#Definitely adding some more articles and sticky notes

[ghost-bxrd]

A more cleaned up sketch version for the follow up to the “poltergeist” piece 🙈 let’s get to coloring and detailing now ✌️

#Definitely adding some more articles and sticky notes #but for now those are the most important hehe #probably gonna be a triptych #digital art #sketch #doodle #wip #work in progress #art #jason todd #batfamily #dick grayson #batfam #bruce wayne #robin #tim drake #red hood #fic #batman #a story told with pictures and newspaper articles #fanfiction

[forays-into-fiction]

When It Rains, It Pours

This is a follow up/part 2 to Why Don’t You Put on a Show as a couple people have requested (@maystecc and @edsforehead​). I hope you enjoy. This one definitely got away from me, it is way longer than I intended and a whole lot filthier too 😅

Minors DNI 

Contains: Rockstar!Eddie x Reader, Honorifics/ Petnames (Sir, Babe, Baby, Sweetheart, Princess), Not So Dry Humping, This One is A Lot Heavier on Oral Fixation, Finger Sucking, Oral (Male and Female Recieving), Cum Swallowing/Eating. Dom!Eddie/Sub!Reader, Degradation/Name-calling (Slut, Cockslut, Whore), Dirty Talk, Praise Kink, Unprotected Sex, Slight Domesticity 

Eddie had told you not to read the article, it wasn’t like he had himself, but curiosity gets the better of you one day. While he’s out you sneak into the bedroom, feeling like an intruder in your own home. You know where he’s been keeping the magazine, you know he uses it sometimes when you’re not around. 

It still surprises you how much these photos turn him on, sometimes more it seems than some of the photos you’ve taken of yourself. You suppose it’s the added thrill of everyone else in the world also ogling your scantily clad frame, that does something for you too that you still can’t explain. 

He taunts you with it sometimes, about how you’re ‘such a whore… want all the guys looking at you’ as he thrusts into you with abandon more forceful with each stroke. You love how he can go from degrading to tender in a heartbeat, it sets you aflame like no one else has.

Flipping through the pages you note some sticky stains on the photos of you, hastily wiped away, though the pages still have some resistance when pulled apart. You shake your head, of course he would, you still feel a heat rising in your cheeks though. You get to the article, taking a steadying breath, closing your eyes briefly before opening them and perusing the words.

Meeting with Eddie Munson and y/n y/l/n has been an experience to say the least. We begin the interview with Munson as y/l/n is escorted away for her photoshoot, he offers up information on the band, Corroded Coffin, and their sudden rise to fame explaining how “… it’s something I never could have expected. I mean sure it’s what everyone wants when they’re in a band, right… but the response has just been mind blowing.” 

When asked about all the female attention he’s been getting he becomes dismissive, saying that “None of that really means anything… they’re only interested because I’m the new guy on the scene… it’s bound to blow over and I’ve got the perfect girl waiting for me at home…” 

He reveals that he’s been working on new material for the band, so everyone keep an eye out for the next Corroded Coffin album. He can’t say when it’ll be hitting the shelves, but assured me it will be soon. 

When y/l/n returns the two behave like a pair of lovesick puppies, high school sweethearts who can barely keep their hands off one another. Always kissing or touching in some way, but how long will that last before the strain of celebrity status brings them crashing back down to Earth. Munson is adamant that nothing could ever change and that he’s never been tempted by any of his fangirls, saying “… I love my fans, but that is never happening.” 

In relation to her celebrity status y/l/n may be quoted, “It has been a wild ride. I don’t really know why anyone is interested in me […] I’m just […] his little groupie” It is interesting to note that she thinks so little of herself, having to be reassured by her boyfriend that “[…] she is so much more than that.” 

The pair first met back in Hawkins High, the super senior Munson needing help with his studies. Y/l/n recalls a tender moment of admiration, “He was sat on his bed strumming on his guitar along to a song […] He’d said it was some new song by Metallica he was trying to learn I just couldn’t look away, I remember thinking ‘how could someone be this pretty’”

Munson begins teasing at this and the pair share a childish moment, ribbing one another. 

As to how their relationship affects the band Munson has nothing but good things to say, insisting that she is his inspiration. While y/l/n clams she “[…] just wants whatever’s best for them, whatever that entails.” and admiring their hard work. 

It is here however that the pair turn sour, inexplicably. Storming off in a rage, inconsolable. This does not bode well, perhaps indicating early signs of cracks in the relationship. At the very least it’s a sore subject, we wouldn’t want a repeat of the Lennon/Ono drama. 

With the interview coming to an abrupt end, we are left with many unanswered questions on just who Eddie Munson’s mystery girl truly is, but some light has been shed on her today. In this inescapable whirlwind of fame more details are likely to come to light soon enough. In the meantime, sorry fans your heartthrob guitarist seems to be well and truly smitten with his girlfriend. Fingers crossed they can stand the test of time.

He was right they did twist your words and make jabs at you and your relationship, but it wasn’t nearly as bad as it felt in the moment. People can read into that however they wish, you think to yourself, deciding you’re not going to let it get to you any further than it has.

 “Hey babe, I’m home.” You hear Eddie’s voice calling out to you, closer than you would have expected.

You scramble to shove the magazine back in the drawer before he enters the room.

He walks through the doorway, tossing his jacket over the end of the bedframe. He spots you kneeling on the floor by his bedside table, you look up at him guiltily.

“Uh, babe what are you doing down there?” He grins at you in amusement before realising, “Oh, babe no you didn’t read it, did you?”

You nod biting your lip anxiously, “It wasn’t as bad as I thought it would be. It’s ok… I mean it’s not like I love what he wrote about us but I can deal with it.”

“You sure?” He asks, concern lacing his voice.

“Yeah, I’m ok. I think it was just a lot worse in person because that made it more real, more personal. This… this is just words on a page. Who cares?” You assure him with a shrug.

He extends his hand to you, “Come on, up you get… unless…” he raises his brows suggestively smirking.

You look up at him curiously, “Unless what?”

“Unless while your down there-”

You cut him off chuckling and grabbing his hand, pulling yourself up, “God, you really are insatiable, aren’t you?”

“What can I say sweetheart…” he shrugs, “… sometimes I’ve just got a one-track mind, especially when it comes to you.”

“Such a pervert more like,” you tease playfully, “come on we should get started on dinner.”

“Oh, you wound me.” He sighs dramatically, clutching at his chest. “Am I not more than just some lowly pervert, do I not deserve your love and affection.”

You scoff at him, “Ok mister ‘love and affection’ I’ll suck your dick later.” You press a gentle kiss to his cheek, sealing your promise.

“I fucking love you.” He breathes out pulling you back in for a heated, more passionate kiss, capturing your lips between his own.

You break apart, “I love you too, now come on, my darling Sou chef we have work to do before you can get your dick wet.” You lick your lips teasingly, eyeing him up and down.

He groans, “Don’t know how I’m gonna make it through dinner when you look at me like that.”

You giggle, leading him out of the bedroom, hand clasped in your own.

You have him chopping vegetables as you prepare a pot on the stove, working back-to-back, “Those potatoes done, babe?” You call over your shoulder.

“Yep, just one second…” he scoops the chopped and peeled potatoes into a bowl, spinning around to hand them to you. As you drop them into the pot of water, he presses up against you, ducking his head to the slope of your neck kissing you softly. You lean into him for a moment before remembering the task at hand and tutting at him, “Hey, come on after dinner, ok? Get back to work.” You try to sound stern but you can’t help the grin that’s breaking out across your face, you’re just as eager to get on your knees for him. Been thinking about it since the moment he suggested it, practically dripping with need.

He smirks against your skin, “Mhmm… whatever you say babe.”

He breaks away reluctantly and you let out an involuntary whine at the loss of contact. He chuckles at you before commenting smugly, “Yeah, that’s what I thought.”

But, dutifully he continues helping you prep the meal.

As you place the dish into the oven setting a timer, he clings to your apron strings needily. You decide to put him out of his misery giving him his much-earned affection. He pushes into you insistently as you turn and embrace him, you can feel his thick, hard cock against you and your lips meet in a searing kiss.

You pull back slightly, offering breathily, “We’ve got forty minutes until that needs to come out, you wanna…”

“What happened to ‘after dinner’?” His self-satisfied grin taunting you.

“Well, you may have a one-track mind when it comes to me but that goes both ways, you know?”

“Awww, you can’t hold out, can you?” He teases as if he wasn’t just hovering over you ready to pounce.

You pout at him, “I could if I wanted to. You’re the one whose already hard up over nothing.”

“Oh yeah, and if I dip my fingers between your legs, I’m not going to find a soaking mess, am I?”

You blush looking away, he’s called your bluff and he knows it. Stepping closer and pushing you against the counter, you gasp as you make contact with it, your hands bracing against the edge.

He caresses the side of your face, bringing your eyes to his. His fingertips trace your jaw before coming up to the curve of your lips. He doesn’t need to say anything, you part your lips and his fingers slip in, first one, then another as you slobber all over them. Sucking and swirling your tongue around his digits he adds a third and you moan around them.

“Yeah, that’s it baby. You like that don’t ya?” His deep, rumbly voice sends a shiver down your spine and you nod in response.

He chuckles darkly, “Gonna give you something else to wrap those pretty lips around soon, you want that?”

“Mhmmm…” You mumble around his fingers, drool dripping down your chin.

He drags his fingers out of your mouth slowly with a lewd, wet slurp escaping your lips, leaving you a sloppy, drooling mess. You huff out shallow breaths, your chest heaving as his eyes rake over you.

“Always such a pretty little whore for me, love how much of a mess you make of yourself.” He hums.

You whine pathetically, looking up at him through your lashes, “Can I… can I suck your dick now, sir?”

He decides to have some fun with it, pretending to pause in thought as if he has to consider it.

You sink to your knees before him, hands coming up to rest at his hips, “Please… please, sir.” You beg with a pout.

He hums, “Well… since you asked so nicely… I’m gonna have to say yes.”

Your hands are quick to jump to his belt, undoing it hurriedly as you mumble, “Thankyouthankyouthankyou…”

Despite his cocky demeanour, Eddie still finds it hard to believe that he could ever be so lucky as to have someone like you, kneeling at his feet begging to suck his cock, thanking him for it too.

You roll down his jeans and boxers together in one motion to be met with the sight of his ruddy, leaking cock.

You admire it for a moment as he reaches down a hand to glide over it. The same one that had just been in your mouth, spreading your drool and his precum over its length. He growls lowly, “You see what you do to me sweetheart? And you expect me to wait? Nuh uh go ahead now I want you to take it all.”

You nod licking at his heavy balls for a moment before running your tongue along his length. You repeat this a few times, tracing over bulging veins before finally coming up to his tip swirling your tongue around it and enveloping it between your lips. You look up at him, his eyes half-lidded, head thrown back panting softly between pursed lips. As you take more of him into your mouth he groans encouragingly, “Yeah, just like that. Take all of it in for me.”

You continue until your nose brushes against the hair at his base, balls resting against your chin, you breathe in his musky scent. You whine around him and his hand comes down to stroke the back of your head, “Such a good girl… such a good little slut for me…”

You begin bobbing up and down along his length, breathing harshly from your nose and flooding your already wet panties. When his hips begin to thrust shallowly and you feel his length twitch against your tongue, he gives you a little warning tap on the shoulder. You know he’s close, you double down your efforts rolling his balls in the palm of your hand, hollowing your cheeks more firmly as he gasps above you.

“Babe, please I’m gonna… I’m gonna cum soon.” He pants out.

And that is in fact your goal, you want him to cum deep down your throat. You moan around him, swallowing him down greedily.

Both his hands drop to your shoulders gripping them tightly as he thrusts forward just a little more, his cock pulses in your mouth as a steady stream of cum hits the back of your throat. You gulp down as much as you can, some trickles from the corners of your mouth as he pulls out shakily. You scoop it up with a finger pushing the rest into your mouth, sucking it down with a moan, eyes fluttering closed. You suckle on your own fingers a little longer than necessary before he’s pulling you up from the ground to face him. He eases your hand out of your mouth and presses his lips to your own, tasting himself on you as your lips part inviting him in.

His forehead rest against your own as his lips break away from yours to mumble, “Fuck, that was amazing.”

You hum in response.

His hand trails down between you, slipping under your apron he teases the skin at the top of your waistband. You reach behind yourself, tugging on the apron strings until they come apart and you let the fabric fall to the ground between you. He grins, pushing his hand into your pants rubbing you over your ruined panties, “What did I say, huh… you’re absolutely soaked. Is that what sucking dick does for you? Or was it just thinking about it that got you worked up?”

You whine, squirming against his hand as he presses it into your puffy lips and circles your swollen clit.

“You gonna answer me, or are you that cockdrunk?”

You nod finally managing to speak up, “Yeah, I was wet just thinking about it… the whole time we were… we were cooking… I just… I just…”

He continues pressing circles into your folds firmly, putting on a soothing voice he whispers in your ear, “Oh, sweetheart it’s ok… I know...”

But he follows this with a dark chuckle, “I have an idea, but you’re not gonna like it.” His touch recedes somewhat until he’s just barely brushing his fingertips against you.

You whine desperately, hips pressing forward searching for more contact, but he pulls away completely. Moving to tuck himself away he pulls up his pants.

“You said you could hold out if you wanted, well I think I’m just going to make you.”

Your eyes widen, your hand coming to grip his arm, “Please, no. I’ve been good, please sir.”

“Ah, ah no amount of begging is gonna change my mind. You wanted me to wait ‘til after dinner. You thought you could make it that long too. So, it stands to reason that you should be able to now, right?”

“No, please.” You all but sob out.

He caresses your cheek, “Awww, baby I think you can do it… for me?”

Now he’s gone and done it, he had to utter those magic words. You sigh, mumbling softly in agreement, “For you.”

He grins broadly, “That’s my good girl. Now the oven still has a little more than twenty minutes left, how about we clean up here and set the table.”

“Ok.” You reply, pouting and hanging your head.

Kitchen tidied, table set, you’ve been squirming the whole way, your slick cooling against you a constant reminder. The buzz of the timer going off snaps you to attention. You fumble with a tea towel moving to get the dish from the oven but Eddie stops you with a hand on your arm.

“Here let me get that, you just sit your pretty little butt down at the table and I’ll bring it over.”

You do as he says sitting in your spot, you begin rocking back and forth against the seat beneath you, almost unconsciously seeking some relief. When Eddie brings out the food he narrows his eyes at you, mouth turning down. He admonishes you, “Hey none of that now, I know you can control yourself.”

Your hips halt in their motions, you look up at him apologetically, “Sorry, didn’t mean to.”

“That’s better.” He piles food onto your plate before serving himself.

You protest, “Hey, that’s way too much! I can’t finish all that!”

“If you don’t finish your dinner, you don’t get your ‘dessert’.”

“But we didn’t make any dessert… oh, oooh.” You hum in realisation.

He chuckles at you, maintaining his domineering attitude “You can be such a dumb little cockslut sometimes, can’t you?”

You whine at him, “Not fair, you know I’m… distracted at the moment.”

“Oh, I know baby. Now come on and eat your food.”

“Please take some off my plate, I can’t. You know I already ate a little before.” A little smirk threatens to break through.

He falls for your bait, asking, “Hmmm, what’s that? What did you eat sweetheart?”

“Your cum… your cock… your fingers. Don’t you remember? You stuffed me so full, don’t even know how I can manage another bite of anything.” You tease, batting your eyelashes at him.

He groans, “Don’t be cheeky now or I’ll make you wait even longer.”

“Please, just take some off my plate. I promise I’ll finish it.”

He concedes holding out his hand for your plate, “Alright, give it here.”

He scoops what should have been the rest of his portion onto his plate before handing it back and tucking in.

You wolf down your food any sense of decorum out the window and he lets you, eyes glittering in amusement as he takes his time savouring every bite.

You finish long before he does, you know he’s dragging it out on purpose, you know that’s why he initially piled your plate so high. You huff crossing your arms over your chest, trying to subtly squeeze your thighs together, but it provides little relief.

He gives an exaggerated groan, eyes fluttering shut, tossing back his head as he swallows, “God this is amazing, babe. You really outdid yourself with dinner.”

“Oh, shut up you ass and just finish eating already. Don’t act like you don’t know what you’re doing. We both know what you’re doing.” You huff.

He smirks back at you, clutching his chest dramatically, “Me? I’m perfectly innocent. Just enjoying this wonderful meal my gorgeous girl and I prepared. Can’t I do that?”

“It’s probably fucking cold by now just hurry up.” You grumble back.

“Yeah, it is, but you’re not cold, are you? Still all hot and bothered for me?” He teases.

You ball up a napkin and throw it at his face, “You’re mean. You’re so mean. If you keep this up, I may just have to go take care of myself.”

He growls at you, “You wouldn’t dare, you know I’ll punish you if you do.”

You poke your tongue out at him, “So what if you do? I can take it!”

He takes on a warning tone, “Easy now, don’t wanna go saying something you’ll regret. Just be a little more patient, I’m almost done.”

You roll your eyes, “Ugh, fine.”

You are quite literally on the edge of your seat when he takes his final bite, still he takes his time placing his cutlery on the plate gently, taking a sip of his drink, dabbing at the corners of his mouth daintily with a napkin. You’d laugh if you weren’t so frustrated, you rise from your seat grabbing him by the arm and dragging him out of his chair towards the bedroom.

“Babe, what about the dishes?” He asks in mock protest with a chuckle.

“Forget the fucking dishes I need you right now!” You growl at him.

“Oh, princess needs me now does she? Well, I am happy to oblige.” He allows himself to be led to the bed and you shove him down forcefully, pushing him to lie back with a palm on his chest.

Moving to straddle him before he can react, grinding down on his crotch you can feel his dick straining at his jeans, his cocky little smirk never dropping. You can’t even think of a smart-assed remark regarding his situation, whining desperately as you rub against the rough denim between you, “God, fuck… yes finally.”

He grabs your hips slowing their movements, “Easy now sweetheart, take your time.”

Your hips fight against his grip so he brings them to a complete stop, “Oh, you… you…” you whine, you know what he wants, you know what he’s waiting to hear. You let out a desperate little moan looking down at him, biting your lip before continuing, “Please, sir. Please I waited so long… I was good for you, wasn’t I?”

“That’s it sweetheart, beg for me. Beg to ride my cock.”

“Please let me have it. I need it… I need you… only you.”

“Alright, go on take it out.” You don’t hesitate in undoing his belt and rolling down his pants and boxers to his knees once more as his grip on you loosens.

“Enjoy your reward, you were such a good girl for me. You waited so long, I’m so proud of you.” He croons as you lift your hips from his rucking down your own pants and underwear leaving them tangled around one of your ankles losing patience along the way.

You line up his cock with your weeping hole and he slides right in, all too easily as you moan wantonly.

“Tell me… tell me again how good I was for you, Eddie. Please.” You plead as you bounce along his length, the hair at his base tickling against your swollen clit.

“Oh, sweetheart you were perfect. Such a good little slut, taking everything I give you.”

“God, yes! Fingers please…” You wail and he offers you his hand.

You grasp his wrist pulling his first two fingers in your mouth, suckling on them greedily, drooling and moaning around them.

He takes his free hand to press tight little circles into your clit, bucking up into you and your eyes roll into the back of your head. He growls at you, “God, look at you, taking everything I give you and then some. My perfect little slut.”

Your walls begin to tighten around him, pleasure courses through you sending tingles throughout your body.

“That’s it baby, cum for me.”

You cry out, your moans muffled by his fingers as your walls flutter around him soaking his cock with your cum. You collapse limply in his arms, breathing heavily as his fingers slip out from between your lips. He continues thrusting up into you, brushing your hair out of your face as he croons, “Oh, that was a big one, wasn’t it sweetheart? See, holding out was worth it, wasn’t it?”

His hands move to grip your hips, you’re still experiencing aftershocks barely registering his words. Still dripping all over him, it runs down his length and over his balls as he groans, “I’m gonna cum too, babe. Can you feel how wet you got me… ugh God wish I could taste it… maybe I will, maybe once I’m done, I’ll eat my cum out of you along with all of yours… you want that?”

You whimper at the stream of filth coming from him, nodding your head against him.

“Yeah, you do. I know my dirty girl. God, fuck… I’m cumming!” He cries out, hips still pistoning away as he floods your cunt with his warm, thick release.

His head drops bumping against your own, you can feel his heart pounding away in his chest as it rises and falls with his ragged breaths.

“Fuck, babe I should keep you on edge more often, you couldn’t even wait to get out of our clothes properly.” He chuckles as his dick slips out of you, your combined fluids slowly dribbling from your entrance. He rolls his jeans off all the way, from underneath you.

“Please, babe I can’t even think straight right now.” You whine back in response.

“That’s right, ‘cause I got you fucked dumb and stuffed full of cum.” He teases, giggling “Hey, that rhymes, ‘fucked dumb and stuffed full of cum’ maybe that’ll be our next song, whatta ya think? Another dedication to you?”

“Oh my God, you are horrible, you know that?” You exclaim disentangling your own pants from your leg to join his at the base of the bed.

“Oh, am I now?” He flips you over, pausing only to remove both of your shirts.

He grins up at you as he positions his head between your sticky thighs. His long curls tickling your legs, he continues, “Are you still, gonna think I’m ‘horrible’ when I’m eating our cum out of your pretty little pussy?”

You don’t even get a chance to answer as he dives in, obscenely slurping up everything your messy cunt has to offer. Your response dies on your lips as he draws a strung-out moan from you with his ministrations. Dragging his tongue all over you, between your folds, along your thighs, delving down between your asscheeks a little. You’re trembling beneath him still sensitive from your last orgasm, when his tongue prods at your clit you scream, “No, stop no please… it’s too much I can’t take it Eddie…”

He pauses looking up at you his chin glistening in a mixture of drool and your combined cum, “You know your safeword sweetheart, if you need to use it go ahead. Otherwise, ’m not stopping ‘til I get at least one more from you, you can do that can’t you? Cum for me, just one more time… for me?” He gives you the most adorable pout and you can’t resist, biting your lip and nodding with a pathetic whine.

He grins devilishly, “That’s my girl.”

Before you know it, his lips are at your entrance once more, tongue delving in deep, giving your poor little clit some respite. His hands clamp down on your trembling thighs keeping you spread wide open as he fucks you on his tongue, you whine above him twisting your hands into his hair, pulling slightly. He growls into you and his tongue moves back up to your clit, flicking at it and sucking hard, you pull even harder on his locks but he persists. You writhe beneath him screaming out in pleasure and pain as he works your oversensitive nub.

“Please… pleasepleaseplease…” You don’t know what you’re begging for, unsure if you want him to stop this torture or continue ‘til you’re gushing all over his tongue.

He continues nevertheless, grinning into you and bringing one hand to press into your soft, spongy walls, grazing over you repeatedly in just the right spot. Your hips rise off the mattress pressing into his face as an overwhelming sensation courses through you, clamping down on his digits you feel a stream of hot liquid squirting out of you, dousing him and the bed beneath you.

You collapse back down on the bed panting and shaking like never before.

He sits up gaping down at you, “Holy shit babe, you just fucking squirted. Jesus H Christ I wanna do that again!”

He moves to tackle you but you manage to hold him back with a hand to his chest, “Enough, let me catch my breath.”

He knows when to back off and does so with a pout. Moving to sit beside you and pulling you to lean against his chest, he runs a hand through your hair soothingly, humming a tune in your ear.

“Still think I’m ‘horrible’?” He asks softly.

“Oh, the worst, absolutely incorrigible, but I love you anyway.” You smile up at him.

“God, I love you too, babe.” He presses a kiss to the top of your head.

“We gonna clean up?” You ask a little reluctant to actually get up, savouring the skin-to-skin contact you share with him.

“Nah, let’s just sit here for a bit, enjoy the afterglow. Still can’t believe you actually squirted… that was… we have to do that again.”

You chuckle at his eagerness, “Save it for next time rockstar.”

“Yeah, yeah whatever.” He pulls you closer, wrapping his arms around you, you sigh contentedly.

#eddie munson fic #eddie munson smut #rockstar!eddie #rockstar!eddie x reader #eddie x reader #eddie munson x reader #eddie x y/n #eddie munson x y/n #dom!eddie x sub!reader #part 2 #Why Don't You Put on a Show

[determinedowl23]

My own Voices designs!! I wanted each of them to have their own distinct color and article of clothing, which was inspired by @bubblybloob’s designs for them. Individual notes below the cut:

Broken: I wanted his outfit to look haggered and worn. At first I was thinking to have his outfit be like a medieval prisoner’s, but I also added elements of friar robes to go along with Tower’s offer of making us a priest for her. I also made his beak chipped and made it that he doesn’t have the lower set of feathers on his wings (Idk what they’re called- primaries and secondaries I think?)

Cheated: I was stuck on Cheated for so long lol I had no idea what I wanted to do for him. I asked a friend for some medieval outfit ideas and eventually he came up with an executioner and I loved it. He is bitter about his death to Razor. He wants to find a way to kill her himself and will do anything to make sure, even consistently sacrificing LQ in order to get more Voices and become more powerful. And there’s the obvious blade theme going on. I’m pretty sure I had a third reason for it that I forgot too 💀 Now that I’m thinking about it, the Razor route actually kinda mirrors the Witch route, but the roles are swapped…

Cold: I wanted him to wear something an assassin would wear, so I just gave him a cloak lol. I thought that would be a little boring, so I made the front of it look like a scarf. Because…….. he’s Cold.

Contrarian: The obvious thing to do was make him a jester, so I did. The top half of his collar and the color are inspired by Sophist because the Party Crashers brainrot never leaves (I’m watching the Vernias Subathon as I’m writing this post) and if you’ve seen even one of his videos- especially a Mario Party one, you’ll know that he and Contrarian have basically the same personality.

Hero: He’s the main guy, and obviously a hero, so I gave him a knight helmet and cape. The color of the helmet feather changes based on what your Chapter II is (ex. his feather will be magenta during Damsel to match Smitten, and it will stay magenta during Burned Grey. Honestly I may change this lmao) and it’s black in the endgame sequence. He also shifts his cape so that the clasp is in the center during the endgame.

Hunted: Hunted has a torn and tattered vest that’s green to help with camouflage. He and Paranoid have the largest eyes, both because they are always on the lookout for a threat, but it’s more obvious for him and his prey nature. He’s the best flier of all the voices- in fact, he honestly might be the only one who can fly.

Opportunist: Sleazy loser car salesman. He’s the most put together (physically) of them all, and uses this clean look to make himself look “professional” so he can weasel his way out of a sticky situation. I might change his yellow to something less bright, I’m not sure if I like it. I just wanted to make sure his color was distinct enough from Hero’s and Skeptic’s.

Paranoid: His hat and shoulder cape are that of a plague doctor’s, since he single-handedly keeps you alive during Nightmare, and even when Hero takes over the Heart Lungs Liver Nerves™ it’s still Paranoid who’s calling the shots that he thinks are the best. He and Hunted have the best self-preservation skills and best survival instincts.

Skeptic: Honestly Skeptic’s personality was hard for me to identify when I first met him, but I view him as someone who’s skepticism comes from a place of curiosity and an itch to learn as much as he can before coming to a definite conclusion. So I gave him a stereotypical detective cape

Smitten: He’s a bard serenading his beloved Princess! His vibrant magenta outfit represents his love for the darling Damsel <3 His outfit was pretty straightforward lmao. Also, his and Opportunist’s chest feathers are meant to resemble an ascot.

Stubborn: Originally I wanted to make him look like a gladiator, but I didn’t want to give him armor so that Hero would feel more distinct from the others. Plus, he just wants an all out brawl where you and your opponent are even, and if he doesn’t believe in traps, I don’t think he’d believe in armor. Because of that, he doesn’t care too much about clothing. A simple sash will do- a red one so that the bloodstains will blend in. He has a scar over his chest and his eye he gained from the fight with the Princess in Chapter I.

#owl draws #slay the princess #stp voices #should I tag all of them? #yeah I will #voice of the broken #voice of the cheated #voice of the cold #voice of the contrarian #voice of the hero #voice of the hunted #voice of the opportunist #voice of the paranoid #voice of the skeptic #voice of the smitten #voice of the stubborn

[healthy143]

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[whatsonmedia]

Music Monday: Hitlist Of the Week!

WhatsOn editor, Adam Humphries has come up with this week's hitlist of music. Music has a special power which in one place can heal the soul and rejuvenate, also it can bring new rush of hope. Here is the music list of the week for adding it to your playlist and grooving to it. Baytrees - Baytrees release sticky and sensual new single 'Lover'! Baytrees new single which is a nice slow down pace and is reminiscent of 80's/90's smooth R&B. Though Lover is an intimate number and echoes sounds similar to old school love songs that 80's/90's teens grew up with it's still one of those tracks that you can't help but enjoy to some degree.  https://open.spotify.com/track/7kfjerWAoiUVrVAOnir3yG?si=4uEVCNJsR7euqagQfb4Pcg&utm_source=copy-link https://youtu.be/-tESVEddf4M As a love song it's got the intimate lyrics which when you hear a few times over sounds as though the tune itself is a 1-2-1 between yourself and Baytrees themselves  "One touch one kiss one dance" Chloey Rose - Epic new CHLOEY ROSE summer pop ballad 'Golden Sun' out today! Now what do you think happens if you were to mix the musical elements of Kate Bush, Taylor Swift, The Cranberries and Dido, this little number by upcoming musician and singer Chloey Rose. Her tune Golden Sun is an example of brilliant female rock in itself, listen enough times you'll see why her music is in a similar musical vein to artists such as Dido, Kate Bush and Taylor Swift  https://open.spotify.com/track/2YUzPLyB2wPzaiYgtHm2Cg?si=lK5brVL0Tx-fx-p3Qx_cHw&utm_source=copy-link https://youtu.be/zelugDUEUhU Definitely one for the playlist and has that upbeat feel to it and it's not too complex that you can't sing along with it "Feels like I'm fading/Reaching for the light/Focused, ready" Daniel Carson - VIDEO: Stellar cast of musicians on Daniel Carlson's trippy "Light Lab" Music maestro Daniel Carlson's next tune Light Lab may sound like something of an upsetting heartbreaker of woe but it has something a bit more defined about it. The pace and tone of the song itself has a sombre feel to it yet it has its touching moments. When you listen to it after a few times it has a sort of empathic feel to it, a bit you're having a crappy time of it all but I can sympathize to some degree  https://open.spotify.com/track/56Oy5SCu6jwp3AoL7OKPYE?si=nPGlmFpGRqu_O3P65UTW6w&utm_source=copy-link https://youtu.be/j-SUWoecTYQ The lyrics are just so cleverly written as it's one of those where they clearly come from emotional places deep within and about self reflection  "It takes a while to rewire/it takes a while to remember" Lifecycle - LIFECYCLE channel early 90s rave with wobbly FM synth bass and pounding tribal rhythms! No Stopping  As part of their Colour set Lifecycle have unleashed their latest single which pays homage to early 90's dance house music. As someone who grew up in time to listen to groups like 808 Pacific State and The Shamen it's certainly delivered on that note. No Stopping is on a similar wavelength to the sounds it references yet it manages to keep one foot in the present. https://open.spotify.com/track/3WMYeb2D3JhjbLDYKeT2YL?si=FhYftAo2Q8mlUWSQhVPtZQ&utm_source=copy-link https://youtu.be/aaf1IFVNCQc As you'd expect with 90's dance music both the lyrics and tune beat are both uplifting and have that oomph which give it that little bit extra.  "No Stopping/no Stopping/no Stopping you/ no Stopping you/no Stopping you tonight " Read the full article

[babettekourelos]

Flour Power

Flour is flour, right?

Wrong!!

All flour is definitely not made equal. Not only do we need to differentiate between cake flour, bread flour and all purpose flour - we also have to consider the differences between commercial and artisanal flour i.e. bleached/unbleached and roller milled or stone ground flour. Not to mention organic flour, enriched flour, whole wheat and rye. Gluten free and alternative flours are also worth discussing but will form the subject of a different article.

If we were to take a look inside most pantries around the world, we would in all likelihood find a bag of cake or all purpose flour. These flours are perfectly suited for the occasional weekend or holiday bake. In the last 12 months however, another flour has become prevalent in our kitchens... I am of course referring to bread flour. As a result of the lockdowns imposed by governments across the globe in response to the Covid-19 pandemic, the world watched a bread baking revolution unfold on social media. When our survival instincts kicked in, flour became a hot and very scarce commodity. Bread after all is and has always been the staff of life. Suddenly GLUTEN was the least of our problems and everyone scrambled to get their hands on the last available bags of flour. Even the folks who had never baked a single thing in their lives prior to the pandemic, now boasted well stocked baking cupboards but had no idea where to start. I am guessing that many have eventually taken the leap and at least baked a handful of times - but for those of you who are still sitting on the baker's fence, hop on over and let me guide you the first steps of the way.

First off, we have cake flour. As the wheat flour with the lowest protein content (5% - 8%), cake flour is perfect for making soft, light and airy baked goods such as cakes, cookies or pancakes. Cake flour is made from soft spring wheat and due to the low protein content, this flour is not suitable for bread baking as it is impossible to achieve a strong gluten structure which consequently results in a dough which cannot retain its shape (unless it is baked in a bread tin). Cake flour is able to absorb more liquid and sugar than all purpose or bread flour and thus your baked goods will stay moist for longer. Yum!

Pastry flour has an 8% - 9% protein content, which results in a slightly more developed gluten structure, which in turn allows for easier shaping and handling of the dough. Pastry flour is best suited for flaky pastries, sweet or savoury pies, tarts and quiches. Not as common as cake, bread and all purpose flour, you will probably struggle to find pastry flour at your local grocery store. You may have better luck sourcing it from a speciality bake shop or online.

Next up, we have all purpose flour. This flour is pretty versatile, as it is a perfect mix of soft and hard wheat flour. With a protein content of 10% - 12%, this flour is well suited for bread baking as it is capable of forming a decent gluten structure. All purpose flour is most commonly found in North America, where it is the go-to flour for most types of baking. You can easily make your own all purpose flour by mixing together equal amounts of cake and white bread flour. If a bread recipe calls for all purpose flour, but you only have bread flour on hand, don't stress - you will still be able to bake a decent loaf of bread. There really is no reason to over think it.

Bread flour usually has a protein content of 12% - 14%. Due to the high protein content, this flour is able to produce a strong gluten structure, which will allow the dough to easily retain its shape. The final loaf will also boast good volume and yield a wonderfully chewy crumb. The terms whole meal ,whole grain and whole wheat are often used interchangeably and simply refer to bread flours containing varying degrees of the entire wheat kernel. If you are looking to incorporate more whole grains into your diet, you can easily replace half of the amount of white flour required in a recipe with the same amount of whole grain flour. Whole grain flour boasts a slightly darker colour (think brownish/tan) and coarser texture as a result of the presence of the wheat bran. Unlike pure white wheat flour, baked goods made with whole grain flours will be a little more dense, heavy and compact. This is due to the fact that the bran is razor sharp and easily severs the delicate gluten strands, which severely weakens the dough structure and thereby inhibits the size of the final loaf. However, rest assured that while you may be sacrificing volume, the final loaf is guaranteed to offer a tastier and more wholesome loaf than a standard white loaf.

Next we have rye flour. Rye falls within the wheat family but has a low glutenin content, which consequently results in a lower gluten content in the dough and the final loaf. (Note: Gluten = a full/complete protein and is formed out of the two partial proteins 'glutenin' and 'gliadin'.) People who suffer from slight gluten or digestive issues, may find it beneficial to favour rye bread over pure wheat breads. It is important to note however that some folks incorrectly assume that rye is gluten free. Although lower in gluten, it is definitely not gluten free. It is also worth mentioning that the three types of commercially available rye flours (light, medium and dark) actually do not refer to different varieties of rye, but rather to the amount of bran left in the flour. Thus, the darker the rye, the more whole grain the flour. The lighter the rye, the more refined the flour. When it comes to baking, the texture of rye can be a bit intimidating if you are new to rye - it is sticky and tacky and a little tricky to control. So you may want to consider using a mix of 50% white flour and 50% rye instead of immediately tackling a 100% rye recipe. Although rye is considered by some to be an acquired taste, I believe the only reason people think they do not enjoy rye is due to the common addition of caraway, cumin and sometimes fennel seeds. You can easily omit these fragrant seeds and enjoy the natural taste of the rye instead.

When you are just starting to bake bread at home you, you have the wonderful opportunity to make informed decisions about the type of flour you will be using. Thus it is important to understand the manner in which the wheat was grown, harvested, milled, and which (if any) additives are present in the final product. However, before I delve into the finer details, I would like to mention that no matter what flour you do decide to use when baking at home, your final loaf will be a million times better and healthier for you (and your family) than the commercial sandwich loaves from your local super market. So if after reading this article and weighing all your options, you still decide to rather buy bread than bake your own, I urge you to seek out your closest artisan baker - who (if worthy of that title), will take the necessary care on your behalf.

Stone ground, unbleached flour is the flour of choice for most artisan bakers. Sometimes referred to as artisanal flour, this flour (if true to its name) should be free of pesticides, preservatives and any other additives. When flour is milled using millstones as opposed to high-speed roller mills, more of the natural goodness of the grain remains in tact. This is due to the fact that stone milling doesn't reach the same high speeds or searing temperatures, which ensures that most of the nutrients remain undamaged and are not burned off. Furthermore, stone ground flour is also more likely to be composed of the entire wheat kernel. I.e. It still has the wheat bran, endosperm, and wheat germ in tact. (Having said that, I would still recommend checking with the miller, as this may vary from brand to brand.) The advantage of having all three components in the final flour, is that you are getting all the natural goodness (vitamins and minerals) as well as the added benefit of the fibre which is provided by the wheat bran.

Commercial flour on the other hand, has the wheat germ and bran removed in order to extend the shelf life and to produce a whiter, more refined flour. This flour is often bleached using chemicals such as chlorine, bromic acid and peroxide. (On a side note, there does however appear to be some movement away from bleaching and a focus towards the optimisation of the shape of the wheat kernel - to achieve a higher yield of the white starch). Wheat germ, which is oily by nature and consequently has the tendency to go rancid, is removed from the flour. This extraction, in addition to the nutrients which were already lost during the milling process results in a flour with very little nutritional value. The solution?  Commercial flour producers add artificial vitamins back in to make the flour more nutritious. This is referred to as 'fortification' or 'enrichment'. Take a closer look next time you buy a bag of flour and scan for the words 'fortified' or 'enriched'. In some countries, the enrichment of flour is enforced by law. (In countries where bread is an important staple food, fortification is often used as a means of improving what may otherwise be limited access to essential micronutrients. Fortification has however not always proven to be successful. This is due to the difficulty of successfully spreading a concentrated amount of micronutrients into an industrial bread batch - some loaves end up with too much and others not any. It is also questionable whether those micronutrients are bioavailable.)

At this point the flour has already undergone quite significant changes, but is then subjected to further preservatives, dough conditioners, dough enhancers and other chemicals in the commercial bakery setting (which speed up or entirely eliminate the bulk fermentation time). This is good for business, but not so good for our digestion. What makes matters worse, is the fact that many of the additives and processes are conveniently omitted from the list of ingredients on the final loaf. Some commercial bakeries also request that the additives be added at the milling and flour production stage, which allows them to circumvent providing a full disclosure of all the additives. Hungry yet?

When it comes to organic flour, it is required (at least in theory) that the flour be made from top quality natural and GMO free grain, which was grown in soil containing only natural substances/fertilisers. In addition to this, no pesticides or other chemicals should be used in the growing or harvesting of organic wheat. True organic flour is also not subjected to fumigation or irradiation -  measures which facilitate pest control and prevent food poisoning from harmful bacteria. The problem with organic flour however is two-fold. One - it is considerably more expensive than the rest of the flour on the market. Two - not all products sold under the organic label are in fact organic. Business is business after all. Even more reason for the concerned and responsible consumer to start asking pertinent questions.

However, judging from the growing popularity of home mills (small counter top grain mills), and an increasing community of small, independent millers, the importance of good quality natural flour and the need for clear/honest labeling are slowly but surely becoming topics of global discussion. Knowledge is power and an informed consumer can be the catalyst for positive (and healthy) change. So don't be fooled by natural looking packaging and words such as natural, organic, 'bio', artisanal, etc... Ask the relevant questions. Take an interest in the way your flour and other foods are produced. Have discussions and share your findings. If we are what we eat, shouldn't we be paying closer attention to what we are really consuming?

As always, I would love to hear your thoughts. What flour are you currently baking with? Have you made any interesting discoveries? 

You can reach me at [email protected]

© Babette’s Bread Ltd.

[theeeveetamer]

I challenge you to write some cute, fluffy Sylvix slice of life :) Against... No one! Isn't that great? (well, you can challenge me if you want to, but I JUST WANT A PIECE OF FLUFF, okay? Pls :x)

Merry Christmas :)

(Based on that one headcanon about Felix getting bullied and Sylvain painstakingly copying his notes for him)

Edit: Adding an AO3 Link! https://archiveofourown.org/works/21947788

____________

Felix was a lot of things. A short dork with a chip on his shoulder. An emotionally stunted, overly aggressive weeaboo. … But he was never lazy or sloppy, and he was certainly never late. Especially not for Sylvain, and especially not when the redhead was the only way he’d get home aside from walking.

He’d offered to drive his boyfriend home from school last month after he’d gotten banned from the bus for punching some kid in the face. In his defense… The guy was asking for it by teasing him about his Naruto shirt. Maybe he was a little bit biased, but anyone who would talk shit about Felix deserved a swift kick in the shins.

Ever since that little incident he’d been sure to be prompt. Sylvain had practice after school and he didn’t want to make him late. Especially not on a Friday, when they were both dying to get home and forget about school for forty-eight hours.

He checked the clock hanging up on the wall. It was only by five minutes so maybe it shouldn’t have rung any alarm bells, but something was off when Felix came down the hall toward the entrance. His typical, generally displeased expression was replaced by a deep scowl, and instead of his usual backpack he was carrying everything in his arms.

“Hey Fe, are you ready to go?”

“Yeah.”

“Where’s your backpack?”

“It doesn’t matter.” He growled.

The few loose sheets of paper ruffled as people passed them by, and he clutched them closer to his chest. Sylvain had long since learned not to expect eye contact from his best friend, but today Felix seemed particularly intent on avoiding it. His eyes remained downcast and glaring somewhere off to his left, and if he squinted he swore he could see his bottom lip quivering slightly.

“Babe… Is something wrong?”

“Look, I just left it in my locker, okay?”

“Don’t you need it? We can go back for it.”

He seemed awfully upset for just having forgotten it, and he was carrying a folder for a subject Sylvain knew he needed to go back to his locker to get.

“No.”

“No? It’s no trouble, it’s not like you need to catch the bus.”

“You’ll be late for practice.”

“Aw, c’mon. Coach doesn’t care if I’m a little late.”

“Goddess, why are you so pushy?” His boyfriend took a shaky breath. “You want to see what happened to it? Fine.”

He turned and marched back into the school before he’d even offered a response. The heels of his heavy boots stomped along the tile floors, and the few stragglers still attempting to exit the school scattered around him.

“Hey! Wait up!” Sylvain trotted after him. For someone with such short legs, Felix sure could move when he wanted to.

Felix opened his locker and shoved the offending article into his hands. It didn’t look any different at first glance. Still the same black canvas with the little symbol from whatever anime Felix told him about this time… But upon touching it, he realized what Felix meant. The bottom was soaked through with sticky liquid, and a quick peek inside revealed several notebooks and an expensive graphing calculator had been drenched.

“I don’t want to ask my old man for a replacement so…”

“I’m sorry Fe. This is all my fault.”

He’d been wondering why his ex – if she could even be called that, since they’d only spent a few nights together – had come into fourth snickering like the witch she was. His most persistent shadow never seemed to know when to let enough be enough.

“Whatever. Can you just take me home now?”

He went to snatch the bag back, but Sylvain held it up above his head. Felix didn’t bother to reach for it; He just crossed his arms over his chest and glared at him sourly.

“You don’t want this in your locker. It’ll drip over the rest of your stuff. I’ll throw it out for you on my way to practice, okay?”

“Fine. Just get me out of here.”

_______________

Okay, so maybe he was more than a few minutes late to practice. And maybe coach did mind if he was late… But whatever. He had to run to the store, and it would definitely be closed by the time he got done.

Three new notebooks: Three subject, college ruled, color coordinated. Blue for algebra, green for biology, and red for history. Oh, and a calculator. Felix was using an older model so he sprung for the upgraded version. The backpack was a little trickier, but it didn’t take him long to find a sufficiently similar one online and with two-day shipping it’d be there in time for Sunday.

Now the hard part. He spent three hours that night painstakingly pulling apart the sticky pages one by one, and another six going through every page to copy his boyfriend’s sloppy, rushed writing in neat little strokes. Thank the Goddess they were only a month into the semester, so there was much less to copy than he’d anticipated. There wasn’t much he could do for the occasional sheet of homework stuffed between the pages, but he made sure to do everything else word for word. Even the practice math problems, copied step for step.

Then when the bag arrived he packed it all neatly away and set it beside his own backpack so he wouldn’t forget it come Monday.

There was still the nagging anxiety that Felix would just talk to his dad and get a replacement, but there wasn’t much risk of that happening. The Fraldarius household was still reeling after the death of Mr. Blaiddyd, and he knew his boyfriend had gotten into more than a few fights with his father over it. What exactly about he hadn’t revealed, but if it was bad enough to come knocking on his door in the middle of the night then Sylvain knew better than to ask.

His was right not to be worried. He doubted that Felix would be shuffling off to his first class of the day with his notebooks and folders piled high in his arms if he’d been able to get a new backpack.

“Hey Felix-!” He tried pushing through the early morning rush toward him, but he didn’t seem to hear him over the din. He didn’t see him waving like an idiot either, since his boyfriend had an obnoxious habit of keeping his head down as he walked. He quickly disappeared into his first class of the day before Sylvain could push his way through the early morning crowd.

What a pain. He’d been hoping to hand it to him while they were mostly alone in the halls, but this was fine too. Slightly more embarrassing, but he wasn’t about to go through all this effort for nothing.

He marched right into the Freshman homeroom class, more than a few curious eyes staring him down, and dropped the extra backpack onto Felix’s desk.

“Sylvain! What are you doing here?”

“Thought you could use this? No need to thank me.” He offered with a wink. The girl sitting behind his boyfriend practically swooned.

“I thought you were going to throw that out?”

“I did. This one is new, see?” He rubbed his hand along the bottom and pulled away, Demonstrating that it was clearly dry. “Just take it.”

“Syl…” He pulled it into his lap and clutched the canvas bag to his chest so it wouldn’t fall when he unzipped the top. He’d set the new calculator on top of the notebooks, and it nearly fell out when he went to look inside. “You didn’t have to do this.”

“Yeah, I did…” He muttered under his breath. It was his fault that his boyfriend had to deal with all of his crazy former lovers, he deserved all the kind gestures in the world. But he was pretty sure if he said that too loudly he’d be picking his teeth up off of the floor. Instead… “And hey, maybe it’ll be enough to finally get you into bed with me?”

He waited until Felix’s eyes snapped up to meet his own before he offered him another little wink. His entire face went beet-red in an instant: the only reward Sylvain would ever need.

“You-! You asshole!”

“Love you too, babe.”

He made a swift exit before Felix could kill him, and just before the first bell rang, but he was barely five steps into the empty hallway when something slammed into his back. He stumbled forward a step and nearly toppled over, but quickly righted himself. He thought for a moment that Felix might have come out of his classroom to throw his gift back at him, but projectiles didn’t tend to cling like this. Besides, was decidedly too Felix-shaped for that. The shorter man’s arms wrapped around his middle and his cheek pressed firmly against his back between his shoulder blades.

“Thank you…” He mumbled. It was quiet and muffled by the back of his shirt, but Sylvain could feel the vibrations ring through his entire body.

“Yeah… Of course Fe.” He swallowed thickly, blush rising to his own face. How did he always manage to be so cute without trying? “Anything for you.”

#Sylvix #modern au #fanfiction #Sylvain Jose Gautier #Felix Hugo Fraldarius #high school au #fluff #they love each other #mizuike

[collecting-stories]

Postcard - Jojo de la Guerra

A/N: This is modern day Newsies. I just love Jojo, its impossible not to.

Jojo starts pen palling with the reader and then they meet in person for the first time. 

///

It had started with a postcard. One that wished him a magical day and had a little sticker on it of Jupiter with a smiley face. It was the first postcard he had gotten after he had decided to sign up for a website that promoted pen pals and snail mail. Wouldn’t it be nice, he had thought, to share a little bit of happiness with someone the old fashioned way. Race had teased him endlessly about it but Jojo was set on the idea, he didn’t care that he wasn’t as artistic as Jack or as clever with words as Davey, he sent little doodles to people or funny poems he thought up in English class. He sent letters all over but mostly he exchanged them with that first person. He sent them envelopes full of stickers or little packages with facemasks and washi tape and friendship bracelets he made. They sent him letters with sticky notes that looked like moons, paint chips with quotes on them, envelopes full of confetti.  

The address wasn’t far from his own, within the limits of the city in fact. Closer to the Lower East Side than he was, maybe fifteen minutes on the subway. Once he took the line to your street and walked to the corner, where a convenience store stayed open 24hrs a day. He bought a soda and a lottery ticket and left, not sure what he was even expecting to happen. When he told Race about it two days later his best friend teased him endlessly for the entire ordeal. It didn’t dampen his mood though, or alter the overwhelming feeling of pure joy that spread through him when he opened the mailbox to find a letter from you.  

You were the one who first suggested a faster mode of communication. You sent a card that had watercolour popsicles on the front of it and inside offered your number as an afterthought to a full page of writing about a book you were currently reading. A little bubble around the digits, separating them from the rest of the note with the suggestion that ‘we could text sometimes’.  

You texted all the time. He sent you pictures of your mail going into the mailbox but offered no more glimpse of himself than a hand. You sent him a picture of something funny in Target and he thought he could just make out the tiny, blurry, obscured reflection of you in a mirror at the end of the aisle but it told him nothing about your physical appearance. It wasn’t that it was some great mystery. Maybe he would never meet you in person, maybe you would just be some entity that existed in letters and on his phone. You continued to send letters weekly and so did he, glad that this new form of constant communication did not lessen your affection for sending him small gifts in the mail.  

Sometimes you had endless conversations, sometimes days of pool games or finding the strangest bitmoji and sending it along. Gif wars and links to news articles, terrible reviews of tv shows, music, and movies. Texts never seemed to cease and yet the length of your letters never wavered either. He couldn’t find your face in a crowd but he had memorised your handwriting.  

That changed when he proposed seeing the new Star Wars movie together. It had happened spontaneously but also not. He’d thought about it for ages, meeting you in person, he had just never thought about it happening for real. But then he offered and you accepted. He would be in a red hoodie and a pair of track pants, he’d even sent you a picture of the outfit laying on his bed. You added it to the list of things you knew better than his face.  

You were already at the theatre when he got there, waiting on a bench outside the ticketing booth, watching for any sign of the boy that you were supposed to be meeting. When he saw you, and recognized the hoodie as the one you sent him a picture of, a smile spread so wide on his face you thought he could light an entire city with the joy behind it. When you stood he greeted you with a hug. The kind of warm, all encompassing hug that made you want to stay there forever, safe and comfortable and feeling a little light headed from the overwhelming emotion that struck you.  

“This feels so surreal,” Jojo commented when he finally released you, a little too soon if you were honest. He took your hand and headed for the escalator, “not surreal in a bad way obviously, just-“

It was meeting for the first time when you already knew everything about each other. When you could already list his favorites and know his people by name without him having to provide clues as to how they fit with him. It was that tiny fleeting hope that he would kiss you even though you had no idea what he even looked like.  

“Surreal,” you echoed. He offered another smile, impossibly happy in its appraisal of you.  

As the end credits rolled on the film you stayed in your seat, shifting to face Jojo instead of the screen and lifting the armrest that separated you in an attempt to move closer to him. He was reading all the names that went along the screen with a rapt interest, as if he was truly invested in who catered the food for the cast and crew. You sat on your knee in hopes of being closer, letting your other leg dangle off the chair beside Jojo’s. Where the seats conjoined was harder than the soft cushioning you’d been accustomed to during the film but you made the sacrifice of discomfort to be closer.

“What did you think?” You asked, voice a mere whisper in his ear. As far as excuses went you could say that you were being mindful of the other patrons still in the theatre but you knew none of them cared about the credits. You were this close merely to be this close.  

These were not simple like or dislike movies, they had to be dissected just so, something you had told Jojo just the other day when you were discussing the new film, and you looked forward to hearing all his opinions. He had opinions on lots of things that he liked and his emotions seemed to range from good to exciting on every rating he gave. When he talked about something in a letter or a text you could almost feel the pure adrenaline of excitement rolling off the words. It felt like everything had the potential to make him happy and, in turn, brighten your day unknowingly.  

“I feel like I need to watch it over again,” Jojo commented, finally looking toward you. In the glow of the screen you could see him smiling. It seemed perpetual.  

“I’m gonna need a few days to recover before then,” you commented, without thinking that he might not mean with you.  

He didn’t miss a beat though, wrapping an arm around you and somehow pulling you closer to him, “Race wants to come see it on Saturday, you could come with us?”  

Saturday was two days away and while you had just admitted that you needed time to process the film you thought that Friday would seem like the longest 24 hours of your life now that you knew what it was like to be with Jojo. You felt a little lightheaded by your own internal confession but you also felt like you wanted to spend every waking moment with this boy. Somehow hearing him talk and having him next to you was even better than reading what he wrote.

“Race won’t mind?” You asked. Seeing him again was definitely high on your list of things to do but sharing that time with someone else, a new person you only knew from stories, wasn’t exactly something you found yourself looking forward to.  

“No, not at all.” Jojo assured, “Usually there’s a bunch of us...I wouldn’t be surprised if some of the other guys showed up too.” Everyone always tagged along to everything, not that he minded. And he felt excited about showing you off to his friends, he’d talked you up to them so much that they were all dying to meet you, maybe as much as he had been.  

“Okay,” you agreed. The lights came back on as the final credit went dark and suddenly it wasn’t so hard to make out Jojo’s face. You were close enough that your noses were almost brushing and his eyes were bright as he watched you, waiting for something. “What do you want to do for now?” You only moved away from him as a theater attendant came in to clean up. You slipped your feet back into your moccasins and stood up, watching Jojo as he gathered his trash and stood as well.  

“What’s open?” He asked. It was well passed 1am but neither of you wanted to say goodbye. You thought that you would much rather just stay together until it was time to go back to the theater with Race. Jojo had the same idea, he would sit on a bench outside the movies with you for the entire day if it meant you didn’t leave. Texting would not suffice the way it had before.  

“Insomnia cookies is open for two more hours...and the convenience store around the block from me is open too.” You replied.  

“How are they Insomnia Cookies if they close at 3am...what I want a chocolate chip cookie at 3:30 or 4?” Jojo asked, following you out back toward the front doors.

“Then hope you have leftovers,” you teased.  

“There will be no survivors.” He replied, serious tone though the uptick of his lip suggested he was struggling not to smile.  

Insomnia Cookies was not at all crowded at 2am and, despite never being there before, Jojo stepped right up to the counter with all the assurance of someone who knew how to order from the cookie place. He got two dozen cookies, mixed flavors and two brownies and two chocolate milks after confirming that you were vegan or lactose in tolerant. “We’ll get coffee at Queen Village.”  

“They have a cat there,” you mentioned, “Cosmo. He naps around the place all day and night.” You’d gone in at midnight once for bananas and spent thirty minutes petting Cosmo and telling him how beautiful he was.  

“I stopped in there once when I was in your neck of the woods.” Jojo replied, thinking that now was as good a time as any to tell you he’d been to your favorite convenience store. “I did not find Cosmo though.”

“We’ll find him.” You promised, taking the bag of cookies off the counter. Jojo beat you to paying and ignored any attempt you made at offering money.  

Once Queen Village was conquered the two of you found yourselves in your apartment, sitting on your bed with the cookies spread out between you. It was too cold for city benches and being outside in the dark though you would’ve risked your health for Jojo if he’d really wanted to stay out longer. He was gushing over the cookies, enamored by the taste and claiming each one he ate was definitely his favorite.  

“This has been the best day ever.” He exclaimed just before biting into a mint chocolate chip cookie that was somehow still warm.  

“Watching Star Wars and eating cookies? You’ve set the bar pretty low.” You teased, reaching for an oatmeal raisin. There were white chocolate chips inside.

“Being with you.” Jojo clarified, not at all embarrassed by his feelings. If he was happy he said so and that was arguably his greatest trait. “Getting to know you has been amazing but spending today with you has been incredible. I’m so looking forward to Saturday.”

“Me too.” You replied, suddenly at ease, eager for your own admission if only to make him feel as happy as he made you, “I sort of wish we could just keep hanging out until Saturday comes around.”

“Lets.”

-

If you wanna be tagged for Newsies stuff let me know. 

#jojo de la guerra x reader #jojo de la guerra imagine #jojo de la guerra fanfic #jojo de la guerra fanfiction #newsies fanfiction #newsies au #newsies fanfic #newsies imagine #jojo x reader #jojo imagine #jojo fanfiction #jojo fanfic #newsies (broadway) imagine #fansies

[weirdiocity]

Sweating Milk?

By Sabrina Groves

It trickles down the body, leaving faint, sticky droplets in its wake. An excellent description of human sweat— minus the BO— but the opaque substance is too thick, too adhesive to fit my sweat schema.

Wet. White. Milk?

This phenomenon describes several animals, but for the sake of this article, I’ll be narrowing the focus, through alliteration, to the platypus and pigeon.

My milk definition is as short as my own body’s tolerance for its consumption— slim to none. Had I not learned cladistics, I would simply label milk as “a white inconsumable liquid that my body simultaneously insists on purging, yet has the capacity to produce.” Fortunately, there are dairy-lovers who have endeavored to enlighten me.

It turns out “milk” is actually a highly contested term with several conflicting definitions. For instance, the FDA defines milk as “food products made exclusively or principally from the lacteal secretion obtained from one or more healthy milk-producing animals.” In contrast, the scientific community labels the substance by its producers and nutrients: Mammalian milk is a secreted mix of protein, carbohydrates, minerals, and antibodies to be consumed by young. The key difference: well, we’ll get to that.

Enter: the platypus. With its duck-billed face and furry exterior, not to mention anomalous semiaquatic egg-laying mammalian body, this creature is nothing if not bizarre. The weirdiocity doesn’t end there, even its genes are unique— ranging from traditionally mammalian codes for milk and fur, to bird-like instructions for hard-shelled eggs, and even genes for a reptilian spur that packs a venomous punch. With a multitude of enigmatic features and an unusual set of chromosomes, it’s hardly surprising that the platypus displays a discharge of, shall we say: nutritious secretions, emanating from the abdomen’s underside. There’s only one problem—evolution forgot the teats.

Platypuses are monotremes, a highly specialized group of egg-laying, predatory mammals that include echidnas and platypuses. Unfortunately, as I’ve just demonstrated, the definition often leaves out “sweating milk.” In monotremes, milk production is stimulated by the hormone prolactin, which stimulates milk secretion through a series of ducts ending in mammary patches, where milk is expulsed onto the belly. This oozing spectacle looks like sweating, and aside from the substance and its creation, it’s largely the same. Fortunately for all involved, sweat is intended for evaporative cooling, and as an aquatic organism surrounded by water, there’s no need for “traditional sweat” per se. Platypus babies can sleep happily knowing their primary nutritional source is indeed “sweated” milk, but compositionally different from traditional sweat— no urea and ammonia here.

These conclusions led me to realize another gap in my knowledge— what constitutes sweat? To everyone at Oxford Languages, thank you for broadening my horizon.

Sweat (noun) — moisture exuded through the pores of the skin, typically in profuse quantities as a reaction to heat, physical exertion, fever, or fear

Since I’ve never experienced lactation, I can only assume that it’s physically exerting. To be sure though, someone should consult a monotreme. Is platypus milk sweat? Colloquially, probably. Scientifically, its combination of nutrients makes it liquid, until we develop the ability to talk to monotremes about sweat. So, go forth, and speak to the platypuses.

Now for the semantics. Are platypus secretions considered milk?

With my new knowledge, I can safely say that both the scientific community and the FDA would consider platypus secretions to be milk. So, technically you could advertise and label a bottle of “Platypus Milk”— but yikes. For the record, I do not condone or endorse consumption and/or sale of platypus bodily fluids.

Finally, applying some semblance of the transitive property, yields our conclusions:

1.     Platypuses sweat (verb) milk.

2.     Platypus milk might be sweat (noun). Let your ideological beliefs guide you.

3.     Platypus milk is not compositionally the same as human sweat.

4.     But platypus milk is similar to human milk, with some added antimicrobial properties.

5.     Platypus milk is milk; therefore, I am grossed out.

If you’re still interested in milk, milking, sweat, and sweating— You’re persistent. And probably not lactose intolerant.

Before we move forward, we need to address the elephant in the room— teats. As demonstrated by the platypus, nipples are not necessary for milk production nor are they integral to defining milk, yet humans fixate on them. Insert link to every Superbowl halftime show and fill in the blanks. However evolutionarily, nipples are just another synapomorphy. When monotremes release milk onto their skin, microbes can easily colonize it, making the mother and babies sick. To prevent this, their milk is high in both antibodies and antimicrobial properties. Other mammals use nipples. Nipples protect milk from microbial contamination by transferring it directly from the mother into the mouths of awaiting young. You have microbial contamination and evolution to thank for teats. Go educate someone.

And now for the pigeons.

My evolutionary biology professor once said, “pigeons sweat milk.” My face contorted as I grappled with my own repugnant milk relationship and the information thrust upon me. Then set in state of paradoxical confusion. You see, the scientific community regards milk and birds as mutually exclusive, yet here was a prominent member of it describing just the opposite.

Pigeons sweat milk, sort of.

In October 2012, a monumental study was published. Its authors, a group invigorated by the prospects of opaque secretions, set out to compare pigeon “milk” and human milk. Their data suggested that pigeon and mammalian milk were functionally similar, raising the question: Was lactation present in some sort of common ancestor or has milk production arisen independently in multiple organism groups?

I have no answers.

Instead, I will endeavor to describe pigeon lactation and squabs drinking milk. Disclosure for the reader: A squab is the name given to baby pigeons. I am not insulting birds.

A white substance, neither solid, nor fluid, resembling milk that has coagulated for hours into a mass of curd. I would call this “Cheese Step 1,” but for squabs it’s “Breakfast, Lunch, & Dinner.” Curd production must run in the family, because every adult seems to make it. In a land of pigeons, comes a society where gender is immaterial, the crop is a built-in kitchen, regurgitation is table service, and squabs are its customers. Maybe that’s too far.

In a bird’s digestive system, the crop is an expandable muscular pouch, resembling part of an enlarged esophagus, housed within a bird’s throat, or gullet. Normally, the crop holds temporary food stores, but the addition of prolactin stimulates milk production, just like in mammals. The finished product would be similar to human milk, but fermentation by bacteria gives it an underdone cheesy texture. Pigeons regurgitate and serve upon request. They’re not alone either; flamingos and male emperor penguins take part in this ritualized behavior, although there’s a paucity of information concerning them.

Any sweating involved?

In my opinion, “no.” Sweat, as we learned above, is an external evaporative coolant for an organism. In this case, there are plenty of secretions, but instead of liquid on the skin, the secretion occurs within organ tissue. Regurgitation moves the milky curd out of the body, rather than expulsion.

Finally, we must classify this odd pigeon curd.

Given that the scientific community regards milk as a distinctly mammalian attribute, we can only conclude that scientifically, pigeon curd is functionally similar, but different from, mammal milk. In contrast, the FDA does not restrict milk to mammals— so there’s a potential for “Pigeon Milk” to be on the menu. Sadly? Conveniently? Due to fermentation, regurgitation, and milk aspects, I cannot recommend consumption.

On that note, I think we’ve learned some very important life lessons:

1.     Sweating milk is a biohazard. Decontaminate prior to consumption.

2.    Nipples evolved for milk protection. People are aroused by milk nozzles.

3.     The FDA considers lots of things milk.

Thanks for reading and let me know what you think in the comments section below:

Would you consume platypus and pigeon milk? What was your reaction to nipple evolution? Is lactation sweaty? How did milk production evolve? What should I write about next?

Share if you know someone interested in sweating milk.

This work is licensed under a

Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial 4.0 International License.

#sweat #milk #sweating milk #platypus #pigeon #science #popscience #weird #interesting facts #nature #drink #food #its weird #weird funny #biology #ecology #ilovescience #weirdiocity

[linkalearnsjapanese]

JLPT N2. It’s a monster. A huge gap from N3 stands in the way, with only the rickety bridge of my study habits to cross the gorge. Right now, all schools in Japan are shut down due to the ongoing pandemic. Which is not something I thought I would ever say. Anyway, for reasons mysterious to me, teachers are still being told to go to work. So I’ve been spending a LOT of time at my desk lately. Which means I have plenty of time to study! (cue internal screaming)

Me, upon realizing how much study time I have now

So now I’m going to procrastinate on studying for N2 by writing about studying for N2. Here are some study techniques and materials I’m using in my quest to become 上手af.

Vocab

Resources: Anki, Tanos N2 vocab list

One day, I was flicking through TV channels and found the Japanese version of Are You Smarter than a 5th Grader? on. When the guy won, one of the kids asked him how he knew so much. The guy said that one of the things he did was study 5 new words everyday, so that each year he learned 1,825 words. I thought this was a fantastic idea and decided to do it myself. I found a vocab list from Tanos to work with. Every week, I write down that week’s words in my journal. This helps me to keep track of where I am in the massive list. Then, everyday I add the 5 words into an Anki deck and cumulatively study all the vocab I’ve entered in so far.

Blocking out my 5 words a day in my journal

If you’ve never used Anki as a study tool before, you absolutely should. Basically, Anki is a program that uses a SRS algorithm. SRS (spaced repetition study) is a study technique that spaces out reviews of materials based on how well you know them. For example, if I mark a vocab word as “easy” it may come up to be reviewed 3 days from now, whereas if I mark a word as “hard” I’ll have to review it tomorrow. The cards are very easy to set up, so you can use them for basically any kind of study. Go to AnkiWeb to make an account and get started. There’s also a free app, AnkiDroid, available on Android devices.

I also have a separate Anki vocab deck where I add words I come across in reading practice, or my daily life. This deck is non-JLPT focused, but helps me to keep adding more and more vocab to my repertoire. Plus, it’s always nice to learn vocab that I know is being used around me. And helps me read. Because I’m really bad at reading.

Kanji

Resources: Wanikani

I pretty much exclusively use Wanikani to study kanji. However, this method is very slow and steady wins the race style. Wanikani will start you on verrrrry basic kanji. Since I’ve been using it already since college, I’m at levels that challenge me. This is not something that you can jump into and will be at your level. Still, I highly recommend it. I’ve definitely noticed my kanji recognition ability improve when I’m serious about using Wanikani. It can also help with vocab!

What I like about Wanikani is that it forces you to be able to input both the Japanese readings and the English definitions. This really helps your ability to translate bilaterally and quickly recognize, read, and define the kanji. However, once you get into upper levels, the daily reviews can really pile on and it can get overwhelming. My best suggestion is really try to stay on top of your daily reviews, but also exercise judicious use of the vacation mode feature. If you’re overwhelmed by the amount of reviews, you’ll be less likely to continue to study. Just do your best, and pause things when you need to. All hail the Crabigator!

Reading

Resources: Nihongo So-matome reading book, Japanese.io, personal books

I’m not gonna lie, I’m bad at reading. It takes me a long time to read, and it’s exhausting. Part of this (a large part) is because I’m even worse at grammar, and part of it is just a frustrating lack of vocabulary.

The first resource I use is the Nihongo So-matome textbook series. They separate their books into sets. The reading book has passages to read, then comprehension questions following the reading. The readings are usually brief, but cover a variety of categories – like ads, fliers, and newspaper articles.

The next resource is one that I just found, and am still getting familiar with. Japanese.io is an online reader and chrome extension. The online reader has passages and entire books in Japanese. By clicking on words, you can read their definitions and ad them to words lists. Clicking on grammar items will give you explanations of those structures. The passages are also divided into JLPT levels, so you can select things based on your level. By using the “Feed” feature, you can also look at reading from Japanese news. You an even select your category of interest for what you want to read. Like I said, I haven’t used this site a lot yet, so I’m still learning how to use it. From what I can tell, the program is very well designed and easy to use, and looks like it will be a very valuable tool.

Finally, I occasionally go looking for real books (not structured textbooks) to try to read. I went to the Sumida Hokusai Museum a while ago and picked up a manga biography of Hokusai. I’m working through that now by adding sticky notes to pages with words I don’t know, and adding those words to my vocab Anki deck. Although this is just a kids book, I think it’s valuable to practice reading something not designed for study use. Plus, it gives me a break from the mindset of studying because I enjoy the topic and the art.

Grammar

Resources: Nihongo So-matome grammar book, japanesetest4you, bunpro.jp

God I hate grammar. I hate grammar so much. I really, truly do. But unfortunately to pass N2 and also to not sound like a cavewoman and/or small child, I need to use more complex grammar structures than “This is a sandwich. The weather is miserably humid. I do not like natto.” Sigh.

Ok, so first I have the Nihongo So-matome grammar series book. This is designed to be used everyday and introduces around 4 grammar structures a day. At the end of the week, there will be a mock test page with questions simulating those seen on the JLPT. Each day also comes with a small set of review and test questions. This series is great for giving you a structured way to introduce and study new grammar, and provides great sample sentences and diagrams for how to conjugate. what it’s a bit weak on, is English explanations of what the grammar item means. So, I highly suggest using this book together with japanesetest4you.com. I find that japanesetest4you does tend to have needlessly complicated sample sentences, but useful explanations. So use these two resources together!

I also write down all the grammar items introduced in the textbook, along with sample sentences, and add them to an Anki deck to study. This way, I have a physical copy of all the grammar I should be studying that I can add notes to, and a virtual Anki deck to study from.

The scribblings of a person slowly going insane

Bunpro.jp is a subscription based SRS grammar study site. It has tons of grammar items divided up per JLPT level. Each grammar item has an English explanation, conjugation guide, sample sentences, and linked readings that may help you understand it better. Once the item is added to your reviews, it will come up in your study. When studying, you are presented with a sentence that has something missing. You have to fill in the correct grammar, with correct conjugation. This is HARD. It can sometimes be very frustrating, just for the conjugation bit. But it is very helpful to be forced to input the grammar yourself, instead of selecting from a multiple choice. This makes sure you really know what the grammar is. If you don’t understand what the question is asking for, you can ask for a hint. There are 3 levels of hints, each giving more and more information away.

You can also input your Wanikani API key so that you are only shown furigana for kanji that you shouldn’t know yet. If you’re struggling, you can always click on a word to be shown the furigana. You can also either hide or show English in sample sentences to push you to read in Japanese. I’m not going to lie, using bunpro can be pretty mentally exhausting. It’s a struggle. But it is very valuable practice and really pushes you on your knowledge of the grammar.

Now….to study

That’s about all I’ve got for now. Yes, I know I should be practicing more listening and taking practice exams (check japanesetest4you or JLPTSensei for free practice tests) but there’s only so much studying I can do in one day before my brain fries. My best advice if you’re looking down the barrel of a lot of free time (oh hey quarantines) is don’t do long periods of study. Take it in manageable blocks a few times per day. Trying to do everything at once and pushing yourself for hours will just make you less likely to be able to recall what you worked on. Take 30 minutes to practice reading, then go do something and come back to clear out your Wanikani reviews. Don’t. Panic. This is a message for me just as much as anyone else reading this. Don’t panic, and don’t torture yourself. Study, but also live your life.  And remember most of all, that you and your worth are not defined by test scores.

Now, as learning through osmosis and/or telepathy doesn’t seem to be working, I should stop procrastinating by thinking about studying and actually go study.

Pls Luna….put the 日本語 in my tiny human brain

How I’m Studying for JLPT N2 JLPT N2. It's a monster. A huge gap from N3 stands in the way, with only the rickety bridge of my study habits to cross the gorge.

#anki #ankidroid #bunpro.jp #japanese #japanese grammar #japanese language #japanese study #japanese vocabulary #japanese.io #japanesetest4you #japanesetest4you.com #jlpt #jlpt n2 #jlpt study #kanji study #learn japanese #nihongo so-matome #Study #wanikani

[this-is-monkeyshit]

He Cheng: “Watch them closely for me.” Qiu: “UnDerStoOd.”

This is a little Drabble on the latest Ch for 19 days.

What He Cheng finds after leaving the boys in Qiu’s care. This is assuming that He Cheng really was away, (out of town) according to some other readers that noticed the strange hour on He Cheng’s wrist watch. ( the hour is shown in ch. 285 pg. 9)

 “Watch them closely for me,” He Cheng spoke into the phone before ending the call and exiting a building. He walked over to a sexy, metallic black car and slid into the driver’s seat. Being chauffeured around is nice, but He Cheng prefers to be in control of things. He likes driving his own car. 

Things had begun to steer off course a bit. He Tian and his friends weren’t supposed to be at the estate. Initially, it was only meant to be Jian yi at the estate with Hunky Big beef brother Qiu. Now Qiu was stuck playing mother hen for four teenage boys. 

“Heh,” He Cheng mused on the task he had left for Qiu, just picturing the big guy walking around and interacting with his younger brother and his friends was more amusing than he could ever admit to his...partner’s face.

Meanwhile~ 

( back at the estate somewhere in the mountains)

Qiu swiftly replied to He Cheng’s orders, “Understood,” the words left his mouth instinctively. Qiu knew how to take orders and knew even better how to follow through with them. However, a menial task that was put in his care (picking up jian yi) had become a heavier weight on his shoulders. Suddenly, three more boys were added to his list of responsibilities. “Fuck..” he cursed as he stood in a corridor that had open access to the garden. In the middle of the once peaceful and undisturbed garden was a group of boys. They were barbecuing. And they were using an antique stone vessel to do so.

Jian Yi was the first to notice the white haired uncle standing off to the side, “Hey! Brother Qiu! What’re you doing over there? Come join us for some delicious bbq as a thank you for treating us to ice cream earlier. It’s on me,” Jian Yi winked and proceeded to pick another beef kebab off the grill, only to have zhan xixi lightly slap his hand away and warn him against food poisoning.

He Tian was still struggling with Mo, but this time he was lying underneath the redhead struggling against him. “It’s on you? Stupid. Whose fridge did this meat come from?” Tian quipped lightly, letting Mo try and choke him from above, he had this dancing smirk tugging at the corners of his mouth. Totally unbothered.

Qiu pursed his lips and was about to step off the shiny corridor to get after them, but he very quickly decided against it, after taking a look at He Tian. This brat and the bigger brat are alike in some ways..whether they choose to acknowledge it or not. Qiu’s eyes softened as he thought for a moment before looking over at the maids standing on the opposite side. His gaze was sharp and easily detected. As soon as he gained their attention, he made a clear gesture towards the stone vessel with a jut of his chin and mouthed an order, “Once they’re done , clean it and return it to its spot.” After the maids gave him a confirmation of understanding he gave a curt nod and kept walking, blatantly dismissing Jian Yi with a wave of his hand. He knew that Cheng would be back later that night, no later than maybe 12. He Cheng was out of town for a bit and was finally back, however there was business to be taken care of in the city before he could come home. Therefore, Qiu had to make sure this place didn’t fall apart under his care.

Later that evening~

By the time He Cheng had arrived at the estate it was indeed around midnight, just as Qiu predicted it would be. Thankfully, by this time everyone was situated in their own rooms. Well-, almost. Seeing as how He Tian had insisted on rooming with Mo (much to his dismay) while Jian Yi Insisted on the same with Zhan xixi.  

“Such sticky boys..” The male white haired male muttered under his breath as he stood at the main entrance of the large estate, well aware that He Cheng was about to arrive. He had received a text from him just minutes before. (BIG DADDI HE CHENG PULLIN’ UP)

Soon enough, a sleek car drove past the gates, speeding up as it approached Qiu who stood in the drive way, a cigarette hanging out the corner of his mouth while he scrolled through some sort of news article on his phone. “The fuck?” Qiu raised his head, practically staring death in the face without flinching. He calmly dug his phone into his pocket and pulled the cigarette from his mouth to flick off some of the ashes, at the same time he raised his other hand and flicked off the driver that came to a stop barely two feet away from him.

He Cheng grinned despite himself. This was a playful side of his that only Qiu ever really got to see or understand. To the rest of the world, he came off as stiff and uncaring, with an ice cold heart. It was likely that even his brother saw him this way too. That last bit about his brother, that shit made Cheng’s heart ache a bit because he loved his little bro, but it’s hard to show love when you work in his line of business. It’s dangerous. Cheng stepped out of the car and tossed the keys to a worker standing nearby. “Hey,” Cheng spoke softly, his voice rich and smooth as a light smile played on his lips, he looked tired. His guard was definitely down, because he wasn’t one to smile like this out in the open; even while at home. 

Qiu tossed his cigarette and frowned at the approaching male, wanting to rip open and unleash a can of hellish complaints on him, but as soon as he saw the weariness in he Cheng’s eyes, he decided to store his grievances for another occasion. 

The two of them walked together in silence. Normally silence was comfortable between them, but that night it felt a bit stifling. Something annoying probably happened, Qiu thought to himself and frowned as they passed by the spot where the stone vessel was. Except it wasn’t. It wasn’t there. All that was there was a bucket with a fish and a note that read, “I’m borrowing this stone. I know big bro won’t mind ‘cause he’s got a big heart.” - he tian “That cheeky little bastard,” Qiu cursed aloud and instantly regretted it after realizing that He Cheng was beside him.

“Who?” Cheng narrowed his eyes at Qiu questioningly, but before he could even get another word out, his back was pressed up against the wall and his lips were instantly sealed. “Mph..what’s with you..?” Cheng whispered in between the short gaps when their lips would part for air. The tension in his body dissipating as Qiu slid his arms around his waist, leaning in closer for a deeper kiss, Qiu’s tongue teasing Cheng’s lips as if digging to reach the bottom of an ice cream cone; patiently coaxing the pathway. Cheng happily obliged and parted his lips, granting Qiu more depth as their tongues intertwined and fought over dominance. There was something special about kissing this white haired male. A sudden burst of warmth would always spread across his chest. One could describe it as comfort, happiness, and maybe even love. Yes, that’s right. That’s what it is. Love. He Cheng hummed as his hands roamed and groped Qiu’s body, particularly his ass.

After a while, Cheng’s hands had abandoned Qiu’s ass and taken an interest in the shorter male’s pelvic region, he was getting closer and closer to his crotch. Fingers daring to slip past his pants and undergarments. “Hm, I like these. This material makes your ass stand out.” He smirked as his hand palmed Qiu’s crotch. Indeed, the material of Qiu’s briefs was tight fitting and hugged his ass pretty snugly.

The white haired male felt a wave of heat overcome his body, especially his face and his groin. As the taller male’s hand began palming his lower region, Qiu’s  breathing hitched in his throat, he was sensitive to Cheng’s touch. The burly man rested his head against He Cheng’s shoulder as he playfully bit into his neck. Just as he opened his mouth to speak, the sound of footsteps pattering against the floor could be heard. Qiu naturally knew exactly how many people were rounding the corner, he had quite a keen sense of hearing due to his special training. “Two of the four are passing, probably turning the corner..” He gritted his teeth and huffed as he moved to put some space between himself and the male he had pinned against the wall. Though, he did it grudgingly because of how rock solid his crotch was, it’s painful to peel away from something you want to lean into. “Fucking-” 

He Cheng furrowed his brows at the interruption, but nevertheless continued as he yanked him around the corner and stood at the edge to peek at those who had the worst timing possible. “Shh..” He lifted a hand and clasped it over Qiu’s mouth as he resumed his actions from before, picking up where he left off, rubbing his palm against Qiu’s dick and eventually wrapping his hand around the hardened length as he looked to see who was approaching.

He tian and Mo had left their room to bring back the stone vessel. Currently He Tian was carrying it and leading the way and Mo was standing next to him hissing angrily, trying his best to keep his voice down as a guest. 

“You fucking crazy bastard. This is my first time visiting and you’re already trying to pull off your shitty games. Your dad--I mean, your brother, is fucking mafia boss level scary! Put the stone vessel back where it belongs before someone sees us!” Mo had a deep scowl etched onto his face. It seemed to be his default expression these days. 

He Cheng smirked and cocked a brow at Qiu after looking away from them. So that’s why you pounced on me like a dog earlier, with a sly grin shaped on his lips as he peered into qiu’s eyes, he began to vigorously thrust away at qiu’s length. Hmn, I’ll have to get back at he tian later..perhaps tomorrow. 

Qiu felt a wave of pleasure shoot up his spine and couldn’t help but cry out in response to the attention his crotch was receiving, “Ngh!” His eyes widened in horror and dark shade of lustful red dusted across his cheeks. He really was a sight to behold. Such sharp and handsome features bearing such an anxious expression. “S-stop..” He muttered under his breath and looked up a Cheng with snake eyes. If eyes could bare fangs, his would certainly be doing so right now. 

Mo whipped his head around at the odd and abrupt noise, “what was that?”

He Tian’s face fell serious as he also scanned his surroundings, but it seemed that after searching for a second, he had come to an answer. At the opposite end of the hall two shadows could be seen very faintly as if they were just around the corner. Instead of walking over, He Tian grabbed the note he had written earlier and slung an arm around Mo before dragging him back to their room. “We used to have mafia ghosts around here when I was younger. Quick, let’s go snuggle in bed to protect ourselves from the ghosts.”

Mo scoffed as he tried shoving him off, “fuck off.”

#19-days #he cheng #hecheng #qiu #zhan zheng xi #jianyi #oldxian #old xian #mo guan shan #mo guan shan x he tian #hechengxqiu #fanfic #fanfiction #19 days fanfiction #19 days manhua #qiucheng

[percywinchester27]

Unconventional Roommates (Part-10)

Word count: 2.6K

Pairing: Dean X Reader

Warnings: Pining, fluff.

Series Summary: Now that his brother is at Stanford, for the first time in his life, Dean does something for himself. He takes a step towards chasing his own dreams and moves away from Lawrence to start college, which is both thrilling and scary at the same time. Only catch, in this unknown town, he is stuck with the MOST infuriating female on the planet- the roommate from hell!

A/N: Firstly, THANK YOU for all the reblogs and replies. Your kind words are what keep me going <3

Secondly, thanks to the my princess @deanssweetheart23 for beta reading this. You are a blessing, love <3

Unconventional Roommates masterlist

"C'mon cheer up! Everyone loved your pictures," Cas patted him on his shoulders.

"Yeah."

"Dean's the new star now," Meg added, coming to sit beside him. "You're breezing through the internals, the assignments that Zach set up and now even the guys at the paper think you're some sort of messiah sent to help them with the pictures."

He smiled at his dark haired friend. Meg and Cas were being too kind too him.

"I can't use all the pictures though, I'll have to ask Y/N first."

Meg smirked. "How's the Ninja girl doing anyway?"

"Honestly," Dean said, the smile on his face slipping off, "I haven't seen much of her."

It had been two weeks since Sam's visit and all he got was a few fleeting glimpses of her as they managed their own schedules. Dean didn't know if he was better off or more desperate that he didn't get to see her. Both of them had been working weekends non-stop. The boys at Bobby's had all somehow disappeared out of town at the same time and Dean had been running from pillar to post to get all the work done. It seemed that Y/N was having a similar situation, except she was spending longer hours at work, sometimes even the day shift and then the rest of the time in the library finishing up her assignments. It's what her post-its on the kitchen counter said.

In the meantime, Dean had developed the negatives. He was glad Sam wasn't around because he had been right after all, half of those pictures were of Y/N. Smiling, pouting, staring into the distance with the fair lights reflected in her eyes a thousand times over. The angles that she had suggested from atop the damned Ferris wheel were fantastic too, and the team loved those, but what they loved more was her silhouetted figure in the periphery. She set the frame. Without her the picture seemed wrong. Incomplete. Not that anyone except Cas and Meg knew it was Y/N, but it felt wrong to add that one without her permission.

"You couldn't find a minute to ask her about the picture in two weeks?" Meg asked, disbelief coloring her tone.

Oh, he could have found time, but the truth was, Dean had been avoiding her. Mostly because facing her would mean facing his feelings, but also because he didn't know if he could control himself from pulling her flush against him, and maybe… maybe kissing her.

That was how he'd make it to the front page of the newspaper. Local college boy murdered. No evidence has been found; the roommate was last seen exiting the scene of the incidence covered in a sticky red substance.

Dean shook his head, dismissing the thoughts.

"Anyway," Cas cut in, "You have till Monday to figure out the fair pictures. We also need a couple shots of the beach. It's for another article about local hangout places, but now that they've cleared up the fair stuff, you should try out clicking in the daylight."

Dean nodded, glad to have something else to concentrate on that wasn't college work or fixing leaks and engines.

"I'll see you guys then,' Dean said quickly, getting up before either of them could get back to Y/N.

The beach was mostly empty. Given that it was Friday afternoon, the emptiness surprised Dean. Shouldn't it be full of people making out?

He made his way towards the shore, removed his shoes and socks and let the sand bury his feet. It felt good. The warmth that was almost uncomfortable, but not really, somehow made him feel more alive. Placing his bag right over the shoes, he trudged further, deliberately feeling the grains against his skin, the pulse of the sand that molded itself around him. Sometimes he wished he could be like that and mould himself around a situation instead of be buried in it.

"There you are!"

Dean almost jumped out of his skin, mostly because he'd been missing her voice right about then and thinking about how appealing the depth was.

"I scared you, didn't I?" She came from behind, her hand landing on his shoulder. Dean jumped again, but this time for completely different reasons.

"If I didn't know better, I'd think you were avoiding me, Winchester," she said lightly.

She didn't know better, because he had been avoiding her.  

"I'm sorry," he said earnestly.

I'm sorry for not leaving replies to your notes. I'm sorry for taking shifts when I knew you would be home. I'm sorry for being hopelessly in love with you.

"It's okay, Romeo," she said, reaching out. Dean hesitated, then slid his fingers along hers, catching hold of them.

"How did you know I was here?"

Y/N shrugged. "I saw you from the street when I was heading home from the library, and beach in mid afternoon is totally something a sane person would do." Ever so sarcastic. "So I followed you out of concern."

"That's very sweet," he said, narrowing his eyes in mock suspicion. "Who are you and what did you do with my roommate?"

Her laughed sparkled more than the clear blue water stretching for miles ahead of them.

Hand in hand she led him to the water till it crashed against the bare skin of his feet, pushing the sand away.

"I like coming here a lot," she said. "I remind myself to be more like water."

"How?"

"Well, it crashes ahead when it wants to, goes back when it wants to. Nothing here can affect the sea. It affects everything else. The trees, the wind and even the rocks. I love the raw power it holds."

Dean scoffed.

"Something funny?"

He shook his head. "No. It's just that before you came, I was thinking to myself how I want to be more like the sand."

He couldn't miss the irony, could he now? The way the receding water drew the sand towards it was all but hypnotic. The pull there was undeniable. But the same wave hurled the sand so far away when it gushed forward. The metaphor was so tragic, how the water didn't care about the sand at all, but the sand couldn't help but bend to its will.

"That's perfect then, isn't it?" She said, all of a sudden.

"How is that perfect?" Dean failed to understand.

"You see, nothing can hold the sea like the sand does. The rocks break, the soil dissolves, but the sand? It settles. The sea can be turbulent at its best, create a fucking ruckus around and within itself, but the sand always has its back, maintains its supportive nature. Isn't that what you do? Deal with me?"

Dean was stumped. He didn't know what to say.

"Anyway, why are you roasting yourself in the sun?"

That got him talking. "They needed pictures of the beach. Someone is doing a column on the hangout places and I came to check if this place would be any good for the pictures."

"You'll get nothing here," she squinted at the deserted stretch of land. "Not at this hour anyway."

"You're right," Dean agreed. "I need a vantage point. This flat stretch is not of any use."

"We should get us some shade, unless you want to fry us both."

Walking back out of the water felt good, the sand stuck to his feet now thanks to the water. It made him smile.

"You don't seem in a hurry today," Dean commented as they sat down under one of the umbrellas at the edge.

She pouted, considering her words. "The person I was filling in for is back, so I can afford to go in late today."

"Yeah, but you've been filling in for this person for what? Two weeks now? I think you definitely deserve a break after all that."

"No, I'd rather work as much as I can, you know."

"Why?" Dean couldn't help but ask. "You don't really need all this money."

She looked at him quickly, too quickly. "Why would you say that?"

Dean chose his words very carefully. "Well, for starters, you had no clue what you wanted to do with the money that you won. From having lived meal to meal at one point, I know that's not how someone scrunched for money would think."

He didn't know if he was overstepping a line, but he couldn't see her wearing herself out like this either.

"There's one other thing I don't understand. Why do you let the landowner put someone in the room with you if you pay the rent for the whole damn apartment."

She shook her head. "Technically, I just pay for my room. The other half is interest."

"Interest? Interest for what?"

She took a deep breath and averted her eyes to the ocean. "I'm buying the whole apartment complex from her."

"What?" His voice was louder than he intended, she didn't react to that.

"I've been paying off for the whole place for about 7 years now. The price is all paid, it's just the interest that's left. 6 more months and I'll own the place."

He was still stumped, but she looked at him with a smile.

"Tell me Dean, have you ever been truly scared of something?" She asked, but stopped him before he could open his mouth. "Not of something obvious.. Like not losing Sam or whatever. Of something that might seem insignificant on the obvious level, but deep down, it scares you beyond anything?"

He shook his head.

"Well, I am," she admitted. "I'm scared of wasting my life. I feel like I just have this one life to learn as much as I can, you know? I want to study as much as I can, Math, Economics, Politics, Literature, Philosophy. All of it. I just don't want to stop learning… you know?

She was gesturing with her hands now, trying to convey something that meant so much to her. The desperation in her words either meant that she'd never said this out loud to anyone and now that she was, she wanted to get it out as soon as possible. Or, that she wanted to make it convincing, because she thought that he would find her fear silly somehow. First world and crazy.

But if anything, Dean just fell more in love with her.

"It sounds stupid, doesn't it?" She asked, apologetic and a little withdrawn. He was quick to reach out for her hand.

"Actually, no. It sounds exactly like you and in the best way possible."

She stole looks, shying away. Was she actually blushing?

Sam's words came back to haunt him: She loves you, you idiot!

"Really, though, imagine owning the place. Then I could rent it out and wouldn't have to worry about making money. I could start day college and Mia… my sister, she could come stay with me."

Her eyes glazed over as she described it- the perfect picture.

Dean had to say it. "You could still do that you know? Have her live with you. She's at a boarding school, right?"

Y/N nodded. "Yeah she's at boarding school. An hour and a half's drive from here. But no, I couldn't have her living here with me since I work nights. How could I ever leave her alone all night long? And then I didn't make enough to rent out the whole apartment back when we started, I couldn't trust any roommate with her."

That part Dean could understand but he couldn't understand why she worked nights in the first place and he asked her so.

"I'm used to it," she shrugged. "I started out waitressing at Ellen's, then I just got used to working nights."

"You know, you could buy any apartment you wanted, why this one?" It was musty and the lift frigging never worked.

"Have you seen the basement?" She exulted. "It's fantastic."

Dean gave her a look. "You know, you're really not helping the serial killer vibes."

She laughed. "Seriously, come on!"

Dean let her drag him all the way back to the building, watched in ill concealed, morbid wonder when she popped open the lock like a pro and pulled him in.

She was right. It was massive. Apart from the columns that made their way to the bottom, the space was clear of any and all obstructions.

"I'm really not part of this if you're thinking of turning this into a torture room."

"Oh, c'mon!" she clapped on his back genially, taking in the gloomy view before them. "Trust me torture is fun… unless you're the one being tortured. You have to agree that it's kinda cool in an eerie way."

Dean smirked, giving in to her teasing, but in reality, he couldn't help but be awed about how much she had achieved at such a young age. What impressed him even more was how different her life goals were. People wanted money, popularity, fame. They wanted to be powerful and important. But Y/N? All she wanted was to study without having to worry about the money it cost her. All she wanted was to have her sister live with her and Dean could relate to that on so many levels.

Her goals out of life were so simple that it made her stand out in their simplicity. It brought out the goodness in her.

"Promise me something?" He asked

"What?" She seemed suddenly vulnerable.

"Promise me first," he insisted.

Y/N looked scared and he knew she was scared because this required her to trust him. "Yeah, I promise."

"Once you own the building, that nasty woman living on the ground floor is the first one you'll kick out."

She was taken aback, but a wide grin spread across her lips and she pointed at the dusty table stacked in the corner. "Who do you think our very first customer here is going to be?"

Dean doubled over laughing and after a second she joined in. "Actually you know what? That old hag might be into bondage for all we know. She might just take a liking for us after that."

He cringed. "You had to put that image in my head, didn't you?"

She shrugged. "Hey, you started it."

Still laughing, they made their way to the front of the building and the lady in question popped her head out and tsk-ed at them disapprovingly. That made them go hysterical again.

"Hey Dean," she asked finally falling onto the sofa next to him, fingers clutching stomach in a gesture identical to his.

"Yeah?"

"You still want that picture?"

"Yeah, I do."

She seemed to grow speculative for a minute, then said. "I have the perfect place for you. What're you doing this Sunday?"

"N-nothing, actually." He'd have cancelled it even if he had a plan.

"I have something to do, first," she said. "But if you don't mind tagging along for that, we could go to this perfect place by the evening. You'll get great pictures there, especially the sunset."

Whole day with her? Dean knew he'd say something, or worse do something that would give away how he felt. But really? Could he even keep it in anymore? He didn't think so. Besides, he was daring to hope that there might be something from her side, too. If that was true, he had to give them a chance.

His smile must have been brighter than she expected when he said, "I'd love to go, Y/N."

He was wasn't giving up on her, on them. Not without a damn fight anyway. Maybe, not even then.

***************************************

A/N 2: Are we liking the reader yet? Or do we still think she is a stuck up bitch? ;)

A/N 3: Please do consider reblogging my work and leaving feedback. Reblogging helps spread it, and also helps against the “best posts first” option tumblr has. The more the notes, the less chance of it getting buried beneath others posts. And the comments are what keep me going. I love you guys and I’ll be in forever grateful <3

The taglist for this series is CLOSED!

However, here’s my side blog @percywinchester27-writes. You can give that blog a follow and turn the notifications on to know about updates.

UR taglist:

@deanssweetheart23  @captainradicalpassion  @docharleythegeekqueen  @sleepless-sin    @mrsdeanfuckingwinchester  @ohgodwhybloggg  @roxyspearing  @oneshoeshort  @theofficialduke  @wildlandfox  @mrswhozeewhatsis  @emoryhemsworth  @dslocum89  @justacinnamonroll  @fanfreak07  @dustycelt  @serienjunkiegirl   @thinkwritexpress-official  @babykalika2001  @daskleinevolk  @jayankles  @blacktithe7  @pensysto  @iyannamckague  @shamelesslydean  @crystallstaircase  @melonberri  @commander-meghan-shepard  @trenchcoat-angel  @smiling-meerkat  @sprnaturallover  @violinbetty  @fandom-trash-worth-it  @grace-for-sale  @katsanders  @samwinchesterfanfic  @bluestarshining  @torn-and-frayed  @adaliamalfoy  @anathewierdo  @gabavaldman  @brindz30  @heavymetalhauswife  @sdavid09  @hatemeup  @plaidstiel-wormstache  @deannawinchesterpie  @kit-kat-katie99  @jessieray98  @mlovesstories  @thing-you-do-with-that-thing   @directionernullneun  @yoursmilemakesmeloveyou  @theoriginalvicki  @angelessquirrel  @thereisnolumos  @julie121899  @mikid2000  @freekryptonitecloud  @padasteph-nie  @luna-plena-venandi  @tiffy119  @linki-locks11  @mirandaaustin93  @pjofangirl18  @hunterswearingplaid  @cookiechipdough  @superlock-on-pc   @daughterleftbehind  @abumbling-bee  @savanna1899  @imweirdandobsessed  @emilycollins11  @diariesofthebeautyobsessed  @bakabozza  @imascio08  @luvspnandphan  @stormisamystery  @atc74  @aiaranradnay  @bellastellaluna  @deansgirl215  @xristina-gkika  @almostelegantfire @infinity-dreamchaser  @roonyxx  @ericaprice2008  @akshi8278  @leatherandapples @ceisbill  @alwaysdreamingforthebest

#dean winchester x reader #reader x dean winchester fluff #dean x reader #dean winchester reader insert #dean winchester fanfiction #spn fanfic #dean fanfic #ur part 10 #anawrites #anawritesspn #Ana writes Dean #Ana writes UR #q

[veliseraptor]

more money talk from last night’s stuff, replying to some folks, etc. etc.

first off: thanks you guys for your sympathy, and your generosity (some folks dropped money in my ko-fi last night and I’m so fucking grateful) and generally just being...awesome people. I really appreciate it.

more specifically:

pennie-dreadful replied to your post “money talk nonsense under the read more[[MOR] so today I might have...”

Just thought you should know the link to your kofi is missing from your mobile header.

augh. does anyone know if there’s a good way to add it in? is it an issue with html? because...yeah that would be a nice thing to have there but I guess yeah the button isn’t showing up (also for some reason the “fic tag” link doesn’t work, what the eff is up with mobile)

not-poignant replied to your post “money talk nonsense under the read more[[MOR] so today I might have...”

I'm all for Patreon, but if you mention it once on AO3 (same with Ko-Fi) in the comments/author's notes/wherever, it will - at best - mean you get warned, but it can also lead to account deletion (I've seen it happen many times now). While donations do circumvent copyright law, Patreon does not consider itself a 'donation site' and nor does AO3 consider it a donation site. So it's...a tricky thing to do (trickier than with fanart unfortunately).

But I def think people would sign up for a Patreon. And not everyone offers extra. Ursulav didn't for years. You're not obligated to do a reward based system, and certainly not obligated to start out with one that eats all your resources. But yeah, AO3 + ever mentioning Patreon is a total no-go. I've talked to AO3 about this myself (since I have a Patreon for my AO3 original fiction) - and they have a SUPER hard line against it.

(The best way to circumvent that is to just mention that you have a Tumblr on the regular, and have your Ko-Fi / Patreon links be part of your fic posts there. I mean I still do okay on Patreon for original fic on AO3 despite never having mentioned it once on AO3? But I'm not comfortable setting up a Patreon for fanfiction, because I know peeps who've had their Patreon accounts deleted/banned for it - some folks do fine, some don't. It depends a lot on content too.)

(Antis LOVE reporting that crap).

(And one more quick side note: I would also totally throw in for a Patreon for your *articles* and comic/media meta as well?)

Thank you for all this. And yeah - I did know that about Patreon/Ko-fi and AO3 - that it’s a very dangerous area. I’d stick to mentioning it here on the blog. But yeah, I have...thought of the legal issues (and my frustration about the fact that fanart doesn’t have the same issues, sigh) and I don’t know exactly how that works? 

I could hypothetically do it, like you said, for the articles and media meta and stuff, but I don’t feel like I write enough of that to really make it worthwhile. Like...maybe I’m underselling myself (it’s definitely possible that I am) but I feel like what most people are here for...is the fic, and that’s what I do most of. (The analytical stuff just doesn’t come quite as easy or as fast.) 

I should be adding the link to my fic posts, though. Just haven’t because...again, weird shame about asking for money for fic, which I think is maybe kind of an old fandom thing? but also given all the legal issues around fic and money...ehhhh. 

(When I was poking around this yesterday I thought of a few things I could hypothetically offer - early chapters, excerpts, extra meta/commentary maybe? - but yeah, the whole legal issue is so sticky and scary and I just don’t even know.

Probably what this means is that I should try to work more on writing nonfiction, since that’s the stuff I can actually get paid for doing (once I figure out how to do that) but...odds are that’s going to continue to be slow.)

mostfacinorous replied to your post “money talk nonsense under the read more[[MOR] so today I might have...”

If you need help figuring out those forms, hit me up. I swear that's my stupid mutant power. And... is there any chance of asking for a raise at work? If your cost of living is going up, that seems like the first stop in trying to make ends meet.

I am...soldiering up and trying again today (and possibly just walking into the offices of the people in question, after checking with someone else who writes for the website and knows who those people are) so...will let you know? but thank you. 

unfortunately asking for a raise is...something that only happens yearly and isn’t under control of my boss (but rather corporate). it’s another thing I might have to suck up and actually...say something to my boss about, though, just on the off chance there’s something she can do. my understanding is no? but...maybe I’m wrong, and I probably should try to find out.

#conversating #not poignant #mostfacinorous #pennie dreadful #money talk cw

[therecipes-includingcake]

My Rawgust Experience... and Raw Avo & Tomato 'Toast'

'Rawgust' is over and we are rolling swiftly into September!

I thought I'd take a moment on this sunny Sunday morning to reflect on a few thoughts of my 'raw food' experience. As I mentioned in my previous post I didn't maintain a 100% raw diet, it was more like 85% as my view was to see it as an exploration and open my mind to new recipes and ideas, rather than a restriction which I may have felt had I been super strict.

This decision to go 'high raw' rather than fully raw was partly based on the fact I had a few family commitments and events I knew I would be attending which would have made life difficult. I decided that a 'high raw diet' would allow me to appreciate most of the benefits and enable me to broaden my raw food repertoire without it feeling pressured or frustrated.

Overall I really enjoyed the month, initially I did miss big hot bowls of porridge (yes, I still eat porridge in the summertime!) and I really missed beans and lentils- such a staple in my everyday diet.

That being said, I really threw myself into creating some amazing salads and lots of raw dressings and dips to go with them. For me, a good dressing can turn any salad from average to amazing :-) 

This is definitely something I'll be continuing, as I'd like to aim for at least 50% raw ongoing- basically, i'll be incorporating a smoothie and a big salad every day- pretty easy, right!

I'll post a recipe round up of loads of sauces, dressing and dips from my vegan community in a separate post- hopefully, there'll be lots to inspire you too!

My boyfriend, who took the challenge along with me- who also reminded me that it was his idea in the first place (credit where it's due!!) has, for the time being, decided to maintain a 75-80% raw diet, so we'll still be eating a lot of raw meals together. 

My downfall (if anything) was eating too many Bliss Balls, ha ha. I often get carried away anyway when I make them, but during Rawgust I fell into the trap of having even more excuse to indulge.

Many people I know who eat raw, typically follow a high-fruit diet. This is something I have never felt really suits me. When I've experimented with an 801010 (80% carbs, 10% fat 10% protein) style diet in the past I ended up feeling incredibly bloated with the ratio of fruit. I feel I need to incorporate more fats. Maybe that was why one of my favourite meals last month was avocado and tomato on dehydrated flax crackers.

That said, my digestion was, for the most part, really great this last month, even though I have had some tough personal challenges to content with (stress usually impacts my bowels- sorry TMI!) My tummy felt flat and I have lost a little weight. Maybe that's down to the lack of legumes and/or grains... who knows? It will be interesting to see what happens as I add them back.

I'm also not convinced that a fully raw diet is particularly suited to our UK climate during the colder winter months. I know the idea of a nourishing warm meal really soothes me and the abundance root vegetables help ground me. I wouldn't want to forgo soups and stews indefinitely regardless of any nutritional science. 

I know there are ways to create 'warmth' in the body whilst consuming raw foods by using ginger and other warming spices to 'fire up' the body, but nothing compares to a big bowl of soup in my opinion! :-) 

I also query the environmental angle. I like the idea of aiming to eat more seasonally and locally, (although i'll make it clear I'm not perfect at this by any means), so feasting on tropical fruits shipped from far overseas during our cold winter months, doesn't quite sit right with me. I want to enjoy our abundance of winter vegetable roots and brassicas from the ground during this time.

One final point of interest... I was scanning through all my old health and wellness magazines, as part of my declutter ahead of moving house in a couple of weeks and I found various articles on Ayurveda. I am definitely a Vata Dosha and interestingly one of the things it advised 'Vata's' against was to consume raw foods... how interesting!

I have not looked deeply into the reasoning behind this (but now I am curious to know more), but it did remind me that there is never a 'one size fits all approach' when it comes to food, and that we all need to be intuitive eaters when it comes to what we feel our bodies need.  

As an example, I would never directly advise others to eat animal products BUT I do appreciate that we each need to find out own way and tune into what really works for us away from societies expectation and the pressure from the media and those around us.

Most of all, I believe we need to become more curious, more self-aware, more confident and relaxed around food.

Short terms 'Detoxes' and Challenges' (such as Rawgust) create the perfect opportunity for shaking things up, trying new things, re-setting our bodies systems, checking in with any symptoms that might be showing up and reflecting on what we really need deep down.

To break the pattern of the autopilot mode that so many of us function on day to day when it comes to food and lifestyle.

So on that note, I am going to leave you with the recipe for my favourite avocado and tomato salad on raw flax crackers.... ridiculously simple, and definitely one I'll keep on weekly repeat.

I'd love to continue this conversation...

Have you tried a raw diet? Maybe you loosely follow a raw-till-4 approach? Or something else... I'd love to hear your own thoughts, experiences and results. 

Recipe: Raw Avo & Tomato 'Toast'

Ingredients:

1 avocado

A large handful of cherry tomatoes

Dehydrated flax crackers (quantity to suit appetite!) 

Fresh basil

Salt and pepper

Sprinkle of nutritional yeast (optional)

Salad leaves (optional)

Flax Cracker Ingredients:

1 1/2 cup ground flaxseeds 

1 cup sunflower seeds, soaked overnight 

1 cup walnuts, soaked overnight 

1 stick of celery, roughly chopped  

1 red onion, roughly chopped 

1/2 cup sun-dried tomatoes in oil (including the oil)

1 tsp Himalayan salt

1-2 tsp mixed dried herbs (or other herbs/spices to suit)

a few tbs water to create the right consistency (add gradually)

Method for the flax crackers:

Blitz all ingredients together in a food processor, until thick and sticky, adding a little water add needed (I used approx 1/3 of a cup)

Spread the mix to a 0.5 cm thickness over teflex dehydrator sheets. 

Dehydrate at 45C for approx 10 hours, turn over and place onto mesh sheets and return to the dehydrator for another 4 hours. 

Cut into any desired slices. Can be stored in an airtight container for up to two weeks. 

Method for the avo 'toast':

There is no real method.... just assemble everything on top of the crackers!

You can slice your flax bread/crackers into larger 'bread style' squares but because I make mine in a large batch I had pre-cut them into small squares for versatility. Either is fine.

NOTE: I originally made a version of this style of raw bread/cracker HERE. At that time I also tried a second batch and spread it out on a lined baking sheet at 'baked' it for approximately two hours on my lowest oven temperature (approx. 80ºC). I covered it loosely with foil after 1 hour to ensure the most even cook. It worked well so it's an option to try if you don't have access to a dehydrator.

#rawgust #avocado #flax #crackers #bread #tomato #lunch