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shadyshaylee114 · 2 months ago

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Orc x reader

You lived in alittle cottage on the outskirts of town. Many found you to be strange but you had the best fruits and vegetables anyone had tasted so when you came into town to trade and sell the line was never ending. The towns people had practically raised you so your booth was always busy. What you weren't expecting today was the fact an orc had set up a meat stand right next to your produce stand. You had arrived before the sunlight to set up as you always do but froze taking in the sight. An orc, well over 6 ft tall, was standing in front of the stand next to yours hanging up rows of wrapped meat. You swallowed as you watched the way his muscles moved, enjoying the dark green color on his skin. You took in the scars that littered his back. Wishing you could kiss each individual scar. Distracted you hadn't notice the orc had turned his head and notice your stare.

"I paid for this stand I won't leave even if you have an issue with my kind." He snarled snapping you out of your perverse thoughts.

"No! I.. I mean no I don't have a problem with orcs. I just hadn't seen you around before. I'm... I'm sorry I didn't mean to stare or make you uncomfortable." You stammered out your cheeks turning bright red in embarrassment. You looked him in the eyes finally taking in his features. He had four tusks in total. Two larger than the the others , his eyes a vibrant yellow that reminded you of the sunflowers you grew around your cabin. You were attracted to the orc and had already made him think you where racist, way to go.

"Agar Warbringer." He said holding out his hand.

"Agar thats a wonderful name." You whispered shaking his hand as you told him your name. Agar grunted giving you a curt nod before turning back to his meats.

You left him alone to continue setting up your stand. Little did you know Agar couldn't help but keep stealing peeks at the small little human. You hadn't been afraid and looked him in the eyes. Plus the smell of your arousal had been what caught his attention in the first place. A human female attracted to an orc. There must be something wrong with you. He watched from the side as you set out your produce. Watching the way your hair fell and how often you'd brush it out of your eyes. The way the dawn was starting to shine on your skin so very different from his. Then he thought back to your tiny hand in his. How soft your fingers where compared to his. He could feel his cock hardening at the thought of your hands wrapped around him. Agar cursed silently under his breath focusing on the task at hand. He couldn't sell his meats if he couldn't even control his own.

The bell that signaled the start of the market rang through the air and just as fast, people started to flood in. As you helped person after person you kept stealing glances at Agar unable to help yourself. He was so handsome and they way he handled people was incredible. Giving small children some jerky to nibble on while there parents picked through his assorted product. The way he laughed with the elders as they told him their own hunting tales. His patience was vast even with those who didn't deserve it.

"Honestly if I were you I'd ask to move your stand." You jumped looking at the young man standing at the front of your line.

"Excuse me?" You asked shocked at his statement.

"Why would they allow an orc to put up a stand next to yours? Your one of the busiest stands in the market that thing will scare away your buyers with his ugly face." You could feel rage boiling up inside of you. How dare he say something so nasty.

"If that's all for you, I think you should go." You said coldly. The boy looked at you in disbelief.

"Don't tell me you actually care about that orc." He gasped. Shaking his head he scowled and left muttering under his breath. You knew violence was prohibited but you wanted to beat some sense into that child. You quickly stepped behind the stand for a second to calm your nerves. As you started to prepare to head back you turned right into Agar slamming your head into his chest. He quickly grabbed your arms to stop you from falling.

"Are you okay? I saw you kick that man away from your stand." He asked with a wince. Why was he over here? The last thing you probably wanted was him so close. Without thinking since Agar had a hold of both your arms still you rubbed your nose on his chest it had stung to slam into him. As his musky scent started to fill your sense you froze. Quickly pulling back from him your face turning red in embarrassment. You had just practically harassed him.

"I'm fine. Thank you for coming to check up on me. Sorry about your chest. I mean sorry. I'm just gonna go back the lines waiting. Thank you again!" You rushed out the words. Mortified how could things possibly get worse.

As the day continued you stayed busy still stealing glances at Agar every chance you had. Then as usual the bell tolled signaling the end of the market. When you looked over at Agars stand again. The orc was quickly loading his cart not even sparing you a glance as he did. A deep ache settled into your chest. Why was it bothering you? You and Agar had barely meet. You needed to leave him alone. Ignoring the tears burning at your eyes you started to pack up your own stand. Working diligently placing all the produce back into the crates you'd brought them in. So busy you hadn't noticed Agar slid inside to stand behind you. Agar shifted on his heels he had come to help you, wanting to court you in the orc manner, but paused as he could smell your tears. Had that man come back? He'd crush his skull for making you cry. Agar chose to clear his throat to get your attention wishing to bring you comfort. What he wasn't anticipating was the terrified shriek that left your lips. Agar covered his ears stumbling back an slamming his head on one of the beams. He lowered himself to sit on the counter rubbing his large hand over the bump.

"Oh by the gods Agar I'm sorry you scared me." You cried out, pulling him down to inspect where he hit his head. Swatting his hand away so you could see better. "Luckily your not bleeding." You whispered as you gently ran your fingers thru his hair. His forehead was rested on your breast in this postion. Agar found his eyes sliding closed letting out a soft moan. You started to pull away worried that the sound he made was because of pain. Agar wrapped his arm around your waist resting his chin on your breast.

"It's okay I shouldn't have snuck up on you." Agar had opened his eyes to take you in once again, you looked so worried for him. He found himself smiling at the way you fiddled with his hair while holding eye contact with him. "Little one, what made you cry?" He found himself asking. You shook your head wiping at your eyes. You let out a sigh biting your lip.

"I thought I'd upset you. And that you'd no longer want anything to do with me. You were packing up your cart so quickly." You whispered looking down. Agar groaned in embarrassment.

"I was packing my cart up so quickly because I wanted to come help you. I hoped if I helped you perhaps you'd allow me to spend more time with you." Agar gently grabbed your hands unwillingly lifting his head from your breast. He couldn't help himself but to admire the differences between the two of you.

"You wanted to spend more time with me?" You asked drawing Agars gaze away from your hands. At the look of wonder mixed with delight on your face, Agar found himself moving once more this time pulling you closer to him as he sealed his lips against yours. He spread his thighs tugging you into the space in-between. Placing your hands onto his chest he groaned. He dragged his hand up your arm tangling his thick fingers into your hair as he deepened the kiss. You'd never been kissed like this before it was all fire, passion, and need. You felt as though Agar would never get his fill of you. As you moaned collapsing against him no longer able to hold yourself up on your shaky legs. Agar slid his tongue into your mouth, bringing you into a heated dance of your tongues. As Agar broke the kiss he chuckled at the soft dazed look on your face.

"Your so beautiful and kind. You smell like sunshine and taste like fresh fruit. How could I not want to spend time with you? Let's pack up your cart then we shall go for a stroll." You whined softly as he separated the two of you smiling brightly at your response. He was pleased that you where returning his affection. He had truly believed wooing you wouldn't be possible. Yet here you where looking at him with some much love he kept forgetting how to breath. You approached Agar as he put the last crate into your cart.

"Are you staying in town?" You asked. Agar look at you shaking his head.

"No the people normally prefer I don't stay in town. I rest in my cart." At his words you shook your head. You knew that humans and the mythical didn't get along but that felt like to much.

"Please Agar, come stay at my cabin. I'll make us a hot meal and you can sleep on an actual bed." You begged softly. Agar look down at you his eyes widened. He found himself nodding at a loss for words, especially when your face lit up in a bright smile upon his agreement. The travel to your cabin didn't take long. You lived in the forest, just outside the city walls.

"Why don't you live in town?" Agar asked. Taking in your home. You had paused a sad look settling on your face before you answered.

"Mmm my parents where what the towns people call wise men. My father would say they where historians. They'd take down knowledge of anything and everything they could. When my mother discovered she was pregnant they chose this forest. I've been here ever since." A soft silence once again settled between the two of you. You led the horses to the barn as Agar looked at you.

"How old where you when they left?" Agar asked softly.

"I was six. I really dont like talking about it. The people in town took good care of me helped me be an honest worker." You whispered entering your home Agar close behind. You showed Agar a place to wash up as you cooked dinner.

You and Agar enjoyed your meal sharing stories. Agar helped you clean up.

"I'll show you to the bedroom." You whispered leading the way down the hall. As you arrived to your bedroom and opened the door Agar blinked.

"This is really well furnished for a spare bedroom." He stated simply sitting down on the foot of the bed. You blushed fiddling with your fingers once more.

"It's my bedroom. I thought.... I thought we could sleep together." Agar smiled you where being so bold and brave.

"Come here little one." He groaned as he pulled you onto his lap. You whinned softly at the feeling of Agars cock pressed against your core. He chuckled at the needy sound lowering his head to kiss you. His hands gripping your ass slowly dragging you along his length. "You feel that little one. I've been like that all day watching you." He growled lowering his head to travel kisses and small nips with his tusk along your neck. He chuckled once more at the needy sounds leaving your lips. "So desperate love. Acting like I don't have every intention to stuff you full."

"Please Agar more. Want you to take me." You practically sobbed out. Agar burst out laughing at your antics making you pout.

"I have to prepare you little one I'm much to big for you to take me right away." He layed down flat on the bed. "Take off the rest of your clothes and come up here." At his order, you quickly threw off your gown and undergarments. Once again drawing a chuckle from Agar. He found your eagerness endearing. As you climbed onto his lap he shook his head. "Higher love. I cant feast on you from all the way down there." You looked at him swallowing heavily as he licked his lips and tusks. You made your way up untill your dripping cunt was hovering above his face.

"I what if I hurt you?" You asked holding yourself up. This time it was your turn to laugh. The look on Agars face was a mix between being insulted and bewilderment.

"I want you to try." He growled his hands closing around on your hips pulling you straight onto his face. Making you choke on your laughter as his tusk pressed right against your lips, opening you up for his thick tongue. At the first swipe along your clit you whined. He moaned low pushing his tongue into your opening. He rubbed his nose against your clit as he tried to touch the deepest parts of you with his tongue. Gasping and trying to pull away from the overwhelming pleasure he snarled in frustration. You where interrupting him, with a quick movement you where moving backwards. Finding yourself flat on the bed his face still buried inbetween your legs.

"Oh by the stars Agar I can't!" You cried out as he now had you fully pinned open to his assault. He was fucking you with his tongue every once in awhile giving special attention to your swollen clit. You continued to try to get away from the immense pleasure. Agar brought one arm up to settle on to your hips right under your stomach. Using his other hand he grabbed your leg moving it so he could slip his hand to your weeping cunt. He slid his ring finger into you. Just his one finger was already stretching you wider then his tongue had. You moaned your back arching. Agar didn't hesitate to add a second you where already so wet for him. Agar slid his fingers deeper, watching as you cum. You were such a sight spread out before him so ready, so willing, and so sensitive. As his fingers pressed against your g-spot you cried out the sensation dragging out your already intense orgasam. He groaned in delight making sure you rode out the high of your orgasm, continuing to fuck you with his fingers.

"Your so sweet little one." He sighed dragging his tongue up your sensitive cunt making you whine.

"I could live in between your legs, but now your ready for me. Catch your breath." His eyes were almost glowing with his need to have you. Agar was patient rubbing slowly circles on your thighs as your breathing slowed.

"Please Agar. I'm ready I want you." At your words, Agar moved pulling you towards him. He grabbed his cock in his hand dragging it along you wet folds. As he lined himself up with your entrance he locked his eyes onto yours. Slowly pushing himself in he gritted his teeth. Slow, he had to go slow, you were so wet and tight. He could fill his control slipping. Another soft moan left your lips. With that soft sound Agar could no longer resist. He pushed himself the rest of the way with a quick rough thrust, his balls smacked against your ass. You let out a loud groan your eyes sliding closed at the feeling of being filled.

"Oh no mate, your gonna keep those gorgeous eyes on me." Agar growled as he began to move. Your eyes flew open thanks to the way he was kissing your cervix with every thrust. "There's my pretty mate. So lovely so tight around me. Irresistible, I will never let you go."

Your nails where digging into his bicep. The pleasure was overwhelming you. You were getting close to cumming. With out thinking you sank your teeth into his chest. Agar groaned feeling your walls tightening on him. "My pretty girl your begging for my seed. Pulling me back so tight." At Agars next rough thrust you cried out into his chest

Agar roared as he slammed himself all the way into you, slamming into your cervix as he filled you with his seed. Agar brushed your hair away from your eyes taking in the way your eyes where dilated. How your breast rose and fell with each panting breath. Blinking away your tears you looked back at Agar.

"Did you mean it?" You asked softly. Agar looked at you with a soft tilt of his head.

"Mean what little one?" He asked as he ran his hands along anywhere he could easily reach.

"When you called me your mate?" You whispered hiding your face now afraid his answer would be no. You wanted to spend the rest of your life with Agar rather it be in your cabin or traveling by his side. Agar froze at your question he thought he had made that perfectly clear. Pulling his cock back he slid himself back in slowly to your sensitive cunt. Your eyes rolled back at the overwhelming pleasure. Agar leaned down resting his cheek against yours. Setting in a slow steady pace.

"I meant every word. Your mine little one. My mate, my lover, my heart. I'll make sure your always full of my offsprings. I'll make sure all you know is how much your mine." As Agar continued to thrust into you at his words your eyes flew open looking at him. Agar above you his green skin shining with sweat under the lanterns. His yellow eyes were filled with admiration and need.

Agar once again picked up his pace. Making you cry out.

"All yours Agar. Your mate. But please I'm so close. So sensitive." You sobbed out fresh tears falling down your cheeks. Agar groaned at your words sliding his hand under your waist he lifted you up to meet his thrust at his brutal pace. Agar closed his lips over yours Pulling you into a heavy kiss. As he slid his tongue into your mouth. You once again came on his cock. Agar slid all the way into you once more as he came. As Agar pulled out fully this time he watched his cum dripping out of your cunt and down your thighs. Dragging his finger along the cum he started pushing it back into your cunt. He wouldn't allow a drop to be wasted. Your back arched at this rate Agar would be the death of you.

"Agar please I...I need some rest." You stammered out. Agar looked at you letting out a soft grunt. He laid down back flat on the bed easily pulling you onto him. Your head rested on his chest while he had your legs inbeetween his thighs. He started to fiddle with your hair.

"Sleep my heart for once you awaken I will have you again." He stated smiling at you his eyes filled with the same look of love and admiration. Agar had finally found his heart and he would never abandoned her.

#orc x reader #monster fucker #monster x reader smut #beginner writer #monster smut #orc boyfriend #smut

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mostlysignssomeportents · 4 months ago

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An open copyright casebook, featuring AI, Warhol and more

I'm coming to DEFCON! On Aug 9, I'm emceeing the EFF POKER TOURNAMENT (noon at the Horseshoe Poker Room), and appearing on the BRICKED AND ABANDONED panel (5PM, LVCC - L1 - HW1–11–01). On Aug 10, I'm giving a keynote called "DISENSHITTIFY OR DIE! How hackers can seize the means of computation and build a new, good internet that is hardened against our asshole bosses' insatiable horniness for enshittification" (noon, LVCC - L1 - HW1–11–01).

Few debates invite more uninformed commentary than "IP" – a loosely defined grab bag that regulates an ever-expaning sphere of our daily activities, despite the fact that almost no one, including senior executives in the entertainment industry, understands how it works.

Take reading a book. If the book arrives between two covers in the form of ink sprayed on compressed vegetable pulp, you don't need to understand the first thing about copyright to read it. But if that book arrives as a stream of bits in an app, those bits are just the thinnest scrim of scum atop a terminally polluted ocean of legalese.

At the bottom layer: the license "agreement" for your device itself – thousands of words of nonsense that bind you not to replace its software with another vendor's code, to use the company's own service depots, etc etc. This garbage novella of legalese implicates trademark law, copyright, patent, and "paracopyrights" like the anticircumvention rule defined by Section 1201 of the DMCA:

https://www.eff.org/press/releases/eff-lawsuit-takes-dmca-section-1201-research-and-technology-restrictions-violate

Then there's the store that sold you the ebook: it has its own soporific, cod-legalese nonsense that you must parse; this can be longer than the book itself, and it has been exquisitely designed by the world's best-paid, best-trained lawyer to liquefy the brains of anyone who attempts to read it. Nothing will save you once your brains start leaking out of the corners of your eyes, your nostrils and your ears – not even converting the text to a brilliant graphic novel:

https://memex.craphound.com/2017/03/03/terms-and-conditions-the-bloviating-cruft-of-the-itunes-eula-combined-with-extraordinary-comic-book-mashups/

Even having Bob Dylan sing these terms will not help you grasp them:

https://pluralistic.net/2020/10/25/musical-chairs/#subterranean-termsick-blues

The copyright nonsense that accompanies an ebook transcends mere Newtonian physics – it exists in a state of quantum superposition. For you, the buyer, the copyright nonsense appears as a license, which allows the seller to add terms and conditions that would be invalidated if the transaction were a conventional sale. But for the author who wrote that book, the copyright nonsense insists that what has taken place is a sale (which pays a 25% royalty) and not a license (a 50% revenue-share). Truly, only a being capable of surviving after being smeared across the multiverse can hope to embody these two states of being simultaneously:

https://pluralistic.net/2022/06/21/early-adopters/#heads-i-win

But the challenge isn't over yet. Once you have grasped the permissions and restrictions placed upon you by your device and the app that sold you the ebook, you still must brave the publisher's license terms for the ebook – the final boss that you must overcome with your last hit point and after you've burned all your magical items.

This is by no means unique to reading a book. This bites us on the job, too, at every level. The McDonald's employee who uses a third-party tool to diagnose the problems with the McFlurry machine is using a gadget whose mere existence constitutes a jailable felony:

https://pluralistic.net/2021/04/20/euthanize-rentier-enablers/#cold-war

Meanwhile, every single biotech researcher is secretly violating the patents that cover the entire suite of basic biotech procedures and techniques. Biotechnicians have a folk-belief in "patent fair use," a thing that doesn't exist, because they can't imagine that patent law would be so obnoxious as to make basic science into a legal minefield.

IP is a perfect storm: it touches everything we do, and no one understands it.

Or rather, almost no one understands it. A small coterie of lawyers have a perfectly fine grasp of IP law, but most of those lawyers are (very well!) paid to figure out how to use IP law to screw you over. But not every skilled IP lawyer is the enemy: a handful of brave freedom fighters, mostly working for nonprofits and universities, constitute a resistance against the creep of IP into every corner of our lives.

Two of my favorite IP freedom fighters are Jennifer Jenkins and James Boyle, who run the Duke Center for the Public Domain. They are a dynamic duo, world leading demystifiers of copyright and other esoterica. They are the creators of a pair of stunningly good, belly-achingly funny, and extremely informative graphic novels on the subject, starting with the 2008 Bound By Law, about fair use and film-making:

https://www.dukeupress.edu/Bound-by-Law/

And then the followup, THEFT! A History of Music:

https://web.law.duke.edu/musiccomic/

Both of which are open access – that is to say, free to download and share (you can also get handsome bound print editions made of real ink sprayed on real vegetable pulp!).

Beyond these books, Jenkins and Boyle publish the annual public domain roundups, cataloging the materials entering the public domain each January 1 (during the long interregnum when nothing entered the public domain, thanks to the Sonny Bono Copyright Extension Act, they published annual roundups of all the material that should be entering the public domain):

https://pluralistic.net/2023/12/20/em-oh-you-ess-ee/#sexytimes

This year saw Mickey Mouse entering the public domain, and Jenkins used that happy occasion as a springboard for a masterclass in copyright and trademark:

https://pluralistic.net/2023/12/15/mouse-liberation-front/#free-mickey

But for all that Jenkins and Boyle are law explainers, they are also law professors and as such, they are deeply engaged with minting of new lawyers. This is a hard job: it takes a lot of work to become a lawyer.

It also takes a lot of money to become a lawyer. Not only do law-schools charge nosebleed tuition, but the standard texts set by law-schools are eye-wateringly expensive. Boyle and Jenkins have no say over tuitions, but they have made a serious dent in the cost of those textbooks. A decade ago, the pair launched the first open IP law casebook: a free, superior alternative to the $160 standard text used to train every IP lawyer:

https://web.archive.org/web/20140923104648/https://web.law.duke.edu/cspd/openip/

But IP law is a moving target: it is devouring the world. Accordingly, the pair have produced new editions every couple of years, guaranteeing that their free IP law casebook isn't just the best text on the subject, it's also the most up-to-date. This week, they published the sixth edition:

https://web.law.duke.edu/cspd/openip/

The sixth edition of Intellectual Property: Law & the Information Society – Cases & Materials; An Open Casebook adds sections on the current legal controversies about AI, and analyzes blockbuster (and batshit) recent Supreme Court rulings like Vidal v Elster, Warhol v Goldsmith, and Jack Daniels v VIP Products. I'm also delighted that they chose to incorporate some of my essays on enshittification (did you know that my Pluralistic.net newsletter is licensed CC Attribution, meaning that you can reprint and even sell it without asking me?).

(On the subject of Creative Commons: Boyle helped found Creative Commons!)

Ten years ago, the Boyle/Jenkins open casebook kicked off a revolution in legal education, inspiring many legals scholars to create their own open legal resources. Today, many of the best legal texts are free (as in speech) and free (as in beer). Whether you want to learn about trademark, copyright, patents, information law or more, there's an open casebook for you:

https://pluralistic.net/2021/08/14/angels-and-demons/#owning-culture

The open access textbook movement is a stark contrast with the world of traditional textbooks, where a cartel of academic publishers are subjecting students to the scammiest gambits imaginable, like "inclusive access," which has raised the price of textbooks by 1,000%:

https://pluralistic.net/2021/10/07/markets-in-everything/#textbook-abuses

Meanwhile, Jenkins and Boyle keep working on this essential reference. The next time you're tempted to make a definitive statement about what IP permits – or prohibits – do yourself (and the world) a favor, and look it up. It won't cost you a cent, and I promise you you'll learn something.

Support me this summer on the Clarion Write-A-Thon and help raise money for the Clarion Science Fiction and Fantasy Writers' Workshop!

If you'd like an essay-formatted version of this post to read or share, here's a link to it on pluralistic.net, my surveillance-free, ad-free, tracker-free blog:

https://pluralistic.net/2024/07/30/open-and-shut-casebook/#stop-confusing-the-issue-with-relevant-facts

Image: Cryteria (modified) Jenkins and Boyle https://web.law.duke.edu/musiccomic/

CC BY-NC-SA 4.0 https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-nc-sa/4.0/

#pluralistic #jennifer jenkins #james boyle #ip #law #law school #publishing #open access #scholarship #casebooks #copyright #copyfight #gen ai #ai #warhol

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najia-cooks · 1 year ago

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[ID: A bowl of avocado spread sculpted into a pattern, topped with olive oil and garnished with symmetrical lines of nigella seeds and piles of pomegranate seeds; a pile of pita bread is in the background. End ID]

متبل الأفوكادو / Mutabbal al-'afukadu (Palestinian avocado dip)

Avocados are not native to Palestine. Israeli settlers planted them in Gaza in the 1980s, before being evicted when Israel evacuated all its settlements in Gaza in 2005. The avocados, however, remained, and Gazans continued to cultivate them for their fall and winter harvest. Avocados have been folded into the repertoire of a "new" Palestinian cuisine, as Gazans and other Palestinians have found ways to interpret them.

Palestinians may add local ingredients to dishes traditionally featuring avocado (such as Palestinian guacamole, "جواكامولي فلسطيني" or "غواكامولي فلسطيني"), or use avocado in Palestinian dishes that typically use other vegetables (pickling them, for example, or adding them to salads alongside tomato and cucumber).

Another dish in this latter category is حمص الافوكادو (hummus al-'afukadu)—avocado hummus—in which avocado is smoothly blended with lemon juice, white tahina (طحينة البيضاء, tahina al-bayda'), salt, and olive oil. Yet another is متبّل الأفوكادو (mutabbal al-'afukadu). Mutabbal is a spiced version of بابا غنوج (baba ghannouj)‎: "مُتَبَّل" means "spiced" or "seasoned," from "مُ" "mu-," a participlizing prefix, + "تَبَّلَ" "tabbala‎," "to have spices added to." Here, fresh avocado replaces the roasted eggplant usually used to make this smooth dip; it is mixed with green chili pepper, lemon juice, garlic, white tahina, sumac, and labna (لبنة) or yoghurt. Either of these dishes may be topped with sesame or nigella seeds, pomegranate seeds, fresh dill, or chopped nuts, and eaten with sliced and toasted flatbread.

Avocados' history in Palestine precedes their introduction to Gaza. They were originally planted in 1908 by a French order of monks, but these trees have not survived. It was after the Balfour Declaration of 1917 (in which Britain, having been promised colonial control of Palestine with the dissolution of the Ottoman Empire after World War 1, pledged to establish "a national home for the Jewish people" in Palestine) that avocado agriculture began to take root.

In the 1920s, 30s, and 40s, encouraged by Britain, Jewish Europeans began to immigrate to Palestine in greater numbers and establish agricultural settlements (leaving an estimated 29.4% of peasant farming families without land by 1929). Seeds and seedlings from several varieties of avocado were introduced from California by private companies, research stations, and governmental bodies (including Mikveh Israel, a school which provided settlers with agricultural training). In these years, prices were too high for Palestinian buyers, and quantities were too low for export.

It wasn't until after the beginning of the Nakba (the ethnic cleansing of Palestinians from "Jewish" areas following the UN partition of Palestine in 1947) that avocado plantings became significant. With Palestinians having been violently expelled from most of the area's arable land, settlers were free to plant avocados en masse for export, aided (until 1960) by long-term, low-interest loans from the Israeli government. The 400 acres planted within Israel's claimed borders in 1955 ballooned to 2,000 acres in 1965, then 9,000 by 1975, and over 17,000 by 1997. By 1986, Israel was producing enough avocados to want to renegotiate trade agreements with Europe in light of the increase.

Israeli companies also attained commercial success selling avocados planted on settlements within the West Bank. As of 2014, an estimated 4.5% of Israeli avocado exports were grown in the occupied Jordan Valley alone (though data about crops grown in illegal settlements is of course difficult to obtain). These crops were often tended by Palestinian workers, including children, in inhumane conditions and at starvation wages. Despite a European Union order to specify the origin of such produce as "territories occupied by Israel since 1967," it is often simply marked "Israel." Several grocery stores across Europe, including Carrefour, Lidl, Dunnes Stores, and Aldi, even falsified provenance information on avocados and other fruits in order to circumvent consumer boycotts of goods produced in Israel altogether—claiming, for example, that they were from Morocco or Cyprus.

Meanwhile, while expanding its own production of avocados, Israel was directing, limiting, and destabilizing Palestinian agriculture in an attempt to eliminate competition. In 1982, Israel prohibited the planting of fruit trees without first obtaining permission from military authorities; in practice, this resulted in Palestinians (in Gaza and the West Bank) being entirely barred from planting new mango and avocado trees, even to replace old, unproductive ones.

Conditions worsened in the years following the second intifada. Between September of 2000 and September of 2003, Israeli military forces destroyed wells, pumps, and an estimated 85% of the agricultural land in al-Sayafa, northern Gaza, where farmers had been using irrigation systems and greenhouses to grow fruits including citrus, apricots, and avocados. They barred almost all travel into and out of al-Sayafa: blocking off all roads that lead to the area, building barricades topped with barbed wire, preventing entry within 150 meters of the barricade under threat of gunfire, and opening crossings only at limited times of day and only for specific people, if at all.

A July 2001 prohibition on Palestinian vehicles within al-Sayafa further slashed agricultural production, forcing farmers to rely on donkeys and hand carts to tend their fields and to transport produce across the crossing. If the crossing happened to be closed, or the carts could not transport all the produce in time, fruits and vegetables would sit waiting in the sun until they rotted and could not be sold. The 2007 blockade worsened Gaza's economy still further, strictly limiting imports and prohibiting exports entirely (though later on, there would be exceptions made for small quantities of specific crops).

In the following years, Israel allowed imports of food items into Gaza not exceeding the bare minimum for basic sustenance, based on an estimation of the caloric needs of its inhabitants. Permitted (apples, bananas, persimmons, flour) and banned items for import (avocados, dates, grapes) were ostensibly based on "necessary" versus "luxury" foods, but were in fact directed according to where Israeli farmers could expect the most profit.

Though most of the imports admitted into Gaza continued to come from Israel, Gazan farmers kept pursuing self-sufficiency. In 2011, farmers working on a Hamas-government-led project in the former settlements produced avocados, mangoes, and most of the grapes, onions, and melons that Gazans ate; by 2015, though still forbidden from exporting excess, they were self-sufficient in the production of crops including onions, watermelon, cantaloupe, grapes, almonds, olives, and apples.

Support Palestinian resistance by calling Elbit System’s (Israel’s primary weapons manufacturer) landlord, donating to Palestine Action’s bail fund, and donating to the Bay Area Anti-Repression Committee bail fund.

Ingredients:

2 medium avocados (300g total)

1/4 cup white tahina

2 Tbsp labna (لبنة), or yoghurt (laban, لبن رايب)

1 green chili pepper

2 cloves garlic

2 Tbsp good olive oil

Juice of 1/2 lemon (1 1/2 Tbsp)

1 tsp table salt, or to taste

Pomegranate seeds, slivered almonds, pine nuts, chopped dill, nigella seeds, sesame seeds, sumac, and/or olive oil, to serve

Khubiz al-kmaj (pita bread), to serve

Instructions:

1. In a mortar and pestle, crush garlic, pepper, and a bit of salt into a fine paste.

2. Add avocados and mash to desired texture. Stir in tahina, labna, olive oil, lemon juice, and additional salt.

You can also combine all ingredients in a blender or food processor.

3. Top with a generous drizzle of olive oil. Add toppings, as desired.

4. Cut pita into small rectangles or triangles and separate one half from the other (along where the pocket is). Toast in the oven, or in a large, dry skillet, stirring occasionally, until golden brown. Serve dip alongside toasted pita chips.

#Palestinian #avocados #tahina #lemons #long post /#gluten free

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gremlin-girly · 2 months ago

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Flufftober Day 4

From: @flufftober

Prompt: Market Day

Title: The Love of Plums

Pairing: Bucky x gn!Reader

Warnings/tags: FLUFF, CW!Bucky but mostly tooth rotting fluff (with a hint of sad! This is CW Bucky after all), no beta

Summary: You go shopping at the market for plums for a baked treat and share a cute moment with a stranger over plums.

Word count:

A/N: This is more of a wholesome moment between Bucky and reader, rather than a big ol' romantic one. The man just wanted his plums in CA:CW and I couldn't resist with this prompt😌 Although if anyone noticed that Bucky holds the plum with his left hand... I'm sorry- Love, Grem x

I hope you enjoy! Likes, comments and reblogs are always appreciated 💜

Prev | Next | Masterlist

Spiced plum jam. Apple and plum loaf. Caramelised plum tart.

You stood before the box of plums in awe, ideas swirling in your head as you stared at the big, purple orbs in front of you.

Poached plums and figs with brie, spread on crunchy, toasted bread....

Your mouth started to water. You couldn’t come to the market and not get some plums. Especially when they looked this delicious and ripe. They were just the right amount of squidge which meant they were juicy too.

“I’ll take ten.” You tell the shopkeep, who smiles down at you as he fixes a brown paper bag with ten huge plums, uttering the price.

“Don’t eat them all at once,” He chuckles, handing the bag to you and taking the money from your outstretched palm. The exchange is swift, friendly, and a mutual understanding of pride and admiration between farmer and cook.

You flash a grin to the shopkeep as you head back through to the main thrum of the market.

“I’ll try my best!”

You’re clutching your brown paper bag tightly to your chest like your life depends on it. The market was busier than usual today and you’d be dammed if you wasted another moment not eating a juicy plum.

The crowd parts briefly and you spot a bench just off the path beneath some trees. You make a bee-line for it, weaving quickly and smoothly through the throng of people. The trees rustle above you, cascading leaves in hues of bronze, gold and yellow onto the path. It was a crisp autumn day. There was a breeze but it wasn't too cold, not yet anyway, but a clear signal of the change in season.

You dig a hand into your plum bag, pulling out one of your many treasures, looking out over the market. Your bag remains perched on your lap as you watch buyers yell out deals, prepare food or bags of goods and haggle with customers. All sorts of different smells mingled together; from newly fried donuts and coffees and fresh vegetables and fruits all the way to savoury pastries and the fish stall. It was a myriad for the senses and always the highlight of your week when you could come.

You go to take a bite out of your plum when something shifts in your right peripheral. Your eyes flicker beside you and you're startled to find a man next to you. He's sat on the other side of the bench with a backpack strapped to him and there's a baseball cap casting a shadow over his handsome features. He's not looking at you but over at the market, wearing a forlorn expression that makes your chest ache gently.

You don't know him. You don't know what his story is. But from that expression alone, you know he needs something good to happen today.

You glance down at the plum in your hand thoughtfully and then back to him. You shuffle a little closer, awkwardly steadying the paper bag on your lap, when he looks over to you wide eyed and nervous.

You hold out the plum in your hand to him with a soft, friendly smile.

“Plum?”

He looks over at you like the human equivalent of a question mark.

“You... want one? Sorry, maybe I should have clarified instead of announcing it’s a plum.”

He still looks at you strangely, as if he's surprised by the friendly gesture, but there's a ghost of a smile as he looks between you and the purple sphere in your hand. He tentatively holds out a gloved palm and you place the plum into his hand. He squishes it gently, glancing at it with concentration like he’s trying to feel for something.

“They’re perfect aren’t they?” You say watching him, trying to hype up the plum to him. "They're ripe so they'll be extra sweet."

The stranger says nothing but still looks appreciatively at the plum in his hand, rolling it between his thumb and palm.

You point to the direction of the stall, babbling a little to try to fight the awkwardness of the one-sided conversation you were having. “The stall is just over there. I’d go before they sell out.”

He follows your finger, gaze cautious and alert, but he nods.

"Thanks," he mumbles in a gruff voice, which makes you stifle a sigh of relief. You offer him another smile as you retrieve a new plum for yourself, toasting it to him before taking a large, long-awaited bite. Plum juice trickles down your chin and your free hand rushes to cup it before it stains your clothes. You mutter a curse around the plum flesh, blushing a little when you hear a quiet chuckle from the man beside you.

"What did I say?" You try for a charming smile but your mouth is still covered with plum juice and flesh. "Ripe."

The stranger's smile widens and he shakes his head quietly. You can't help the warmth that spreads in your chest at the sight. He looks even more handsome when he smiles; the furrowed brows of anxiety replaced with crinkles around his eyes. You give him a delicate nudge with your elbow.

"Your turn."

He considers it a moment, regarding the plum, before taking a shy bite of his own. Plum juice still manages to dribble down his chin, causing you to stifle a giggle. The stranger's eyes widen with delight, wiping his face with a free gloved hand and he's still smiling.

"They are ripe," he chuckles and takes another bite.

"I did warn you." You mimick his action and take another bite, smaller than your last thankfully. A comfortable silence settles between you as you eat the plums, a soft breeze blowing leaves gently over both of your feet.

"Thank you." The stranger says quietly, after he's finished eating. "That was...nice of you."

You flash another smile. "No problem."

He smiles back and silently rises to his feet, towering above you. Your gaze travels up his form, lingering a little too long when you realise your still mid-way through a bite of plum.

"I... Hope you have a good day." You say gently.

He nods again, cheeks dusting pink. "You too. I... think I might take a look at those plums actually."

"Tell the shop keep the weirdo that bought ten plums sent you. He might give you a discount." You chuckle, earning you another soft, eye-crinkling smile.

"I will. Thanks."

"Stop thanking me. You've said it three times." You huff, mock-annoyed, and then grin. "See ya 'round."

"See you." He nods again and you watch him melt away into the crowd in the direction of the fruit stall with the delicious plums.

You sigh softly into the air, enjoying the final moments of peace with your plum. You wonder if you helped to make the stranger's day better, and if you'll bump into him at the market again. As you leave the market with your (now eight) plums in tow, you think about the stranger and wonder if he will remember you but you shake your head of the thought. It was a fleeting moment of kindness between strangers. You'd probably never see him again. You'd probably not remember him, let alone him remember you.

However, you would be wrong. James Buchanan Barnes always remembered one of the first acts of kindness he experienced after escaping HYDRA. One of the first times he smiled in a very long time.

He never forgot the stranger and their plums.

#flufftober #flufftober 2024 #fluff #no beta we die like men #gn!reader #bucky x reader #bucky barnes #marvel mcu #mcu fandom #bucky x you #bucky x y/n #meet cute #day 4 #gremlin girly #gremlin girly writes #bucky fluff #bucky fanfic

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humanitys-strongest-bamf · 1 year ago

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hi Kat, huge congrats on reaching 2K 💕 for the event, could I request a post-war Dadvi drabble where the happy family is living somewhere in Marley & celebrating Levi's birthday?

hi flo! :3 i rly want to commission someone to draw levi holding a baby in his lap now kjdskfj

Making a Fuss | 2K Follower Event | Post-War Dadvi Drabble

✧ word count ➼ < 800 ✧ notes ➼ post-war, fluff

The farmer's market was a bit more crowded today in terms of both vendors and buyers. Although most of the produce was sold earlier in the fall, there were still fruits and vegetables that had been harvested from the gardening that had occurred the year prior. A few years after the end of the Rumbling, the world was slowly getting pieced back together.

Walking from your house to the market and then through the market to the bakery was going to be a bit of a longer journey, so you were pushing Levi through the lineup of vendors as he sat in his wheelchair. It was ultimately for the best. Since he was seated, he was able to sit with your 7-month old in his lap, although your child was beginning to get restless from the amount of people around you. He wanted nothing more than to escape Levi's lap and crawl around, but Levi had a firm grip on him.

You had originally said that you were only wanting to pick up some vegetables and hang out at the bakery for the afternoon, but Levi wasn't dumb. It was too much of a coincidence that you had been this insistent on going out on his birthday. You had something planned.

His eyes went from staring at the bakery off in the distance down to your child that was busy babbling and tugging on his shirt. He had been fine as Levi occasionally distracted him by chatting with him or poking him, but it was clear that he was getting restless.

Levi heard you shuffling around behind him and you reached over his shoulder while holding a small plush shaped like a cat, handing it to your child to play with.

You ruffled your baby's jet black hair, which matched the hue of his father's. It hadn't thickened up enough for you to be able to style it yet, but you knew that your heart was going to melt as soon as you saw your baby wearing the same undercut as Levi.

Levi's nose immediately scrunched up as he gave his child a wary look the minute the teething toddler began gnawing at the plushie, very quickly covering part of the stuffed animal in his own slobber.

"Would you rather him be gnawing on his hands that have been touching every surface we've seen since leaving the house?"

The only response you heard from Levi was a gentle grunt as he acknowledged your comment.

You wheeled Levi and your baby over to a corner table on the outside porch of the bakery as soon as you arrived before walking inside to pick up the order that you had placed ahead of time.

You knew that Levi was not one to enjoy gifts, but you wanted to at least do something to celebrate. Plus, the three of you needed to get out of the house and go somewhere other than the teashop.

"No way," you uttered affectionately as you redirected your child's grabby hands away from the pastry cake you held in your hands. "I didn't even set this thing down yet."

While your child looked overly excited for the sugary treat that he technically wasn't even supposed to have yet, Levi held a skeptical expression, with one eyebrow raised higher than the other.

"Oh c'mon, it's like your first day off in what...two weeks?" you asked in an exasperated tone as you sat down. "I know you're very adamant about keeping the teashop together, but you should at least be allowed to celebrate your birthday."

"I've had days off."

You scoffed, clearly not believing him.

"Yeah, and you choose to spend them at the shop despite the fact that Gabi and Falco have been helping out."

"And leave the fate of the shop to those brats? Fuck no."

A scowl quickly appeared on your face as you visually berated him for cursing in front of your child, although you already knew that he didn't really care too much about that concept of not cursing in front of him.

He tightened his grip on his child that was getting increasingly fussy and turned him around to look into his eyes that matched yours in color.

"You have never made a fuss about your birthday, have you?" he asked with a serious expression. "Maybe you should have a chat with your mother."

You gently smacked Levi's shoulder with an annoyed, but also subtly amused look.

"He hasn't had a birthday yet, you dumbass."

You vaguely heard him scoff at your comment, amused at the fact that you cursed almost immediately after judging him for cursing within earshot of your baby.

"Just accept the 'happy birthday', you asshole."

#levi x reader #levi ackerman x reader #levi heichou x reader #captain levi x reader #levi fluff #follower event #levi #levi ackerman #levi heichou #captain levi #attack on titan #aot #shingeki no kyojin #shingeki no kyoujin #snk

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its-in-the-woods · 6 months ago

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Coyote Head - Part 2 -Creeping Shadows

master list

Part 1,

Pairing: Cooper Howard x Lucy Maclean

Alternative Universe where I make things up cause I ca

Synopsis: After a month of getting settled in her new home, Lucy is awoken in the middle of the night. Something strange is happening, but she isn't sure what to make of it.

MINOR GET OUT. Rating/Warning: Alternative Universe, Slow Burn, Death, Aging, Family Feuding, Eventually: Older Man/Younger Woman, Horror themes, long form fic,

Note: that I will not be spoiling any of the reading. So you have been warned. I will keep my tags relevant without spoiling what is happening in the story.

Lucy put on another pot of coffee, it was late in the evening now. But there was still lots to do. She had cleared a whole section of the wall to lay the map out, she had taken a black marker to outline each piece of land she owned. Then she took sticky notes with tenants' info and stuck them on each piece of property. Besides the maps, she had put up a whiteboard, with to-do lists. More papers were put up with contact info, wholesalers, buyers, butchers, and more. She felt a little more settled about all of it. It was still confusing as hell, but it made her feel good to see it like this. She had always been more of a visual learner.

Then there were taxes, initially, Lucy figured she could do it. But after going through her Grandpa’s files, she was completely overwhelmed. So tomorrow she’d be phoning around to see who could help her with taxes. Tomorrow would be a town day Lucy decided. She would talk to a few accountants and see if the bank had finalized transfers. Everything took time, and out here everything ran on country time. So things took a little longer, but it would get done. She wanted to get some fresh vegetables, garden seeds, and gloves. The only gloves here were her Grandpa’s, she had put a pair up beside the door. She hadn't been able to put them on or get rid of them. So they stayed by the door and the rest tucked into the closet.

She added calling the tractor dealership to her list, there were a couple of older models that had been sitting for a while. She wanted them to be looked over and get them running. She knew basic stuff but getting someone out who knew what they were doing was desperately needed. As she sipped on her coffee looking at the different spreadsheets on her computer Lucy pondered about maybe getting some chickens. An old coop tucked in the woods close to the house, would be perfect. Of course, chickens meant predators.

Rubbing her head she pushed the thought of chickens out of her mind. There were so many other things that needed to be done first. Her mind went to Cooper, her mind had been wandering over to him a lot since he had stopped by. Lucy tried to remember where she had seen him before. She knew he had been at the funeral, he had been with Richard Howard. Howard's family, her mind tried to remember who they were. She remembered that Richard was good friends with her Grandpa. They had had all boys, four or five of them. Most of them had married and stayed in the area. But Cooper had moved down south with his wife. At least that’s what Lucy could remember. It was always hard to keep all the different families straight.

Lucy had finished her coffee and looked out through the big window. There was a back deck with a BBQ, a table with chairs, and a closed umbrella. Past that it was dark, that was something she still needed to get used to. Once night hit it was very dark out here, the starlight illuminated the grass, but once you hit the woods it was pitch black. Looking out through the window Lucy felt a shiver run up her spine. It felt like something was watching her, as if she peered just enough she would be able to see something move.

Backing away from the window she grabbed the pull string and closed the blinds.

“Yeah, I definitely need to get some dogs. Maybe lights, a few lights would be good,” Lucy said out loud, “Also renew my gun license.”

Lucy woke in the middle of the night confused, sweat had broken out across her brow, the room was cool but she was on fire. Tossing back the heavy quilted blanket she fumbled for the side table light. As the light turned on Lucy screamed as a black shadow darted into the closest. Grabbing her phone, and a machete that was tucked beside the bed. Lucy moved toward the closet. Pulling the doors open she raised the machete flicking on the closet lights. Nothing.

Sagging Lucy looked around the rest of the room. There was no sign of anything, taking several deep breaths she threw on a housecoat and walked through the whole house. Checked the laundry room, kitchen, living room, hall closer, spare bath, and bedroom. Nothing.

Sitting on the edge of the spare bed her heart finally slowed down. “You’ve been here a month and you’re already jumping at shadows, Lucy,”

Walking back to her room, she went to walk by the kitchen window. The blinds were up again. Lucy stopped there confused as to why they were now up. Looking out, something flickered and ran across the grass into the woods. She grabbed the blinds and dropped them again. There wouldn’t be any sleep tonight.

The morning sun had peaked through the tall trees, thank god it was spring. Spring meant earlier and earlier sunrises, and after last night Lucy was more than happy to see it pop up. Lucy clutched her coffee mug in one hand and her phone in the other. She had done her damndest not to phone anyone all night. The last thing she needed was people thinking she was some chicken-shit city slicker.

“You are beyond tired,” She sighed, rubbing her face, “You should go lay down for an hour.”

Looking through her bedroom door she saw her bed, blankets, and pillows still askew. As much as she wanted to, the thought of even trying to sleep made her stomach turn.

“Maybe when we get back from town,” she said quietly, standing up and leaving her cup on the table.

Throwing on some clothes, and making sure nothing was inside out, Lucy hurried to grab her purse and keys. Once outside she took a deep breath, it smelt like rain and grass. Her heart slowed as she made her way over to the beat-up Chevy in the driveway. Putting the truck into gear she sped up and onto the dirt road.

The drive is peaceful, gravel roads kicking up pieces of stone, it’s about ten minutes before she reaches anything paved. Once on the pavement, she rolled down her window, just enough to smell the fresh air. Grabbing a pair of sunglasses she slips those on to head southwest to Roseville. It had been affectionately named the driveby town. Smack middle between the south and north of the area. A crossroads divided the town into four neat sections. It had never been a booming town, more of a trading post or place to rest between cities. Over the last decade, the current mayor and council had done their damndest to try and attract more folks to live there. It had sort of worked. They now had a new rec center, hockey rink, and Tim Horton’s had moved in. The population stayed around three thousand. It was a small place surrounded by farmers’ fields and woodland reserves. The place boasted four bars, three grocery stores, a handful of terrible restaurants, a couple of hair salons, ten churches, and an elementary slash high school. Not to forget the two farm equipment dealerships and four feed stores. If you went south or west you’d hit some of the large cities. Though groceries were significantly cheaper there, many folks still stayed in town. This was especially true during the winter when the highway was one missed salt truck away from a death trap.

Lucy pulled into the Super-K-Mart, parked her truck, and grabbed her purse. She was feeling the lack of sleep now, the spike of adrenaline fading. Maybe a stop at the cafe down the street was needed. She briefly wondered when she had become such a scaredy cat and coffee drinker. Even doing work at the hospital she had never drunk this much caffeine. Trying to shake the feeling off of her, she grabbed a cart, pulling out her phone with a small list of needs. Lucy noted that she needed to ask her Uncle when the farmer’s markets started up, the grocery stores were good for hard goods, but fresh produce was lacking. Still, she grabbed a handful of apples, bananas, a few peppers, and head lettuce. Most of it looked sorta fresh. She went over to the meat section, she cringed internally at the price of the meat. Grateful that she had a freezer full of Grandpa’s cows and neighbor’s pigs. She grabbed a discounted chicken, maybe some soup was needed.

“Hey,” Came a familiar voice, “Won’t be buying any of that. Most of it’s from way south.”

Turning she saw Cooper leaning against his cart, a small smile playing across his lips. Man wore a loose-fitting black t-shirt, a grey zip-up hoody overtop, blue jeans, and boots. All he was missing was his hat. Lucy tried her best to hide that she was looking over the man.

“Do you know where I could get some decent chicken?” Lucy asked as she put down the offending carcass. Tilting her head at him with a smile, something about the man made her heart skip.

Cooper nodded his head, “Yep, can swing by my place. Got a freezer full. Can trade yah for maybe some of that fine tallow Shirley always kept around. Pretty sure Tim kept making it.”

Lucy chuckles, the freezer had at least a dozen jars of rendered tallow at home. Plus, nothing beats fresh chicken, “I think that’s more than a fair trade,” She replied, moving over to follow him down one of the small aisles.

“You look a little worn down today,” He says as he stops in front of a shelf of cereal, Lucy looking at all the various brands in front of her. Cringing inwardly at the comment, she hadn't thought about how she must look.

“Long night,” She replies, noticing that his cart has fruit, some veg, sandwich meat, white bread, and various snack bars.

He grabs some Cheerios and a box of lucky charms,” Mmhmm, can take a bit to get used to being outside the town.”

Lucy grabbed some mini wheat and a bag of oatmeal, watching the man move about the aisle, “Yeah, must be something like that. Didn’t picture you as a Lucky Charms guy.”

He chuckles, grabbing at bag of oatmeal as well, “My daughter refuses to eat anything but those in the morning. I try to sprinkle some fruit in, occasionally when she allows it.”

“Didn’t know you had kids,” Lucy replies, as they walked to the next aisle. She felt her heart clench a little, thinking he probably had a wife at home.

“Yeah, Janey is ten and Matthias just turned twelve.” He says a fond smile crossing his face. “Didn’t see any kids at your place.”

“Nah, I was too busy looking after Grandpa and before that school,” Lucy replies, it’s true she didn’t have much of a love life. Few flings here and there, and the one relationship she had had had ended bitterly when Grandpa got sick.

He reached and grabbed a box of spaghetti, “I can relate. Between the kids, the farm, and looking after Dad. Not really a lot of room for dating.”

Lucy grabs a couple of cans of corn, “Oh? Divorced?” Her heart surged a little at the thought he was single. Single with kids, she reminded herself.

Something dark passes over his face like he is remembering a bad memory. “No. Umm. widower, actually. Lost her about seven years ago.”

Lucy stops feeling like an asshole for not knowing, “Oh. I am sorry about that.”

Cooper shrugs, his face masking what clearly was pain. “You didn’t know. Long story.”

The two of them moved onto the freezer section, Lucy feeling awkward about the whole thing. She hadn’t known he’d lost her wife, she didn’t know a lot of things. With that said she could have maybe used a little more tack. It wasn’t her strongest trait, she was a straightforward person. But sometimes things needed a more delicate touch.

“Have you heard about anything happening in the woods around us,” Lucy says, trying to change the subject. Even if it was about the fact she couldn't sleep due to shadows that were probably nothing.

“Happening?” Cooper asks as he drops two bags of curly fries into his cart.

Lucy shrugs, “Thought I saw something, or someone moving around the forest last night.”

“Need to get yourself a few dogs,” Cooper replies, grabbing a bag of perogies.

“Yeah, it’s on the to-do list. Just, sorta, spooked me I guess,” Lucy replies, not sure how to broach the subject without sounding like a damsel in distress.

Cooper stops and looks at her, “Why don’t I swing by this afternoon? I pick the kids up at the end of the road at four. I will stop by and I can walk the property with yah. Make sure there isn’t any sign of someone coming on the property.”

Lucy was taken aback by his forwardness, but also grateful he seemed to take her concerns seriously. “Are you sure? I don’t want to impose.”

“Nonsense, better to know there isn’t some creep living in the woods than not.” He replied as you both made your way to the registers.

“I really appreciate that. I don’t want to be a bother, just on my own,” Lucy replies with a small smile.

“I just phone call away,” Cooper replies as they unload their carts.

The door to the trailer was open, Lucy is stuck motionless in the truck cabin. She knew she’d locked the door, a habit that had always irritated her family, but she did nonetheless. From her spot she could see that the door was askew, possibly kicked in, papers flying about as the wind blew in. She grabbed her phone, hitting her Uncle’s number with trembling fingers.

“Lucy, how’s it going-” Harris added cheerfully.

“I think someone broke into the house,” She hissed, her free hand pulling the stick shift into reverse and starting to back down the road.

“Shit,” The man cursed, “I will be right there, do not go inside.”

“Wasn’t planning on it,” She muttered as he hung up the phone. She backed up until she hit the gate. The gate that had been locked and closed when she came home, felt fear run up her spine as she opened the gate, backed up, and parked the truck down the road.

A moment later she saw a truck with a cloud of dust behind it roaring up the road. A beat-up red Ford with Cooper sitting in the front. He slides to a stop beside Lucy.

“Your Uncle called,” He said, his forehead wrinkled as he looked at Lucy over, “Someone broke into the house?”

Lucy nods, fear making it hard for her to speak, her hands shaking in her lap. Her heart was pounding in her chest, even with Cooper there she was nervous.

“I am going to go in, follow me but stay in the truck,” Cooper says as he jerks his vehicle into gear and turns down the road.

Lucy looked in the rearview, there was no sign of Harris yet, she jerked her vehicle into first and drove back down. Cooper had driven his truck up the small embankment, parking by the door. She watched as he got out, shotgun in hand, pulling her truck by his.

The door wasn’t just askew, the top two hinges had been busted. The deadbolt having gouged along the door frame, papers, and artwork littered the floor. Her breath caught in her throat as she waited for him to come out. It felt like an eternity before she saw him, his brows scrunched as he beckoned her inside.

part Three

** If you enjoyed the fic let me know! Likes, reblogs and comments are always appreciated.

** Want to be on the tag list let me know

** Most of my fics will be updated once a weekish possibly more often depending on how much writing I can get done! Want to keep the quality and make sure I am putting out my best work.

#alternate universe #au #fallout #cooper howard #cooper x lucy #fanfic #lucy maclean #lucy x cooper #writing #writer #fallout tv #justified #horror au #slow burn #so much plot #murder mystery #thriller #ghoulcy atomic blast #coyote head

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anamseair · 5 months ago

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https://www.seair.co.in/blog/vegetables-export-from-india.aspx

India, the land of farmers, has a perfect climate for farming. India's agricultural sector is very vast, which makes India a prime producer and exporter of many agricultural products. One of the main agricultural products, vegetables, is rising as the green gold of India due to its high export value and economic support for the nation in many ways. This blog will teach about vegetable export data, Vegetables export from India, and more.

#vegetables export from india #vegetables export data #vegetables hs code #india vegetable export #vegetables exporters in india #vegetables importers #vegetable buyers #vegetable importing countries #top 10 vegetable exporting countries

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lemmonlimonn · 6 months ago

Text

i present to you... MY PIKMIN AU!!

"S.D spacial"

An interplanetary delivery company, known for its quality, success and speed, also for its great rivalry with "Hocotate Freight".

Within the company there are 4 essential positions so that performance and speed are efficient and accurate. Within these are: Green, Blue, Red and Orange. Each of these positions has an important meaning for the company. :

(I clarify that everything is written with a translator, if there is something written wrong I am sorry :[ )

"Sections"

Green

(Office Workers)

The green ones (office workers) are in charge of receiving calls from deliveries or loads that you want to transport. Depending on the type of material you want to transport, they will give you 3 options: Van, Truck or Spaceship. Therefore, it is important to specify when calling, how much your load is, and if you have your weight in Kg exactly, much better, the faster they will call you a transport suitable for your order.

Van: small or medium packages

Truck: Zinc sheets, earth, wooden boards, everything necessary for construction. Fruit or food shipments in large quantities. Also possible are 4,500KG is its minimum, and 11,800KG is its maximum.

Spaceship: Only small and medium-sized packages can be made: Boxes of fruits or vegetables, Boxes of screws or nails, Boxes of etc., etc., etc., you can carry everything as long as they are in boxes that can be transported by human force.

This section may work independently or on its own, but you still need to establish communication with the blue ones. green ones communicate new orders to you for confirmation and completion.

Blue

(Documentators)

This section is in charge of making the documents, noting the route, recipient, and taking the order information to the reds so that they take the loads to their proper transporters to start the delivery process.

Example:

Product: 3 bags of Giyano dog food

Buyer: Collin

Recipient: Erma Shepherd

Planet: Giya

Transport: Spaceship

Pilot: Darenwill, Orange #2

*Ticked*

This section works with the Orange section, since they must have a complete report at the end of the day of the package's journey, from Hocotate to the planet, or delivery location. And at the beginning with the Green section, to confirm where the package will be picked up for transportation.

Red

(Hard work)

The Reds (heavy load workers), this section is in charge of carrying the loads to the spaceship, truck or van, depending on what type of load it is, more personnel from the red section will be needed. This section works with oranges and blues.

Orange

(Pilot)

The Orange are in charge of piloting spaceship, driving trucks or vans. They work with the Blues and Reds, those are their priorities. Each of them must have a certificate and a driver's or pilot's license, otherwise they will not let you enter the Orange section.

If you want you can join! making your character like any of these 4 sections ^_^

#pikmin au #pikmin

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she-posts-nerdy-stuff · 1 year ago

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Today I had to do a lot of looking back through my worldbuilding master document, which is all of my answers to a brilliant online questionnaire that I will post the link to if anyone wants it. So now you get some of the best quotes I found that I wrote months and months ago and had completely forgotten about until going through this questionnaire:

“There are laws against that but they're easy to find loopholes in (sorta loosey goosey)”

“Does the culture value strength or compassion more highly? - excellent question, don’t know”

“Oh but not if you say you like fish, then it’ll get controversial super quickly, Etelljin people are WEIRD about fish”

“Picture a human English city, then replace the Chinese restaurants with Fae restaurants and then replace the Indian restaurants with Elven restaurants and then continue in that fashion with all the restaurants”

“What do people drink? - whatever they want? But you DO NOT want to make Etelljins drink from the water in their capital city, they’d riot. That’s where the fish live”

“Are some foods poisonous to certain people? - yeah, I’d say so”

“They probably have a magic version of Ikea somewhere (maybe the furniture builds itself to reduce stress and improve the mental health of the buyers)”

“Do people mostly eat meat, fish, or vegetables? - NO FISH”

“Do people make sacrifices to gods? - sacrifice isn’t a big thing because of the aforementioned fear of death that shaped their entire society, but […]”

“Imagine houses but magic-er”

“Are there professional guilds/institutes/etc? - If I may answer your question with a question, what the hell does that mean? Because I googled it and it did not help”

“What constitutes a social faux pas? - ok erm… saying you like to eat fish. That would be a big one. They have a real thing about fish”

(By the way, these are all from just a few questions and I do have plenty of real answers alongside them, but if y'all find this funny I have a lot more content to draw from to keep sharing them with you lol)

#writing fantasy #writing a book #national novel writing month #nanowrimo 2023 #nanowrimo #fantasy writer #writer problems #female writers #writers on tumblr #writeblr #writer #writers #writing #book #books #worldbuilding #fantasy world #ya fantasy #fantasy books

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wrencatte · 28 days ago

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this is a different bode ficlet from a...week ago? a weekish ago

The marketplace is crowded. It makes between his shoulder blades itch, but he just rolls them and ignores it.

Bode steps casually, but lightly, just a few meters between his target. They don’t know he’s there – his cloak is that good, and they’re that unaware. Typical. – as they shop sound. A bag of fruits and vegetables dangling from one hand, another bag hooked on the crook of that same arm, and their free hand lifting an expertly crafted class figurine to hold up to the light.

He stops at a vendor selling shawls, body angled to make it easy to watch his target. He’s not interested, of course, but he flashes a smile at the merchant anyway and lets her talk about patterns and stitches and colors, making the appropriate potential-buyer noises. My daughter likes green. Truth. Yeah, like frogs. She really loves ‘em. Lie. Kata likes the grass-green color that used to stain her knees. Back and forth. Truth. Lie. Truth. Lie. Lie. Lie.

Until his target moves on without buying any glass figurines. Bode grimaces, makes something up about having to talk to, to his wife, and steps away. Rubbing a hand over his face, he follows. Always follows. Tracking his target from one stall to another.

He could kill them now, if he wanted. No one would know it was him. Not with his skills.

The Jedi in front of him was young when the Purge happened, just out of their padawan-ship. More of a historian than a fighter, he knows they were never on the front lines. It would be nothing to kill them now.

But Bode refrains. He’s not sure why. It wouldn’t be the first Jedi he’s killed. Won’t be the last. Maybe it’s because it’s so public. There are so many people.

There's a solution to that.

As his target passes an alleyway, Bode reaches out unobtrusively. With his hands by his sides, he curls his fingers and flicks. His target trips. Stumbles. Staggers right into the alleyway. A stuttered confusion pockmarks the Force, their shields giving way to surprise.

Bode quickly follows, and is on his target before they right themselves back up. He catches wide eyes and a young face before the Force buffers against him, trying to shove him off. But Bode is stronger, physically and in the Force, and his knife is flipping in his hands before they register him as unmovable. Before they register that they survived this long, and that survival ends today with his knife in their throat, blood spilling over his hand.

Messy. He wrinkles his nose. Damn. Usually it's cleaner than this, he must be off his game. (He must be tired. Exhausted. Three years of this. When will it end? When will it finally be too much?)

(It's already too much. A shell of his former self. But even that might be too generous.)

Bode shifts through his target's pockets, scatters their purchases on the ground. Is shocked to find a metal hilt wrapped with blue leather in their bag. Carrying it around, so naive. The kyber inside sings softly, mournfully. Bode's hand curls around it without his say-so. He should just leave it here. He's not required to bring back proof, not anymore. But the idea of leaving this lightsaber here for anyone to find, well, maybe he's not so far gone to be okay with that idea. He slips their ‘saber into his own bag.

It looks like a mugging. Bode tugs off his gloves and shoves them deep inside his bag, rolls up his sleeves and cuffs them halfway up his forearm to hide the blood.

Once he's sure none is visible, he steps out into the light, leaving the cooling body of the Jedi behind.

His presence is so small and so unobtrusive he's not even noticed until a little girl bumps into him. She blurts out a quick apology then dashes off, shouting for her friends.

Bode watches her go with a sharp, longing pain puncturing through his chest, shredding his lungs and heart and leaving him feeling hollowed out.

He goes right instead of left, finds himself at the shawl vendor again. The merchant seems genuinely delighted at his return. She presents a shawl she had dug out of her packed crates. It's green. Frog green and stained grass green with gold coiled on the seams and a fringe of it along the edges.

Bode dazedly hands over the credits, plus some, and accepts the bundled package. He holds it instead of putting it in his bag.

He doesn’t want to get blood on it.

#my writing #bode akuna

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loosesodamarble · 4 months ago

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Welcome to the Black Bird Part 7: A Butchery by Richard

Summary: Introducing Jack as Richard, the esteemed head chef of the Black Bird cafe. Genre: general Word count: ~800 A/N: Jack's art was commissioned from @crazycookiemaniac

..........

Feathers. Hide. Bone. Cartilage. Guts. Blood. Flesh.

Working at a joint slaughterhouse and butcher shop business, he was tasked with processing meat from carcass to sellable product. He prided himself in taking apart eerie, lifeless corpses. In a way, his job was destruction with a purpose. And it brought a smile to his face.

It used to at least.

Jack’s boss took notice of the young man’s dulled vigor. He didn’t scold Jack or tell him to “just get over it.” But instead, he asked Jack to help make a delivery to one of their buyers.

That’s how Jack found himself at the Black Bird for the first time.

After moving everything from their truck to the cafe’s walk-in freezer, the cafe’s matron had Jack and the boss sit at the breakroom’s table. Then, a burly young man sauntered in with a plate of steak strips laid over a bed of minced vegetables and rice.

All it took was for Jack to take one bite.

In a word, it was delicious. A kick that hit the back of his throat. The hearty flavor of vegetables to ground his palette against the heat. The tender meat was juicy, savory, and faintly charred in flavor. And maybe it was Jack but he swore he tasted a bit of iron too.

And there was a high likelihood that the beef he was served was prepared by his own two hands. The flesh he tore into, the carcass he destroyed, didn’t end with being a cut of meat. It was still on its way to being a delicious creation.

Jack put down his fork, looked at his boss, and said “I’m putting in my two weeks now.”

…..

The sound of rapid chopping.

Steam rose from bubbling pots.

Oil sizzled ferociously.

Shouts of “order up” and “how many minutes” and “pick up for table—” during the lunch rush.

Heated and frantic, that’s what the atmosphere was. That’s how Jack liked it.

With one final strike from his knife, Jack finished mincing a carrot. The bits of orange were tossed in a bowl of other minced produce and stirred around. Then, Jack procured a fresh chicken breast from the fridge. He brought it to his work station and set it on the cutting board.

Jack’s knife gleamed as he raised it, as if it, too, were eager to get to cutting once more.

“Oi, Richard!” Jack turned to the voice and saw “Alexander” standing at the service area. As he picked up a table’s order, the burly man called, “A customer wants you to know that your cooking fucks!”

“Keh keh! Damn right it does!” Jack shouted back.

It was obvious to Jack that the customer likely only said “give my compliments to the chef” but Alexander tended to phrase things more entertainingly than other servers did.

With a cackle, Jack turned back to his work.

…..

Flowered Filet. A customer’s choice of meat filet cut to look like a blooming flower. Meant to highlight the chef’s cutting skills.

Every detail of the dish made sense for Jack. He’d handled meat for so long so of course his signature dish would involve protein. And since he wasn’t a professionally trained chef prior, he cut away any bells and whistles and focused on what he knew he could do: he could take a knife and cut, slice, and slash.

At first, he overlapped slices of meat to create an image. But he realized that the idea was more about plating than knifework. Then he tested ways of cutting a whole filet into a shape, like a wing or star. He eventually figured that he could cut numerous, tightly packed curves into a filet so that the meat could be pulled back and take on the shape of a flower in bloom.

When Secre saw an early version of the dish, she beamed at Jack and said, “Now that’s gorgeous. Who knew a butcher could be so artistic?”

Jack certainly hadn’t known.

Growing up, he had been entertained by destruction. Tearing pages out of his notebook and tossing the scraps to the wind. Picking at tree bark until his nail beds were stained brown and red. The dissection labs in middle school science class.

He became a butcher to continue destroying, in a new way. Until he got bored with that as well. And then he discovered cooking, where chopping and mashing and broiling didn’t destroy something but transformed it.

Destruction and creation.

Jack never thought he’d be capable of such a thing. Yet there he was.

The process of turning ingredients into a dish. Maybe it could’ve been called re-creation.

Jack certainly felt like that word suited his work. Like it suited him.

#black clover #black clover fanfic #jack the ripper #black clover au #butler cafe au #welcome to the black bird series

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ai-luni · 2 years ago

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HC/Drabble for domestic Hesh expecting/being a dad?

David "Hesh" Walker as a Father Headcanons

A/N: Eeeheh Dad!Hesh makes me so happy. I love writing this boy happy. Also bless Aukuro for finding this photo for me, I'm gonna mention it every chance I can get!

Word count: 1.8k

I think genuinely Hesh would be the cutest father. Before you his only focus was the war - he always knew he’d want to start a family - but it was when he met you when he actually thought it plausible.

He is an anxious Husband. He researches everything. You’re having a pain in your left foot? “Honey, the internet’s telling me to take you to the hospital now!”

He would ask his dad for help too and just overall confide in him about his worries. There were many evenings he and Elias lost track of time exchanging stories and wisdom. Hesh loved hearing about his mother so Elias would tell him all the differences between his and Logan’s birth, as well what little tips and tricks he had learnt by Logan to make his wife more comfortable.

Those tips and tricks Hesh 100% pulls out on you all the time. Like the nights you just can’t seem to get comfortable, he’ll shove a pillow under you and grin at the way you groan in relief. The first time he did that for you, it was 3 am and you were incredibly exhausted so instead of thanking him, you patted his head and said “good husband.” He’s aimed to please even more ever since.

Those chats with Elias were also really important for Hesh because he refrained from opening up to you. Especially about his worries for the baby and being a parent. He knows you’ve got so much more on your plate and thinks you deserve not to get caught up in his worries. He also fears you’ll think he’s having cold feet, which is the complete opposite of things!

So he turns to his dad instead and as much as he tries to old back, he just can’t. It all comes out in those sessions, even if it’s a random tuesday afternoon. Elias is very good at handling distressed people, so he holds his son and assures him that he’ll be a good father with a loving support team and wife around him.

“You’ve served your country for so long, my son. You’ve made me so proud. I hate to lose a good soldier but now it’s time for you to serve your family and make her proud.”

He’s definitely the kind of husband to make sure you don’t even move a muscle if you’ve had a bad morning. He’ll rub your feet, rub your back, he'll cook for you, he’ll make you coffee or tea and just be really annoying asking if you need anything over and over again.

If you drink, he’ll give it up with you. If you have to eat an excessive amount of some vitamin, he’ll learn new recipes. Sometimes he’ll even watch you sit at the table until you’ve finished all your vegetables like a child.

He’s also so in love with the baby bump. He’s started sleeping with his arms around your waist, pulling you as close as possible to him. If not, he'll keep his hand on your stomach.

You’ve had to wake him up a couple times when it gets too hot. Especially in summer and especially when you are closer to expecting and Riley’s becoming just as clingy as he is.

Hesh isn’t much of a leisure shopper, but he is a panic buyer. “Babe, I got you more of these just in case!” “A lady at the store said these were good, I got one incase you wanted to try it.” But he is also a massive sucker for baby clothes, so expect that bag to be topped off with a little onesie or two. He especially loves baby sneakers.

Now enough about Hesh because Riley would also KNOW. Riley knew before both of you. It was maybe about a week since you’ve been home with Hesh that Riley started trailing behind you more often, sniffing your belly and crotch. Hesh thought it was hilarious and would jokingly scold his dog, “Hey! She is mine alright.”

You however were starting to feel a bit off and Riley’s behaviour was only confirming your intuition. It was about two weeks being home on a Thursday night, Riley sat between your feet the entirety of dinner that you knew for certain. The next morning you told Hesh you were going to go for a run and brought a couple pregnancy tests. All of your suspicions were correct.

Riley started sleeping with the two of you in your final trimester, when he would physically refuse to leave the room no matter what. You would be crawled up in Hesh’s arms and Riley in yours.

He’d also gotten so much more openly aggressive on walks. He’s trained and very well mannered but now if someone walked too close or tried to talk to you, he’d start growling.

Telling Hesh will always be one of the greatest memories you have. The pregnancy wasn’t planned but you both had talked about the possibility of children in the future. It was important for the two of you to make sure you were both on the same page before anything got serious.

Luckily the afternoon you found out, you had a dinner planned with his family.

You were helping Elias bring casserole dishes to the dinning table as Logan entered with Hesh holding four drinks. He places your drink down with a “Your favourite, doll.”

“Thanks” You give him a peck, “but not tonight I think.”

He pauses, thoroughly confused, “It is your favourite right?”

“Yea... But it’s not his.” With that you put your palm to your stomach, feeling so cliche.

It took him a moment but he eventually got there, and when he did arrive there, he couldn’t have been more overjoyed. He reacted even more excited than even he was expecting, picking you up and spinning you around. Your feet dangled off the floor as he held your face close to kiss you.

“Hey, save it for after dinner. I’d like to keep my appetite.” Logan said entering the room again with his father. You hadn’t even noticed them leave.

Hesh didn’t pay a single piece of attention to the comment, just turning to his family with the widest grin announcing “I’m gonna be a dad!”

The lot of you celebrated together and ate well. Elias giving you a long, warm hug nearing the end of the night, telling you how proud he is of you and that Hesh could start a family with someone like you.

On the delivery day, Hesh was very attentive. You made it to the ER, the nurses got you set up in a room and his hand never left yours for a moment. Anytime a nurse entered the room, he’d ask if there was any job he could do to help. All the nurses loved him, they all thought he was cute. They would send you winks when he asked to help or say the sweetest thing to you and in any other circumstance, you would feel lucky but today he was the monster who caused you all this pain.

When it came to the labour itself, he tried to talk you through all of it.

“You’re so strong y/n, you can do this. You’ve been through so much worse! Remember when you got shot multiple times, a baby is nothing! Remember when we fell three stories off that building in Caracas and still ran miles for evac.”

All of the nurses in the room were giving major side eye as the scenarios coming out of Hesh’s mouth were getting worse and worse.

All of his worries from before the birth would be completely lost as a father. Of course he’ll still stay up to 3 in the morning reading about every possibility your baby might be coughing but otherwise, he was the happiest man alive.

He would spoil them and want to give them everything his own dad gave to him. He’d sit with them on the rug and play with sensory toys because he read it was a good way to let them adapt to the world. He’d get too excited to wrap them up on his chest and sway them around.

He is 100% a baby thrower. Much to your dismay, he will toss that baby up in the air so long as they still laugh at it.

He also sleeps with the baby a lot. Midday naps are his favourite times! Especially when Riley joins them. It gave you some alone time too which you greatly appreciated but rest assured the photo of all three of them asleep in each other's arms would stay as your phone’s wallpaper for a very long time.

There's no argument about it, the baby will be a fan of whatever sports team Hesh supports. Even if you go for a rival team, it will always be wearing Hesh’s team’s jersey over yours.

He’s read a lot about Postpartum depression as well and tries to give you everything you need. Especially in the first few months of bringing the baby home. He’ll look after the baby if you need time alone, he’ll cook dinner and bathe you and just constantly remind you that you are loved and have brought the most beautiful thing ever onto the earth. He would constantly tell you what a wonderful job you’ve done and that he’s so proud of you that it becomes such a habit.

Fast forward to when the baby’s 7 and going to school, all three of you continue to say how proud you are of each other almost daily because it’s just become what you do.

Over time he does get less and less reluctant to attend to the baby in the wee hours of the morning but he’ll always do it if you ask him to. Sometimes you'll even hear him sing to it in the next room which always makes your heart swell.

The baby also gets its fair share of the ghosts too. Merrick has one too many photos pretending to make the baby drink from his beer bottle. Logan will hold them whatever chance he gets and Elias is the super nanny of the bunch, jumping into action if they ever throw up or make a mess.

But Keegan will always be the baby’s favourite. They alway grab his hand and try to lead him away, or they do their grabby hands in Keegans direction to climb onto his lap. He secretly loves it.

Your baby’s very vocal so sometimes when the lot of you are sitting, sharing a drink at night, you’ll sit the baby down in their own chair and ask it questions. Everyone laughs when they give a “eeugh!” or clap their hands in response to something said.

Overall, Hesh is a very loving father.

#cod #call of duty #call of duty ghosts #hesh walker #hesh walker x you #hesh walker x reader #david hesh walker

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