paprika chicken pasta

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Is this how you roll?

a little kid came up to the desk (it came up to his like, collarbone) and very seriously asked me about baby name books, because he wanted to help name his new sibling. i guided him to the shelf (there were only two book of names) and pointed out the differences between them, and after some serious contemplation he went, “I think I should take both, just in case.” So I gave him both and he thanked me and went on his way.

And I went back to my desk and screamed into my arm for like 45 years because HE WAS SO FUCKING ADORABLE AAAAA

i love when little kids come to the reference desk alone because they want to be perceived as an adult and so they come up to you and very seriously inquire “Where are your books about dolphins? ò__ó”

and of course you have to very seriously show them your collection of dolphin books while they nod carefully at your explanations and it’s SO CUTE!!! THEY’RE SO CUTE AAAH

Extra Rich & Creamy Cheesecake

The BEST Vegan Chocolate Chip Cookies

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Is this how you roll?

These are the people y’all refuse to call out in your fandom for small stuff, and look at how they escalate.

Another person was like “this is racist” and author of the racist story accuses us of playing the race card (and it’s only us two out of everyone else). How can you post your racist fanfiction and also have the backbone of a chocolate eclair at the same time?

This^^^

I’m so tired of how black characters and black fans are treated in fandoms. Just so exhausted. It genuinely hurts.

Like, look at this! Because I said their friend’s fanfic was slightly racist! How can they justify this???

This is a painting of Jacek Malczewski called simply ‘Death’ and it’s my favourite personification of death in any medium. 

She’s not creepy or scary, or sexy, or abstract. She is this thick woman with worn hands, dressed as normal, with a non-stylised scythe and pins in her hair: like a farmer’s wife that just came form the field and rests against the wall, catching some sun. She is not creeping about the dying one holding her scythe over their head, she is just there, calmly waiting her turn. 

This painting always fills me with peace and optimism when I think about death. She is just there, outside the window, in no hurry at all, sensible and down to earth. I can live with that.

Banana Chocolate Chip Muffins