#Italian Hard Cheese

[kakusu-shipping]

Pre-relationship 4-6 for the Mario Bros.! (Or your favorite of those questions if you only want one haha)

Yes!!! More Mario Bros ramble!!! Blessed!! Thankyou!!

4. Who felt romantic feelings first?

Hard to say, sense they've always been like this. There's not a specific moment either of them could go back to and say when they fell in love, they've always loved eachother, you know?

Though Luigi was the first to recognize these feelings as romantic, and different than how he loved, say, their mom and dad, and that that was something important. Mario didn't think it mattered what kind of love they had, their mama had taught them Love is Love, so what does it matter, right?

This happened when they were like 7.

5. Did either of them try to resist their feelings?

Maybe not quiet resist, but Mario did consider it for a while.

Around middle school-ish age, 12 or 13, their mom sat the brothers down to explain the difference between Familial and Romantic love, and why that difference was important, kind of assuming they didn't really know the difference in their emotions yet.

The whole thing made Mario feel awful. He'd made his mother worry, his father angry, and worst of all he, the older brother, put Luigi on the line for his own selfish reasoning.

The only reason he didn't fully withdrawal from Luigi and stew in an early sea of self deprecation was Luigi rubbing it in Mario's face that he was right, that the love he has for Mario and the love he has for the rest of their family is different. He did an "I Told You So" dance and everything. He was right and Mario was wrong ha ha ha ha ha!

So yeah. Mario considered resisting his feelings for all of about 20 minutes before Luigi snapped him out of it, and reminded him why that would simply never work. Not for them.

6. If you had told one of them that the other would be their soulmate, what would they think?

Mario doesn't believe in soulmates, he's a simple guy and not all that romantic in the grand scheme sense. Luigi on the other hand is all about Cosmic Connection and the "Over and Over again, life after life, I will find you, and I fall in love with you again and again" kind of cheesy nonsense. He'd be over the moon about it.

#Thankyou for asking #Mariocest #I'm so BLESSED already!!!!!! GOD!!! #Look man I LOVE THEM I love them I love them I love them #1 2 3 and 7 would be hard to answer with the bros huh fkgjfdkjgkdf #I considered 7 because of the Yoshi Island backstory but eeeeh #That's a concept for another day #OKAY HANG ON #I did it again I made Mario sound Emotionally Distant that's not. That's not what I mean #Mario IS a Romantic a Big Time Romantic just not in the Cosmic sense like Luigi #Luigi had a weeb phase so of course he's feral about Soulmate AUs #Mario's a Classic Romantic he likes a candle lit Italian dinner and a Bouquet of Roses and Slow Dances that sweep you of your feet #He loves the smooze the Cheese the romantic music and the nice suit #He'd probably really like Hallmark movies unironically #Luigi's not much for a big show or big acts he likes to do the small things #Rub Mario's shoulders when he looks tired and make him a cup of coffee in the morning and hold his hand when they're walking side by side #You get me? #Mario likes to DO big actions he loves to be the Guy with the Rose and he'd love to some day be the one on his knees with the ring #Am I making sense? Hopefully #They are in love your honor they always have been and they always will be #Shipcest

[2hoothoots]

Have you ever filled out a “get to know my ship in five minutes” templates for the fsaau trio? :) Cause if not here’s your chance to don’t hold back my guy here you go (template made by @/riessene)

YES...YES!!!!

extra hcs/thoughts i had when filling this out under the cut

i don't know if i could give accurate numbers for their heights, Psychonaut heights are all out of wack. Sasha and Milla are both 7'2". Loboto is nine feet tall. listen what do you want me to do

Raz and Lili have a whole litany of nicknames for each other. every single sappy pet name you can think of, it's in there. sometimes they goof around and call each other by their last names if they're feeling particularly silly

Raz and Dogen are both pretty good cooks, but Raz is also a big health nut and watches his macros and stuff so if he's making a meal there's like a 50% chance it's just some kind of nutrient slurry to help him hit his calorie count for the day (a tin of corned beef and a handful of salad leaves counts as a meal, right?). Dogen is a good cook but he can get a bit distracted in the kitchen so he benefits a lot from having a steady sous chef. Lili sucks at cooking (she never really had the opportunity to learn at home), she can make noodles and that's about it

Lili will talk your ear off about how bugs are super important to ecosystems and crucial pollinators and need to be protected now more than ever given the decline of wild habitats, and Raz is like, I appreciate that but you're not gonna make me feel guilty over this mosquito i just smushed. (along those notes, although she gardens she's very anti-pesticide! she uses other methods to control pests, like fostering wild/sacrificial plants that pests would rather eat to keep the slugs off her orchids)

Dogen is a pretty shy guy and he can get real embarrassed in public. just furiously blushing and nodding his head to try and signal that yes, he would love to hold hands, he just gets worked up easily about that kind of thing. Raz has no shame but he is very easy to fluster. Lili has no shame, period.

Lili and Raz both drive, but in their day-to-day Lili usually drives because Raz has the bad habit of thinking speed limits are suggestions for other people and don't apply to secret agents. Dogen can't drive, he never got his license and finds the prospect of sitting behind the wheel of a car way too nerve-wracking to learn.

Lili and Dogen are pretty similar in the amount of human interaction they like, they both have a fairly low social battery and so they really enjoy quality time spent at home together. their ideal dates are chill ones, like going to the aquarium or to a botanical garden - anywhere they can just quietly enjoy each others' company.

as a trio they get into so much trouble. Dogen tries to avoid the trouble as much as possible. trouble arrives regardless

#i've spent most of today playing splatoon 3 but i took a break to do this #because i love them #future superstar agents au #fsau raz #fsau lili #fsau dogen #fsau meta #raz is the kind of guy who will get picky about the precise type of italian hard cheese dogen is putting in a carbonara #and then make himself a peanut butter scrambled egg ketchup sandwich for lunch #i would highly encourage anyone who wants to fill these out to do so btw they're so much fun #ty rem <3 <3 <3 #i say 'headcanons'. it's my AU so i guess these are just full-fledged canons?

[ravioliwings]

salads are about The Toppings

#every time i make a salad (with 500 toppings) i remember one time i went to someone's house for dinner #and they were having salad (cool cool) but apparently these salads were a point of pride 'my family makes really great salads!' #and when i sat down for dinner it was. iceberg lettuce. cucumber. tomato. italian dressing. #that's it. no cheese not even CROUTONS. no dressing options. no fruit. no hard boiled egg. no onion. no crispy onion. #and i had to just sit there like 'yeah this is good :)'

[after-nine-at-the-oasis]

y'all ever get annoyed at like. food snobbery

#like I keep getting these youtube shorts recommended and they're by a lady who moved from the us to italy #and the shorts are fun enough but on one where she made boxed mac and cheese for her italian boyfriend the comments were all like #ugh yeah that stuff is disgusting and awful I always make my pasta by hand it's really not that hard 🙄 #and idk I'm just like #the main consumer of that is probably poorer people #I'll probably still eat it when I live alone because even though I don't love making it it's easier than other things and chronic #illness is hard #and people are tired and busy #and I just like #it kinda hurts #plus like while I will be the first person to say I do NOT love america #you can still make the best of a bad situation #just because I don't love my country doesn't mean my friends suck because they live here or I can't experience love or something #and arguably no mac and cheese is not a culinary masterpiece #like #idk #you don't have to trash something to not like it #I don't like soy sauce #I don't say that the people who eat it just have no clue how to eat something without it or something #idk I'm just tired and everything but I've always hated being told I don't have culture because I'm from the us or I'm white or etc etc #and a lot of that is tied to what I'm inclined to call generational trauma even if they don't directly relate to it because that thing is #something I associate with my culture #I just #okay beans on toast right? that's a british clasic dish isn't it? something I also happen to dislike #how is boxed mac and cheese different besides being more heavily processed (something pretty much everything in the us is) #and also just because it's heavily processed doesn't mean it's awful #some of the recipes in our multi-generational family cookbook are probably super weird jellos and that's okay with me yk? #and besides the culture part going back to my first points sometimes I just want easy food. easy to make easy to enjoy #something I don't feel the need to ~appreciate~ and ~savor~ and take pictures of #I don't need to sacrifice myself for my food to enjoy it. all I need to do is like it

[elizasoulmate]

Bracciole (Flank Steak Rolls) - Cuisine

#Parsley #hard-boiled egg #and Parmesan cheese are rolled into a flank steak and simmered in a tomato sauce for a delicious Italian meal. heat #bracciole #parsley #ravioli #steak

[dostoyevsky-official]

Grandi has dedicated his career to debunking the myths around Italian food; this is the first time he’s spoken to the foreign press. 

Grandi’s speciality is making bold claims about national staples: that most Italians hadn’t heard of pizza until the 1950s, for example, or that carbonara is an American recipe. Many Italian “classics”, from panettone to tiramisu, are relatively recent inventions, he argues. [...] And his mission is to disrupt the foundations on which we Italians have built our famous, and famously inflexible, culinary culture — a food scene where cappuccini must not be had after midday and tagliatelle must have a width of exactly 7mm.

[...] “It’s all about identity,” Grandi tells me between mouthfuls of osso buco bottoncini. He is a devotee of Eric Hobsbawm, the British Marxist historian who wrote about what he called the invention of tradition. “When a community finds itself deprived of its sense of identity, because of whatever historical shock or fracture with its past, it invents traditions to act as founding myths,” Grandi says.

[...] Panettone is a case in point. Before the 20th century, panettone was a thin, hard flatbread filled with a handful of raisins. It was only eaten by the poor and had no links to Christmas. Panettone as we know it today is an industrial invention.

Parmesan, he says, is remarkably ancient, around a millennium old. But before the 1960s, wheels of parmesan cheese weighed only about 10kg (as opposed to the hefty 40kg wheels we know today) and were encased in a thick black crust. Its texture was fatter and softer than it is nowadays. “Some even say that this cheese, as a sign of quality, had to squeeze out a drop of milk when pressed,” Grandi says. “Its exact modern-day match is Wisconsin parmesan.” He believes that early 20th-century Italian immigrants, probably from the Po’ region north of Parma, started producing it in Wisconsin and, unlike the cheesemakers back in Parma, their recipe never evolved. So while Parmigiano in Italy became over the years a fair-crusted, hard cheese produced in giant wheels, Wisconsin parmesan stayed true to the original.

“Italian cuisine really is more American than it is Italian,” Grandi says squarely.

[...] Today, Italian food is as much a leitmotif for rightwing politicians as beautiful young women and football were in the Berlusconi era.

[P]oliticians understand the power of what Grandi terms “gastronationalism”. Who cares if the traditional food culture they promote is partly based on lies, recipes dreamt up by conglomerates or food imported from America? Few things are more reassuring and agreeable than an old lady making tortellini.

It wasn’t always like this. “The grandparents knew it was a lie,” Grandi tells me, finishing the last of his prosecco. “The philologic concern with ingredient provenance is a very recent phenomenon.” Indeed it’s hard to imagine that people who survived the second world war eating chestnuts, as my grandfather did, would be concerned about using pork jowl instead of pork belly in a pasta recipe. Or as Grandi puts it, “Their ‘tradition’ was trying not to starve.”

[...] As Grandi points out, a tradition is nothing but an innovation that was once successful.

Everything I, an Italian, thought I knew about Italian food is wrong

the most hated man in italy is a historian on a mission to prove that most immemorial italian traditions—like many elsehwere—date from 1860-1960

#focaccia is an ancient roman recipe however

[oceancracker]

swedish food isnt even that good

#i am pretty sure the reasons my grandmas cooking SLAPS are 1: her grandma immigrated to the us and 2: she married an italian #the delicious excessiveness of adapted recipes. my grandma makes grilled cheese with cheese as thick as the bread. and witj bacon. #ikea has nothing on her. glaag isnt even good #peppakaka is good pretty much always but the delicate almond stuff is sometimes annoying #you need to fill the dough w brown sugar and bake it until its almost too hard to bite. BUT its a little bit chewy also #i love you granma im so glad youre not swedish like from actual sweden. im so glad you have a new york accent #shouts

[whereonceiwasfire]

If you're game to write a cheese melt (Vlad & Dani father-daughter dynamic) ficlet, I'd love to read one. If not, that's cool :)

*vibrating with excitement* My friend. Your cheese melt art has been living rent free in my head for WEEKS. It's my sincerest pleasure to write a ficlet for this. I hope it's okay that it's an outsider POV, I just had an idea and my brain went brrrrrrr LOL

May I offer you a dysfunctional parent-teacher interview?

Parent-teacher interviews are always a nightmare, but there's one in particular that’s making Amity Middle School’s beloved Ms. Burnell sweat through her shirt. As the time slot nears, her gaze keeps flickering to the clock, her classroom door, back to her nervously interlaced fingers on the desktop.

It’s going to be fine. Perfectly fine.

“This one! Over here! Dad! This is my class!” The excited words, shouted in the syrupy sweet voice of a little girl, sets every nerve on edge, Ms. Burnell’s heart plummeting straight into the pit of her stomach.

Oh lord. Maybe it’s not going to be fine. 

Her student comes bounding into the classroom, eyes bright and excited, oversized blue sweater sleeves slipping over her hands, even as she gestures emphatically for her father to follow. Black hair spills out of her ponytail, whipping across her face as she throws herself into a desk across from Ms. Burnell’s with a bright smile. 

Her father, on the other hand… 

The heel of his expensive Italian loafers strike against the linoleum as the man stops at the threshold of the classroom, cool gaze doing an assessing sweep of the space, expression crinkling in distaste as it does. He doesn’t say a single word, doesn’t make any move to actually step inside the classroom. 

Ms. Burnell is the one who clears her throat, pushing to an awkward stand as she extends a hand out to the man. 

“Hello, Mr. Masters. Thank you for making the time to come discuss your daughter’s education. I know you’re very busy.” 

The man’s eyes slip to her outstretched palm, and for a motifying second, she doesn’t think he’s going to take it. When he finally does, he just gives a brief, cursory shake before swiping his palm off on his suit jacket and striding past her toward his daughter. 

Ms. Burnell’s face is all kinds of warm, chest tight with embarassment as she fumbles back to her desk, trying to wrestle herself back into some kind of composure. Still, she barely looks up as she pulls out a folder with Danielle Masters scrawled across the tab.

“Dad! Dad! That one’s mine! Do you see it? Do you like it?” Danielle calls proudly, tugging on her father’s suit sleeve and pointing toward the paintings that are spread out beneath the windows to dry, paper wavy and crinkled.

“Oh, er. That’s actually a good place for us to start,” Ms. Burnell cuts in apologetically. 

Mr. Masters gaze snaps from where he’d been examining his daughter’s project, over to her, brows dropped low. 

“Why? Is there a problem with my daughter’s work?” The question is sharp, accusatory, and she’s pretty sure her soul shrivels up a little bit at the unguarded disdain in the man’s eyes.

Swallowing hard, sweat beading against the back of her neck, Ms. Burnell resists the urge to immediately take it back. Surely he can see the problem with the piece—isn’t going to make her say it? 

It's too scary.

When his challenging gaze doesn’t waver, she forces the words out. 

“Uhm. Well. It’s just. Not quite. Appropriate for a sixth grade class?” It pitches up into a question as she gestures vaguely toward Dani’s painting. 

It’s a bit sloppy, the layers of paint caked upon each other, the lines hasty and uneven, but the scene itself is clear enough—a little, smiling, white-haired girl in the shadow of some kind of hulking creature, its skin blue, eyes red, sharp fangs bared as its cape flares out to take up the rest of the page. 

Ms. Burnell almost set up an appointment for Danielle with the school counselor when she saw it, wondering if Dani felt like she was the little girl, trapped amongst nightmares and “monsters.” She decided against it for the time being, until she could speak with the girl’s father, but that’s proving rather unhelpful so far if the contemptuous way the man is looking at her is any indication.

“Did Danielle complete the assignment?” he asks finally. 

“Uhm. Yes.” 

“And adhere to the grading criteria?” 

“Sh-she did,” Ms. Burnell answers reluctantly.

“Then I don’t see the problem,” he answers, finality in the words as his gaze turns to his daughter. He takes a much softer tone with her, brushing the disorderly strands of hair off her face, an absent domesticity in the way he straightens the ponytail gone lopsided. “I think you did a lovely job, dear.” 

“Thank you! I used Alizarin Crimson,” she answers proudly, hair flopping right back into her eyes.

“Excellent choice.” 

“Uhm. Well, there’s also the matter of Danielle’s conduct,” Ms. Burnell cuts in.    

The man lets out an irritated sigh, arms crossing over his chest as he leans back against one of the desks, one ankle crossed over the other, unimpressed gaze finding Ms. Burnell once more. 

“What?” he says, like it’s an inconvenience.

She swallows hard. “She’s been…uhm. Not getting along with some of the other girls.” 

“That is so unfair, Mackenzie started it!” Danielle shouts abruptly, popping up to her knees on her chair, palms slapping down against the desktop. 

“Well that’s not what Mack—” 

The girl keeps going, cutting Ms. Burnell off. 

“She said the only reason Eli agreed to play with me at recess was because Joshua dared him too, and I said nuh unh and she said yuh hunh, and I asked how she knew that, and she couldn’t even prove it, it was so obvious she was making it up!” 

“Mackenzie told me that you said some pretty unkind words to her, Danielle.” 

“Barely! I just said it was a bad look for her to be so jealous of me and just because she looks like she fished her outfit from the same trash bin she got her personality from isn’t any reason to be a jerk.”

Her father’s expression twists into a sharp smirk, amusement lighting his blue eyes, and Ms. Burnell thinks she’s starting to get a better sense of why Danielle is proving to be one of the most challenging students in her class this year. 

“We treat people with kindness and respect in this classroom, Dani. Do you think what you said to Mackenzie was kind and respectful?” 

“Well…” Dani’s gaze drops, expression pinching in thought, and Ms. Burnell thinks she might actually be getting through to her.

“It doesn’t sound as though this other girl was treating Danielle with kindness and respect,” Mr. Masters answers, the words coming out with a mocking turn, like he finds the concepts incidental at best.

“That’s true. She did start it,” Dani reasserts, turning her gaze up to her dad.  

“I’ve spoken to Mackenzie about her part in everything,” Ms. Burnell answers tightly. “But we’re here to talk about Danielle’s conduct. That’s not the only incident of its kind that’s occurred this year and—” 

“You know, it sounds to me as though Danielle’s doing just fine,” Mr. Masters says, pushing up to a proper stand, tugging the bottom of his sleeves and smoothing the dark, wrinkleless fabric.

“But—” 

“Did she make this girl cry?” 

“Well. No, but—” 

“And how are my daughter’s academics?” he asks, gaze fixed on hers, sending a chill creeping down her spine. 

“Fine, but—” 

“Has she gotten into a physical altercation with anyone?” 

“Not exactly, but—” 

“Started any fires?” he asks, sarcasm and derision dripping from the words. 

“No, she hasn’t started any fires.” 

“Then I believe this meeting is finished. Thank you for your time, Ms…”

“Burnell,” she answers weakly.

“Thank you for your time, Ms. Burnell. Danielle, are you ready to go?”

“Yup!” She pops up to an enthusiastic stand, rushing over to the windows to snatch up her painting, twisting it toward Ms. Burnell. “Can I take this home?”

She gives a heavy sigh, massaging her temples with her fingertips. “Sure, Dani. That's fine.” 

“Thanks, Ms. B!” As the girl traipses after her dad, a bounce in her step, horrifying painting swinging at her side, Ms. Burnell can hear the girl still chattering away, even as they pass out of her classroom, voices growing distant. “Do you think I should have made Mackenzie cry?” she asks.

Ms. Burnell is glad she can’t hear the man’s response—she doesn’t even want to know his answer.

#dp ficlet #danny phantom ficlet #cheese melt #danielle phantom #vlad masters #outsider POV #thanks for the ask! #liliande-comics

[harry-on-broadway]

Italian Sun

A/N: Felt inspired after yesterday’s pictures so here’s some unedited rambling. Enjoy!

***

It had only been a week, but you were already grappling with your new reality.

The reality of Harry being at home, at last.

Home, for now, was the Italian villa you all often decamped to when you had a few weeks off. He’d been making plans for the end of tour since the holidays and while specifics had changed, one thing had remained consistent: he wanted to spend time in Italy, relaxing and catching up with all of his family and friends he’d neglected for the past two years.

“Neglected? Don’t you think that’s a little dramatic?” you teased when he first brought up the idea. “We’re literally driving home from your mother’s house.”

“You know what I mean,” he’d said, his face scrunching the way it did when he felt like his words were being misconstrued. “I’m just never around and when I am I feel like I’m so behind. Like…like I’m watching the season finale of a show I’ve never seen before. Everything’s different when I come back.”

“I’m not.”

“That’s what you think.”

“Oh?”

“It’s the little things. You cut your hair. You found a new coffee you like. You started listening to a new podcast. And I’ve missed it all.”

When he put it that way, your heart broke. He rarely complained, knowing that the life he was living was envied by many. But you felt for him, hearing how hard this was on him. “Well, start putting together a guest list. I guess we’re all going to Italy in July.”

Which is how you found yourself rooming with Harry’s closest friends and family in the week following the final show of Love on Tour, sharing meals, memories, and adventures with everyone. The extra glow coming off of Harry didn’t go unnoticed by you and you could feel happiness and contentment radiating off of him when he snuggled in close to you each night.

Today was the last day that everyone would be all together before the group started to head out, leaving you and Harry alone. He’d wanted the final day to be the best yet and had planned an itinerary filled with boating and sunbathing and, according to him, the best Italian dinner yet.

You had to give him credit. It was the best day yet. Games were played, naps were taken, and the picnic basket of cheeses, breads, and meats that Harry himself had packed was delicious. But the day also came with an added perk for you.

While almost everyone had donned swimwear for the occasion, displaying all sorts of skin, Harry took it to another level. His shirt was hanging precariously on his body, a single button keeping it from being blown away, and his swim trunks had been rolled up and pulled low on his hips (to avoid tan lines, he explained).

And the hat.

The fucking hat. A bright pink bucket cap, with the word ‘Daddy’ written across the front, that someone had thrown onstage in Australia. He’d said he picked it up as a joke, but the fact that he’d held onto it across countries and time zones, made you think otherwise. You saw how he carried himself with an extra hint of swagger when he wore it, and you hated to admit it, but something stirred inside of you when you caught a glance of him, hat and all, driving the boat with all of the ease of a seasoned pro. You prayed no one could tell how that scene affected you.

Now, with dinner on the horizon, you were trying to put those steamy thoughts out of your head and focus on what you should wear. You’d narrowed it down to two brightly colored dresses, when you felt two hands cover your eyes.

“Guess who?”

“Hmmmmm,” you pondered. “Could it be my boyfriend? You know, the guy who organized this magnificent trip after breaking records worldwide for the past couple of years?”

“He sounds like a catch.”

“He’s not that bad. He’s easy on the eyes.”

“Easy on the eyes, huh?” Harry moved his hands down to your hips and spun you around so you were facing him.

“Yeah, and he looks even better when he’s half-naked, driving a boat.”

“Mmmm.” Harry’s hands moved lower so that they were resting on the cleft of your ass. “Must have been pretty hot.”

“Oh, yeah, super sexy. I wish I could have jumped him right there. Especially in that hat.”

“Wait, what,” Harry laughed, breaking whatever character he’d been playing. “Are you serious?”

You shrugged. “What can I say, there’s something about that whole scene that really turned me on. And, sex on a boat sounds kind of fun. Shame we couldn’t try that out.” Harry swallowed, his throat bobbing as he processed what you said. “Harry?” you asked after a moment. “Are you still with me?”

“Yeah, I’m just trying to think why the fuck I thought it would be a good idea to invite everyone on this trip. I could’ve been having sex on a boat.”

“It’s not a boat but we can still have some fun,” you whispered, fingers delicately trailing down the exposed skin of his chest.

“Yeah?”

You nodded and Harry darted across the room to shut the door to your suite, trying to tear his shirt off at the same time. “Slow down, baby,” you said. “We’ve got time.”

Harry took a deep breath, calming himself as he nodded and opened his arms for you. His hands skated over your body, much of your skin already exposed thanks to your swimsuit, before they landed on your jaw, tipping your head back to bring your lips to his.

You felt heat course through your body at his slightest touch and were amazed that he was still able to elicit this reaction from you. You felt your nipples stiffen through the flimsy material of your swimsuit when Harry’s already sizable erection brushed against your thigh and you couldn’t stop thinking about feeling him inside of you.

“Bed, now,” Harry panted when he broke away from the kiss, and you backed up until you could feel the mattress behind your knees.

You fell backwards, bouncing slightly when you landed, and when you raised yourself up onto your elbows to find Harry, he had already dropped to the ground, his hands nimbly shimmying your swim bottoms down your legs. The garment discarded somewhere in the room, you felt Harry’s lips on your ankle, then up your calf, then at the inside of your knee. You knew what this was building too, but that didn’t stop you from letting out a gasp of surprise when his lips finally found your center.

“Oh fuck,” you moaned, voice barely above a whisper for fear of alerting the rest of your party to what you were up to. You threw your head to the side, trying to muffle the sound of your pleasure with the pillow.

Theoretically, the two of you were due downstairs for dinner in roughly a half hour, but Harry showed no urgency as he slowly licked at your core, speeding up, then slowing down right as you were about to topple over the edge. It was hard to focus on anything but the feel of him between your legs. You reached down, hand moving blindly until your hands found purchase in his hair. The sensation of his soft curls between your fingers grounded you as you bucked up against his lips, wanting even more than he was already giving you.

“Is this good?” he asked.

All you could manage was a breathless moan as his fingers slid inside, easily undoing you. You opened your eyes and tried to catch your breath as Harry appeared over top of you licking his fingers clean with a satisfying pop. “That really turns me on,” you finally wheezed out.

“What? That?”

“No, the fact that you remember what works for me. It’s just something about the way you care for me. You always act like you don’t remember anything and you have no clue what’s happening, but that’s not true H. You always remember what matters.”

You could see something burning in Harry’s eyes as you said that, not quite desire, but something close. “I’m always going to care about you,” he said, the words laced with emotion. “Nothing is ever going to change that.”

“Show me,” you said.

He rolled on top of you in one easy motion, and you opened your legs, giving him space to settle in. He kissed you, furiously, but nowhere near enough. You needed to feel him all over you, every inch. Skin on skin, nothing between you.

“What the hell are these shorts still doing on you?” you whined, fingers digging into the fabric of his tiny trunks.

“I could say the same about this,” he all but grunted, struggling to undo the tie of your bathing suit top.

Free of obstructions, you all were able to lay together and take in the moment. You weren’t surprised when Harry buried his nose in the crook of your neck, inhaling and savoring the moment. It was something he’d made a habit of doing in recent months, after noticing that you’d changed body wash in his absence. He was upset at first, saddened by yet another detail he’d missed, but after that, he’d started to take more time to observe and remember every little thing about you.

After a few seconds, you felt his lips on your neck as he kissed his way to your mouth, and you could feel him smile into the kiss.

“Got time for one more?” he asked with a cheeky grin.

“Why stop there?”

“I think you might be overestimating my abilities, love.”

You pressed a kiss of your own to the spot right under his ear that you knew got him going. “You’ve never let me down, H.”

Without warning, he was inside you. He often paused upon entering you, giving you a moment to adjust and a moment for him to center himself. But today, he did no such thing, rocking back and forth in a steady rhythm. You made no effort to stop him either, tilting your hips up and pressing your heels into the small of his back to drive him further inside. The room was nearly silent, just the sound of your bodies moving in time broken by occasional panting, or the soft moans Harry stifled against your chest.

You glanced at him as he continued to drive into you. His eyes were shut tight and his forehead was wrinkled in concentration. It was the look he often wore when he was focused on not coming undone prematurely. Always the gentleman, he made every effort to ensure you were taken care of before he handled his own needs, but the rare occasions when he fell apart first drove you wild.

There was something so attractive about watching a man who was always in control, always looking out for others, come undone, something you’d once told him, earning an eye roll. You could tell he was nearing the edge as his thrusts became more frenzied and less rhythmic, while the wrinkles in his brow deepened.

You brought your lips to the shell of his ear, nipping at the skin, before soothing the bite with a kiss. “Let go,” you whispered in his ear. “For me.” You could feel his hesitation, so you played the ace you had been holding this whole time.

“Daddy.”

His whole body shuddered as he emptied inside of you, your orgasm following close behind. He collapsed, his entire body weight resting on top of you.

“Give me a sec,” he said. “I just—fuck.”

You chuckled lightly. “That good, baby?”

Harry shook his head in disbelief, as he lifted off the bed and padded to the bathroom, returning with a damp cloth. “Fucking amazing,” he muttered, as he moved to help you clean up. “Didn’t know that was uh, something you were into. You know, the daddy thing,” he added, trying to sound casual.

“Can’t say I am, but something about that hat just really got to me. Maybe something to think about in the future though?”

“For sure,” Harry said. “I mean, I’ve scheduled plenty of sex for us as part of this break.”

“So when do you leave again?” you teased.

Harry pinched your thigh lightly. “Not soon enough apparently.”

You leaned forward, grabbing him for a kiss. “It’s always too soon. But I’m happy to have you while I can.” You looked at the clock on the bedside table. “And I think all of your friends want to see you too, which means, we have to get ready. Now.”

“I’ll start the shower.”

“Harry!”

“What? It’s a time saver and a water saver.”

You rolled your eyes. “Remember, your friends will let us have it if we’re late.”

“Yeah, yeah. They’re getting a free vacation so they’ll keep quiet if they know what’s best for them.”

“Oooh, tough guy.” You grabbed your towel and headed to the bathroom, hearing Harry say something behind you. “What did you say?” you asked, turning around to find him standing there holding his hat from earlier in the day.

“I said I have to remember to send a thank you note,” he added quietly.

“To who?”

“Whoever threw that fucking hat on the stage. Never imagined it would get me laid.”

#harry styles fanfic #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles fan fiction #harry styles fan fic #harry styles fic #harry styles one shot #harry styles writing #harry styles fluff #harry styles smut

[shapelytimber]

It's *definitely* not a date

[COMMISSIONS] - [PRINT] (Promo code UJABTZ still available until 11/19)

I love these two glhohkgkgjgk the silly 60s spies are cute ok ;; (and there is something about an american man and a russian man romancing each other during the cold war-)

Process (+ a long ass rant about what they are eating (with pics)) below vvv

For this one I wanted to challenge myself by drawing something that's really challenging for me : food ! It's really hard for me to make it look appetizing- I don't really like eating, and I don't usually bother to cook (why cook when I could just grab a baguette, a piece of cheese that could kill an american on sight, and combine the two to create easely one of the top 5 dish france has to offer ?), so I really struggle with making it look good lgkglflfofi but I'm very happy with how it turned out !!!

Welcome to my long ass rent on a very specific type of french food :

So the plan for this was always to have them eat at a french restaurant, but I could not resist doing something really personal and extremely specific to my hometown- so they are eating in Nice ! And Nissart cuisine is very different from the rest of France. Why ? Quick history (I swear this has something to do with food), Nice was a very late addition to France, only becoming french in 1860, before that point it was part of the kingdom of Sardinia (so not Italian, but pretty close). It mostly translate to it having it's own dead language "Niçois" (a derivation of "Provençal", the old french language of the south), it's own anthem "Nissa la bella" and a very distinct cuisine.

So what are they eating ? First, you'll notice they have a little plate of Pissaladière ! It's flatbread with caramelized onions, anchovy (this is a crucial part of the dish, if you exclude them your just eating onion pie (/neg)), and black olive (btw I checked the english wikipedia page for pissaladière- it's so shit omg nooo)

It's commonly free in restaurants, and served while you wait for your order (not all restaurants do that, but it's always so nice when they do fkfjkf). It's a pain in the ass to make, and all the ones you buy in boulangeries or stores are dogshit-

Ok for the actual dishes (It was hard to find something that would go well with red wine kgkgfjlfk because that means no fish-) ! Napoleon is eating roasted rabbit a la Niçoise ! The rabbit is flavored with olive oil, onions, garlic, lard and white wine (quick note, nearly everything we cook in Nice is in olive oil, not a big fan of butter). It's served with cooked tomatoes, rosemary, potatoes and black olive.

And Illya is eating two distinct things, 1) zucchini flower fritters ('beignets de fleurs de courgette' in french) ! More specifically, the flatter version (it taste more like the flower. The more crispy version tastes more like just oil (in my opinion)).

And 2) stuffed vegetable a la niçoise ('farcis niçois' in french) ! Just empty a tomato/zucchini/eggplant/bell pepper, stuff it with a mixture of meat, garlic, thyme, parsley and parmesan, then put bread crumbs on top.

PS : just wanted to share a quote from my evil advisor (@quijicroix) : "I'm glad the waiter brought their F cups" (this is my best attempt to translate : "damn le serveur de genre indéterminé qui ramene les miches !")

#I'm in the mood to do line art rn and I'm really happy with the progress I make when it comes to coloring it :) #anyway the 60s spies got me hfihfhgf I'm now doing fanart of niche little guys #napoleon solo #illya kuryakin #napollya #the man from uncle #the man from uncle tv #tmfu #tmfu tv #tmfu fanart #napoleon solo fanart #illya kuryakin fanart #art #my art #digital art #illustration #fanart #print #artist on tumblr #cw alcohol #artwork

[oneshotnewbie]

Carina is afraid of Reader getting hurt (she is a police officer) and maybe, just maybe, they get hurt? You don't have to if you don't want to!!

Authors note: This story has been sitting in my finished documents for about two years haha. So maybe it's not all that well written

ᕚ---ᕘ

Working undercover was exhausting, if not draining. You were aware of it both physically and mentally, yet you accepted the job. Accepted it in hope that, like every order, it would pass quickly. You had been investigating undercover in a drug gang for several weeks now. Barely exchanged a word with your wife for endless days to protect her from the cunning mastermind of the gang. Sporadically, there was a short on-minute-conversation at a phone booth here and there, but it was not enough. On both sides.

Carina was worried sick; she only got fleeting answers from your lieutenant on how you were doing. She was so concerned for your life that the brunette even fell ill and had to be hospitalized. When you found out, you wanted to break your cover and risk your life just so you could see her. But she managed to stop you, promising she would take care of herself until you were back home.

You missed everything about the cozy apartment you shared with her. The scent, your bed. Even the smell of cheese that had spread throughout the kitchen. But mostly the closeness of your girlfriend and the warmth that reached you every time you had a hard day at work. All of that you had to exchange for a cold, sparsely furnished one-room apartment outside of the city.

With each passing day it became harder to maintain the disguise. Everything got on your last nerves and ripped you apart. On the very first day, you wished that you could leave work and go back to your family but it had taken you a long time to earn the trust of the drug lord, Joaquín González, before he gave you permission to do big jobs. You were basically his second hand and knew everything about his business.

Even so, you still had to wait to snag all of his followers. At least until this evening where the cruical deal would go through. If everything went smoothly, you could go back to your old life tomorrow. Back to your family. The day passed faster than you could have imagined and it slowly started to get dark. The pink tone of the setting sun gave you a feeling of security and freedom- a feeling you had not had in a long time and made you believe that everything would turn out the way you wished for.

Slowly, you sat down on the chair you had prepared and waited out the last hours before your assignment while you looked through the small window. The landscape was swallowed up in a deep darkness, so completely dark that you felt the cold and hatefulness filling up your heart. Without the feeling, you could not think straight in the violent drug clan. This feeling had changed you, you felt it deep inside. That freezing cold surrounded you and gave you the courage to do any assignment without hesitation so you would not experience pain. But you still hoped to shed that mask once you were safe in the arms of your beloved Italian.

The mask had so often saved you from a mental collapse on missions, that you might not want to take it off as protection for further police operations and it shocked you deeply, that you even believed in wanting to keep it. After each undercover assignment, Carina was always able to give you the feeling of security, and the conscience that everything would be fine again. But you were not sure if she could still save you from what ate away your soul this time.

Of course you knew that she would do everything in her power to get your old self back- Carina had managed it all the time. The brunette would take care of you, spoil you like your life was more important than hers. This time was different. You had been separated from your old life for far too long to make up for with a few days of utmost nurturing.

A small tear, which you quickly wiped away, rolled down your face. You were not allowed to cry, you had to blame yourself for your fate and now you had to face the consequences.

ᕚ---ᕘ

"Where is she? Where is Y/n?" yelled a rough and worried voice at a nurse of the emergency room and you could immediately assign it to Carina. Frantically, she made her way to search between the occupied beds for the woman for whom she was the emergency contacts. „Deluca, calm down. She is here, I will lead you to her"

To her ears, the spoken sentence of Owen Hunt sounded like a war. Knowing the seriousness of the situation, she felt nothing but pure fear. Worries enveloped the woman and she could not imagine finding you badly injured somewhere in the emergency room and realizing that you were hovering between life and death.

The brunette swallowed hard. She missed you so much and just wanted to back healthily. Quietly, she trotted behind the head of trauma surgery, very carefully and slowly, until she came to a stop in front of a curtained bed. There, she already heard your pain-distorted grumbling while stilling in her movement.

Carina had never forgotten how your voice sounded, longed for it every single minute of the day. And now, hearing it without the hum of the phones terminating line, her heart was racing like the first time she had met you. She was only centimeters away from you, as close as she had not been for a long time. "It hurts like hell!"

"I wanted to give you a pain hemmer but you refused," she heard the soft chuckle of Miranda Bailey and a stone rolled from her heavy heart. You were not badly injured, at least not bad enough to be concerned for your life. "Now live with it"

As the brunette doctor moved the curtain with a firm grip to gain access to you, she looked down at you with glassy eyes. Your clothes and face were spattered with dirt and blood, your jeans cut down on one leg to the thigh. Her eyes widened to the bulled hole in your femur, blood still dripping slightly through the stitches already in place.

"Bella, what happened? Stai bene?" (Are you alright?) her voice trembled and was overwhelmed by choked tears. She sneaked through the narrow space between bed and curtain and knelt down next to it. Her warm hand softly cupped your cold one, that was gripping the bed sheets, and squeezed it tightly.

"The deal was overrun by my colleagues. The shooting was in full swing and some were trying to escape. I wanted to help another police officer and I caught a ricochet myself. It is half as bad, it was a straight through shot"

Disorted in pain, your body tensed up briefly before relaxing shortly after; abruptly pinching the hand of your wife before your eyes turned back to her. Deeply, her fawn eyes stared at you, some pitiful tears welling up from them before they closed. "For a brief moment I thought I lost you, mi amor"

Thinking lines appeared on her face and you swallowed impercepitibly. You knew her mind was working through every negative scenario she had ever saw in movies. A faint smile appeared on your face and you broke away from her before you put your hand under her chin and tenderly pulled her to you. "Carina, look at me"

The addressed opened her eyes slightly, pure was immediately recognizable. A tear rolled down the Italian´s face and she grabbed your midsection to cross the last empty space between you. "You did not lost me. I am still here"

Gentle kisses spread across her ruddy cheeks, forehead and nose; trying to catch her bitter tears. You hated when she cried. But you hated yourself even more for causing those sadness upon her. Such a great woman like Carina did not deserve to be in a constant state of fear and you were more than sorry. It broke your heart and shattered it into pieces. 

"You won't do me another mission like this. Mai più, capito?" (Never again, understand?) she said insistently. Her arms broke free from you and crossed over her crumpled pink scrubs, expertly starting to pout. "Se lo fai di nuovo, ti uccido io stesso" (If you do it again, I'll kill you personally)

That it was your last police operations for the time being, which you would do in the next few weeks, was more than clear to you. But you did not care. The most important thing you had to worry about now was your wife, whom you had neglected for weeks, and your health.

#station 19 #station 19 fanfiction #station 19 fanfic #station 19 oneshot #station 19 imagines #station 19 imagine #station 19 x reader #station 19 x you #station 19 x female reader #station 19 abc #carina deluca #carina deluca fanfiction #carina deluca fanfic #carina deluca oneshot #carina deluca imagine #carina deluca imagines #carina deluca x reader #carina deluca x you #carina deluca x female reader #fanfiction #fanfic #oneshot #imagines #imagine #writeblr #writing community #writer stuff #writers on tumblr

[petermorwood]

Just out of the oven - a new recipe for a herb loaf which smells great, but is too hot to taste just yet.

Patience, patience... :->

The original recipe comes from one of @dduane‘s collection of comb-bound  community cookbooks, being modified for use in Food & Cooking of the Middle Kingdoms.

This is the first time making it, and - Middle Kingdoms again - there are already a few substitutions to move further away from the Italian-influenced original. I’m sure there’ll be other changes before it finally goes onto the website, so treat the following recipe as a First Draft...

Ingredients:

1 cup warm water (110 degrees F/45 degrees C)

1 Tbsp white sugar

1 (1/4 ounce) package active dry yeast

3 cups bread flour

1/4 cup grated hard cheese (DD used Parmesan, though mature Cheddar or white Stilton would also work)

2 Tbsps oil (DD used pumpkin seed oil) ETA: thanks to me putting it away and not saying where, she couldn’t find it and used olive oil for this loaf

1 tsp salt

1/2 Tbsp each dried herbes de provence, thyme, chilli flakes, savory, tarragon

1/2 tsp garlic powder

1/2 tsp onion powder

Method:

Mix the warm water, sugar, and yeast together in a large bowl and wait until the mixture is foamy, about 5 minutes.

Stir 1 cup flour, all the cheese, oil, salt, herbs, garlic and onion powders into the yeast mixture, then gradually mix in the remaining flour until incorporated; the dough will be stiff.

Knead the dough on a lightly floured surface until smooth and silky, which should take 5 to 10 minutes (DD used a Kenwood stand mixer with dough hook, and kneading took 7 minutes at slow speed).

Place the dough into an oiled bowl and turn until the entire surface is coated, then cover with a damp dish towel and let it rise until doubled in volume, about 1 hour.

Punch the dough down to release excess air; shape into a loaf and place into a greased 5- x 9-inch loaf pan (DD rolled the dough into a sausage shape and put it on a baking sheet) then let it rise until doubled in volume, about 30 minutes.

Preheat the oven to 350 degrees F (175 degrees C).

Beat an egg and brush this wash onto the loaf, sprinkle on some herbs and Maldon salt, slash 3 or 4 times with a sharp knife or breadmaker’s lame and transfer at once to the oven.

Bake for 45-50 minutes until golden brown.

When done, remove from the pan or baking sheet and let cool on a wire rack for at least 15 minutes before slicing. (We’ve put ours in a bread bag and are leaving it overnight to let the crust soften a little; right now it’s so hard and brittle that slicing will cause a messy blizzard of fragments.)

#food and drink #breadmaking #herb loaf #food and cooking of the middle kingdoms

[gemsofgreece]

Only for cheese lovers!

Super random fun fact:

You probably know feta cheese. When it comes to Greece it's always feta this, feta that. The truth however is that there are many more types of Greek cheese and many are delicious! In fact, there are more than 60 different types of Greek cheese recorded.

Below is a list with some of the famous ones (and my faves). If you love cheese, check it out!

Feta

Okay, yeah, let's get the celebrity out of the way fast. Feta is a sheep and goat's milk brined white cheese. It accompanies perfectly salads (especially tomatoes and olives) and it makes a great filling for filo pies. It is often served dressed in oregano and olive oil. Feta has a slightly spicy and certainly distinctly salty flavour - if you buy or order feta abroad and it is not pretty salty with a hint of spice, then you have likely been played and given cheaper white plain cheese.

Anthótyros

This is a cheese already produced in antiquity. Anthotyros is a soft cheese made with milk and whey from sheep or goats, sometimes in combination. It has a mild but very distinct taste and it's low in fats, so it is commonly eaten by people on a diet. It's eaten with honey and nuts, on salads or on pasta.

Galotyri

Literally meaning "milk cheese", Galotyri is produced by fatty sheep milk, 4-5 months after the animal has given birth, which is usually in the summer. It is creamy and milky and has a very fresh, cool taste that makes it ideal for summer meals.

Graviera of Naxos

The best cheese in the universe, also known as my favourite cheese, Graviera of Naxos is a PDO hard yellow cheese made of cow milk (with some addition of sheep and goat milk). It has somewhere between a salty and an umami taste and it is enjoyed with wine. It also makes a fantastic filling for fylo pies. If you see in a pie shop a pie with "Graviera Naxou" in, it's a no brainer. Try it! I have yet to eat an underwhelming one!

(Graviera is also produced in Crete island and this version is very famous as well, but my personal preference is the one from Naxos island. )

Kalathaki of Limnos

Another protected one, Kalathaki Limnou is a white brined cheese dried in small baskets, from which it gets its name (kalathaki = small basket). It is similar to feta, but less sour.

Kasseri

Kasseri is a hard pale yellow cheese made from pasteurised or unpasteurised sheep milk and at most 20% goat's milk. Kasseri is a protected designation of origin, according to which the cheese must be made in the Greek provinces of Thessaly, Macedonia, Lesvos island, or Xanthi, however similar types of cheese are produced in the Balkans, Romania and Turkey. It is ideal for sandwiches and toasts, it has a buttery and salty taste and it goes well with wines.

Katiki Domokú

Katiki Domokú is produced in Domokós, in the region of Phthiotis. It is a soft white cheese with low fat content. It is made from pasteurised milk that curdles without rennet and it is drained in bags made of cloth. It can be served in toast or dakos. It can be added in salad as an ingredient and it fills pies.

Kefalotyri

Already popular in Byzantine times, Kefalotyri is a very hard cheese that can range from yellowish to whitish and is made of sheep or goat's milk. Kefalotyri can be consumed as is, fried in olive oil for a dish called saganaki, or added to foods such as pasta dishes, meat, or cooked vegetables, and is especially suited for grating. It is in fact our first choice to be grated on top of dishes, an equivalent of parmesan for the Italians, but harder.

Fried Kefalotyri with shrimps

Kefalograviera

A PDO cheese as well, the off-white Kefalograviera is in between the worlds of graviera and kefalotyri. It is produced and consumed in similar ways. It is saltier than a typical graviera and a little softer than a typical kefalotyri. It accompanies white wines very well.

Kopanistí

Kopanisti is a salty, spicy cheese, with protected designation of origin (PDO) produced mostly in Mykonos island for more than 300 years. It owes its special peppery and spicy taste to rapid and extensive lipolysis and proteolysis caused by abundant microbial growth encouraged by repeated kneadings performed during the ripening process. This is why it is called kopanisti, which means "beaten". The most popular way of serving is in a dish called "mostra" which contains dry bread with kopanisti cheese, chopped tomatoes and olive oil.

Manuri

Manuri is an ancient Greek PDO semi-soft, fresh white mixed milk-whey cheese made from goat or sheep milk. It is produced primarily in Thessaly, Macedonia and Crete island. It has a sweet and mild taste and is used in appetizers, salads, desserts and savoury meals. It is considered a gourmet choice.

Green salad with fruits, cranberries and manuri

Metsovone

Produced in the mountainous town of Métsovo, Metsovone is a PDO semi-hard, smoked cheese made of cow's milk. It accompanies white wines and is used in salads and appetizers.

Myzithra and Xynomyzithra

Myzithra  is a Greek whey cheese or mixed milk-whey cheese from sheep or goats, or both. It is primarily produced on the island of Crete but is widespread throughout Greece. The cheese is soft, snow-white, creamy, and moist. Since no salt is added to mizithra it has an almost sweet and milky taste. It is eaten as dessert with honey or as an appetizer. It is used as a table cheese, as well as in salads, pastries and in baking, notably in little cheese pies (handful size) and Sfakiani pita (pie from the Sfakiá region).

Myzithra that is salted and aged becomes dryer, denser, saltier and more sour (xyní). This version, xynomyzithra ('sour myzithra') is often grated. Xynomyzithra is considered the grating cheese par excellence of Greek cuisine, and is especially suited for sprinkling over hot pasta. (It is less common than Kefalotyri but more gourmet, in short.)

Xynótyro

Xynotyro is an unpasteurized whey cheese made from sheep's or goat's milk, with a hard and flaky consistency, a pungent aroma and a yogurt-like sweet and sour taste. "Xynotyro" means "sour cheese" in Greek. Xynotyro can be consumed either as fresh cheese or after being ripened with the use of naturally dominating microflora during a 3-month maturing period. The Lactobacillus strains in Xynotyro have antibacterial effects that kill Salmonella pathogens, a finding that is of special interest for producers of health-giving cheeses according to researchers at the French Institut National de la Santé et de la Recherche Médicale.

San Michele

San Mihali in Greek, it is a traditional salty and spicy PDO cheese, that is one of the most expensive in the country. It is produced exclusively in Syros island. It is made of cow's milk.

Sfela

Sfela is a PDO semi-hard white brined cheese with a spicy, salty and a little sour taste. Its production is founded on old tradition and this cheese is permitted to be produced only in the south of the Peloponnese, in the regions of Messenia and Laconia - both the animals and the production facilities have to be there. Sfela is served with bread, Maniot lalangia (a type of local pasta), accompanies meals and is used as filling in pies.

Talagani

A cheese that took its name from the word for the shepherd's cape in the Messenian dialect, talagani is a white sheep-goat milk cheese which is especially delicious when grilled, as it does not melt and it becomes chewy. It is consumed as an appetizer or in salads and is great when accompanied with honey or marmelades.

BONUS: Hallumi

Hallumi is the famous PDO cheese of the Republic of Cyprus. It is made from a mixture of goat's and sheep's milk, and sometimes also cow's milk. Its texture is described as squeaky. It has a high melting point and so can easily be fried or grilled, a property that makes it a popular meat substitute. Halloumi is popular throughout the Eastern Mediterranean.

Honourable mentions:

Armogalo

Arseniko of Naxos

Thermiotiko or Kythnios tyros

Kariki

Cretan cheese

Ladotyri of Mytilene

Mastello of Chios

Batzos

Formaella

Gidotyri of Crete

Smoked kaniaki

Meriareno of Kasos

Xygalo

Ayotyri

and many more!

#greece #cuisine #food #cheese #dairy #greek food #greek cuisine #mediterranean cuisine #cheese lover #tw long #long post #tw long post #Youtube

[therealdeathoracle]

I have a bunch of quotes from my old coworkers at my last job so I made incorrect quotes from the bsd characters. If this one is liked I can make another with quotes from my family I also have

Ranpo: “Jesus Christ it’s Pretzel Borne.”

——————————————————————————

Kenji: *accidentally kicks the water fountain*

Atsushi: *holds out hand* “Stop it.”

——————————————————————————

Kunikida: “Don’t worry, we made it, Dazai’s gone.”

——————————————————————————

Dazai: “Olaf doesn’t turn me on, but Sven does.”

——————————————————————————

Akutagawa: *in the distance and very unenthusiastically* “Run Forest run.”

——————————————————————————

Nikolai: *in a bad Russian accent* “OH MY GOATS! FYODOR, BRING IN THE AR15!″

——————————————————————————

Atsushi: *playing with a cup of straws*

Kyouka: *takes the cup away to put more straws in it*

Atsushi: *trying to grab the cup* “Why?!”

Kyouka: *hands the cup back*

Atsushi: *knocks cup over and throws straws everywhere* “Am cat.” *runs away*

——————————————————————————

(All over a radio)

Fukuzawa: *talking loudly*

Ranpo: *cringes really hard*

Fukuzawa: “Mind your business Ranpo.”

Ranpo: “You’re making my ears bleed, Fukuzawa.”

Fukuzawa: *quieter* “Oh, really?”

Ranpo: “Yeah, it’s fine though.”

Fukuzawa: *whispering* “Oh you sweet child, I am so sorry.”

——————————————————————————

Ranpo, Kenji and Dazai: *chanting cheese*

——————————————————————————

Teruko: “Jouno was in a good mood today.”

Tachihara: “Oh? Something must’ve happened, did Tecchou die?”

——————————————————————————

Dazai and Ranpo: *aggressively singing Africa*

Atsushi: *starts playing Africa on his phone*

——————————————————————————

Chuuya: “Hi, would you mind signing your rights away real quick?”

——————————————————————————

Tecchou: *whispering* “Jouno”

Jouno: *screaming from the other side of the building* “WHAT THE FUCK DO YOU WANT NOW TECCHOU?”

——————————————————————————

Ranpo: “DAD NO!” *oven starts screaming*

——————————————————————————

Kunikida: “The world is gonna end in 3 months, but you don’t care! You don’t care about inflation!”

——————————————————————————

Yosano to Dazai: “If you fall on the box cutter and bleed out and die then can we use you as a promotion for Suicide Squad?”

——————————————————————————

Dazai: “What’s the best way to traumatize a child? Shave their head!”

——————————————————————————

Kunikda: *puts an American flag pin he found on the floor on his shirt and immediately takes it off* “Actually in hindsight I don’t want someone to think I’m a crazy republican... I’ll give it to Dazai.”

——————————————————————————

Chuuya: “Have fun.”

Akutagawa: “I won’t but thank you though.”

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Kyouka: “Do you want to see my PowerPoint on Halloween costumes?”

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Nikolai: *in a bad Italian accent* “It’s a me a Mario you dirty ass bitch!”

——————————————————————————

Akutagawa: “Are you having fun?”

Gin: “No... are you?”

Akutagawa: “No.”

——————————————————————————

Dazai: “I do need serious help, but not for this.”

——————————————————————————

Ranpo: “My mouth is like a popper.” *starts making pop cat sounds*

——————————————————————————

Atsushi: “Kyouka! You’re fucking crazy!”

Kyouka: *holding an extremely hot piece of metal with her bare hands* “I’m sorry?”

——————————————————————————

Ranpo: *sitting on the floor in a massive pile of popcorn* “So... uh... Santa’s sack broke?”

——————————————————————————

Yosano: *finding out she has covid at 11:59 on New Year’s Eve* “WELL HAPPY NEW YEAR I GUESS!”

——————————————————————————

Ranpo: “WHAT DO YOU MEAN NO?”

——————————————————————————

Kenji: “Let’s play Pictionary!”

Dazai: “Oh no.”

Kenji: “AND NO IT IS NOT A PENIS!”

——————————————————————————

Chuuya: *high out of his mind* “I am not high, I am medicated.”

——————————————————————————

Fukuzawa: “I AM THE PRESIDENT!”

——————————————————————————

Akutagawa: “Why do you need a little hole?”

Chuuya: “Just in case, you know?”

——————————————————————————

Dazai: *stamps Kunikida with a void stamp* “You didn’t get a D!”

Kunikida: *grabbing his pants* “Then what’s this?”

Dazai: “Not a D.”

——————————————————————————

Tecchou: “Cooled pillow water would be a great invention.”

Jouno: “I am terrified by what cooled pillow water could be.”

——————————————————————————

Chuuya: “What kind of boss do you think I am? A good one??”

——————————————————————————

Gin: “Behead him!”

——————————————————————————

Chuuya: “What did you say to me?”

Akutagawa: “Gin said you’re the coolest guy she’s ever met.”

Gin: “No no, get your facts straight. I said, YO CHUUYA THE COOLEST MOTHERFUCKER I’VE EVER MET!”

Chuuya: “Now that’s more accurate.”

——————————————————————————

Tecchou: *still talking about what cooled pillow water would be*

Jouno: “You are not going to convince me that you didn’t piss on your pillow and are trying to make up for it.”

——————————————————————————

Fukuzawa: “Do I ask why you chose to play a female gnome and not a male?”

Ranpo: “We needed a minority.”

——————————————————————————

Ranpo: *extremely offended* “Do you not like pepper on your salt?”

——————————————————————————

Dazai: “Chuuya is a World War II!”

——————————————————————————

Kenji: “As an empath I sense you’re having love troubles.”

Dazai: “Nah man that’s just the depression.”

——————————————————————————

Chuuya and Dazai: *Thursday, August 25th 2022, 2:30pm-9:00pm... Incident: The “Fuck You” Day*

——————————————————————————

Dazai: “You know what?... Unfucks your mom!”

Akutagawa: “My mom?”

Dazai: “Yes.”

Akutagawa: “Ok.”

——————————————————————————

Chuuya: “I just fucking wanna get these balls in... DON’T take that out of context!”

@stinkyme

#bsd incorrect quotes #bsd headcanons #bungo stray dogs #incorrect bungo stray dogs #incorrect bsd quotes #ranpo edogawa #kenji miyazawa #atsushi nakajima #kunikida doppo #dazai osamu #gin akutagawa #akutagawa ryuunosuke #nikolai gogol #kyouka izumi #fukuzawa yukichi #teruko okura #tachihara michizou #jouno saigiku #tecchou suehiro #yosano akiko #chuuya nakahara #bsd x reader

[cheese-tournament]

Round 2

Propaganda:

Parmigiano-Reggiano

Hard cheese that you definitely won't break your teeth try to grab a midnight snack

some bias sources wikipedia claim it has been called the "King of Cheeses"

The text laser cut into the cheese is pretty cool

Fontina

Another Italian hard cheese but at least this one isn't overrated

Aesthetically it looks generic af

#cheese tournament #cheese-tournament #tumblr cheesy man #cheese #cheese poll #tumblr polls #cheddar cheese #food poll #tournament poll #polls #Italy #parmesan #Parmigiano-Reggiano #fontina #round 2 #politics

[copperbadge]

Sometimes you take an edible and write porn. Sometimes you take an edible, fall down a hole researching the Alhambra Decree and the War of the Spanish Succession, and actually write out the history of your Ruritarian romance novel’s fake country. 

It actually fits together remarkably well, which is probably because I kept it really vague to begin with. Based on what’s in the books so far, as of the 15th century, we had two countries, Askaz (culturally very French) and Shivadlakia (culturally somewhat Slavic, also heavily Italian-influenced). Presume that they’re in a bit of a geographical “gully” so they’re not remote but they are a bit hard to get to; imagine that the Alps split, and between the two alpine ranges, you’ve got a pair of small countries that are just a pain in the ass to get to and not particularly rich in resources once there. The best way to access Shivadlakia is by boat, and the best way to get to Askaz is through Shivadlakia, which obviously creates some issues for the Askazers. 

Now, in the 16th century you get the persecution of Jews really ramping up all over Europe but especially in Italy and Spain. The Alhambra Decree in 1492 starts expelling Jews from Spain, and some of them end up in Shivadlakia. These are primarily Sephardic Jews -- Georgie is descended from Sephardic Jews who arrived from Spain, for example. 

Jews in Italy hear that there’s this small country quite nearby that’s taking in persecuted Jews from Spain, probably via Jewish traders who are sailing from the Shivadh port to Italy to do business. And the Shivadh, who were basically farmers until all these cool Spanish Jews showed up, are like “Well, this seems baller to me, they’re buying stuff and opening schools and they’re very quiet neighbors, let’s roll with it.” 

So as of 1600, you have roughly three generations of Jews who have settled in Shivadlakia, married the locals, and started spreading into Askaz, since they’re a major trading partner. The countries are still separate, but in 1602 our hero GILLES ROMAN Y ASKAZ is born. 

Round about 1625 or so, Gilles Roman y Askaz, ruler of Askaz, meets a pair of siblings, a prince and princess of Shivadlakia. He’s already been trying to figure out how to either conquer or treaty with Shivadlakia, since they have the port and he needs a port. He gets into a fight with them over a possibly-poached deer and falls in love with someone -- purportedly the princess, possibly the prince, depends on how you read it. In any case, he marries the princess and keeps the prince as a very close advisor, uniting the two countries. Sometime thereafter, he grants a dukedom to the prince, creating the Duchy of Shivadlakia, which at that point extends well into what later would become Galia. (This is Jerry’s 9x great-grandfather; one of Gilles’ children with the princess is the ancestor of Alanna and Miranda.) 

All goes swimmingly until after Gilles dies; there’s a strong line of succession and the Dukes of Shivadlakia are extremely loyal to the crown. Between the royals and nobility they hold the place together remarkably well until the early 1700s, during the War of the Spanish Succession. The British weren’t super invested in this war but they were invested in stabilizing Europe, so at this point the British sent a fuckton of soldiers, mostly Welsh, into Askazer-Shivadlakia as an access point for both France and Italy. The Shivadh, who don’t have a navy and weren’t expecting a fuckton of Welsh soldiers to show up and threaten their fishing fleet, rolled their eyes and got on with making cheese, but they were forced to learn/speak English by the soldiers. The occupation wasn’t centuries long, but it was long enough for the Welsh soldiers to realize that Askazer-Shivadlakia is very like Wales only with way nicer weather and more gay, so they stayed and intermarried too, which is why everyone speaks a) English with b) a Welsh accent. 

When the Shivadh finally lose patience and officially expel English rule, it’s been a short enough time that the royal family just kind of...took a breather for a generation or two, but now they’re BACK and IN CHARGE. (Sometime in here -- probably after the Welsh Invasion, but not by much -- Queen Alekha deposes the king who suborned her husband’s infidelity, beheads him, and takes the throne. She eventually marries a minor royal in order to establish legitimacy for herself.) Anyway, that’s basically how it remains until 1914, when Gregory II is crowned king. 

Gregory II gets them through WWI without too much suffering, and decides -- having seen what’s going on in Russia and a couple of other key countries -- to democratize the country. He is re-crowned as the first democratically elected life-term king, and also manages to get the country through WWII, mainly by 1) sending everyone he possibly could somewhere way safer for Jews than Europe and 2) opening his country to the Allies, primarily by sheltering and supporting Allied spies and small raiding parties. This also introduces an entirely new industry to Askazer-Shivadlakia: every Allied spymaster is now aware that they are a quiet, discreet place to have A Meeting That Never Happened, and they become something of a hub for backroom diplomacy. 

Gregory II passes in 1952, his son Nathan IV is elected, and Nathan is such a fucking disaster that within two years Jason Michaelis, the son of Greek immigrants to Askazer-Shivadlakia, uses his considerable wealth and political clout to oust Nathan and get himself elected. He rules until 1981, when his son Michaelis ben Jason, married to the many-greats granddaughter of Gilles Roman y Askaz, is elected. 

The rest is Romance. :D 

#shivadhverse