#mediterranean fever

[egyptianx-x]

حمى البحر المتوسط (٢٠٢٢)

[personaldiary]

I'm heading to Italy in less than a month, and I can't wait 🥹

[hirazuki]

Deep in the throes of updated covid booster-induced fever, so it won't be happening tonight, but I finished Nocturne and I have Thoughts™ about it, which I will probably share eventually, once I have the energy. I also have Many Thoughts about some things I've seen slinking around the tags, which I will not be sharing, as I definitely do not possess the requisite energy for that XD

[hamza-gaza]

🖐🏻🖐🏻🖐🏻📢📢📍Looooook they are burning in the tent ⛺💔💔😭😭

📍Dear friends and compassionate souls🛑❤️‍🩹🍉

My name is hamza and the voice of my family, and I am reaching out to you during one of the most challenging times in my life. My family and I are currently living in Gaza, and the situation here has become increasingly dire. With winter approaching and the threat of further conflict looming, we find ourselves in urgent need of assistance to evacuate and find safety.

And today i will show you pictures before the war and after the war .

Please donate to us we are civilians and we want to live👉🏻. https://gofund.me/abf54bf1

We are a family of 7 , including my elderly parents and young children. The stress of our current living conditions—struggling to find shelter and basic necessities—is overwhelming. Every small donation can make a tremendous difference, providing us with the means to escape this situation and start anew.

💔💔 **Help Save My Little Sister** 💔💔

Dear friends and kind-hearted souls,❤️🤍

I am reaching out with a heavy heart to share the struggles of my little sister, who is bravely battling Mediterranean fever. This chronic illness has taken a tremendous toll on her young life, and the absence of necessary medicine makes each day a fight against overwhelming pain. 😢💔

She deserves a chance to live without fear of the next attack, to laugh and play like any child should. But without the right treatment, her health continues to decline, leaving our family feeling helpless and desperate. 😭💔

Every bit of support, whether emotional or financial, means the world to us. Your kindness can help us find the resources she desperately needs to manage her condition. Together, we can give her hope and the chance to enjoy life again. 🌈💪

Please 🥺 share our story, offer your prayers, or anything else you can do to help. Your compassion can make a difference in her life! 🙏💖

Thank you from the bottom of our hearts👇🏻👇🏻👇🏻 click here

Your generosity can bring hope and warmth❤️‍🩹 to our lives during this challenging time. Please consider supporting us in any way you can🙏🏻, whether through a donation 🙏🏻🙏🏻or by sharing our campaign with others.🔗📌📢

From the bottom of our 🥰💕, thank you for your compassion and support.❤️‍🩹📍

Hamza and my family

https://gofund.me/abf54bf1

@el-shango-drew-and-shot @malcriaada @appsa @aces-and-anime @buttercuparry @ahaura @schooloutfitideas @pcktknife @transmutationisms @sawasawako @feluka @tamarrrra @familyabolisher @fleshdyk3

@decolonize-the-everything @heritageposts @palipunk-blog @gothhabiba @lonniemachin @aristotel @watermotif @stuckinapril @ @ghelgheli @determinate-negation @papasmoke @deepspaceboytoy @omegaversereloaded @xinakwans @givemearmstopraywith @k @deathlonging @palms-upturned @blackpearlblast @littlegermanboy @loveaankilaq @sar-soor

@malcriada @appsa @aces-and-anime @ahaura @schoolhater @pcktknife @transmutationisms @sawasawako @feluka @tamamita @familyabolisher @fleshdyk3

[communicationthroughlyrics]

She Had Other Plans

You were a successful leader of a criminal empire. Your girlfriend was a successful tease, especially when you are halfway around the globe.

PT. 2

AN: I hate my mind sometimes. I just stew and stew and can't get an idea outta my head. So here is one of them. And this is my first time using one of those text message thingies, so yeah. And before yall ask, yes. there will be a part 2. 😂

TW: smut, daddy kink, strap-on sex, teasing, mentions of murder, mob!boss reader, uhhh yeah. Think that's it.

Word Count: 3.6K

In your line of work, you were away from home constantly. You traveled the world, helping to fuel people's darkest and most deceitful habits, for profit. Exploitation, power, and retribution were your specialties. Your heart had grown cold, at least to those on the outside, which was a necessary trait for your survival. You maintained your polished, playgirl public image well, a successful young business magnate, and you dabbled in philanthropy and charity to keep your reputation to the public clean.

Meanwhile, in the underbelly of society, you were ruthless, ensuring your legacy was cemented even if you departed this godforsaken world. You had climbed the ladder of power with precision, leaving a trail of the broken and betrayed beneath you. It was a world where trust was as fleeting as the morning dew, and everyone had a price. Those who worked for you closely would say you were calculating and charismatic, while those on the wrong side of the line knew you as being one step ahead, making your power felt through silence, vengeance, and detachment.

You had single-handedly become the largest mob boss in the United States, and that quickly spread into other countries, building relationships across the globe. Some were built on trust and loyalty, others on fear and mutual benefit.

Business had called you away to Malta, where you had to bury an up-and-coming threat to your growing kingdom and quell any unrest in your distant ranks. It had been a stressful week, albeit a successful one. When the phone call came across that ushered you away to the Mediterranean, you had been in the middle of…other business. Personal business. Having been teasing your girlfriend all day long, you had finally pushed the sexual tension to a head. The brunette had been panting and begging for you, dressed in lingerie that cost more than most people's cars.

When the call came through, you had left her with explicit expectations as to how she would need to handle her sexual fever in your absence. No touching. No teasing. Most importantly, no whining. That was your number one rule. Begging? Yes. Whining. No.

She had tried her damndest to get you to finish what you had started, but you knew this had to be taken care of expeditiously. So, you left a lace-clad goddess in your shared room while you literally left to murder someone. The following night, she began to push your buttons. She knew your limits, and experience taught her just how far she could push you to get a reaction, one that would benefit you both.

Wanda was 'conveniently' caught outside of your NYC penthouse, leaving in a barely-there skirt with a leather jacket and the pair of black Louboutins you had just bought her. The stocking-clad legs that were strutting out of your building, you knew should be wrapped around your waist, while you had her favorite strap buried to the hilt in her drenched pussy, or wrapped around your head as you mercilessly took out your workday frustrations on her.

However, you were 4,000 miles away, watching photos roll across your social media of the 'mystery woman' who had been able to bag you. You knew she was doing this on purpose, trying to flaunt what you walked out on 12 hours ago, leaving her a babbling, flustered, drenched mess.

Your hand tightened around the phone, your jaw clenched so hard it hurt. Your blood boiled with a mix of anger and desire. You had given her an order, but she had chosen to ignore it. The thought of her walking around like that, looking like that, for anyone else to see made you want to rip out the throat of every man on the street. You had been looking forward to coming home to her, to teaching her a lesson she'd never forget. But now, it looked like she had decided to bring the lesson to you.

She flew under the radar for the next two days, and you were thankful. You missed her greatly, and you wanted to show her just how much when you got home. You were willing to let the wardrobe choice from the other night slide, just to have a night of wanton passion in the penthouse, no punishment, no edging, no teasing.

She had other plans.

You were in the middle of a meeting when your phone started to buzz incessantly in your slacks. This was a meeting you had to focus on, but the constant vibration indication yet another text had been sent was slowly chipping away at your resolve to stay sharp for this meeting. You had told her not to contact you during work hours unless it was an emergency. Looking at some of the texts, you knew this was no emergency. No matter how desperate she made herself sound.

You growled at the phone, knowing she wouldn't respond to any more texts from you. She was playing a game of cat and mouse, and you had a boardroom full of sharks waiting for your undivided attention. You slammed the device down, your eyes narrowing as you turned back to the table. Shutting the phone off, you knew that when it turned back on, you would be greeted with a disaster.

The meeting couldn't end fast enough, you wanted to call her and put her in her place, but the meeting ran long, as you and your new alliance couldn't quite come to an agreement for goods and services rendered.

Finally, after what felt like hours, you had come to an agreement, so you quickly and curtly nodded in everyone's direction, gathering your suit jacket and flinging it over your shoulder as you swiftly made your way down the hall to your waiting car, turning your phone back on as you approached the outside doors.

You climbed into the back of the black Town Car, opening your messages to see some pictures from your girlfriend, taken at obscure angles- her clad in a new lingerie set. You knew it was new, they were a color she hadn't worn before, a navy blue number that stood out against her tanned skin. The photos had been sent with no accompanying text, which was unlike her. Usually, she'd write something teasing, begging for your attention. But these were just…there. They were like silent pleas for your dominance, your authority. You groaned at the images before you, each more provocative than the next.

What made your pulse spike was the Snapchat notification from her. She had just sent you a video. Then there was another. She continued to send you videos until she had reached a total of 11. Knowing these would not just be an ordinary snap, you slipped a headphone into your ear while you opened each video, in the order you received them. The first was her dancing on the pole you installed in the corner of your room, the familiar sound of 'Skin' playing in the background as she worked her hips and taunted you through the phone.

The last video was the final straw. Your most fundamental rule.

She sent you a video of her, sprawled out on the bed, her features were flush, and her chest was heaving. She was still clad in her racy new lingerie, and it was then you noticed it was crotchless. Your mouth went dry at the thought, as her hands made their way up and down her body. Your knuckles turned white as you gripped your phone, the scene before you becoming too much. She buried her fingers knuckle deep in her wet heat, pornographic moans coming through your earbud as you watched her pleasure herself.

You had told her explicitly, no touching herself. You had promised her that when you returned, you would take care of her needs. You had been looking forward to it, to watching her come apart in your arms. But here she was, in your own bed, disobeying you. The betrayal stung, but the sight of her was like a siren's call. You felt a storm of emotions, anger, desire, and something…more. It was a feeling that hadn't surfaced in a long time, something you weren't quite familiar with.

You boarded your jet and tried to calm the storm that was brewing deep within you for the 13-hour flight home. The images of her playing with herself, the thought of her ignoring your command, it was all you could think about. You felt a mix of anger, arousal, and a hint of something else that you hadn't felt in years. She was a challenge, and you hadn't had one a challenge in a very long time.

You tried to distract yourself, completing some work on your phone, trying to read articles about New York politics, but nothing could distract you from the inferno that was building up inside you. Each passing moment brought with it a new wave of desire, the images of her writhing in pleasure burned into your retina. You had to admit, she knew exactly how to push your buttons, and she had just pushed the biggest one of all. You slammed your phone down in frustration, crossing your arms as you peered out the window to the clouds below. After three hours of 'distraction', you finally fell into a restless, lustful slumber.

The flight seemed to drag on forever, but when you landed at JFK, you were more than ready to deal with her. You texted her, telling her to be home, naked, and waiting for you. You didn't care if she had plans or not, she'd learn to prioritize your commands. You had a feeling she was going to be a handful, but that was what you liked about her.

You stalked over towards the waiting convoy of blacked-out vehicles that were waiting to take you home. The sound of your dress shoes echoed through the private lobby to your elevator, as you impatiently waited for the cabled car to come down from the top floor, watching the numbers descend from floor 98 to you, on the third garage floor.

As you stepped into the elevator, you could feel the anticipation building. You were going to show her exactly who was in charge, and what happens when she breaks the cardinal rule. The doors closed with a satisfying 'ping', and you ascended to your penthouse, your mind racing with scenarios of what you would do when you saw her. The elevator doors parted, revealing the sleek, marble floors in your home, the baby grand piano tucked in the corner, and the twinkling New York skyline a backdrop to what carnal acts were about to take place. You turned on your heel, making your way to the furthest room in the house, your bedroom. As you made your way down the corridor to the bedroom, you noticed the doors shut, but a glow came from underneath them.

Your heart rate quickened, your hand hovered over the doorknob, and you took a deep breath before pushing the door open. She lay on the bed, huddled to one side, peacefully sleeping with a book in her hands. She looked innocent, but you knew better. You strode over to the bed, the floorboards giving a slight creak under your weight, but she didn't stir. Carefully, you plucked the book away from her, running your thumb over her nose to wake her up.

"Ragazza monella," you spoke softly, your pent-up frustration leeching into your normally collected voice.

Her eyes snapped open, revealing the deep pools of green that had captivated you from day one. She looked up at you with a lazy smile, not a hint of guilt in her gaze. "You're home," she purred, stretching her limbs like a cat in the sun.

"I see you couldn't wait for me," you said, your voice thick with unspoken accusation as you threw your phone to the side.

Her smile didn't waver. "I've missed you," she replied, her voice a low, seductive purr that sent a shiver down your spine. She sat up, letting the blanket pool around her waist, the hoodie she was wearing you instantly recognized as one of yours.

"I gave you an order, Wanda," you said, your voice low and menacing.

"And I chose to ignore it," she replied, her eyes never leaving yours.

Her audacity was like a drug, and you felt yourself growing more and more crazed at the sight of her. She knew the consequences of her actions, yet she reveled in them. "You know what happens when you don't follow orders," you growled, your hand sliding under the soft fabric of the hoodie to cup her cheek.

Her smile grew wider, and she leaned into your touch. "Do I?" she challenged, her voice a breathy whisper.

With a swift move, you had her pinned down on the bed, the fabric of the hoodie riding up to expose her lingerie-clad body. "You're going to regret this," you warned, your voice dark with desire.

"Am I?" she questioned, her eyes sparkling with mischief.

Your hand trailed down her body, tracing the curve of her waist to the apex of her thighs. "You're already wet for me," you murmured, feeling the dampness between her muscular, toned thighs.

"I'm always wet for you, Papi," she emphasized your pet name, knowing how much you adored her calling you that.

Your eyes narrowed at her insolence, and you felt your ego swell with a mix of anger and desire. "You know the rules," you reminded her, your voice a mix of steel and seduction.

"And you know I love to break them," she whispered, her voice a seductive dance in the quiet room.

You grabbed her wrists, pinning them above her head, your grip firm but not painful. "This is your last warning," you murmured, your eyes dark with lust and promise of punishment.

Her eyes searched yours, looking for any signs of relenting, but she found none. Instead, she felt a thrill run through her body. This was what she had been craving, what she had missed in your absence. The power play, the delicious tension between your dominance and her submission.

"What's it going to be?" she asked, her voice a challenge wrapped in velvet.

Without a word, you yanked the hoodie over her head, leaving her in just the new lingerie set. The room was filled with the sound of fabric tearing as you ripped away the crotchless part of her underwear, exposing her glistening folds to the cool air. She gasped at the sudden exposure, her body arching into yours.

"You're going to learn your place," you said, your voice a low rumble. You leaned down, your mouth capturing hers in a bruising kiss that claimed ownership over her. She moaned into your mouth, her body responding instinctively to your touch, her legs wrapping around your waist as she pulled you closer.

The kiss grew more intense, your tongue invading her mouth, demanding submission. She met your dominance with her own passion, her teeth grazing your bottom lip, drawing a bead of blood. The taste of it made you growl, and you deepened the kiss, your hand sliding down to squeeze her ass.

Finally, you pulled away, breathing heavily. "You're going to get what you asked for," you warned, your eyes dark with lust.

Without another word, you flipped her over onto her stomach, her ass in the air, begging for your attention. You smacked her once, watching as the skin turned pink. She moaned into the pillow, her hips moving back, silently asking for more. You didn't disappoint, your hand coming down again and again, leaving a pattern of red across her skin. Each slap echoed through the room, punctuating the sound of your heavy breaths and her whimpers of pleasure.

You felt your own need growing, and you were glad that you had opted to change into her favorite suit with a strap-on surprise. You knew she was close, her body shaking with each smack, and you couldn't wait to watch her greedy pussy swallow your new toy whole. You slid your hand between her legs, finding her wet and ready. You whispered, "You're going to come for me now," and thrust two fingers inside her, curling them in a way that made her scream into the pillow.

Her orgasm hit her like a tidal wave, her body convulsing around your hand. You didn't stop, though, continuing to fuck her with your fingers until she was begging for mercy. Only when she was trembling did you pull away, standing up to remove your clothes.

When you were naked, you climbed onto the bed, the new dildo standing at attention. "You've had your fun," you said, your voice a low growl. "Now it's my turn." Her eyes widened at the sheer girth of your chosen method of punishment.

"I…I don't think that will fit," she whined, her lust-blown eyes boring straight into yours.

"Oh, it will. You remember your safeword, correct?" you nibbled down her neck as you settled between her legs.

"Yes," she moaned, her back arching against you.

"What is it?"

"Cl…clementine," she stuttered, her body wiggling and writhing beneath you.

You nodded as you slammed into her without preamble, her body accepting you with ease. She screamed your name, her legs tightening around your waist as you began to move. Each thrust was punctuated with a smack to her ass, leaving her skin stinging and her pussy clenching around you. You knew she liked it rough, she was addicted to the pain, but you were going to give her more than she had bargained for tonight.

This was your domain, and she had forgotten her place. You were going to remind her, over and over again, until she was nothing but a quivering mess beneath you. Until she understood that no matter how much she tested you, she would always be yours to command, to punish, to pleasure.

You slammed into her, the sound of your hips slapping against her filling the room. The dildo stretched her to her limits, each inch driving deeper until she was crying out for you to stop. But you didn't. You knew she could take it, knew she craved the pain that came with your passion. The bulge from the tip of the toy poked out her abdomen with every thrust, you pressed down on her stomach where it was appearing, causing her to arch further into your touch.

Her moans grew louder, more desperate, as you picked up the pace. You watched the way her body moved underneath you, the way her breasts bounced with each thrust, and the way her ass cheeks clapped together. You felt yourself getting closer, your strokes becoming more erratic. You reached around, grabbing her chin and forcing her to look at you. "Who do you belong to?" you demanded, your voice a low growl.

"You," she whispered, her eyes glazed over with pleasure.

"Say it louder," you ordered, giving her another smack on the ass.

"I belong to you!" she screamed, her voice hoarse from the moans that had escaped her mouth.

"Beg to cum, amore," you growled in her ear, nibbling down the shell.

"Fuck," she moaned out, her eyes briefly fluttering open before screwing shut again.

"Not until you beg," you reminded her, your voice like a whip crack in the quiet of the room. You could feel your orgasm building, the muscles in your thighs tightening with each powerful thrust. Her cries grew more desperate, her hips moving back to meet yours, pushing herself onto the dildo with a fervor that was almost painful to watch.

"Please," she finally begged, her voice breaking. "I need to come."

You smirked, feeling the power surge through you. "That's all you got, baby?" You taunted, increasing the speed and force of your thrusts. "After all that, the teasing, the videos, this is how you show me you miss me? This is how you show me that you need Papi to make you feel good?" She whined and squirmed beneath you, her body shaking with the effort of holding back her climax. "Beg harder," you whispered, leaning down to bite her earlobe.

Her voice grew more frantic. "Ple…please, Papi," she gasped. "I need to come, I need you to make me come."

"You can do better than that," you grabbed ahold of one of her legs, pulling it over your shoulder as you continued the relentless assault on her swollen, leaking pussy. You leaned down, resting your other hand on her throat, gently applying pressure as you picked up your pace. "I said to beg for it, so fucking beg for it," you whispered, your breath hot against her skin.

Her eyes snapped open, the green orbs locking onto yours, filled with a mix of anger and desperation. "Fuck me harder," she pleaded, her voice strained. "Make me cum, Papi."

The sound of her demanding sent you over the edge, and you slammed into her, the erratic thrusts as you came only spurring her pleasure further. You felt her pussy tighten around the dildo, her walls pulsing as she climaxed hard, her body shaking beneath you. You didn't stop until she was limp, her cries of pleasure turning into breathless gasps.

You continued to work the toy into her, slowly building her back up.

"I didn't give you permission, amore mio," you looked down at her, panting as her chest heaved.

"I know," she panted back, "but I had to make sure you knew how much I missed you."

You couldn't help but smirk at her audacity. She knew how much power she held over you, how much she could push you. "You're going to pay for that," you whispered, your voice a dark promise.

Her eyes lit up, and she bit her bottom lip, egging you on. "Is that a threat or a promise?"

[look-at-the-soul]

Because of you

Modern Tommy Shelby x reader

🎉 @runnning-outof-time I write this little fluffy piece for your celebration! Hope you like this! Congratulations on 4K followers, and also thank you for your kindness, your constant content -which I’m trying to catch up on-, and your little sweet and cheerful messages K! 💖 I’m particularly grateful for your presence in this fandom (the very first blog I remember following and following me back!)

Last but not least, thank you @justrainandcoffee for the absolutely beautiful moodboard!!!!!!! ♥️✨ It’s everything I imagined and even more ✨

A/N: Keep reading until the end, you’ll find a recipe in case this story makes you go hungry 🤭 because in this blog we share photos and recipes, whatever you want 😉 I couldn’t help it but add the grandma element in this one (Grandma’s series) and a little baby fever 👀 @forbidden-forest-witch

Word count: 2,308

“Alright Polly, I’ll deal with the contracts tomorrow morning.”

“Thanks, Ada should be sending you the papers.”

“Enjoy the rest of your holiday already, bye.” He added but didn’t hang up. He heard her laughing at the other end of the line. “For good, have some fucking rest.”

She was just like him, refused to take days off, now she was finally about to embark into a cruise around the Mediterranean.

“Are you home yet?” She asked.

“Yeah, just want to take a bath and go to sleep.” But that was so unlikely since both his children were home for the weekend.

“Give Y/N and the kids a kiss from me.” Polly requested and finally hung up.

Getting a phone call from an known number, Tommy decided he was done for the day, so pressing the red button, he walked into his apartment and immediately the voices coming from the kitchen caught his attention.

Genuine, loud laughs filled the hall and he recognized the unmistakable song in the background.

“I want the pink M&M’s!” Shouted Ruby.

“Why do you like everything that’s pink?” Charlie questioned as Tommy left his keys and wallet by the table.

“Because…” his daughter’s voice mumbled something he didn’t understand. “Y/N can you spin me around again, pleeeease?”

Tommy was about to interrupt the scene going on the kitchen, but he stopped midway as Y/N turned around and leaned forward, Ruby wrapped her arms and legs from behind while Y/N held her feet and slowly twirled around. Making his daughter giggle uncontrollably, her hair flowing.

“Okay now go back to your chair because you’re making the baby twirl inside too.” Y/N joked.

“I don’t know how you do it, when I was pregnant all I could was throw up. You need to take it easy.” Her mother asked in a worried tone.

“Mom I’m fine, besides the baby really wants a slice.” Then, looking at Charlie, she gasped. “Oh Charlie we don’t lick the spatula,” she told him in a calm tone, but it was too late he was done decorating his slice and now half his face was covered in chocolate, “well, what’s a few germs between friends huh?”

As the kids started giggling, she noticed Tommy standing by the door.

She was wearing a black tight dress that looked like a second skin on her, wrapping every curve perfectly and also showing his favorite new feature; the baby bump fully on display. Her hair free, wild long waves covered her back. A few bracelets hanging from her wrist, the Cartier watch he gave her for their first anniversary and her signature smile that took his breath away.

“I didn’t hear you,” wiping her hands with a cloth, she approached her husband. “Missed you.”

His hands wrapped around her back immediately as their lips connected. She tasted like cheesecake and strawberries.

“I missed you too.” He whispered and crunching down, he planted a kiss on her swollen belly. “How’s my little one, eh?”

“Starving and wriggling around.” Y/N answered as Tommy went for another kiss, this time on her lips.

“Eww, dad.” Charlie complained. Embarrassed by their affection.

Ignoring his son’s complain, he went to kiss Ruby on the cheek and then kissed Charlie as well, ruffling his blonde hair in the process.

“Hello Lisa, how are you doing?”

“Trying to make Y/N sit, but she won’t listen to me.” His mother in law welcomed him with a hug.

“Yeah, I deal with that on a daily basis.” He winked at her playfully.

“Hello? I’m standing right here!” Y/N waved at them.

“Oh!” Tommy made an innocent face. “Right, well I didn’t say anything.”

Ruby laughed. “Look Dad! Y/N had some crampings and we made a cheesecake!”

“I think she means cravings right?” He asked Y/N in a low voice, making his wife smile. “We? Are you sure you baked that?”

“Weeeeell Y/N and grandma baked it, but we decorated it!” She defended.

“And we made all slices with different topings.” Added Charlie.

Tommy’s heart melted as he heard his daughter call Y/N’s mother grandma, she and Polly were the closest his kids had.

He had lost his mother a long time ago, but once Y/N stepped into his life everything changed. Lonely nights were filled with love, long and deep talks. Actually, thanks to her, Tommy started to spend quality time with his children; Charlie and Ruby, driving them or picking them up from school, arranging plans on the weekends, even taking them both on holidays.

And Lisa welcomed not only him into her family lovingly, but both his kids as if they were her biological grandchildren.

“So which one is for me?” He asked after clearing his throat, he tried to hide his emotions, but Y/N could read him like an open book and a moment later he felt her hand on his back and her head on his shoulder. “These all look great.”

He spied on the slices with several options.

“Y/N said chocolate marble is your favorite.” Ruby gave him a serious stare.

“That’s about right.” He nodded profusely in her direction, then looking at his mother in law, he asked her; “I hope they didn’t give you loads of work.”

“None of that, they’re amazing kids.” Lisa beamed.

A groan came from the fridge, Tommy went immediately after Y/N worried.

“What is it?”

“We were going to put the pizza in the oven, but I can’t stand the smell.” She made a face.

Tommy decided to check the food, it had been in the freezer but it might be bad.

“This doesn’t smell, Y/N.”

“I just don’t want pizza anymore.” She pouted.

And in that very same moment, Tommy understood this was one of those mood swings caused by the pregnancy. A careful smile spread on his lips as his hands caressed her bump gently.

“Okay, so what do you want for dinner instead?”

By the corner of his eye, he saw his mother in law trying to suppress a giggle, luckily the children were busy with the cheesecake.

“We want tacos.” Y/N batted her eyelashes as she ran one of her hands over her stomach.

“Alright everybody,” he clapped his hands and looked at Charlie and Ruby, “go wash your hands then you’re going to help me prepare some tacos.”

“Yay!”

“Delish.” Ruby shouted and went into the bathroom.

“You’re staying with us right?” He asked Y/N’s mother.

She nodded and felt grateful when Tommy convinced her daughter to go and relax into the living room while they worked on the food.

“Last week she woke me up in the middle of the night because she wanted fried mozzarella sticks with mayonnaise.”

Y/N’s mother laughed as the kids joined them again.

“This is insane, I don’t know how you keep up with all of that.”

“I was worried about her health and the baby of course, but the doctor mentioned everything is perfect, baby is healthy… perhaps it’s the fact that she’s still doing exercise.”

“When I was pregnant I was sick all the time. She didn’t like anything of food I got.”

Tommy seemed to think about it as he started seasoning the beef.

“Actually Y/N felt like that for a few days after we found out, but then she started to eat pretty much everything, everywhere.” He chuckled. “Thankfully it’s been an easy pregnancy so far.”

He had actually been able to live this pregnancy to the fullest, joining Y/N for the doctor’s appointments, cravings, hormonal days, everything, something he didn’t have the chance to do with Charlie and Ruby.

He was enjoying every little change in Y/N’s body, the first time he felt a little kick, he cried actually, touched by the thought of his baby growing inside the woman he loved. They actually wanted to keep the gender a surprise until the baby arrives, it had been a challenge at times, but it was fun.

“Dad where’s the onion?” Ruby showed him the open fridge.

“Oh no, no… can we not add onions please?” Y/N joined them with a wrinkled nose.

“Two days ago you ate a full portion of fried onions, love.”

“This baby,” she pointed at her belly, “wanted onions, not me.”

“Isn’t it the same?” Charlie asked confused.

But Tommy knew better. “No onions then, I’ll start the grill with something else.” He added wanting to please her in every little detail.

As the kids helped Y/N’s mother to wash the avocados, Tommy got rid of his suit jacket.

Y/N stared at his back, wide with broad, toned shoulders covered by a perfectly fitted shirt. She loved to see him wearing daily a three piece suit in a world full of oversized t-shirts and pants.

But when he started rolling the sleeves of his shirt up, she lost it completely.

The sight of him was mouthwatering.

And as Tommy turned around, he caught her staring at her, the fire in her eyes could turn him on in a second.

“Behave, Y/N.” He whispered, disguising his words with a kiss on her hair. “Perhaps we’ll need a babysitter over the weekend?”

He chuckled at the way she nodded eagerly.

“My, my… what would your brothers say if they saw you wearing an apron and cooking?” Y/N’s mother joked, making everyone laugh by her sincerity.

“This is a secret we’ll have to keep, alright.” Tommy winked before checking the steak, he then asked Ruby to -carefully- and under his supervision to add cheese to the tortillas. “Chef Shelby only cooks for very very special people.” He added throwing a kiss to the air.

As Charlie brought the plates over the counter, he started slicing the meat and the explosion of flavors in the kitchen started to smell incredibly good.

Y/N’s mother was in charge of the different sauces, it was a usual now in their fridge as Y/N craved tortilla chips with sauce most of the time.

“Wow… this is Instagram worth it.” Y/N admitted taking a looking over Charlie’s shoulder. As the kid grinned at her, he made sure to serve a tortilla in each plate, to then hand it to his father so he could add the carne asada.

“What a beautiful family.” Y/N’s mother admitted, touched by the way Ruby was caressing Y/N’s stomach, Charlie helping with her food and Tommy looking after all of them.

Leaving the spoon, Tommy wrapped an arm around his loved ones while extending his free hand towards his mother in law.

“What are you doing there? You’re part of this too.”

After they were all released from the tightest hug, it was time to finally enjoy some tacos.

“Now shoo,” Tommy ushered Y/N out of the kitchen to arrange the food.

Gathering a tray, he placed the bowl with the guacamole and around all the tacos he just prepared. Leaving a small space for the sauces.

“Oh my God! This is so good!” Y/N admitted loudly after her first taco bite.

“Dad why does Y/N can eat before all of us?” Ruby asked innocently, confused because she was always told to wait until everyone were ready.

Tommy chuckled while Y/N apologized for not waiting the rest of the family.

“We don’t want to upset the baby, Rube. Right mama?”

Y/N nodded, her mouth was watering at the sight of the rest of the food. “That taco was for the baby, the next one is for me.”

After the kids took their place, Y/N’s mother offered a hand to each kid, seated each by her side. “Now what are we grateful for?”

“For this moment.” Tommy took the lead, feeling ever so grateful to have his loved ones in that room.

“For the cheesecake we’ll eat after dinner.” Charlie grinned.

“For this baby, and for each one of you.” Y/N’s words were followed by a smile.

“For my grand son or daughter!” Her mother joined the joy.

“For my little sister or brother.” Ruby added lastly.

“Now…” Tommy interrupted their hands mind-air as they were all after the delicious food on the table. “There’s something else I’m thankful for, tomorrow morning, we’ve to get up early because,” he was then interrupting by a chorus of groans and a pout from Y/N, “nevertheless… we’re going to visit a couple of houses to move in as soon as possible.”

“What?” Y/N was in shock.

“Love, this baby is coming very soon, we’ll need a bigger place than this apartment, I was thinking of a room for each,” he looked over at both children, “a nursery for the baby and of course a guest bedroom so you don’t have to share Ruby’s bed anymore.” He added looking at his mother in law.

“Oh Tommy!” Y/N’s eyes swelled with gratitude.

“I’ve narrowed the search to five properties so you’ll get to make the final decision.” He explained then.

“A house! Tommy a house!” Y/N couldn’t believe what she just heard.

“With a garden.” He encouraged.

“Can we have a pool?” Charlie asked.

“I want a doll house!”

“Whatever you want.” Tommy added, winking in Y/N’s direction. “Can we eat now?”

As the kids stormed to get their tacos, Y/N took his hand. A growing smile on her lips.

“You never said anything.” Her eyes sparkled.

“I wanted to surprise you.”

“I’m so happy because of you.” Her sincerity wasn’t just in her words, but in her eyes as well.

And deep down, Tommy couldn’t believe that thanks to her, he was able to find stability, loyalty, freedom, love, a family, someone who helped him every day to be a better person.

****

I hope you enjoyed this little story! 🥰 remember, your feedback (in all ways) is always welcome and highly appreciated! ✨ xx

Tacos recipe

Master list

Tag list: @lyarr24 @runnning-outof-time @cillmequick @datewithgianni @cloudofdisney @gretelshelby @garrison-girl-08 @lespendy @onlydeadcells @fastfan @stevie75 @prettylittlehoneyeyesxoxo @esposadomd @forbidden-forest-witch @ange-thoughts @moral-terpitude @elenavampire21 @forgottenpeakywriter @thenattitude @winchestergirl22 @zablife @elk96 @blondie-22 @imichelle-l-rigby @allie131313 @already-broken144 @peakyscillian @babaohhhriley @shelbydelrey @shaddixlife @sloanexx @sydneyyyya @adaydreamaway08 @pono-pura-vida @thomashelbyswife @darleneslane @everythingelseisextra @kmc1989 @mariaelizabeth21-blog1 @lau219 @lauren-raines-x @red-riding-wood

[rainintheevening]

The day 19-year-old Peter Pevensie ships out for the Mediterranean, lieutenant's commission and a COs commendation in hand, he's all tall, golden boy in British khaki with a soft smile and a merry laugh and oddly old eyes.

His socks are hand-knitted, with his initials PWP worked in around the top. He wears a small golden lion on a leather string around his neck, tucked under his shirt alongside his dogtags.

In his kit bag he carries a Bible, new, brown leather, not too big to be jammed in a pocket. The writing on the first page is tidy, a little squared off, no blots: June 1943, Peter, my brother, my captain, my king. We are all held safe between the paws of the Lion. Ephesians 6:10-18.

Tucked in beside that is a small, chunky book of Spurgeon's sermons, with Prof. Digory Kirke in the corner of the flyleaf, and a loose-leaf of paper that Peter uses for a bookmark, precious though it is, covered in his father's barely legible scratch.

There's a hand-bound book of poems, copied by Lucy and collected with several of Susan's watercolours, all trees like old friends and flowers like stars and rolling English hills. It will take months for those pages to stop smelling like home.

Next to that is tucked a sturdy little journal, pencil attached and fat with empty cream-coloured pages. It will take only a week for it to lose its clean smell, and the many words scribbled there will make it fatter still.

Three others are piled in around those—a beat-up hardback novel stripped of its dust jacket and stamped as White Fang, a bright new George MacDonald novel with Be brave, my son, and may the adventure always bring you safely home. Mother penned inside, and another naked hardback identified along its spine as The Aeneid.

Some eyebrows get raised at the extra weight of that library, but Peter is charming and humble, and he'll be the only one to suffer from it anyway.

A little more than two years later Peter Pevensie will return with a captain’s epaulets on his shoulders, and the same soft smile on a leaner, browner face.

He will be wearing an entirely different pair of socks, but still ones that have PWP worked into the stripes along the top.

The leather string will be gone, and so will the little gold lion, folded into a shaking hand, given with a murmured prayer and a kiss pressed to salty fevered forehead, somewhere on the side of an Italian mountain.

The books will be nearly all there. The Bible, wrinkled with water damage, fingerprinted with little dark smears, it's cover scored with a smokey black streak. The poetry, cared for so carefully; the sermons, well earmarked and notated; the MacDonald novel now sans dust jacket, spine cracked, and with grit worked into its creases.

The Aeneid will still be there, though greatly altered thanks to the bullet buried in the upper half of it.

White Fang will be missing, left in the hands of a wildly curious, dream-eyed Arab boy, who will pick up English like a starving man picks up food, and will cry when the Fighting Fifth gets shipped back to Italy. There will be a black and white photograph tucked into its pages— four soldiers surrounding a tall, fair-haired one with a thin dark-headed boy standing high atop his shoulders, arms raised as if he would fall forward into flight, all smiling.

Peter will carry the journal home in his pocket, all muddy and smoky, all smeared with pencil lead and sweat, bloody fingerprints on a few pages, heavy with a thousand and one thoughts, the unburdening of his heart, all ready to be placed in his brother’s hands.

Peter Pevensie will return like his books, with dirt in the creases, a little worn, a little tattered, a little scarred. But his wise old (kingly) eyes... they shine the same way when he smiles, sun in his golden hair.

[one-time-i-dreamt]

not a dream

So people asked me about my grandma's life story and I know I have a post about it somewhere on here but I can't find it so basically - this is what she knows.

She was born either in 1943 or 1944, we think 1943 is more likely. We don't know for sure because in her original documents, somebody wrote 19443, so unless my grandma came back from the the distant future, one of those numbers was added accidentally.

Her mother and father were partisans, and fought the Nazis. While great-grandma was heavily pregnant with my grandma, who was her youngest child, she worked as a carrier of secret messages. They chose her specifically because they thought she had the best chance of survival for being heavily pregnant

On one of her missions, she was caught and beaten within an inch of her life by Ustashe (fascist, ultra-nationalists from these areas) and was only spared because she was heavily pregnant. She feared for her baby's life, but my grandma was a fighter. She was an extreme preemie in the 1940s and she's still alive today.

The Allies evacuated a lot of Dalmatian civilians, among them my great-grandma with all of her children, my grandma being a newborn at that point. They traveled to Egypt by boat.

Since my grandma was so small, no one thought she would survive the trip, so when their ship stopped at a Greek island to resupply, she was baptized by a Greek priest, even though her family wasn't religious.

We don't know for sure, but she was baptized either in eastern orthodox church or Greek orthodox church. Miraculously though, great-grandma and all of her children survived the trip to the refugee camp in El Shatt.

A cousin who was traveling with them lost all of his family, wife and children, a lot of people did not survive the trip. Their boats were bombed, and the camp was bombed a few times as well.

Diseases plagued the camp, most notably typhoid fever. My grandma's older sister barely survived through it but made a full recovery.

She spent a lot of time in the hospital and a foreign, native English-speaking couple attempted to adopt that sister (who was the only blonde and pale sibling in a very dark haired, Mediterranean complexion family) and offered to "take the load off having four children to take care off" from my great-grandma, who vehemently refused them.

A lot of people perished in the camp, but it was their only choice of survival and they were grateful to have it, even though the conditions were harsh. In the end, my great-grandma went back home with all of her children alive and well.

It scarred them, though. The whole family had a lot of trauma due to it. But they all survived.

The hate for Nazis is written in my DNA and blood.

[bluejaysandblackbats]

Bruised Figure

Fandom: DC Comics, Batfam

Summary: Jason aspires to become a figure skater despite obstacles in his personal life.

Chapters: 6/?

Characters: Jason Todd, Bruce Wayne, Catherine Todd, Willis Todd, Dick Grayson, Cassandra Cain

Additional Tags: Figure Skater AU, Chronically Ill Jason Todd, Hurt/Comfort

Chapter Six: Promises

After the doctor ran several more tests, Jason lay curled up in his hospital bed, too tired to speak. It wasn't until late afternoon that a new doctor came to explain something to Bruce in private. Dick tried to keep Jason preoccupied, asking him questions about figure skating. "Do you like the costumes?" Dick questioned.

"Dick?" Jason mumbled.

"What's up?" Dick asked.

"I know you're trying to be nice, but my head hurts... And I don't wanna talk right now," Jason explained before pressing his face into the pillow. Dick bit his lip before speaking. He would've taken offense, but Jason was terribly sick. Dick rubbed Jason's back.

Dick glanced at the monitors and saw that Jason's fever had peaked, but everything else seemed normal. Jason hadn't been this ill in a while. It felt like all his symptoms were so much worse, and it was mortifying to experience his illness while trying to seem okay in front of Bruce. The room stayed silent until Bruce returned, and he asked to speak to Jason alone. Jason turned on his side and opened his eyes. "Hey, how's it going, Champ?" Bruce asked. Jason gave Bruce a weak thumb's up. "Yeah, it's been a tough two days, but you're still hanging in there."

"No more small talk... I can't skate anymore, can I?" Jason questioned.

"I've got good news and bad news. What do you want first?" Bruce questioned. Jason gave Bruce a thumb's down. "Well, you've got a hereditary autoinflammatory disorder called familial Mediterranean fever, which requires you to take medication for life."

"Was there really any good news?" Jason questioned.

"Once this flare-up is over, the medication will prevent flare-ups in the future. They say it's extremely effective... And they said we caught it in time before it could cause damage to your organs," Bruce explained as he rubbed circles in Jason's forehead with his thumb.

Jason didn't react. He couldn't until Bruce told him everything. "You can skate as soon as you're better," Bruce whispered, "I know that's what—." Jason embraced Bruce and burst into tears. "Easy... We've still gotta focus on getting you well again." Bruce patted his back before tucking him into bed. "They'll start you on the medicine today."

Jason smiled and shut his eyes despite the pain he felt in his legs and stomach. "I'm gonna make you proud, Bruce. I promise," Jason whispered. Bruce frowned.

"I'm already proud," Bruce whispered, "You've been so patient with everyone. I don't know if I could've done the same in your shoes." Jason giggled. "What?"

"My feet are too swollen for my own shoes," Jason joked. Bruce smiled.

"Dick's making a run to get smoothies, so you'll have something on your stomach... Think you can stomach a smoothie?" Bruce asked. Jason nodded. "No pressure..."

"Hey, Coach?" Jason asked.

"Yes?" Bruce asked.

"I'm gonna place. I know. You said it doesn't matter, but I'll be great. Wait and see," Jason replied. Bruce grinned.

"You know what? I believe you," Bruce smiled.

Dick returned with four smoothies, and he offered Jason the first pick. Jason took small sips and looked up at Dick. "Are you gonna—?" Jason took a breath and shook his head.

He finally managed to keep his smoothie down. Bruce nearly sighed with relief when he took the empty cup from a fast-asleep Jason. Jason started visibly sweating. Bruce pulled the blankets back and patted Jason's forehead dry with a napkin. "I wasn't a good parent to you," Bruce whispered to Dick.

"You still had some growing up to do... And it's nice to see that you grew up in time to be part of Jason's life," Dick whispered. Bruce frowned.

"I wish I could make it up to you—."

"Be good to him... That's how you can make it up to me," Dick interrupted, "And I'm holding you to it. Our relationship is contingent on how you treat this kid."

Jason covered his face with his hand, still asleep, and Bruce rubbed his back. Dick went to sleep shortly after, but Bruce stayed awake well into the night.

Jason woke up in tears, trying to get out of bed in the dark hospital room. Bruce caught him and tucked him back into bed. "Hey, hey... I've got you. It's okay," Bruce whispered.

"I don't wanna stay here—."

"Jason, I know you're scared, but it's almost over. Once your fever breaks, we can go home," Bruce reassured.

"Can you sleep up here?" Jason mumbled. "Just for tonight, Bruce?" Bruce nodded and lay beside Jason in the hospital bed.

"You know I wouldn't let anything happen to you, right?" Bruce questioned. Jason pushed his face into Bruce's side.

"What if you can't help it?" Jason whimpered.

"Then I'll do whatever I can to fix it," Bruce replied. Jason settled into sleep, and Bruce allowed Jason to stay burrowed into his side until morning. Bruce slept soon afterward.

Jason woke up drenched in sweat, and Dick offered to get him something to drink. Jason sat up. "Feeling sick again?" Dick questioned.

Jason shook his head as the nurse entered the room. "Good morning, Sleepyhead. Feel up to taking your medicine?" she asked. Jason nodded as he took a pill and washed it down with juice. "Thank you... Breakfast should be on its way any minute now."

"Thank you," Jason mumbled. The nurse checked his vitals and left him with Dick and Bruce. "How come you stayed?"

"Don't know... Maybe I was curious to see if Bruce was lying," Dick replied, "And then I saw you... And I felt horrible."

Jason finished his juice. "Are you gonna stay to watch me compete?" Jason questioned. Dick nodded.

"I'll come back for your competition... And if you place, I'll get you a cake," Dick replied.

Jason grinned, and Bruce stirred. "Jason?" Bruce whispered. Jason looked over at Bruce. "Still too hot?"

"No," Jason replied, "But I'm still thirsty."

"On it," Dick volunteered.

The room grew silent. Jason yawned. "Do you know why I wanted to coach you?" Bruce asked. Jason shook his head. "You love figure skating. I could tell by the way you skate. You seem like you were born on the ice... That's why I don't care if you place or not. No one can take this away from you." Bruce tapped Jason's chest.

"I love figure skating... But I love you more," Jason whispered. Bruce smiled.

"I love you too, Jason... So much," Bruce replied.

"Thanks for keeping your promise," Jason smiled. Bruce nodded.

"Always... Jason, you can count on me, okay?" Bruce whispered as he dabbed the sweat from Jason's forehead. "Okay?"

"Yes, Coach," Jason answered.

Bruce climbed out of the hospital bed and stretched before tapping the bed. "Can I check to see if the swelling's gone down?" Bruce questioned. Jason nodded and allowed Bruce to roll up the blankets to look at his ankles. Bruce lifted Jason's leg by the ankle. Jason winced. "I'm sorry. How badly does it hurt?"

"Not as bad," Jason answered.

"They're not as red and puffy, so I believe you. When the swelling goes down enough, we can go home," Bruce whispered. Jason lay on his side. "Thank you for being so good about this... And thank you for letting me take you to the hospital."

"Thank you for keeping your promises," Jason replied.

[ophelialoveshandsomemen]

Got to thinking today, about some cartoons I watched when I was a kid, called the Saints and Heroes collection( great stuff), and how it's all, y'know, saints! St. Bernadette! St. Francis Xavier! St. Nicholas! The Fatima story! Yeay! They're great 30 min. episodes for kids to learn a bit about catholicism's greatest saints! And in the heroes sections, they got Columbus: which is fine, they mainly focus on navigation and how he worked hard to achieve that level of education, lots of catholic stuff floating around in that one. They got Ben-Hur; classic jewish/early christian story, though not real, per se. Really good stuff. Great for christian kids.

Then we got the bloody ODYSSEY?!?!? Like, Greek pagan Odysseus running around the seas, killing monsters and suitors and tricking his way across the Mediterranean, all narrated by a Grandpa Owl?!? telling the story to his grandson owlet?!?! Very princess bride style... super weird in this context. None of the other films are narrated by animals. I'm not saying that kids shouldn't know the story of Odysseus, I'm just saying you can get serious whiplash watching chill saint movies for kids and then coming across The Odyssey, with no catholic connections, ( at least that's easily grasped by a child), getting thrown in the middle of the list and once you're done, brother you feel like you been in a fever dream. It's so bizarrely disconcertingly different in style to the rest of the films, too.

But at least they keep the fact that Odysseus 'slept around'( for lack of a better term), during those years at sea completely absent from the story. So it does have that in it's favour.

Still lots of fun to watch!

[kfedup]

I’ve been sick for a week with some rando virus I picked up taking care of Lila last week when she had it. She tested negative for Covid, Flu A and B and RSV and was feeling much better after 4 rough days.

It’s been a much worse experience for me and I’ve got a Telehealth visit in an hour to hopefully get antibiotics because it’s turned into a sinus infection and I have zero energy to get myself to urgent care. Or to walk the poor dog. Or make myself anything nutritious so I just DoorDash some Mediterranean food - Mujadara, veg soup, a grilled chicken salad, and a fresh carrot and apple juice. That all should get me through tomorrow and Lila will pick up the meds.

Being sick sucks. Grateful for patient clients but also thinking I should prolly consider going back to FT so I have PTO.

I won’t horrify you with what happened in the middle of the night two nights ago when the fever broke other than to say passing out on the toilet is no bueno. Being sick and alone is a special kind of hell.

[dailyworldcinema]

@pscentral event 10: best of 2022 → BEST OF WORLD CINEMA IN 2022

Decision to Leave (2022) dir. Park Chan-wook RRR (2022) dir. S. S. Rajamouli The Quiet Girl / An Cailín Ciúin (2022) dir. Colm Bairéad Badhaai Do (2022) dir. Harshavardhan Kulkarni All Quiet on the Western Front / Im Westen nichts Neues (2022) dir. Edward Berger Close (2022) dir. Lukas Dhont Mediterranean Fever (2022) dir. Maha Haj Before, Now & Then / Nana (2022) dir. Kamila Andini Hatching / Pahanhautoja (2022) dir. Hanna Bergholm

[prairiefirewitch]

Eastern Red Cedar (Essential Herbs for Witches)

*Notes from the Hekate ritual kits that were released October 23'.

Latin name: Juniperus virginiana

Planet: Sun, Saturn

Element: Fire

Parts used: foliage, wood, essential oil

Astrological Association: Leo

Energy: Masculine

Magical properties: Longevity, protection, preservation, strength, wisdom, perseverance, renewal, transformation, balance, connection to the divine through nature, return of stolen goods, defense.

Healing properties: Fever, cough, skin conditions, respiratory issues

Eastern Red Cedar is not actually a true cedar, it’s a juniper, as its latin name, Juniperus virginiana, indicates. Naturalized in Europe, Asia, and North America, Eastern Red Cedar is present in all temperate regions of the northern hemisphere and stretches into parts of the southern hemisphere. This hardy tree has deep roots and tolerates poor rocky soil, salt, heat, and wind, and is drought tolerant. 

Medicinally juniper has been used in bathing, sometimes as a scourge, to alleviate rheumatoid arthritis and to relieve depression symptoms and exhaustion. It’s also been used to heal open wounds. Juniper is warming and pungent and affects the liver and kidneys. Its bitter action stimulates the gallbladder and liver and it aids in digestion. Juniper is also used for respiratory issues, urinary tract infections, and skin ailments like psoriasis and eczema. The warming effect of juniper makes it helpful in breaking fevers. Eastern red cedar is an abortifacient and should not be used by pregnant women. 

Juniper berries have been used to flavor food, beer, and notably gin, and in Ireland the unripe berries are tinctured with whiskey and used as a general health tonic. 

As for juniper’s use in folklore and witchcraft, around the Mediterranean and Aegean seas, it was planted to protect a home from evil spirits and malicious men. It was sometimes built into a new house as a structural beam or to fill cracks between stone to drive away illness and evil spirits. Branches were hung above doors to repel witches. 

Because it is an evergreen, it’s also used in fertility rites and the berries are sometimes used as an aphrodisiac. 

Shamans in Siberia burned and inhaled the smoke of juniper to induce trance, and because of its high thujone contain, it can indeed induce altered states. Thujone does build in the liver over time so care should be taken to limit smoke inhalation to occasional use. 

Burning juniper as a smudge was common in Native American rituals for purification and to cleanse sacred ritual space. Cherokee natives believed that the wood of this cedar held the spirits of their ancestors. In other native ritual practices, it was believed that messages were sent to the Creator when it was burnt ceremonially. 

In Scottish folk magic, juniper is used to ‘sain’ livestock and homes during Beltaine and Samhain. Saining is done by lighting bonfires and driving cattle between them.  These fires would be lit from sacred Neid fires and extinguished home fires would be relit with this fire.  People also hopped over these fires to rid themselves of negative spirits. Juniper (lubhar beinne) was used, and to a lesser extent, mountain ash or rowan (caorran).  The cattle byre was sained, and the lintel over the byre was anointed with wine or human urine. Homes were also sained with burning juniper and “in such quantities to fill the whole house with smoke.”  Juniper would have also hung at windows to ward off witches and evil spirits and to rid the house of pests and diseases.

According to Scottish folklore, juniper needed to be harvested in a particular way, like all magical plants.  It was pulled by the roots, taking 4 branches between 5 fingers while an incantation was repeated.  Today we should probably refrain from yanking bushes from the ground and taking a branch or some berries after asking permission should suffice.  The branches can be dried and burned or the berries can be burned on a charcoal disc, or dip the branch into sea salted water and sprinkle a bit on yourself and your magical working space. 

While we generally think of juniper as a plant of the Sun, it does have older Saturnian associations perhaps because they are very long lived, but maybe also because of their often gnarled wood and spiky foliage, giving them a dark, ominous aspect. Like both yew and cypress trees, Easter red cedar is common in older cemeteries in the southern united states. This may be because its evergreen leaves have come to symbolize ‘eternal life’, but through the ancient Greeks, we have an association with juniper as a plant of Hekate, perhaps because she led the procession of the dead. Through Hekate, it is also associated with Medea, a Hekatean priestess. 

I choose to substitute Eastern red cedar for the yews, cypress, and cedar we traditionally see aligned with Hekate because ERC happens to grow in abundance in my bioregion and has a long history of use in sacred rites across the world. Eastern red cedar is a plant of protection and is excellent for banishing, inspiring courage and strength, purification and release.

[scotianostra]

On May 20th 1747 James Lind began a controlled experiment which demonstrated that citrus fruits could prevent scurvy

Lind was born in Edinburgh in 1716, in 1731 he registered as an apprentice at the College of Surgeons in Edinburgh and in 1739 became a surgeon’s mate, seeing service in the Mediterranean, Guinea and the West Indies, as well as the English Channel.

While serving as surgeon on HMS Salisbury, on this day in 1747 Lind carried out experiments to discover the cause of scurvy, the symptoms of which included loose teeth, bleeding gums and hemorrhages.

Lind selected 12 men from the ship, all suffering from scurvy, and divided them into six pairs, giving each group different additions to their basic diet. Some were given cider, others seawater, others a mixture of garlic, mustard and horseradish. Another group of two were given spoonful's of vinegar, and the last two oranges and lemons. Those fed citrus fruits experienced a remarkable recovery. While there was nothing new about his discovery - the benefits of lime juice had been known for centuries - Lind had definitively established the superiority of citrus fruits above all other ‘remedies’.

In 1748, Lind retired from the navy and went to Edinburgh University to take professional qualifications. In 1753, he published 'A Treatise of the Scurvy’ and in 1757 'An Essay on the Most Effectual Means of Preserving the Health of Seamen in the Royal Navy’, which threw much light on the appalling living conditions and diet of seamen. In 1758, he was appointed physician to the Naval Hospital at Haslar in Gosport where he investigated the distillation of fresh water from salt water for supply to ships.

In 1763, Lind published work on typhus fever in ships and in the 1768 publication 'An Essay on Diseases Incidental to Europeans in Hot Climates’ he summarised the prevalent diseases in each colony and gave advice on avoiding tropical infections.

Lind died in 1794 in Gosport.

Although the importance of Lind’s findings on scurvy were recognised at the time, it was not until more than 40 years later that an official Admiralty order was issued on the supply of lemon juice to ships. With this, scurvy disappeared almost completely from the Royal Navy. To me this showed the indifference that the navy placed on the wellbeing of their charges.

[girlactionfigure]

⚪ Fri morning - ISRAEL REALTIME - Connecting to Israel in Realtime

Erev (before) Shabbat - Parshat (Torah Portion) Shlach - Numbers 13:2 - Moses sends twelve spies to the land of Canaan. 

▪️A HERO SOLDIER HAS FALLEN.. Eyal Shynes, 19, from Kibbutz Ofer, in battle in Gaza.  May his family be comforted among the mourners of Zion and Jerusalem, and may G-d avenge his blood!

▪️CABINET APPROVES.. Finance Minister Smotrich’s measures against the Palestinian Authority to reduce payments that route to terrorists and terror families AND approve the legalization of 5 Israeli towns built in strategic locations on Israeli territory in Judea-Samaria - Avitar, Sde Ephraim, Givat Assaf, Hatz and Adorim.

One of the decisions in the cabinet:  Denial of Palestinian Authority (civil) powers from Area B, prohibition of construction in areas classified as B-areas without Israeli construction permits, as is the case in C-areas. This means that anyone who builds in area B without a permit according to law will have their house destroyed.

.. Related: The government is expected to approve on Sunday the establishment of a new town in the Negev named "Tala" with a focus on charedi housing.

▪️US MOVES SHIPS TO EVAC.. The US is ready to evacuate its citizens from Lebanon if fighting escalates between Israel and Hezbollah and amphibious assault ships have been moved to the Mediterranean Sea and stationed near Lebanon to be ready for evacuation.

▪️HUMANITARIAN MOVE.. 68 sick and injured children, along with their companions, were transported today through the Kerem Shalom crossing for medical treatment in Egypt.

▪️WEST NILE VIRUS SPREADING.. 81 people have been diagnosed with West Nile fever, most of them from the central region of the country (Tel Aviv area).  Disease spreads by mosquito, dangerous to very young and elderly.  In areas with mosquitoes, use repellent.

▪️IDF FIRE AREAS.. training through the weekend with live fire in IDF training zones - AVOID those areas.

▪️REGIONAL NEWS - - Algerian authorities have confirmed a massive deployment of Libyan troops on their border.  “Give back our land, or we will take it by force”, the Libyan army issues an ultimatum to Algeria. 

▪️BITUACH LEUMI DECREASE?  Because of the increase in life expectancy: starting in 2025, the monthly pension allowance will decrease by 0.5%, and in life insurance policies it will decrease by 1%. The reduction will only apply to those who retire in 2025 and beyond. (Calcalist)

▪️CAR BOMB - HERZLIYA.. assumed criminal or mafia related.  Details unclear if 1 killed, 1 injured or just 1 severely injured.

♦️COUNTER-TERROR OPERATIONS.. overnight in Janata, east of Bethlehem.  This morning arrests in Tulkarm.

⭕ HEZBOLLAH ROCKETS at Northern Towns x 4 rounds.

⭕ HAMAS fires ROCKETS at aid station, where they were letting sick children through, Kerem Shalom.

⭕ SHIA MILITIAS CLAIM BALLISTIC MISSILES FIRED at HAIFA.  No such attack known.

⭕ GUNFIRE FROM TULKARM AT BAT HEFER.. overnight, described as “heavy fire”.

[unhelpfulfemme]

book ask: 3, 4, 12

I'M SORRY THIS IS SO LONG :( Anyway, this post was for my book ask, everyone else reading it feel free to join in!

3. What were your top five books of the year?

Hoo boy, if I were perfectly honest they would all be Lymond Chronicles books. Those books are PERFECT, they literally have everything I've ever wanted: operatic drama AND Ocean's 11-style competence porn AND meticulously researched historical battles AND a morally grey manipulative messy depraved bisexual protagonist who ends up breaking down into a puddle of mental health issues at several points AND really well-rounded strong female characters. However, for fairness's sake, I'm going to pretend that I can only put in one book in a series, so here goes:

Pawn in Frankincense by Dorothy Dunnett (Lymond Chronicles book 4/6) - I only read this at the beginning of the year and I've already reread it twice. It has all the content warnings, the lushest writing you'll ever see, and it will make you fall in love with it and then break your heart. Two bisexual Scottish noblemen, one of which is Depraved and the other one Repressed and Catholic, travel the Mediterranean in search of the bastard child of one of them, which is held hostage by a sadistic knight Hospitaller. They are accompanied by a maybe-sister of one of them (it's a mystery if they're related and how!!) and a perspicaceous fifteen-year-old girl who can't be convinced to leave even though everyone agrees it's inappropriate for her to be there. As everyone around them dies in increasingly gruesome ways and everything starts feeling like some kind of orientalist fever dream, they bicker constantly due to their shitty personalities and the mounting UST between several of them. The main draw of this series as a whole is that most of the characters are simultaneously manipulative cunning chessmasters and very mentally ill, and you are left wondering (alongside their friends and family) whether their current breakdown is part of some elaborate byzantine plot or if they're just genuinely losing their mind <3

Prince's Gambit by C.S. Pacat (Captive Prince book 2/3) - it maintains a laser-sharp focus on the characterizations and character dynamics (and the characters have many layers to unpeel) while rolling out a pretty twisty and well-constructed military/political plot in the background. Also full of lush, sensorial writing and sordid personal drama, just as I like it <3

The King's Shield by Sherwood Smith (Inda tetralogy book 3/4) - literally the emotional payoff of the previous two books, as this series follows a group of military school friends as they grow into their aristocratic roles and here they finally meet up after having spent a book and a half apart. Amazing nuanced and realistic exploration of how growing up in a very militaristic, macho, almost proto-fascist society impacts various types of personalities, amazing unique and detailed worldbuilding that makes you fall in love with the local culture (despite the almost-fascism), complex realpolitik, amazingly lovely and realistic depictions of healthy male friendships, a subplot about defending a castle from an invasion that's harrowingly historically realistic AND makes you realize the practical utilities of why the culture is The Way It Is. MORE PEOPLE SHOULD READ THIS SERIES IT HAS 8 FICS ON AO3 FOR CHRIST'S SAKE!

The Player of Games by Iain M. Banks (The Culture book 2/10) - wide-scope heavily left-leaning reflections on various properties of culture and society and its purpose and a very... literary fiction-esque approach to characterization, almost, smack in the middle of a book that hinges entirely on sociological storytelling. Very cool mix! And the plot is, just like I like it, filled with cool twists and moves within moves within moves, so it's not like you'll get suffocated by plotless philosophical considerations of the Evil of Imperialism - it's still a really exciting, fairly plotty book!

Memory by LoisMcMaster Bujold (Vorkosigan Saga book 10/16... I think? The numbering of these books is Complicated, okay?) - This is a series that's like 80% fast-paced madcap plotty fun but the characters feel like icebergs in that you get constant hints of the 70% that's below the surface. This book is a cut above the rest because it leverages the gradual buildup and reader goodwill accumulated over the previous 9 books and uses it to swerve into a character study of the protagonist, his flaws, how they were shaped by his environment, and his deeply-seated mid-life crisis while ALSO delivering a decently fun mystery plot.

4. Did you discover any new authors that you love this year?

Absolutely! Technically I discovered Dorothy Dunnett last year, since that's when I started my first read of Lymond, but I finished it this year and am on my second reread currently so I think it counts.

C.S. Pacat is another new favourite - he had Dunnett as a major influence but I feel like they're two very different beasts in many respects - Pacat's writing is less chaotic and more deliberate in its exploration of the characters' inner lives. Dunnett's characters feel like deranged children screaming in the back of the car (in the most deliberate and best possible way), while Pacat's feel like fine, carefully constructed clockwork. Dunnett also embeds her characterization in a sprawling complex plot that can be compared to something like Game of Thrones, Pacat leaves the plot in the background (although it's still complex enough!) and hones in on the character dynamics.

12. Any books that disappointed you?

I am gonna get shit from the Beloved Mutuals for this I think but I HATED The Goblin Emperor by Katherine Addison. I hated it so much, and I had heard so much hype about it before I read it. Like, I literally have a bunch of notes with evidence of it botching literally every aspect of writing/storytelling that I consider important, it's fascinating to me in how I am convinced of it doing literally everything wrong and yet it's so popular? Like I consider it worse than ACOTAR, and I was even thinking of writing up a long post dissecting what I consider are all its flaws, but so many people on here seem very attached to it and I wouldn't like to ruffle any feathers.

Honourable mention to The Secret History by Donna Tartt - technically I'd read it over 10 years ago but I remembered nothing from it so this year I did a reread because a person whose tastes I respect a lot heaped lavish praise on it. But I also hated it and thought it was a fake-deep book for people who like nonsense fake-deep Facebook quotes and Old Money Quiet Luxury (tm) aesthetic boards :S