#i think it is worth soaking and boiling them

[kethabali]

man those canned beans/lentils will never compare to raw soaked beans that are boiled at home they just have this richness and depth of flavor those canned ones don't have

[indecisivemuch]

Scandalous

Pairing: Luke Castellan x Reader

Summary: The reveal of a scandalous detail about yours and Luke's relationship left you both flustered and everybody else gaping. Inspired by one line from So It Goes - Taylor Swift (fluff, established relationship).

Warning: allusions to sex, but no explicit details.

Word count: 2k

You and Luke have been going out for well over a year now. Yet, he never failed to make you feel like it would be an eternal honeymoon phase: whispers of sweet words about a lifetime’s worth of promises, delicate and sacred touches, looks filling in for unspoken words.

Loving Luke was as easy as having a daily routine - so natural and almost like a grounding thing from the life of a Demigod.

Currently, Luke was training with Percy. You were not too far away either, sparring with Clarisse. Despite the area being occupied by many other Demigods engaging in similar activities, Luke could not help but frequently glance over at you.

Luke has always been mesmerized by the way you combat, which he metaphorically compared to a ballerina. So precise, yet deadly. Every move was with intention and purpose. 

The way sweat glided down the side of your face, your cheeks flushed from fighting, eyes darting with strategy, heavy pants in between dodging and attacking your opponent, the smirk hinted on your face - all of it made Luke’s mind grow flustered. Somehow, he found everything you do attractive.

If he was honest, his mind seemed to be doing nothing lately but think of you, especially when you’re not beside him. The memories he has harvested over your time together only transformed his brain into a cinema, which constantly played montages of you. Every morning, he’d wake up from a dream about you to the sight of you in his arms - that is before he had to sneak out of your cabin back to his. You constantly occupy every cell in his mind, like an uncontainable virus spreading. Yet, for some reason, he was not scared. He welcomed this feeling with his whole arms wide open.

You broke eye contact with Clarisse to look at Luke. Almost instantly, your eyes melted into ones filled with adoration and his own eyes mirrored the same emotions - if not tenfold. 

You were absolutely enamored with how Luke looked at you. Even before dating each other, people have mentioned the eyes he was giving you. But being oblivious, you did not see what they were talking about. However, it all became clear when you started dating. You started noticing how he would look at you like you were a rare artwork he would most likely never see again or a shooting star - a once-in-a-lifetime occurrence kind of thing that left him in awe all the time. He would do it so endearingly as if it would help to absorb every detail of you and imprint them into his memory. His looks have always made you feel loved - like you were the only thing that mattered to him, as if he has not told you this verbally and through actions already. Usually, you’d feel slightly insecure if somebody was staring so intensely at you, but he did it in a way that made you feel like your flaws were created to be loved for. 

However, a gasp escaped your lips as Luke was showered by a wave of the ocean. Everybody else also drew their attention to the head of Hermes’ cabin and the newly claimed Poseidon kid.

When Luke looked back at Percy, he was faced with a sheepish grin.

“I had to get your attention somehow. I tried calling your name like ten times already,” Percy shrugged his shoulder with feigned innocence, but the glint of mischief told Luke that the kid was anything but feeling guilty about soaking him from head to toe. 

“Percy,” Luke groaned as he could feel the fabric of his clothes cling to his body. Percy bashfully chuckled and offered another sheepish look to the counselor who was meant to train him. 

The cool water did offer a temporary fix to the boiling summer heat. But mixing that with sweat, combat, and Luke's long-sleeved shirt underneath was disastrous. The Hermes boy sighed as he slowly took off the bright orange camp shirt. After struggling slightly, he managed to pull the shirt off from over his head. However, the gray shirt he was wearing underneath got pulled up more than slightly from the extra friction between wet fabrics, revealing the majority of his back to Percy and others. 

He did not think much of it until gasps - including yours - could be heard as this happened. Chris even whistled as he and everybody else spotted what Luke did not notice.

“What?” Luke asked as he pulled down his gray shirt and started wringing his camp t-shirt, trying to rid it from being as wet as possible. 

“Damn, did you get mauled by a minotaur or something?” Percy asked. 

Almost immediately, Luke paled at Percy’s words as he realized what the kid was talking about.

Indeed, as Luke’s gray shirt underneath got pulled up, which revealed the majority of his back, this had also put on display the scratches down his back left from nights that he spent with you. Some were evidently old and healing, as seen by how Luke’s skin was patching itself up and matching closer to his skin tone. Others were somewhat freshly red, while a few were like wounds being reopened. To make matters worse, they could spot the occasional crescent shape bruises that were indentations of your nails. 

Considering your guys’ relationship was not a secret, there was no room to deny it if somebody pointed fingers at you. You blushed as people now averted their eyes to you as if this was the most scandalous thing all year. Clarisse and Chris, on the other hand, were both smirking. 

The whole camp knew you were the one who left those scratches there, and you sincerely wish you could dig a hole to hide yourself from all the attention right now.

Luke’s eyes darted to you, and you offered him an awkward smile as your face grew a darker shade of red.

“No, seriously, dude, you gotta get it checked out at the infirmary. How did that even happen?” Percy only continued, somehow actually clueless about the cause of those marks. You could see Annabeth sending Percy a somewhat side-eye from nearby at his words while Grover let out a deep sigh. 

You started approaching the two, hoping you could intervene and save the both of you from this situation.

“Uhm…well,” Luke started, unsure how to even answer the kid or divert the attention elsewhere as his cheeks flushed and ears tinted pink from trying to ignore memories of what you two had done the night before.

The Hermes boy has jokingly sweet-talked you before on how he might walk out shirtless after one of your rendezvous to show off the marks you left on him. Never would you two think that that idea would ever happen like this.

“Yeah, I reckon you should get that checked out,” you decided to say as you reached Luke, settling your hand on Luke’s lower back and greeting Percy. “Thank you for worrying about him.”

“Yeah, no problem. I mean, it must have been quite a minotaur to land that much of a number on him,” Percy somehow carried on and was utterly oblivious to Clarisse and Chris, who almost bursted out laughing at his latest comment. You, on the other hand, squinted your eyes at the kid. You turned to Luke and you could see it in his eyes that the boy was on the verge of laughing as well. You were sure he would have done so if it were not for your glare.

“Well, we best go heal those wounds now, right Luke?” you gave your boyfriend a look, hoping he would get the message to play along.

“Right,” he agreed almost instantly. 

“Alright, bye, Percy,” you hastily spoke, before dragging Luke by his hand away from everybody's eyes.

“Bye guys,” you could hear the kid’s voice as the both of you retreated. It felt like a walk of shame as the semi-crowd parted ways for you two to leave the scene. You immediately let out a deep breath as soon as nobody was near anymore.

“Gods, that was so embarrassing. The kid basically repeatedly called me a minotaur.”

“I mean…you can be my minotaur?” Luke cheekily jested, trying to tease you a bit more over the situation.

“Oh, no, no, no, we’re not making that a thing. No, absolutely not are you ever gonna make that a nickname,” Luke only laughed at your reaction before wrapping his arms around your shoulders and bringing you into a hug. As he did so, you wrapped both your arms around his waist, face colliding with his chest the way it would usually do when you guys cuddle. He gave you a few peppered kisses on your forehead, close to your hairline. 

“They’re never gonna let us live that down, will they?” You asked after letting out a muffled groan against his chest.

“Nope,” Luke admitted. Despite the Hermes boy usually easing away your worries, even he knew this would be the talk around camp for a while. Nevertheless, he unwrapped his arms around you and cupped your face with both hands. Using his callus-filled hands, yet gentle touch, he soothed your furrowed eyebrows by rubbing over them to urge you from scowling.

“But…you know what? I’m kind of glad this happened. Sure, it might be awkward and a tad bit embarrassing. But now, they finally get to see how lucky I am to have been given a chance by such a gorgeous and sweet Demigod. And…” he paused, giving you a quick kiss. “This way, any guy potentially still after you know to keep their hands off.” He cheekily winked at you after saying so. 

Gods, you remember how jealous Luke would get before you were together. It was lowkey hot to see him so riled up. Though, after the both of you got together, you have always reassured him that you had eyes on him and only him. 

“I guess that also means any girls still thinking they could steal you from me would know they have no chance?” you questioned, smiling ear to ear when he nodded eagerly at your words.

“Exactly. That’s a win-win in my book. I’m not embarrassed they saw what you left on me. They could talk for all I care. So stop worrying, or else you’ll start getting wrinkles,” he lightly flicked the area between your furrowed eyebrows. As you were about to complain, he quickly kissed you right where he previously flicked you, and that immediately melted away any bit of feigned irritation you had with him. He chuckled at the sight of your furrowed eyebrows untangling itself.

“Thank you,” you muttered, showing your gratitude towards Luke. 

If Luke had a superpower, it would probably be calming you down. He has always managed to tame your emotions whenever they were drowning you. He was like an anchor to you, always grounded you during chaotic times. Sometimes, you wonder how you got so lucky. 

You peered up at him sweetly, and the look alone made him lean down to capture your lips with his again. You chuckled at his action and kissed him back with just as much passion as he was leaving on your lips. Your hands started playing with the hair close to the nape of his neck. He let out a content sigh while still showing your lips just how much he loved them and you. However, he abruptly pulled away before dropping a question. 

“Are we really going to the infirmary?” Luke hesitantly asked, bringing up your words from earlier. He watched as you gave him an amused look.

“What did you think?” As soon as his eyes met yours, he knew exactly what you wanted. He gave you a sheepish grin before the two of you quietly giggled to each other before walking further away from the training grounds.

Let's just say you two did not follow through with your words of going to the infirmary, and neither were you tending to his “wounds”.

——————————

masterlist

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[v7lgar]

for @star4daisy, this is very late but happy birthday!

trans!reg tw: dubcon, taking virginity, blood mention and dirty talk

“You can trust me,” James breathed right under Regulus’ ear. He pressed soft kisses and it tickled. “I got you, baby.”

Regulus trusted him but at the same time, he didn't want to trust him. He wanted James to do whatever he wants to do to him. He didn't want to have a saying in it. He wanted him to look at him and think, Yeah, no. I am doing it on my way.

Maybe they didn't talk about this often but he was sure he hinted a few times that what he actually wanted. What he needed desperately. Because it was a sensitive subject to be vocal about. He didn't want to tell James beforehand. He wanted him to take a fucking hint.

“Look at this pretty hole,” James spread his ass cheeks and slapped one of them playfully, “I want to ruin it.”

Fuck, yes.

Regulus grabbed his legs under his knees and pulled them until he showed both his holes, waiting to be fucked hard. But that was the thing, he was still a virgin.

He could sense the animal that is sleeping in James. He just needed to poke it until it woke up. He didn't want to be desperate for it, because it would kill all the fun. But there wasn't much he could do too.

“Fuck, you are soaking wet.”

James pressed his veiny cock between Regulus’ wet folds and slowly grind between them and fuck. He was so close to seeing the stars.

“Yeah, what are you gonna do about it?”

James didn't answer, he spit on his cock that is between Regulus’ swollen pussy lips. And he spread it to his clit by using his dick.

“What if you get hurt? Have you ever thought about it?”

James wasn't concerned, he was just really curious.

Regulus grabbed him by his neck and pulled him down until his lips touched his ear.

“I don't fucking care.”

And James laughed, slowly standing straight, his eyes were devouring his cunt and Regulus wanted more.

“Oh, you shouldn't have told me that.”

Regulus moaned when he started moving his hips, gliding between his swollen folds, he could feel that he was leaking on the bed but he didn't care. He wanted to get fucked, he wanted to make it hurt. He was addicted to it.

“Why?” He breathed hardly.

“Because of this.”

With a quick, sudden move James pulled back until he directed the tip of his cock to Regulus’ virgin pussy and pushed all the way in.

And Regulus screamed from the top of his lungs. He never experienced this kind of pain, ever.

“FUCK!”

“Yeah, that's right baby. Such a tight pussy you have here. Gonna make it worth it to make you bleed.”

Regulus’ was in shock, the pain was all he could feel and James fucking did what he was thinking all night. What he was thinking all the time whenever they were making out. He took his virginity without asking him or making it awfully slow. He took it like it was his birthright.

And that turned him on so much that he felt his body was descending to heaven.

“James.”

“Fuck, I've been dreaming about your pussy since the day I saw you.”

Regulus felt like dying.

“Oh, fuck—”

James pulled back and slammed hard, pounding into his virgin hole as if it belonged to him only. The sound of their skins slapping against each other made his blood boil.

“James, James, James!”

“Fuck, the way you are clenching around me. Do you want me to stuff you with my cock before sleeping? Because I can do that, love. I can fill you with my cum and feed it to your cunt all night. Even when you are sleeping.”

“Oh, fuck— fuck, yes!”

“Fuck, look at this,” He pulled out and spit on his bleeding cunt and shoved his cock in a one ruthless move. Regulus kept screaming his name over and over again.

“This,” He grabbed him by the chin and make him look into his eyes and thrusted inside of him hard, “Fucking belongs to me, do you hear me?”

“Yes, yes! He is yours, I am yours. Fuck me harder, I want it more.”

James laughed and it was sinister, “Greedy, are you?”

Regulus could not answer, he only kept screaming his name everytime he pushed all the way inside. The pain turned into a masochistic pleasure. And he was so close, he was already right there when James took his virginity without asking.

“Gonna fuck you so good, make it bleed like its the first time over and over again. Do you hear me?”

Regulus could only scream, “Yes!”

[anneapocalypse]

On the actual significance of the "Grand Game"

In the three Dragon Age games thus far we have seen Orlesians from three perspectives. In Origins we get the Fereldan view, Orlesians Are Evil, this from a nation occupied and oppressed by the empire and not yet over it. In DA2 we get the Marcher view, or you could call it specifically the Tethras view, Orlesians Are Stupid, a view no doubt cultivated by the fact that the only Orlesians you meet in Kirkwall are rich expats wealthy enough to have a second home in the Free Marches but not important enough to actually need to be in Orlais. And in Inquisition we get I think the closest thing to the Orlesian view of Orlais, which is: we're very powerful and you should want to have us on your side; please ignore all the chaos and civil war and how expendable we consider the lower classes.

Throughout all of this I think it is worth noting that the only people who think Orlesians are so subtle and clever are Orlesians, and mostly it's just the nobles and their hangers-on who think that about themselves. We're introduced to the concept of the Grand Game through Leliana, who romanticizes the whole thing due to her life as a bard. Varric by contrast has very little in the way of romantic notions about Orlesian nobles and mostly portrays them as comical buffoons, from Emile de Launcet to Duke Prosper de Montfort; not one of Varric's Orlesian characters is ever meant to be taken seriously by the audience. In Inquisition, a lot of hay is made about the Game and the need for favor and so forth but it pretty much all boils down to "Nobles have money and troops. We need those. Make them like you."

To me, the interesting thing about the Game is not that it's actually deeply complex or intricate, but how central it is to Orlesian identity. Of course there are intricacies to court politics, but most of it comes down to knowing whose interests and connections lie where, and how those interests may be successfully manipulated. That's not "Orlesian politics," that's just politics, and it's not meaningfully different from politics elsewhere. What sets the Orlesian aristocracy apart from Ferelden, when you look past the cultural trappings and the aesthetics, is mainly that Orlais has much stronger barriers to upward mobility in place (freeholds, or land owned by commoners, are practically unheard of in Orlais, whereas the freehold is the backbone of Fereldan culture).

But where I think the cultural significance of the Game truly matters to Orlesians is in the way it's meant to set them apart as the Good Empire. The empire that is cultured, sophisticated, civilized--you know, not like that other, bad empire up north, the one with the blood magic and the legal slavery. Please pay no attention to the blood-soaked floors of the servants' quarters (or the illegal slave trade that flourished in occupied Ferelden and behind closed doors of remote estates). We negotiate power with subtle words and gestures, and definitely don't sustain it with the blood of the powerless just like the magisters do, but without the magic. It's the magic part that makes blood magic bad, not the murder part. (This is a big part of why I love The Masked Empire, so much, as it really has so much to say about the nature of power and empire and who truly suffers for the games the nobles play, but it's also why what we see in the servants' quarters in "Wicked Eyes and Wicked Hearts" is so important.)

And this all ties into Orlais as the seat of the southern Chantry as well, sitting in opposition to Tevinter politically, culturally, religiously, all of which are inexorably intertwined.

[ichinisankaku]

Backstage Translation - Sharing Out Cuteness (Part 2)

Sakuya: Muku-kun, have you had this chocolate before? Looks like it's being sold at a nearby supermarket for a limited time next week.

Muku: Ah! That truffle's from a brand that's super popular online. You can't order it, so I thought I wouldn't be able to eat it.

Sakuya: Let's go check it out together, then!

Muku: Yeah!

Homare: Ooh, here you two are!

Sakuya: Homare-san?

Muku: What is it?

Homare: Right. I have a present for you two.

Muku & Sakuya: These tea bags are…!

Homare: They're the rabbit ones you showed me the other day. I happened upon them at a supermarket just earlier.

As you said, Sakuya-kun, there are animals other than rabbits, and so I bought a whole variety of them. I'll give these ones to you.

Sakuya: Thank you very much, I'm so happy!

Muku: Let's drink them right away! I'll boil the water.

Sakuya: I'll prepare the cups, then.

Homare: …

Homare: Fu fu fu…

Hisoka: …You're in a good mood.

Homare: Ooh, you're here, Hisoka-kun!

You see, Sakuya-kun and Muku-kun were very pleased with the animal tea bags I gifted them.

Their happiness made buying them worth it. I know! I shall give one to you as well, Hisoka-kun!

Hisoka: …Marshmallows'd be better.

Homare: Hmm… for you, perhaps a cat rather than a rabbit? Or maybe a penguin…?

Hisoka: …You're not listening.

Izumi: …Phew.

(Shouldn't be too long now until these documents are done… wait, it's that late already?)

(Well, I'll keep going until I reach a good stopping point anyway.)

*door opens*

Homare: Oh my, I was wondering who it was. If it isn't Director-kun.

Izumi: Homare-san! So you're still awake.

Homare: Indeed. I was making good progress on my writing, and before I knew it, night had befallen us.

Izumi: It's hard to stop when you're on a roll, isn't it.

Homare: Are you working as well?

Izumi: Yeah. I plan on going for a bit longer.

Homare: Wonderful timing, then. I was about to brew some tea, would you care for some as well?

Izumi: Oh, I'd love some!

Homare: Thank you for waiting.

Izumi: Wow, cute! It looks like the rabbit's soaking in a bathtub!

Homare: Doesn't it just? Sakuya-kun and Muku-kun told me about them.

Izumi: Seems like the type of thing those two would like. It smells lovely too, just looking at it is soothing.

Homare: I shall gift you some too. They're a good companion for work.

Option 1: I'll take you up on that

Izumi: I'll take you up on that, then.

Homare: For you, maybe a cat, or a dog… no, you should have both of them.

Izumi: I can have two?

Homare: Of course. After all, it was thanks to you that I came upon them at all.

Izumi: It was?

Homare: They were at the supermarket we stopped by during the day.

Izumi: Oh, it was then! I noticed you bought some stuff, but I didn't think they would be this cute.

Option 2: I'd feel bad

Izumi: I'd feel bad, though.

It'd be better to give these to Sakuya-kun and Muku-kun…

Homare: No need to worry about that. They were the first ones I gifted these to. Therefore, you can accept them without restraint.

Izumi: You're sure? In that case… I'll take these.

Izumi: Thank you very much. I'll use them when I want to feel relaxed.

Sakyo: …

Izumi: Sa-Sakyo-san, do you think it's maybe time to take a break?

Sakyo: …Good call.

Homare: If you're taking a breather, you should try one of these tea bags!

Sakyo: Excuse me?

Homare: For you… I know. This lion one is rather good, isn't it?

Or perhaps your preference lies with this herbal tea penguin?

Itaru: …Homare-san's been handing out a lot of those recently, hasn't he? I got some too.

Hisoka: …He said he went to buy more just to hand them out.

Izumi: Everyone's pleased with them, so I think it's great.

Yuki: Well, it's not like it's an issue to get tea bags.

Tsuzuru: Even so, Arisugawa-san butting in when Furuichi-san looks like THAT is… pretty amazing.

Taichi: When Sakyo-nii's irritated from the numbers not adding up, I can't talk to him! Not at all!

Hisoka: …Alice doesn't know fear.

Part 1

[vonlipvig]

Hi,

I know that you don't really focus on food or anything, but I was curious if you had any recipes for stuff you really enjoy that are typical to your country/home?

I've been browsing some wikipedia pages on pastries and dishes lately and I wanted to try making something, but I couldn't find it in me to choose from the almost infinite selection of things, so I thought asking my mutual from another part of the world may be a good idea :)

You can just give a name of something you feel is worth trying if you don't know/don't have the time/don't want to share a recipe, but I'd love to get a recommendation or two!

Hi! Yes, of course I'll tell you some of my fave dishes that I think are fairly easy to make (I mean, not that I cook, my specialty is putting frozen stuff in the oven or boiling something so yeah lmao). I'll drop some recipes I found in English for you, cannot vouch for them personally (again, since I can practically burn water), but maybe they're a useful jumping off point for you!

Chocotorta: This is the best cake/dessert in the world and it really is the stupidest thing to make. You need to get your hands on some dulce de leche, which I don't know how difficult that can be, but you get that, you get some cream cheese (that recipe says soft cheese? pretty sure that's not the same, get cream cheese, lmao), and you get whatever cookie can replace our chocolinas (basically any squareish, flat chocolate cookie).Then you mix the dulce de leche with the cream cheese until you get a light brownish mixture. You're gonna lightly soak the cookies in some milk or coffee (lightly, so they don't break), then you're gonna make a bed of them on a baking tray. Put a layer of the mixture on top of that, then another layer of cookies, then more mixture, etc etc. Then you chill, and ta-dah! You can leave it like that, fancy it up a bit, but that's the important part.

Pastel de papa (potato and ground beef pie): A really delicious dish, basically a pie or casserole made with mashed potatoes and ground beef all seasoned and with extra ingredients to make it really yummy. I leave you a recipe in english and one in spanish.

Empanadas: I mean, that's the classic! Basically our version of the 'food-encased-in-dough' staple across the globe. The traditional version is, again, with ground beef, but you can really put anything in there (other typical variants include ham and cheese, onion and cheese, corn paste, etc). IMPORTANT: If the recipe says use raisins for the filling, IGNORE IT, trust me, every good argentine will thank you (Personally I'd take out the olives too, but if you're my grandma I NEVER SAID THAT I LOVE RAISINS AND OLIVES NANA).

Milanesa napolitana: Another big fave, this is our breaded steak (usually fried, but it can go in the oven, it just takes longer), with added tomato sauce and cheese on top and it's delicious. Serve with fries or mashed potatoes for the perfect combo.

I hope that helps, let me know if you ever make some of these! Bone app the teeth! (and everyone else, feel free to drop some good argentinian recipes!)

[the-chosen-fanfiction]

Philip | You, Always You | Romantic

Requested: Yes

Whilst reminiscing on the past, you realise the love of your life has always been right in front of you.

Forcing the yawn that threatens to escape back into your system, you rub your eyes tiredly as the light of the flames hurts your eyes. Seated against a log that digs into your spine, you pull one leg a little closer to your chest, hoping to get more comfortable. 

The day has been long and tiring, with crowds of people constantly gathering around Jesus and requiring His attention. Although there is no better place than at the Messiah’s side, you are aware that all of you need rest from time to time, including Jesus Himself. Constantly staying alert whilst ushering people into fair queues whilst Jesus did His work was worth it yet physically draining.

Ever since returning to camp, all you’ve been yearning for is to crawl into your bedroll, drape over an extra pelt to keep warm and close your burning eyes. With a rich stew warming your belly, you feel your exhaustion creeping up on you as all of camp slowly starts calling it a day, most Disciples already having withdrawn themselves to their tents, and you are about to do the same when a familiar voice says your name. 

You blink in surprise at Philip’s sudden appearance behind you and you turn to face him, your heart fluttering pleasantly at the sight of his smile. “Are you headed somewhere?”

“Well, yes,” you breathe, “I was about to go to bed, actually. Is anything the matter?”

Something sad flashes behind Philip’s eyes, but it is soon replaced by something hopeful. “Well, I was supposed to keep the first watch with Nathanael, but he fell asleep and I can’t get him to wake up.”

You chuckle at the image you can vividly imagine. “That’s typically Nath.” you laugh lightly, “Nothing new with him, hm?”

Philip grins and shakes his head. “He never changes in that regard.”

You hum and are silent for a second, staring at the flames whilst your heart is torn between two things – to call it a day or suggest to stay with Philip for a little while to keep him company – but his request decides for you: “Say, (Y/n), would you like to stay with me for a while? Otherwise, I’ll be so lonely during the first watch. It will only be about two hours until Thomas and Zee will be taking over.” 

“Sure,” you tell him, your heart pleasantly skipping a beat. Spending some extra time with Philip is always a dream, but it also makes you worry that you’ll slip up one day, or that you would say something embarrassing that causes him to not like you anymore. For as long as you can remember, you’ve had the biggest crush on him, and the last thing you want is to ruin your friendship by running your mouth. “Where shall we sit?”

“I was thinking, maybe on the other side than where you are sitting right now? That way, we’ll have a better view of the plains.”

You agree to that and shift your position to the other side of the fire, where he takes a seat next to you. 

A brief silence befalls you two and Philip is the first to break it. “I can boil us some water.” he suggests, “If you can pick a few herbs, we can soak them into it.” 

“Of course,” you tell him, rising to your feet to gather some fresh mint leaves that grow in the shade of a rock formation, whilst Philip rummages around for a bit. You quickly pop a mint leaf into your mouth in the hopes of making your breath a little fresher, for if you’re talking in a low volume, he’s bound to get closer to you. The idea makes your cheeks flame. 

After collecting enough sprigs, you return to his side, for Philip has already put on the kettle and has found two clean cups that he brushes clean from dust with the end of his tunic. “Here you go,” you say, handing him the mint leaves, which he divides evenly. You watch him work whilst getting comfortable. “I remember that we used to make this on days that we didn’t feel like going into town to buy food. When we were still with John, I mean.”

“I miss these days sometimes.” Philip muses, “The wild honey we’d add was so sweet, too. I remember your small obsession with the stuff.”

Blushing, you swat his arm. “Hey, I was not addicted to honey. Okay, maybe a little, but it was over as soon as I got stung in my mouth that one day.” 

Philip laughs at the memory, swirling the water around the kettle carefully to distribute the heat. “Oh, yes, I remember that. You couldn’t eat properly for two days. Your extraordinarily chubby cheeks looked very cute on you though.”

Your eyebrows shoot up at the way he had considered you then, but Philip avoids eye-contact by pouring scalding water into the two cups, handing one to you carefully. His hand brushes yours in the process and you have to prevent yourself from startling too much lest you spill anything, your heart skipping a beat regardless.

“Luckily, it was only temporary. After all, such an experience is not recommended.”

Philip hums and blows some air into his cup. “I can only imagine, and I did feel really bad for you then.”

“You were basically panicking when it happened and my face started to swell up.”

He smiles. “Well, I couldn’t exactly help you in the same way you had helped me when we were children. Remember the incident with the tree branch?” 

It takes you a moment to realise what he means, but when a memory about Philip being stung in his thumb after poking a beehive he had expected to be empty, you cannot fight the laugh. “I’ve never heard you scream that hard ever in my life, nor have you screamed like that after.”

Philip smirks and takes a careful sip of his drink whilst the two of you look at the fire. His upper arm snugly pressed against yours makes you soar, his proximity welcome, familiar. 

“I do remember that you gave me a kiss on my thumb after removing the sting, and it was as if the pain was gone instantly.”

Your cheeks turn red; You had totally forgotten about that detail, and the fact that Philip still remembered made your gut swarm with butterflies.

“Well, I am glad to have been of service.” you try to hide your sudden abashedness. Philip lets out a pleasant sound, his knee hitting yours playfully.

“You know,” he starts, “I’ve often thought back on that moment.”

Flustered, you blink in puzzlement. “Oh? Why?”

Philip finally dares to look at you, his gaze containing something that you cannot quite place. 

“Because it was the first time I ever had such contact with a girl.” Your heart drops, then tightens at the implication that he has been kissed by another girl later on in life. “Of course there have been moments during our teens that girls showed their interest by kissing my cheek, but none of them had evoked such a reaction as to when you had healed my thumb that day.”

With reddened cheeks, you avert your gaze. “Oh, well, I’m glad to hear that I’ve had such an impact on you.”

He smiles wryly. “You must think I’m weird now.”

You frown. “How so?”

“Because that was… How long ago? Twenty… Twenty-five years? And I still think about it from time to time, truth be told.”

You nearly drop your drink and carefully put it down on the ground beside you.

“Thank you for reminding me of that,” you muse, “I had completely forgotten about it.”

The glimmer in his eyes dies down. “Do you mean to say that it meant not as much for you as it meant for me?”

Regret immediately shatters your heart, you firmly shake your head, and you lean towards him. “No– No, of course not! I-I mean… Of course it meant something to me, but… Perhaps I was afraid of how much it would mean to me, so I pushed away the memory.”

Philip lets out a sound of confusion. “Afraid? Of what?”

You fall silent, embarrassment clawing at your throat. For a second, you scold yourself mentally – you should have gone to bed, now you’ve said something dumb that will potentially ruin your friendship, just what you had warned yourself about – before you open your mouth to respond.

“I don’t know.” you shakily say, eyelids fluttering as you force back your blush. “Why did you… Why did you never mention it again?”

Philip lets out a sad scoff and lowers his gaze, shrugging. “Well, I always thought you were going to get married to Boaz.”

“Boaz?” you let out a laugh, “Really? Where did you get that idea from?”

With genuine surprise on his features, Philip meets your gaze. “What…? Do you mean that you weren’t going to marry him?”

“No!” you chuckle, “Never even thought about it. I thought he was way too childish for someone who was nineteen and… Well, I wanted to reserve myself for someone else.”

Philip’s eyes widen. “Oh… What happened?”

For a second, you hesitate. “He never asked.” you say at last, which is the truth. “And I fear that he never will.”

The flow of your blood is so loud in your ears that you hope you’ll be able to hear Philip speak as he visibly mulls over the words. “Well, I think that man would be very lucky to have you as his wife, and if I ever run into him I’ll tell him he’s pretty stupid for letting you wait for so long. If it had been me, I would have asked you ages ago.”

You nearly choke on your own saliva. Is this a confession? 

Suddenly short of breath, you bring your fingers to your lips to touch them, completely in shock. With your free hand, you reach for your tea, that has cooled down enough to be consumed. 

“Are you okay? You’re a bit pale.” Philip worriedly queries when you remain silent. For a moment, you’re worried you’ll spit the drink back into the cup. You take a moment to gather yourself and try to come up with an answer. 

Yes, this is a confession, you decide then and there. And you’d be dumb to let it pass. 

“Then why haven’t you?” you break your silence. 

Now it is Philip’s turn to grow flustered, momentarily confused with your words until he thinks it over. When everything seems to fall into place, his eyes shimmer with hope. 

“Are you… What are you implying, (Y/n)?” He tilts his head slightly in question, as if he is still unsure. 

You take a deep breath. “What I am trying to say is… The man who I was waiting on to ask for my hand in marriage was… Well, you.”

The silence between you two is heavy with unspoken emotion as you stare at one another, neither of you looking away. 

“Really?” Philip croaks, “Am I… Am I dreaming?”

Laughing in relief, you shake your head. “No, Philip, I’m very serious and this is very real.”

His gaze flickers back to the flames and he runs a hand down his brow, grunting in frustration. “Oh, I am such an idiot. Have I been that blind?!”

You giggle and put a hand on his arm. “To be fair, I haven’t been very assertive myself, either.”

Philip hides his face in his hands and lets out another sound, still processing what he has just heard. 

“Forgive me, (Y/n), I am just… Oh, forgive me for making you think I wasn’t interested, because I am. I have always been.”

“As have I,” you admit, “Since we were teenagers.”

“I’ve loved you since long before that.” His words are so soft that you nearly melt and his gaze meets yours, gently, patiently. “Please, forgive me–”

You cut him off lest he feel bad for any longer: “I have already forgiven you,” you breathe, “There is nothing to forgive, anyways. It turns out that both of us were too afraid to come forward with our feelings and misunderstood the other.”

Philip smiles and takes your hand in his. “Then please don’t misunderstand this, (Y/n).” he mutters, and your breath hitches in your throat as he moves forward slightly. 

“Misunderstand what?”

“Marry me.”

Blinking rapidly, you try to comprehend what he has just asked you. When it takes you a few seconds to reply, Philip’s face falls into embarrassment. “I-I’m sorry if I am going too fast, I didn’t mean to pressure you–”

“Yes.” you interrupt, “Yes, I will!”

He exhales in alleviation before grinning from ear to ear, putting a hand over his mouth in disbelief. “Oh!” he murmurs, “Oh, that is… Yes! You’re serious! This is the best day of my life!”

You can’t help but laugh and scoot a little closer to him. “The best is yet to come, Phil.” you muse, and he softens, looking you in the eye. 

“Feel free to say no, because it’s not really part of our customs, but… I’ve been wanting to properly kiss you for so long, and at this moment…” He sighs and cups your jaw, thumbing gently at your cheekbone. “I would love to just…” 

His voice trails off, and you don’t reply verbally. Instead, you lean upwards to connect your mouth to his, for he has not been the only one to have mustered that desire for the last fifteen years. 

Softly pulling you closer, Philip returns the sentiment, wondering why he has ever waited  this long, and imagining a beautiful future with you at his side, promising you silently in this moment to always be there for you, like he always had been.

[ryuttaeng]

Can u do sub!Yuna being a tease towards g!p hard dom!Ryujin? Always rubbing against her playfully and making the most seductive faces when eating something in front of the older girl. Ryujin finally has enough of all the teasing she’s gone through for weeks and gives Yuna what she wants.

pairing: gp!ryujin x yuna

summary: ryujin wanted to cry from all her wife’s teasings.

contents/warnings: smut, minors dni. g!p, unprotected sex, pet names, jealousy, swearing/cursing, please do not read if sensitive/uncomfortable with such themes!

genres: smut

obviously, no matter how much yuna tried to make ryujin’s cock hard by all her teasings, it didn’t worked. she would rub against her, her hands caressed all over her body whenever they pleased, trailing lower and lower each time, but it didn’t work out.

yuna’s lips ghosted ryujin’s neck while she was talking to someone on her phone. the younger girl whispered in ryujin’s ear, yuna gently palmed ryujin’s dick through her pants, but older girl was quick to leave, knowing that yuna felt her dick growing. yuna scoffed, “at least it worthed a shot.”

ryujin exhaled, taking deep breaths to calm herself down. despite yuna thinking that all her previous attempts to make ryujin fuck her were unsuccessful, ryujin perfectly knew that her wife knew all her erogenous zones.

she sighed, as the loud music continued to play. it’s some kind of party that yuna’s friend hosted and her wife insisted her on going out with her.

there was no doubt that her wife had striking visuals. yuna was dressed in one of her form-fitting dresses that accentuated her hips and her forms. it was black and had a plunging neckline that exposed her skin, the swells of her breasts.

ryujin definitely didn’t minded what her wife was doing and with who, but seeing some guy holding yuna by her waist and whispering something in her ear made her blood boil. ryujin remembered that yuna already presented that guy to her, if she remember right, his name is jiwoo.

yuna clearly showed that she doesn’t want his attention at all, tried to tell him she’s married but it didn’t work. “jiwoo, i think my wife clearly doesn’t want you around, why wouldn’t you just fuck off already?” ryujin said, as the guy quickly took a step back. “i— okay, sorry.” he muttered out, walking away. yuna remained silent as she felt ryujin’s hands on her waist.

the door clicks shut behind them, yuna doesn't waste a second, pushing ryujin's back against the surface, hungrily attacking the older girl’s mouth with her tongue. “i love when you’re rough, babe.” yuna muttered out, making ryujin groan roughly and hooks her arms under yuna’s knees, lifting her until her legs wrap around her waist and turns, slamming yuna back into the door. the younger girl cries out, feeling her panties soak through when ryujin’s lips went lower, marking yuna’s neck. her hips grind forward, rubbing her hard cock between yuna’s legs and hitting her clit with each roll, quickly working her up into a frenzy.

"you’re mine," ryujin emphasizes each word with a hard thrust, feeling yuna’s hot puffs of air into her shoulder blades as she hangs onto her, "not fucking jiwoo's. he could never make you feel like i do, do you understand?"

yuna gaps, "oh god, ryujin, yes... fuck, please!”

"say it." ryujin growling, nipping down her neck roughly. “say you don’t want jiwoo.” she knew yuna would never give a chance to someone like jiwoo, but she still had to be sure.

"i don't want jiwoo."

"say that you are mine."

yuna screws her eyes shut, "i’m yours."

ryujin grunts and steps back, reaching bed, falling back on the edge with her wife straddling her lap. their mouths meet frantically, kissing as yuna rubs her panty-covered pussy against ryujin's painfully hard cock, wanting nothing more than tear away the barriers between them and have ryujin inside her. her hands tug at short-haired strands.

ryujin dip her fingers under the waistband of the pants pulling them down, as yuna squirmed on the bed. the older girl helped her took off her dress, taking yuna’s underwear with it.

ryujin pulled yuna down to settle between her legs flat against her, her cock sliding through wet folds. ryujin ground a little harder, the head of her cock rubbing against her wife's clit. yuna threw her head back, letting out a cry.

"ryu, i need you inside." yuna whispered. ryujin groaned as she continued to tease yuna’s folds.

finally, she reached in between them and guided her dick to yuna’s entrance, sliding in. yuna moaned at the familiar stretch of her wife's cock that she craved for weeks. ryujin began moving her hips in a slow rhythm taking herself out almost all the way before thrusting all her length in, due long thrusts, yuna whimpered.

"ryu, more..." girl under her moaned, ryujin began to increase her pace slightly, moaning with her wife, as her nails digging into her back. using her chance, yuna started kissing ryujin’s neck before biting it, making ryujin give her a hard thrust.

ryujin let out a shaky breath before she began to pound into yuna. ryujin dislodged her hold and raised herself off yuna to grab hold of her hips, pushing into her again and began thrusting in in an unrelenting pace.

yuna screamed as she kept hitting her sweet spot over and over again feeling heat building in her stomach. each thrust sends pushes yuna forward as ryujin slams into her. “oh god-” ryujin could feel yuna’s walls tighten around her cock and ryujin grunts.

“you’re taking me so damn well,” ryujin doesn’t struggle at all to speak through her thrusts, her pace never changes. “cum with me, love.” 

"ryujin!" yuna cried out.

ryujin gave one last thrust, throwing her head back as she flooded yuna with long hot ropes. yuna rasped out a moan as she came, her walls milking ryujin's cock.

the older girl collapses on top of yuna, breathing heavily as they tried to catch their breath after their climax. yuna reached up and gently held ryujin’s face.

"i love you." she whispered.

[fuckkbrunch]

Fuck, I've been putting off this post for so long. This one's going to be a little differently formated than the others.

I'm going to list them, and rank them. Hopefully I can cram in all the photos. My egg peeling game is horrid, so prepare yourself for some of the ugliest deviled eggs. I tried to get creative with the photos.

These were from the party section of the book, so I cut the recipes way down so I didn't have a million eggs on my hands.

| Caviar Eggs |

Can't fault the boiled egg method. 9 minutes is perfect. I find it hilarious that the first one of these I made was the caviar recipe. To be honest though, I didn't use fancy caviar. This is simple and cheap lump fish caviar. Basically, a regular ass deviled egg with faux fancy crap on top. Salty. Fishy.

| Anchovy Eggs |

Surprise! Another anchovy recipe! I made my own anchovy paste for this one. I even bought whole anchovies so I could make the optional garnish of boquerones. They're vinegar soaked fresh anchovy fillets, that are then marinated in garlic and olive oil. The recipe for them wasn't included in this book, but I might just make a separate post about it.

That said, that's the most interesting part of this egg. Salty. Fishy. Yet again.

| Hot and Spicy Eggs |

This one specified using either Chinese or German hot mustard. I really looked for Chinese but I couldn't find any, so German style it was. Other than that, the only other unique ingredient incorporated into the filing is Frank's Red Hot. Which is not hot.

Garnished with the white part of a green onion and a cilantro leaf. Oh and I had to buy Morton's salt for garnish. Much too fancy for a recipe with Frank's in it. It was very salty, and very not spicy.

| Mediterranean Eggs |

By far the most elaborate. I was supposed to use preserved lemon in the filling, but couldn't find it at any of the specialty shops in the area. So I googled it, and you can make a few different substitutes. I went the lemon zest and flaked sea salt route, since I already needed to buy that fancy Morton's salt for the last egg recipe.

This one was the tastiest. The filling is full of capers, harissa, the lemon zest with salt, and olive oil. Garnished with whole capers, parsley and saffron threads. Looks great (if you ignore my egg whites...), and tastes great. Salty, but with depth, tang, spice, and citrus. The first time I read through this book, I thought the Mediterranean one would be my least favorite.

| Deviled Egg Variations |

Taste is an overall 2 out of 5. It's boiled eggs.

Difficulty is a 2 out of 5. Finding the ingredients is the hardest part of these recipes.

Time was about 20-25 minutes each. An ice bath is your friend.

Personally, I hate egg whites. I think these would be better used as egg salad recipes, if not only so you don't kill yourself trying to peel eggs perfectly. So annoying.

That said, my ranking is:

Mediterranean Eggs - The winner by a mile.

Anchovy Eggs - The boquerones were the best part. I wouldn't say they're optional.

Caviar Eggs - Quirky. Fancy deviled eggs is an oxymoron.

Hot and Spicy Eggs - Not good. Not flavourful. Not worth it.

So glad to be fucking finished with these. Four recipes, done!

[mrwexleysr]

Where: Sada's Loft When: Dec 17th, Noon

"He's dead, Sada! Laying there in his room, naked and dead, and now I have to explain to this entire building what happened? You truly think that's going to stay hush hush?" Almost able to feel the vein in his forehead threatening to burst, Tobias stared with incredulity at the woman who stood before him, cold and emotionless as ice.

"What do you expect me to say to you? You killed him."

"Excuse me?" The sharpness to Sada's gaze took on a razor's edge, locking on the man who had designated himself the leader of this little pack just because he owned the building. "I did nothing of the sort. Are you proposing that I caused the leak? If I had wanted to kill him, Tobias, I wouldn't have done it stuffing chimneys."

Heavy white fur swathed around her as scoffed in his face, Sada stepped around the man and toward her bar, speaking as she pulled down two glasses and filled them each to the halfway point with rich amber liquid. "Hawthorn was my... lover-" Though she almost cringed at the word. "I didn't want him dead. He knew what he was getting into, and it was consensual." Especially once she'd convinced him of just how badly he deserved to be punished for moving on so quickly when he'd thought her a victim of the outbreak.

"I don't need to hear about your intimate life, Sada. People are going to want something done about this. The fact that you forgot about him there is almost criminal in and of itself." Had she realized and untied him as soon as the alarm bells had been rung maybe he could have been saved.

Ignoring the drink for now, blood boiling as he watched her sip her own with a restrained rage he could see bubbling behind the porcelain mask she'd perfected.

"And who exactly made you judge, jury, and jailer? So now because you own the building you're president of this little community, is that right? Going to put me on trail? Send me Wexley jail?" Sneering the words on the back of a dismissive chuckle, she took another long sip off of her drink, stepping around the bar to all but shove the drink into his hand.

"What do you think would ever happen if there was a vote? Let the people decide who they want to lead them? I have my people here, too, Tobias. I'm far more one of them than you are, living forever up here in your lord's tower. How loyal do you think your serfs really are?"

"Are you threatening me, Sada? This is not the time for divisiveness. Winter is coming and all conflict is going to do is make things harder on us all. You fucked up. You will have to face the consequences." Reaching over to tip his glass so the scotch inside found a new home in her own glass, Tobias set it down on the table next to him.

"You're to be confined to a suite on the fourth floor next to the scouting headquarters until we can decide the best course of action. I have Mal turning the locks around as we speak. You can gather some things and come with quietly, but I won't hesitate to remove you with force if I have to."

"Fine." Looking down at the glass in her hand filled with liquor worth more than the rent than the apartment she'd be kept in, Sada tossed it to the floor at his feet and turned to head into her room without a second look back at the mess it'd made as it smashed on the marble flooring.

Returning not long after with an extremely large suitcase stuffed absolutely to the brim rolling along behind her and a large duffle bag slung over one shoulder, bunching up the sleeve of her polar bear fur coat. Bottoms of her platformed Louboutin's and the wheels of the suitcase crunching over glass she shoved the handle at him and then pushed past, obviously expecting him to carry it down. As if she'd be sleeping on whatever bedding was down there. "This is such a joke. You're a joke."

"Yeah yeah, whatever you say, Sada."

Taking a hold of the handle of the suitcase, he ignored that scotch that was soaking through his shoes and trailing along in two tracks off the wheels trollying along behind them. It'd be a wonder if they survived the stairs as he fully planned to just let it bounce down them behind him.

[0xo]

i miss that house so much. it doesn't exist anymore. but i maybe never felt safer than i did sleeping on that back porch, tiny tv buzzing to me. i feel every inch of the place in my skin, the awkward angles and shoddy repairs and eighty years of ghosts. the kisses, the cigarettes, the whispers and screams.

[tw: references to abuse and domestic violence, not explicit but definitely alluded to]

even when she came drunken stumbling up the stairs and scared me out of my mind, i was safe there. with them. nobody was going to let her hurt me there. still, my heart dropped out of my ass the second i heard her staggering footsteps - i knew that sound too well, she wasn't meant to come over while i was around, we agreed - i hid in the bathroom and sobbed and prayed. i hid her keys so she couldn't drive off again. because even then i cared. even then her safety was on my conscience. she slept for thirteen hours and i was awake every second, terrified she'd wake and blame me, come at me. nobody in the house would have let that happen, but nobody there knew then how bad it had been. why i had to leave. i thought about that while i climbed up the countertops to put her keys on top of the cabinets. i couldn't protect myself from her. but i could protect her from herself in some small way. how horribly ironic.

still, the house was safe. even peaceful, while she slept. i was not at peace but that was just me. everyone worried for her, and they should've. i was hardly in a state to drive. i went anyways and got her pepto bismol and activated charcoal, to soak up the alcohol and the month's worth of lexapro she decided to take before driving over. i couldn't even be angry. she knew that taking them couldn't be fatal, just shitty. she told me so right when she arrived. it was the drunk driving i was most upset about, and then the fact that she put it on me in my safehouse when we agreed not to see each other. she knew where i was and came anyways, with no warning, drunk like she had been when she... hm. i was terrified. and she knew i would be. sometimes i wonder if it was a way to ruin the sense of safety i had in one of the only places i could find it. then i think that's too self-centered of me.

i only told him this year how bad it was. why i left. and he was upset, of course, he didn't realize it had gone that far. but i didn't want to ruin her social support because she needed it as much as i did. "well, you're not ruining anything for her by being honest about what happened, she did that for herself!" sure! sure. but i believed in her ability to be better. still do. hope she is! and if i'd told anyone then, she would've been alone. which wouldn't have been my fault. but i still would've felt bad. how could i not? she needed community and support as much as i did.

it's so complicated. i feared for my life and still worried for hers. i was only twenty. now i'm the age she was and really genuinely wondering why and how you treat someone like that. i mean, i know the how and the why, but... like. i mean. i don't know. say you love someone and then act like that, threaten their life. make them scared to say anything about it. i was lucky i had someone, someone she wouldn't fight, to call. so lucky.

i miss that house where i rebuilt myself. i miss the porch she stumbled up on to, because it's also where i learned to cope with it. i miss the sense of safety i had when my friends were close enough to help. most of my memories there are of love and of joy and of being silly and free with my favorite people. it bothers me that the one time i felt wretchedly unsafe always boils up to the top, but i really can't let that ruin the rest. i miss the green green green backyard and the trees and the smell of weed and the naturdays and the weird movies. i miss the rain on the porch's plastic siding, and the lazy summer heat i could nap in. i miss the dogs. i miss who i was before.

[illseeyouinidaho]

Learning to talk

How do you begin to write about what it was that we had? What we still have, in another form, its forms perhaps differently perceived, it’s all timing, my parents got that right, I’m re-iterating last night’s conversation, It’s still stuck in my head. They hugged me and told me it was okay, that they understood, that they, in part, agreed. I could say that I realized it all yesterday, but I knew before that, and I knew it all before I met them, that I was never ready, still the wet blanket constricting my chest, still the spits and sputters of an old engine, the mumblings of an old man, frail, and left with half-memories, severed-recollections. I’ve been watching the shadows flicker across my walls to the tune of a single flame, burning on whale blubber, emitting a sweet thickness. They, the flickers, jump and scream and cry and love, they love and love and love. Now, I don’t think I can ever say that it’s the simple things that I cherish. Simple things are comfortable things. And I’d happily forfeit those all.

When you run out of tea bags, and you can’t find the motivation to drink the boiling water on its own, thoughts fill the crevices of which the tea once filled. The pauses in my writing, I would think dully, drink the tea, feel it warm my chest then reside, I would continue. I used to swim with the fishes, and those warm ocean waters are all that I muse on. I chew, and I chew, and the tiredness of digestion makes my eyes sleepy and moist. The subtle pain in my eyes after waking, how I must close them hard to clear the gunk of last night’s deep slumber. Did those same fish appear, in my dreams, whispering old tales?

The other day I held a broken wing in my palm, faint flutters and whimpers along with it. Today I held a phone in my palm, tears, exhales, punches in the gut, a siren. Not all phone calls end with an I Love You, this I know well. What is a boy to do? You spoke of prophecies and old doctrines, scripture, dogma. Of rose thorns, from a tree top, 15 inches of hair in its wake. How does it feel from up there? Do you eat ripe figs? Do you sing soft tones to morning doves and they reply with kisses? Your a jukebox, a warship’s captain, a gas giant.

I sat alone in your apartment after having received its keys from its summer-time inhabitant. From the view from the window: little boxes filled with light, silhouettes dancing, dolled and stringed. Did they see me? Knees tucked into submission on the low sofa, still laughing about the stump and crib. A summer’s past and still canned cherries remain in their container, dried noodles in the cabinet, and kosher salt. When you make your homecoming, you’ll surely forage the remains. “Welcome to UWS - sjc”

When I was with you, I forgot how to speak. Your words hurdled at me like arrows, soaked in perfume and sweet wine. When you were wrong you wouldn’t concede until we were both worn down, breathless, ragged, and at times, left with nothing else but the need to hold each other. Your words were an impenetrable forcefield, they fogged my brain with relentless elegance, a wraparound blue-tinted fortress.

When you loved as hard as I did, there isn’t much to say. And so I sat tight, eyes wandering or either staring at a fixed point, when you ended things for the last time. What could I say? What do you say? I never had any idea. There was only one thing I knew for certain; I loved you so endlessly, so entirely. There was at times nothing else worth knowing, saying.

Sing me to sleep, to death: a fiddles’ choir, a low hum, a droning wind. Mother, I feel the dirt coming over me now. Rust of purple hue—the color of bruised mushroom stems or violet flower seeped in warm milk—covers my chest in a thin film.

Resentment was what I felt at times. Resentment of the rejection, the voice of painful truth, on my shoulder, through it all. You spoke so softly to me, little friend, re-iterating, as she would, that this could never be, that we’re better off elsewhere in both time and love and war. That the timing was never right. That you were not what she truly needed. That you were more in love. Not that you loved more. That you were more, so beautifully, might I add, in love. More attracted, more foolish, less desired. Why did I agree? Why did I not fight it? *

Please don’t try to make sense of it, look back try to tie the ends, fit the pieces, or believe what one would tell their peers about how it ended, how it was, the summary, the practiced dialogue, the kiss of death. Letting it be, letting it all be, is the greatest gift of love that you can show me.

Where cherry flowers once fell, decayed, and returned to the soil, I pick my head up from the grass and in front of me is a small clover patch. It’s the size of my palm and is soaking up sunlight from the opening between the branches of the tree, the tallest of the bunch moving ever so slightly from the breeze. When you see the sunlight disappear, in exchange for a dull shadow, over a patch of earth in which you might reside, do you feel melancholic? Within the same instance of time, the patch of clover floods my brain with serotonin, and then is enveloped in this soft shadowy blanket.

It was yesterday, technically, 12 or 1am, when I sent you a voice memo outside of a Fire Island yacht club, high from shrooms that me and my uncle took. I was absolutely ecstatic after coming to a beautiful epiphany about the absurd microcosm of the universe that I was witnessing. Dancing along with a girl from Australia and her boyfriend, my uncle, and his wife’s sister, or something like that, I started laughing uncontrollably, smiling from cheek to cheek, watching the scene unfolding in front of me. It was just too funny, too amazing, too perfect. I wandered outside to the club’s patio in order to view the scene from the window. It was then that I realized the implications of this hilariousness, and the greater ideas surrounding this feeling. It wasn’t that the scene was hilarious outright, it was that I had no ways to describe the true absurdity of it all, the beauty of it. This was when I decided to pull out my phone and tell you all about what I witnessed. There is no way to truly describe beauty, I said. Beauty is either sad, or hilarious. (I can’t say I agree with this fully now but it was the truth of the universe at the time). When we were together (together generally), I said, there was no need to describe something as it was, and then assure the other of how not to take that description as something else. “This is like this, but not on its surface level this". Of course there was no need, but we did it as a formality, you mostly. This was what I said to you, and I only half-way agree with this. It’s true, that we never needed to clarify what we meant when speaking of others, but when describing our relationship, clarification was absolutely necessary. Clarification was necessary, but rarely taken seriously. You could clarify something that could be taken as something hurtful, but just the fact that it could be taken as hurtful was often times hurtful enough. Or perhaps you had to clarify something that could be taken as too affectionate, or something of the sort, out of fear of its implications, or intolerance of me believing anything other than what our relationship actually was. This fear however was never resolved, no matter what you assured me of. This fear that I was unknowing of how you felt, unaware of our circumstances, was an old relic of a time where I did truly not know how you felt, unaware of our circumstances.

Why did I not fight it?”* This is a question of why I wasn’t confident enough, or why I was too weak to truly try to change your mind about something, make you love me more, like in the movies, or something. I think it started in September of last year, when I started feeling the fear of “disgust.” This fear stemmed from after our first break-up, in that park, on that bench, not too far from where you brought me for our last break-up. If I try too much, love you too much, be too affectionate, or what have you, I would simply push you away, cause you to feel disgusted. This wasn’t totally irrational at the time. It was after three-weeks of when this was probably true, it was a break that toed the line between “everything is going to be okay,” and “I’m going to be broken up with,” the outcome was a toss-up. This also stemmed from the time where we swore to be friends, that it would be better for us, and I believed you. And between that time and including this writing, I am in constant fear that you’ll be disgusted with me. Of course, this is a strong word, and the idea is pretty irrational in general. However it's a feeling that guided me through our time together, and I want to bury it forever.

I’m on a bullet train heading both forward and back in time, watching the colors swarm around me, and letting it leave a soft blanket of red, yellow, and the shade of a bare stone cliff worn by the elements. What’s that feeling you get when viewing the mile long field of small yellow and white flowers on the side of a highway? It’s surely not the same feeling the dark pine trees give you, or the rolling fields of the amish country, long barn, grass fields pregnant with seeds for the next season’s harvest. I ask myself, what is this bitterness? What is this bitterness in a world so ready to hug me and show me love? But it took me 20 years to love you. Am I fully ready to let it?

In this town of 30%-off flower shops, deer crossing signs, and white hippy trash, I wonder what a place like this would give me. My sister left home because she needed to create new memories, new ideas, and new conceptions of the world after her breakup. History repeats itself and is making me ask still, if not me then who, if not now then when? Tight streets, hard turns, yellow street lines, volunteered town libraries. Barns rotting from their foundations; gentrification will probably never reach here. 

Sometimes I can feel the warmth of chest and stomach against the skin above it. Like my organs are working overtime and in turn producing an unexpected heat. Sometimes I roll over in bed and imagine you’re there, in the white ocean, with the fish. The alarm is ringing and I hop out of bed quickly to turn it off and promptly retreat to the warm of the covers; you’re breathing gently. Somedays, like today, I miss everything about you. And days like today I’ll think kindly and with love, of you, and I’ll wish you well, soldier.

In my book of life where do you fit, take residence? I wonder if years from now we’ll give it a try. Or maybe I’ll meet someone who loves me how I need to be loved, like you would say, assuring me that your romantic suggestions had no implications, and me telling you that it’s only you that I want.

My dad says he remembers his first marriage as much as he does a good book. It feels like a dream, he says, something that you read about, or lived through in another life. I told my parents that I’ll marry quick once I’ve found the one, that I’ll know it when I feel it. We’ll see about that in time, I suppose.

We made something to be proud of.

Upward, into the abyss, the blue void, the moon is shining proudly against the sea. From here I can hear the whispers of love’s death and rebirth as street lights emit their florescent hues toward me: dinner tables, a new Danish TV drama. Onward, light speed, you super-sonic engine, roar-on, big beast. From here, memories of you jump out at me like photographs, film projections, morning-light against suspended dust. From here I can already see the cold, the fallen leaves and morning’s branch candied by last night’s icy wind. After it, the winter’s thaw and melt, the feast, the turkey leg’s sweet marrow sucked from its bone. City centers sprawl like a fallen snowflake, a mycelial network, a crushed spider’s sprawling legs, single lane highways like an ant trail, they to the mother hive, with their best offerings.

Tell me ol’ tavern fiddler, will you, of edible arrangements, mood boards, and words that rhyme with happy birthday, babe. Sing a song, good chap, (I’ll pour another), of what it takes to be the man, the top dawg, the big guy. 

So watch me crash down to earth. The LEDs are harsher down here. There are last stops and sore throats, blue seats and blue people doing blue things. They think of their first love, first heartbreak, or first kiss, and imagine what could’ve been, doing one of those frown-smiles. They think of their coworker, the one they want to fuck, or the ones they want to love and be loved by. They’ll dust off their skeletons, scrape the rust from their lips, and kiss the pebbles they skip.

[punkrockgenasiashton]

Ive shared a few of these before, but my continued adventures of the Exquisite Exandria cookbook, decided to post them all with some opinions and ratings:

1.. Beer Basted Breakfast Brawts: 9/10 The slaw and butter recipes alone are incredible. Ive never been a coleslaw person, in fact long time followers might remember me railing against it at points. This slaw is fucking incredible and the compound butter makes for a *fantsatic* spread for a sweet bread. The Brawts are really good too, but theyre a very basic Soak Brawts In Beer Then Boil And Grill, of course that is good.

2. Spyre by Fire Beer Braised Brisket: 7.5/10 Fine enough oven made brisket recipe. Came out a bit on the dry side, but I think that had more to do with having a very lean piece of meat to start with. That said, I think the cook time was 4-7 minutes for searing and 3-4hrs of oven time, next time Im going to be sticking closer to 4 minuts and 3 hours. Also, the recipe says to strain out the veggies from the gravy. Dont listen to those fools, the carrots are so soft and delicious.

3. Coffee Brined Fried Chicken & Coffee Gravy: 8.5/10 Never wouldve thought to us coffee in a brine for chicken or as the main ingredient in a gravy, but holy shit this is good. The coating is a bit heavy and a little salty, but the chickent was so soft and tender, highly time consuming though because fried chicken is a lot of work.

4. Den Theyless Stew: 9.5/10 Book cost is worth it for this recipe alone. The complex flavors of the Japanese curry alongside the sweetness of the rice wine mixing with the savoriness of the beef is just incredible. Add on the dumplings and this dish is one of my favorite things Ive ever cooked. Only reason its not a 10/10 is the recipe as written doesnt have garlic or celery in it, I added 4 cloves of garlic and 2 stalks of celery and am happier for it. Also, ignore the directions, cook the meat first, remove it, then add the veggies its much easier.

5. Marquisian Street Meat & Concelatory Couscous: 8.0/10 The marinade is simple enough and makes for a fresh, herby taste on the chops (I used pork chops as opposed to lamb chops because lamb is a bit expensive) grills up quickly and easily. I recommend seasoning the meat though. 8.5/10 Couscous is something I have very little experience with but was very good and simple to make. Great option as either a side or a vegetarian meal.

6. Pocket Chicken Pot Pies: 5.5/10. Fine, nothing special. You can see from the picture that this was not an easy cook for me and I wound up having to make mini pot pies as opposed to the pocket one because I couldnt stretch the dough thin enough. Alot of my issues here were the dough, I think I started with the butter to cold...but like...the chicken soup bit was very good?

7. Bad Aim Chicken: 8.5/10 Really good. Easy enough to make and its really hard to go wrong with grilled chicken or pineapple. I personally didnt save any of the sauce for dipping and just used the entire thing as a marinade and dont think I missed anything. Highly recommend for bbqs.

8. Skaldseat Salmon & Heartmoore Harvest: 10/10 for the fish, flaky, juicy, and really well seasoned. My new way to make salmon just about every time, though I do think you could do it with fewer/no lemons if you wanted. 6/10 for the salad. Its...fine, nothing special, though the potatoes do make it a bit different for me. My biggest issue is it doesnt keep that well.

[femchef]

So today was the first day back for teachers (semester starts on Monday) and I was going over my notes from one of my classes and picking out things to share with another teacher who’s teaching the same class on one of our satellite campuses -

So anyway, does anyone want to read my lecture notes on thickening agents that I turned into a study guide (I wrote one up during the semester because we didn’t have any previously prepared materials because other instructors just skip or gloss over the chapter but I felt like it was worth the time to focus on the topic and also I’m a Nerd about stuff that makes things gooey).

You know what - I’m just going to post it under a cut below, because it’s fun and also an infodump.

**For context, even though my notes go into more specifics than the required reading, the book for the class is called How Baking Works by Paula Figoni (3rd edition, tbh needs an update but is a good reference), and the link I am telling them to refer to for more information on gelatin that includes conversion charts is here:

Thickening Agents Study Guide

1. Thickening vs. Gelling

1.1. Thickening = moving slowly, viscous, but still some movement while set

1.1.1. Either when sugars and proteins become loosely entangled or when water is absorbed and trapped by swollen starch granules, or when air bubbles in foams or fat droplets in an emulsion slow water movement.

1.2. Gelling = completely set, no movement whatsoever

1.2.1. When water and other molecules are prevented from moving around at all, usually when sugars and proteins bond or tightly entangle and form a larger network that entraps water and other molecules.

1.3. A number of thickening/gelling agents are interchangeable in different quantities.

2. Food-Grade Gelatin (Type A Gelatin) is produced by boiling or soaking pigskins in acid; the connective tissue breaks down into thick strands of collagen and thinner strands of gelatin

3. Powdered Gelatin is made from lower-grade pulverized sheets

4. For more information, take some time to view the attached link in blackboard and the conversion charts.

5. Vegetable Gums = polysaccharides that absorb large quantities of water and swell to produce thick liquids and gels. Veg Gums are a nice source of dietary fiber (think fiber one Powder added to drinks)

5.1. Pectin = present in all fruits

5.1.1. LM (low Methoxyl) Pectin = Also comes from citrus peels or apple. Used in low-calorie jams and jellies, relies on calcium rather than sugar to solidify. Suitable for dairy-based products. Becomes increasingly firm as calcium is added until it reaches saturation point, at which time it begins to reverse in process and soften.

5.1.2. HM (high Methoxyl) Pectin = Comes as Rapid Set or Slow Set; extracted from citrus fruit peels. Rapid-Set for products that require suspension; Slow-Set for recipes that require a smooth texture with no suspension (such as a jelly)

5.1.3. NH (Thermal Reversible) Pectin = Modified LMP; Requires sugar and acidity to gel (and less calcium), and can be melted, set and remelted – requires heat to activate properly. ‘NH’ because of the Ammonia Hydroxide treatment it receives to modify (NH3(aq))

5.1.4. Apple Pectin = Derived from apples. Usually sold as a powder, can be used as a gelling and thickening agent, as well as a stabilizer. Is high in healthy carbs, dietary fiber, sodium, manganese, copper, and zinc – which is why it is a common ingredient in health supplements and pharmaceuticals. Additionally used in laxatives for natural purgative qualities.

5.2. Agar = Is a polysaccharide extracted from either of two varieties of red algae (ogonori and tengusa); has gelling/setting properties that behave remarkably like animal protein. Less agar is required than gelatin, and agar has the benefit of holding shape at room temperature. Cannot be used to stabilize aerated products, and does not whip well.

5.3. Carrageenan = a family of sulphated polysaccharides, name comes from variety of red seaweed found off the Irish Coast termed “Irish Moss”. Typically used in conjunction with meat and dairy products, for which they work particularly well, in large-scale production for stabilization, thickening gelling and texturing.

5.4. Guar and Locust Bean Gum

5.4.1. Guar Gum = Extracted from the endosperm of Guar Beans (legume); does not self-gel like LBG, but is more soluble. Requires high temperatures, high ph and longer times to cause gelling. Low-cost alternative to many other agents and starches, and is 8 times more effective than cornstarch. Used commercially, and stays stable when frozen/thawed.

5.4.2. Locust Bean Gum = Extracted from endosperm of bean on Carob Tree. Dispersible in hot and cold liquid, and converts to gel with addition of minimal amount of sodium borate. Is naturally sweet and is typically used to sweeten foods and as a replacement for chocolate.

5.5. Gum Arabic = Acacia/Senegal/Indian/Sudani Gum = Harvested from Sap of two Acacia Tree Species. Primarily used as a stabilizer (such as in sodas and cosmetics).

5.6. Gum Tragacanth = derived from several species of legumes in the genus Astragalus (Tragacanth, lit. “Goat + Thorn”, which is common name). Largely produced/exported from Iran. Is viscous, odorless, and tasteless water-soluble sap. Traditional binder for pigments in artist’s pastels, and main gum used in fabricated Gumpaste.

5.7. Xanthan Gum = derived from a species of bacteria, Xanthomonas Campestris (same bacteria which causes a variety of plant diseases, such as black rot in brassicas and bacterial wilt in turf grass). Produced via fermentation of glucose and sucrose. Is used to stabilize emulsions (is not an emulsifier in itself). Also helps suspend solid particles in liquids. Commonly used as a thickener in egg white substitutes and to build matrix in gluten-free products where there is no gluten-development.

5.7.1. Shear Thinning/Pseudo-Plasticity: Non-Newtonian behavior of fluids who’s viscosity decreases under ‘shear strain’. Examples Ketchup and Salad Dressing.

5.8. Methylcellulose = “Modified Vegetable Gum” an emulsifier and bulk-forming laxative. Unique property of Setting when Hot and Melting when Cold – commonly used in ice creams for this reason.

6. Starches = Starch molecules are polysaccharides that are arranged in one of 2 ways: either as long, straight chains or as short, but highly branched chains.

6.1. Amylose = long, straight chain starches

6.1.1.  Clouds when cooled

6.1.2.   Firm, heavy-bodied gel when cooled

6.1.3.   Not freezer stable

6.1.4.   Thicker cold than Hot

6.1.5.  Masks flavors

6.2. Amylopectin = short, branched chain starches

6.2.1.   High Clarity

6.2.2.   Thickens, but does not Gel

6.2.3.   Less Likely to weep over time

6.2.4.  Less likely to weep when thawed (more freezer-stable)

6.2.5.  Same thickness hot or cold

6.2.6.  Less likely to mask flavors

6.3. Cereal Starches = extracted from endosperm of cereal grains

6.3.1. Cornstarch

6.3.2. Rice Starch

6.3.3. Wheat Starch

6.3.4. Waxy Maize

6.4. Root Starches = Extracted from roots/tuber plants

6.4.1. Potato Starch

6.4.2. Tapioca Starch

6.5. Modified Food Starches = Starches treated with one or more chemicals to possess more desirable properties or results. (i.e. increased stability with excessive heat/acid, texture, speed of setting)

6.5.1. Corn

6.5.2. Potato

6.5.3. Arrowroot

6.5.4. Tapioca

6.5.5. Waxy Maize (clear and clearer tasting)

6.5.6. Instant Starches = pregelatinized or cold-water swelling (jello cold pudding mix).

6.6. Refer back to previous chapters about gelatinization of starches

6.7. Refer to chart 12.5, pg. 337 for a comparison of properties

Homework: 1-30, Ch. 12

[hey-michael-young-history]

like imange Kuai liang haveing a pet dragon as a young child how would the other lin kuei react plus his father ❤️

Sorry this took so long! But I think it’s worth the wait ^_^

“Whooooooa!”

“A dragon!?”

“Tundra, is this yours?”

Vixen sighed in relief. Her sons’ friends - really, her sons - had arrived on time. The hours she spent making breakfast would not be wasted.

“I never got a pet,” Bi-Han grumbled as he set the table.

Her husband snorted at that. With his eyes still on his phone, checking his schedule for the day, he said, “I wouldn’t trust you with a pet now, brat.”

“He goes on one mission—”

“Hey Vortex,” Hydro said, exhaling smoke as he entered. Once he noticed Vixen, he quickly soaked his cigarette and crushed it. “Haha Tàitai, good morning.”

Before she could scold him, Cyrax and Sektor came in next. It was still difficult for her to think of them all as their code names. To her, they would always be Mitsunari, Felix, and Jing.

“That dragon can’t be more than a year, right?” Cyrax asked, helping Bi-Han with the table. “I know Tundra is still pretty—”

“Is there fruit today?” Sektor asked.

“I saw some jujubes ripening out back, please go pick a few for us, Jing.”

Hydro shoved a piece of gum in his mouth and asked, “Jujubes are more interesting than the baby dragon, huh?”

“Who cares?” Sektor responded, walking back out. “My father has a whole stable.”

Must be nice to have a dad who can tame a dragon for you, Hydro mused. He sat next to Vortex, who pushed his mug over, without looking up. Hydro picked up the mug and filled it with boiling water. He stirred up the coffee grounds at the bottom before pushing it back. He smiled when Vortex’s heavy hand tossled his hair.

Smoke came in next, absolutely reeking of the outside air.

“Oh no, Tomas, you know the rules. Go wash up before you sit at the table,” Vixen scolded before the boy could sit down.

“But I was just playing with the dragon—”

“All the more reason to make sure your hands are nice and clean before you eat,” Vixen reasoned. “Don’t worry, I’m saving the fluffiest pancake for you.”

That admission raised grumbling accusations of favoritism from the other boys as Tomas smiled and went to the bathroom.

“Bi-Han, can you tell Kuai Liang that it’s time for breakfast?” Vixen asked, removing her apron.

“Why? He’s where he wants to be,” Bi-Han complained. “With his new best friend.”

“I’ll go so that Tundra’s old best friend doesn’t cry,” Vortex chuckled, setting his phone down.

He walked out to the back, where he could see Sektor in the distance, picking jujubes from a tree. He spotted Tundra closer to the house, in the enclosure that he and the boys built for the dragon he had brought home.

“Breakfast time, Tundra.”

The boy was facing away from him, watching his new friend sleep. “Yes, Father.”

“We can go back together,” Vortex prodded.

“Okay.”

Tundra stood and faced Vortex, half of his face covered in heavy bandages. Vortex didn’t allow his face to betray the guilt that poisoned him every time he saw it. Vixen had said that Tundra was too young to take missions, but he, Bi-Han, and Sub-Zero before them had all began taking assignments well before fifteen years old. It was bad luck that their Intel had been wrong and he came across the Black Dragon mercenaries, who were searching for the same artifact as he.

Seeing Tundra return with the dagger, so covered in blood that Vortex couldn’t figure out where he was bleeding from, produced a mixture of pride and panic that he’d never forget. The doctors said his eye would be fine but they couldn’t be certain of what exactly happened because the boy wouldn’t talk. For days after, he simply didn’t speak at all. Refused to leave his room, refused to turn off the lights. He didn’t engage with anyone other than Vixen until Vortex came home with a baby dragon from his father’s farm.

“She will be safe here,” Vortex promised.

“I will not let anyone hurt her.”

“I know,” Vortex responded. He extended his hand. “Let’s go eat.”

[traveler54]

When I find home...

I want to heal my heart so I can pursue my dream of helping others heal. Because there's so much pain out there. Too much. And too many abhorrent creatures that condone abuse and abuse themselves. Boils my arteries. No one should ever be called disgusting names, told harmful language. Tossed around. And anyone that ever victim blames should feel every ounce of shame that they deserve. Feel it. Soak it alll in. Like a sponge. Although we are not our actions, you better believe they can be incredibly damaging to our existence and others. So really think before you talk, really think about it. Is calling someone an a**hole or b*tch worth it? Flipping that driver off? Being rude to your spouse? And if it is, how? Is it benefitting your 401k somehow? Or your steam account? Or your family? Although people are capable of possessing the qualities of a b*tch or an a**hole, don't say it. The trophy of their actions will come to them in the perfect time. And I understand it hurts to restrain yourself, believe me, I know. I get mistreatment everywhere. Work, at the grocery store, on the road, in my extended family, the house I'm told I'm supposed to call home. The more you train yourself to restrain those vicious, nasty words and privately cope through the abuse they caused whether intentional or not in a healthy manner, the stronger you will be. Of course, escape the abuse and protect yourself at all cost if you can. Try to be the best, healthiest, strongest person you know, because you need it and others do, too. Let those who refuse to change the error of their way, suffer, and those who just need to be corrected and change, grow. we're fallible.

Try to do your best today. Because every moment matters.