#plum foiled

[themonkeespaw]

God bless Thai food.

[tanuki-kimono]

Majestic black ground furisode depicting birds flying over hazy distant mountains covered in all seasons plants (cherry blossoms, peonies, maple leaves, chrysanthemums, plum blossoms).

It also presents poems scattered all across (the gold foil has seen much better days...)

[punk-in-docs]

🕸️ Pretty Girls Make Graves 🕸️

Eddie x Pencils - 🎃 Halloween 🎃one shot

2.7k words

Summary: pretty much what it says on the tin. Halloween one shot with our dearest Eddie x Pencils. Enjoy. Pure fluff. A tiny suggestion of smut at the end. Inspired by this lovely photo set & this prompt post that got me off my ass to write again.

Also another shoutout to the gorgeous @tvserie-s-world who made this amazing Eddie x Pencils edit that I’m still gooey over. 🖤

“So, what brings you to my dark and creepy neck of the woods?”Came a cocky taunt as soon as the trailer door swung open after your knock.

It’s usual rusty-screeching melody preceding its occupants flirty remark. The sound of the Smiths comes slithering out the creaking door behind him. The tape you bought that got lost in the avalanche of both your cassettes that slide and slip, congregate on his passenger seat.

He will not smile for anyone. And pretty girls make graves.

The lanky shadow of your boyfriend cuts across the warm yellow glow of the lights that slant out the doorway behind him. His costume makes you grin. Sheer moronic love.

You stood halfway up the steps. Candles flickering and throwing dozy pools orange in Jack-o-lanterns across the toes of your boots. They’re all wonky and have imperfect slanted mouths and jagged eyes. Loping together on the uneven porch steps. Fat orange gourds all drunk with gravity.

The very same pumpkins you’d helped him carve a week ago, after a misty morning weekend trip to Merill’s pumpkin farm. Eddie had the rather dastardly and determined habit of choosing pumpkins bigger and heavier than his actual van tires. You ended up with so many.

Your kitchen has smelt like squelchy pumpkin innards all week. You’re still finding seeds cropping up under the toaster or in the corner of the cabinets. As per Eddie’s way with most things, It wasn���t exactly a neat process.

You can’t help but laugh at his greeting too.

“I distinctly remember making plans to invade the spooky neck of your woods tonight, my little death trap.” You smile as you edge your way up the sloping steps. Holding a huge pumpkin shaped bucket of candy in your arms. The contents rustle as you move.

Everyone’s touting pumpkin buckets tonight. Driving in and even on the street back home, you saw a load of elementary kids walking around the park in their costumes. Ghosts in bedsheets. Aliens. Bats. One very ambitious papier maché pumpkin. Superhero’s. Clowns. Home made astronauts clad in crinkly tin foil and bulbous helmets. All wandering with an adult in tow and buckets clutched in their hands, ready to be filled.

You opted for a simple witch costume. Stripy tights and your dark thrifted docs. A black dress with a little cape tied around your shoulders and a witches hat. You applied dark purple-plum lipstick and dark smudgey grey eyeshadow, and liner. Your eyelids glitter like purple constellations. He finds stars to gaze at so often in those pretty eyes.

Eddie had gone for an Alice Cooper inspired look. Top hat. The dripping dark eye makeup that you’re amazed he managed all on his own. Hair it’s usual long rocker mess. Gothic black and lots of it. A huge goth belt with studs and buckles. You spy a cane grasped by his side too. A fake toy snake looped around his neck. Just like the man himself. He really does go all out.

The fringe benefit being he looks hot as hell to your eyes.

“You’ve got me under your spell, O’ bewitching one. How could I possibly resist.” He opened his arms out to you as you came to the last step.

“Bet you say that to every witch who shows up at your door on hallows eve.” You smile. Unashamedly grab the snake that’s looped around his neck and reel him in by it.

“Only ones who bought me jolly ranchers.” He preens. He can see the multi coloured hue of the wrapped candy in the huge bowl you’re carrying.

At the same time, he plucks the flimsy pointed witches hat off your head so the brim doesn’t get in his way. You unconsciously move towards the same goal together. It’s spooky. Sometimes it’s like you have the same brain. You’re one entity mashed together in a frenzy of melding hearts, music mania and relentless adolescent infatuation.

He lopes forwards and gladly slots his slanting smirk onto yours. Tasting of orange sweet candy corn and beer. His thumb and forefinger meet on your chin. Your hand slid for his neck. Fingertips along his jaw as you share a giddying kiss. You mouth at the plushness of his lips. He does the same to you.

You pull back before he makes you swoon dangerously down these steps. His kiss should come with a warning sign; dangerously addictive metal head. May possess body and soul.

You can tell already that you’ll have to wave goodbye to this lipstick. It’s now smeared all around your mouth and most of his. Now he looks like Alice Cooper doing nine to ten in Arkham Asylum.

“Hello.” You beam. Rubbing smudged purple off his lips. Vamptastic Plum the colour name.

“Hi.” He smirks like a lunatic. End of his nose rubbing into yours where he gazes at you.

He does it a lot. It’s honestly so lovesick you should be kinda nauseated.

When you’re studying. Watching a movie. Eating popcorn or pizza. Every now and again he’ll just rest his chin in his hand and smile all warm and stupid at you. Cheeks bunched and crows feet at his eyes. Even when you have paint flecked across your forehead. Or pizza cheese slung in a string across your chin. Or when you’re frowning at your fingers when you smear your nail drying polish. He loves watching you just be near him.

It always ends the same way. You’ll feel his eyes burning their fond cinnamon gaze into you. You’ll turn and meet his eyes. And that smile lopes even wider. He’ll loop a pinky though yours and kiss the back of your hand. Or your forehead.

“Permission to enter your lair?” You seek.

“Thought only vamps had to ask permission to come in?” He flirts with you. Eyes on your mouth again. Your lips all kiss bruised makes him ache. In fact, makes another sort of serpent twitch in his jeans.

“Misdirection. I am actually a vampire. The witch outfit is a clever disguise to work my cunning way into unsuspecting trailers.” You raise your brows naughtily.

He grins. “Clever subterfuge.”

He slips aside from the door to let you come in. Another kiss pressed to your lips before he lets you sidle on past him. He hangs your witches hat on the coat rack with his spare jacket and Wayne’s denim.

“Need me to park your broom?” He jests.

“Left it in the car with my black cat. You’re safe.”

“How many more witchy jokes could we stretch this out too?”

“I reckon I’ve a few left knocking around…” you guess. Placing the bucket of candy on the kitchen counter. Hopefully Eddie doesn’t pilfer the whole lot before Wayne’s home. You hope he leaves his uncle a treat or two. And doesn’t scarf the lot like a damn seagull.

This trailer hugs you any time you enter. You thought that when you and Eddie started dating. And you still think it now. Capital H home. This place. Filled with his and Wayne’s memorabilia. And a few more other things tonight;

You haven’t seen your boyfriend as much of late. He’s been out hitting the teenage party circuits with his metal lunchbox. Making a healthy chunk of change by the looks of it. He’s strung up plenty of decorations to help pep this place up with Halloween spirit.

There’s pumpkin paper garlands arced in loops up high. Orange and black twisting streamers over the mug shelves. Fake rubbery bats hanging down from the kitchen island cupboards. Dancing skeletons hanging on the little spare space the walls have to offer. The coffee table is cleared of its usual junk and absolutely heaped in candy and snacks.

Butterfingers. Butter popcorn. Pretzels. Red vines. Cheez balls. Mallomars. All of which happen to be your favourites. He has two cold beers side by side. And a fat tight joint sits waiting in the ashtray too.

He’s even bought those fake filmy cobwebs to spread in a few places with fake plastic spiders - to join in with the real ones dusted around in forgotten corners.

All your tensions melt down right to your toes. All is right with the world. Halloween night. No school tomorrow. And Eddie. And a whole uninterrupted night of movies and bliss. You’ve lost count of the amount of times a movie night has ended up getting dirty on his couch. Tape flicking to the end whilst you’re attached lip to lip with wandering hands.

You sigh gladly as you stand to toe off your shoes. Putting them aside. Heat slides into your stomach all squirly and scorching as he stands from behind you and his hand reach around and skilfully undo the cape around your shoulders.

“Let’s get you comfy my temptress of the night. Beer?” He seeks. Throwing your cape over his shoulder. It lands nowhere even near the coat rack.

“Yes please my lovable nightmare.” You sass. You walk over to the couch. Spying an absolute mound of VHS’s ready to go by the TV. The colour seemed to dip in and out sometimes. The set was old. Eddie had to whack the side sometimes to get it to behave. You find it more endearing than a set that worked seamlessly.

You pluck pieces of popcorn out the bowl and throw them onto your tongue. Crunch them down as you sit with your knees tucked under you.

Eddie kills the music and slings himself down next to you on the lumpy couch. Frame squeaking and rattling as he settles.

“Damn. You got a great selection, Munson. What did you do, bribe Harrington with your soul to score all this?” You remark as you peer at the videos on the coffee table.

1941 Wolfman. Christopher Lee’s Dracula. The Fog. Halloween. House on Haunted Hill. And Friday the 13th. You loved old school movies as much as he did. The old swelling suspense of a good black and white.

“Nothin major. Just a little selling of my body and charms. Deviant sexual acts. Just so you know I’ll have raw knees for a month.”

“Mm you filthy slut.” You hush. Impressed.

“Finest slut in the Midwest.”

“So I’ve heard.” You grin. Leaning in to kiss him. Seemed too infeasible not too. He cups the back of your head as you do. Keeping you close as he dares. Sweet kiss like icing sugar dusted across your lips.

He makes a small ‘mmm’ noise before you pull back.

“Besides. I consider The Fog a film that makes me think fondly of our very early courtship.” He remarks.

Snoopy bed shorts. A tin of Campbells. His lunatic escapades of climbing in your window late at night.

“And, well, only the best for you, Pencils.” He grins.

You tilt your head. A sigh caught in your throat.

“You must’ve busted your ass to get all this. You didn’t need too. You know I don’t need all this. I’m happy just to watch crappy reruns with you and order a pizza.” You tell him.

Concerned about the cash he would’ve laid out for tonight. The decor. The snacks. The primo shit from Rick. All must’ve cost a pretty penny.

“You’re worth every damn cent. When you’re dating a spooky awesome girl you gotta put in the ultimate spooky effort.” He tells you. Gripping his beer bottle and leaning back.

You clink your beer bottle to his.

“Please tell me you overcharged those meathead jocks for your product.”

“…. And then some.” He winks.

That’s my boy. You couldn’t be more proud.

“I’ll drink to that.” You murmur. Taking a pull on your cold beer. Cool heaven sliding down your throat.

“Thanks to Tina’s party last week, I mean, man, I scored big time. So many stoners invited. Walk in the park.” He smiled.

That deserved a kiss. Which you gladly give.

“Kinda love you for that.” You suppose. But there were no two ways about it - you were completly head over heels for him.

“Good to know.” He supplies. Hand rubbing your back.

“We better put a video on before I maul you.” You threaten with a great deal of flirt. Dragging your purple painted fingernails down the front of his top.

“Mmm kinky.” He grins. Leaning over to press a spitty kiss to your cheek. Before diving for the pile of VHS.

“Ok, roughly how long do you wanna argue about which one we watch first?” He seeks.

You narrow your eyes. Taking a sip back of your beer. “Depends if I win or not.” You look at him all cunning.

“House on haunted hill?” He bargains. Crouching and pointing the VHS at you.

“Don’t point that thing at me.” You smile. Stealing another handful of popcorn. Eating it with a grin.

Let the bickering commence…

~

The credits rolled to your third film of the night. Halloween the 1978 original. Orange twinkle lights flicker in the warm yellow lights near the kitchen. The rest of the trailer in dozy darkness. The sounds of kids trick or treating and laughing, batter against the trailer side in the night air.

You magnanimously let him pick the film. Maybe you’re growing soft in your old age.

This found you and Eddie slumped down together on the ratty couch. Limbs tangled. Joint smouldering in the ashtray. Verdant smoke in the air. Beer bottles empty. Only popcorn kernels left in the bottom of the bowl. The snacks had been pilfered and pinched at your leisure.

Eddie was pressed down onto you like a lanky weighted blanket. Snoozing happily with a belly full of beer and cheez balls. Socked feet hanging off the end of the couch. Hands slung all over you like a gangly octopus. He’s currently letting out content little breathy snores with his head cushioned against your boobs. A little spit of drool by the side of his mouth.

He’d nodded off sometime around Michael Myers fifth victim with the boyfriend and the blonde pigtails. You’d been carding your fingers through his hair. Scratching his scalp. Made his eyes flick back in his head.

You swear he was one step away from twitching his foot in contentment like a canine at the work of your hands. Made his brain short circuit.

More so when he was on Indica. Just the kinda hit he needed for a slow sleepy and spooky night in. You can’t deny you’re fighting the effects of it yourself.

A couple of puffs. Eyelids drowsy. Your limbs feeling like cotton stuffed pillows. Indolent and slow. And now you’ve got your perfect metal head keeping you pressed down.

“Guess the party circuit wiped you for six, huh babe?” You smile. Thumbing his cheek. He mumbled something incomprehensible.

You shift your leg up. Which tumbles his knee more into your lap. He snuffled. Nuzzling his head further onto you. His breath was all sugary red vines, and fruity weed.

You kept on stroking his hair. Leaning forward to nuzzle a kiss to the crown of his messy hair. Apple shampoo and that lost tang of American spirits.

“Edward?” You ask.

You get a sleepy, sticky gurgle from him.

“I’ve got a really nice bra and panties set on under this dress, y’know.” You whisper at him.

Another mumble. You smile and rest your cheek on his warm head.

“You’ll have to let me move to put the next movie in, babe.” You tell.

“No. S’comfy.”

Then you hear him grumble. “Boobs.”

“Great boobs.”

You chuckle. Honestly.

“Knock yourself out. Munson. You smile.

Shifting down to let sleep come and gently take you too.

“Oh, and Happy Halloween.” You add. Letting your eyes close. Letting the static at the end of the video ebb you softly into dreams. Along with the sound of wind kindly rattling the roof. Brushing along the walls outside. All the trick or treaters have been coerced indoors. Safe inside with their candy spoils.

Much later on. You hear the rustle of clothes and feel the heat of his breath. The warmth of his limbs leeches off you when he moves. Coldness sneaks in.

You wake with bleary-sticky eyes to those brown ones staring back at you. Cheeks all flushed. The tell-tale sign of a tented zipper bursting at his crotch.

That dripping eye make up looks smeared and downright dangerous. He looks absolutely ravishing and you suddenly shake off your tiredness to see him looking so good like this.

“You said something about a bra, Pencils…” he smiles. “Be a shame not to show it off now-“ He beams. Waggles his brows.

“Heard that did you?” Your brow crooks.

Happy Halloween, indeed.

This is for everyone; but especially for @tvserie-s-world @lunatictardis @heyndrix @callmeloverr @joequinnswhore @atabigail @thewrathoffemalerage @lurkingprincess @songforeddiemunson @palomahasenteredthechat @babybluebex

[harrywavycurly]

Southern Comfort Part 13: Till the Cows Come Home

Masterlist: here

CW: Mentions of loss (death)

Tag List: @wedontknowherorhimorthem

A/N: The time has come for you to try Harry’s baking and he is fully panicking and loses all his manners but he does learn more about you in the process, enjoy✨

Harry nervously twirls his gold S ring around his pinky finger as he waits for you at a little picnic table that’s situated on the back patio of a little cafe near the beach you mentioned you like to take your walks on. He doesn’t exactly know what’s making him so nervous, it could be just the fact he’s about to spend the afternoon with you or that you’re going to give him your opinion on his sad attempt at baking that consists of a batch of brownies he has safely packed in a plastic container sitting on the bench next to him, but if he’s being honest with himself it’s a good mixture of both. He looks at his phone that’s on the table to check the time before he lifts his head and looks around the crowded space, it’s not until a waiter moves out of the way and heads back into the cafe that he sees you and his face instantly breaks out into a grin.

“Hey honey.” Your voice is music to his ears as you maneuver your way around a few people while Harry stands up and walks to the front of the table so he can greet you.

“Hello love.” You smile as you place your purse on the table so you can wrap your arms around Harry’s middle for a hug. His arms wrap around your shoulders bringing you closer to his chest making him chuckle as his chin finds its usual spot right on top of your head. Harry loves how it feels to have your arms wrapped around him, he also enjoys the fact you fit so nicely against him and he thanks the heavens that you’re also a hugger.

“You look cute sugar you meeting someone special?” Your tone is only half teasing as you pull away just a bit so you can look up at him after giving him a little squeeze. Harry is dressed in a black short sleeved button up that he’s opted to keep undone revealing just a solid white tank top that has a pair of sunglasses tucked into the collar and a pair of cream colored shorts, a look that’s not as casual as the jeans and t shirt you’ve seen him in. Meanwhile you are in a pair of shorts and a shirt that says “not my first rodeo” in bold red letters.

“Eh just someone who’s going to rip my baking abilities to shreds.” You laugh as he looks down at you with a slight pout.

“Don’t worry I’ll be gentle.” You reassure him as you drop your arms from his middle making him reluctantly remove his from your shoulders so the two of you can take a seat at the table. Harry smiles as you place your purse in your lap and he can’t help but stare as you lick your lips while you begin rummaging around in your bag. “Here we go.” You grin as you take what looks like a folded piece of tin foil out and place it on the table.

“That doesn’t look like banana bread.” You roll your eyes at Harry’s words as you gently unwrap the foil to reveal a single chocolate brownie and he can tell just by looking at it that it’s going to put his to shame.

“I figured banana bread was something we needed to make together so,” Harry feels his heart actually feel like it skips a beat at the mention of the two of you baking together. “I thought I’d just make the same thing as you.” You just smile at him as you push the brownie closer to his side of the table.

“You know what I hear helps someone judge a persons baking?” He asks with a smile tugging at the corners of his mouth while you just raise an eyebrow at him. “When they tell you more about themselves.” He watches you place your bag on the bench next to you before you lean forward so you can rest your forearms on the table, he notices that you make sure your elbows are hanging off and that makes him smile because of course you use proper table manners.

“What do you wanna know sugar plum?” You ask as Harry finds himself absentmindedly leaning forward in an attempt to get closer to you, his forearms and elbows on the table.

“Everything.” He doesn’t mean to say it, but once it slips past his lips there’s no taking it back and when you just clasp your hands together and turn your head to look at the beach he takes it as a sign that maybe you’re about to tell him your life story which he would be delighted to hear because he truly does want to know everything about you.

“You ever lose someone that makes the only place you’ve ever known to feel like home…all of a sudden not feel like much of anything besides just a place to live?” Your words take Harry by surprise, he can hear the slightest undertone of sadness and he wishes you weren’t still facing the ocean so he could see the expression on your face.

“I can’t say that I have.” He replies and you let out a quiet sigh.

“That’s good because I’m not gonna lie to you honey it kinda sucks.” You finally look back at him and he wants nothing more than to reach over and grab your hands but he doesn’t want to cross any boundaries so he just gives you a reassuring smile. “I lost my granny four years ago and that’s the reason I’m here.” Harry just nods as you look down at your hands and he sees a small smile form on your face when your eyes land on the ring you wear on your index finger, a simple silver band with an initial engraved on it. “She used to tell me all the time that Texas was big but the world was a hell of a lot bigger and that I needed to see it.” You smile as you talk about her and Harry can tell she meant a lot to you just by the way your face lights up at the mention of her.

“She sounds lovely.” Harry can’t help himself this time as he reaches over and gently takes one of your hands in his so he can give it a squeeze.

“She was wonderful and now don’t get me wrong I love my momma till the cows come home but my granny was my bestfriend.” You laugh at Harry’s visible confusion at the phrase mentioning cows but he doesn’t say anything and lets you continue on. “We were like two pigs in a blanket and when I lost her I just didn’t feel like I had anything keeping me there anymore and I knew she’d just be mad as all get out if I didn’t at least try and see the world.” You let out a sigh as you look down at your hand that’s still in Harry’s. “So about a year later I bought a plane ticket and here I am.” Harry gives your hand another gentle squeeze making you look up at him.

“Did she teach you how to bake?” He asks trying to lighten the mood of the conversation just slightly and you just nod and point with your free hand to the brownie that’s sitting in front of him.

“That’s her county fair blue ribbon brownie recipe so if you don’t like it then I’m afraid you just don’t have good taste honeybuns.” He knows you’re joking but Harry can’t help but feel his nerves coming back as he lets go of your hand so he can carefully pick up the brownie that’s in front of him. He’s sure to use both hands so he doesn’t accidentally drop it and he can feel you watching his every move as he brings it up towards his mouth.

“Smells good.”

“Just eat it honey.”

“Don’t rush me I like to take my time.” He doesn’t even need to look at you to know you’re smirking at him because he knows exactly how that little mind of yours took his comment.

He closes his eyes as he takes a bite and the moment the brownie hits his tongue he knows he’s done for. He feels his shoulders slump as his eyes remain closed as an actual sigh somehow escapes him and he swears he’s never tasted anything so delicious in his entire life and he normally doesn’t even care for sweet things. His eyes open as he takes another bite and he sees you just smiling at him and it makes him wonder if this is a common reaction people have when trying your desserts.

“Holy fucking-”

“Language.” Harry can’t even be bothered to be embarrassed by you reprimanding him because he’s too busy taking another bite of the brownie making you just laugh.

“Why’d you only bring one?” Is all he asks as he finally puts the now half eaten brownie back down on the tinfoil. When you reach for it to wrap it back up Harry is quick to pull it away from you making you send him a playful glare. “I’m sorry love but this one is mine and it’s not polite to just take things without asking.” You roll your eyes.

“I wasn’t taking it from your sugar I was just wrapping it back up so you can finish it later.” This explanation doesn’t sit well with him so he picks the half eaten brownie back up and takes another bite out of it.

“Who said anything about saving it for later?” You watch with wide eyes as he talks with his mouth half full and when he opens his mouth for another bite you can’t help but stand up so you’re able to lean all the way over the table and snatch the brownie out of his hands making a frown take over his face as he watches you wrap the remainder of it back up in the foil.

“Lord have mercy Harry you have one decent brownie and all your manners just go out the damn window.” Your words are rushed as you fuss at him and if he wasn’t too busy licking the last remnants of brownie off his fingers he would smile because he loves the way your accent sounds when you’re annoyed, especially at him.

“It’s a bit rude to just snatch a man’s snack away from him like that.” He mumbles as you place the wrapped brownie back on the table but just out of his reach so he’s not tempted to grab it.

“You’ll be fine.” Harry lets out a huff as you raise an eyebrow at him as if you’re waiting for him to tell you something so after a few moments of him staring at you without saying anything you ask, “So what did you think?”

“I think I’m actually a little angry that I only have one of those and not a whole pan.” Harry wishes he was joking but he is being serious, he can actually feel himself getting upset at just the thought of finishing the one brownie you brought him and based on the way you just nod lets him know he’s not the first person to feel this way.

“Well imagine you had six of them okay? And you eat one in the morning thinking nothing of it because you know you have five more then lunch comes around and you snack on another one and after dinner of course you’re gonna have one because why wouldn’t you?” Harry just nods along and leans in closer as you talk and he feels his heartbeat quicken at the thought of running out of the same brownies he’s only taken a few bites of, as your mouth turns downward into a slight dramatic pout. “But then when you do the same thing the next day you realize you won’t have anymore left but it’s too late because you already finished the one you were saving for dessert so now all you have is an empty-”

“That’s enough.”

“You’d be angry wouldn’t you honeybuns?”

“Livid…absolutely livid.”

“That’s why I only brought you one.” You reach across the table and give Harry’s hand a little pat. “I’m glad you liked it.” Harry can tell you’re being sincere because your tone is softer than it just was and he can’t help but return the smile you’re giving him.

“Best thing I’ve ever put in my mouth.” He waits for his words to register in your mind and he’s glad it only takes a few seconds before your leaning your head back and laughing, the kind of laugh that makes your eyes crinkle as you clap your hands together in front of your face. It’s the laugh that Harry thinks is one of the best sounds he’s ever heard.

“Oh sugar I’m so honored.” You dramatically place your hands on your chest as you finally get your laughter under control. “So did you bring me anything?” Harry slowly looks to his left and down at the plastic container sitting next to him and he wants to lie and say no he didn’t make anything but he knows your toes will just start to tingle and he’ll be forced to give them to you anyway.

“I’m sorry in advance my darling.” He mumbles as he picks up the container.

“Wait don’t I get to know something about you?” You question as Harry slides the it across the table towards you.

“What would you like to know?” He asks as you take the lid off the container.

“Everything.” Harry rolls his eyes and chuckles as you try your hardest to mimic him but even you can’t take yourself seriously making yourself laugh.

“Well I’m in a band.” Your eyebrows raise as he reaches into his pocket to pull out his phone. “I’m not sure if you’re familiar with uh One Direction?” You watch him type a few things on it and then he’s handing it to you.

“Oh my heavens y’all are precious.” Harry’s cheeks get pink as you bring the phone closer to your face so you can get a better look. “Is this you? Where are your tattoos? You look so naked.” Harry laughs as you turn the phone around so he can see the screen and sure enough you’re pointing at him.

“That’s me and uh that’s Niall,” he points to the blonde one standing next to him in the photo. “And then it’s Liam and Louis and that’s Zayn.” You just smile and nod as he points each boy out. “But that photo is a little bit after we became a band.” He explains as you hand him his phone back.

���I could’ve sworn I only heard your voice singing that fruit song in Target though?” You ask and Harry rubs at the back of his neck as you reach into the container for a brownie.

“Yes that’s uhm because we are on sort of a break? Or like whatever you want to call it but we are all doing our own things.” Harry looks down briefly as he speaks and when he looks back up he feels his eyes go wide as he watches you open your mouth to take a bite of one of his brownies. “You can’t eat that!” He doesn’t mean for it to come out so loud but he’s glad it did because it causes you to jump slightly making the brownie fall from your hands and land back into the container.

“Harry Edward what the hell has gotten into you?”

“I’m sorry but you just can’t eat these.” He reaches over for the container of brownies but you just smack his hand away making him frown.

“It’s rude to try and snatch a woman’s snack away from her like that.” You say with a glare as you grab another brownie and before Harry can do or say anything you take a bite out of it. He watches you slowly chew and your eyes don’t leave his as you keep chewing for what feels like minutes and Harry feels his face get hot as you look away so you can reach over for a napkin.

“Oh god.” He’s never wanted to just disappear more than he does right now as he watches you try your hardest to keep your face together but he knows, he just knows you put one of the worst things you’ve ever tasted into your mouth and it was something he made.

“Honey what does your sugar container look like?” Your voice is soft and sweet and he imagines it’s the same tone you use in your classroom when talking to one of your students as you wipe your mouth with the napkin after you tried to subtly spit the bite of brownie out into it.

“Uh it’s white with an s on it.” He answers and you just nod as you place the lid back onto the container.

“And what do you keep your salt in?” You ask as you hand the container back to Harry.

“It’s uhm also…in a white container with an s on it.” Harry realizes the mistake he’s made as soon as he’s done talking and you just give him an encouraging smile as you reach over and grab his hands.

“It’s a common mistake sugar it’s okay we can fix it.” He just lets out a huff as he leans his head down so his forehead is resting on your hands that are holding his.

“I just thought they’d taste burnt..or maybe dry…but salty?” You try to hold back a giggle as Harry lifts his head so he’s sitting up and he looks utterly defeated as he glares at the container holding his overly salty dessert. “I didn’t see that one coming.” You just give his hands a squeeze and run your thumbs over his knuckles trying to help him feel better.

“Tell me more about your band.” Harry is glad for the subject change as you give his hands one last squeeze before letting them go. “How long have y’all been on this break thing?” You ask as you dig around in your bag for your chapstick.

“Uhm a few years I-”

“Years? So y’all aren’t getting back together then?”

“I think we will one day.” Harry says with a shrug as you put your chapstick back in your bag, he knows that’s not really an answer but it’s all he has right now.

“What’s a song I might know from y’all?” He smiles as his mind automatically goes to one song in particular that he feels everyone knows, even you.

“Have you heard a song called what makes you beautiful?” The look on your face tells him that it’s not ringing any bells. “You’re insecure not sure what for-”

“Oh my god that’s y’all?” Harry chuckles as your face lights up at the familiar opening line. “That is such a cute song.” You add with a smile as you grab your bag and stand up to get off the bench making Harry raise an eyebrow.

“Uhm where-”

“Let’s take a walk sugar plum.” Harry watches as you grab his container of brownies and shove it into your bag before you hold your hand out for him.

“That’s your hand.”

“It is.”

“Am I allowed to hold it or is this a sick joke because I made saltwater brownies?”

“I’m not that cruel honey.” You wiggle your fingers at him just like you did the very first time he met you in the grocery store. “Come on I don’t bite.” Your voice is teasing but Harry just smiles as he stands up and quickly grabs his foil wrapped half eaten brownie and shoves it into his pocket before taking your hand.

“Lead the way love.” He gestures with his free hand making you laugh as you feel him interlock his fingers with yours.

“Don’t I always?” With that Harry just playfully rolls his eyes as you begin walking towards the steps that lead down to the beach and he’s well aware that even if you didn’t offer him your hand he would’ve agreed to walk on the beach with you because honestly Harry would follow you just about anywhere.

[balkanikabg]

December (Christmas) Menu

I don't know how many of you know this little fact about me, but I am from Bulgaria. Although I live and study in Scotland for the last few years. And because this year I won't be home for Christmas, nostalgia hits me quite hard. That's how this month's delights were created. It's a special menu that is prepared for the Christmas Eve (Except for the Banitsa, which is traditionally made for New Year), all dishes are a must for every bulgarian family. On 24th of december is important all the dishes to be vegan and the dishes have to be an odd number, usually 7 or 9.

This month is 'Bulgarian Christmas Eve Cuisine' month!

11/12 - for Donators ; 25/12 for Patrons

Festive Bread - Pogača or Pitta, as is known in bulgarian, is a type of bread baked in the ashes of the fireplace, and later in modern ovens. When we make the festive bread for 24th, the chef puts a hidden coin in it before baking. It is believed whoever get the coin, will have abundance of luck and money in the upcoming year. This tradition symbolizes the hope for prosperity and good fortune in the upcoming year.

Pumpkin Pie - Tikvenik, as is known in bulgarian. There should be a sweet part on the Christmas Eve table, so life next year will be sweet. Tikvenik is a type of sweet pastry made of rolled phyllo, similar to strudel, filled with sweetened grated pumpkin pulp and baked in an oven.

Vine Sarmi - Stuffed Grape Leaves, sarmi is the most famous traditional Bulgarian dish on Christmas Eve. They can be grape or cabbage leaves stuffed with rice, plums, and spices. (I already made cabbage stuffed leaves before, so I alternated now)

14/12 - for Donators ; 28/12 for Patrons

Mulled Wine - Wine is a big part of Bulgarian culture, almost every family make their own wine at home.

Stuffed Peppers with Beans - These are dried stuffed peppers similar to Sarmi, traditionally stuffed with beans on Christmas Eve, although in some areas in Bulgaria they are stuffed with rice. We also add plums or raisins, which go well with the pepper skin.

Oshav - Dried fruit soup (compote of dried fruits), a super easy soup from different dried fruits. In this dried fruit compote, you can find dried plums, apples, apricots, pears, quinces, oranges. The resulting drink is similar to punch, usually drunk with the dessert.

18/12 - for Donators ; 1/01 for Patrons

Mulled Rakia - Rakia, is the collective term for fruit spirits popular in the Balkans. The alcohol content of rakia is normally 40% ABV, but home-produced rakia can be stronger (typically 50%). (I made a functional Rakia Set once, you can download it HERE)

Banitsa - Is a traditional pastry made in Bulgaria. Banitsa is prepared by layering a mixture of whisked eggs, plain yogurt, and pieces of white brined cheese between filo pastry and then baking it in an oven. Traditionally in Bulgaria, lucky charms are put into the pastry on New Year's Eve. These charms may be written happy wishes on small pieces of paper and wrapped in tin foil. Wishes may include happiness, health, or success throughout the new year (similar to fortune cookies).

Baklava - It was one of the most popular sweet pastries of Ottoman cuisine. Due to our shared history, this dessert is very common in Bulgaria and it's usually prepared to be served on Christmas day.

ALL ITEMS WILL BECOME PUBLIC 4 WEEKS AFTER ORIGINAL RELEASE, YOU CAN FIND THEM ON CURSEFORGE ALL FREE ITEMS!

[mariacallous]

Chicken tabaka is a western Georgian dish where a whole chicken is flattened and pan-fried while being weighed down by another pan or heavy object. The chicken ends up golden brown and crispy on the outside while staying juicy inside. It is so delicious and simple that it has become wildly popular in homes and restaurants across the Caucasus, Central Asia and former Soviet countries.

Tabaka (or taphaka) comes from the name for a Georgian frying pan called a tapa, which is traditionally used to make this recipe. You can make chicken tabaka with any heavy bottomed skillet or cast iron pan, along with something you can weigh the chicken down with, such as a second heavy skillet, a heavy pot or bricks wrapped in foil. You can also make this recipe on a grill by cooking the chicken directly on the grates while weighing it down. This dish is similar to spatchcocked chicken (where the backbone is removed from the chicken), but for chicken tabaka it is common to flatten the chicken by simply cutting down the center of the breastbone. Flattening and pressing the chicken allows it to cook quickly and evenly while creating the perfect texture and taste. 

This rustic and simple dish is often served with garlic sauce or tkemali, a Georgian wild plum sauce. Chicken tabaka pairs perfectly with fried potatoes or rice, and with a big, simple salad of fresh tomatoes and cucumbers. I like to serve mine with a Georgian garlic cilantro sauce made in the same pan you cook the chicken in, along with lemon wedges to squeeze on top for an extra pop of flavor. 

Note: Make sure to cook the chicken over medium-low heat. If the temperature is too high, the chicken will burn on the outside. This recipe works best with a smaller chicken that is between 3-4 lbs, if you’re using a larger bird the cooking time will take longer. 

[gamegem92]

(IO/Splatoon AU) Profiles thus far

Name: Joy Yoru

Species: Inkling

Subspecies: Firefly Squid 

Ink Color(natural): Yellow/Blue gradient 

Weapon of Choice: Dapple Dualies

Headgear: Sun Visor

Clothing: Lime BlobMob Tee

Shoes: Cyan Trainers

~~~~~~~

Name: _____ “Sadness” Egea 

Species: Inkling

Subspecies: Glass Squid (Egea Inermis)

Ink Color(natural): Blue

Weapon of Choice: Bloblobber

Headgear: Full-Moon Glasses

Clothing: Tenured Turtleneck 

Shoes: Blue Slip-Ons

~~~~~~~

Name: _______ “Anger” Rossi

Species: Inkling

Subspecies: Chilean Bobtail Squid

Ink Color(natural): Red

Weapon of Choice: Carbon Roller

Headgear: Skull Bandana

Clothing: King Jersey

Shoes: Buckle-Down Boots

~~~~~~~

Name: ______ “Disgust” Loligo

Species: Inkling

Subspecies: Longfin Inshore Squid

Ink Color(natural): Green

Weapon of Choice: REEF-LUX 450

Headgear: Squidbeak Shield

Clothing: Plum Barazushi Wrap

Shoes: Onyx 01STERs

~~~~~~~

Name: _________ “Fear” Ivieran

Species: Inkling

Subspecies: Long-Armed Squid 

Ink Color(natural): Violet 

Weapon of Choice: New Squiffer

Headgear: Fake Contacts

Clothing: Office Attire

Shoes: Baggy-Sock Fringe Loafs

~~~~~~~

Name: ____ “Anxiety” Koystvo

Species: Octoling

Subspecies: Blind Cirrate Octopus

Ink Color(natural): Orange

Weapon of Choice: Painbrush

Headgear: Noise Cancelers

Clothing: Striped Rugby

Shoes: Clownfish Basics

~~~~~~~

Name: ______ “Envy” Bluu

Species: Octoling

Subspecies: Blue-Ringed Octopus

Ink Color(natural): Cyan

Weapon of Choice: Foil Squeezer

Headgear: Fishfry Biscuit Bandana

Clothing: Crustwear XXL

Shoes: Bubble Rain Boots 

~~~~~~~

Name: _________ “Ennui” Vitrele

Species: Octoling

Subspecies: Glass Octopus (Richardi)

Ink Color(natural): Lilac

Weapon of Choice: Undercover Sorella Brella

Headgear: Annaki Beret

Clothing: Negative Longcuff Sweater

Shoes: Octoleet Boots

~~~~~~~

Name: ______ “Embarrassment” Pacifico

Species: Octoling

Subspecies: Giant Pacific Octopus

Ink Color(natural): Pink

Weapon of Choice: Splatana Wiper

Headgear: Snaxolotl Hood

Clothing: Whale-Knit Sweater 

Shoes: Pink Dadfoot Sandals

[legacyshenanigans]

Was just talking to a friend, reminiscing about all the wild, gross, and just plain weird things from my old job. And I thought I'd just do a fun little post of me bullet poiting these things. Bear in mind that some of these things happened multiple times, not just once.🤣

(I may have done this before, I cant remember, but fuck it I'm gonna do it again lmao)

Someone took a shit on the toilet seat and closed the lid.

Tieing used tampons around the toilet cubicle handles.

Sticking used sanitary towels on the toilet wall that I had to peel off and dispose of

Someone opened the sanitary bin and shit inside it.

Some guy poured the cleaning solution out of the toilet brush holder, pissed in it, then put the toilet brush back.

Foil with burnt herion remnants on it

Crack pipes and needles.

A plum in a condom.

The biggest, most monstrous turd I have ever seen in my whole entire life, that I and a co-worker literally had to break apart with a stick to make it flush. In the ladies toilets no less.. (R.I.P to that poor women's asshole)

The cheese lover: a woman who used to come in every single day, and bring in/eat 14 pots of cottage cheese and leave all the empty pots at her table.

A guy who I worked with who was an ABSOLUTE idiot used to clean the METAL slot machines with WOOD Polish, and because he was pally with the boss, the boss never did anything about it, so I just had to go around after him and clean them all again properly with the appropriate cleaning products. This was EVERY DAY that I worked there.

A woman asked if she could keep her urine sample (that wasnt in a proper urine sample pot, it was in some old skanky half open tupperware) for her doctors appointment later that day, in our works kitchen fridge with all the food and everyone's lunch in it, and a girl I worked with said yes and put it in there.

A tramp took a shit in the door way and I had to clean it up.

A tramp spat on me after I said I couldn't give him a cigarette in that moment because I'd left my packet inside the building (I would have given him one otherwise)

A tramp was asleep in the fire exit doorway, and our boss told me and a co-worker to deal with them and ask them to move somewhere else, and the tramp was extremely aggressive with us even though we tried to be gentle and nice.

A horrible woman called Kath on a mobility scooter used to run over my foot at least 3 times a week, and never said sorry when I'd call her out on it.

We had a "phantom wanker" who used to go into the toilets and cum on the wall. We never found out who it was. But I definitely did my fair share of having to clean up this dudes nut while I worked there.

We had a woman who would come in and play on the slot machines, she wore short skirts with no underwear and when she'd leave, all her pussy juice and discharge would be on the seat and we'd have to clean it.

There are probably so many other things, but there's just a snippet, lmao. Worst job I ever had🤣

[alyssapothecary]

Tin Foil Hat Theory #2: Sponsor Gifts from District 12 (74th and 75th Games)

The foundation and first part of this theory is the idea that district sponsors can pay to send in items/goods from home, not just select from a resource list that the Capitol provides.

The burn medicine was most definitely manufactured in the Capitol, so my first example is Katniss's second gift in the 74th Games, the bread:

I open the parachute and find a small loaf of bread. It’s not the fine white Capitol stuff. It’s made of dark ration grain and shaped in a crescent. Sprinkled with seeds. I flashback to Peeta’s lesson on the various district breads in the Training Center. This bread came from District 11. I cautiously lift the still warm loaf. What must it have cost the people of District 11 who can’t even feed themselves? How many would’ve had to do without to scrape up a coin to put in the collection for this one loaf? It had been meant for Rue, surely. But instead of pulling the gift when she died, they’d authorized Haymitch to give it to me. As a thank-you? Or because, like me, they don’t like to let debts go unpaid? For whatever reason, this is a first. A district gift to a tribute who’s not your own.

Yes, the Capitol dining area had district bread provided for the tributes, but that scene may have just been so Katniss was able to immediately identify which district baked the bread and paid to send it in. Also, it's still warm. Sure, maybe the Capitol has containers to preserve the temperature of the food... or maybe Thresh and Rue were doing well in this arena and correctly identifying the birds, grains, and berries because it's located very close to District 11. (Then again, both can be true.)

Next gift is the pot of hot broth. Could be from the Capitol, it's true. Could also be from Greasy Sae, the woman who is known for serving up soup and who we learn in Catching Fire is currently starting up a collection back home to sponsor her.

I'm skipping over the sleep syrup for now because it still needs a little more proof and leadup. And that can be found in the food basket after the Feast:

Peeta peers through the rocks and then gives a whoop. Before I can stop him, he’s out in the rain, then handing something in to me. A silver parachute attached to a basket. I rip it open at once and inside there’s a feast — fresh rolls, goat cheese, apples, and best of all, a tureen of that incredible lamb stew on wild rice. The very dish I told Caesar Flickerman was the most impressive thing the Capitol had to offer.

Rolls, goat cheese, apples, lamb stew... Can I just point out that almost all of these things can be linked back to what we've already learned about Katniss's and Peeta's loved ones?

"The strong fatty cheese tastes just like the kind Prim makes" Oh I bet it does!

"We make a goat cheese and apple tart at the bakery” The Mellark bakery? That makes bread and rolls? And as Katniss mentioned twice, has an old apple tree in the backyard? That bakery?

Also (and this might be more of a stretch), when Katniss has lamb stew in the Capitol (breakfast on THG training day, in a can in MJ), it usually has dried plums. The batch in the arena does not. But as we'd just learned at that point in the book, what Katniss does have is a merchant butcher friend named Rooba who probably could've hooked Greasy Sae up with the lamb for a stew. Gale might've found the wild rice. Either they couldn't locate the plums, couldn't have them dried in time (?), or couldn't afford to buy them or send them along. I just think it's interesting the plums aren't there.

Now, if that's enough evidence, here's the second part of my theory:

Mrs. Everdeen sent in the sleep syrup (THG) and the skin ointment (CF).

Here's the thing about the sleep syrup -- whenever it's brought up, it's associated with Mrs. Everdeen.

THG: I uncork the vial and take a deep sniff. ... There’s no question, it’s sleep syrup. It’s a common medicine in District 12. Cheap, as medicine goes, but very addictive. Almost everyone’s had a dose at one time or another. We have some in a bottle at home. My mother gives it to hysterical patients to knock them out to stitch up a bad wound or quiet their minds or just to help someone in pain get through the night. CF 1: “We’ll combine it with sleep syrup, Katniss, and he’ll manage it. The herbs are more for the inflammation —” my mother begins calmly. CF 2: My mother gives me a cup of chamomile tea with a dose of sleep syrup, and my eyelids begin to droop immediately. (Extra MJ: When I finally begin to surface into the sterile hospital room in 13, I remember. I was under the influence of sleep syrup. My heel had been injured after I’d climbed out on a branch over the electric fence and dropped back into 12.) (The reason I associate this hospital scene with Mrs. Everdeen is a theory post for another time)

Picture this: Mrs. Everdeen has been attentively watching the Games with Prim and Gale. Katniss and Peeta are in the final six. Food is scarce after the pyramid blew up. Capitol TV is probably hinting at a special announcement later. She's seen decades of Games, enough to know that a feast is imminent. But one morning Peeta wakes up and panics to find Katniss missing, and Mrs. Everdeen realizes that if he reacts this way now, it will be a real problem if/when Caesar announces a feast. Oh, certainly, Katniss will want to go, but Peeta will be hysterical trying to stop her. And there's only one cheap and easy way to deal with a hysterical patient.

She goes through her apothecary stores, where of course there would be tiny corked vials, and she measures from her bottle of sleep syrup what she deems to be exactly enough to knock Peeta out for a suitable amount of time. And she shells out the money to send it Haymitch's way, because she knows it's worth the chance of getting Katniss (and Peeta) home.

Would Mrs. Everdeen do this? Set aside softer feelings and make a cold/controversial/difficult yet practical call, for a patient's own good? Is it in her character?

“Just give him the medicine!” I scream at her. “Give it to him! Who are you, anyway, to decide how much pain he can stand!” Gale begins stirring at my voice, trying to reach me. The movement causes fresh blood to stain his bandages and an agonized sound to come from his mouth. “Take her out,” says my mother. Haymitch and Peeta literally carry me from the room while I shout obscenities at her. (CF)

Then I realize what it means. “My mother’s not coming back.” “No,” he says. He pulls an envelope from his jacket pocket and hands it to me. I examine the delicate, perfectly formed writing. “She’s helping to start up a hospital in District Four. She wants you to call as soon as we get in.” My finger traces the graceful swoop of the letters. “You know why she can’t come back.” (MJ)

Yes, I think it is.

As for CF: The Everdeens weren't in optimal financial condition to send in sponsor gifts during the 74th Games (especially on day 12), which is why Collins made sure to point out the sleep syrup was cheap. But at the time of the Third Quarter Quell, the Everdeens had victor money and the Games only lasted three days. Which is why on Day 2, after hours of watching Katniss scratch herself in her sleep, we get this:

I plunk down on the sand next to Finnick and screw the lid off the tube. Inside is a thick, dark ointment with a pungent smell, a combination of tar and pine needles. I wrinkle my nose as I squeeze a glob of the medicine onto my palm and begin to massage it into my leg. A sound of pleasure slips out of my mouth as the stuff eradicates my itching. It also stains my scabby skin a ghastly gray-green.

Tar and pine needles. Tar comes from coal. Pine needles come from the woods. Ergo, the ointment comes from District 12, and since it doesn't look or smell pretty, it's obviously a home remedy made by an apothecary. A gift from Mrs. Everdeen and Prim.

(There's also the spile, which I suppose Mrs. Everdeen could've found among her husband's possessions when they were moving their stuff to the Victor's Village, but I'm not 100% on that one.)

It's just really amazing how District 12 came together, and what they sacrificed to bring Katniss home. (Also feels like foreshadowing for the end of Mockingjay, Mrs. Everdeen doing what she can to support Katniss from afar.)

[basilbunnycreachers]

Team Neo-Hero, aka Team Sapphire (she hates that name with a burning passion lmao)

Left to right we got:

Garnet the Bat:

Age: 17

She/Her

Sapphire’s best friend and the oldest of four. Daughter of Knuckles and Rouge, she’s the spitting image of her mother, but with her father’s strength and sense of honor. Enjoys playing pranks on people, but will always be serious when needed. Is a member of the local boxing club in their city, and enjoys making her own jewelry on the side.

Sapphire the Hedgehog:

Age: 16

She/Her

See other posts in the tag because I’m still writing a proper bio for her💀

Plum the Cat:

Age: 16

He/Him

The surprising result of an even more surprising union between Blaze the Cat and Espio the Chameleon…one that lasted for a singular night before devolving into an awkward coparenting relationship. He alternates his time between dimensions with his parents, forming a strong bond with Sapphire in the process. Can turn invisible and inherited his mom’s fire powers. Fights with a bow and flaming arrows, is incredibly nosy but a loyal friend.

Copy and pasting from my Big Document of Lore:

“Sapphire, Garnet, and Plum eventually end up forming a pseudo Team Hero after foiling enough of Eggman’s plots to get the media involved. They’re a lot more elusive however, functioning similarly to Team Dark in that regard. Sapphire sort of hates the attention (she receives the most once the media figures out who her parents are), the other two absolutely relish in it.”

[nicholasandriani]

My process and an Essay on New Poem: fortitudine vincimus

Draft 1: 02/16/2025 “This year blossoming A-Bomb Dropping aplomb Plum-plum-plum A hum-hum-hum-hum And we’re done. Kicked teeth, once mine I lie floorside and planar A Lying smile In a room with a view Of the teeth, once new For sale Never used Dreams? Rearing foil reflections On floor, mine carpet bombs yesteryear’s Napalm A fortnight still not with song NOr sonic…

[mannylikessims]

The True Story of the Villareal Family [2.5]

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Crickets chirped outside the Villareal residence, a mansion that lay nestled in the center of its own private island. A place so isolated, no one in the town of Windenburg could hear you even if you cried out.

“Dinner’s ready!” Hugo cried out.

After a few nights of rest, he felt refreshed enough to cook for the family again.

The Villareals assembled at the dining table, greeted by an entire roasted bass rubbed in spices and a caprese salad with a tastefully drizzled balsamic reduction.

“Oh, this looks great,” said Luna, glancing up from her phone. “Thank you, Hugo.”

“Yes, yes, what she said,” said Jacques.

Jacques had to be very careful right now after his failure earlier this week. He couldn’t risk his children becoming suspicious of him before his deed was accomplished. For everything to work out to his maximum benefit, he needed to plan the perfect accident.

It was just a few more days of pretending to be a normal father, he promised himself. Then he would be free to pursue his hobbies unfettered for the rest of his life.

If only Hugo would stop staring at him.

He cleared his throat. “So, offspring, how was school today?” Excellent question, he told himself. Very fatherlike.

“They brought some dead frogs to class for us to dissect today. It was upsetting,” complained Max.

“Aw, I remember when we had to do that,” said Luna sympathetically. “It’s pretty gross, isn’t it? I understand how you feel.”

Max huffed but ate his fish quietly, because, in fact, his sister did not understand how he felt. He wasn’t upset that they had to dissect frogs; he was upset that the frogs were delivered already dead.

“Offspring, how about we plan our next Family Fun Day, hm?” Jacques asked. Nicely slipped that in there, he thought to himself. Not suspicious at all.

“Ooh what if we went back to the Von Haunt Estate?” said Luna while Jacques resisted the urge to scold her for being on her phone during dinner. “That was so fun for everyone last time!”

If she had looked up from her phone, she might’ve seen Hugo giving her a dirty look. And she definitely would have seen her father’s face shrivel up like an angry prune at the mention of the Von Haunt Estate.

“Well, maybe we could if someone hadn’t gotten me banned from that cherished tourist destination.” He looked pointedly at Max, who was nonchalantly stabbing his fish, pretending not to notice his father’s ire.

The Von Haunt Estate used to be his favorite place to go to dress up as a knight and play chess. Used to be. Getting banned from his favorite establishment was the final incident that had triggered Jacques’ evil plans. Keep it together, Jacques, he reminded himself. It’ll all be over soon.

“I’ve got it!” he said, changing from scowling to beaming in an instant. “How about a Family Fun Day at the spa?”

His eyes grew as wide as their dinner plates. “Say, wouldn’t it be nice to sit in a sweltering hot sauna for the rest of your lives?”

The table went silent.

“What’s a sauna?” said Max.

“What, you don’t know? It’s a hot, steamy room, and if you stay in there too long, you–“

“Dad, spas don’t exist in our world.” Hugo suddenly interrupted. This was the first thing he’d said since they sat down – he’d spent the entire meal quiet with a glassy, faraway look on his face.

His father fumed. Another ingenious plan of his, foiled?

He slammed his fists onto the table, the tableware clattering. “Well, plum this!”

Luna gasped. “Dad, language! Not in front of Max!”

Jaques stood up and slammed his chair into the table, muttering under his breath as he stormed out of the dining room, the children watching him.

"Cheapskate Watcher. How dare she not have saunas?"

The kids were left alone in the dining room in an uneasy silence. Their father’s mood swings seemed a bit, well, swingier than usual.

Max was still grinning, however, because he had just learned a new word.

“Plum, haha!” he chuckled. “Plum, plum, plum…”

───────────────✦───────────────

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[lunarfeat21]

you know what would be funny? y/n and bluenose interacting and they are so done with each other

bluenose: "Well, well well! this is quite a shock to see you, y/n!

tell me how is it you being an errand boy for the port going on?

y/n puts on a smile that doesn't reach their eyes and says in a sickeningly sick voice laced with barbed sarcasm

Y/N: bluenose it is such.. a DELIGHTFUL surprise to see you, I'm truly honored to be In the presence of big city ports 'most eligible bachelor'

Bro, bro, same!

These two will on each other’s throats if they cross paths, and it’s a battle of insults. It would be something worth paying to see, but had to be foiled by a party pooper (i.e. Captain Star but tried so hard to not laugh).

Just picture this:

imagine you were Ten Cents, had y/n tag along with Sunshine, on your way to deliver fuel for Lillie Lightship. Suddenly, a familiar face with a bluish nose, came to view as you knew shit is about to hit the fan.

The naval tug yapping bs orders as usual, cue eye rolling and groaning, until he paused mid sentence. He squinted and proceeded to laugh, in fact roaring with laughter as he gasped for air.

The two had no clue, until Sunshine noticed y/n, at the front of the bow with teeth baring out in a scowl and fists clenching.

Apparently, these two met earlier today (via Captain Star) and let's say Bluenose irritate the hell out of them (especially being called an 'errand boy' as in insult bc he heard the rumors of y/n being held against their will).

The two tugs are ready to throw hands (or words since they don’t have hands), when y/n’s lips curved to a huge smile. They chuckled as well, which somehow urked Bluenose.

“Now what’s this sudden smug face, laddie?” He hissed.

“Oh nothing.” A sweetly oozy voice came from y/n, their eyes grew childlike, trying to appeared as innocent.

At this point, both Sunshine and Ten Cents were giggling, three Z stacks were hiding in the corner of a building and was ease dropping, quietly snickering at the event unfolding.

Y/n somehow captured the attention of others, and this set Bluenose off.

Bluenose’s face flush a shade of cherry red all over, gritting his teeth, and growled in anger of this humiliation.

“Gone cheeky, are we?”

“hmmmm?” Y/n cooed inquisitively, eyes doting away. “Maybe…”

“You wouldn’t be so cheeky if you were in the navy, under my jurisdiction, Errand Boy…”

“Whatever you say, but I’m under Captain Star’s jurisdiction. A small, insignificant, blueberry nosed prude have no place here to talk me down.”

Y/n huffed as their eyes met with an angry Bluenose as he stormed out, the switchers and the z stacks were all laughing hysterically along with others that were nearby.

“Captain Star would hear about this laddie!” The naval tug shouted across the yard, releasing more steam than usual “I’ll go as far as to persuade him to draft you, then will see who has the last laugh!”

“SUCK MY PLUMS! BASTARD!” Y/n retorted, ensued by more laughter.

——————————————

Your and Bluenose’s argument became a favorite story among the port, whispers and rumors go around when either Bluenose or y/n are out in public.

Not as much as a ultra favorite among the Star Fleet, so much that if you listen carefully, you’ll hear the faded laugh of Captain Star.

[askwhatsforlunch]

Fruity Christmas Pudding

I've baked this rather special Chocolate and Apricot Figgy Pudding for the Holidays for a few years now, and it's always been a resounding success, both a decadent and moist and light dessert to indulge in until midnight strikes! I wanted to try something a bit different this year, and made this very Fruity Christmas Pudding. Laden with all sorts of dried fruit, mellowed and softened in Cognac, it is just as beautiful as the chocolate one!  Happy Christmas, dears!!!

Ingredients (serve 6 to 8):

half a dozen large Medjool dates

half a dozen prunes

1/2 cup dried apricot

1/3 cup sultanas

1/3 cup dried cranberries

2 satsumas

1/3 cup good quality Brandy or Cognac (like Hennessy)

6 tablespoons unsalted butter, softened + more for greasing

½ cup demerara sugar

1 thumb-sized piece fresh ginger, peeled

3 large eggs

2/3 cup plain flour

½ teaspoon baking powder

1 ½ teaspoon Mixed Spice

1 cup Brioche Crumbs

1/4 cup almond meal

1/3 cup flaked almonds

1/4 cup very good Fig Jam (I used Fig and Almond Jam we brought back from our trip to Menton)

1 clean two pence or one pence coin

1/3 cup good quality Brandy or Cognac (like Hennessy)

The day before, pit and dice Medjool dates and plums. Dice dried apricots.

In a medium bowl, combine dice dates, plums and apricots with sultanas and dried cranberries. Grate in the zest of both satsumas, and thoroughly squeeze in their juice. Add the Cognac. Stir to mix well. Cover with cling film, and leave to soak, at room temperature, overnight.

The next day, cream butter and demerara sugar with a wooden spoon in a large bowl, until light, pale yellow and fluffy. Grate in fresh ginger, and stir until perfectly blended. Add the eggs, one at a time, beating well after each addition. 

In a medium bowl, combine flour, baking powder and Mixed Spice. Gradually stir flour mixture into egg mixture; fold in gently until well-mixed. 

Add Brioche Crumbs, almond meal, flaked almonds, Fig Jam and soaked fruits with their soaking liquid to the batter, and stir well. Drop the two pee in the pudding, make a wish, give a good stir, and give it to stir to anyone who’s at home, so they can make their wish too (from the oldest to the youngest!)

Generously butter a 2-quart pudding basin. Cut a small disc of baking paper and press into the base of the basin. Butter generously as well.

Spoon pudding batter into the prepared basin and press it down with the back of your wooden spoon. Cover the pudding with a layer of baking paper and foil, both pleated in the middle and tie securely with string. Trim off excess paper and foil with scissors.

Put a metal jam lid upside down at the bottom of a large pot to act as a trivet. Place a long double strip of of foil, letting it hang on both edges of the pot, to help you lift the pudding once it is cooked.

Lower the pudding in the pot, sit it on the band of foil, on the jam lid. Pour boiling water in the pot until it comes halfway up the pudding basin. Cover with a lid and bring back to a boil over medium-high heat. Once water is boiling, reduce heat to medium-low and simmer for 7 hours, regularly checking and adding boiling water so it is always halfway up the basin.

When cooked through, lift the pudding out of the pot. It should be a deep brown colour. Let cool a little, 15 to 20 minutes and turn pudding out onto serving plate. If you’re making it in advance, months ahead of Christmas, let cool completely and wrap tightly in cling film. Then place in a large metal tin (like a biscuit tin), and store in a cool, dark, draft-free place until Christmas.

On Christmas Day (or Eve, depending when you have it!) unwrap pudding and place in a buttered pudding basin, securing again with baking paper, foil and a string. Steam for about an hour.

Just before serving, quickly warm Brandy or Cognac, in a small saucepan, about 1 minute over low heat. Ignite carefully with a long match, and pour gently over the pudding, to flambé. 

When flames die out, serve warm Fruity Christmas Pudding with Brandy Ice Cream.

[morethansalad]

Potato-Tomato Gratin with Horseradish (Vegan)

4–6 servings

4 Tbsp. extra-virgin olive oil, divided; plus more for serving (optional)

1 large onion, thinly sliced

4 garlic cloves, thinly sliced

2½ tsp. Diamond Crystal or 1¼ tsp. Morton kosher salt, divided

3 Tbsp. drained prepared horseradish

1 Tbsp. double-concentrated tomato paste

½ tsp. crushed red pepper flakes or 1 tsp. freshly ground black pepper

2 Tbsp. thyme leaves, divided

1 cup low-sodium vegetable or chicken broth or 1 tsp. Better Than Bouillon reconstituted in 1 cup water

1½ lb. Yukon Gold potatoes (about 4 medium), scrubbed, sliced into ¼"-thick rounds

1½ lb. plum tomatoes (7–8), ends trimmed, sliced into ¼"-thick rounds

1 (2"–3") piece fresh horseradish, peeled, or 1 oz. vegan Parmesan, finely grated (for serving)

Flaky sea salt

Step 1: Arrange a rack in middle of oven; preheat to 350°F. Heat 1 Tbsp. oil in a large skillet over medium-low. Add onion, garlic, and ½ tsp. Diamond Crystal or ¼ tsp. Morton kosher salt and cook, stirring often, until onion and garlic are softened and translucent but without taking on any color, 5–7 minutes. Remove from heat and stir in prepared horseradish, tomato paste, and red pepper flakes, and 1 Tbsp. thyme leaves. Transfer to a large bowl.

Step 2: Combine broth and remaining 2 tsp. Diamond Crystal or 1 tsp. Morton kosher salt in a small bowl or measuring cup, stirring to dissolve salt; set aside.

Step 3: Add potatoes to bowl with onion mixture and toss to combine. Arrange groups of 4–5 tomato slices and 4–5 potato and onion slices in alternating stacks in a 2–2½ qt. baking dish or medium cast-iron skillet so edges are aligned vertically, working your way around perimeter of dish before moving into center. The pieces should be very tightly packed; tuck leftover onion filling into any gaps.

Step 4: Pour reserved broth over vegetables and drizzle with 3 Tbsp. oil. Cover tightly with foil and bake until potatoes are tender and tomatoes are juicy, 40–50 minutes. Increase oven temperature to 425°, uncover baking dish, and continue to bake until liquid is reduced by about half, tomatoes are concentrated and jammy, and potato edges are golden brown and crisp, 30–45 minutes more. Let cool 15 minutes.

Step 5: Drizzle gratin with a little more oil if desired and sprinkle with sea salt and remaining 1 Tbsp. thyme leaves. Finely grate as much fresh horseradish over as you’d like.

[mariacallous]

Chicken tabaka is a western Georgian dish where a whole chicken is flattened and pan-fried while being weighed down by another pan or heavy object. The chicken ends up golden brown and crispy on the outside while staying juicy inside. It is so delicious and simple that it has become wildly popular in homes and restaurants across the Caucasus, Central Asia and former Soviet countries.

Tabaka (or taphaka) comes from the name for a Georgian frying pan called a tapa, which is traditionally used to make this recipe. You can make chicken tabaka with any heavy bottomed skillet or cast iron pan, along with something you can weigh the chicken down with, such as a second heavy skillet, a heavy pot or bricks wrapped in foil. You can also make this recipe on a grill by cooking the chicken directly on the grates while weighing it down. This dish is similar to spatchcocked chicken (where the backbone is removed from the chicken), but for chicken tabaka it is common to flatten the chicken by simply cutting down the center of the breastbone. Flattening and pressing the chicken allows it to cook quickly and evenly while creating the perfect texture and taste. 

This rustic and simple dish is often served with garlic sauce or tkemali, a Georgian wild plum sauce. Chicken tabaka pairs perfectly with fried potatoes or rice, and with a big, simple salad of fresh tomatoes and cucumbers. I like to serve mine with a Georgian garlic cilantro sauce made in the same pan you cook the chicken in, along with lemon wedges to squeeze on top for an extra pop of flavor. 

Note: Make sure to cook the chicken over medium-low heat. If the temperature is too high, the chicken will burn on the outside. This recipe works best with a smaller chicken that is between 3-4 lbs, if you’re using a larger bird the cooking time will take longer.