hopped off the platform as it rose up into the rigging, letting go of Sheya as soon as they landed on the deck. Sheathing his sword, Aiden took the stairs up to the poop deck in two bounds. “Cast off, Bertie! Get us out of here!” “Aye, Captain.” Sheya, who’d followed close on his heels despite the limp her frozen foot caused, let out a screech that probably could have been heard all the way down on the ground. Aiden whirled around, hand on his hilt again, but found her pointing with a trembling hand at the helmsman. Aiden realized belatedly that he probably should have warned her, but there had been no time with the pursuit. “Goodness gracious me.” “Just keep flying,” Aiden said, peeking down over the side of the boat as they soared over the roofs below. “Sheya, this is my first mate, Bertrand Thrisk. Bertie, meet Sheya.” He glanced at Sheya, who looked like she might pass out. Typical nobleman’s daughter. “A pleasure to make your acquaintance, my lady,” Bertie said with a slight bow, pressing a hand against his finely embroidered doublet. Sheya looked faintly disgusted and made no reply, which she really had no reason for. Bertie’s attire was a little outdated—doublet and hose, with lots of lace at the cuffs and a stupid little hat that looked like someone had mashed a meat pie onto his head and left it there—but everything was meticulously cleaned and cared for. He was perfectly ordinary—except, of course, that Bertrand Thrisk was a walking, talking skeleton.

Tagging anyone else who is proud of the way they introduced a character in their WIP.

[horizon-verizon]

[Was Part of a Previous Reblog]

This is what Gyldayn, the writer of Fire and Blood and its sections about the Dance says about the rumors and belief of Daemon and Nettles’ relationship:

Though the years had thickened the body that had been so lithe and lissome, Prince Daemon remained in her thrall, and called upon her every evening…with Queen Rhaenyra’s apparent blessing. “Let Daemon slake his hungers where he will,” she is reported to have said, “and we shall do the same.” (Septon Eustace suggests somewhat waspishly that Her Grace’s own hungers were slaked largely with sweetmeats, cakes, and lamprey pie, as Rhaenyra grew ever more stout during her days in King’s Landing.)

(Fire and Blood; “Rhaenyra Triumphant”)  

–AND–

How much credence can we give the fool’s testimony? Nettles was no more than ten-and-seven [17], Prince Daemon nine-and-forty [49], yet the power young maidens exert over older men is well-known. Daemon Targaryen was not a faithful consort to the queen, we know. Even our normally reticent Septon Eustace writes of his nightly visits to Lady Mysaria, whose bed he oft shared whilst at court…with the queen’s blessing, purportedly. Nor should it be forgotten that during his youth, every brothel keeper in King’s Landing knew that Lord Flea Bottom took an especial delight in maidens, and kept aside the youngest, prettiest, and more innocent of their new girls for him to deflower.

The girl Nettles was young, beyond a doubt (though perhaps not as young as those the prince had debauched in his youth), but it seems doubtful that she was a true maiden. Growing up homeless, motherless, and penniless on the streets of Spicetown and Hull, she would most likely have surrendered her innocence not long after her first flowering (if not before), in return for half a groat or a crust of bread. And the sheep she fed to Sheepstealer to bind him to her…how would she have come by those, if not by lifting her skirts for some shepherd? Nor could Netty truly be called pretty. “A skinny brown girl on a skinny brown dragon,” writes Munkun in his True Telling (though he never saw her). Septon Eustace says her teeth were crooked, her nose scarred where it had once been slit for thieving. Hardly a likely paramour for a prince, one would think.

(Fire and Blood; “Rhaenyra Triumphant”)

The passages are rife with misogyny and dismissals or ignorance of how Daemon and Rhaenyra might have lived together on Dragonstone for years without there ever having been evidence of Daemon skipping around the fishing villages around Dragonstone or going to Spicetown/Hull for some sexy fun times. And how that would have changed after Rhaenyra lost her sons, was betrayed by the dragonseeds Ulf the White and Hugh the Hammer, King’s Landing erupting against her, so on so forth.

Daemon’s Reputation vs His Life Away From King’s Landing

The people who Gyldayn refers to–“every brothel keeper in King’s Landing”–haven’t seen  the man in years. What do they know about him now? (Again, no evidence or suggestion that he went away to have sex with other women before Rhaenyra took King’s Landing).

How do we know that Daemon didn’t like Rhaenyra’s shape?

There are so many assumptions being made here without a full and comparative element.

And how much power does a young peasant girl really have over Daemon–of all people–instead of the other way round?!

Nettles

Nettles, from what little we know of her, seems very practical, patient, and brave. And if she did do sex work, then it was clearly acts of self preservation. But it seems like Gyldayn is going off of the belief that the lack of virginity is not an attractive quality–he goes on to list all the ways how Nettles couldn’t possibly be attractive to Daemon based more on traditional ideals of Westerosi feminine beauty. It serves to yes lay Daemon off of infidelity, but does it by making Nettles undesirable period.

Being alone for a while–thus showing how resourceful she is–why would Nettles risk self-preservation to mess with the person who’s allowing her to roam and prove herself by fighting for her? If Nettles becomes a sort of aide to Rhaenyra, then the problem she presents to Rhaenyra and the Targ’s power can be morphed into her being a Targ agent.

It’s in Nettles’ best interest to be on Rhaenyra’s best side, obey her, and to make herself useful, which would be another point of her and Daemon going to find and confront Aemond together.

Prince Daemon himself would take Caraxes to the Trident, together with the girl Nettles and Sheepstealer, to find Prince Aemond and Vhagar and put an end to them. Ulf White and Hard Hugh Hammer would fly to Tumbleton, some fifty leagues southwest of King’s Landing, the last leal stronghold between Lord Hightower and the city, to assist in the defense of the town and castle and destroy Prince Daeron and Tessarion.

(Fire and Blood; “Rhaenyra Triumphant”)

This is an opportunity that most in Nettles’ position wouldn’t smartly give up and I do not think she was as stupid or swaggery as the two treacherous dragonseeds. I think she’d be what some people call “humble”, but is really her choosing not to rock any more boats than she needs to and prioritizing survival.

(Digression: But I would also say that this may not have been the best decision on Rhaenyra’s part: Tumbleton has the temptations of luxury and power that Maidenpool, would not and there was no one to temper Hugh the Hammer. Maybe instead send Hugh the Hammer with Daemon after Aemond and Nettles with the other drunk Ulf to Daeron, but again Rhaenyra seemed out of it.)

Rhaenyra

Mysaria was not a virgin or “beautiful” anymore by Gyldayn’s/Septon Eustace’s standards yet they ascertain that Daemon was attracted to her enough to have sex with her. Let’s say that they did get into a sexual relationship. By their own telling, Rhaenyra herself was okay with it.

And that would be plausible after I’ve thought about it for q while and read a few other persons’ posts that Rhaenyra wanted to be left alone with her grief, forestall further pregnancies, focus on winning and putting down troubles, etc. Her paranoia would have gotten worse after the Tumbleton betrayals and Daemon being out of her sight. She could have also allowed Daemon messing w/Mysaria because Mysaria truly has nothing to offer Daemon anymore anyway.

It would be the same with her if they didn’t have a sexual relationship. Here, Rhaenyra against just wants to be left alone as much as possible. Mysaria may or may not be resentful of Daemon.

Mysaria

Now Mysaria seemed put off after Daemon left by the words that Gyldayn gives us (which anon treats as gospel):

Then the White Worm raised her eyes and said in a soft voice, “The girl has already betrayed you, my queen. Even now she shares your husband’s bed, and soon enough she will have his bastard in her belly.

(Fire and Blood; “Rhaenyra Triumphant”)  

Why would she emphasize there being a child in Nettles? (Aside from Rhaenyra already getting suspicious with bastards after the Tumbleton betrayals). There is something strange about how Mysaria emphasizes that enough to paint a stark image of a fetus in Nettles, growing and becoming Daemon’s child and real that becomes menacing when she’s talking to Rhaenyra. And the notion of a pregnancy is like a “penetration” through Rhaenyra’s own power, as the Tumbleton betrayals are. (The language is styled that way to me.)

We go back and remember how she purportedly lost her child with Daemon all those years ago. And it appears, through Daemon’s words towards her similar to how he regarded Rhea Royce, that they never got to a level of intimacy that would induce a real romance. Because why would Mysaria even say shit about  Daemon if she were happy or content with him after sleeping with him? She wouldn’t have been forced to sleep with him, like how Alys was with Aemond.

Mysaria may have been going through her own refreshed grief and so decided for power here, “monopolize” Rhaenyra for herself so her own influence can grow. And Daemon had to be taught a “lesson”–in her eyes–for abandoning her. If she was with him for years, maybe it’s even true that she expected Daemon to be defiant and risk his life both for his own glory and to help Rhaenyra by killing Aemond by himself.

This is a different story than the usual scorned lover sexist trope because Mysaria here is actually is not all just about Daemon but about her own loss and what that means for her to gain back power that she loses.

[bookclub4m]

Episode 170 - Gender Theory & Gender Studies

This episode we’re talking about Gender Theory & Gender Studies! We discuss theory vs studies, memes, feminism, books that should exist but don’t, and more!

You can download the podcast directly, find it on Libsyn, or get it through Apple Podcasts, Stitcher, Google Podcasts, or your favourite podcast delivery system.

In this episode

Anna Ferri | Meghan Whyte | Matthew Murray | Jam Edwards

Things We Read (or tried to…)

A Burst of Light by Audre Lorde

Histories of the Transgender Child by Jules Gill-Peterson

Before We Were Trans: A New History of Gender by Kit Heyam

Whipping Girl: A Transsexual Woman on Sexism and the Scapegoating of Femininity by Julia Serano

Queer: A Graphic History by Meg-John Barker and Jules Scheele

Beyond the Gender Binary by Alok Vaid-Menon

A Quick & Easy Guide to Queer & Trans Identities by Mady G. and J.R. Zuckerberg

Other Media We Mentioned

BITCHfest: Ten Years of Cultural Criticism from the Pages of Bitch Magazine edited by Lisa Jervis & Andi Zeisler

Body Outlaws: Rewriting the Rules of Beauty and Body Image edited by Ophira Edut

A Room of One’s Own by Virginia Woolf

Female Masculinity by Jack Halberstam

Whipping Girl: A Transsexual Woman on Sexism and the Scapegoating of Femininity by Julia Serano

Gender Outlaw: On Men, Women and the Rest of Us by Kate Bornstein

The Will to Change: Men, Masculinity, and Love by bell hooks

All the Rage: Mothers, Fathers, and the Myth of Equal Partnership by Darcy Lockman

For Her Own Good: Two Centuries of the Experts' Advice to Women by Barbara Ehrenreich and Deirdre English

The Argonauts by Maggie Nelson

X-Gender, vol. 1 by Asuka Miyazaki

A Quick & Easy Guide to They/Them Pronouns by Archie Bongiovanni and Tristan Jimerson

Feminism is For Everybody by bell hooks

Down Girl: The Logic of Misogyny by Kate Manne

A Girl's Guide to Taking Over the World: Writings From The Girl Zine Revolution edited by Karen Green & Tristan Taormino

Links, Articles, and Things

A small sample of Bibliocommons user-curated lists:

Early Feminism Through 1847

Feminist Classics: Third Wave Feminism, the 1990s

Trans Classics: important books about the many trans experiences

Very Short Introductions (Wikipedia)

TERF / FART / “Gender Critical”

Transgender Childhood Is Not a ‘Trend’ by Jules Gill-Peterson

Gill-Peterson is one of 1,000+ contributors to the New York Times who signed an open letter condemning the anti-trans bigotry in their coverage. Read it here.

Hark! Episode 330: Fucking Pie

20 Gender Theory/Studies books by BIPOC (Black, Indigenous, & People of Colour) Authors

Every month Book Club for Masochists: A Readers’ Advisory Podcasts chooses a genre at random and we read and discuss books from that genre. We also put together book lists for each episode/genre that feature works by BIPOC (Black, Indigenous, & People of Colour) authors. All of the lists can be found here.

Living a Feminist Life by Sara Ahmed

The Sacred Hoop: Recovering the Feminine in American Indian Traditions by Paula Gunn Allen

Borderlands/La Frontera: The New Mestiza by Gloria Anzaldúa

Decolonizing Trans/Gender 101 by b. binaohan

The Crunk Feminist Collection edited by Brittney Cooper, Susana M. Morris, & Robin M. Boylorn

Beyond Trans: Does Gender Matter? by Heath Fogg Davis

Women, Race & Class by Angela Y. Davis

Asegi Stories: Cherokee Queer and Two-Spirit Memory by Qwo-Li Driskill

Radicalizing Her: Why Women Choose Violence by Nimmi Gowrinathan

White Tears/Brown Scars: How White Feminism Betrays Women of Color by Ruby Hamad

Feminist Theory: From Margin to Center by bell hooks

But Some of Us Are Brave: All the Women Are White, All the Blacks Are Men: Black Women's Studies by Akasha Gloria Hull

Indigenous Men and Masculinities: Legacies, Identities, Regeneration edited by Robert Alexander Innes and Kim Anderson

Patriarchy Blues: Reflections on Manhood by Frederick Joseph

Hood Feminism: Notes from the Women That a Movement Forgot by Mikki Kendall

Sister Outsider: Essays and Speeches by Audre Lorde

This Bridge Called My Back: Writings by Radical Women of Color edited by Cherríe Moraga & Gloria Anzaldúa

Colonize This!: Young Women of Color on Today's Feminism edited by Bushra Rehman

I'm Afraid of Men by Vivek Shraya

Black on Both Sides: A Racial History of Trans Identity by C. Riley Snorton

Give us feedback!

Fill out the form to ask for a recommendation or suggest a genre or title for us to read!

Check out our Tumblr, follow us on Twitter or Instagram, join our Facebook Group, or send us an email!

Join us again on Tuesday, March 21st when we’ll be talking about the Moving and Management of Books!

Then, on Tuesday, April 4th we’ll be discussing the genre of Domestic Thrillers!