#questions and quacksalvers

[flickeringflame216]

Top five cryptids

Loch Ness Monster

Bigfoot

Moose (just a normal moose probably)

Aliens

Mothman

[asparkofhopeiswhatimafter]

56. Washing dishes or doing laundry?

57. Snakes or sharks?

58. Orange juice or apple juice?

59. Sunrise or sunset?

60. Slacker or over-achiever?

61. Pen or pencil?

62. Peanut butter or jelly?

63. Grammys or Oscars?

64. Detailed or abstract?

65. Multiple choice questions or essay questions?

66. Adventurous or cautious?

67. Saver or spender?

68. Glasses or contacts?

69. Laptop or desktop?

70. Classic or modern?

56. Ooh both my beloatheds <3 uhhhhh laundry I guess (it's less slimy)

57. Sneks! (But I love both)

58. Orange!

59. Sunrise

60. Recovering over achiever who feels like a slacker??

61. Pen

62. Peanut butter

63. I love my Grammy but idk anyone named Oscar

64. Detailed

65. Essay

66. Adventurous in theory

67. Saver

68. Glasses are so fun but not practical for me so contacts

69. Desktop for the nostalgia (I miss the clacky keyboard)

70. Uhhhh classic I guess but it depends on the thing

[ladyglencora]

Sneak Peek--Pensieves and Possibilities Chapter 22

https://archiveofourown.org/works/59222017/chapters/151020214

The Ministry’s barrister yet again bares his teeth in a smarmy smile. “Miss Granger, did you have sexual relations with Mr. Malfoy?”

“McLaggan!” Shacklebolt roars, his bellow covering the clanging of Draco’s chains as he tries to leap out of his chair at the Ministry’s barrister.

No wonder the fucker is so slimy, he’s related to the git who tried to maul Granger.

“Mr. Malfoy is known to have had several liaisons, and we’ve had three pretty witches come to his defense today. I think it is safe to question why these girls are so passionate in his defense.”

“And I think,” Granger interrupts stridently, “that it is clear why I asked for the courtroom to be cleared of the press. It’s alright, Minister, I am quite used, by now, to having my character impugned simply by being female and Muggleborn.” She glares at the older McLaggan. “Not that it is any of your business Mr. McLaggan, but I had never had sex with anyone when I left Hogwarts and the only times I saw Mr. Malfoy after that were in moments of torture or battle.”

The smarmy bastard grins wider. “Miss Granger, I know Muggles may like to narrowly define sexual relations to penetrative sex–isn’t that what your American President is in hot water about right now–but in the wizarding world, we include inappropriate sexual touching in that term.”

Granger flips her curls. “ It sounds, perhaps, Barrister McLaggan, that you did not take Muggle Studies. British Muggles have Prime Ministers, not Presidents. Since I am British and not American and a witch and not a Muggle, Bill Clinton is not my president. While Draco Malfoy may have been the first to imply I wasn’t a proper witch, he, unlike you, apparently, has long since considered me a witch. And that was before we fought an entire war for the right that I be considered one. Apparently, if your attitude represents the Ministry’s, the war was for naught. Perhaps being a war heroine, the Golden Girl, and the Brightest Witch of Her Age–all monikers I have earned somehow despite being a Muggleborn–isn’t enough, yet, to be treated as part of the Wizarding World.”

The Wizengamot rustles with discomfort. 

“I–I did not mean–” McLaggan stutters.

“No one doubts your status as a witch, Miss Granger,” Shacklebolt's voice cuts through the chamber. “I apologise on behalf of the Ministry for our barrister’s misstep.”

She gives a terse nod and sniffs.

Draco restrains his laughter. His brilliant witch. She side-stepped the question altogether and put McLaggan on his back foot all while making the Wizengamot more sympathetic to himself.

Quicksilver steps forward and addresses Shacklebolt. “Before we readmit the spectators and press, may I ask Mr. Malfoy questions specific to Miss Granger’s testimony so as to accord with her request for privacy.”

“I will allow it,” Shacklebolt intones.

“Mr. Malfoy,” Draco’s barrister begins, “Do you agree that everything in Miss Granger’s testimony is accurate regarding your interactions with her?”

Draco almost smirks. “No.”

He watches as her eyes go wide and Quacksalver’s falter.

“Oh? What do you think is inaccurate?”

“She said I believed myself to be in love with her. People who talk about someone in that way imply that the person does not know his own mind. Therefore, it is inaccurate to say I believe myself in love with her.”

Apparently, Quacksalver isn’t as much of an idiot as Draco thinks. He grins and bounces on his toes again. “What you mean, then, Mr. Malfoy, is that you are in love with her.”

Draco looks directly at Granger and enunciates, “Yes.”

She sucks in a breath, crimsons, bites her lip, and drops her eyes.

“Is that the only inaccuracy?” Quacksalver pursues. 

“Yes,” Draco answers.

Ao3 Description:

Fred Weasley hates Hermione Granger.

Excuse him--Hermione Malfoy.

He hated her when she chose the Ferret over his brother.

He hated her every time he collected his brother from a pub.

He hated her more every time he had to pay a pub owner and promise Ron would never darken their door again.

He especially hated her when he dropped Ron at the Muggle thing called rehab.

But, when Harry Potter gives him a box of Draco Malfoy's memories, Fred discovers all the possible ways he could love her.

Rating:

Explicit

Archive Warnings:

Major Character Death

Graphic Depictions Of Violence

Category:

F/M

Fandom:

Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling

Relationships:

Hermione Granger/Fred Weasley

Hermione Granger/Draco Malfoy

Neville Longbottom/Pansy Parkinson

Charlie Weasley/Blaise Zabini

Harry Potter/Ginny Weasley

Characters:

Fred Weasley

Draco Malfoy

Hermione Granger

Padma Patil

Ron Weasley

Harry Potter

Theodore Nott

Additional Tags:

Slow Burn

x's 2

Weasley Family Bashing (Harry Potter)

Fred Weasley Lives

Ghost Draco Malfoy

POV Draco Malfoy

POV Fred Weasley

No Ron Weasley Bashing

at least not much

Everyone is redeemed

Banter

Draco Malfoy in the Muggle World

Dubious Consent

Voyeurism

Madame Pomfrey is a Dramione Shipper

[hugotontheonbiquiffinarians]

hi omg i just read the clown protestors arthurxyou and i’m mind blown by your writing. i’ve never read anything with such detail. it didn’t even have smut but i enjoyed it so much- please, write more!!!!

Tonight...

Tonight was the night you had decided to venture beyond the confines of your comfort zone. To be sure, it was an average Saturday night, rife with studious affinity and booked arrangements with your vivid inner workings.

Tonight, however, was a night of errant impulse. One that enticed you to attend the Murray Franklin show, unescorted. Completely, utterly alone. Normally, the contrived atmosphere of televised events would make you recoil violently. But, tonight compelled differently. Your repulsion to the nature of insincere smiles and orchestrated laughs was retired instead to an unusual appetite for reality.

Tonight’s fabricated reality was especially seasoned. Mortality was indiscriminate to tonight’s audience. The puppeteer’s strings were fraying. The time, sedated. The cue cards, delayed in presentation. The audience’s response to riveting, murderous climax, expected, but no less unnerving to the imperious conductor. No less improvised and deserving of penance.

Then, there was him...

The celestial body of comedy cosmos. Orbiting aimless through an unforgiving galaxy, if only for a number of tense, uninviting minutes. The clown of the evening. Dressed to the cat o’ nines. At least, to you, he appeared as one to « live on the edge ». Front row, his visage was an unseasonably vibrant palette. Yet, you couldn’t be fooled. Beneath the suit and makeup, he was nothing short of Death’s Head Upon a Mop-Stick. An emaciated, miserable fellow seeking to exact a rather noble agenda. Albeit poorly executed.

In spite of his near skeletal composition, it was precisely this that attracted you to him. Ineffable, poetic beauty making a xylophone of his rib cage. Skeletal beyond physicality. An imaginative X-ray scan of eyes, hollow and sunken, yet defiantly verdant with a preserved seed of life.

Sparse about the chest and famished for attention, the compulsion to make daring strides to the soles of his sensitive feet was close to irresistible. Yet, you concede to refrain. At the moment, the man was reading from a notebook. A joke, it seemed. A classic knock-knock variation. While you, alone, were listening intently, quite eager to indulge the dulcet lull of his voice, to endure, in unwanted company, the audience’s dissent, was vexing and oppositional.

Yes, his delivery was morbid and untimely, but did it truly warrant such a wounding brand of ignominy ? Did the fair jester deserve to be pilloried by insolent townsfolk, demanding of entertainment, yet nevertheless poised at the pinch with peanuts of discontent ? His harmless touch of humour, reversed to inflict irreparable damage ?

Ah, but this wreaking of havoc would appear to double The Fool, himself, as A Hanged Man. In spite of this, the cards are yet shuffled in his favour. Tonight, The Hanged Man was dealt to another. The man positioned to the left of celestial coordinates, insouciant to the adjacent star’s warning pulse of blinding luminosity. One which would ultimately unleash the fatal gasp of supernova…

Only to be reborn to a less conspicuous state of matter. Bright enough to be observed from a distance measured by all planets, yet no less forbidding in its modest size. Commanding appreciation and respect, thereby.

Before the cycle of this reformation could reach completion, a hist had to be ushered. A solemn yet forceful call for silence, attracting attention. With such gale of conviction, the man was, at present, asserting statements of truth to the unofficial court.

”I killed those guys because they were awful.”

The audience is uncomfortable with this incisive appeal.

“Everybody is awful, these days.”

All, except you. Threatening to clamor in resistance. Still staring intensely at the man, more engrossed than repelled by his refreshing presence.

“It’s enough to make anyone crazy.”

A small, insignificant nerve of morality twinged at your conscience. Deliberating… at all odds, misconstruing, his claim. Wondering if you, alone, were ‘crazy’ for the polarity of your thoughts in the midst of this confused course of judgment.

Above all, you craved the impending strike of chaos. Beyond the deafening brevity of silence, the intrusive, whispering assent of disorder was quickly approaching. And you hadn’t a mite of disagreement to contribute to those misleading murmurs of the jury. In fact, their repugnance was instead vocalised by the arbiter and defendant, currently at wit’s end in contentious argument.

Helplessly, your fight or flight response was evident by an increased rate of breathing. Rising blood pressure, spectral ringing in the ears, concentrated pulsations of your heart throbbing against scattered areas of flesh.

When the trumpet sounds, your ears fall deaf. Glazed vision registers the stark splatter of crimson staining a distinct name with the permanent mark of quietus.

It’s all just a dream, you think weakly. The noisome screams to which you wish all tongues were made dumb. Silence is what you hunger for. The mouldy TV dinner awaiting at your squalid dorm was forgotten. Silence was vital. If only for reasons of rejecting all activity that didn’t declare the (now criminal) clown as sole focus.

And, it seemed, you had captured his attention as well. Still in a daze of adrenaline, he does his little dance, effectively ignoring the damsel in distress embraced by her saviour in sooted armour. The quacksalver named Sally. The sleazy husband of another, portraying the begrimed white knight. Both petrified in their respective roles, yet nothing more than minor characters in this bizarre lover’s tale.

He makes muted steps in your direction. A trajectory that is strangely fearsome in its perplexing gait. He walks as if he balances between the border of reality and fevered paracosm.

To think, it is not the camera he aims towards…

The pleats of his slacks point keenly to you with each gradual erase of distance. In contrast, his unfocused gaze is at once conflicted yet resolute. Still, the distant cries of terror bleed profusely into the juvenile squall of night. Still, your form, secured to the seat, adhered by delayed presence of emotion. Stoic as the stone cushion.

Just as well, tonight’s moon is noticeably full. Its lunar radiance captivates the expanding vacancy of studio. Amid the disruption of regularly scheduled programming, the light fixtures had begun to flicker. Sparks projecting in variegated asterisms. The tapestried windows began to transpose themselves to hyperrealism, admitting the grace of its silver radiance in full force. The intensity of its glow outlines his wingless form as a fledgling seraph. When his lips part, the voice bespeaks with the striking cords of angels.

“You’re not like the rest of them, are you?”

The question was a paralysing tickle of rhetoric. Inexplicit in answer. His tone was doused by curiosity. Incurably childlike. Sickly saccharine words dispensed from sugared teeth as a soothing balm.

Despite these futile attempts to remedy, you were still unsure if any of tonight’s events were not fabricated illusions of a sleep deprived student. Yet, you examine this clown with careful consideration, eyes wide shut, scrutinising his alluring visage, a painted mess of hidden message. The goofy curl of his lip, crooked and exposing of snaggletooth. The crinkle of his emerald eyes, dancing with the moon, illuminating the dim expanse. Glimmering with a dangerous combination of mischief, hope and promise. That, as well, of the silly hand gesture lacing each slender finger through yours, surprisingly chilled to the bone with sudden contact.

Failure to restrain his impending laughter is stimulated by your undue flinching, accompanied by the provocation of a slight gasp as visceral reaction. Failure to respond in time, to oblige his gentle clutch and flee the scene, was magnified by the abrupt entry of two hefty figures looming in the twirling shadows. Failure to react when these figures move swiftly to apprehend and wrest the hand from yours rather viciously.

In that moment, it was serpents against swine. A blur of stiffened and flailing limbs alike in mismatched choreography. Unlike the clown, you don’t resist when the medics wrench you away, divorcing you further from your self-prescribed medicine. And, still..., your attempt to inject a potent dose of belief was persistent.

It couldn’t be real... None of it was real.

But, his smile...

His laugh...

If nothing else was certain, the lingering stretch of that wounded, boyish smile, replete with delusions of dreams and splendor... was terrifying evidence of this obvious truth.

In pristine, white corners, two orderlies stand idly, mildly perturbed by your manic echoes of laughter. Heedless and indifferent to quell the chorus of its reverb as the trembling intensity of its sound gives a semblance of struggle against the straitjacket’s harness.

You think them fools for misjudging your benign mirth as an attempt to escape. Why would you wish to escape that which would finally aim to spread joy to needless misery?

Three consecutive seconds from the clock remind you of your place. When the click of the door’s handle reaches your ears, pure laughter subsides to shaky relief.

When your eyes open again, the vision is a clear frame of vivid spectacle. Two men in the throes of primitive aggression were dragging a half-starved man, limp and comatose, to a destination unknown.

The rhythm of your lungs return to a steady pace. The blood beneath lukewarm skin streams a settled flow through calm rivers.

The studio is emptied. Effectively purged of its pathogens. Still and all, the reality of the ordeal has yet to process its candid rendering. Fatigued and disenchanted, your steps to departure are light and heady.

——————————————————————

As a matter of blinded course, Arthur reveled in his sprinkled delirium. Quite literally basking in its fiery glow as the street lights and infernos merged to one. Perhaps the first in three decades of listless existence, Arthur could finally say, with sincerity, that he was truly, undoubtedly, happy.

Yet, he couldn’t help the risible itch of something missing. A shard of mosaic to complete the tessellating puzzle of this midsummer night’s dream.

Mere moments before the kaleidoscope of crash fractures his drunken taste of giddy liberty, he thinks that no such freedom can exist without the force of another to share the view.

———————————————————————

Then again...

——————-—————————————————

Was there not you ?

[pattyedouard-blog]

What Is Quackery?

There are many issues I'm enamored of that I'd like to explore even more. However, before I do, I know that I have to know about the subject. In the black-and-white times, the world of a slower, easier life, this ensured likely to go to "the stacks" of the neighborhood community college library, and a topical library a little an excessive distance from home. It engaged utilising the web to gain access to the net library systems, and it suggested checking the neighborhood Community Library Catalogue for literature, magazines, and articles or editorials in papers about the subject of interest. In other words, a super reliance on libraries, in true to life and both virtual. At this time, I start my pursuit with WikiPedia. I know that the info shown is usually moderated, and is commonly accurate, although on scorching difficulties, some content may be skewed at times. It is not the literal Word, provided from Paradise. Then again, I've largely been satisfied with the quality of job they do, and most content are carefully sourced with personal references used to write the article and they are a wonderful starting place for additional weeks of discovery. Down below, I wrote a cool article that is going to be largely taken from WikiPedia content pieces. Despite the fact that I've rewritten it, I have to even now return recognition where credit is certainly anticipated. I would still be just a copy cat if I failed to, because a basic rewriting of a piece is not a fresh work, according to the regulations. Fortunately, the Creative Commons license allows me to work with these interesting articles for my own usages. Having said that, please experience this small intro to this issue. Quackery is the campaign of deceitful or unaware medical procedures. A impersonator is a "fraudulent or not aware pretender to medical skill" or "a person who pretends, professionally or publicly, to obtain skill, expertise, qualification or credentials the person does not possess; a charlatan or fish oil salesman". The term quack is a cut form of the archaic term quacksalver, by Dutch: kwakzalver a "hawker of salve". In the Middle Age ranges the term warble meant "shouting". The quacksalvers sold the wares that can be purchased shouting in a loud tone. Common regions of general quackery include dubious diagnoses employing questionable analysis tests, as well as untested or perhaps refuted therapies, especially for critical diseases such as cancer. Quackery is often identified as "health fraud" with the significant characteristic in aggressive campaign. Since it is certainly difficult to separate those who knowingly promote unproven medical treatment plans and those who also are wrong with regards to their proficiency, America surfaces contain overpowered in defamation conditions that accusing another person of quackery or perhaps labelling a medical specialist a warble is in no way similar to accusing that person of committing skilled fraud. To be both quackery and theft, the cluck must know they can be misrepresenting favorable effect on self-confidence and dangers of your medical providers available (instead of, for example , marketing and advertising a great unsuccessful merchandise many people simply consider is undoubtedly effective). Beyond the ethical challenges in appealing benefits that may not likely reasonably be anticipated to happen, quackery also includes the risk that people might choose to forget about therapies which can be more likely to help them, in favor of company solutions provided by the "quack". Stephen Barrett of Quackwatch specifies quackery "as the promo in unsubstantiated strategies that lack a verified digno rationale" and even more roughly just as: Pietro Longhi's The Charlatan (1757) "anything associating overpromotion when it comes to health. " This kind of definition may consist of doubtful views and doubtful goods and services, regardless of truthfulness of their total marketers. In line with this kind of idea, the phrase "fraud" would be shy simply for circumstances in which purposive deceptiveness is engaged. Paul Offit has offered four ways in which alternative medicine "becomes quackery" Simply by "... promoting against standard therapies which can be helpful. " By inch... promoting probably harmful strategies without adequate warning. " By "... raining patients' bank accounts... inches And, finally, by "... promoting marvelous thinking... inch Unproven, generally ineffective, and sometimes dangerous medications and treatments have been peddled throughout human history. Theatrical performances were quite often given to boost the credit of purported medications. Narcissistic remarks were manufactured so that could be very humble fabrics indeed: for instance , in the mid-19th century revalenta arabica is advertised due to having unexpected restorative healing benefits because an empirical healthy eating plan with invalids; in spite of it is remarkable name and several shimmering reports it was in actual fact just typical lentil flour, sold to the gullible at many times the real price. In addition wherever very little fraud was planned, quack applications often trapped no effective ingredients in any way. Some cure contained chemicals such as opium, alcohol and honey, which will would have given symptomatic healing but experienced no curative properties. Some would have habit forming qualities to entice the purchaser to return. The few successful remedies distributed by quacks included emetics, laxatives and diuretics. Several ingredients does have therapeutic effects: mercury, silver and arsenic substances may possess helped some infections and infestations; willow bark secured salicylic plaque created by sugar, chemically very closely related to acetylsalicylsäure; and the quinine contained in Jesuit's bark was in fact an effective treatment for sumpffieber and other fevers. However , knowledge of appropriate uses and doses was limited. The science-based practice of medicine community has belittled the infiltration of different treatments into popular school treatments, education, and guides, accusing universities of "diverting analysis time, money, along with assets with extra fruitful lines in shop to be able to go after a theory that has simply no grund in biology. inches Recommended. W. Donnell gave the length "quackademic medicine" to describe this particular attention directed at alternative medicine simply by twoyear college. Mentioning the Flexner Report, he stated that therapeutic education "needs a very good Flexnerian housekeeping. inches For example , David Gorski criticized Brian M. Berman, organizer in the School of Maryland Centre when considering Integrative Drugs, with respect to posting that "There indicators that both equally substantial acupuncture and sham acupuncture treatment more efficient than hardly any treatment and that acupuncture might be a beneficial nutritional supplement to other forms of ordinary remedy due to mid back pain. very well He likewise castigated writers and peer critics at the New The united kingdomt Journals of Medicine pertaining to letting it to come to be composed, as it effectively advised intentionally mistaken subjects in order to achieve a known placebo effect. Heaps of thanks to WikiPedia with respect to the incredible information that is made available to Internet users by notably committed staff of unpaid editors and team members. This information was gleaned from WikiPedia.org. You should definitely take out your purse and consider A DONATION BY CLICKING HERE.

[flickeringflame216]

8, 22, and 25 for the reading ask? 👀

8. answered here!

22. answered here!

25. What's on the top of your list for 2025?

Currently reading The Boys in the Boat by Daniel Brown, so that's top of the list chronologically. I'm really looking forward to re-reading Emily of Deep Valley by Maud Hart Lovelace soon! And for a first time read-- if you know the Inkworld books by Cornelia Funke, apparently there's a fourth one published in 2023 called The Color of Revenge?!?! So I'm excited to read that!

[flickeringflame216]

DUDEEEE THE DENIM JACKET PATCHES ASK OMG. it’s up in my car rn and i don’t want to go get it in the dark (in bed) so i will answer tomorrow when i can put pictures 💞💞 i’m so excited omggg

also!!! top 5 songs by your favorite artist/band!!

EYYYY!! I hoped that would be a fun one to answer! It's so cool to see them!

Good one! I don't really have a single favorite band per se but listening to a lot of Maisie Peters lately.

"The Last One"-- this song is so much of what love (platonic or romantic) should be!! It's about being someone's number one fan it's about putting in the effort to understand them it's about showing up over and over again!!

"There It Goes"-- the ultimate growing + healing song! lyrics are banger music is banger it's all there! I sleep through the night and they're selling sunflowers cheap!

"Girls' House"-- IT'S THE YEAR OF THE GIRLS' HOUSE DON'T TRY DON'T CRY DON'T STOP AT THE GIRLS' HOUSE ARE YOU LOST??? WE DON'T LIKE LIARS A LOT IN THE GIRLS' HOUSE!!! Feels like a sisterhood feels like being pissed at someone together and then getting over it and laughing!!

"You Signed Up For This"-- the vibes are so There!! "I know I'll get better, I'm just not better yet" + "Now I'm standing on the overpass screaming at the cars/Hey! I wanna get better!" Also I turned 20 a few weeks ago and blasted this song in the car so that's definitely part of it.

"Glowing Review"-- feels like summer and also is really sweet and lovely. I love how Maisie writes about community!! Her highest compliment in a romantic love song is that she gave a glowing review of the guy to her friends! That's a healthy relationship babeeyyy!

Honorable mention to "Cate's Brother"-- so fun and silly!! The vibes I want when I listen to pop music! The crunchy electric guitar is everything!

[flickeringflame216]

List 5 things that make you happy, then put this in the askbox for the last 10 people who liked or reblogged something from you! Get to know your mutuals and followers :3 (no pressure! :D)

snow

talking with my sister

hot tea

library books

freshly washed hair

[flickeringflame216]

#5, 8, 12, 17, and 19 for the 2024 reads in review ask game?

5. Crowd Pleaser: Book you would recommend to almost anyone

For a good classic: To Kill a Mockingbird by Harper Lee For a short story collection: A Stroke of the Pen by Terry Pratchett For a cozy children's adventure: The Bookwanderers by Anna James For a murder mystery: Death on the Nile by Agatha Christie

8. Blorbo Of The Year: Perhaps not your favorite of the year, but contains The Character

Meg from A Wrinkle in Time by Madeleine L'Engle! It was so nice to revisit the first book; I've been slowly working my way through the sequels, but this one is so beloved.

12. Favorite series of the year

The Penderwicks series by Jeanne Birdsall. This was another much-needed reread, and I really enjoyed the audiobook versions read by Susan Denaker.

17. New author (either to you, or with a recent debut) you're hoping to read more of?

Hmm, nothing immediately comes to mind for this one. Several of the new (to me) authors I read this year either have no other works I want to read, or I felt pretty meh about their books. I liked the Terry Pratchett short story collection, though! So maybe I will venture into one of his novels at some point.

19. Favorite old(er) book you read this year

Emma by Jane Austen. (I almost decided to be a smart aleck and say something like Habbakuk or Nehemiah.)

[flickeringflame216]

BEAUTIFUL PERSON AWARD! Once you are given this award you're supposed to paste it in the asks of 8 people who deserve it. If you break the chain nothing happens, but it's sweet to know someone thinks you're beautiful inside and out <33

thanks meri! love seeing you on my dash <3

[flickeringflame216]

Let’s spread a little sunshine ☀️drop this sunflower🌻into the inboxes of the blogs that make you happy! (No pressure, I am only doing this myself because I have the energy at the moment 💛)

thank you song <3

[asparkofhopeiswhatimafter]

quilt and maple for the autumn asks!

quilt - how do you take your tea (or coffee)? just plain if it's herbal, on the rare occasion I drink black tea though I go for honey, cinnamon, vanilla, and milk. maple - is there a hobby / skill that you’ve always wanted to try but never did? I haven't tried bookbinding yet! it's on the (rather extensive) list, though. And I want to try some kind of dance one day but that's still firmly in air castle territory.

Ask game!

[flickeringflame216]

Top 5 favorite things to bake?

ooh yesss ok!

Cornbread-- the first thing I ever learned to bake.

Carrot cake-- with mini chocolate chips and cream cheese frosting. My sisters' birthday cake of choice for several years in a row.

Pepparkakor-- Swedish spice cookies. They're thin and crisp and taste like autumn!

Spanakopita-- sort of baking, sort of cooking. But they go in the oven! My Tayta gave me her recipe and it's *chef's kiss*

Oatmeal chocolate chip cookies-- crowd favorite. The dessert I'd make to bring to an event.

Honorable mention to lemon poppyseed muffins and banana chocolate chip nut muffins!

[flickeringflame216]

top 5 material things you would get purely for yourself if money wasn’t an issue

can I say my own house? like if money weren't an issue then yeah, just a 2 bedroom house in a decent area, fully paid so I never have to think about a mortgage and just have to pay taxes and expenses. (2 bedrooms so friends can visit!) I want my own living space but rent around here is quite steep. Right now I'm moving into a kind of small room in someone's house so I'm trying to get rid of material possessions lol.

climbing gym membership + equipment. Very expensive but rock climbing is so fun!

not sure if voice lessons are a material thing, but definitely something on the list for whenever I have money for it.

slightly more reliable car with better gas mileage. My current car is actually fine and fairly solid for her age, but if I get myself a new car, I can give my current one to my sister and thus get around the "purely for myself" rule >:)

bike rack for my car

[flickeringflame216]

Top five smells

the air after it rains

bedsheets when you dry them outdoors

oranges

bread baking/toasting

books

[flickeringflame216]

Top five leafy greens

spinach. what can't she do.

molokhiya (a type of jute plant). Idk how familiar most people are with this one, but the Egyptian soup of the same name is delicious and is kind of the "chicken soup to banish a cold" equivalent.

collard greens

cabbage (beloved)

kale (great salad base and also good in soup)