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#they were sharing bread
ruthimages · 5 months
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umigatos · 7 months
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mitsuru doodle he's fun to draw..
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castieldelamancha · 10 months
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eileen and cas having a conversation using asl and dean walks past where they are sitting and cas does what he always does in those moments, follow dean with his eyes and every ounce of longing in his body until he is out of sight and when he looks back at eileen she is clearly trying not to laugh and having some mercy on cas she tells him he was just signing completely gibberish to her and cas' realizes that he actually didn't stop signing while looking at dean
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rubenesque-as-fuck · 1 month
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what's your favorite method of taking weed? (joints, blunts, bongs, edibles, drinkables, etc.)
I love a good joint, they feel so luxurious and remind me of so many good people that I've shared them with. A good joint can be a very communal experience. Also I have a fun little joint hokder and I love it.
Also very big fan of bongs/bubblers! Especially interesting/unique pieces. I have a huge collection of them but they're mostly packed up since I don't have anywhere to display them and techhhhhhhnically smoking isn't allowed in my apartment so the fewer peices I have out the fewer I have to hide for inspections 😬 I'll add my #smoking glass hashtag to link to a few things
When I want to get Really Stoned or when I need to be smoke-free for any reason then I like a good edible. I don't have much excuse to make them any more but I used to have so much fun making edibles from scratch for folks! Used to make some real KO snacks 😂
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urne-buriall · 3 months
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Hii! Do you have any book recommendations for people who liked your time has come today series or generally a favourite books list that you don’t mind sharing?
you ask the million-dollar question. I read a lot and love making comparisons, but it's easier with my other works than with "time has come today", specifically
there's what I know it is (adventurous, emotional, romantic, self-reflective) and what I hope it is (compelling, original, occasionally profound). it features a classic hero's journey, detailed character study of our favourite repressed bisexual man, all my thoughts and feelings about the tragedy of time travel - alongside my damned constant sense of hope. it was basically written because I wanted it and didn't have anything else like it
for time travel with romantic threads you might enjoy This is How You Lose the Time War by Amal El-Mohtar and Max Gladstone. the writer I find most similar to my style in terms of being funny and spooky is T. Kingfisher (Nettle & Bone, What Moves the Dead, and more). she has this merrily macabre sensibility, very fresh fantasy concepts, believable and awesome side characters, and an underlying belief that virtue and courtesy aren't outdated concepts or that hard work is worth doing
indirect inspirations would be something like The Catcher in the Rye by J.D. Salinger, for when you're a boy mishandling your hurt and trauma mostly through arrogant denial, or True Grit by Charles Portis for a very solid adventure story with a fantastic lead character, and which I see as a lesson in plot-focus (tell a story that matters intensely to the characters involved, even if it has no grand scope or effect in the larger world, and you've told a story worth reading)
other authors I generally love: Shirley Jackson, Victor LaValle, Julian Barnes, Susanna Clarke, Helen Oyeyemi, Umberto Eco, Donna Tartt, & so many more
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laniidae-passerine · 5 months
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Honestly I think Dean Highbottom has some shit to answer to as well. The mockery, the derision, the outright admittance that he was hoping Coriolanus would fail and the Snow family would continue to suffer. How someone who loathed the Games still treated a young man with cruelty because of the past, because of social divides that would be so easy to tear down. In the end, it wasn’t just Gaul who shaped Snow into the man he became. So bitter and hateful. So incapable of compassion and forgiveness. Just like his father. Just like his Dean.
#like yeah there were a lot of things questionable about Snow even before he was chosen as a mentor in the games#but like. damn. you didn’t even consider the idea he could be better than his father did you?#the way kindness could have unravelled some of the hate in Snow’s heart#listen to me tell you the horrible things your father did. listen to me tell you that you can be different. you are not the past.#the divides between us do not truly exist. look at the weapon in your hand. it is real. and it can do real damage#but if you never hate someone - if they never fool you into letting violence into your heart - they can never make you use it#it breaks my heart. how could you hate a ghost so much that you’d kill a child. I don’t know. but the Dean does. and so does Snow.#the cycles run and run until somebody stops. and burns some bread. and shares berries. and takes an arrow. and says no more. I love you#it is difficult. it could hurt me. it could be the very last thing I do. it may not even serve me well. but I love you. I love. always.#how pathetic hate makes you. how strong love makes you. like staring at the Dean and staring at characters like Haymitch#like two substance abusing men who know the system inside out. who are complicit. who are victims. both embittered and angry.#but one saw a child and decided to punish him for the past#and the other saw a child and decided - okay. it’s been 23 years. my heart hurts. I want to give in. I want to hate you. I want to not care.#I’m going to care anyway. I’m in so much pain. It’s killing me. I’m going to care anyway. about you both. it won’t be perfect. but I care.#and I’ll be here through hell. and I will fuck up. so fucking badly. because I’m still addicted and angry and god knows I have suffered.#god knows these hands are bloody and they always will be. but I will keep coming back. I will keep trying. I will still love.#and in the end I will write names in a book that belongs to you and I will find a little bit of peace in a house where the sun shines#and the geese make ridiculous noises in the yard. and love will have seen me through.#HAYMITCH YOU WILL ALWAYS BE FAMOUS I LOVE YOU MY IMPERFECT DARLING#dean highbottom#coriolanus snow#the hunger games#a ballad of songbirds and snakes#haymitch abernathy#thg#abosas#suzanne collins#SHE WILL ALWAYS BE FAMOUS
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bibannana · 1 year
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(Based on real events in my life. As we can tell my brother has great ideas.)
Pickup *laying on his bunk*: I feel sick.
Coy *checking his temperature*: Are you too warm? Do you have stomach cramps?
Pickup *suffering*: Yes. Help me vode.
Kix *concerned*: What have you been eating while we were away Pickup?
Pickup *hesitates*: Uhhhh-
Echo *butts in*: He ate banana bread.
Coy *raises and eyebrow*: That doesn't explain why-
Fives *proud look*: Six and a half loaves of banana bread!
Kix *blinks*: Oh yeah, that will do it.
Coy *steps back*: Well I can't help your stupidity Pickup, think you just have to suffer through this one.
Rex *resigned, accepting sigh*
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posallys · 10 months
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Oh my god isn't it totally crazy and ironic how all of my boyfriend and I's food that was going missing stopped disappearing for the entire week one of our roommates (who is "not taking it i swear") was gone and suddenly is magically and unfathomably disappearing again now that he’s back? So wild what a coinkydink
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mimi-croissant · 1 year
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They are soooo silly…
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Gonna bake bread and THEN make mac n cheese. Might go crazy and do some laundry. Will definitely go crazy and do some dishes. Fuck yeah.
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peachpaws0 · 2 years
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I’m thinking about the use of the licensed tv show theme songs in some of Marcy’s backstory episodes (Simon & Marcy and Everything Stays (Stakes Part 2))
#it’s just so. human. and I think these being ‘real’ songs make it even more so#like it’s so.. before everything. before the mushroom war. Simon singing the cheers theme song to entertain Marcy and keep himself sane#the humans singing the them song from mr.Belvedere#like what two bread Tom said ‘As humans it's our duty to tell the tales to sing the songs. Art must survive.“#latching onto the few things that lasted over the mushroom bombs.#preserving the songs that they enjoyed. one of the few pleasures that were left in ooo#it’s just… so human ?? idk if this makes sense#also how both times they are sharing the music.. the humans all know the song as it has been shared throughout their tribe and preserved#Simon singing Marcy the cheers song the first time.. just trying to entertain her. living in the post apocalyptic land that ooo was at that#time wasn’t easy. we saw that in the episode and the second time Simon sung it. but the little moments like this are always so. human.#AND THE SECOND TIME. Simon using the cheers theme to keep himself sane. for Marceline. he having to use the crown to protect Marceline and#himself from the mutants. we can clearly see him losing himself to the crown but the music helped make him not completely lose himself to th#crown. and it’s just so. so human.#gods#can you tell I’m so normal about adventure time#I’m so sane and adjusted about it#and them being real life theme songs makes it even more. like these are songs people know. I’m sure some people cherish these songs and#it just adds to the whole feeling of it just being so so so human to do this stuff
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lisatelramor · 2 years
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Tea tip: if you're making loose leaf tea or using herbs like grated ginger or mint and don't have a tea diffuser or strainer, you can make a quick tea bag out of a coffee filter and the plastic tab from a bread bag. Works super well to catch all the silt and leaves, and is quick too.
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knifefightscene · 2 years
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swedes are all cold bc theyre all afraid someone will try to steal their gummy fish
Not sharing food and then the whole time their food looks like shit too
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onlygodknowsimgood · 6 months
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When I was young, I never really understood my parents insistence to only use olive oil imported from Palestine. It took a long time and a great distance in a process that was neither cheap nor convenient. The oil came in old beat-up containers that did not look appealing to me at all. In my head, if they wanted to support distant family back home, they could just send them money and save us and them a big hassle. We could just use the nice looking olive oil containers from the nearby store. Yet, this was never an option in our household. The only olive oil we used at home was from Palestine.
‎As I grew up and started a student part-time job, I worked with olive oil a little. I knew all about olive oil imported from Spain, Italy, and other countries. I knew which ones were better and more expensive. I also learned to tell, based on the pungent taste, which ones were extra virgin. I was tempted to use my employee discount to bring home one of the fancy bottles and use at our kitchen. I could not get myself to do it, and I did not exactly know why. I felt like it would be disrespectful to my parents even if it didn’t make sense to me. It did not feel right. It was not an option.
‎After living in Palestine for a year during the olive picking season, something changed. The olive picking season in Palestine is holy.
‎Palestinians relate to the weather based on how it would benefit or harm the olives. There is well-known unspoken rule about treating olive trees with respect. There is a day off from work just to pick olives. On public transportation, it is not unusual to hear someone on the phone telling their friend to stop by for their share of this year’s olive oil stored in what used to be a Coca-Cola or a liquor bottle. A driver will stop in the middle of the way to give his brother- in- law a jar of olives that are so close to one another that they start to crush showing their insides.
‎In Nablus, the owner of the Nabulsi soap factory takes pride in how picky he is about getting his olive oil. He insists on filling a cup to let me smell how authentic it is and smirks as he sees my diasporic facial expressions transform in appreciation of its strong smell running through all of my brain cells.
‎I started noticing how olive oil is an essential part of so many dishes. “Palestinians drink more olive oil than water” I would jokingly say and they would laugh in agreement. Olive oil is truly an everyday ritual.
‎They fantasize about its color when it’s fresh and remind me that it starts to change as it reacts with oxygen over time. They dip their bread into olive oil, just like that and without any additions, and enjoy it more than the sweetest of all foods. I can guarantee that every lunch invitation (عزومة) I received during the olive-picking season was a chance for my hosts to share their olive oil using Msakhan (a traditional Palestinian dish).
‎I now have a deeper understanding of the psychology behind the burning of olive trees by Israeli soldiers and why farmers moan at the scene as if they lost a loved one.
‎Wherever you are, if it’s accessible to you, make sure your olive oil is Palestinian. Your ancestors would want that.
- Dima Seelawi
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mariamlovesyou · 5 months
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bisan's live video on her 2nd acc is piercing my heart
she started off expressing (in arabic) how sick she is of the constant sharing, photographing, capturing, having to speak english and how she wants to speak in her native tongue instead.
she explained that the leaflets that were dropped again are ordering evacuation to rafah so they are forced into the sinai, and how impossible it is for over 2 million people to go to an area that's only 151 square km, so many have no choice but to stay in khan younis. they are trapped and have no international passports. rafah is the southernmost point of palestine after khan younis and she said - this part in english - "after rafah there is no more palestine. if we are forced into rafah there is no more palestine."
someone asked her if she has eaten and whether they have any food, her response was no, not at all; one loaf of bread has to be divided between everyone in her tent.
the video kept freezing because of how bad the internet service is in gaza right now so i lost bits and pieces, but at some point an older woman joined the live, a journalist outside of the country. it's unclear whether they knew each other previously, but a lot of warmth was exchanged. the woman got tears out of bisan when she told her "dont listen to people who tell you to be strong, i don't want you to be strong, i want you to be you. if you are sad i want to know, if you are happy i want to know." she explained that she tried entering rafah but the occupation refuses to let any foreign journalists in anymore.
after the woman left, bisan talked about her life before october. she said her life was beautiful and fruitful and any source of strife was solely on israeli hands; namely her inability to travel or pursue placements for her education outside of palestine. other than that she had nothing to complain about. if im able to watch the video after it ends, i will add any pieces i missed
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tojancy · 12 days
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nanami’s side of the bed wouldn’t even be called nanami’s anymore. you sleep there nearly every day, blaming it on how the pillows smell of him.
nanami’s clothes aren’t his anymore, you're sleeping in his shorts and t-shirt tonight. you wore his shirt yesterday, and took his ties for some clothes experiments last week.
nanami’s sacred pens are no longer his own, he finds them on the table after you tried to scribble up something and forgot to put them back.
nanami’s mugs are now shared, always in the dishwasher even when he doesn’t recall using them at all. 
nanami’s thoughts don’t belong just to him anymore. you’d bug him about it all day if he doesn’t share what he’s thinking — so he, with an exasperated sigh, tells you what’s on his mind.
nanami’s salary doesn’t go straight to his savings account like it used to, instead taking a portion of it to spend on you. ‘you’ means gifts, flowers, dates, trips, trinkets, and so on.
nanami’s weekends aren’t as quiet as they once were; now they’re chaotic, full of so much of you. 
nanami’s fridge is full nowadays. candy, leftovers, ice cream, cheese, cake, bread, and the list goes on. so many things that don’t go along with his diet fill the once-empty shelves.
nanami doesn’t spend as much time in his study as before you moved in. now old books are left to collect dust, long forgotten in a room that’s never lit. even when he decides to pick one up and read it, it’s the minute that he sees your face the book is tossed away.
nanami’s happiness still comes from days off, but now it’s because those days are spent with you. days when he slept long and ignores the world are long gone, now he gets to sit and focus on you, watching as everything else becomes nothing but background noise.
nanami has always been sure he’s not looking for marriage, at least not right now. but he swears that ring looks so perfect for you. there’s no way he’d miss it. 
nanami stands in front of the bathroom mirror 5 minutes late every day because you’re still figuring out how to fix his tie the right way without any help. he can’t seem to rush you, though — what’s being precisely on time have on your little giggles as you sit on the sink and struggle to finish a task he could have done in under a minute?
nanami has been spending so much time eating as of late, more time than he can afford. while he used to finish a meal in approximately fifteen minutes, now dinners could stretch to two hours. he couldn’t get off the table early when you sit across from him, talking and joking and doing anything that’s not eating. he simply can’t possibly not indulge in the little conversations, appreciating every moment he gets to spend in your presence. nanami’s life wouldn’t even be called his anymore. you’re a storm, invading his life all at once, bringing in your chaos along with you. you’ve infatuated him, you’ve assailed his senses and changed his very being. every time nanami’s eyes align with yours, he prays your presence isn’t a fleeting one. he silently hopes you don’t leave as suddenly as you came, that you plan to stay.
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