#where is the Moroccan piece. where is it.

[summer-fire]

I just realized some bs at work and i am. Mad.

[notrebdomine]

Dylan’s last Christmas in 1998

❝Christmas was low-key and comfortable. As usual, Dylan led the way in finding and decorating our tree; he always wanted the biggest one we could fit on top of our car. It was an annual tradition for me to drag Tom and the boys to some festive event— a madrigal choir session, or a holiday event at the zoo. That last Christmas, it was dinner at a Moroccan restaurant, where we sat on cushions on the floor and ate without silverware, scooping the spiced dishes into our mouths with pieces of bread.

Dylan had asked Tom if he could borrow some money to buy Christmas gifts, and I was touched to find a hardbound writing journal from him under the tree Christmas morning. It was perfect-thoughtful without being extravagant. I had no idea I'd be pouring my sorrow onto its pages four months later. Tom and I bought Dylan the long black leather coat he'd asked for. Tom thought it would look ridiculous on Dylan's lanky frame, and privately I agreed. … Regardless of how we thought the coat would look, it seemed harmless enough, and Dylan was thrilled when he unwrapped it on Christmas morning❞

𓈒⠀𓂃⠀⠀˖⠀𓇬⠀˖⠀⠀𓂃⠀𓈒𓈒⠀𓂃⠀⠀˖⠀𓇬⠀˖⠀⠀𓂃⠀𓈒

— A Mother's Reckoning: Living in the Aftermath of Tragedy By Sue Klebold

[stardust-swan]

Secrets to the Arabian Princess Scent 💐🧴🪷

So with Arab perfumes becoming popular in the West due to their strong projection and beautiful smell, and the Arab world becoming known for our knowledge on how to smell good af, I (a half Moroccan) am going to reveal some other ways we ensure we smell amazing to the girlies on Tumblr who are interested in Arab perfumes or just in generally smelling amazing 😍 Most tips are Moroccan but many apply to the Arab world in general (under the cut because this turned into a long post) ✨💞💐

1) Good Eating Habits: When my mother moved here to Europe, she was immediately struck by how the people seemed to smell like "pig." And that's no coincidence. You are what you eat, so coming from a country where nobody eats pig to one where everyone eats it, of course you're going to be struck by people smelling like it from the inside out. Not just that, but in the Arab world, it's also way less common for people to eat takeout and drink alcohol, whereas in many parts of the West, these things are a normal part of many people's diets and affects their natural scent. A lot of Arabs have also talked about how Westerners smell like "milk," and this is because Westerners tend to consume more dairy products than people in the East do. It's also common for Arabs to eat fruit as dessert instead of having cakes or cookies all the time (although speaking of cookies and cakes, the scents of rosewater, orange blossom water, almonds, honey, vanilla, oranges and lemons commonly used in Arab baking fill up the house with a wonderful smell while they're baking). Teas made from various herbal infusions are popular throughout the Arab world. Spearmint, peppermint, sage, cardamom, cinnamon, hibiscus, chamomile, anise, and thyme are commonly used to flavor tea in MENA. Dried lime tea is drunk in the Arabian Peninsula. Coffee flavoured with cardamom is also common. I especially like Turkish coffee. Spices like cinnamon, cardamom, and cloves are commonly used in cooking, and the scent of them can cling to your clothes and hair. Herbs like mint and parsley, which have natural deodorising properties, are often used in meals.

I'm not saying that you need to cut any foods out in order to smell good, but you should consider reducing the amounts of unhealthy foods and red meats you eat, and make sure to drink plenty of water and eat veggies and fruit daily.

2) Keeping a Clean House: Here in Ireland, a lot of people don't clean their houses every day. I know multiple people that only clean their floor once a week, and have a couple of neighbours who don't do much cleaning themselves and just have a housekeeper visit to clean once a week. But in Morocco, people clean daily. The home is also deep cleaned once a week, we even wash the walls. We don't wear shoes inside, and not just that, but we also have different slippers specifically for wearing inside the bathroom. Living in a clean space is important for smelling good, because no matter what you do, you'll always end up smelling like wherever you live due to spending so much time there. The scent will cling to your clothes and hair. Which means if your house smells dirty, you will also smell dirty.

As well as making sure the house is clean, Arabs also make it smell pretty with extras. For example, in Morocco it's common to burn incense or bakhour (perfumed wood chips), and the scent permeates your clothes. People also keep pieces of musk in their wardrobes (wrapped in a handkerchief). It come in scents like orange blossom, jasmine, amber, sandalwood, chamomile and lavender. An unused bar of soap or a sachet of potpourri in your wardrobe will do the same job though if you can't or don't want to buy musk. The musk can also be used as a scented wax melt, a home scent (you just leave it in a bowl), a body perfume (rub it on your skin), a hair perfume (rub on your palms and run through the hair), or to scent bathwater. Solid perfume made from natural ingredients has the same effect. I like Lush Rose Jam solid perfume, as it smells like sweet roses and Turkish delight, and a little goes a long way.

Specific to Marrakech, you can buy jasmine balls which you just leave around the house (if you're not in Marrakech, you can just leave potpourri or dried flowers and herbs in sachets on your desk, bedside table, etc). The Marrakech herbal shops also sell sandalwood bark which you burn. Oud and amber are also burned. Herbs like lavender are sprinkled under carpets and rugs so the scent rises as they're stepped on. Room sprays from brands like Nabeel are used, which come in a range of lovely scents (like the warm vanilla and oud Kanz or the rich floral Raunaq).

3) Personal Hygiene: In the Arab world, people shower daily. In Morocco, we also go to the hammam (public bath) once a week, and we sit in the sauna room, and then rub our bodies with sabon beldi (black soap), a natural soap made from olive oil and black olives, leaving it on for a few minutes before rinsing it off. Then we scrub our skin with a kessa glove after it's marinated. Exfoliating dead skin regularly makes perfume cling to you better (if you order Korean bath towels from Amazon, they're very similar to Moroccan kessa gloves and you use them in a similar way). Then after washing our hair, we use a ghassoul clay mask (some people also rub henna into their skin). After washing the clay off, many people rub rosewater or argan oil into their skin before heading to the relaxation area to enjoy refreshments. As well as helping us smell good, it also makes our skin incomparably soft. When my parents were newlyweds, my father remarked on how he'd never felt a woman with such soft skin in his life before. My mother attributes it to regularly using the hammams before moving here.

Obviously not everyone has access to a hammam, but you can create a similar experience at home. Just sit in a steamy hot shower for 10-15 minutes, wash your skin with a natural soap and leave it on for a few minutes before rinsing off and exfoliating with a glove. Then tone with rosewater and apply oil to your body.

Dukhan treatments (smoke baths) are practiced in Sudan. Married women and brides anoint themselves with oil, before sitting over a chair with a hole in the centre. Under the seat, there is a pit, in which acacia wood, frankincense, or other aromatic woods and resins are burned in a clay vessel.

As well as showering daily (and using the hammam regularly if you're Maghrebi), many people in the Arab world also perform wudu (ritual cleansing) five times a day before praying.

Women commonly apply Musk Al Tahara (white musk), an attar that smells like vanilla, flowers and soft musk on the external parts of their vulva after periods.

Alum was commonly used as a natural deodorant in the Arab world in the past, and some still use it today.

Bidets are also common in the Arab world. In the Anglosphere they're uncommon, but it's easy to get a portable bidet (a small squeezable bottle with a nozzle) online.

We also wash our hands before meals, with a pitcher of water which is passed around the room. In Turkey, they use kolonya, made from fig blossoms, jasmine, rose, or citrus to disinfect their hands. In Morocco, it's common for women to scent their hands with rosewater or orange blossom water after meals.

4) Fragrances, Lotions and Potions: In the Arab world, perfumes are incredible. They're oil-based, so they have excellent projection and longevity. The olfactory notes commonly used in them are beautiful too: delicate rosewater and orange blossom water, exotic oud, sweet amber, vibrant roses and jasmine. In Morocco, gardenia scents are popular, even among men.

Emirati perfumes are the most well known in the West and are super good. Some personal favourites of mine include Oud Mood by Lattafa (Caramel, rose, saffron, and oud), Fatima Pink by Zimaya (Sweet rose that smells like a bit like Turkish delight. it's a dupe of the French Parfums De Marly Delina, however, the actual Delina smells very similar to generic rose oil perfumes you can get in the Arab world to begin with so Zimaya was basically able to dupe it to a T. Their version lasts really long too), Ameerat Al Arab by Lattafa (jasmine, a hint of oud, slightly citrusy. Also the name means "Arabian Princess" in English), Fakhar Rose by Lattafa (sweet, fruity, and very floral) and Yara by Lattafa (floral, amber, vanilla and strawberry). I buy my perfumes from Dubai Perfume Shop in Dublin, but they can be easily found online. Some well-known Arab perfume houses include Lattafa, Al Rehab, Zimaya, Al Qurashi, Amouage, Afnan, Ajmal, Asdaaf, Al Haramain, Armaf, Kayali, Maison Alhambra, and Swiss Arabian, but there are hundreds more.

As well as sprayable perfume, perfume oil is also used. It usually comes in rollerballs or small containers, is inexpensive, and lasts for ages. Like spray perfume, it comes in a huge variety of scents. You can also put it in diffusers or add some to cotton balls and leave in your wardrobe to scent clothes and linens.

Arabs know when to wear perfumes. For example, a rich, sweet, strong oud and vanilla scent will be beautiful in colder weather. But in warm weather, it will become cloying and sickly. Musk, amber and saffron are popular in winter, while rose, orange blossom and jasmine are popular in summer.

In the Arab world, many stalls in the Medina sell gorgeous oils, fragrances and soaps that are inexpensive. For example, the musk I mentioned above. As well as making your home smell incredible, you can also rub it on your body and you'll smell good for days.

Rosewater is commonly used as a toner and to remove makeup. In the town of Skoura, where my great grandparents were from, men even use it to shave with! Orange blossom water is also used in Arab beauty routines in a similar way to rosewater. You can apply either to a bath for extra luxury.

Argan oil is commonly used in Morocco on both skin and hair, as well as the less well-known but just as good prickly pear oil (which is very high in vitamin E). Pure argan oil actually smells mild and not fragrant (similar to olive oil), but for beauty, things like rose oil and menthol are commonly added, so it smells pretty good. Throughout the Middle East and North Africa, jasmine hair oil, castor oil and sweet almond oil (I like putting it in my baths and on my body) are easy to find. Usually Middle Eastern and South Asian shops in the West sell them too.

Honey and almond masks have been used since ancient times, and to this day are still popular. You can buy them basically anywhere. Homemade face masks made from honey and yoghurt or crushed figs and yoghurt are also used.

Aloe Vera is used to treat dry skin, acne, and sunburns. It has a cool and refreshing scent, perfect for the hot climate in many parts of the Arabian world. I like applying it after shaving as it's soothing, natural, and absorbs easily.

Frankincense, a resin used in the Middle East and North Africa for thousands of years, was traditionally used as a natural perfume. It's commonly used in incense. Frankincense oil is also good for the skin.

Bakhour and incense, as well as being used to scent the home, can also be used to scent the hair and clothes. Hold your clothes or hair over a brazier with incense burning inside, and the perfumed smoke will cling on to them.

There are many beautiful scented soaps available in the Arab world. If you go to Turkish or Arab supermarkets, a lot of them will have a section where they sell hygiene products, including soaps with ingredients like argan, rose and oud, and olive oil. I've even found Syrian Aleppo soap before. You can just buy soaps from regular stores in scents like rose, jasmine, honey and almond, orange blossom and sandalwood for achieving that exotic scent though.

As well as using various oils, perfumes, and fragrant beauty treatments, Arab women also know how to layer these different scents to add dimension to them and avoid clashing. For example, a rose perfume over a vanilla lotion will always smell good. Other combinations that are good include almond and vanilla, rose and oud, rose and jasmine, lavender and lemon, rose and orange blossom, and orange blossom and vanilla. But there are many different combinations you can use to achieve a delicious scent that's unique to you.

I hope this was helpful, stay pretty ✨

[thisismeracing]

After the afterparty | LH44

― Pairing: Lewis Hamilton x F!Moroccan!reader ― Warnings: mentions of food; typos. ― Summary: Fans have been watching Yn and Lewis interact since she first started attending races. Nothing seemed enough for them to pinpoint what was going on between the two until the Las Vegas Gran Prix happened, and contrary to the belief, what happens in Vegas doesn't always stay in Vegas. Yn and Lewis are about to find out. (Based on this request) ― A/n: None of the pictures used are mine, they are all from Pinterest and other apps, but the work is, and I do not allow it to be published on a different platform. I would appreciate it if those things could be taken into consideration 💛

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May, 2023

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lewishamilton

liked by yninstagram, georgerussell63, and others

lewishamilton the grind doesn't stop. Lets go

view all comments

ferrarifriends who finna be fired now? 🤣

landorizz who is he trying to get with these pics?

⤷ purplemerc I don't know, but he got to me, I am ready with open legs

⤷ purplemerc damn I meant open ARMS*, pardon my silly little keyboard hihi 😅😇

⤷ schumickey LMAO

motoswift I see Yn liked eh

sainzpodium someone said on twitter that they were seen talking at the afterparty... just saying 👁️👄👁️

June, 2023

📸 instagram

yninstagram

liked by carlossainz55, lewishamilton, and others

yninstagram I have always been sport’s girlie, but with soccer its a whole new level ❤️ happy to see my home team play! Can’t wait for the world cup!!! 🇲🇦🇲🇦

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f1eillish she's so pretty!!

vamosvettel 🇲🇦🇲🇦

franciscac.gomes we have to go to a match together!!! 💞

formulamerc I have to get a shirt like the one she's wearing, looks good

martelodohamilton I see sir Lewis liked huh...............

lewishamilton

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lewishamilton weekend off 🌊☀️❤️💚

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jasmine21 would y’all call me crazy if I say this is in Morocco? 👀

sirenzsainz Lewis has such an aura around him, he's so aesthetic, like...it's so good to see him

mercfan where are you, Lew?

⤷ sennanschumi no because he's totally gonna answer you, bestie, just you wait

ferrarifiasco a week without f1 is harder than a week without my gf

⤷ nandosmile my friend, respectfully, I hope she breaks up w you 😭🗣️

yninstagram

liked by danielricciardo, lewishamilton, and others

yninstagram enjoying the weekend with my friends 💚

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smoothoperation friends to lovers has always been my favorite trope 🤭😇

hammert1m3 LEWIS ON THE THIRD SLIDE????

ynfan I so wanted to be friends with her

charles_leclerc bring me some souvernir!

⤷ carlossainz55 He means local food, but he's afraid the admin is going to see and tell the team's nutritionist

⤷ yninstagram it's fine, Charls, I'm bringing one big SHIRT for you and Carlos. It's a very popular SHIRT here in Morocco.

⤷ scuderiaferrari 👁️👁️

estebanbestie this comment section is very entertaining

ynfriend 🤍🤍🤍

July, 2023

🎥 youtube

August, 2023

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September, 2023

yninstagram

liked by lilymhe, mickschumacher, lewishamilton, and others

yninstagram monza ❤️🇮🇹🎂

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charles_leclerc you told me you weren't posting it!!!

⤷ yninstagram did I? I don't recall this 🤔

⤷ carlossainz55 she didn't say a thing, cabron...

⤷ charles_leclerc just because you look good, shut up

⤷ carlossainz55 I always look good

⤷ yninstagram some may disagree with this...

⤷ carlossainz55 traitor! ��

scuderiastroll lol I love their friendship

scuderiaferrari ❤️🥰

alonsostroll funny how Lewis has been liking every single post of hers huh

sainzsecret she looks so good!! if I had half of her beauty I wouldn't complain about a thing!

⤷ yninstagram believe me, bestie, you would

⤷ f1direction LMAO I love you, yn!!!

lewishamilton

liked by charles_leclerc, yninstagram, and others

lewishamilton Every weekend we fight together as a team, and it’s always a tough battle. First, huge props to George. He had an amazing drive all weekend and deserved to be on the podium. Unfortunate for him not to finish, but he will bounce back. I’m so proud of all the work the team did this weekend. Thank you all for the unbelievable support, I see you🙏🏾

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georgerussell63 let's go, mate

girlbossgasly I love you, lew!!!

yninstagram It was brilliant to watch you race 💙 keep up the good work!

hamiltonalways Yn supporting her man :D

raintyres I'm happy I stayed awake for this race. Singapore is always a show

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October, 2023

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yninstagram

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yninstagram Mexico!! 💚❤️🤍🇲🇽

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rbrpodium she posted mick and george, and lew 🤍

⤷ cyruscars casually posting everyone in a work environment except Lewis, I wonder what it means.........

mercmick THANK YOU FOR FEEDING US SCHUMI CONTENT, QUEEN!!!

ynfan as usual, the prettiest woman in the world

georgerussell63 💙

charles_leclerc it's horrible to share you. Please, get back to our garage

⤷ mickschumacher 😂😂

November, 2023

📸 instagram

yninstagram

liked by carmenmmundt, landonorris, and others

yninstagram what happens in Vegas doesn't always stays in Vegas 🤭👄

comments on this post have been limited

lewishamilton my forever favorite afterparty company 💗😘

⤷ yninstagram I love you, handsome! ❤️

charles_leclerc ❤️❤️

mercedesamgf1 Welcome to the right garage, Yn!

⤷ scuderiaferrari 🙄🙄🙄

alex_albon the way george is included on this dump make it seem like he's the kid 😂😂😂

⤷ georgerussell63 what if I am?

⤷ yninstagram yeah what if we adopted him? 🤨

⤷ georgerussell63 did you?? 🥹

⤷ yninstagram not sure. I'll ask Roscoe if he would like a sassy new brother 🏃🏾‍♀️

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[najia-cooks]

[ID: A plate of light brown bumpy flatbread with blackened spots, surrounded by za'tar and green olives. End ID]

خبز طابون / Khobz taboon (Palestinian flatbread)

Khobz taboon ("taboon bread") is a soft, chewy Palestinian flatbread. It may be eaten with olive oil and za'tar, but it is best known as the base of مسخن (musakhkhan), where it is topped with spiced aromatics and perhaps chicken.

Khobz taboon gets its name from the vessel it is traditionally cooked in—an outdoor, shallow conical oven with an opening at the top and a clay or metal cover to trap heat. Taboons may also have an opening at the side through which the fire can be stoked, especially in the east of Palestine. These ovens were historically made from a mixture of local clay and hay, but have more recently also been constructed from clay treated to be sturdier, or from metal.

A taboon is used by packing flammable material, such as hay, fabric, animal dung, wood, and charcoal, around the outside of the oven and letting it burn overnight; the fire transfers thermal energy to the clay, and to the river stones, sand, glass, or flint stones (صوان, "ṣawwān") that form the base of the oven. The ash is then brushed away, and the flattened dough is placed on the stones or stuck to the walls of the oven to cook. The clay and stones will continue to release thermal energy and cook things throughout the day. The clay and ash give a distinctive flavor to anything cooked inside the taboon, making this method a source of nostalgia for many people who have transitioned to cooking in indoor ovens.

Khobz taboon was traditionally made with whole wheat flour. Most people today use a blend of around two parts white flour to one part whole wheat, or else all white flour; they may even add milk or milk powder to ensure a very soft dough. This recipe uses a blend of flours to combine the nutty flavor of whole wheat dough with the pliancy of white dough. It also begins with an optional pre-ferment to mimic the traditional Palestinian method of including a piece of dough from the previous day's bread into each new batch (like a pâte fermentée) giving a rich and slightly sour flavor to the final bread. It calls for the use of rocks to imitate the bottom of a taboon; the rocks give the khobz its distinctive dimpled texture, and ensure that no interior pocket forms in the bread.

In the years following 2007, the siege Israel had imposed on Gaza caused a shortage of cooking gas that led to a resurgence in the use of taboons. The ovens were used to bake bread and to grill sweet potatoes during the time of their winter harvest. Meanwhile, in the West Bank, Israeli military forces repeatedly destroyed taboon ovens and assaulted villagers who tried to defend them, as Israeli settlers from nearby villages complained about the smoke that the ovens produced. Some of these ovens had been used to bake bread for entire families of 40 or more people. Palestinians continue to build, use, and defend these ovens, despite the fact that Israeli law de facto forbids Palestinians in the West Bank to build anything.

Today, Israel is deliberately targeting and destroying bakeries in refugee camps that had been supplying bread to tens of thousands of people in Gaza, continuing a long campaign of starvation of the Palestinian people.

Support Palestinian resistance by calling Elbit System's (Israel's primary weapons manufacturer) landlord; and donating to Palestine Action's bail fund.

Equipment:

A large, shallow mixing bowl, like a Moroccan qus'a

A large (12"), shallow clay cooking vessel, such as the bottom of a Moroccan tajine (one that is rated for very high temperatures), or a large baking tray

Assorted smooth river rocks of varying sizes, from 1 to 3" in diameter.

Make sure that your rocks have been thoroughly cleaned, and that they do not contain any fissures, cracks, or veins that could contain water (this water, once heated in the oven, could cause the rocks to crack open). Instead of river rocks, I used lava rocks designed for use in a clay tanoor. You just need something to provide thermal mass and give a bumpy texture.

Ingredients:

Makes 3 large breads.

For the pre-ferment:

140g whole wheat flour

1/2 tsp active dry yeast

140g water

You may also use a pâte fermentée that you already have (just adjust the ratio of white to whole wheat flour added later accordingly), or a sourdough starter. The hydration of the starter doesn't matter, since you will be adding water by eye later.

For the bread:

330g bread flour or all-purpose flour

30g whole wheat flour

5g salt

Water

If you skipped the pâte fermentée step, add 170g (rather than 30g) of wheat flour at this stage, as well as 1/2 Tbsp of active dry yeast. I have not tested the recipe this way.

Instructions:

For the pâte fermentée:

1. Mix flour and yeast in a small mixing bowl. Add water and stir to combine. Cover and leave out at room temperature for a day, or in the refrigerator for up to three days. At the end of the rising time, it should be about one and a half times its original size.

For the bread:

This recipe makes a high hydration dough that will need techniques such as slapping and folding to knead effectively.

1. Mix flours and salt in a very large, shallow mixing bowl. Add your pâte fermentée and mix to combine.

2. Add water until the flour comes together into a soft, sticky dough and continue keading. Have a bowl of water on your workstation. Every time the dough starts to stick to your hands or the sides of the bowl, wet your hands and rinse down the side of the bowl with some water. This will gradually add water to the dough.

3. You will notice the dough growing smoother and laxer. At this point, start kneading by repeatedly folding the edges of the dough in towards the center. Do this by occasionally wetting your hands, then running a hand along the side of the bowl and under the edge of the dough to unstick it from the bowl; then fold. You will get stuck less often if you try to touch the dough as lightly and briefly as possible. Every few folds, dimple the surface of the dough all over with your fingertips. You will have been kneading for about 10 minutes at this point.

The dough should become more smooth and less bumpy—you will notice it holding its shape and becoming more stretchy as gluten forms. It should form into a ball when you fold the corners in and hold its shape for a minute, but then gradually expand to take the shape of the bowl. I added about 2 1/2 cups of water total (in dry conditions) during steps 2 and 3.

4. At this point, the dough is wet enough that the slap and fold method is the best way to knead. Wet your hands and again unstick the dough from the sides of the bowl. Hook your hands under the dough and quickly pull it all up into the air; fold the hanging bottom part of the dough under, and plop the dough back down, folding it on top of the part you plopped down earlier. Give the bowl a quarter turn and repeat. Do this continually for another few minutes.

5. When the dough is very smooth and lax, smear some olive oil on the sides of the bowl and under the dough, and pat some oil on top.

6. Cover the bowl and bulk ferment the dough at room temperature for 8 hours, or for 16-24 hours in the fridge. At the end of the rising time, you should see bubbles beginning to form on the surface of the dough.

To shape and bake:

1. Place a layer of rocks at the bottom of a clay cooking vessel or baking sheet. Put the sheet in the top third of the oven and preheat your oven to 550 °F (290 °C), or as hot as it will go.

2. Meanwhile, fold the edges of the risen dough over into the middle a few more times with damp hands. Pinch off a large piece of dough (about the size of two fists), and fold the sides over into the middle to make a neat packet.

3. Drop the packet of dough onto a heavily floured surface, and flip to flour both sides. Pat the dough flat, then throw it back and forth between your hands, catching the edge each time as you spin it through the air, like a pizza crust, to stretch it into a circle about 1/4" (1/2cm) thick with a diameter of about 10" (25cm).

You may also stretch and pat the dough out on a flat surface.

4. Remove the tray from the oven. Flip the dough circle over the back of your hand to transfer it and lay it down over the hot rocks. Re-stretch it into a circle, if necessary.

5. Place the tray back in the oven and cook for 5-7 minutes, until the top of the bread has golden brown spots. Repeat with each piece of dough, leaving the rocks in the oven for a few minutes between each one to allow them to come back up to temperature.

6. (Optional): Hold each flatbread directly over a gas flame for a minute or two to blacken a few spots and mimic the flavor that a wood-fired oven would give to your khobz.

You may also use a method similar to the dhungar technique to smoke your bread. Place each piece of bread one at a time into a large vessel with a closely fitting lid, alongside a small bowl. Light a piece of wood on fire and drop it into the bowl; then cover the vessel with the lid as you allow the wood to smoke for a minute or two.

[useless-catalanfacts]

La Pedrera. Photos from Ajuntament de Barcelona and La Pedrera.

Nowadays, la Pedrera is one of the most famous building in Barcelona, Catalonia. It's one of the most emblematic buildings in the Catalan Modernism style, and has been declared part of the UNESCO World Heritage Site "Works of Antoni Gaudí".

But it hasn't always been recognised as good architecture, all the opposite! In fact, take a look at its name: it's technically called Casa Milà (house of the Milà family), but locals always call it "la Pedrera", which means "the quarry" in the Catalan language. When it was built, in 1910, Barcelonians thought it looked like an ugly piece of stone-y quarry mountain in the middle of the city.

But that's not the only thing that they thought it looked like. Let's see some parodies that were published at the time:

In 1909, the popular magazine Cu-Cut! published this vignette of a mother and a son walking in front of the house, when the child asks his mom "was there also an earthquake here?". This is a reference to an earthquake that happened in Sicily the previous month, and to the house's bendy shapes that look like it was shaken.

In 1925, the children's magazine En Patufet also joined in, with a vignette where the owner realises he can't hang up curtains* on this windows.

*Note: I'm using the translation "curtains" as a simplification so that English speakers without a detailed knowledge of Catalan culture can understand the joke. The vignette actually uses the word "domàs", meaning a decorative textile that is hanged from balconies during holidays.

In 1910, Cu-cut! compared it to a mona, the cake that Catalans eat on Easter Monday, by drawing a vignette where a child says "Daddy, daddy, I want a mona as big as this one!".

Three times did the magazine El Diluvio mock this building.

First, in 1910, they called it a "Medieval architecture model, between burrow and burial, that I don't quite dislike". It described its future in the following way: "the round gaps in the façade have become dark holes where all kinds of vermin come in and out: crocodiles and rats, but also snakes, hedgehogs, owls, sea monsters... Two undulating lines wrap up the building, which stands in front of an absolutely black sky. Above it, in the rooftop, the chimneys, the air vents and the stairs' endings have stopped being whipped cream mountains to become sinister piles of skulls."

In 1911, El Diluvio striked again, comparing the building's cast iron handrails to a fish stand. Their illustration had Casa Milà with a sign saying "cod entrails sold here!".

And lastly, it made fun of the controversial statue of Our Lady of the Rosary that was supposed to go on top. The Milà family in the end decided not to place the statue (some say because they didn't like how the sculptor made it, some say it's because they were scared of having a religious symbol after the 1909 anti-clerical riots) but the architect Gaudí, who was a very religious man, insisted on having it. This caused the Milàs and Gaudí to argue, which the magazine represents with a caricature of Mr. Milà wearing a Tarzan-like loincloth and branding a whip fighting against Gaudí wearing a pith helmet, grabbing him by the hair and hitting him with a hammer. The text under the image translates to "Will the Virgin Mary stand on top of the peculiar monument? Who will win, Gaudí or Milà?".

In 1912, the popular magazine L'Esquella de la Torratxa imagined that this extravagant futuristic building could only be a garage for parking airship and air-planes. This satirical drawing is titled "Future Barcelona. The true destiny of the Milà and Pi house". (Milà and Pi were the owners of this building).

The text that accompanied this illustration wondered if this building is the Wagnerian Valhalla, an anti-aircraft defense for the Moroccan War, or a hangar for zeppelins.

What do you think? Was the banter justified?

[evan-collins90]

The first Torrid store - Brea Mall - Brea, CA (Opened April 18, 2001)

Designed by JGA, Inc. 

From the book: “The retailer, Hot Topic, based in City of Industry, CA, started a short 12 years ago with a concept and a target market; cutting edge apparel, accessories and novelty items--all inspired by alternative music, oriented towards a hip and trendy, teenage market. Hot Topic changed the look of their retail settings, which are usually located in mainstream malls, and the company has recently taken aim at another special market. The new focus is on plus-size teens; an area that the fashion market seems to have neglected. 

Up until this time the 15-30 year old hip and trendy young women who wear sizes 14-26 had no other choice but to shop in the larger size women's shops where the fashions were tailored to the more matronly and conservative tastes. That is how Torrid was born! 

Torrid was introduced in a new, hot and fun retail setting designed by JGA, Inc. of Southfield, MI which has designed the various prototypes for the Hot Topic stores as well. To be sure of the need for such a niche to be filled, the company opened five Torrid shops almost simultaneously; the first in Brea, CA, followed by stores in malls in Mission Viejo, CA, Annapolis, MD, Omaha, NE, N. Attleboro, MA, and Littleton, CO. The merchandise offerings are clustered as "Streetwear," "Clubwear," Rockabilly Wear," and Renaissance Wear" and the stores average about 2,750 SF. Besides the "everyday" slacks and novelty T-shirts, these larger size young women can find black vinyl pants and mini-skirts, black corsets, dog-collar chokers and platform shoes as well as retro-inspired clothing and accessories. In addition to the gothic and prom dresses, Torrid also carries a full line of lingerie for this particular market. Listening to the target market, Hot Topic's Torrid offers teenagers and up the opportunity to look "girly yet fierce." 

The design objective for the prototype store that was designed by JGA, Inc. was to create "a celebration of abundance" and make the setting as unique, unconventional and spirited as the plus-size young women who will be shopping here. Inspired by a "mythological, after-hours club in New Orleans," the atmosphere is romantic, dark and filled with a sense of "unbridled passion." "From the signature flaming heart icon to the curving voluptuous lines throughout the store, excessive materials and scale mirror the zest of the Torrid woman." It starts out front with the shopper-stopping facade which serves as a dramatic gateway to the store. 

The curvaceous and sensuous "hourglass" figures of the Torrid customer is expressed in the hand-crafted metalwork and the backlit translucent glass glowing red. A "drippy" red chandelier and the hand blown flaming heart torcheres add to the store's distinctive sense of place and being. The mosaic porcelain tile floor sets the color palette of jewel tones and metallics. "Visually complex, layers of finishes and architectural pieces evoke a one-of-a-kind artistic flavor." The eclectic mix of fixtures, furniture and furnishings-even the armoires--add to the New Orleans flavor. The hand painted, whimsical and overscaled armoires or cabinets are used to anchor the various zones within the store and at the center of the space a large bronze metallic drape further divides the departments.

The designers added special touches to each area to create that unique, one-of-a-kind feeling to the design. Specially designed, oversized red sculptured chairs with slatted backs are featured in the shoe area. Shoes and accessories are displayed on the slatted backs. The lingerie area takes on a more intimate and exotic--almost Moroccan--feeling with the hand blown glass chandeliers suspended down from large plaster domes. Seen behind this area--beyond a hand painted wall and arc--are the individual, oversized dressing rooms which are equipped with flattering uplights and decorative chandeliers that are visible from other parts of the store. The cash wrap becomes a "focal fantasy" in the total design and it resembles a giant canopy bed topped with twisting shapes and forms.

The space is filled with a pulsating excitement that is so appropriate for the merchandise and the young clientele. In addition to the shimmering palette of rich, deep colors, the warm colored downlights not only enrich the ambient colors and textures but they enhance the merchandise display. The traditional long and narrow mall space is broken up into more personal and individual zones by the variations in ceiling heights, the tin ceilings, finials and the assorted wall coverings. The use of brocades, metallics, and jewel tones on the walls also help to differentiate areas in the store. The metal fixture system--tortoise shell like in appearance--was customized to accommodate the products unique size and length requirements.

If all goes as well as anticipated we can expect to see more and more Torrid shops opening up across the USA- maybe even as many as 700 outlets!”

Images and text were scanned from the book, Stores of the Year 14 by Martin Pegler (2003)

[sissa-arrows]

Little history lesson.

In 1960 France was struggling to keep Algeria. They were also very close to “Israel” so they allowed the Mossad to have an office in Paris for “propaganda in Europe”. The Mossad was helping France against Algeria and Algerians wanting the end of colonialism and fighting for their liberation. They use their office in Paris to gather informations about African and Asian countries thanks to France’s colonial empire and send the informations to their US ally. They also help France organize assassinations against the members of the Algerian resistance who were in Cairo.

At the same time “Israel” is hoping to build a relationship with Morocco. They consider the country as a potential ally but also acknowledge that the majority of Morocco’s allies are enemies with “Israel”. Eventually they make a deal with Morocco. Hassan 2 must let Jewish Moroccans leave to colonize Palestine without consequences and in exchange “Israel” will train the Moroccan military and provide them with some weapons. That deal create a relationship between the two countries and that’s when the REAL normalization started behind closed doors.

In 1965 the Arab league has a reunion in Casablanca. During that reunion they say that they need time and weapons before being able to attack “Israel” to help Palestinians and lay out a plan. Hassan 2 has everything recorded and gives the recording to “Israel”. The informations are precious and both sides, both pieces of shit, these informations led to the 6 days war in 1967 and “Israel” admitted they wouldn’t have won without the informations. So Morocco doesn’t give the information for free. They ask for help to kill Mehdi Ben Barka.

Mehdi Ben Barka was a progressive Moroccan man who was getting popular in the Arab world and wanted the end of the Moroccan monarchy. He also supported resistance and the end of colonialism which made him an opponent, the biggest, of Hassan 2. Because of that he was exiled in Europe, so the Mossad used their Paris office to spy on him and give the informations to Morocco. The plan was for the Mossad to find all the information and provide them as well as the fake passports needed for Moroccans and French officials involved to assassinate Ben Barka. But they were not supposed to do the killing themselves. They find him in Geneva and give the informations to Morocco. That plan fails so the Mossad organize an other plan. They invite Ben Barka to Paris pretending to be French and to want to make a documentary about him. Once in Paris two French cops arrest him and take him to an appartement where he is tortured by a Moroccan with the complicity of the two French cops. Officially the Mossad wasn’t there during the torture (suuuuuuuure). Ben Barka dies from the torture. The Mossad then made his body disappear.

2 years later De Gaulle was still so angry at what happened in France that he actually put a weapons embargo on “Israel” during the 6 days war and ordered for the Mossad office in Paris to be dismantled. (I think De Gaulle was totally on it, his issue was that it happened in Paris which made France look bad instead of it happening in Geneva as planned)

Edit: An article in French retracing everything with a couple more details

[strangegutz]

it's really cool how you get a really strong sense of hbg's world & environment just based on a few characters. they just feel really tightly knit that its easy to see all the threads that tie them together. i really love seeing you post about hbg & it's been inspiring me to post more about my own story.

that being said, what would the world look like? either in terms of overall aesthetic/architectural styles or just how the main characters live (where they live, how they decorate, etc...)

Thank you!!

The world is very all-over-the-place aesthetically, but keeps within the broad idea of "retro-futuristic." Different regions have different "fashions," if you will, as society at large has more or less broken apart and became their own independent chunks (if that makes ANY sense) The law of the land is that you gotta look good to be taken seriously, which is why the best of the best criminals are very campy, and sense of fashion in every region is very strong. (Yes, this is an excuse for me to draw everyone in fun costumes whenever I can) Heartbreak Gulch is in New Mexico, and the entire southwest region is very 1970s western. The Heartbreakers themselves live in small houses that have been fixed up.

Eddie has the most stuff- he's never settled down anywhere, so he's excited to collect things. Eddie picks up whatever colorful antiques he can, there's tropical birds, animal print, plants, and groovy furniture. He has the biggest house

Zeki's place is dominated by bookshelves and tanks for various animals, but where there's room he's gone with a romantic gothic look- dark antique furniture, velvet and ribbons, with some Moroccan pieces here and there. (Tibbs wants me to mention Zeki's scorpion tank that is a scale replica of the town's main road)

White lives like this

[lolasimms]

lazy sundays

Summary: Your wife has an affinity for all things orderly, neat and precise. You on the other hand are the complete opposite. To her Sundays are for productivity, but you have other ideas.

When you walked into the kitchen, your wife was already seated at the table eating her very practical breakfast. She was a very particular person. As always, her black coffee was to her right, served in a plain, white mug. A cup of water sat to her left.

Next to the water was a plate of plain, buttered toast, and beside her coffee was a small container of greek yogurt. A mostly eaten grapefruit sat unfinished in a bowl in front of her with a jagged, spiked spoon next to it. Her precise meal was part of what she insisted kept her body in shape. To her breakfast was simple, she'd spend the rest of the day pumping her body full of protein anyways.

She didn't hear you come into the room. Her tablet was propped up on its stand, and she was scrolling through a patient assessment from the hospital in between bites of bitter fruit and strong coffee. Walking up behind her, you tousled her wet hair as you passed by her, disrupting the smooth style.

You yawned on your way to the coffeemaker and pulled your favorite mug out of the cabinet above. You set the giant, mug etched with Moroccan patterns, down a little too loudly, earning your wife's attention.

"Good morning, Sleeping Beauty," she teased, pushing her hair back into place. "Sleep well?"

You grunted and poured a glug of vanilla syrup into your coffee before returning the bottle back to the pantry and kicking it closed. You grunted at her, not ready to speak yet. Coffee first. Glaring at her from behind your mug, you took a long sip of coffee out of the mug. You tipped the mug up, flashing her your middle finger.

Your hair was a mess, and your eyes were still tired. You'd thrown on an oversized, ratty t-shirt with holes around the collar, worn thin from years of use. You padded back over to her in your fluffy slippers and bent to give her a kiss. While your lips met hers, you reached over and took her tablet, taking it with you as you returned to your seat.

"No work on Sundays."

Abby gave you a half hearted scowl while leaning back in her chair and folding her arms across her chest as if she was going to challenge you, but then thought better of it. "So," she asked with a smirk, "Are you going to eat breakfast today or just over-caffeinate?" 

You tucked your leg under you and sat down before taking another pointed sip of coffee just to flash her with another flick of your middle finger. "I haven't decided yet."

Abby hummed and pushed the plate of toast across the table to you. "Eat." The two pieces of bread were toasted to your exact specifications: lightly browned and slathered in butter with each piece being cut into four sharp little triangles.

"Wow. Toast." You teased, opening your mouth wide and shoveling in a toast point. Your cheeks bulged as you chewed, and she shook her head at you. "You shouldn't have gone through the trouble, babe." Crumbs fell onto your shirt when you spoke with your mouth full, and you brushed them onto the floor.

Your wife was ever amused by your carefree nature - whatever that meant. She thought you played too loosey-goosey with life, and you thought she had a stick up her ass at least 90% of the time. Her proposal had possibly been the most unromantic experience of your life and could have only been worse if she had presented you with a prenup attached to the ring. But still, you'd jumped up and down with your hands over your mouth, screaming your acceptance before pouncing on her for a kiss. You'd knocked the ring out of her hand, and you cried for fifteen minutes straight in the middle of the park where you had met while she searched the grass. Of course, when she found it and slid it on your finger, you started crying all over again and subjecting poor Abby to the accusing eyes of anyone who passed by.

"What's the plan for today mommy?" You wiggled from side-to-side in your chair doing your happy dance while you ate the rest of your toast.

Abby looked very satisfied with herself when she told you that she had already done everything on her to do list. "I went for to the gym, showered, called dad, put in a grocery order, did a little work, and had breakfast."

You glowered at her and shoved another toast point into your mouth to keep from telling her to shove her over-efficiency up her nicely rounded ass.

"What about you, darling?"

Shrugging, you chased your food down with a couple sips of coffee and dusted your fingers off over your plate. "Same shit I do every Sunday." You felt her eyes on you when you hopped out of your seat and set your plate in the sink before returning to the table and clearing her away.

"So nothing?"

You smiled while you rinsed the dishes and loaded them into the dishwasher. You didn't need to see her to know that she was still leaned back in her chair, legs fully extended and crossed under the table, arms folded across her chest, left eyebrow raised with her blue eyes sparkling as she spewed what she considered to be impugnable sarcastic wit.

You closed the dishwasher and hit it with your hip to make sure the latch caught. Abby was sitting exactly as you expected her to, and you cocked your head to the side as you drank her in. Her honey coloured hair damp, as it rested against her Henley top. Pink lips soft as ever and arms looking so delectable you thought you'd combust right there.

"Mostly, yes." Your hand was on your hip as you leaned against the counter.

She hummed at you as she left her seat to retrieve her tablet. "Well, if you have nothing planned, I'm going to keep working." As she passed you, she dropped a sweet kiss on your lips before refilling her coffee before retiring to the living room.

Trailing behind her, you grabbed your phone from the charger in the beroom and took a seat across from her in the armchair that faced the couch. You scrolled through social media mindlessly, liking and hearting, chuckling at memes, and quickly becoming bored. Putting your phone down, you leaned your head in your hands and sighed heavily. Abby glanced up from her work, saw you were fine - just over dramatic - and went back to working.

It was hard to get over how hot she was, and you loved looking at her. You did it often - just sitting and looking at her. Every piece of her was perfect. You loved her toned legs and how long they were and how strong she was. Her pants always hung low on her hips, held up by the most adorable ass you had ever seen. It was perfect for squeezing and making her yelp when you bit it. An accidental little moan slipped out when you thought about the last time you'd gotten your hands on her. Abby's hands stilled and her eyes snapped to yours. The look she gave you confirmed she knew you were perving on her.

"Stop ogling me."

You groaned and slumped in your chair. "Ugh, but I can't help it." You dropped your head back and complained to the ceiling. "You don't understand," you whined. "You're just so fine. I can't help it."

Abby deadpanned. "You'll live." And then she went right back to working.

You snapped back up in your seat and glared at her, testing her to see if she would break first but knowing full well that it would be you. Her eyes were on the tablet, but her hands were idle, and she was having trouble keeping her amused smirk at bay. That little upwards tug of her lips might as well have been an invitation. Crawling out of your chair, you padded over to her. You stood next to the couch, hands clasped demurely in front of you as you waited for her attention.

Your doting wife continued to pretend to ignore you. She continued to work, forcing herself to keep her eyes on the tablet and not you. If she did, the game would be over, and what would be the fun in that? Wiggling your fingers greedily as you reached for the table, you plucked it out of her hand and tossed it onto the coffee table.

"You're an ass. You know that right?" Taking her hands, you opened her arms and crawled into her embrace. You settled onto her lap, rocking your hips against her with a coy smile. Abby hummed deep in her chest when you kissed her chastely. It was the sweetest whisper of a kiss with your hands on either side of her face.

"And you're needy." Abby's hands slipped under your shirt. She leaned into you, asking for another kiss. You gave it to her, and she took more than you were giving. She nipped at your lip and tugged your mouth back to hers. You moaned into her mouth, and she swept it away with tongue. She tasted bitter - like coffee and grapefruit - but she felt good.

Underneath the hem of your shirt, she pawed at your bottom, kneading your ass while she guided you to rock back and forth on her lap. You felt her crotch as she ground it up against you; you were greedy for her - just the hint of her arousal making you clench around nothing. Hands wandering from her broad shoulders to her hair, you sank your fingers into the gorgeous strands you were obsessed with, grabbing it at the root and making her seeth. You broke the kiss and pulled her head back, holding yourself just out of range.

Abby bared her teeth at you and tried to nip at your neck, but your hand in her hair acted as an anchor and kept her at bay. Rising up on your knees, you held your lips just shy of her, close enough to feel your warm breath drift across her lips but far enough away that she couldn't steal a kiss. You basked in the power of depriving her of what she wanted - consequences be damned. Teasing her with a little taste, you licked her lips playfully. Abby immediately tried to snap her teeth at you, but she was too slow to catch you.

"Come on, wife. Let me go." She wasn't asking. It was an order presented as a choice. Her hands were starting to roam your body, skimming up and down your sides, ghosting your skin with her fingers. The featherlight touches erupted goosebumps on your skin and sent your shivering as an excited chill ran through your body. She knew exactly where to touch without even having to look at you.

When her hands brushed the bottom of your breast, you tugged her hair back farther in warning.

"Are you looking for trouble, baby?" Her voice was low, and her eyes sparked trouble. You knew that tone well, and you loved what came along with it.

You nodded deviously and licked the side of her face, disappointed when she didn't react. You had at least expected her to look surprised.

"I warned you once," she said. "Let go."

You shook your head from side to side. You weren't giving up your power - even if it was just an illusion.

"Remember, you did this to yourself." was as much of a warning as you got. Abby pinched your nipple hard, making you buck against her. Your grip in her hair loosened for just a moment, but that was all that she needed to pull herself out of your grasp. She moved quickly, grabbing your wrists and forcing them behind your back. The position pushed your back into an arch and put your breasts in her face. Your nipples were hard peaks, and you looked on nervously while she rubbed her lips over them.

"Are you going to be good?" She sucked your nipple through the shirt, and you tried to pull your hands free. She looked up at you with her mouth on your breast. The fabric of your shirt was starting to darken, wet with her spit.

You whined, trying to wiggle out of her hold while still keeping her mouth on you. Abby held your wrists tightly and snickered at your helplessness. She moved to your other breast and repeated the same torture. She teased you, switching back and forth between them until her plan backfired and she ran out of patience.

She looked at you desperately, undecided. Her choices were either to let you go and touch more of you and risk your impertinence or leave you restrained and her choices limited.

You took advantage of her frustration and ground yourself against her clothed-cunt. You knew you were soaked and probably had left a wet spot on her grey sweat shorts where you had been rocking against her.

Still, Abby held your arms behind you and held you hostage on her lap.

"You could just let me go, darling." You teased her, doing a fair impression of her voice.

"But I don't trust you" she copied yours, and you scoffed.

"I don't sound like that," you argued. At this point it didn't matter if your arms were behind your back or not. Your bratty attitude didn't require the use of your hands.

Abby's eyebrow went up and gave you a stern look. Her beautiful eyes were framed with the most delicate blonde lashes. Even when she was trying to look angry, you found her face sweet. She was far too serious in everything she did, and you loved her for it. Just thinking about how much you loved her made your heart swell, and you knew the moment that she saw how deeply you felt for her written across your face.

Abby released her grip on you and let your arms free. Immediately, you lifted your shirt over your head and let it hit the floor. Abby watched you silently as you crawled off her lap and stood to remove your underwear.  You smiled sheepishly as it slid down your leg, and you kicked it away. She always looked at you like you were beautiful, and you still weren't used to being so thoroughly adored.

You held your hand out for her to take. "I'm going back to bed. Do you want to come?"

Abby snickered and took your hand as she stood up. "Pun intended, darling? She tugged your hand and led you to the bedroom while you rolled your eyes at the terrible joke. You hopped onto the bed, bouncing on your knees while she undressed and squealing when she grabbed reached into the draw for her strap, quickly putting it on and then you turning you around by the waist and crawled on top of you.

She kissed you without a word, nudging your legs open with her knees and sliding between them. Her arms caged you in on either side of your head, and you snaked your arms around her neck and begged for a kiss. Abby wasted no time in giving you what you wanted. Her lips were soft and pink, and you lost yourself in how she made you feel. Eyes closed, you sighed happily as she kissed you until you were dizzy and obsessed with what her mouth and tongue were doing.

Her strap was sliding back and forth against your slit, your slick wetting the pink piece of rubber. Abby bucked causing you to moan, positioning herself at your entrance. You lifted your head to ask for another kiss, while she guided the tip of the strap into you. While she slanted her lips back over yours, you smiled into the kiss. Your mouth went slack as she pushed into you; the slow burn muddling your brain. Abby's lips moved to your jaw and your neck and your ear. Her mouth was everywhere she could reach as she moved your hand out from between your bodies and fully sank into you.

Arching against her, your body pressed against hers and your limbs folded around her. You clung to her, draping your arms around her neck and wrapping your legs around her waist. Abby settled her body weight on top of you and slowly began to move, dragging out your pleasure with long strokes and slow pushes into you. Your need was building. Each time she pulled back, she left just enough inside you to make you clench around her, desperate to stay with her.

"More. Please, Abs. More. You're torturing me." You whispered your plea against her neck, kissing the secret spot under her ear that only you knew about. Your teeth grazed against her skin. You nipped the same spot, and she growled at you and snapped her hips against yours.

Her name fell out of your mouth on a curse, and you sucked the same spot into your mouth, lathing your tongue over it before sucking at it again. You worked the spot, not stopping until you had marked her.

You begged her again for more. She was too soft, too gentle, and you needed more . You were so close and you just needed a little more.

Abby lifted her head and rose back up on her knees. She looked at you greedily. She gripped your thighs and hauled you roughly against her. You back arched and you called out when she bottomed out in you.

"Harder. Please. Fuck me harder. Please." Your hands grabbed at your breasts and pinched your nipples. You were ready to come. "Let me come on your cock, please please please." you whined and pleaded while she slammed her hips against yours and gave you exactly what you had asked for.

Abby sucked her thumb into her mouth to wet it before dropping it to your clit. You continued to beg for more while she rubbed you. Her fingers and strap were pushing you towards ecstasy. Your body clenched around her. 

"Come."

With one word, the need in you snapped, and your orgasm hit you.

Out of breath and exhausted, she pulled out and flopped down onto the bed beside you, immediately pulling you to her and kissing your forehead. She took a deep breath, holding it for a moment before letting it whoosh out all at once.

Resting your head on her chest, you patted her chest contentedly. "I told you Sundays were for staying in bed."

[bullet-prooflove]

Stockton!Series Part Eight: Canvas - Nestor Oceteva x Reader

Tagging: @crazy4chickennuggets @kmc1989 @anime-weeb-4-life @danzer8705 @drabbles-mc @alwaysachorusgirl @witches-unruly-heart @mysoulisasunflower @im-just-a-mississippi-girl @est1887 @mortal--soul @buddinglinguist @spookyboogyuniverse @thanossexual @lexondeck @weiwei0210 @trublu2u @justreblogginfics @oklahomapeach @keyweegirliee @dakotapaigelove @wnbweasley @jadesamhart @sisinever @skyesthebomb @msjava1972 @fleureeee @jp1019 @thiashazzywriting @fanfic-n-tabulous @ravennaortiz @just-a-throw-away

Stockton!Series:

Part One: El Cuchillo - An incident in the clubhouse causes ramifcations for the entire club.

Part Two: Always - Nestor learns about what happened.

Part Three: In the Dark - You and Nestor wake up to find armed men in your house.

Part Four: Sierra - Marcus takes care of the men who tried to kill you.

Part Five: Maternal - Nestor and you take refuge at a familiar location.

Part Six: Times Are Changing - Marcus and Bishop discuss moving forward with the club.

Part Seven: Graveside (feat: Marcus Alvarez) - You and Marcus discuss your mother at her graveside.

It’s late when you come back home to the house that you and Nestor share. The electricity is still off from where they’d cut the power during the break in, but Nestor has illuminated the rooms with the battery powered Moroccan lamps you use for mood lighting. It’s a pretty, welcoming glow.

You find him sitting on the floor of his art studio, the stench of gasoline is barely noticeable unlike the ruined floorboards from where the cohesive material had eaten its way through the varnish. His unruly curls hang loose around his shoulders as he sits in front of a canvas, spreading paint across it with one of the thicker brushes. He’s clad in a loose vest and grey basketball shorts., the light from the Moroccan lamps casting a warm glow across his skin.

He's absorbed in the task, his brushwork methodical. Painting is where he goes to hide away from the world, to make sense of it. Everything that’s happened over the past few days it’s too raw, too much. Now that things have settled you have to process what happened, deal with it.

“Gilly’s gonna come by tomorrow, give us a quote for the shit that needs fixing.” Nestor tells you, his gaze still fixated on the canvas as he swirls the paintbrush. “Bottles and EZ helped clear out the stuff that can’t be repaired. We’re gonna need a new bed and couch and our books are ruined…”

You reach out across the space between you, your hand coming to rest upon his forearm, thumb gently smoothing over his skin.

“Nes.” You say softly. “I’m sorry about what happened to your paintings.”

Out of everything that was destroyed you know that is the one that hurts. They’re things that you can never get back. his creativity, his brilliance they shine through in all the work he does, he leaves a piece of himself in every painting.

“They’re just things…” He says with a sigh, raking his hand through his hair.

“It still matters.” You tell him and he looks up at you.

You can see the pain in his eyes, the anguish because those paintings, they meant the world to him. He sets the paintbrush down before he studies the artwork in front of him, the one he’d been working on before your home had been invaded. It had been beautiful once, darkness and light contrasting against each other. The night sky and the stars, the desert landscape. Now the paint runs down it in rivets, the chemicals from the gasoline burning into the canvas, eroding it.

“I was working on something for your birthday.” He tells you, his gaze lowering back to the canvas in front of him. “They fucked it up, they came into our home…”

He trails off, the line of his jaw clenching.

“I keep thinking about what would have happened if we hadn’t woken up that night.” He says quietly, his chin coming to rest upon his knee. “If I’d been on that run up to Denver, the way that I was supposed to be. You would have been here alone…”

He’d been about to embark on a security run for Rose Kush when he’d gotten the call from Bishop. It would have been a three-day job. Coco had taken it instead after he’d heard what happened to you with Ramos. You shift until you end up kneeling beside him. You wrap your arms around him, drawing him close, your lips brush over his hairline as he buries his face into the curve of your throat.

“I don’t know what I would have done if I’d lost you.” He whispers against your skin. “It came too close this time Mi Corizon, it was far too close.”

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Like My Work? - Why Not Buy Me A Coffee

[minthy]

URGENT COMMS!!(+free piece with every commission above 35$)

I do: (All less than 35$!!)

-comics

-character sheets

-PNG sprites

-Pixel sprites

-Illustrations

-ships (no proships)

-fanarts

-Short animations

(you can only get a free one with each commission, meaning that if you got two pieces at once you get just a free one, but if You commissioned me again later, you'll get an other free one)

⬇️⬇️⚠️⬇️⬇️

so here's the thing, why is it urgent?

the tablet I use to draw, is not actually mine, it's From where dad works, and uh, something happened (don't wanna say names) and the Higherups are taking back all the tecnologies they gave to the employees and this tablet happened to be one of them,

And now I have to get as much money as I can so I can afford an other one to work with, I hope yall Understand, 🧍‍♂️💔

so, Please if you can commme as soon as possible, please do, ans if you can't please repost this,

anyway, About payment, preferably paypal, but if you are moroccan and can send directly to my bank account, it'll be So great and cheep for all of us 🙏 (average BMCE bank user)

[dragonthunders01]

History Giants: Titanichthys clarki

Ti. clarki is among the largest known placoderms we have fossil record off, remains of their jaws, skull and shield bones are found scattered but some complete specimens offer a complete view of this peculiar and possible first large filter feeding vertebrate from the late devonian. AMNH 7315 or AMNH FF 7134 (IDK why the different ID from Engelman reference) represent one of the biggest known specimens recovered alongside the Moroccan Ti. termieri, having a head length of 75 cm and extended flat a breadth of 1.4 meters.

Engelman paper on Dunkleosteus body calculation used the measurements of this specimen alongside the smaller but quite complete CMNH 5768 implementing OOL giving on both specimens a body size of 3.7 and 4.15 meters respectively, making this one of the few placoderms that can rivalice in length to Dunkleosteus.

Reconstructing Titanichthys

If you are wondering about some details on this reconstruction looking this way, proportions, shape of the head and the strange "fang" on the front that lacks many recons is because I spend some time trying to check how to reconstruct properly this armored fish, which ended up with this skeletal reconstruction

This already comes from what I tried to do several months ago with the need to properly reconstruct this placoderm since the available figures and references seem not to expose several elements, even those that we do know exist which are not often highlighted in the paper skeletal reconstructions. in this case the base of everything is mostly from CMNH 50319, perhaps one of the most complete Titanichthys with material described online (scale bar 1 m)

I was not just comfy about doing this reconstruction based only in sketches, so instead on assuming proportions by digital sketches in a 2D way, I spend few weeks working my way into blender and modeling each pieces I did build a basic model from most of the bone that forms the whole skull and thoracic shield bones, the model for the moment is not available anywhere, and I don't think I could share it online for the moment.

Every minor thing that is not know is being filled with other of its relatives such as Bungartius and Tafilalichthys, both species the most close relatives on few cladistic trees. Unlike the filter feeder, these two are known to might have been hard prey eaters, they are relatively more complete and better preserved so they work out as a reference base being one of the most useful aspects the lacking elements of the jaw.

Probably is important to remark a lot of mounts that are used as references are pretty incomplete in the front, with also the lower jaw being backwards, the extreme of the jaws should be touching in V shape and the notch probably was filled with cartilage called a meckel's cartilage.

In general picking Bungartius as a sample the upper jaw possess the complete set of superognathal plates, the upper jaw bones that exist on all placoderms, in many species vary in size and shape, which even Titanichthys there is some evidence of a Posterior Supergnathal Plate along the complete specimen (PSG, see above), but not the Anterior (MG or ASG), inferring from the position of both supergnathal and the articulation of the cheek bone where the inferognathal fits, this hypothetically could mark how these bones configurated in the skull.

Eye with this, my reconstruction is speculative, based on how these bones articulates on other specimens, new evidence and more material could provide a more accurate conclusion.

Compared to Dunkleosteus is amazing that level of diversity these reached on the last days of the Devonian, both belonging to two totally different radiations of Arthrodira they grew to become the giants of their time, though currently with this body reconstruction Dunk remains very robust on body shape compared to the more compact shaped Titan.

BTW for those curious how it would look like with its jaw closed.

[chicago-pd-is-weird]

Alvin Olinsky Oneshot

Requested by @andgry4

Synopsis: This plays out a scenario from the deleted scene after Al’s death, where the team is listening to Trudy tell a story about Al from their glory days, presumably out on the beat. See the scene in the YouTube video below, then read the oneshot below the cut!

Al got into the car beside Trudy, nodding a small ‘good morning’ to her. He pulled out his banana, starting to eat it in silence as he sipped his coffee alongside it.

“Morning Al. How’s Meredith?”

Al hummed in reply. “Discouraged. She wants a kid. She still hasn’t been able to get pregnant.”

“Ugh.” Trudy contorted her face in disgust. “Pregnancy.”

“Yep,” he replied, looking out the window as they started out down the street on their patrol.

“I’m assuming Hank is still out with Camille?”

“Yep,” Al repeated with a shrug. “She’s taking it hard.”

Trudy shook her head. “One can’t get pregnant, the other has twins but one is stillborn. What’s wrong with your DNA?”

Al hiked his shoulders again, shaking his head. “I eat plenty of bananas, like she tells me to. Granted, she read that in a tabloid but I’ve been doing whatever she wants.”

“Wise choice. Wasn’t it oranges last month?”

Al sighed and nodded. “I think she’s going to make me start eating both with every meal.” He shook his head. “As long as she doesn’t take away my coffee.”

“Hear, hear,” Trudy replied.

.

The morning was quiet, which didn’t bother Al or Trudy too much. They made small talk about whatever they saw on the street, places to eat, and crazy stories about their years on the job. They talked about goals and where they wanted to be in a few years, not to mention getting more coffee and billing it to the department.

As the afternoon rolled around, Al looked to Trudy. “I know this really good Moroccan place on the south side.”

“Nah, I’m in the mood for Tex-Mex.”

“Come on, Trudy, we just had tacos yesterday.”

“Then you can walk down the street to the McDonald’s,” she replied with a shrug as she pulled the patrol car onto a side street. “Come on, Al, this is a really good place.”

“I let you drive out of respect, but if you’re going to keep taking us to get tacos every day, I’m going to lift the keys off you first chance I get.”

“Try me, Olinsky,” she replied with a glare, then got out of the car.

Al sighed and followed her into the Mexican restaurant. They got their food, then sat in the booth beside the window. Al begrudgingly ate his taco, watching out the window as Trudy ate hers. He stopped and put down his food a moment later, sighing. “Aw, man…”

“What?” Trudy looked up with wide eyes, then caught Al’s gaze, sighing heavily and stuffing another bite in her mouth before both of them got up and ran out of the restaurant.

“Hey, Chicago PD!” Al announced to the two men across the way, toting large guns as they patrolled the outer doors of a warehouse. “Put your hands where we can see them!”

The two men immediately grabbed their guns, spraying bullets at Al And Trudy, who ducked behind a parked car. Then, the men ran inside. Guns drawn, Al and Trudy moved toward the door, Trudy calling for backup on the radio. Then, the two of them stormed the warehouse on their own, which resulted in a shootout.

Al and Trudy were both pinned behind pieces of equipment in the warehouse. Bullets ricocheted off the metal everywhere, making it that much more dangerous. They couldn’t gain leverage except when the men had to reload.

.

After several hours and many rounds of bullets later, SWAT was able to come in and apprehend the men with guns. When the warehouse was searched, it would found that there were more guns, more than Al or Trudy had ever seen before in one spot. They both gave their reports to the Sergeant on duty, then were dismissed back to the district.

The car ride was silent except for the occasional heavy breath as they both re-loved the trauma they’d gone through that day. Al looked out the window. After about ten minutes of being stuck in traffic, Al looked over at Trudy. “Told you we should’ve gone to that Moroccan place on the south side, but no, you wanted to hit up the Tex-Mex place.”

Trudy looked over at Al. “I don’t want to hear it.”

“They have great yogurt there, and they use fresh mint and so many other great ingredients. We should stop there and bill it to the department. For psychological damages.”

“I doubt that will fly with our Sergeant.” Trudy glanced down, a frown coming to her face as she looked back up to the road. “Al, what the hell happened?”

Alvin didn’t say anything at first, catching her gaze on his pant leg, then slowly looking up at her, just looking her over for a moment. “Yeah…” he mumbled. “I got shot.”

Trudy’s eyes widened twice their normal size, and she pulled the squad over, looking at him. “You got SHOT?! Why didn’t you say anything?!”

Al just stared at Trudy, as if examining her entire face and committing it to memory before speaking. “I didn’t wanna bother anybody.”

Trudy scoffed, but could see he was serious. She shook her head and immediately took off her coat, pressing it into his leg. “I’m taking you to Med.”

Al put a hand on her arm. “No, just take me home. I’ll use my first aid kit.”

“Hell no you’re not.”

“Trudy, please. I can’t put Meredith through a hospital visit. The stress isn’t good for her. I’ll just throw away this pair of pants when I get inside and sneak into the bathroom before she sees me.”

“That’s not going to work.”

“Sure it is.”

“No, come on, if you want go to the hospital, then I’m taking you to my place.”

“I can do it on my own.”

“Alvin, I said no.”

Al finally relented, seeing as Trudy wouldn’t. She took him to her house, stitching up his leg, washing his pants, and sewing them up. “There. They’re not perfect but they’ll pass by Meredith until you can toss them and get new ones.”

“Thanks, Trudy. And just in time for dinner. Why don’t you come over? I’m sure Meredith would love to see you again.”

Trudy smiled. “I’d like that a lot, Olinsky.”

[najia-cooks]

Hey Najia! I love this blog so much! I have a question. I find cooking pretty difficult sometimes. I'm chronically ill and also the kitchen stresses me out a bit because I'm very scatterbrained and there's knives and fire and stuff. I also fuck things up in the kitchen pretty easy. Are there any recipes on here you find particularly easy to make? That you'd recommend for when you just cannot be arsed? Hope you're having a wonderful day, I know it's your birthday 😄🎉

Thank you!

I can understand your stress—cooking can involve things that are objectively dangerous and also time-sensitive. I'd recommend:

Try recipes where you don't have to come into direct contact with the blades you use. Some Indian dals, for example, cook lentils in a sauce made from blended onion, tomato, and garlic; you could process them using a food processor or blender. A lot of things (fresh salsa, guacamole, a duqqa of garlic, chilies, and spices that you can throw in to cook with some lentils) can be prepared in a mortar and pestle, too.

I've never used one, but a vegetable chopper might help in a similar way that a food processor would, by reducing the amount of knifework that you have to do. There are a lot of recipes where a chopped onion is the only knifework required.

Also try recipes that are cooked in the oven, and not on the stovetop. Something that gets thrown into the oven on low heat to cook (like a casserole or fukharat dish) takes longer, but is more hands-off, than something that's cooked on the stove.

Do all of your prep work first. Read through the recipe and see what chopping, blending &c. needs to be done, prep each ingredient, and put it in its own little bowl. This includes anything in the ingredients list that says "1 onion, diced" or similar: do that right off the bat. If the recipe says "meanwhile" or asks you to do prep for anything while anything else is cooking, you might choose to disregard that and do all the prep first, depending on how long the cook time is and how much attention it needs (e.g., soup on a low simmer for half an hour can pretty much be left alone; anything in a frying pan cannot). This way you won't be rushing to chop anything quickly while worrying that something else is going to overcook.

Look for vegetables, like broccoli / cauliflower / romanesco and green beans, that can be broken up with your hands rather than chopped. Rip up cilantro and parsley rather than chopping them.

Admittedly "simple" is not the guiding principle of this blog, but here are some recipes that I think could be easily adapted:

Fukharat l3des: just one onion to chop. Cooked on low heat in the oven.

Fried tofu sandwich: just mixing sauces and spices. You can skip coating the tofu in cornstarch and frying it. Instead try freezing the whole block, thawing it, cutting into two or four pieces, and then marinating it in a plastic bag with your sauce overnight. Then bake the tofu for 15-20 minutes, turning once, at 350 °F (180 °C).

Roasted celery and potato soup: requires only very rough chopping; the cooking methods are baking and simmering. The fried tempering could be skipped by just adding those ingredients into the simmer earlier.

Carrot salad or chickpea salad or tapenade: you could throw all of the ingredients in a food processor.

Moroccan lentils: just an onion and tomato to grate or process.

Kashmiri lal chaman: the only thing you need to cut is tofu; the gravy is just water and spices. You could bake the tofu instead of frying it.

Black bean burgers: no chopping or frying if you omit the onion and carrot and elect to bake the finished patties.

'Chicken' and olive tajine: the marinade is blended or pounded, and there is no other prepwork to do other than chopping one onion. Everything can be simmered on low heat until cooked, so it's pretty hands-off.

Chana pulao: mostly rice, chickpeas, and spices. Some aromatic prep, but you could crush instead of chopping those.

Romanesco quiche: no knifework at all if you omit the aromatics and break aprt the romanesco with your hands.

Spanish garlic mushrooms: just crush garlic instead of slicing and buy pre-sliced mushrooms. There is frying, though.

Eggplant cooked salad: the eggplant is broiled and then spooned out. No knifework required if you use tomato puree.

Butternut squash soup: just roasting and simmering. No knifework required if you omit the aromatics and buy pre-cubed squash.

Dishes with a base of lentils, chickpeas, beans, rice, and/or noodles are great because there's no knifework that needs to be done to prepare the beans &c. themselves.

[canonsinthehead]

What Ethnicity/Race are Naruto Characters?

Naruto: 25% Japanese, 75% White (Born and raised in USA)

Sasuke: Japanese

Sakura: Japanese or East European or Both

Kakashi: Japanese

Shikamaru: Japanese

Choji : Mongolian

Ino: Northen European (probably Swedish)

Asuma: Japanese Mixed Islander

Shino: German

Hinata: Japanese-Chinese

Kiba: Mexican

Kurenai: Spanish or Greek

Gaaara: Syrian

Temari: Lebanese

Kankuro : Moroccan

Baki: Egyptian

Tsunade: Russian

Jiraya: Japanese

Orochimaru: snake

Pain/Yahiko: Irish

Konan : French

Nagato: Japanese

Kakuzu : Jamaican

Hidan : Dutch

Itachi: Japanese

Kisame: Blasian (Japanese/Caribbean)

Sasori : idk yet

Deidara: German

Zetsu : Groot

Zabuza: Japanese-Latino (I chose Dominican Republic but It can be another country)

Haku : Japanese

Juuzo Biwa: Dominican (same as Zabuza)

All Uchiha clan: Japanese

Shisui uchiha: Rumored to be half breed, hence the negative disposition have against him. Blood mixing is forbidden in the Uchiha clan so not being pure blooded or even being a bastard is extremely frown upon. Shisui swears he is a whole Uchiha but many ignores his words and bring up this especially when questioning the nature of his abilities. He stopped fighting the accusations, it’s a joke to him at this point.

Hyuuga clan: Japanese-Chinese

Senju clan: Japanese

Kushina: Irish

Minato : Japanese

Kabuto : English

Yamato: Japanese

A, Killer Bee, Karui, Omoi, Darui : Black American

Shi/C: Korean

Raikage’s Assistant: Black biracial (like Doja Cat)

Samui (Fergie): American

Suigetsu: English (blasting that UK drill rap)

Karin: West European (idk from where)

Juugo: Japanese-American

Kimimaro : Korean

Danzo : Japanese

Sai : Japanese

Hiruzen: Japanese

Kawaki: Brazilian

Iwabe: Puerto Rican

Shizuma Hoshigaki: Japanese , 25% Caribbean

Fuu : Mexican

Utakata : Korean

(One Piece next...)