#gorgonkin

Heya!

Yes of course! Sorry for the wait~ I did a mix of greek recipes and asian food (since you said you liked those) and avoided oranges and overly spicy flavors :)

https://www.themediterraneandish.com/chicken-gyro-recipe/

https://www.recipetineats.com/greek-lemon-potatoes/

https://www.themediterraneandish.com/spanakopita-recipe-greek-spinach-pie/

https://www.recipetineats.com/moussaka-greek-eggplant-beef-bake/

https://www.marilenaskitchen.com/2017/11/02/traditional-greek-bean-soup/

https://www.bowlofdelicious.com/greek-lentil-soup-faki/

https://www.justonecookbook.com/homemade-chashu-miso-ramen/

https://www.maangchi.com/recipe/kare-bokkeumbap

https://www.maangchi.com/recipe/jaengban-jjajangmyeon

https://www.maangchi.com/recipe/baechujeon

And partially because I remember holding the half-lithified cold corpse of a child in my hands, mission successful.

Beautiful, disgusting, and yet so remorseless.

I don't know this child, but they died young and were buried alone. So I bend my head and say a few words, entrust them to the dark, wish healing on their family, and crack open my heart. I never, never want to feel strong when faced with a little round-skulled corpse.

Never again.

I like to watch the cloudy sky, butt perched on a pallet of stone slabs, and listen to the music playing endlessly in my brain.

I sigh through my teeth and press my thumbprint to my laptop, prod my glasses into place. Starbucks is alive with noise but quiet, and in my periphery strangers hunch like gargoyles over their own private business. It’s habit to run my tongue over my teeth when I set myself to focussing, and this little glass dimensional portal requires such attention.

I consider it, lidless and apathetic as a knife.

I’m not suited to the underground, this go around. I have the freedom to move, to grow, no longer a bonsai tree of a person, no longer someone else’s gun.

But I’ve sent in a thousand requests to be someone else’s dishrag, grocery bag, kitchen spatula, and been found wanting.

I don’t know what to make of that.

The ghost of a ribbon-flicker tongue in my ear, my fingers pause over a pet store application.

Fangs I do not own flex in and out.