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mariedreamlove · 1 year

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Feeding into the sibling headcanons of my newest fic ( a second chance (I'll take it no matter what)):

Finney and Gwen:

- their bond is even closer, they understand eachother without words

- if someone even tries to pick on either of them, the other comes to the protection, if verbally or physically is actually more or less depending in what condition the other sibling is.

- Gwen would literally travel through time for Finney, and does so.

- Finn's main goals are simple: protect the boys, make sure the Grabber doesn't even realize Gwen exists.

- They have disagreements. Quite often actually, though they still have the mentality : we can't be against one another if someone is against us two (either their dad or the Grabber)

- Finney still eats Gwen's ice cream, and she drinks his grape sodas if she gets the chance.

- she also likes, if the situation let's it be, to pick on Finney's crushes. (Donna First, then Robin.)

- tho Finney acts like he doesn't like it, he enjoys buying Gwen sweets or magazines or anything she likes.

- they always are there for eachother, and know of to clam the other one down I'm case of a panic attack.

- Gwen always tells Finney everything, and he tells her almost everything.

Donna & Billy (they are siblings in this AU)

- They don't have a great relationship ( constant fights, sometimes getting physical with shoving and when they were younger even hitting)

- after Billy was kidnapped, Donna fell into some kind of trance and just acted like.. nothing happened. She couldn't quite grasp what had happend and that her brother didn't return from his paper route. After his killer was dead though, she fell into a kind of realization and now only wants to make things better, change the past and save him to get the chance to at least tell him how sorry she is for him she treated him.

- Billy always left, though the siblings mostly were cold to eachother, a chocolate bar before Donna's door if they had a fight to say he was sorry. He doesn't know how to say sorry really. Sometimes it annoys Donna but she also appreciates it.

- Billy is a year and a half older than her, and is constantly acting like he is absolutely superior to her because of this ( he is only a few inches taller than her, and in the future Donna would have grown taller than him).

- tho they absolutely act like they despise eachother or don't know eachother, they can grow quite protective of eachother. Of course this grow into fights sometimes.

- Billy has terrible fears of storms and tornados, after he survived a bad storm on one of his routes. (A tree he was driving under was hit by lighting and a branch almost fell on him, but he survived with only a few bruises and a broken toe) Donna then either told him stories or just slept in the same room as him. Neither of them talk about it, but it happens.

- they do have to go through a lot of therapy before they can say to eachother that they love and appreciate each other. (Yet Donna traveled back in time to save him from the Grabber.)

Vance & Griffin

- Griffin used to sit right next to Vance and watch him with Vance's other friend break his Highscores and was having the time of his life while doing so, because oh my god the Vance Hopper is my brother and he lets me watch!

- Vance is a terrible comforter, and Griffin is a emotional kid. Chaos ensues everytime Griffin comes to his big brother crying and he just tries to clam him down. He often just offers to buy him ice cream or go catch bugs with him.

- While Vance likes to fight, while not in any sport, and to play pinball but this irrelevant for this rn, he wouldn't do it in front of Griffin. Not because his brother doesn't like violence nor not to scare him. Griffin just gets way too much of a big mouth and tries acting like Vance, while being build like a stick. ( How easy his back was to break.. like a stick.)

- the two curse a lot around eachother, and Vance tries to talk Griffin out of trying to beat people up. Because he can't, and Vance is terrible at patching himself up. Let alone his little brother!

- their dad isn't around a lot, so Griffin looks up to Vance. He gets a lot of his humor from Vance and his attitude sometimes.

- tho sometimes having different opinions, they two always stick together.

- Griffin loves bananas while Vance despises them like he has personal beef with them.

- as ghosts, while Vance was in the basement, Griffin knew he knew Vance from somewhere. Vance called out to Griff, but Griffin never realized they were brothers. When Vance died, he hugged Griffin so hard and cried harder than ever before, even while dying he didn't cry so hard. He apologized for leaving him alone that day for not walking him to school and anything. Griffin just asks who Vance is.

- normally Vance walks Griffin to school ( on the day of his kidnapping they had a fight.. Vance stayed home while Griffin walked to school. We know how this one ended.)

- Griffin is someone who overhears, through being almost unnoticeable to his peers, everything. Meaning Vance knows exactly what someone said. Because Vance is the one Griffin tells everything.

Bruce & Amy

- don't get always along, kind of rivals in things to impress their parents.

- when they were younger, they had a similar situation as Billy and Donna, but they grew over it. They still have tension but get along way better.

- Amy is more antisocial than Bruce, and unlike him she tells when she doesn't want something.

- Amy loves sweets, while Bruce likes more spicy snacks and less sweet deserts.

- Amy is at every Baseball game of Bruce, and he goes to every soccer game she has.

- After Bruce disapeared, Amy's grades really got low. So low, she had to repeat the year, because she was so distraught by her big brother dissapearing.

- for that reason she didn't like Donna. They were in the same situation and shoes, their big brothers being gone, and Donna acted like.. nothing happened. After Finney disappeared she and Gwen got to be friends, and later she warmed up to Donna too, after realizing that was the way she dealt with the trauma.

- Bruce tells Amy all about his problems and is the only person he is like half out to, and she does so too.

Robin and literally everyone.

- the literal only only child in the friend group.

- he acts like a big brother to the younger siblings (Griffin, Gwen and Donna, sometimes Amy if Bruce brings her along) and like the annoying younger brother to Vance and Bruce and Billy, and to Finney he's his soulmate.

- he one time snuck all of his friends in his uncle's truck to the cinema without him knowing

- he got the best lunches, because either his mom or his uncle make them.

- look at his friends the wrong way and he'll make you pay. Bare you nice, he'll be nice

#the black phone #finney blake #robin arellano #billy showalter #bruce yamada #griffin stagg #the black phone fanfic #vance hopper #donna tbp #finney x robin #angst #almost everyone are siblings #time travel fix it #amy yamada

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teenaween · 1 month

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the calling of wolves and vipers, chapter 2

unexpected guests of all varieties

ao3 link: the calling of wolves and vipers

tumblr masterlist: the calling of wolves and vipers

pairing: Draco Malfoy x Theodore Nott x Hermione Granger

description: draco, theo, and hermione navigate growing affections as they fight for werewolf rights. there are forces, however, which will stop at nothing to ensure their efforts are for naught.

Hermione sat at her cluttered desk clutching her pen tightly. Theo was out sick with some kind of flu and she had to catch up on work for their proposal. He took home his work but she was pulling more weight because she hadn’t wanted him to stress at all while he was ill.

When lunch rolled around Hermione figured she’d just work through it and snack on the grapes and cheese she brought with her. She would’ve gone to lunch with Ginny but the morning sickness was hitting hard and she couldn’t leave the house much this week.

Two strong raps came at the door. “Come in,” Hermione didn’t look up from her work.

“Oh, is Theo still out?” Draco’s deep rumble brought her out of her focus. When she met his gaze she suddenly felt self-conscious of the hair askew atop her head knotted with her wand and the half-falling-off cardigan she wore. She jerked the sleeve back up and smoothed back her hair only for a curl to spring right back into place in front of her eyes. Draco chuckled.

“Yeah, um, he is,” she muttered, blushing furiously. Draco looked straight out of a magazine with his black slacks and cashmere eggshell sweater. An expensive looking watch sparkled on his right wrist. Draco is a lefty, interesting, she thought. His hair was the longest that short hair can be considered and he’d abandoned the slicked-back look of his childhood for a tousled model look, it looked as though he’d just carded through it and stayed that way. With his slimmed features and sharp jawline, he looked the part.

“I guess I’ll leave you be then.” Draco’s eyes dropped toward the floor and he toyed with his watch.

“You could stay?” Hermione chided herself for the way it sounded more like a question than an offer. “I mean to say, we’re both close with Theo, it’s about time we spent some time together.” Hermione knew her face was hopeful and vulnerable, she felt a draw to him lately and wanted to explore it.

“Hm, I suppose you’re right,” Draco drawled, pulling the door shut with him inside. “Where should I sit?” Draco motioned to the paper covered desks and Theo’s chair with her personal items on it.

“Does the floor work?” She asked, ignoring entirely that the very first thing he did was agree with her. “When Theo and I eat together we do it on the floor for lack of desk space.” She blushed again. Surely Draco Malfoy could afford a big enough desk and office space. He was an auror afterall, they got better funding.

“I’m aware of that little quirk of your workspace, the floor will do fine,” Draco’s smile was teasing, but warm. Hermione returned it, and tossed in an eyeroll to boot.

It was comical watching an alpha werewolf fold in on himself and spread out his lunch on the floor of her office. His long muscular legs were tucked until they were crossed and his back hunched to reach his things on the floor. Everytime he leaned over Hermione could see how wide his lats were, making it look like his anatomy was more suited for wings and flying than suits and offices.

“How’s work?” she asked him cautiously. It was the awkward small talk of acquaintances who are familiar with one another but don’t know anything specific to have a conversation of substance.

“I like it, it’s fast paced, aside from the paperwork, and I get to put away the wizards who want us to go back to how we used to be.” He tucked into his sandwich before she could reply.

“Oh, that’s really good,” she said.

“Has McLaggen bothered you anymore?” Draco asked nonchalantly, she would’ve believed it if it weren’t for the tick in his jaw after he said his name.

“No, I haven’t even seen him.”

Draco’s eyes darkened for a moment and then he shook his head and looked to her, “I’m not joking, Hermione,” a thrill ran through her at the sound of her name on his tongue, “if he so much as looks in your direction you come to me or Theo.” The thrill collapsed into cold discomfort as she thought about Cormac. Draco’s inhale was audible and he cocked his head, she saw his hands flex as though nails begged to rip through the skin of his fingertips.

“I’m okay, really,” she tried to comfort him.

He spoke through clenched teeth, “I can smell your fear.”

“Alright, he unsettles me, but I’m safe and I don’t really think he’d do anything,” She was pretty sure her words were true, but Draco’s eyes narrowed. “Besides, I have an alpha and a beta ready at my beck and call right?”

Her attempt to cut the tension was fruitless. Draco should’ve bristled at such a comment, his alpha no more than an attack dog, it should’ve been a playful insult. He was supposed to grumble and she’d laugh. Instead he nodded solemnly.

“Whatever you need,” his words were a whisper. Hermione was breathless and she debated topics for small talk to distract from the touchy topic but decided against it.

“Draco?” His head perked up, silver eyes boring into hers. His name was foreign in her mouth, always Malfoy, but he was a new man and deserved a new name. “Can I ask you some personal questions?”

“Considering all you’ve done for wizarding kind, I’d say you’ve earned the right to bypass small talk. Ask away.” He gestured with a sweep of his hand for her to go on.

“I know you apologized to me and I know you’ve changed, I guess I’m just wondering why? There’s no doubt you were an indoctrinated child, but I’m still curious why you chose to go against what your parents believe.” The words rushed out before she could stop them.

Draco gently placed his sandwich down and took a deep breath before looking at her with such searing vulnerability her stomach roiled and her eyes begged the reprieve of looking away.

“I saw you tortured. I never wanted to be a part of the cause, but my parents forced me. It became real though when you were tortured on the drawing room floor. My aunt had the ability to torture and potentially kill you, I was so frightened in that moment I froze. I chose never to freeze again.” He nodded to her at the end and then resumed eating as though he hadn’t dredged up both of their trauma.

“I suppose that’s a,” she cleared her throat, “fairly terrific reason.”

Draco gave her a warm look. One that brought the edges of his lips up in a subtle curve and accentuated lines around his eyes she’d never noticed. His silver eyes seemed to soften and his blinks were slow and measured. Hermione felt caught up in his gaze, distracted by the tender moment.

The door swung open and Hermione’s eyes shot toward the head of disheveled black hair that popped in. Harry’s green eyes went wide and darted between Draco and Hermione. Draco schooled his expression into cool indifference a moment too late. Harry had witnessed whatever just happened.

“Sorry,” he cleared his throat awkwardly, “I was looking to see if you wanted to come to lunch with me, but I see you’re occupied.” Harry nodded to Draco.

“Yes, um-” Hermione started, brain still mush from the simmering molten gaze.

“Right, well. Bye.” Harry closed the door as quickly as he’d opened it. He’d managed to deconstruct the moment between them with his inept grace. Hermione couldn’t bring herself to be mad at him though, her best friend could be thick sometimes.

“Do people normally burst into your office unannounced? Have I made a fool of myself by knocking?” Draco’s drawl was a clear offense toward Harry, but it was harmless in a way that disarmed her.

“No, those are just Harry’s delicate manners at work, you’d know all about those right? I’m sure you had a lesson dedicated specifically to entering a room gracefully.” Hermione bowed her head at him in faux respect and tucked back into her grapes.

“I certainly did, in fact, I’d say I’m an expert on entrances.”

His eyes burned into hers and a wicked grin split his lips. It took her a moment to recognize the innuendo for what it was. Was he flirting? Hermione threw a grape at him and the motion made her miss the way his eyes flashed with a supernatural obsidian glow.

“You’re an expert on idiocy.”

Draco and Hermione settled into the rest of lunch that way. Eating in comfortable conversation, the occasional joke or jab. She found that as she stood and cleaned up the space and bid him goodbye, she didn’t want him to leave.

Hermione stood in the doorway and watched as his broad shoulders disappeared into the lunch rush crowded halls of the ministry, but not before he glanced over his shoulder and shot her a grin. Her stomach fluttered traitorously.

***

Hermione’s mom always made her pastina when she was unwell.

So there Hermione stood, brow beading sweat over a bowl of boiling chicken stock and pastina. She poured in the cheeses and sighed as she mixed them.

She didn’t even know if Theo liked pastina.

But Ginny insisted it was a great idea and a good way to show her care for her friend, or maybe more. Lunch with Draco made Hermione confused, as she told Ginny, but she was still just as interested in Theo. Ginny told Hermione that wizards were more progressive than muggles in the senses of sexuality, insisting it’s quite common for triads or polyamorous couples to become bonded or married. Hermione scoffed at Ginny’s implication.

Hermione had never been interested in two men in this way before, though. And it was easier for her to pretend the Draco factor was no more than a fluke. Theo had been on her mind for months now, snaking his way around her very heart and sinking his venom in until she was sold.

The pastina was meant to be a gesture of love, Hermione’s subtle way of saying you’re always on my mind and I want you to be well. There were three main ingredients in pastina, chicken stock to bring a hearty taste, the pastina itself which swelled into sweet stars, and pecorino romano which melted and tied it all together. Of course there was also salt, pepper, olive oil and butter as well. Once the cheese was melted, she grabbed a tupperware and began spooning it in.

By the time she was en route to Theo’s flat–he’d long abandoned living in the manor–she had three full containers in her arms. Theo’s flat was further into wizarding London and she had to take the tube to get there. She couldn’t floo because they didn’t have an established connection and she couldn’t apparate because she didn’t know the area well enough to be sure she’d arrive somewhere sans muggles.

Hermione hesitated at Theo’s door, second guessing her gesture and worried it would be too overbearing. But she forced herself to knock and plastered on a pleasant smile.

It took a moment for Theo to get to the door, she could hear him shuffling slowly. As the door peeled open and Hermione got a good look at him her heart melted at the visage.

His bright hazel eyes were muddy with poor sleep, the deep pockets beneath them, further evidence. His cheeks were pale and colorless where they were normally flushed and full. One thing about his image was precious, the way he had one of Hermione’s crocheted blankets wrapped around his head and body so he looked like a tall sickly nesting doll.

“Oh, Theo,” Hermione cooed, his eyes widened innocently, the picture of a sick child trying to coax his mother into giving him sweets. Hermione knew at that moment Theo would milk this for all it was worth. And she’d let him. That sweet, kind, dramatic man she cared for so much. Because maybe she did, maybe she’d cared for him for a while now.

“What are you doing here?” Theo rasped, his voice clearly overused from coughing.

Hermione held up the containers, “I made you pastina, in my opinion its healing benefits are better than chicken soup, but maybe you won’t like it. I mean you don’t have to eat it-”

“Take a breath Mione, I’m sure I’ll love it.” He gave her a toothy grin, which was interrupted with a chest rattling cough. He ducked his head into his elbow and smiled sheepishly this time.

“Aw Theo, that sounds awful. And is that the blanket I gave you for christmas?” She tugged it a little tighter around his face, allowing her fingers to trail his clammy cheek softly. Theo’s eyelids fluttered and he leaned into the touch.

“Mhmm,” he groaned, “it brings me comfort, reminds me of you.” His eyes snapped open, Hermione thought he might not have meant to say that last part out loud.

“I’m glad then.” She grinned at him and passed him the pastina, “I don’t want you standing too long so you should go rest.” She began to turn away but Theo’s fingers caught on hers handing him the tupperware.

“Go on a date with me,” he startled. He shook his head and color finally came to his cheeks, pale but there, “I mean, would you go on a date with me when I’m no longer sickly?” His eyes were brighter now, vulnerable. Hermione’s stomach did somersaults and her brain became static.

All she could do was nod.

***

Theo insisted Hermione allow him to walk her to their date, so she sat in her living room and stared at the small clock on the bookshelf. If she didn’t know better, she’d say it was broken, moving at sloth speed and holding her time with Theo hostage.

It was two minutes to five on a warm October Saturday. Hermione had opted for a creme colored floral maxi skirt and a silk front-tie quarter sleeve forest green top. She paired it with her favorite brown double breasted jacket and tan chelsea boots. Her favorite necklace from Ginny hung from her neck. She’d chosen a loose braided coronet for her hairstyle. She felt beautiful.

A soft pattern beat at the door and Hermione shot up, smoothing a hand over her front before approaching the front door. As the door creaked open it revealed Theo’s glowing smile. Hermione could’ve sworn his teeth sparkled like a cartoon prince. His curly dark brown hair fell in haphazardly handsome waves.

“You look absolutely lovely Hermione,” His eyes twinkled as he took in her appearance. Hermione’s stomach turned inside out in the best way. Theo always managed to make her feel like a girl again, giddy and lovestruck.

“Theo, you look so handsome,” Hermione replied, breathless.

“Thank you, love, are you ready to go?” He offered his elbow.

Hermione took it, eager to get going with this mysterious date. Theo wouldn’t tell her a word about what would occur, only that she would be “dazzled and hopelessly in love” by the end. That had earned him a soft smack to the ribs.

He steered her toward the street at a slow stroll, “We have to take a portkey to the location of the date, is that alright?” He asked gently, a flash of uncertainty crossed his face. How sweet, Hermione thought, he’s nervous.

She affirmed him immediately and he pulled out a pretty rose from the basket. “It’ll activate in a minute so grab on and we’ll be there.”

They stood in silence gripping the rose in a side alley by Hermione’s flat. Theo snorted when the silence went on too long, Hermione’s answering laugh was cut short by the whirling of portkey travel. Their landing was smooth and Hermione never released Theo’s elbow.

When the world stopped spinning, Hermione glanced around her to find the hills of Scotland, not far from Hogwarts. There was rumored to be a fairy pack that lived in this region. Hermione had always wanted to see the fairies but the conditions had to be just right, they had to feel safe.

Theo brought her a few steps forward and then pulled his wand out of his pocket and winked at her, “Revelio.” A shimmer of sparkles parted the air and revealed a beautiful picnic facing west where the sun would set over the mountains.

“Theo, this is brilliant,” Hermione dropped to her knees on the picnic blanket and inspected the food, it was obviously kept warm with a warming charm as heat emanated from the containers, it smelled delicious and looked… “did you make the food?”

Theo grinned, “With my own two hands, nothing but the best for the golden girl,” he nudged her shoulder with his hip. He knew she hated being called the golden girl but could never seem to yell at him for it. Maybe it had to do with the amount of reverie in his tone every time he said it.

“Sit down wolf-man, I want to try all this delicious smelling food.” Theo rolled his eyes as he dropped down and spread out on the blanket. They started in on the food and some date small talk.

Mostly recounting their weekends and going over favorites. Hermione’s favorite color, lilac, Theo’s, sage. Going over childhoods, Theo’s mother died when he was young and his father died in the final battle, Hermione’s family was tight knit until she obliviated them, now they don’t trust her. Touching on work, Theo’s pursuit of the shifting houses and Hermione’s inquiries into rights laws.

As they ate little tea cakes Theo painstakingly prepared, and proudly proclaimed, Hermione laid on her back and watched the sky as it blossomed purple and orange.

“Theo, what’s it like being in a pack?” She propped her head on her hand and turned to face him. Theo was on his back as well, arms propped behind his head, the picture of relaxation.

“It’s a natural urge. The pull to those like you and a rank that suits your character. I trust Draco as a leader and he trusts me as a second, it’s kind of a duty hardwired into your blood.” His brow furrowed as he considered his words.

“Maybe this is stupid,” Theo looked at her as if to say nothing she could ever say would be stupid, “but do you ever like it? Being a werewolf I mean?”

“Sometimes, it’s brought me things I wouldn’t otherwise have,” his eyes darted to Hermione where she’d resumed staring at the sunset, “my, uh, pack and stuff, and the power is exhilarating, when I’m not afraid I’m going to tear someone to shreds.” His eyes darkened and he threw an arm in the air as if to say c’est la vie.

“Does it scare you?” His voice was quiet.

“Never,” hers was certain and swift, “I trust you implicitly, I know you’d never hurt me.” Theo’s eyes flashed cyan. Betas have cyan colored eyes. Hermione filed this piece of information away.

“I don’t think I physically could, Hermione, you’ve got me utterly bewitched.” His smirk was a mere mask over the vulnerability of his statement.

Hermione sat up then, eyes searching his for something she must’ve found, because the next moment her mouth was hovering centimeters from his and her eyes questioning. Theo answered by gently pressing his lips against her velvet ones. The kiss was sweet as butter melting into a muffin, all fluttering eyelids and subtle passes of their tongues on bottom lips. Comforting arms encircled waists and wandering hands found purchase on chins and tangled in hair.

The bliss of the moment was enhanced only by the answering gasp of breath Hermione released upon opening her eyes and finding little glowing bodies inspecting their basket and playing with the curls of each of their hair. Fairies.

Hermione held up a small piece of bread and fluttering fingers snatched it from her, only to hum happily and zip up to her cheek and kiss her. The fairy’s touch was like being tucked into bed, pure and warm.

They spent the remainder of their evening observing their ethereal dinner guests, their soft pink light rivaling the newly risen stars in the sky, and pressing chaste, exuberant kisses to one another’s lips, faces, necks, simply because they could.

________________________________________________

hermione and theo are getting a headstart, maybe draco will get his shit together soon ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

#harry potter #draco malfoy #draco x hermione #dramione #hermione granger #draco x hermione x theo #dreomione

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sakuramidnight15 · 23 days

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-RSA OC Information-

[Gacha Life 2 Ver. Below]

Name: Vendetta Estée

(Japanese: ヴェンデッタエスティ)

Romaji: Vu~endetta esuti

Quote: "It appears that a little cutie is standing here before me~ How should I greet you, hmm~?"

V/A: Ito Shizuka (Japanese)

Gender: Female

Age: 18

Birthday: February 14

Star Sign: Aquarius

Eye Color: Wine Red

Hair Color: Vanilla Blonde

Height: 174 cm

Race: Human

Homeland: Springfield Village (The first country in the island of enchantment)

Family: Unnamed Father

Unnamed Biological Mother

Unnamed Step-mothers (Few may not be alive)

Unnamed Twin Brother

Unnamed Half-Brothers (Only two are alive)

Unnamed Half-Sisters (Only one is alive)

Unknown Relatives (Some might be dead)

_______________________________________

School Status and Fun Facts

Dorm: TBA (If There's RSA Canon Dorms in the game)

School Year: Third

Class: 3-A (Same Class with Venomia, Aine, Lucia and Hei-Ran)

Occupation: Student

Perfume Model (On magazine)

Hitwoman/Assassin

Club: N/A

Best Subject: Potions, Ancient Ruins, P.E.

Dominant Hand: Ambidextrous

Favorite Color: Black, Dark Red, Beige Pink, and Gold

Favorite Food: Morefully any type of food served (Mostly, she isn't picky), German Food (Mostly), Pasta (Various kinds), Red Velvet (Mostly), Grilled Meat, Wine or Champagne (Various), Vegetables Salad (with cooking oil), Pomegranates,

Least Favorite Food: Anything inedible, Stale Food, Too much Sweets (Mostly), Lime grapes (Mostly), Fish Stew, Goat Flesh, Food with too much Vinegar, Meat with Bones (Especially with Fish),

Likes: Anything Floral-like, The latest trend at the mall (Mostly), Perfume (Mostly), Her Blood-related Family Members (Mostly, wouldn't show it), Her Gang (Mostly), Collecting Make-up, Edgar Allan Poe's writings, Buying Weapons (Mostly, it's guns), Her skills as a hitwoman (Mostly as a bragging joke a bit),

Dislikes: Missing the mall's sales, Dealing with Blonde Brats (Can be anyone, if they are to her dislikes), Missing important information, Her Father (Mostly, to pitying), Sudden Endangerment (Mostly), Losing (Mostly, she'll never accept it), Dishes to her dislikes, Dealing with her half siblings (Well most of them not alive anymore) Her Eldest Half-Brother (...no details),

Hobbies: Floral-like, Shopping (Mostly), Collecting Perfumes, Collecting Cosmetics, Reading Edgar Allan Poe's Creations, The Gossip or Debriefing Time (Mostly), Being with her Gang (Mostly on teasing), Hearing Rumor's, Buying Weapons (Mostly),

Talents: Debate Skills, Shooting Skills (Various), Hitwoman/Assassin Skills, Sly Remarks, Self-Defense (Slight Brutal), High Physical Defense, Mind Breaker, Seduction, Poisonous/Venomous Dugs, Blood Butterflies,

Nicknames: Vennie or Detta (From her family and friends)

Vendetta-senpai or Estée-senpai (From the freshmen students)

Vena (From her twin brother and mother)

Sister or Big Sis (From her half-siblings, well only who are close to her)

Ven (From Hei-ran and Elliot)

Detty (From Ismene, Xander, and Rainier)

Other Nicknames:

Rose of Estée Family (By rumors')

Mistress (From Servants)

_______________________________________

Appearance and Personality

Appearance: Vendetta has an average yet feminine body-type figure from a normal point of view, however it appears is that it can be a bit muscular due to training sessions she held whenever she's at the gym or outdoor sparring session. She has long yet very curly vanilla colored hair to which it reaches to the ground at the bottom of her boot heels, which somehow is managing the length of her growing hair without struggling to do and has wine red colored eyes which it can alluring but slightly off-putting to anyone who sees it. Vendetta has a complicated personality but however is self-managed of her limits whenever she interacts with others than her companions.

Personality: Born throughout the wealthy streets of Springfield, later to say one of its undergrounding parts of its country veiled in the set of an elegant garden. Let's just say that her entire family is somehow not worth of mentioning to anyone of who ever speaks regarding to her background, especially towards her father and half-siblings, a sheer soul is never once alive in her grounds. One of the cruelest of all man alive of obedience and loyalty, many were subjected to will without further a do notice, thus that is the clan that many had never interfered with. Mentioning of getting much of a favored towards the royal family something worth mentioning but not much of an interest of choice.

At a young age, well born as one of the few daughters within the family while the rest were only male heirs onto battle of the position of leader. She never learned much of her values aside from eternal worship and wealth, though except what kept there was her mother and twin brother. Though such unfortunate souls in such a predicament, of those endless days and nights were nothing more than silent sessions of the heir's lineage or of someone's son to be worthy of being the father's favorite child. Little by surprise, she had managed to gained her father's eyes to be of valued worth due to taking her twin's place in those nights of fears. Let's just say her survival impacted there, it took rather several or more lives and sparring little of her kin, causing results to be little but progression.

Did she held her humanity locked in afterwards? But no. Of course not. If regarding of her half-siblings more fully her half-brothers and couple of more, they were more of pests than threats... but that's been settled for, in the rest of eternally.

Vendetta's main yet current personality in the present timeline is somehow more matured and well-mannered through the speaking of her own name, not her valued gains of attention. By lady-like by posture, elegant by beauty, it truly shows her defined of colors of she had gained through her many years within her family walls and various connections. Although many who had seen her had been more on falling of what mattered on the outside but is more of attracting to gain of what's only profiting towards her goals. Nothing else on the sidelines that matters to her, except to what she had in the past and present is what she had survived for is enough to make her reasons to live longer than hell itself... that alone is enough for her humanity to be retained for.

Despite upholding elegance within appearance to wherever place that catches her eye of interest, she seems more of a fellow tease with her friend-group. Especially towards her fellow rifitian humans and other fellow races who had been scouted to the school from the other rift countries, which makes it to perk up with her fellow communication skills to test of any riftian she sees, to which she seems to satisfy herself with results. Although she can be a prying one when it comes to certain topics, but can be resulted as a playful-like by gesture in the end of the conversation. Thus resulting to have a playful yet friendly conversation aside from other people around her, though she holds a sister-like role within her group.

If false flattery is such a motto in her name shake, then its a bet to not to dive further of her layers of her well-being, beauty is such a common disease if you're in a battle of a woman that she knows too well than being sly. Vendetta knows how to keep her femininity intact as to be viewed as a fragile woman, which views to keep both personality and appearance in balance to become the ideal yet a target for preys at the same time, however delicate as a feminine wild were known to be terrible existence, then this young woman knows how to ruin one's vitality without going an inch. For her love of entertainment yet her will-keep of surviving, but all of that was kept underneath in a flowerily like appearance that was born through venom.

In her view set, there were only decorations for safekeeping. Her reasons not to be belittled with, unless you want to be one. Then serving it with such grace but be intoxicating to breathe for the more you follow her.

Desires can be fulfilling, although not that it comes with instincts. Underneath shades of what had been dyed for, well it's not like she can do much more than wishing more than what her family had offered for, can it?

_______________________________________

Trivia

-The name 'Vendetta' spelling and all, from Italian, in which it means "revenge." It ultimately traces to the Latin verb vindicta, of the same meaning. While her surname 'Estée' star; hidden. A quirky take on the long-established Estelle, Estee is a French feminine name sure to leave beholders mystified.

-She's based on Roxana Agrece from the manhwa series called 'How to Protect the Heroine’s Older Brother'. Though their actions seems to be similar in the series.

-Has a habit of shopping for the latest trends in Springfield. Flowers, make-up and perfumes seems to be her top-notch collecting.

-To hide her identity of her family name, she works as a model for perfume for local magazines.

-Is mostly Ismene's target for teasing, to which the both girls seemed to hold their understanding point of view regarding towards their issues against to their families.

-Seems to be close with Hei-Ran, since both girls were born through higher-up of social status and reputations.

-Xander often babysits her due to the trouble she'll create, thus it somehow annoyed Vendetta a bit.

-She and Rainier are fellow sparring partners since they held connections, especially underground business.

-Elliot often bickers with her a few times when it comes to defensive altitudes in classes, thus making both sides competitive and a bit aggressive towards each other.

-Was often a target, especially in her family but however she took matters into her own hands, best not to know what had been settled for them.

-She seems to find Harper a very interesting companion, to which she secretly wants to have a conversation with the white-haired individual, seems to know that Westyn's group involved with the conflict.

-Is particular interested in the other races within the other countries. Meaning to say that she wanted to establish a proper communication with them, especially the half-myths within her homeland.

-Seems to have hidden connections to the SIDC, without her family and father noticing.

-Is fluent in French and Dutch, studied them out of habit.

-Seems to be close with her mother and twin brother, who were the only blood-related family alive within the clan. They were her reason for living but her stained humanity of their family's name.

-Due to her past upbringing, she was born within an underground yet feared family but however as one of the illegitimate children. As one of them, they were either trained under the cruelty of their father in order to survive or become one within their family name. Vendetta then decided to take her twin brother's place to join in the training, resulting her to encounter situations that costed her sanity to remained still but resulted into a surprising outcome turning her for what she is in the present timeline.

-Is close to her surviving half-siblings while the rest were disposed of including their other family members, except for one older sibling who is considered to be the eldest son in her family and is also the potential heir next in line for the heritage in the future. Though it is revealed that Vendetta had a deep grudge against him considering the fact that they were in fact their father's favored children after revealing her valued worth of her power, but later to annoyed the latter deep down.

-Her voice sounds mostly to what fits her personality, however it the tone remains the same whenever her malicious side is shown but is still focus and balanced. Which is why I chose Ito Shizuka to be her voice actor.

-.....seems to have a dislike for specific blonde people, wouldn't hesitate to create a small yet out of control mayhem.

-Collects a lot of weapons, her personal maid assists her in her shopping.

_______________________________________

SURPRISED- THAT I'M ALIVE-

#mc #oc #twisted wonderland #disney twisted wonderland #gacha games #gacha life 2 #royal sword academy #rsa #vendetta estée #venn #bio #character information

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hobiebrownismygod · 5 months

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apologies if I’m hitting you with the spam beam, it’s just that I wanna share my OC, but it’s hard translating it into a fanfic. Anyways, here’s some more of my OC.

So Pollie is in the kitchen, slicing away at some fruits and putting them in a bowl. Miguel shows up, and she’s just standing there like “you here to blab about some multiverse canon event stuff?” and but Miguel has trouble explaining why he’s actually there, so he dodges the question, and asks what she’s doing. Pollie shows him the fruit salad she’s making for the “Spider-Band” because they’re coming over to visit later, and says that he’s welcome to help. She then starts slicing peaches, and Miguel asks what the weird rock in the peach is, and so she explains that it’s the pit, which is holds the seed that helps grow a new peach tree. Miguel then tells her that fruit in his dimension don’t have seeds or pits because they’re artificially created. Pollie is absolutely shell shocked, and she tells him to stay for lunch, and that he should at least try something that’s not cafeteria or lab grown.

Miguel reluctantly stays, and when the spider ban shows up, the teens are shook when Miguel of all people is sitting in a patchwork chair, attempting to read a magazine while Pollie made lunch in the kitchen.

Pollie makes a platter of spring rolls for lunch, stuffed with fresh vegetables, shrimp, and noodles, with a stack of dipping sauce containers so that none of them end up sharing germs. She reminded them that she made fruit salad beforehand, and they can have some after they let their stomachs settle after lunch.

After watching a little bit of television, Pollie came in with a big bowl of fruit salad, which had apples, pears, peaches, cherries, oranges, pineapple, papaya, honeydew, watermelon, strawberries, raspberries, blackberries, blueberries, green and red grapes, and some kiwi, topped with a dressing made from lemon juice, lime juice, and honey. It was kept in the fridge to keep cool, and was spooned into separate bowls.

And so they just watched tv while eating fruit salad.

AWWWWW

HOW DOES SHE FIND IT IN HER TO BE SO SWEET TO EVERYONE INCLUDING MIGUEL 😭

she’s quite literally an angel

spider-angel

she’s the MOTHER OF THE MULTIVERSE

SPIDER MOM

I’d like to see her being a mom to Ben Reilly and Jess too and seeing their reactions 😭 Ben would be an absolute child and I think Jess would like being the one taken care of for a change

POLLIE HELPING JESS OUT IN HER THIRD TRIMESTER?? BABYSITTING JESSES BABY??

I’m in love

#Also fruit salad is amazing #Props to pollie for making it for the spiderband #Now here’s a question #What movie or show would pollie and Miguel watch together?#The guy doesn’t seem like he watched tv #Like at all #idk #atsv #[silvia’s asks]

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serendipiadorm · 2 years

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Serendipia Student Profile ~ Ambrosé Merlot

Theme song to listen to while reading ^^

Name: Ambrosé Merlot

Real Name: Dionysus

Gender: Male

Age: 21 (3,500+)

Species: Leopard Beastman (Olympic God)

Birthday: 12/25

Zodiac: Capricorn

Height: 278cm/9ft'1in

Orientation: Omnisexual

Twist Of Dionysus from the video game Hades

Eye Color: Violet

Hair Color: Dark Violet

Homeland: Mount Olympus

Dorm: Serendipia

School Year: 3rd/Junior

Occupation: Underwear & Swimwear Model,Wine Enthusiast & Critic (God of Wine and Insanity)

Club: Myth & Folk Creature Club

Best Subject: Magical History & Potion Making

Dominant Hand: Left

Favorite Food: Beef Stew in Red Wine Sauce

Least Favorite Food: Anything that Doesn't Taste Well with Wine

Dislikes: By the Rules People,Stubborn People,Sappy Drunks,Family Get to Togethers,Empty Drink Cup,Wine Stores closed on Sunday,The Pain of Finding Pants to fit his large hips/thighs

Hobby: Mini Grape Growing,Wine Collecting,Reading Tabloid Magazines,Leg Stretching,Attending Parties,Watching Bad Romantic movies

Talents: Wine Tasting,History Knowledge,Dancing,Modeling,Smooth Talking,Flirtation,Potion Mixing,Track Running,Painting

Elemental Magic: Flora/Void

Unique Magic: He has many that would be considered this. One he is willing to reveal, Cup of Mad Dance - Whenever he brews his own potion and includes grapes into it if a mortal drinks it they become wild with the need to dance til the potion sweats out of their body.

OC’s Lore Summary: The God of Wine's interest in mortal fun has led him to disguise himself as a student at a college with some very chaotic fun happening or he can make it happen. Living the life of a beastman who is a model and wine blogger. As this form he is known in his line of work for his height and thick thighs that are eye-catching. Often drinking wine that he has made looks like water or juice to not draw attention.

Personality: High on Life,he is always thinking positive and happy thoughts. Always have a mildly drunk looking smile on his face when greeting others. Some say it's hard to pinpoint his personality and he may be hiding something crazy…which is true.

Picrew is inaccurate please refer to sprites and draw art if any this just for reference.

Fun Facts: Not the 1st time he has appeared in the mortal world to have fun and usually leaves a trail of merriment,people he had one nighters with thinking about him,a wine company missing his business,and chaos behind when he returns home…

🍷

If he finds you good-looking and that is often mostly everything he says to you is a flirt or him trying to invite you to be his party date which still includes flirting.

🍷

He despises mortal rules that prevent his fun and usually will break them in order to. However he will give mortals who wish to join him the choice to or not. He finds people who bend the rules to be more fun and he likes fun so friends.

🍷

Is an incredible party partner if you need one. He is a great dancer and looks good in suits to barely anything. He can strike up conversations and make things lively. If things get too boring for him though he might add a bit of spice to the party in his chaotic way.

🍷

Loves grapes so anything grape tasting,aesthetics,or scented he will love as gifts. He also collects wine mostly red ones and empty great condition wine bottles for aesthetics. He has a less know thing for sandals more so wrap ones that go up his long legs as well as knee high wear.

🍷

Despite being in Serendipia he is not nocturnal as he technically doesn't need to sleep so he flexible. He picked it cause of the parties normally thrown with permisson. He can be spotted at Scarabia parties too during the day. He also can be found in Savanaclaw running the track or doing leg exercises in the most shortest shorts that are questionable to be on a man as thick as he on the bottom.

#twst fandorm #serendipia #twst oc #twisted wonderland oc #oc profile #ambrose #god oc #minor story character

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everyrock-inthe-rockbox · 2 years

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The Agates

Fantastic news this week, gang! Courtesey of Our Blessed Benefactor, we have three, count ‘em, THREE new additions to the collection.

Agates have the range, darling. These three stones, each with their own secret talent to share, demonstrate the elegant diversity of their family name.

First on stage, we have Cluster Grape Agate: Star of another recent post here at the studio. Reviews raved, “rocks I want to EAT”

Well, everybody, now I have my very own Eating Him Agate. Found in Andestite pillow lava, Grape Agate grows in the vitreols of igneous rocks, and must be removed with a gentle hand and a fine, finessed brush.

^Here pictured against some very fitting grape vines.

Next act: Enhydro Agate. Her brilliant orange coloring suggests she’s also a Classic Carnelian.

Within this stones walls hides a pocket of water, ancient as the rock she came with. Glossy as any magazine cover, this stone is ready for the silver screen!

And our grand finale: The delicate Iris Agate. Carved into an iridescent butterfly cabochon, she’s a natural star. held to a lavalamp- or a stagelight- a thin gossimer rainbow shimmers through her opacity.

youtube

This delicate beauty and her cousins illustrate the variety even a single mineral type can have, an how beautiful that diversity can be. Round of applause for tonight’s act: Agates!

#agates #enhydro #grape agate #iris agate #stones #rocks #geology #carnelian #iridescent agate #rainbow agate #Blessed Benefactor #@ramabear #LOOK AT THEM THEY'RE SO PRETTY #it's RAINBOW in the SUN

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battyaboutbooksreviews · 7 months

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🦇 Courting Samira Book Review 🦇

❝ I didn’t want my existence to rest on what everyone else thought about me or wanted for me. I wondered how long I had been this way: not really moving forward but sideways. ❞

❓ #QOTD What trait (personality-wise or physical) is a hard No during first dates? ❓ 🦇 As a 27-year-old Muslim girl living at home, Samira Abdel-Aziz is no stranger to arranged matches; first dates under the supervision of both sets of parents. As a fan of rom-coms, Samira knows it's unlike that her very own Palestinian Muslim Westley will come and sweep her off her feet, but a girl can dream. At least, it was dreaming until she meets Menem; gorgeous, charming, sweet...and the brother of her cousin's husband-to-be. Between work at a bridal magazine, helping her borderline Bridezilla cousin with the wedding, and officially courting Menem, it all feels like too much. Can Samira find her personal happily ever...and the truth about herself in the process?

💜 Subhan Allah, a book that finally speaks to the realities of growing up in a moderately traditional Muslim household (let alone a Palestinian one!!). I've read quite a few books featuring Muslim main characters, but this is the first that captured the authenticity. Samira endures arranged matches, the pressures of meeting parental expectations, and the stressors of singledom (as if our stories aren't complete until we're married). All my favorite, delicious Palestinian delicacies are mentioned (Samira, I feel you, wrapping warak dawali / stuffed grape leaves is HARD). I adored the comparison between Jane Austen / regency era England courtships and Samira's courtships to make the concept easy to understand (I've seen a few people tag this with the "arranged marriage" trope, and that's inaccurate). Much of Samira's internal dialogue is witty and fun, making her easy to empathize with. I'm also grateful for the RANGE of female Muslim characters portrayed in this book, from pious to less traditional to a little bit wild (mild by usual standards, trust me). It was also a joy to see a few familiar names (my mother's, brothers, aunt's...to name a few). I hope this story is a glimpse into Palestinian, Muslim, and Arab cultures to those who read it!

🦇 Unfortunately, the pacing really dragged. None of the plot points felt fully fleshed out. Samira's internal dialogue contains too many fleeting or repetitive thoughts to really give the story juice. A lot of the internal conflict she experiences lacks emotional depth. Is she feeling the pressure to meet potential matches because she's getting older (her cousin is getting married, which usually encourages family members to put pressure on the singles)? Does marrying a friend, even for a minute, seem like a good idea because it's easy; because she knows him? Despite her mixed emotions, we don't really feel the tension or stress she's experiencing. There's no real spark of chemistry between the man she's courting (or Samira and her friend) either, which is perhaps the most frustrating. Without that chemistry, the "love triangle" trope falls flat. The subplot of Samira realizing she wants to become a photographer, not a writer, is the only piece of her character that exists outside anything wedding-related, but there's no real payout there. I thought, and hoped, that would be the meat of the story; that Samira would realize she doesn't need to get engaged or married in any rush when she can focus on her own growth instead. The ending feels rushed and unnatural when Samira could have done the unexpected. Despite inching toward 30, Samira also comes off as juvenile (which I've seen some people say "perhaps that has to do with the culture" in reviews, which HURTS).

🦇 Recommended to anyone looking for a light rom-com (with a few dashes of friends-to-lovers potential and meddling besties). Definitely ideal for fans of Bridget Jones's Diary.

✨ The Vibes ✨ ☪️ Contemporary Romance ☪️ Muslim & Palestinian MC ☪️ Love Triangle ☪️ Jane Austen / The Princess Bride References ☪️ Arranged Matches (NOT Marriage)

🦇 Major thanks to the author @amalmdawad and publisher @harperviabooks for providing an ARC of this book via Netgalley. 🥰 This does not affect my opinion regarding the book.

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minorhoursmagazine · 1 year

Text

Issue 29, containing: Housekeeping (Nondiagetic), An Interesting Method for Skimming Wax, Some Advice for Those Seeking the Northwest Passage, A Partial Guide to Avoiding Casual Poisonings, Letters, Commonplaces, &c.

------------------------------

SOME EDITORIAL NOTES

A new year, and here we are. Welcome. There's fresh bread from the oven, with which I have just eaten a slathering of local maple butter, and with which I will later make a deeply hedonistic grilled cheese.

I will attempt to keep my concentration on the writing of these articles, rather than the promise of dairy yet to come.

------------------------------

HOUSEKEEPING (NONDIAGETIC)

I sometimes think about the inaccuracy of the subtitle of this microzine-- which, if you'd rather not stare too closely at the miniature text in the header, reads in part:

"a newsletter of miscellany, fiction, and art"

(I am omitting my name from the subtitle, as, if I had my druthers, I would not list a name at all, but rather credit this whole venture to an anonymous collective of Editors bravely trying to rein in an errant essayist who seems hellbent on style over substance.)

(Also I have been reliably informed that I should, quote, "get over it.")

Of the numerous things currently annoying me about the subtitle, above and beyond naming conventions, there is also the use of the terms "newsletter," "fiction," and "art."

("Miscellany" may survive the cull, because it is both accurate and also a pleasant word to say.)

(Miscellany. Mys-cell-aye-nie. It looks like Arkham might loom behind it while the scent of salt and cold brine inexorably rises in a grey and creeping mist.)

"Newsletter" is doesn't feel right, though I haven't quite determined what might be closer. "Fiction," regardless of the actual content of some of these articles, doesn't feel accurate either. And "art," even assuming a gentle reader might deem my photographs as such, was always a stretch.

And so while the header remains as it is for the moment, a change is on the wind. I've been spending an even greater amount of time than usual reading through the older magazines and publications that The Minor Hours seeks to emulate, and, to the Editors' horror, I must confess that the feral urge to use the word "diuerse" grows stronger by the day.

------------------------------

AN INTERESTING METHOD FOR SKIMMING WAX

As long-time readers may recall, part of my overall journey toward kitchen witchery and experimental archaeology has involved finding and working out the recipes behind historical foods, cosmetics, and home goods.

The most recent of these that exist within the "fairly complete now, thank you" category is the recipe I've worked out for a pomatum suitable for the lips, variants of which I've found in several old scanned and OCR'd texts, with the mid-1600s being the earliest occurrence so far (and somehow involving-- grapes?) and the latest appearing in and around the 1710s.

I would share that recipe but, sadly, I have done so elsewhere; instead, let me share a stranger revelation: the matter of wax, and its cleanup.

One batch of this pomatum requires an ounce of beeswax. I have lately been made aware that beeswax is not a grease, and therefore dish soap has no power over it; it is also not a fat, but woe be to those who seek to pour it down a drain, lest it solidify just as much as a fat might when cooled.

Following the recommendations of those who have come before me in the modern age, I have instead tried to boil the wax off of whatever objects they come in contact with. This works-- to a degree. Since the wax does not magically disappear, I can at best only transfer the wax from one object (my pomatum-making tools) to another (the large pot I found at the thrift store and am sacrificing for the greater good to the wax gods).

There is, however, an intermediary step: skimming.

As the wax melts in the boiling pot, it leaves its moorings and floats to the top of the heated water. From there, a small mesh strainer, as one would use to hoist out a dumpling or, indeed, skim the top of some liquid creation, can be used in a nice repetitive manner to remove the majority of the melted wax.

--Or.

I found, as I skimmed, that I wasn't truly gathering everything. I knew this to be the case because using the strainer was actually my second attempt at collecting wax. The first was the slow but incredibly effective method I found while hunting around to begin with: that of the Cold Metal Spoon.

Take a metal spoon and, in its bowl, set an ice cube (or however many should fit in it). The metal now instantly chilled, draw the back of the spoon across the top of the hot, waxy water. The wax, hitting the cold spoon, will immediately cool and cling to the metal, allowing you to collect far more wax that the mesh strainer managed.

As a demonstration, behold:

Fig. 1. The back of an as-yet-unwaxed spoon.

Fig. 2. Spoon avec ice.

Fig. 3. Besmirched!

Fig. 4. The lady, half revealed.

I am, overall, extremely pleased with this method, and only seek now to find a significantly larger metal ladle.

------------------------------

SOME ADVICE FOR THOSE SEEKING THE NORTHWEST PASSAGE

Pack a compass.*

* While the pointing Hand of Franklin† has been listed under "Preferred Equipment," it will not be available for the foreseeable future.‡

† No note was made of the properties of the non-capitalized hand of Franklin, and it is therefore excluded from these pages.

‡ This is largely because the body of John Franklin§ is also not available for the foreseeable future.

§ Further, it should be made clear that the Hand of Franklin, regardless of its present location, would be contaminated with lead, botulism, and possibly toothmarks, none of which have been found to be reliable aids to navigation.

------------------------------

A PARTIAL GUIDE TO AVOIDING CASUAL POISONINGS

With the success of the lip pomatum, I've found myself eager to explore historical recipes further. This leads, unfortunately, to two additional concerns: (1) determining the modern-day equivalent of various ingredients, and (2) ensuring that those same ingredients are not, in fact, poisonous.

[Interestingly, the tertiary concern of "is it legal to seek out or possess these ingredients" does not appear to have made this list. -Eds.]

Even the pomatum itself required some of this research.

Fig. 5. A recipe containing two bad ideas and one very good way to explode a fine mist of wax over one's entire kitchen.

Of the bad ideas, let it be said that:

Fresh butter was an English addition to this receipt. The original French listed sweet almond oil, which contains significantly less likelihood of poisoning the users of the pomatum through molds, bacteria, and the general horror of applying butter to one's face.

Orcanet required some study, but revealed itself to be an older spelling of alkanet, or what we now might purchase under the name alkanet root, Alkanna tinctoria, or ratan jot. While it is a popular colorant for the makers of "natural" cosmetics, there is some concern regarding what happens to the livers of people who ingest it, and it therefore seems unwise to include in a lip balm.

(Hilariously, the receipt itself only lists orcanet as necessary for thickening-- and assuming that that was the case, I replaced it with powdered arrowroot and went about my business. However, in researching alkanet, I didn't see any particular mention of thickening properties... but I did see that while in alkaline solutions, alkanet turns blue, in acidic solutions -- such as any that might contain orange-flower water and sweet almond oil -- it turns a lovely shade of crimson.)

(But it was included in this receipt only, of course, for thickening.)

Of the good way to explode one's kitchen, let it be said:

An important lesson can be learned regarding the application of room-temperature hydrosols to a wax-and-oil mix heated to somewhere above 145 degrees Fahrenheit.

The lesson is "don't."

------------------------------

LETTERS

Received by the Magazine via a Dream, Probably, "On the Subject of Mountains":

To the Editors:

While we acknowledge your appropriate appreciation of our regality [Issue 28, "Regarding Mountains" - Eds.], we wish you to know that we of course hold a deep interest in the termination of human lives. We merely do not feel the need to be as obvious about it as our young neighbors to the east. Murder is folded into our orogeny. We cordially invite you to visit again any time to explore further.

Sincerely,

The White Mountains

******

From the Editors, to The White Mountains, "We Had to Look Up the Word 'Orogeny'":

The Editors would like to humbly, and from a distance, like to apologize for continuing to think of you as the Green Mountains, due to the unfortunate necessities of nomenclature and the observances of faith required by certain large and bloodthirsty deities previously referenced.

Having now completed the niceties, we would also like to relate that we have been reliably informed that our mountains are stronger, more shredded, and could kick all your asses if you were inclined to meet in the parking lot after school.

We trust that this letter meets you in good health and with kind regards, -The Editors

******

Received by the Magazine through Diuerse Worrying Methods, "As It Pertains to Sleeping in New Places":

Dear Editors:

Please accept our apologies re: the moving of everything to the Wrong Place. [Issue 28, "Sleeping in New Places" - Eds.] AirBnB guests keep moving things, and we hate it. Our malevolence is restricted only to them, not to guests of the family.

Telekinetically yours,

The Ghosts of the House

******

From the Editors, to The Ghosts of the House, "Ghost Are Often Memories, Accessed in Ways Both Strange and Humbling":

The Editors have cause to remember other guests in the House-- of which one, more kin to you than the others, decided to wander to the familial cemetery to visit a little while with the dead. It was dark out, and the land rolling underfoot, and they declined a lantern for the way.

Being of a narrative inclination, this struck the Editors unwise; being sadly entrenched in a world that rarely requires the services of the genre-savvy, we can only assume that that which returned from the graves matched in all particulars the person who had left.

It is wise, sometimes, to let the ghosts have their way with things, and to have a healthy respect for howsoever they might wish to conduct their business. To that end the Editors would like to assure the Ghosts of the House that they felt as welcome as any traveler could hope, and that they very definitely won't report any strange activities their Kin might engage in of a ghost-like or alternately-revenant nature.

------------------------------

COMMONPLACES

From Jessica Hayworth, "story about a lake I did recently":

>>Woman: A LAKE OPENED UP INSIDE MY CHEST. >> Woman: I THOUGHT WOW, THAT'S NEW. NEVER HAD A BODY OF WATER IN ME BEFORE.

******

From Jessica Hayworth, "story about a lake I did recently":

>>Interviewer: DID YOU HAVE TO INVITE IT INSIDE? >>Woman: I DON'T THINK A LAKE ASKS PERMISSION. >>Interviewer: [laughing] NO. NO IT PROBABLY DOESN'T. >>Woman: [laughing] IMAGINE THAT. >>Both: "HELLO I AM YOUR LAKE. I HAVE ALWAYS BEEN YOUR LAKE. >>Both: "OPEN UP PLEASE. OPEN." >>Both: "OPEN SESAME."

------------------------------

ANNOUNCEMENTS

I'm going over-long as it is, but it should be noted that there are New Tiers on the Patreon, which I will probably talk about at some point. I make no promises as to when, however, because time is a lie.

Welcome to 2023. I'm going to go make a grilled cheese.

******

If you would like to write a letter to be produced/answered in the magazine, please email me at [email protected] with the subject line:

Letter to the Magazine: [subject of letter as you would like to see it printed]

If you wish the letter to be anonymous or under a nom de plume, please state so in the body of the email; similarly, if you'd rather not be printed at all, please also state so in the body of the email. It will otherwise be assumed that mail sent to that address is intended for print.

Alternately, commenting on the Patreon post will get you a similar result, with much less fuss.

******

As always, you can find me at my regular website, katherinecrighton.com, or sometimes via twitter, at @c_katherine.

To support the magazine and get it delivered directly to your inbox, join the Patreon.

-Until next week, be safe.

#the minor hours and small thoughts magazine #katherine crighton #january 1 2023

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kayohisei · 1 year

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Shiori Sei-Magazine Mockup Birthday: Janurary 4 Favorite Animal: Mouse Favorite Food: Grapes Recent Worries: The new strain of peas that I'm testing aren't growing well.

on the aisle=based off actual bridal magazine down the aisle

june=june bride

20=there's 20 amino acids

bellery=baellery

she made her custom lipstick herself actually

med kit does not follow conventional code use at your own risk

scientific tests drawn are ph tests but she has more in there i jsut got tired

the seed box is emptied before she goes out every time and the blob on the side is her pet hamster maxmillion von stutenburg

#oc #drn #danganronpa negative #drawpile #digital art #art #digital #sei #kayo's actually drawing #magazine cover #mockup #inventory check

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rockislandadultreads · 2 years

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Book Recommendations: More Upbeat and Quirky Titles

The One Hundred Years of Lenni and Margot by Marianne Cronin

An extraordinary friendship. A lifetime of stories. Their last one begins here. Life is short. No-one knows that better than seventeen-year-old Lenni living on the terminal ward. But as she is about to learn, it's not only what you make of life that matters, but who you share it with. Dodging doctor's orders, she joins an art class where she bumps into fellow patient Margot, a rebel-hearted eighty-three-year-old from the next ward. Their bond is instant as they realize that together they have lived an astonishing one hundred years. To celebrate their shared century, they decide to paint their life stories: of growing old and staying young, of giving joy, of receiving kindness, of losing love, of finding the person who is everything. As their extraordinary friendship deepens, it becomes vividly clear that life is not done with Lenni and Margot yet.

Iona Iverson’s Rules for Commuting by Clare Pooley

Every day Iona, a larger-than-life magazine advice columnist, travels the ten stops from Hampton Court to Waterloo Station by train, accompanied by her dog, Lulu. Every day she sees the same people, whom she knows only by nickname: Impossibly-Pretty-Constant-Reader and Terribly-Lonely-Teenager. Of course, they never speak. Seasoned commuters never do. Then one morning, the man she calls Smart-But-Sexist-Manspreader chokes on a grape right in front of her. He'd have died were it not for the timely intervention of Sanjay, a nurse, who gives him the Heimlich maneuver. This single event starts a chain reaction, and an eclectic group of people with almost nothing in common except their commute discover that a chance encounter can blossom into much more. It turns out that talking to strangers can teach you about the world around you - and even more about yourself.

Surprise Me by Sophie Kinsella

After being together for ten years, Sylvie and Dan have all the trimmings of a happy life and marriage; they have a comfortable home, fulfilling jobs, beautiful twin girls, and communicate so seamlessly, they finish each other’s sentences. However, a trip to the doctor reveals they could live another 68 years together… and panic sets in. They never expected ‘until death do us part’ to mean seven decades. In the name of marriage survival, they quickly concoct a plan to keep their relationship fresh and exciting: they will create little surprises for each other so that their (extended) years together will never become boring. But in their pursuit to execute Project Surprise Me, mishaps arise and secrets are uncovered that start to threaten the very foundation of their unshakeable bond. When a scandal from the past is revealed that questions some important untold truths, they begin to wonder if they ever really knew each other after all…

The Helpline by Katherine Collette

Germaine Johnson may not be all that good with people, but she’s great with numbers. Unfortunately, as she discovers after the incident at Wallace Insurance, there are very few openings these days for senior mathematicians. Then her cousin gets her a job at the council. On the Senior Citizens Helpline. It’s not the resume entry Germaine wanted - but it turns out Mayor Verity Bainbridge has something more interesting in mind for her. A secret project involving the troublemakers at the senior citizens centre and their feud with the golf club next door. Which is run by the strangely attractive Don Thomas. Don and the mayor want the seniors closed down. Germaine wants what Don and the mayor want. But when she’s forced to get to know the ‘troublemakers’ - things get more complicated.

#fiction #to read #tbr #TBR pile #booklr #library books #reading recommendations #book recs #book recommendations

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this-geek · 7 hours

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Hello hello hello! For the weird writing questions: numbers 7, 35 and 40! :)

Hey hey, these are so fun. Thank you for asking them!

7. What is your deepest joy about writing?

Representation. That someone could see themselves in my writing, my words and feel joy.

35. What’s your favorite writing rule to smash into smithereens?

I guess the new speaker new line rule. Sometimes it's nice for an action tag to come before rather than after all the time.

40. Please share a poem with me, I need it.

OK, I'm guessing this means an existing poem because my own poetry is...lacking. I have several favourite poets and you would be correct in assuming they are Scottish. I couldn't decide my favourite so have multiple.

Valentine by Carol Ann Duffy

Not a red rose or a satin heart.

I give you an onion.

It is a moon wrapped in brown paper.

It promises light

like the careful undressing of love.

Here.

It will blind you with tears

like a lover.

It will make your reflection

a wobbling photo of grief.

I am trying to be truthful.

Not a cute card or a kissogram.

I give you an onion.

Its fierce kiss will stay on your lips,

possessive and faithful

as we are,

for as long as we are.

Take it.

Its platinum loops shrink to a wedding ring,

if you like.

Lethal.

Its scent will cling to your fingers,

cling to your knife.

Also try: Eurydice, I laugh every time I read this one

Lucozade by Jackie Kay

My mum is on a high bed next to sad chrysanthemums.

‘Don't bring flowers, they only wilt and die.'

I am scared my mum is going to die

on the bed next to the sad chrysanthemums.

She nods off and her eyes go back in her head.

Next to her bed is a bottle of Lucozade.

‘Orange nostalgia, that's what that is,' she says.

‘Don't bring Lucozade either,' then fades.

‘The whole day was a blur, a swarm of eyes.

Those doctors with their white lies.

Did you think you could cheer me up with a Woman's Own?

Don't bring magazines, too much about size.'

My mum wakes up, groggy and low.

‘What I want to know,' she says,' is this:

where's the big brandy, the generous gin, the Bloody Mary,

the biscuit tin, the chocolate gingers, the dirty big meringue?'

I am sixteen; I've never tasted a Bloody Mary.

‘Tell your father to bring a luxury,' says she.

‘Grapes have no imagination, they're just green.

Tell him: stop the neighbours coming.'

I clear her cupboard in Ward 10B, Stobhill Hospital.

I leave, bags full, Lucozade, grapes, oranges,

sad chrysanthemums under my arms,

weighted down. I turn round, wave with her flowers.

My mother, on her high hospital bed, waves back.

Her face is light and radiant, dandelion hours.

Her sheets billow and whirl. She is beautiful.

Next to her the empty table is divine.

I carry the orange nostalgia home singing an old song.

Also: Divorce

Nae Hair Ont by Robert 'Rabbie' Burns

Yestreen I wed a lady fair,

And ye wad believe me,

On her cunt there grows nae hair,

That's the thing that grieves me.

It vexed me sair, it plagu'd me sair,

It put me in a passion,

To think that I had wad a wife,

Whase cunt was out o' fashion.

Also: this guy is very important we literally have a day dedicated to him 25th January every year.

#I'll be honest i went down a poetry rabbit hole #i studied them all in high school #the day we were told that Duffy and Kay used to date blew my mind #we were studying Kay at the time but had done duffy the previous year so we knew who our teacher was talking about #im hoping the Scots words translate for themselves but let me know if they dont

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sunbloodu · 1 month

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I'm telling you what about me like what about Halee? Like in each person about themselves a story? I want to tell you about me. I born a girl, with an ear loss (not a problem) and hard to step in to touch the world as I'm blurry to see, and fear, I just don't know how, not born a different. Almost no school. I am not supposed to be growing to death, but I will. I am staying little and learn from the world, not books. I am nothing and create but love. Many years later I am growing, I'm dreaming. I never play sports or else. I like to read magazines for the future. I made right ways in my head, not outside or people see through my mind, just quiet. You'll learn more from me how grow up I am, it is not really me now by last I was different. My first kindergarten class in 1996 I don't like to read book when a teacher wants me to read a book and I drew on the paper and put up on the wall in the classroom, a few month later I looked up at the wall of my paint picture become memory when I was little. I dreamed of eating chocolate pudding (oreo), and sitting in an abandoned room, with a small window, I wore an demin pants, white shirt, very long hair with bangs and barefoot with no shoes on. I watched Mean Girls, Cinderella, Green Mile, Titanic, Space Jam, Hook (Peter Pan), Fantasy, What's eating Gilbert Grape, Sleepy Hollow, Carrie, Green Tomatoes, Neverland, A little princess and etc. I have so much to say that I was being a victim so many years. I'm becoming mentally by world has taught me with no love. I'm now 32, I changed into aging, sad, unhealthy and tiredness and quiet. Since I was a baby and now, I am worried, and scared of the world. I am very important to have a good life and be a good friend with people, not backstabbing or things jealously, I am just trying to grow happiness with nothing matters. People do not deserve suicide commit. ❤

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henryaanderson · 3 months

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Sexual Seeds

Before you can examine anything in depth in hopes of explaining what makes it unique, you have to look at its creation. In order to appreciate a fine wine we chart its age. We track where the grapes were grown and what climate existed the year it was bottled. When studying a piece of fine art, scholars inevitably look at the artist. They study his life, environment and associations in hopes these will grant us a better understanding of how the image in question came to be.

This is true with everything. Without looking at origins we cannot begin to understand evolution.

In order to explain who I am today I must also examine my creation. Not my physical birth, mind you, but my carnal one. I am the product of my sexual discovery and growth. Now I don’t claim to be on par with a Chateau Lafite or Renoir, but I am just as unique, and when I take my slaves to the limit of their passions one can make the argument that my creations are just as intoxicating and breathtaking.

So, in an effort to better explain the Master I am today, I need to start by showing you the sexual seeds that were planted years ago.

My earliest sexual memory is clear in my mind. I can picture it better than any memories of Christmas, vacations or weekend sleepovers with my best friend. I was quite young and was spending the day at my best friend’s home. We had been playing in his room and for some reason we found our way into his older brother Trevor’s bedroom. Trevor was 16 and hated us getting into his things, but this particular day he wasn't so we were able to sneak in.

We were pretending to be spies slipping into enemy territory, hunting for plans. My friend was going through his closet and I set my sights on his end table. I quietly slid open the drawer in hopes of finding the imaginary documents needed to win our fictitious war. Little did I know the contents of that small, white drawer would set me on a path that continues to grow to this day.

Resting in the top of the drawer was a magazine. It would have been ignored or tossed aside if not for the image on its cover. A brunette woman was sitting in a window, her limbs curled to fit within the sill. She was totally naked, one perfect breast exposed.

I was startled at first. I felt my breath leave me and my heart begin to race. I knew I wasn’t supposed to see this, but I couldn’t look away. I remember my eyes darting between her breast and bare feet.

I looked around to make sure nobody was coming and then I pulled the magazine out of the drawer. I had to open it but I was scared I would get caught and it would be taken away. I grabbed a piece of paper from the drawer, slammed it closed and before my friend could react I yelled “Got it!” and ran from the room.

I remember thinking I had to hide the magazine. I didn’t want my friend knowing I took it. This had to be all mine. I made it to his room as fast as I could and I slipped the magazine into my sleep over bag, hiding it beneath my pajamas. As Travis came running in I grabbed the paper I stole and waved it around proclaiming it to be the secret documents we were hunting for.

Our game continued all day but my mind kept going back to the picture on the Playboy cover tucked in my bag. I couldn’t wait for the chance to look at it again, to open it up and see what was inside. My chance finally came that night when it was time for us to change for bed. I pretended I had to go to the bathroom and I took my bag with me. I locked the door and quickly and quietly pulled the magazine out of the bag. Sitting on the floor beside the bathtub I placed the magazine on the floor before me.

There she was again, smiling at me. I couldn’t get over how she made me feel. She was totally naked which seemed so taboo to me. I had never seen a naked girl before and as strange as it was to me then it was clear I liked it.

I quickly flipped through the rest of the pages and each time I found an image of a naked woman I felt this shock run through me. I know now this was arousal but at the time I had no clue what to make of it, or what to do to heighten it. Instead I hid the magazine and counted the hours until I could look at it again.

The next day, in the privacy of my own bedroom, I was able to look at each page in detail. I discovered many things that day. I realized just how beautiful a woman’s body is, and I started to detect what features and poses I liked most. These are still strong in me to this day. I discovered seeing a woman totally naked was far more exciting for me than seeing them with partial clothing, or shoes on. I noticed that the photos of the women outside or in places where they might be seen by others drove me wild. I also found myself delighting over the tight bare asses and beautiful bare feet.

Another discovery was that I was actually enjoying reading something. I poured over the words on each page as if they held some amazing secret I had to know. I was thrilled when I saw the first comic portraying a naked woman. I would never look at my Superman comics the same again. Why couldn’t Lois be naked? What if Batman stripped Batgirl and made her run around his cave in the nude?

There was a pictorial of sex scenes in French Cinema, which fascinated me. The thought that there were movies of naked women having sex blew my mind and became an obsession. Is it any surprise that now my career finds me making films?

I still have the magazine to this day, and occasionally pull it out and revisit its pages. They still arouse me when I see them, and it is like reconnecting with an old friend. Even as I write this, I find myself growing hard at the memory of Marilyn Lange naked on those pages.

So, with the discovery of naked women under my belt I found that I looked at everything differently. Every time I saw a magazine in the store, I would imagine the model or actress on its cover was naked. On TV I would picture the young actresses taking off their clothes and I imagined they would engage in sex for me to see. I became obsessed with watching Valerie Bertinelli on One Day at a Time, somehow connecting her brunette beauty to the cover that was tucked deep in my closet.

I started searching desperately for a way to see an actual girl naked. I would study my friends and classmates and wonder what they would look like without clothes. It wasn’t long before I starting suggesting games like truth or dare in hopes of finding a way to achieve this. I wasn’t prepared, however, for the constant frequency that girls would choose truth. Even when I would guide the questions in a naughty direction there were only so many secrets girls had to reveal at that age. Mostly things like who do you have a crush on, or who would you most like to kiss. This wasn’t what I wanted, what I needed. I decided that if nobody else was going to be brave enough to choose dare then I would have to.

I remember my frustration when the dares I would receive were as vapid as the truths that came before. The girls all wanted to make me kiss somebody. It is funny to think of this as not a desired result when I think back now, but at that time all I wanted was to see one of them, all of them naked. I did, however, quickly learn of the joys of actual physical contact. Kissing soon stopped being gross or silly and I started to enjoy it. Still, if I was going to reach my goal I need to get somebody to push the dares to the next level.

I decided that I needed somebody to start daring me to do naughtier things. I couldn’t dare myself, and I couldn’t control what the girls would dare me, so I turned to Travis, my best friend. I would have him push it to the next level. I couldn’t ask him to dare me something like that, he would think I was weird or crazy, so I had to outsmart him. I’d mention things that I would hate to be dared, making it clear how horrified I would be if I were ever asked to do them. My hope was he would pass this on when the time was right.

It didn’t take long. At the next game I bravely asked for a dare and the girls all started to giggle. They were whispering to each other trying to decide what to have me do. I shot Travis a look telling him to stay out of it and not mention any of the ideas we had talked about. I made my face look scared and that seemed to do it. He started whispering with them, and the girls shrieked. I remember feeling the sudden swell of my cock, which took me by surprise.

Tina Heck looked me in the eye and dared me to take my shirt off. Finally, things were headed in the right direction. I acted horrified and embarrassed as I slipped my shirt off. The girls giggled, and it was my turn. Before long I got a girl to choose dare, and I pretended to want payback. I told her she had to remove her shirt.

Everyone got quiet.

This seemed so naughty at the time. Poor Fern’s face flushed, and it didn’t seem like she would do it. I egged everyone on forcing them to put pressure on Fern to give in. Then it happened. Her face red, her eyes glassy, I watched as she pulled her shirt off. It was the most beautiful, erotic thing I had ever seen. She had a white bra on. I was overwhelmed.

I quickly learned how to manipulate things to get what I wanted. A few months later I got my first peek at a girl’s bare chest, and a few peeks down a pair of white cotton panties to glimpse a pussy. In turn I learned I had to be willing to go first. I was often dared to flash my cock, which I always did with protest, pretending to be shy about it. In truth this was where I learned how much I enjoyed being on display.

I learned that I possess a unique gift. This was the ability to influence others and put them at ease. Almost akin to the soothing control a hypnotist works over their subjects, I can guide people into situations that they would never find themselves in otherwise.

Take, for example, young Missy Pruitt who, without warning found herself in a game of truth or dare. Missy stood slightly removed from the group. I could tell by the look on her face that she wanted to see what was happening but didn’t actually want to take part. I can still see the shock on her face as I called out her name.

“Missy, truth or dare?”

Everyone spun to face her, letting out gasps and giggles. I stepped closer to Missy, determined to get her to choose dare. Mind you this was the least likely result. It was a certainty that Missy would shyly select truth expecting to answer some silly question and then be left alone. I looked her in the eyes and let the words flow from me.

”I would choose dare Missy.” I whispered. ”I have a truth that will make you expose your darkest secret.”

She stared at me. Everyone started to yell at her to choose, and as I saw the terror grow in her eyes, I discovered myself getting harder. Tears dripped down her cheeks as she stared at me. At the moment she was the most beautiful girl I had ever seen, the look in her eyes, the helplessness. I thought my cock was going to rip through my uniform grey slacks.

That’s when it happened. This innocent, shy girl who never played these games stepped forward and with a soft voice she spoke.

“Dare.”

I think I was as shocked as everyone else. More yells and laughs filled the air. Nobody could believe she said dare. I had her right where I wanted her. All she could think of was avoiding this terrible secret being revealed. If there really was a secret I certainly did not know what it was. Perhaps there wasn’t one, but Missy was scared enough not to risk it. Either way she now had to do what I said. I thought for a moment, knowing deep inside I would not pass up this chance. I had to make Missy Pruitt do something so out of character for her that it would change her life.

“I dare you to take off your panties and flash everyone… and you have to give them to me. You can’t wear them for the rest of the day.”

The yells were so loud I thought we would all be caught. Everyone was beside themselves. Missy looked at me, and I noticed her eyes pleading for me to let her go free. That’s when the guilt rose up in me.

As wide as my capacity is for pushing limits, the depth of my conscience is just as dominant. I still wanted to see her do my dare. I wanted to see her naked, and I wanted to feel her panties in my hand and to know I forced her into this humiliation. However, it was now clear I had to find a way to make her want to do this. My desire was to humiliate her, but not to force her to do something she really didn’t enjoy. She couldn’t be forced to do this. She had to make the decision to expose herself, and maybe even enjoy it.

I whispered into her ear that she didn’t have to do it. I could give her a smaller dare, and that she should just ignore everyone’s teasing her. I think she knew down deep that once the dare was given she had to live up to it. She shook her head and told me she was OK with it. I remember her voice grew stronger, and she seemed more confident. She had reached down inside herself and found this power and she was going to take control.

Missy reached under her skirt and slipped off her pink cotton panties and handed them to me. I waved them around so everybody could see, and everyone cheered. Missy took a few steps backward, leaning against a tree. I decided I wouldn't press her to flash, but I was shocked then to see Missy lift her skirt up so everyone could see her naked pussy.

The crowd grew quiet when she did this, and for many it seemed too much. This was the last dare. The others, all still excited, were now nervous. I had taken things a step beyond anything they had imagined, and they didn’t know how to proceed. I could see many of them were excited but overwhelmed.

The rest of the day I remained hard knowing Missy was naked under her skirt. Every time she tugged it down, sitting on it so she didn’t flash the teacher, I felt my cock throb.

At the end of the day, I knew I had not only succeeded in getting her to do what I wanted, I gained proof that she had actually enjoyed it. Missy came up to me and asked if she could have her panties back. I told her no, they were mine and she would have to go home without them. Instead of her growing upset or sad at this she giggled. She actually giggled and told me OK. She spun around, her little skirt lifting slightly and with a wave she headed toward her car.

I kept the panties in my pocket, and that afternoon when I got home I masturbated, running her panties up and down on my cock. As I came in them, I remember feeling so fulfilled. It was time to start planning my next encounter.

After that masturbation became one of my favorite activities. One night when in my bedroom, as I crossed the room I glanced out of my window. It was dark outside, but my neighbor’s window was lit across the side yard. Inside was the bedroom. The window and the curtains were open to let in the summer breeze. I could see easily into the room, and on the bed were my neighbors having sex.

I remember seeing him on top of her. His bare ass pounded up and down, and I could see the entire bed shake. Her long naked legs reached into the air, and her feet pointed as I heard her moan loader and loader. I peered over the window-sill watching as he fucked her. I could feel my cock start to grow in my pajamas as she moaned. Each time I heard her voice it would jerk in my pants. At one point he grabbed her ankles and lifted her legs above his shoulders and for the first time I could see her pussy as his cock slid in and out. I was transfixed. I couldn’t stop watching them as they grew louder and faster. As she came I remember wanting to explode.

When they finished I pulled the Playboy out and masturbated. They would often have sex that summer, and the next time I saw them I sat on the edge of my bed and masturbated as I watched. Her voice always made me harder than I thought possible, and I found these were the best orgasms I had at that age.

I couldn’t stop thinking about sex. I longed to see other women naked and to hear them moan. I would imagine my friends naked, and I would often react when a girl would make even the slightest orgasmic noise. In gym class I would get hard hearing the girls grunt as they went about various activities. One day I almost lost my mind when one girl rested on her back on the gym floor and lifted her legs into the air. Her bare feet pointed, and I could imagine myself fucking her, making her moan and writhe.

As we all grew older and puberty began to hit my friends I became the life of the party. I was the one everybody wanted in their truth or dare games because I would come up with the most amazing and creative dares. In turn I was always willing to do anything. I remember one party where I was dared to strip naked in front of everyone and masturbate. I sat in the middle of the room stroking my cock as everyone watched. I remember the thrill of seeing their eyes on me, boys and girls alike. They would dare me to do crazier and crazier things thinking I wouldn’t do them, but secretly wanting me to. Everyone thought I was crazy, but that year I had 8 different girlfriends. I learned that many girls pretended to be pure and shy but down deep they are curious and want to explore.

I got my first blowjob in the school parking lot after a football game. Audrey Watson and I were dating, and her best friend Jana was in the backseat watching. It was late that same year when I lost my virginity in the woods behind my house.

I talked Audrey Watson into going all the way on this hard, cold rock. I remember the feeling as I slid my cock into her the first time. I could picture my neighbor pounding his wife on their bed as I thrust harder and harder. I tried to lift her legs onto my shoulders, but this was far too advanced for us. She was in pain as this was her first time, and I was gentle until the hymen broke. I do remember, however, the strange feeling or pleasure that surged through me when with each thrust, she would let out a small whimper of pain. It wasn’t long before I came which I think was fine with her due to the discomfort. Two days later we fucked again on her mother’s bed, and this time we both were far more creative.

I remember another day in history class when I was so horny I thought I was going to lose my mind. I sat next to the window and that time of day the cheerleaders were practicing on a small section of grass outside. I couldn’t take my eyes off of their short skirts and tight legs. The occasional glimpse of the yellow panties under their skirts drove me wild.

I slowly unzipped my pants and slipped my cock out right there in the classroom and jerked off. I had to slowly stroke so as not to draw attention. It didn’t take me long before I felt myself cumming. I couldn’t control it anymore. I remember thinking the noise of my cum hitting the bottom of my desk was horrendously loud. However, nobody turned around. I had gotten away with it. As I glanced around the class though I found I was mistaken. Katie Price was staring right at me. As I caught her eye, she just shook her head at me and laughed. That summer was filled with sexual exploration. I fucked Audrey every day and thought it would never end. Little did I know that I would soon meet a girl who would change my sexual life forever.

Master Anderson

Slavegirls - Audrey Watson

#Master Anderson #Master's Story #Audrey Watson

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bethestaryouareradio · 9 months

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Roots Matter

“The Land! That is where our roots are. There is the basis of our physical life.” Henry Ford

As a gardener, I spend copious amounts of time thinking about roots. Healthy roots are critical indicators of the overall health and survival of plants and trees.

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Why are roots essential?

Anchorage: One of the primary functions of roots is to anchor the plant firmly in the soil so that it is not uprooted by wind, water, or other forces of nature.

Absorption: Roots absorb water and nutrients essential for growth and development. The extensive network of roots maximizes the plant’s ability to access these resources.

Storage: The root system also stores energy in the form of starches and sugars which can be utilized during periods of drought or new growth.

Transport: The vascular system extends from the roots to the leaves to the stems facilitating movement of water and nutrients.

Stabilization: Roots reduce erosion by binding the soil particles together making the plant strong and stable.

Microbial Support: Roots contribute to improving soil structure by promoting microbial activity and organic matter decomposition. Mycorrhizal fungi and nitrogen-fixing bacteria enhance nutrient uptake and protect plants from pathogens.

Aeration: Roots create tiny channels in the soil as they grow. These channels allow oxygen to penetrate deeper into the soil, which promotes a healthier ecosystem. Roots also prevent soil compaction which aids in better water infiltration and growth.

Drought Resistance: Periods of drought are survival because of deep root systems and taproots.

Without healthy roots, all plants would struggle to survive.

Human roots are also important.

Recently friends invited my husband and me to a picnic and a private wine tasting at Beringer Brothers in St. Helena. “How fun,” I responded. “It will be great to be back in my stomping grounds.” Although we had been friends for years and they knew that I’d grown up in the vineyards, they didn’t know the story of my roots. I’ll share a snippet of my heritage with you.

My paternal grandfather, Fred Abruzzini, was the son of Italian immigrants who emigrated to America via Canada at the turn of the century. As a boy, he began working with my great uncle at Cribari Winery in Madrone where he became the winemaker. Between Prohibition and the Great Depression, many California wineries closed. Beringer Brothers was faltering. Federal agents suggested to Bertha Beringer that she hire someone with integrity and knowledge, someone like Fred Abruzzini. He motored up to St. Helena and when he saw the caves, he believed that he could make some excellent wine.

(Photo from Fortune Magazine, May 1941)

In 1932 at the age of 28, in exchange for free rein, he was hired to be Beringer’s manager, wine maker, and chief promoter. He gambled that Franklin Delano Roosevelt would be elected President and end prohibition, so he began crushing more grapes, making wine and port. Prohibition ended in 1933 and in 1934 Grandpa had the innovative idea to open the cellars to the public for tours, and on special occasions, free tastings. For the 1939 Golden Gate International Exposition, a World’s Fair held at Treasure Island, he created the first colorful map of “one of California’s most delightful one-day trips” where all roads led to Beringer.

Clark Gable, Carol Lombard, Charles Laughton, Tom Mix, Ginger Rogers, Roy Rogers, Abbott and Costello, Max Baer, Rudy Vallee, and a bevy of other luminaries visited often and became friends. He mentored the “youngsters” as he called them Robert and Peter Mondavi as well as other winemakers. Fred became a legend in California with his publicity for the wine industry of Napa Valley and literally put Napa Valley on the map.

As children, we rode horses, barbecued, roamed the caves, and played at the winery. For many years, the grapes from our vineyards were crushed into Beringer wines. Grandpa was killed in 1988 when a gigantic elm tree toppled on him while he mowed his lawn. He would be proud to know that the roots he planted as the first person to offer tours and tastings to the public have grown into Napa Valley being the beautiful and renowned wine destination it is today.

Cuttings from those first grape canes planted by my grandfather are rooted and thriving in my garden. His children, grandchildren, and great-grandchildren have continued his legacy.

Roots. Yes, they are the basis of our physical life.

The Goddess Gardener’s September Gardening Guide

ü DEEP SOAK roots of trees in need with a soaker hose during dry spells.

ü HARVEST apples, Asian pears, Bartlett pears, grapes, blackberries, tomatoes, prickly pear, and quince.

ü CUT and dry big heads of hydrangeas for indoor bouquets.

ü PLAN to plant cover crops to add maximum benefits to your soil over the winter. Fall mixes can include seeds of legumes, grass, grains, brassica, vetch, rye, clover, and radish. These will suppress weeds, add aeration, and increase soil aggregation.

ü SEND a plant off to college with your student to keep the indoor air clean while offering memory and concentration improvement. Prayer plants, peace lilies, pothos, and snake plants are easy-to-grow specimens that will acclimate well to dorm rooms.

ü SAVE seeds from your favorite perennials.

ü DEADHEAD roses for several more flurries of blooms before January.

ü PRUNE a shrub into a creative topiary!

ü ENJOY the bright colors of impatiens in borders and beds.

ü RELISH your roots!

Happy Gardening! Happy Growing!

Read at Lamorinda Weekly: Read Lamorinda Weekly: https://www.lamorindaweekly.com/archive/issue1715/Digging-Deep-with-Goddess-Gardener-Cynthia-Brian-Roots.html

Listen to Cynthia talk about her Roots on StarStyle at the Voice America Network, Empowerment Channel: https://www.voiceamerica.com/episode/146591/roots-dog-lessons-anger-angst

More at Press Pass: https://www.vapresspass.com/2023/09/13/garden-and-family-roots/

Mark Your Calendar:

On Saturday, September 30th, Be the Star You Are!® will host a booth sponsored by the Lamorinda Weekly Newspaperand MBJessee Painting at the Pear and Wine Festival in Moraga. Stop by to plant seeds and pick up bags of free potpourri. More info at https://www.bethestaryouare.org/e

vents-1/2023-pear-and-wine-festival

Hire Cynthia for writing projects, garden consults, and inspirational lectures. [email protected]

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#roots #grapes #beringerBrothersWinery #napaValley #septembergardenign #cynthiaBrian #starstyle #gardengoddess

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nwbeerguide · 1 year

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Exclusives "Another Life" and "Mystic Shadows" are included in the latest edition of Firestone Walker Brewing's IPA Mixed Pack.

image courtesy Firestone Walker Brewing

Press Release

Paso Robles, CA: Firestone Walker is rolling into summer with limited-edition releases of Another Life and Mystic Shadows, two new treasure beers available exclusively in the brewery’s second round of IPA Mixed Packs for 2023.

The canned Firestone Walker IPA Mixed Pack featuring Another Life is rolling out now to all Firestone Walker markets and locations. This pack also includes Hopnosis, Mind Haze and Union Jack.

Concurrently, a parallel bottled IPA Mixed Pack featuring Mystic Shadows is rolling out to the California, Arizona and Nevada markets. This pack also includes Hopnosis and Union Jack.

Another Life: Cold IPA | 6% ABV

Greet the sun with Another Life—a bright blonde Cold IPA featuring a blend of Citra, El Dorado, Centennial and Chinook hops. Melding classic Pacific Northwest hop flavors of citrus and pine with new age notes of pineapple and watermelon candy, this is a crisp, clean IPA that’s built for summertime enjoyment. “We brewed this beer with a simple bill of pilsner malt and rice and fermented it with lager yeast to create a true-to-form Cold IPA,” said Brewmaster Matt Brynildson. “The Pacific Northwest hops shine through while the mouthfeel stays light, refreshing and perfectly cold.”

Mystic Shadows: New Zealand IPA | 6% ABV

Mystic Shadows is a new-age showcase for New Zealand hops. A light malt base provides the perfect canvas to feature these captivating hop varieties, lending notes of white gummy bear, blue raspberry, strawberry, green mango and bubblegum. This is a lighter-bodied, crushable IPA with a unique hop profile. “We blended a few of our favorite New Zealand hops, Nelson and Motueka, with a couple of other newer discoveries called Rakau and Moutere,” Brynildson said. “We had just enough supply to create this limited release, which blends West Coast style with Southern Hemisphere character.”

Hopnosis: Cold IPA | 6.7% ABV

Hopnosis is the culmination of Firestone Walker’s 15-year quest to master the IPA style. Brewed with Mosaic Cryo Hops®, Hopnosis is a seamless, aromatic and explosively tropical beer, employing Cold IPA brewing techniques to create an ultimate new-school expression of a West Coast IPA. The resulting beer delivers pure hop character with minimal bitterness, loaded with flavors of mango, passionfruit, white grape and lychee.

Mind Haze: Hazy IPA | 6.2% ABV

From the coast of California comes Mind Haze, a free-spirited beer made to elevate your perceptions—juicy, fresh and loaded with an imaginative array of tropical hop flavors. This is a hazy IPA done the Firestone way. Mind Haze is ultimately a beer that breaks the mold with explosive hop aromas; juicy, fruity flavors; and a true hazy-style mouthfeel.

Union Jack: West Coast IPA | 7% ABV

Huge flavor that packs a punch. This is Union Jack—an icon of the West Coast IPA style, for those who like their beer loud and proud. Union Jack is the IPA that helped blaze the trail for the revolutionary West Coast style. Named for the British Lion who co-founded the brewery, Union Jack is intensely hoppy yet eminently drinkable from start to finish. A fad-proof IPA for any hop head.

# # #

Founded by brothers-in-law Adam Firestone and David Walker in 1996, Firestone Walker Brewing Company is a California beer company with three innovative brewing facilities. Firestone Walker’s main brewery in Paso Robles produces a diverse portfolio ranging from iconic pale ales to vintage barrel-aged beers. The Barrelworks facility in Buellton makes eccentric wild ales, while the Propagator pilot brewhouse in Venice specializes in R&D beers and limited local offerings. Firestone Walker is also the brewery behind 805, one of the nation’s fastest-growing beers. Firestone Walker was recently named “Best American Brewery of the Decade” by Paste Magazine.

from Northwest Beer Guide - News - The Northwest Beer Guide https://bit.ly/43DzTne

#Craft Beer #Beer #News

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