#I have just discovered a new energy for cooking and figuring out what recipes I want to try to make for myself

[tayne-dot-exe]

My recent autism "I need to categorize and list everything" obsession is foods and flavors, but for just my taste and the cheapest/easiest way for me to have it whenever. Long diary post.

Like I need to list out every food I ever want, to remind myself what are all the things I like to eat and what are my options, especially trying to figure out what flavor profiles/foods are most DISTINCT from each other and if there are versions of similar stuff where I would never choose one if another was an option (eg. teriyaki chicken vs braised pork), I've basically come up with a list of things that could pass as a fairly varied restaurant menu, or a buffet catered personally to me. Stuff thats good in the cupboard or freezer indefinitely I already try to keep stocked for myself for any time I feel like which is basically an awesome munchies spread of chips, candy, packaged pastries, and ice cream, but I wish getting cheeses or fun breads didnt have such a time limit or it was easier to get/make just a couple servings of them so I dont have to plan HAVING to finish whole packs/batches of stuff before it gets moldy. But I honestly think if I had the option to star trek materialize any food any time for free I might never really stray from a list like this because while I'm not really afraid of trying new foods, when I do I'm doing it in the pursuit of finding out every possible food I want in my Repertoire. When I go to a new restaurant I usually try to figure out what is the item on the menu that has either the highest combination of flavors I either already know I like or that I can't "INTJ calculate in my head".

I wish I could try more flavors of things to compare 1 on 1 the best version of different things (love adam ragusea or babish vids where they actually do the experiment of if a regular person can appreciate differences in techniques every online recipe just Says is the best way) or even just to Know more things without having to commit to like 10$ blocks of 20 different cheeses I've never had before or even the continuous funky packaged snacks with flavors of the month that might just be made to trick people into trying 1 time and not to actually be good, we need cheese tasting parties but for every kind of food and snack you may not have otherwise organically encountered without having to spend 6$ per package of a ton of things you might not finish. I feel like maybe there was a reddit guy era of having hot sauce tastings? I feel like bbq sauces also have so much variety that you could do something like that, I'm a big sauce fan.

For most of these things I think I have pretty basic and cheap taste and don't have the palette to care about differences of fancier cooking techniques or subtle flavor differences or the best mouthfeel combination of chocolate and caramel. And to some degree theres only so many foods that bring entirely distinct and strong flavor components out there, especially since the flavors you're predisposed to liking are somewhat limited by whats familiar to you, but sometimes I'm like what if there are flavors out there I could never "INTJ calculate in my head" and have no idea I need to try in the right context to know this (like how guys will specialize in how to mentally approach tasting what kind of coffee you like). Or worse what if theres something I would love so much but could never find locally, I am so use to abundance and having the same access to things all year that this would be like a faerie food curse to me (not really, tbh stuff being even just a little more expensive than things that are easy to make and stock usually deters me anyway but "I have the OPTION to spend 30$ to have. idk lobster in the middle of Texas even though I'm not willing to spend that much hardly ever" feels different than "what if my potential favorite fruit in the whole world is not sold in any grocery store in america").

Anyway you know that post about what chicago guys put on their hot dogs. I feel like out of just my list of very flavorful INGREDIENCE I get excited when its on any thing at a restaurant, I could mix together a bunch of vegetables and condiments that maybe could be called a "salad" that I can just put on any combination of carbs or protein like "you know what every single sandwich is missing? 3 types of cheese, 4 types of pickled vegetables, sun dried tomatoes, avocado, green onions…." Like I want to see just how many strong flavors I can put together while still actually tasting most of them individually. If they overpower each other then I will not know where to cut back because maybe I just want to know that everything I like is all together and I am having it.

#tayne newsletter #Though I'm not really watching world news so idk if food is about to get even more expensive #cos w the number of ingredients I'm thinking this could be as much as getting fast food even if it lasts a bunch of meals #I only eat out a couple times a month sometimes so that would be a big jump in spending #though I don't spend much in general and having good food is the area I'd be willing to splurge more #i wish all foods did not cost money ever #I've actually been mostly fine and satisfied meal prepping the same chicken tikka masala recipe for months for most of my meals #like as far as my list of 'what foods do I like' thats one of my top flavors of all time #especially since my mindset was to cook as infrequently as possible while still eating well #I have just discovered a new energy for cooking and figuring out what recipes I want to try to make for myself

[thiswasinevitableid]

95. you just witnessed me kill a guy and I have a really, really good reason for it, please don’t call the cops

Sternclay as a super/vigilante au? sfw or nsfw, please!

Here you go! This is NSFW

Content note: this fic contains mentions of murder, serial killers, knives. Brief description of a porn scene with implied dub-con (you can skip from the part where Barclay sees the TV to the next section break). But I included lots of fluff to balance it out.

This is the best hook-up Barclays had in years. Mr. Tall, dark, and handsome has done nothing but compliment him all night, from the fit of his shirt down to his kissing skills. So now that he’s facedown on the bed in this guys brownstone wearing only his boxers, he’s so excited he can barely think.

“Almost ready” a shcck of blinds dropping, “I just need to grab one more thing. Then the fun can start.”

“Can’t wait.” He sighs, shuts his eyes as his date moves across the room. Then the movement stops.

“Who the fu-”

Horrible, sticky warmth spatters the side of his face. Startled, he opens his eyes in time to watch his date fall to the floor, dead. Behind him is a figure in dark clothes with a tactical mask covering his face and a gun with a silencer in his right hand. A figure who has just noticed Barclay is awake.

In five swift, purposeful steps he’s at the bed, and Barclay doesn’t know what to do, whether to bolt for the window or knock the gun away or beg or, or or-

“Are you alright, sir?” The voice coming from the mask is calm and businesslike.

“.........what do you think?” Is the reply his useless brain comes up with.

“You look like you’re in shock. Which is understandable.” A gloved hand touches his face, “shit, I’m sorry, I was hoping none of it would get on you. Here, hold still.” He rifles through a pocket while Barclay’s mind drifts further from his body. Why isn’t he just killing him now? Is this part of some sick game?

“Turn your face this way just a bit” the back of his hand nudges Barclay’s chin, “good, thank you. I’m going to get you cleaned up, once that’s done I need to ask you to stay here until I’m finished cleaning up the scene. And also to not call the authorities for help when I’m out of the room.”

“Why?” Nope, okay, that’s it, that’s the reply that gets him shot.

“For one, you’re not in any danger from me. You were in danger from the now-deceased Mr. Martin, which is why I killed him.”

“I, uh, h-how can you be sure?”

“Let me show you” he helps Barclay up, guides him to the body, “you don’t need to look at him, just at that.”

He’s pointing to the boning knife clutched in the man’s hand. Barclay’s guts turn to sour milk.

“M-maybe he picked that up when he saw you?”

The killer shakes his head, gently guides Barclay back to the bed and, after a moment of studying the nightstand, pulls out the bottom drawer. It contains two more knives, duck tape, pliers, and seven, severed human thumbs.

“Oh fuck. What the fuck, what the fuck?” He whispers as the man closes the drawer.

“Mr. Martin is the Bear Butcher. I doubt you’ve heard of him, because that’s the name the authorities use among themselves while insisting that there’s no need to warn the public about him. He’s killed seven men, all gay and all on the bigger side; you would have been number eight.”

“I’m gonna be sick” He tips forward, feels gloved hands catch him and easily half-drag him into what turns out to be the bathroom.

“Wait here and do what you need to. I’ll be done in fifteen minutes, less if I can manage it. And, um, you might want to keep your eyes closed.”

Barclay has no problem with that order, though when the killer (his hero?) moves the body into the tub he discovers both the reason for the warning and that he does indeed have more in his stomach to throw up.

After an eternity of iron and bleach in the air and bile on his tongue, he’s helped back into the bedroom. The man hands him his clothes, turning his back as he dresses. He’s changed too, though the mask remains.

“I, I didn’t bring my car.” Barclay says weakly, knowing he won’t have the energy to walk home and the thought of getting in a cab or rideshare sets his nerves screaming.

“I assumed, since he wouldn’t want it being abandoned to lead to someone calling you in missing. If you’re okay with it, I can give you a ride home.”

Barclay nods. The man ushers him out the front door, pausing at the threshold for a final sweep. Then he pulls off his mask. Black hair sticks up until he smooths it back in a practiced motion, and blue eyes regard Barclay gently from a handsome face.

“It’s the Altima, right on the corner.” He says, folding the mask and tucking it into his pocket. Barclay gives his address, sits stiffly in the passenger seat as a pop station plays from the speakers.

“Do you want to change the station?”

“No” Barclay inhales fine, but the exhale comes out shaky, “jesus, how are you so calm?”

“Because if I’m trying to help you stay calm, I need to model the behavior. And, um, this isn’t my first time doing this, in case that wasn’t obvious. I’ve never had a witness before, for all the usual reasons and I’d prefer not to traumatize someone. But he went off his pattern and picked you up tonight, and I was not about to let him claim another victim.”

“Thank you.” Barclay doesn’t know what else to say. His adrenaline brain suggests propositioning the man in gratitude because it’s not everyday a hot mystery man saves your life. But the rest of him is well aware that if anyone touched him right now he might scream.

“It’s my job. Or it’s supposed to be.”

His curiosity peeks out from where it’s been hiding behind his sense of self-preservation, “What’s your name? Or can you not tell me?”

“It’s Joseph.”

“Barclay.”

“I wish we’d met under better circumstances, Barclay. Oh, here we are.” He parks the car, engine still running, “do you want me to wait until you’re inside to go?”

It should feel safe; it’s his apartment, his home above Amnesty’s new location, Mama’s own little house just out in the backyard. But his hand can’t make the fucking door handle go.

“Would, uh, would you mind coming up with me? Just, just for a few minutes?”

The man raises his eyebrows, but nods. Soon he’s standing in Barclays little kitchen, hands folded politely behind his back while Barclay tries and fails to start tea.

“If you want to just point to where things are, I can do that for you. You should eat something too, if your stomach’s settled.”

Barclay declines at first, but when his stomach growls Joseph moves through the kitchen--making distracting small talk all the while--not stopping until he’s assembled a plate of crackers, cheese and apples.

“Ooh, you got the good stuff.” He steals a piece for himself while Barclay nibbles a Triscuit

“Kinda a cheese snob; comes with the job.”

They talk about food and food writing until his plate is clear, at which point Joseph suggests he get ready for bed. Without being asked, he stays by the door as Barclay finishes getting changed and brushing his teeth.

“I, uh, I’m not really sure how to, uh, end this night.”

Joseph cups his cheek, “Lock the doors behind me. You don’t need to worry about anything else; you don’t owe me a thing. You’re safe. That’s what matters.” He smiles at him for the last time and heads out into the early morning light.

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

“Hey big fella, you’ll never guess who put in an order.” Mama clips up the slip from the table she’s working; Amnesty has been busy in the week since they opened here, so much so that she’s had to help with the crowds.

“Who?” Barclay flips the pancakes he’s watching, checks the bacons for tables 15 and 9.

“Your late night visitor.” Mama winks.

He turns, spots Joseph at the far end of the counter. He’s in a black suit, blue tie setting off his eyes, and his hair is fully slicked back. On his chest is a badge identifying him as working at the nearby FBI offices. He’s clearly as surprised to see Barclay as Barclay is to see him. He’s less surprised that Mama saw him leaving; she gets up early and her window faces his back stairs

“Hold on” Mama nudges him, “did he give you trouble? Because you look pretty off.”

“No, no, just, uh, didn’t expect to see him again.”

Joseph orders hash and poached eggs, and when Barclay sends the order out, he hands Dani a slice of cherry pie to go along with it. He peeks over his shoulder; Joseph is looking at the free dessert, smiling. Then he takes a bite and makes a face that’s borderline orgasmic. Barclay looks away before he drops a hot waffle on his foot.

Amnesty's restaurant closes at 3, and as Barclay is locking the front door, he notices Joseph waiting for him in an easily visible, well-lit spot.

“You know, I meant it when I said you didn’t owe me anything. Not even the most delicious pie I’ve ever eaten.”

“I give freebies now and then” Barclay smiles, “no rule that says I can’t give them to someone who did me a huge fucking favor. And, uh” he blushes, “glad you like the pie.”

“The whole meal was incredible. You’re a very talented cook. Would it be okay if I came back?” His expression is hopeful, almost nervous.

Barclay touches his shoulder, “Anytime.”

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

“So, uh, I’ve haven’t had a chance to ask but, uh, when you’re not working or chatting with me here, what do you do? For, like, fun?” Barclay leans across the counter as Joseph licks his form clean of meringue. Barclay’s gone through twelve different pie recipes in the last month just to see which ones the other man likes best.

“I read a lot, cultivate an extensive knowledge of old horror movies, try to make decent risotto in my apartment...oh, I play frisbee golf sometimes, I picked it up in college.”

“Any interest in seeing that new Godzilla movie? It looks terrible but in a fun way.”

“Oh yeah, I like what I’ve seen of the design they’re using for the kaiju.” He notices Barclays hand resting millimeters for his own. He runs his thumb along Barclays knuckles, “are you asking if I’ll go see it with you, big guy?”

“Uh huh.”

“I’d love to.”

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

“Holy fuck babe, when you said you were running out to get breakfast I figured you meant, like, McMuffins.”

“Only the best for you, big guy. Consider it a thank you for making dinner last night.” Joseph finishes laying out the donuts from “Holes in One” next to the plate of bagels and lox from the only place that Joseph insists does them right.

Barclay wraps his arms around him, tickling his cheek with his beard, “you’re fucking amazing babe.”

Joseph kisses him, coffee flavored and light, “So are you. Still want to play chess later?”

“Uh huh. Winner gets to blow the loser?”

“I like those terms, Mr. Cobb.”

It’s been like this for the last three months; evenings at the movies or tangled up in bed, mornings in sleepy hazes on the couch or out the eat, days upon days of Joseph spoiling, servicing, and just generally loving the hell out of him.

There are also the nights or, more often, early mornings, when Joseph returns steeped in grim satisfaction. At first he avoided having Barclay over those nights or going to see him the next day. Lately, they’re together so much that it’s unavoidable that Barclay will see the lethal edge lingering in his gaze or rub knots from his shoulders that he knows were earned in some darkened room where horrors had been playing out for weeks, months, even years. He doesn’t shy away from it; he loves Joseph, and that means seeing him clearly, though sometimes what he sees sends chills across his skin. Chills that feel less and less like fear.

They’re out for a walk around the lake, trading bites of gelato, when a question tunnels it’s way to the front of Barclays mind. He waits until they’re sitting on a bench far from any prying ears to ask it.

“What made you decide to, uh, do what you do?”

His boyfriend studies him, then sighs, “A number of things. Fear was the first one; you said you don’t follow true crime, so I’m guessing you don’t know of the Janesville Strangler?”

“Nope.”

“He killed ten young women over the course of three years. He’s also my biological father. Michael Stern is my stepfather and, at my request, my adoptive one as well; my mom remarried as soon as she was sure my father couldn’t get out. He, he never turned any violence on me, but I suspect he used me as leverage with mom; she was a smart woman, I suspect she noticed something amiss but was frightened into keeping quiet. I was six when they locked him up, eight when she remarried. Mike is a gentle man, he did his best to raise me the same. But I, I never shook the fear that whatever drove my father to kill innocent people lurks somewhere in my genes.”

Barclay’s arm rests protectively across Joseph’s shoulders.

“I joined the FBI because I felt if I was able to turn whatever killer genes I have towards understanding serial murderers, I could use them to help others. Keep people safe. Ambition and skill moved me through the ranks quickly but” he sighs, “the more I rose, the more I saw how little was being done. How cases were mishandled, how if there was the slightest hint it was a cop or veteran doing the killing suddenly the case went cold, how a killer could pick off person after person and no one cared because the victims were the “wrong” kind of people. It came to a head two years ago; I’d poured all this energy into a case where the killer went after sex workers. He was prolific and obviously cruel, I fought tooth and nail for every resource I needed to track him. Officer Alex Brown was my main suspect, I was so close to getting a warrant to search his property and then they closed the case. Insisted the deaths were unrelated. I...I went up and searched on my own and” he looks at the sky, rests his head on Barclays arm, “lord almighty the things I found. I was right, I was right and I couldn’t do anything about it, he’d get to just go on preying on people and I couldn’t handle failing his future victims that way. I waited until he went on a hunting trip. Alone. Lots of things can happen to a man in the woods. And it’s hard to find evidence when his body just happens to fall near a coyote den.”

A little smile, one he tries to suppress, creeps up his cheeks, “I’ve never felt so powerful in my entire life. I decided I’d still try to play by the rules but that if I knew, for certain, someone was guilty and being shielded by either ignorance or malice, I’d solve the problem myself.” He looks at Barclay for the first time since he started his answer, face turning to shame, “I’m sorry, I, I should have given the short answer. I didn’t, I don’t want to upset you, or scare you but it’s hard not to given-”

“Joseph” Barclay carefully runs his fingers over black hair, “it’s not like I forgot how we met. I...I’m not under any misimpressions about what you’re capable of. I just wanted to know how you arrived at the solution you did. It’s, uh, it’s not what I’d choose for myself, not something I could do but, uh, I guess what I’m trying to say is that this isn’t going to push me away from you. And that it means a lot to me that you trust me enough to explain it.”

His boyfriend curls closer, “It means a lot to me, too.”

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

Black gloves on his throat, weight on his chest and when he opens his eyes it’s Joseph above him, steel in his gaze and between his fingers. He’s in a muddled dream version of Bear Butcher’s apartment

“Hi, big guy.” The thin knife slices up Barclay’s pants, “let’s get you out of these.”

“Please, please I-”

“Shhhh” Joseph kisses him, “I removed the man who threatened you. But you’re so handsome laid out like this, a victim just waiting for someone to make you scream.”

“Babe, I-”

“That’s not my name right now. Call me..” the hand no longer has a knife, is running roughly up his cock instead, “call me…”

Barclay wakes up still humping the mattress as he cums. Blindly, he reaches for his phone to check the time. It’s the fifth dream like that in two weeks, and they always leave him so horny he tries to get it up and get off again if there’s time. No such luck today; he has to be up in ten minutes.

He tries not to think about it during work, just like he tries not to think about it the rest of the time. Especially in bed with Joseph, his attentive, indulgent Joseph who puts all his organizational skills and professional practice at giving orders into domming Barclay so sweetly he stays in subspace for hours.

He’s still very much not thinking about Joseph gagging him so his screams don’t wake the neighbors as he climbs the stairs to his boyfriends place. Dani was a sweetheart and took care of his orders for him, so he was able to leave work early.

The T.V is on, volume up loud enough that he can tell what his boyfriend is up to before he even walks into the room. He fully intends to tease him for not being able to wait until Barclay was there to jerk off before hauling him into the bedroom. But when he sees the screen, he freezes.

A man in what looks like a cheesy camp counselor uniform is tied to the bed, his shirt stuffed into his mouth as a make-shift gag. Straddling him is a man in a black jumpsuit, knife near his hand and cock buried in the counselors ass.

“That’s it sweetheart, wiggle and try’n get away; you ain’t gonna and it feels so fuckin good when you try. This is what you get for leaving the window open.”

The counselor shakes his head, fear so palpable Barclay barely notices the fact the boom mic is in the shot. The killer pulls the gag free.

“Please, please, don’t kill meAH, ohgod”

A dark laugh, “I’m not gonna kill you, sugar. Thought about it, but when am I gonna find an ass this good again? Nah, I’m gonna take you back with me, keep you strapped down because you’re the, fuck, cutest goddamn specimen I ever caught.”

On the couch, Joseph tenses, cumming in the sleeve he’s using with a cry at the same moment the killer on screen cums and bends to kiss his co-stars tear-streaked face.

Joseph hits the remote, causing the T.V to go dark and reveal Barclay’s reflection.

“Shit!” Joseph leaps up, making Barclay yelp in surprise, “oh, oh thank the lord it’s just you….oh god how much of that did you see?”

“Some?”

Joseph drops to the couch, head in hands, “shit. I’m, I’m so sorry Barclay, I, I never wanted you to know about this habit, I’m sorry it’s awful.” The voice between his fingers sounds like it might cry.

“I mean, that wasn’t like a snuff film, right?”

“Those aren’t real.”

He can’t help but smile remembering Joseph’s rant on the subject, “what I meant was: those guys are just actors getting paid to do a scene like that, not some actually getting attacked.”

“Of course not.” Joseph looks up, horrified, “I’d never watch something like that. The, the whole reason I like this company is that they do horror porn under very ethical working conditions.”

“Then why are you acting like I caught you pissing in my coffee?”

“Does the fact I get off to this honestly not bother you?”

“I mean, people get off to all sorts of shit. Like, um, like” he twists the bracelet on his wrist, “like their boyfriend tying them up and threatening to make them scream.”

Josephs eyes widen. Then he shakes his head, “No. No we can’t do that.”

“Why not?”

“Because I...I never, ever want to hurt you that way. Even in a scene. I can’t stand the thought of you being scared of me, of turning these impulses loose on you. It sounds fun until I picture it and then it makes me ill. No, this stays firmly in my head.”

“Okay.” He keeps his reply soft to hide his disappointment. Joseph is still on the couch, refusing to look his way, and so he circles it and kneels at his feet to better rub his arms. He thinks about the images on screen. About Joseph, blissed out then suddenly shame-faced. Joseph, two nights ago, calculated and loving as he worked Barclay over.

No, maybe the kind of scene he’s been picturing isn’t for them. But he can think of one that is.

“What if, uh, instead of giving into the desires that freak you out we kind of rechannel them. Like, instead of strapping me down to torment me, you’re doing it to show off?”

Blue eyes meet his for the first time all night, “Say more.”

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

“Ready?” Barclay bats his eyelashes at Joseph as his boyfriend finishes double checking the tightness of the rope he’s using to tie Barclays arms above his head.

“Ready.” Joseph stands, rolling his shoulders and closing his eyes as he takes deep breaths. Then he frowns, “can you start us off?”

“Sure thing, babe.” He nestles his head on the pillow, “okay, you found me tied up like this. What’s your first thought?”

Joseph opens his eyes, gaze sharp, “That I’m so lucky someone left a handsome specimen like you where I could find him.”

Barclays cock twitches at being referred to that way, “You’re not gonna let me go?”

“Not just yet. You’re so perfect, will you let me make a case for staying here with me?”

“Please” Barclay whimpers as Joseph straddles him, knife in hand.

“I’m very precise, for starters.” He cuts slowly up Barclays boxers until he can pull the strip of fabric off. Repeats the process, lips a firm line of concentration, with his undershirt, “see? There’s not even a scratch. I have to be careful not to damage my perfect specimen.”

Barclay groans, rolling his hips. Joseph smiles, shifting so his cock rubs against Joseph’s clothed crotch.

“Fuck, Joseph-”

“Shhhh” a gloved thumb brushes his lips, “When you’re like this, my name is Sir.”

“Ohfuck.” Barclay rubs his cheek pleadingly in his palm, “Sir, please, please, untie me so I can touch you.”

“Not yet.” Joseph pats his cheek, scoots backwards on the bed, “besides, you’ll have lots of time to touch me once I take you home and make you my sweet live-in plaything.”

“Holyfuckingshit.” Barclay fights off a dozen tantalizing images of what that could entail to focus on their plan, “Sir? What, uh, what was the guy who tied me up going to do to me?”

His boyfriend settles between his legs, “He was going to take you apart.” He lifts Barclay’s right leg, “starting with these, so if you got free you couldn’t run. This tendon first” he kisses the back of his knee, making Barclay giggle. He pauses, then decides on holding both legs up at once so he can repeat the kiss on the other side. His lips move slowly down to his ankles, right side and then the left, before a final one lands on his arch, “he was going to cut here too. But not me” the kisses continue, “I’m going to rub them every evening so you’re never sore.”

“Fuuuuck” He sighs as Joseph straddles him once more, leaning forward so he can kiss and fondle his arms.

“He was going to slice alllll along here” Joseph’s breathing is picking up the longer he lavishes Barclay with kisses, “then he was going to take your fingers one by one” Joseph kisses each knuckle in turn, his free hand petting Barclay’s face and hair, “then he was going to commit a cardinal sin by mangling these” Joseph toys with his pecks, sucks happily on his left nipple for a moment, “what a crime that would have been.”

“Sir” it’s a whine as Joseph nips and kisses his way down to his navel.

He raises slightly, mouth just above Barclays cock, “and because he had no imagination, he was going to cut this wonderful appendage off. Which is not the treatment it deserves.”

“What treatment does it deserve SirrrrrOHfuck, fuckyes” Barclay pants as Joseph licks stripe after stripe up his cock. As Joseph licks and sucks him to a hard-on, he feels the plug slip from his ass.

“I don’t know what his plans were for that” Joseph sits up, undoing his pants and pulling out his cock, “but I know what mine are.” He pushes Barclays legs wide, works his cock in with slow, steady thrusts while Barclay tries to remember how words work.

“Shit, yes, god your ass is amazing, what kind of person sees it and thinks its for anything but fucking?”

“Nngh” Barclay clings to the ropes as Joseph’s thrusts quicken.

“Lord, I thought you were a perfect specimen before but I was wrong, you look even better taking my cock.”

“Fuck, fuck that’s hot.”

Joseph grip his thighs tight enough to hurt, “well, big guy, will you stay with me?” His eyes glitter, his hair is coming loose and falling across his forehead.

“YesAH, yes, ohfucksirright there” He didn’t notice Joseph changing the angle of thrusts until his cock found his prostate, “I’ll be so good Sir, wanna be a good boy for you.”

“Oh good.” Joseph’s smile goes wolfish for an instant, “because I would have had to do some very mean things to persuade you if you refused.”

Barclay cums at that, staining Joseph’s shirt with white. His hands knock against the headboard as Joseph fucks him hard enough to make him sob with oversensitive pleasure.

“You’re going to be such a nice plaything for Sir, aren’t you?”

“Yes.”

“Good boyOH, ohshit, shit.” Joseph pulls out halfway through cumming, spattering it on Barclays thighs and balls. Carefully, he lowers his legs. Then his boyfriend collapses into his arms, panting and giddy.

“That, that was so fun. I’d say who knew but every time we fuck you show me just how fucking fun all this can be.”

“Aw, babe.” He goes to hug him and rediscovers the ropes.

“Ohshit, here” Joseph sets to work undoing his knots, “are your wrists okay? Not too sore? How about your shoulders?”

“They all feel fucking great, baby. I feel great. How could I not? I got you looking after me.”

Joseph smiles, “and out for you.”

“That too. Now c’mere, special agent, your next assignment is cuddling your boyfriend.”

#sternclay #agent stern/ barclay #meet ugy #taz amnesty

[idk-mlb-is-reals-cute44]

Mirror

(AO3 Link)

Mirror. A reflective surface, often framed and decorated, in which your own appearance may be seen.

The first time Kagami snuck out was in the middle of July. She was supposed to be studying next year’s coursework, and she had gotten as far as cracking open the brand-new pre-calc textbook before she was suddenly standing, full of energy and not sure what to do with it. She fiddled with the choker Ladybug had finally entrusted her with that winter, and before she even made the decision to, she found herself on the roof, wrapped in an armor of spandex and magic. That first night was full of a dread that made her movements sloppy, her jumps often stumbled and her heart over-fast. Her mother had trusted her to study, to stay in her room and do as she was told. Slipping back through her bedroom window to find her treachery undiscovered filled her with a heady rush. A secret. She had a secret.

From then it became a habit. About once a week, often more, when she was supposed to be studying, she climbed out her window and took to the rooftops. She hadn’t realized how little of Paris she had seen until then. She visited kitschy sandwich shops and outdoor farmer’s markets. One particularly tepid August day, the week before school started, she stumbled upon a dance battle outside a small hip hop studio (she didn’t win, not by a long shot, but something about the feeling of being a part of a crowd, of a moment, thrilled her). After years of magical ladybugs and rampaging akumas and mayor’s daughters becoming superheroes, it was practically mundane to have a girl dressed in a dragon-y onesie visit your grocery store. She’d been complimented on her “cosplay” at least three times. She didn’t tell the other superheroes. She didn’t quite know why. It wasn’t against the rules or anything. Rena Rouge regularly picked up pizza before team hangouts, and Chat Noir had been spotted frequenting a flower shop once or twice. It was nice, though. To have something that was just hers. That wasn’t for anybody else. That she did just because she wanted to.

The first time she got a B on a homework assignment was an equal-parts mixture of confusingly exhilarating and nerve wracking. At first she was sure she would burn it. Shred it or rip it up and hide it in a dumpster where no one could find it. But instead she smoothed it out from where her tight grip had crumpled the paper, and slipped it in her backpack. She taped it to the back of her locker, and every now and then she would look at it and smile. She didn’t have any friends at school to ask her why. Even if she had, she wasn’t sure what she would say. Something about the curved letter, splashed in bright red across the top right corner of her history paper, made her feel like she was tethered. One large, egregious stomp of a footprint where before she had tiptoed, barely indenting the sand.

She was friends with the girl who butchered fish at the deli. Kagami wasn’t sure it was a deli, to be clear. It sold sandwich meats and cheese, but also fresh fish and honey cakes when the owner’s elderly mother made a batch, and a collection of awful romance novels on a shelf in the back that the owner collected and nobody bought. But the sign out front said “Alberts’ Deli,” so, Kagami was friends with the girl who butchered fish at the deli. Or, more specifically, Ryuko was. But Ryuko was more Kagami than Kagami was Kagami, most days. The girl was blonde and overwhelmingly foul mooded. She was rarely spotted without pink bubblegum scrunched between her teeth, and she was pessimistic in a way that made Kagami feel positively bubbly in comparison. When Kagami ordered fish, the girl went out of her way to find interesting newspapers to wrap it in, a sort of inside joke between the two of them. Kagami had never properly had an inside joke with someone before. Kagami didn’t know what to do with the fish that she bought. The money wasn’t a problem, she had a weekly allowance and nowhere to spend it barring the few times a month she and Adrien got together, but she hated wasting the fish, and it wasn’t like she could just leave it in her refrigerator. Her mom still didn’t know she’d been sneaking out, and mystery fish wasn’t easy to brush off. So far she’d been leaving it on Marinette’s balcony, because she seemed like the type of person who knew what to do with spare fish. But this weekend her mother was out of town until Sunday afternoon, and Kagami had an idea. Kagami didn’t know how to cook. Maybe she should have spent more time contemplating that, but she pulled up a recipe and googled how to use the stove. She burned herself three times, twice on her pinkie finger and once across her palm, but she ended up with an arguably passable cooked fish. It was a little burnt and a little under seasoned, but she ate the whole thing, and hand washed her plates and the pan, returning them exactly where they had been. It felt like a victory.

“I’m gay,” she said to an old man as she helped him cross the street. He looked a little confused, due to her being a complete stranger, but shrugged and said, “Whatever floats your boat, Missy.” “I’m gay,” she said to the girl who worked at the deli. “Am I supposed to act surprised?” Adelaide returned in a bored voice, scrounging up a copy of the funnies that she’d saved at the bottom of the newspaper pile in the case that Kagami stopped by. Kagami smiled. “I’m gay,” Kagami tells Ladybug, on accident when the two of them are partnered up on patrol. She hadn’t meant to. She’d wanted to keep her life and Her Life separate. But it was out there now. “Oh,” Ladybug said, looking a little shocked. “Oh, okay.” “Is that okay?” Kagami asked, hesitating before her next jump and fumbling the landing. “Yes,” Ladybug said, and Kagami knew that she would say yes, she did know it, but something in her breathed a sigh of relief anyway, “Yes of course it’s okay.”

Kagami joined a hip hop class. Not Ryuko-Kagami. Kagami-Kagami. Kagami, face bare of any mask and hands exposed to the open air, asked her mother if she could sign up for a dance class at the studio where the dance battle had been. She didn’t tell her mother about the dance battle. Her mother had been confused, at first. But she’d agreed. Reluctantly, but she’d agreed. Kagami’s first class went poorly. It was November, so everyone else was leagues ahead of her, and she kept messing up the moves. Her arms felt jerky and awkward and her feet were never quite in the right place it seemed. She didn’t know if she’d ever been that happy in her life.

The B on her homework didn’t become a common recurrence. She kept the history paper taped to her locked, and it was joined by one pre-calc assignment and a lab write up, but overall she kept her grades up. She knew her place in the hip-hop class was more or less dependent on her school and fencing performance remaining unchanged. She’d made one friend though. “What’s that about?” George asked the first time they walked together to their lockers, hers and then his, in order of closeness to their final class, “You do know that you get the top grades in, like, the whole year, right? You don’t have to torture yourself with the few average grades you get. Anyone would be jealous to just have 3 Bs.” “No,” she said, “It’s not about that.” He seemed to want to ask what it was about, then, but she shrugged. They walked in silence to his locker, and she leaned against the wall as he stuffed back-breaking textbooks into his backpack. “My name means mirror,” she said finally, and he looked up, curious, “Sometimes it’s nice to… remind myself I’m not just the things people want to see in me. I guess.” “That’s… poetic,” George said, but not like he was mocking her. Kagami felt half her mouth lift in an awkward smile. “Thanks.”

She ends up not being very well suited to hip hop. Which isn’t to say that she quitted, just that she discovered her “worst in the class” phase wasn’t much of a phase at all. The gap became smaller, though. Penelope, a girl not much younger than Kagami, asked Kagami to help her with the footwork she forgot. The teacher corrected her less and less. She stopped feeling like a fish out of water and more like an average fish in a school of particularly exceptional fish… or something. They had a dance battle again. The studio puts them on once every three months, and participation isn’t mandatory but there’s no shortage of friendly peer-pressure. Kagami finds out that it’s scarier to dance in front of a crowd when you know them and they know you. When you’re not just a stranger in a mask. She didn’t anticipate how much sweeter the failure feels when, upon hopping off the makeshift outdoor stage, you’re surrounded by friends (and they are her friends, she has so many more friends than she could have ever imagined) whom holler and yell about how “AMAZING you were, Kagami, oh my god you killed it!” Penelope shyly asked if Kagami could show her how to do the jump Kagami had made up. It was a weird jump, kind of stumble-y and very awkward. Kagami shows her anyway. (She was still the worst in the class. She really didn’t mind.)

“You seem different,” Adrien said off-handedly one evening. The two of them were eating ice cream in the park, watching the newly sprung-up grass sway in the breeze. There was still some snow on the ground, leftover from the last big storm of winter. “I know,” Kagami said, “I feel different.” “You seem happier,” he added, getting chocolate all over his face. She smiled, and handed him a napkin, and stared up at the sky. “I spent so much time trying to be what other people wanted me to be,” she said, taking a contemplative lick of her strawberry ice cream, “And then I decided to figure out who I was when I wasn’t.” Adrien was quiet for a moment. “I’m not sure who I am all the time,” he confessed. Kagami giggled. “Me neither.”

#Kagami Tsurugi #kagami tsurugi fic #miraculous ladybug #miraculous ladybug fic #kagami centric #character study #kagami tsurugi character study

[fucker-anon]

Puppeteer Headcanons

K so this mans has been living in my head rent free since I first laid eyes on them (like 2013) so here are my headcanons about their backstories, personalities, and more. Some are inspired by the original stories and lore, some are inspired by other bloggers, some are me self-projecting. Warning there are mentions of dark themes so keep caution. Also i am not a writer, (im sorry) @creepy-bi-day enjoy!!

Puppeteer~

Backstory: 

Puppeteer was born as Jonathon Blake on July 23, 1974

Mother was Hispanic, dad was American. He grew up speaking Spanish and English. He also never really got along with both sides of the family cause he’s mixed (they didn’t like that). They kinda preferred his siblings.

had 4 younger siblings (3 girls, 1 boy). He was 4 years older than the second child.

ever since he could walk he was obsessed with musical theater. For a while his family was able to Johnny to theater camp. Stopped after the 3rd child was born due to financial reasons

parents were working full time to take care of their family. meant Johnny was basically acting like a 3rd parent. good news was he was able to take care of all 4 of them and meet their basic need of being fed, staying clean etc. bad news it meant that he was taking care of them 24/7 and was constantly tired and not taking care of himself. Started to develop symptoms of depression, but couldn’t get help due to the stigmas around mental health + he’s a guy.

got worse in highschool when his work load increased and he wanted to do more in drama and music but couldn’t cause he had to take care of his siblings. He also didn’t make many close friends except for one girl in his drama class Erma. 

Erma was his best friend and they started dating in their second year of highschool. She helped him as much as she could with his mental health, their studies, and even helped babysit some days. They brought out the best in each other. 

Erma loved dance and wanted to become a ballerina, but her parents tried to keep her focus on studies. They did allow her to take theater which she also loved. Her parents were very strict and controlling so she had to hid her relationship.

It wasn’t until the second child turned 13 (johnny was 17), when she started to help out more with the other three siblings (12f, 9f, 7m). Thanks to her help and now they were in a better financial position, johnny was able to join plays and bands which had afterschool practices.

He was really good. He discovered he was born with perfect pitch and was able to get the lead in a play in his final year. This was also when he was able to score a scholarship so some of his uni fees would be paid for.

he decided to major in theater and wanted to go on Broadway or at least become a drama teacher

however when apply for uni, Erma’s parents discovered their relationship and they offered Erma a choice, break up with johnny or else they wouldn’t pay for Erma’s schooling. They hated johnny mostly due to racism and the fact that he wasnt going into a “stable career”. Erma choose to break up with Johnny but didn’t want to tell him these reasons cause she knew that it would upset him. So instead she told him that she’s fallen out of love and wanted to break up.

Johnny agreed mostly to make her happy, but this started his spiral downwards.

Johnny didn’t have any friends other than Erma, he also went to uni in a different city so he didn’t have his family there. His depression got really bad, and he ended up isolating himself and failing first term. He decided to kill himself via hanging. Problem is he wasn't heavy enough to kill himself right away, so he was suffering for hours. 

He spent his last few hours allowing himself to finally “be selfish” and allowed himself to be angry at his family, Erma, and his overall life.

due to this anger, he was able to come back as a ghost, wanting others to feel the same pain as him.

when he came back he was able to change his body into his idea of a perfect vessel, some improvement were making himself taller, better hair, clear face, smooth voice, bigger dick.  and now feeds off of negative energy

Personality:

cold-hearted, cunning, manipulative, a smooth talking, somewhat charming. this is the very carefully crafted version of Puppeteer, He’s the guy who could talk you into doing anything, mostly stuff like jumping off a bridge

however once you get close to him, you see more of Johnathon than puppet. He is very protective of his close friends, will fuss over them and scold them if they aren’t taking care of themselves

good luck getting there tho. After Erma he really had a hard time opening up to ppl due to his fear that they will all leave him at one point. 

Powers:

he feeds off of negative energies, the more trauma the better (finally imma a snack), so he usually influences his victims into a deep depressed state where they off themselves. However once he started hanging out with the creeps (mansion au), he really didn’t need to do that since everyone is a lil fucked up. He just feeds off a little bit of everyone, so that no one is really affected. At this point, he probably has enough energy to outlive the fucking queen

He’s a ghost so he can levitate at most like 10 m above the ground, and if he focuses, he can go through walls and become invisible. 

he has golden strings due to the ectoplasm inside of him (make his eyes and mouth glow to). This strings are like limbs, They are tough to break but if you do its gonna hurt him a lot. They can extend up to 60 ft, and are about 1 cm thick. 

Fun Facts (cause idk how to categorize these)

lots of trauma, need therapy. he feels a lot of shame for what happened and only opens up to his very close friends. again born in 70′s, theres the toxic masculinity and some internalized homophobia. 

still a theater kid!! love musicals and can still sing and play guitar. His vocal cords are a lil more sensitive cause the whole hanging thing, but as long as he warms up, can has the range baby. also has Macbeth memorized

can still cook. while he doesn’t like his past and doesn’t need to eat. He wrote down all of the recipes he knew and will sometimes make them again

dick is 6.5 inchs soft 7.5 hard, i know y’all wanted to know. if also like 6′2 tall. tall big boi

i hc him as pansexual. yea he rather died again than admit that he loves someone, but he won’t care about gender. he still is cis tho.

he does fuck. not often but occasionally. slightly lower sex drive than average 

grunge king. he grew up in poverty and he great at diy. very leans more punk grunge but can be soft grunge depending on his mood. love beanies and his hair is a little longer than chin length with lots of layers. He is tempted to shave off the sides of his head tho. also has grunge and punk music on his playlists.

bad with tech. like the opposite of ben. gets called an old man since he couldn’t figure out how the tv remote works.

he doesn’t grow facial hair, doesn’t like the look.

acts like he’s too proper to cuss, but he does.... a lot

experienced some racism while growing up so he does say ACAB

probably has some piercings or tattoos or both 

still is depressed, has some tough days, but doctor ej gets him pills to help and he has a good support system

shit this was a lot so Helen is next with another post. ill get into their friendship and relationships with other in a whole new post if yall like it. someone tell me if this gives joy cause i could write an essay on this man

#puppeteer #creepypasta puppeteer #idk how to tag this man #jonathon blake #creepypasta

[perseusjackson-jasongrace]

Crimson Shadows 2

Jercy Vampire AU: Percy

masterlist; information post for fic

I was debating whether i should change traditional things like greetings but then i realised this is my fic and im writing it for purely self indulgent purposes so like i could if i wanted. Thanks for joining in on my hedonism! Please enjoy.

Perseus steps onto the creaky wooden floor of his ostentatious 16th century mansion and mentally reminds himself for the two-hundredth time that he needs to get someone in to fix it. The worst thing about being immortal, he has come to learn, is that he procrastinates everything ten times harder. At least his teenage self would be impressed with his tactics, even if his mother was rolling in her grave.

The house is unusually quiet for an Orion morning and he strains his already sonic hearing to catch the sounds of silent footfalls and bustling bodies. But the wind rushes through the space and there are no other noises. A flutter gives in his chest as he steps into the kitchen to find breakfast waiting for him and a note folded neatly next to it.

Hey Doc,

Twins have gone to Bharatanatyam class and Hoku went to the beach. I’m just picking stuff up at the grocer, be home in a jiff.

- Keeya

He releases a breath and sits down at the table with a smile. The delicious smell of eggs and blood hit him as he takes off the cover to reveal a plate of eggs benedict, hash-browns and a small glass of ichor. He shoots down the blood, content to let it work through him as he gobbles down the heavenly breakfast. He knows Keeya cooked because she was always experimenting with food, always in here creating dishes and making them beg to eat whatever is giving off that sublime smell. Just as he cuts into a hash brown he hears the door shut and hurried footsteps rushing towards him.

“To the Sun,” Keeya flurries into the kitchen, face blocked by brown paper bags stuffed to the brim with what he’s sure to be her latest concoction.

“Amongst the Stars,” His lips twitch in amusement, “Early morning?”

“I couldn’t sleep so i-” Her voice muffles as she busies herself packing items in the pantry, “-thought I’d start on breakfast but while i was looking for an eggs benny recipe i came across this golden cake and-” Her head pops out of the pantry, black eyes flashing with excitement, “Doc when i tell you i almost died right there, it sounded so good. Anyway of course i had to leave immediately to get all the things we didn’t have.” She finally collapses onto a stool across from him and takes a breath.

He hides a laugh and waits for the rest of the story, because with Keeya there is always more. 

“Anyway i get to the shop-” She starts. He covers his inescapable laugh with a cough. “And they don’t have desiccated coconut. Can you believe that? I mean it’s the main ingredient in the damn cake. So I was panicking a little because it’s the closest shop open at that time, the others I'd have to take a train for which is so inconvenient?” She gives him an incredulous look. He nods seriously; inside he is fighting off giggles. “But they found some in the back, thank the stars, and then I just grabbed a few things because it’s ‘make your own pizza’ night and I think some people from the Araw house are joining us.”

“Sounds fun, is Elouan going to be here?” He pops the last bit of poached egg in his mouth and looks at her expectantly.

She makes a disapproving face, “No, he’s off with his new partner. I don’t trust them at all.”

“Why?” Perseus is on guard immediately, fingers curling, hair sensitive, and gums stinging with the need to unsheathe his fangs. 

“Their vibe is off,” Her nose scrunches up, “Like they’re used to getting into trouble and bailing out.”

“I’ll tell Elly to be careful but maybe go with him next time Kee,” He suggests, a tentative look in his eyes as her own widen.

“All we’ll do is argue, and besides, he hates me hanging out with his friends.”

“Ever asked him why?” He has a feeling about it but he’ll never voice it. No, the two can come to their own conclusions. After all, they had forever to figure it out.

“I don’t care why. He’s a dick and I'm not interested in anything he has to say.”

He shrugs but leaves the conversation, and the kitchen, so Keeya can do her thing. He has some admin to do anyway; a dreary task but one that must be done all the same. Besides without the twins and Hoku the house is absurdly silent, so he needs something to occupy himself.

His study is actually a little desk situated in their library. It’s his favourite room in the house for the opulent fireplace that stays lit through Baridi and serves as a soot-slide in Caldu, and of course the books which although he doesn't read many of, remind him of his mother. He has been alive for almost three hundred years and there is hardly a day that goes by when he doesn’t think of her. For every part of him that isn’t human, there’s a part of her that makes him so. He stares up at the portrait of her hanging near the doorway, painted by a friend long gone and with a loving smile gets to work.

He sorts, and signs, and stamps, and notes in an endless cycle until finally his finances are in order, his donations are chequed and his letters are sealed. He’s sure Hoku will groan endlessly about receiving yet another letter under their pillow and try to explain that email is much more convenient and faster for everyone. Perseus tilts his head to the ceiling and watches the stars dance as he plays out the conversation in his head.

“Doc, I really appreciate the effort you put into sending us letters but this is not the eighteenth century, just use email.”

“Hoku i like the letters, they’re personal and calming to write.”

“Doc, emails are more convenient and i can take them anywhere.”

“Okay I’ll stop giving you letters. I’ll just give the others.”

“What? No? That’s a terrible idea. I still want my letters.”

And they would have the conversation every month without fail. It is a rather amusing part of the routine and sometimes Perseus purposefully makes Hoku’s letters a little longer, just to bother them. A secret best kept as such, but funny nonetheless.

“DOC!” A voice screams through the house, shattering his ear drums.

The twins.

He steps out of the library, and half jogs to the source of the noise, which he discovers is coming from the entertainment room. 

“To the Sun, you two.”

Serafina looks up first, her brown eyes shining with never-ending energy. The anklets on her feet jingle as she runs towards him and slams her body into his. He holds firm as he catches her and wraps his arms around her shoulders.

“Amongst the Stars,” She mumbles, face buried in his shirt.

“How was Bharatanatyam?”

She gasps, stepping out of his embrace and squealing with delight. “Doc we have to show you what we learnt! Aaru come!” Her dark eyebrows knit together as she focuses on her brother.

“Tusa Aarush.” Perseus smiles, squatting down so he’s level with the boy. A little hand, the colour of cherry wood, reaches up to give him a high-five. A standard greeting for the quiet brother; a complete opposite to his outgoing sister.

“Aaru are you ready?” Serafina comes to stand beside them, after setting up the sound system.

He nods and moves so they’re in the middle of the room. Quickly they do the opening prayer before Serafina bounces to the sound bar and presses play. The sweet, sturdy music fills the room and then they're going through a whole routine. Stamping their feet in a rhythm that matches the beat perfectly. Aarush pinches his fingers and fans them out. A closed flower opening, he recognises. They do a series of moves all impressive and beautiful, before the music fades and they pose, breathless with exertion and excitement. 

He claps enthusiastically and opens his arms for hugs. “You did wonderfully!” Serafina slams into him. Aarush gives him another high-five. “When is the performance?”

“Not for a long time Doc.” The little girl says, as if he should know this. She heads off to fiddle with the speakers. 

“In two months,” Aaru answers. His voice is clear and even. He is quiet but not soft. “In Pluto.”

“Ah, I'll make sure I have it down in the calendar.” The little boy's face lights up like a stadium and Perseus’ heart clenches with love. The twins had only been living with him for half a century but within the first year they had him completely wrapped around his fingers. Their claimed age is ten but their true age is one hundred and two. He found them shivering behind a dumpster in Orman, their skin stretched across their bones and that rabid look of underfed vampire in their eyes. He had taken them in and given them blood and a bed for the night, which turned into a week, and then a month. Before he knew it he was bringing them to this house in Roshani where they had immediately fallen in love with the city and made it their home.

“Fina, i’m going to shower.” Aarush states and without further flurry he leaves.

“Is everything okay with classes? All of them, not just Bharatanatyam.” Perseus asks the talkative twin.

“Yes,” She nods, unclipping her anklets. Her voice lowers, serious bleeding in. It is hard to forget their age, true or claimed, when this happens. Because suddenly their bubbly little girl who flits around the house and talks your ear off and throws herself into everything with the vivacity of a ten year old, disappears. In her place is the century old girl who has experienced more of life’s pleasures and hardships than most of the world can only begin to imagine.

“We’re covered for everything. And Aaru starts teaching a new linguistics course on Monday so he’ll have some cash to fling around. Although,” She rolls her eyes, “We all know he’ll just put it in his account and let it sit like a fat cat.”

He laughs, flicking her nose at her distaste for her brother’s complete lack of spending. “He likes to invest in stocks and give it away. You know he doesn’t hoard.”

“I know i know,” She grumbles, scrunching her nose, “I just wish he’d spend some on himself.”

“I think he thinks you spoil him enough.”

“I don’t spoil him nearly enough. Most times I try to buy him something and he just shuts it down. Like last Draco i tried to buy him that new puzzle he was talking about and he just slammed my laptop shut.”

She looks so put out he can't help but giggle, and when she scowls at him for it he pulls her in for a hug and kisses her head. “He likes to do things with you. Maybe try getting things you guys can do together.” She brightens at that, and he can see the gears turning in her sharp mind. “Alternatively, save up all the buying for special occasions like Birthdays or Turning or Koro day.” She hums in acknowledgement but her thoughts are still going a mile a minute so he steps out and lets her work it through.

The house is alive again: Keeya is still in the kitchen, and by the sounds of it Hoku too, begging for something. Elouan still isn’t in and he cannot stop the trinkle of worry that falls between his ribs. Trying to keep it out of his mind he walks towards the noise and is greeted by the site of countertops covered in dishes filled with all sorts of delights. The smell is enough to put him in a coma. And Hoku sits on the counter, pale blue eyes puppy-wide with pleading. He glances to their wrist and sees the sunshine yellow band. She/her today then. It gets exhausting, she had told them, to continuously have to announce yourself to the world, especially when you didn’t know how the world would react. 

“Hoku,” Keeya sighs, “I am not giving you the poli until you go and change. You smell like seaweed.” The coconut-stuffed pastry pockets sit on the counter, still piping hot from the oil they had just been fried in. 

“Awww come on Kee, i just need one. I’ll pass out in the shower if i don’t get it and then it’ll be all your fault.”

Keeya’s eyes roll so far back he’s worried she’ll get them stuck behind her sockets. But they roll forward and give Hoku a very pointed glare.

“Get your ass out of my kitchen and go and shower, you irritation!” She scolds; rendered a little ineffective by the flour smeared across her cheek which is a startling contrast to her brown-scapolite skin.

“You are the absolute worst.” Hoku sulks as she slides off the stool and trudges to the entrance. "Tusa Doc.” The sigh is heavy and he struggles to keep in the laughter threatening to spill past his lips. It is never a dull moment in the Aarde House. Perseus collapses onto the stool Hoku had just vacated and lets loose the smile he had been trying to hide. Keeya returns it with one of her own and then launches into a conversation about her latest creations.

Hours later they had moved from food talk, which made him unfathomably hungry, to her teaching, to his own escapades and ideas. She laughed as he recounted the night out he had some weeks ago and the beautiful blue-haired person he had taken a bodyshot on. But soon the sun is sinking to the city floor and the people in the house emerge from their various rooms to congregate in the kitchen, which serves as the house hangout spot. Keeya had packed most of the food away, save for a loaf of fresh bread and the poli Hoku had been begging for. She puts the kettle on and starts up the coffee machine, chattering away as she did. 

Aarush shuffles into the room and immediately takes up a spot next to Perseus. Serafina and Hoku walk in next talking about knee pains and sore feet.

“Did you guys bother to put ice packs or kinaesthetic tape on?” Keeya raises an eyebrow. They both stick their tongues out at her, and move to sit on the opposite side of the table.

“Hoku,” Aaru settles his brown eyes on her, “Will you teach me how to do the splits? My Bharatanatyam teacher says i need to learn to be more flexible.”

Hoku is already nodding enthusiastically, “Of course A, i can absolutely teach you. But you should know flexibility doesn’t come from doing the splits it comes from muscle control and ligament manipulation.”

“I read up about it but i don't feel confident enough to try on my own.”

A gleam enters Hoku’s blue eyes, “You should come with me to a ballet class. Elouan is doing piano for us next week in preparation for our concert coming up. We’ll be able to get the studio to ourselves for a little while.”

“Sure,” Aru shrugs, “Sounds fun.”

“Why didn’t you ask me for help?” Serafina tugs her twin's sleeve, looking at him with hurt in her eyes.

“I didn’t want to bother you, and besides Hoku teaches ballet I figured she’d be the best bet for me.”

Serafina looks like she’s going to say something, argue maybe, but then the last of their little household walks in and conversation drifts.

“Past the Moon, Elouan,” Perseus smiles at the oldest of the group, save for him.

A floppy smile transforms a pasty face. As he hobbles towards them, leaning heavily on his walking stick, he mumbles a round of greetings.

“How are you?” Keeya asks once he’s settled into a chair next to her.

“I could do with some food and maybe some blood but otherwise just peachy.” His moonlight white curls fall into his face and he pushes them back absentmindedly.

“Can we finally have the poli now?” Hoku glares at their baker, rebellion already flashing in her blue eyes.

“Dig in you little heathen,” Keeya shoves the plate towards her and they all descend. 

Tea and coffee are passed around as well as small glasses of blood for any of them that need it. Perseus and the twins refrain, having had their fill at some point during the day but they happily dig into the coconut pastry and drink copious amounts of coffee.

“So,” Elouan says around a mouthful of poli, “Who’s coming with me to the Red Queen tomorrow?”

“Me!” Hoku shouts immediately. Ever the party animal.

“I’d love to.” Keeya mumbles behind her tea, suddenly shy.

“No thanks.” Aarush pulls a face and goes back to stacking the knives into a precarious tower.

“Fina? Doc?”

“I have to work on stuff for varsity but maybe next time.” Serafina shrugs a shoulder, her brown eyes glazing over as her mind goes back to working a mile a minute.

“I’ll let you know after our dinner tonight. I think some of the Houses want to call a meeting tomorrow to discuss funding and housing in a few cities.”

“You should invite them along,” His white eyebrows knit together in thought, “You guys should invite anyone you want.”

“What’s got you so friendly?” Keeya gives a suspicious look.

“Arrow said they wanted to meet you.”

Her face pulls into something resembling horror, “Uh never mind i think i have stuff to do, maybe next time.”

Elouan pins his honey eyes on her and they look more like the sting of the bee than the gold of the nectar. “What the fuck is your problem?”

“I don’t trust them.” She bites out, setting her mug down with a hard crack.

“You don’t even know them. You’re just being judgmental because they’ve turned a few innocents.”

“It’s not just that Elouan,” Where he is the sky, Keeya is the earth. “They are leading you to the dens and soon you’ll be following in their footsteps.”

Perseus was content to ignore their argument and continue talking to everyone else or eating his way through the feast, but that angered whisper steals his attention. “You’ve been going to the dens?”

“I went twice and i didn't even do anything.” He rolls his eyes.

“It’s not about what you do El,” Keeya’s voice is lethal with fury, and worry. “It’s about what gets done in there.” 

“It’s not safe Elouan. Not only for you but if something happens you put a target on all of our backs. And I will not have you endangering anyone in this house just to look cool for your new partner.” There is no compromise in Perseus’ hard green eyes.

The younger vamp sees this and nods once. “I won’t go to the dens again, Doc.”

“Right now that we have that sorted,” He leaves no room for further say on the topic, “What do you need us to do for dinner before the Araw House gets here, Kee?”

He sees her hide the emotions still burning in her eyes before she claps her hands and puts them to work. And when the members of the Araw house arrive there is no lingering anger suffocating the kitchen. It is bright and loud and messy. It is home.

“Tamo, tamo, everyone!” Musical greetings come from the front of the house and a few seconds later Drew Tanaka and Charles Beckendorf appear in the doorway, as radiant and deadly as always.

Drew looks devastating in a blood red jumpsuit and a gold choker glittering at her neck. Charles has a hand wrapped around her and looks just as sinful in an emerald green suit lined with the most startling azure. His wedding band glints in the soft yellow lights of the kitchen and the two rubies encrusted in it match the band around Drew’s finger.

“Towards the Moon, old man,” Drew sits down with the grace of a dancer who has been perfecting their art for centuries. 

“Who are you calling old man?” Perseus scoffs, “I’m only one month older than you. Besides Charlie is the old man.” 

The subject in question rolls his eyes and shoves both their shoulders, flashing his fangs. His wife just laughs waggling perfectly sculpted eyebrows that suggest more than any of them are willing to interpret.

“Where’s the rest of your chaotic crew?” He motions to the lack of people that usually surrounded them.

“They’re all busy tonight, something about the Safe Haven Sound.” Charlie shrugs, “I’m actually surprised none of you guys went. It was apparently some big event.”

Hoku makes a face that means trouble. Nobody stops her. “It’s mostly for new vamps trying to enter the world. There’s a lot that can go wrong. We tend to stay away.”

Drew turns to her sharply, “Who runs it?”

“The Underboss.” Hoku makes another, more disgusted face.

“Actually,” Keeya says quietly, “It’s the Underboss’ lackey that runs it. The Underboss just owns it.”

“Ugh i hate that slimy little shit more than my ex.”

“Hoku,” Serafina frowns, “Give Luke some credit. At least he was hot.”

Perseus lets a smile loose at that. “Octavian is not ugly, he’s just ghaunt.”

“Doc,” Elouan raises a brow, “He is a ghost.”

“Literally? Aarush frowns, the first thing he’s said since their guests arrived.

“No,” Drew has a contemplative look on her face, “At least i don’t think so.”

“He was part of the Trials.” Charlie adds “That’s what i’ve heard anyway.”

Perseus shudders inwardly as he remembers those dark times. Power-hungry people, people who had no right to participate in their world, had taken it upon themselves to try and create their own supernatural creatures. It was a horrible, terrifying time for humans and duniyarall alike. They had stopped it before it had become the war it intended to be but it was deemed unethical to kill the products of those experiments. So, even today, a century and a half later, there are still Triallers- as they had been so creatively named- roaming, existing, living. For the most part they seem to be peaceful, despite being created for violence, but there are some like the Underboss’ lackey that still give an off-vibe; like feral is just around the corner, one blink away.

“How about we make some pizzas?” Keeya interrupts their conversation before they dive into what will inevitably become a two hour discussion.

“Let’s!” Serafina claps her hands, and Hoku matches her as they hop up and dive towards the fridge where cut and readied ingredients sit.

The evening is chaotic, and bright and full of laughter. They discover that between all their years of life, none of them had ever learnt how to toss pizza dough. Charlie and Keeya make a deal to go to Italy and learn before the decade is out. Drew sees the trip as a chance to get a tan in the beautiful Italian heat, and be fed delicious food straight from her husband’s hands. They make the most of the evening, a rare and peaceful one that recharges the energy in them like bolts of lightning. Perseus hasn’t felt this content in many many moons. 

Soon enough, however, it is just Elouan, Charlie, and Drew sitting on the velvet couches of their lounging area, chatting quietly as they sip various expensive liquor.

He looks at his friends, the gentle glow of the chandelier striking their features. They are beautiful. It is a warm kind of beauty, noticeable in the softness of an expression, or the happiness of a moment. They’re angelic.

“Doc?” Elouan drags him out of his quiet admiration.

“Sorry?”

“Drew and Charlie were just discussing what to do about the hotel on Palace road,” The moonlight caught in his hair ripples as he speaks. “They wanted to find out if you’d be okay with extraction?”

Perseus nods, considering the angles, the necessities

“I don’t feel it’s right to go in armed.” Charlie looks around the room, that composed intensity washing over them. “They’re children, and they’re probably scared.”

The frown between Drew’s perfect brows deepens. “I heard there’s cubs and sangrinos inside.”

“Who’s getting them food? How do they leave? What’s keeping them there?”

A loud ding sounds from someone in the room, and Elouan scrambles to reach his phone. The screen is bright in the dimly lit space and he has to blink hard to adjust his eyes, but then he lets out a curse and rushes towards the door, leaning deeply into stick as the anger worsens his limp.

“Everything okay El?”

“Just Arrow.” He waves it off, “I’ll be back before sun.”

Perseus just nods, watching as the large wooden doors slam shut behind the vampire. When he hears the front door bang, he stands, bowing to his guest in a sign of quick return and steps out of the room in search of members of their household.

“Keeya, Aaru.” He calls from the parlor.

They arrive within seconds, her with a face mask on and her dressing gown half tied, and him with charcoal smudges on his cheeks, and a loose paper in his hand.

‘Doc?” Keeya frowns, sensing the urgency in his aura.

“Elouan just stepped out to help Arrow. Please will you two trace him, make sure he isn’t going to the dens. Don’t make yourself known until you know it’s safe.”

“Armed?” The steel reflecting in Aarush’s dark eyes calm Perseus’ nerves.

“No.” He doesn’t need to cause trouble with the Underboss. “Just make sure Elouan is okay. No violent blood is spilled tonight at your hands.” The volatile expression on the little vampire’s face lessens only a fraction. They both nod at him and disappear into their rooms to ready themselves.

He goes back to the lounge, and continues his discussion with his friends. When he hears the front door close, the quiet click echoing in his mind like a drum, he tells Charlie and Drew what is happening.

Drew, ever the mother, is immediately righteous, demanding she send out some of her pack as scouts. Charlie just holds her hand and looks to him with that expression that so often graces his face: how can we help?

Perseus smiles at Drew and her anger, understanding how she feels. “It is okay Tanaka,” He reassures her. “I’ve got it covered. We should talk about the children.”

She growls, and he can hear the wolf in her throat. “You will let us know if you need help Perseus.”

“Yes,” Even Charlie looks adamant, unstoppable. “We will not be in the dark again. Not when it comes to our own.”

He breathes, and it has taken two centuries to get here. To this moment. “I will ask for help if the time comes.”

“The Underboss is holding them in the hotel, and bribing them with food to join her army.” Just like that they move onto the next problem. The next call for help.

“Well then,” Perseus grins, and it looks like the first signs of destruction, “i guess we’ll be paying the Queen a visit.”

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

Elouan my love what are you doing????? Also: Who do you think the Queen is? *sus eyes*

Tags (if you want to be added to/taken off the tag list all my channels of communication are open):

@msdrpreist; @sparkythunderstorm; @aalikun; @crazy-stupid-bean; @queen-of-demons-and-hell; @pjo-hp-things; @nishlicious-01; @spoopylucy; @larrikin-is-a-himbo; @cyra04​; @leydiangelo​; @elecsinnerz​

#crimson shadows #part 2 #jercy vampire au #jercy #percy jackson #pjjg series #pjjg fanfic #Ciara's ocs #OCs #original characters #drew tanaka #charles beckendorf

[revlyncox]

Stone Soup 2020

This reflection was written for the Washington Ethical Society by Lyn Cox, November 22, 2020.

In the story of Stone Soup, we learn we are more powerful and resilient together than we are alone, and that however small we think our gifts are, they are a beautiful and necessary ingredient in the larger whole. Liz James makes a good point that we often miss opportunities because we haven’t noticed the beauty of our own gifts. It is also true that sometimes we hold back out of a feeling of scarcity, or because we’re not sure what else will be asked of us once we open up. We can tell by how many different versions of this folk tale are in existence that the legend of Stone Soup is rich with meaning. Just like a soup with many ingredients, a tale with many tellers has subtle notes and surprising flavors that we can keep discovering year after year. Today, I’d like to talk about appreciation and abundance.

Felix Adler knew that recognizing human worth is part of the project of moral uplift. He said, "May the humanity that is within every human being be held precious. The vice that underlies all vices is that we are held cheap by others, and far worse, that in our innermost soul we think cheaply of ourselves."

Adler exhorts us to appreciate each other and ourselves.

The Washington Ethical Society Community Relations Pact includes a commitment to “express gratitude readily and accept appreciation graciously.” You already know that appreciating one another and the staff is an act that lifts everyone up, and helps us to bring out the best in each other by reinforcing what is joyful, beautiful, and supportive of our shared mission. In a community as large as WES, especially when we’re mainly a virtual community, it can be hard to figure out how to participate, how to be part of the interactions and responses that help shape this poetry in motion. Positive feedback is an extremely effective way to do that. Appreciation increases energy and resilience. You know that. You voted on it.

What might be less obvious is the part about accepting appreciation graciously. When someone offers positive feedback, or even a simple greeting, take a moment and allow yourself to be known. We can’t always see each other face to face, even when we’re on video it’s tricky to figure out eye contact. An email, a chat message, an emoji, these small acts of kindness are worth noticing and celebrating. And when messages go out to the whole community, it may not feel personal, but the appreciation expressed for your dedication, your care, your simply being -- those sentiments are sincere. Thank you for being part of WES. Yes, I mean you.

Even less obvious is appreciating yourself. Please know that you are a precious creature of worth. Even before we get into what different people bring to this community or the world, you don’t have to earn your designation as a human being. I think it is easier to be part of something larger than ourselves when we start with the knowledge that we reach out from a place of inherent worth.

We’ve just been through Transgender Day of Remembrance, and I am reminded all over again that there are beloveds who don’t know that they are valued, who are shown by state-sanctioned violence and discrimination that they don’t matter, and the results are deadly. We have to do better at protecting our most marginalized beloveds, particularly Trans women of color, and we have to do better at building a world where every person knows that they are beautiful, valued, and loved. Here, we do our best to create a community where every person can be their whole selves, with all of who they are in terms of culture, race, gender, family shape, language, and ability.

People do not have to “contribute” to have inherent worth, and it’s still lovely to notice when people do offer gifts to the community. It is not mutually exclusive to appreciate people for simply being and to appreciate the time, talent, creativity, and resources that someone has intentionally made available to benefit others. In some retellings of Stone Soup, people bring things to the table that are unusual, things their neighbors would not have thought to add to soup. Maybe it’s some tart fruit that ends up adding tantalizing acidity to the soup, or something briny like capers that gives a surprise spark of salt, or some chickpeas to add body to the broth. Sometimes, but not often, Stone Soup retellings take place in a community where different families have different food traditions, and the resulting fusion creates a soup that is an entirely new culinary snapshot of that community in that place and time. Each person’s presence makes a difference.

Appreciation of others requires a certain amount of humility, recognizing that none of us can do and be all of the things that our communities need at the same time. We are each of us always learning, there are things we have not experienced and do not know. Humility does not necessarily mean self-deprecation. We can know that we are people of worth, and that the things we are in the process of learning are valuable talents to offer, while still admiring and appreciating others. You being your whole self, making mistakes so that you can keep learning to draw out your best talents, combines with your neighbor being their whole selves and being allowed to learn and grow in their talents, until we have a learning and growing community where works-in-progress are appreciated and encouraged.

Felix Adler spoke about how ethics is a cooperative endeavor, that we need each other in our uniqueness. He said, "People may be said to resemble not the bricks of which a house is built, but the pieces of a picture puzzle, each differing in shape, but matching the rest, and thus bringing out the picture."

Let’s go on appreciating the unique shapes of our neighbors, and the bit of the puzzle that we each bring, remembering that this puzzle is a living thing with constantly shifting pictures and shapes. Let’s find ways to affirm the shapes and pictures and flavors that are present in each fleeting moment.

Another value that Stone Soup reminds us of is abundance. In a scarcity mentality, we anticipate dividing up the resources that are apparently before us, with the expectation that it will not be enough. In an abundance mentality, we imagine what could be, and open our minds to the possibility that there may be resources we have not yet noticed. In an abundance framework, we use our time and our resources creatively, we find new applications for items and knowledge available among us, we remember what we are here to do.

Something I wonder about the village in the Stone Soup story is about their purpose for being a village. Why are their homes gathered together? Is it for convenience? Safety in numbers? Is it because political forces have pushed them together? Have they gathered to share a resource like fresh water or good soil? Are they in that area as stewards, caring for a sacred place? It is possible that part of the reason the villagers have stopped valuing their gifts and channeling them together is because they don’t know what their shared purpose might be.

The Stone Soup experience suggests that, whatever brought them together originally, the villagers might find new purpose as a result of this shift in perspective. Having a “why” can unleash energy, creativity, and unity. As the soup begins to cook, the villagers find a temporary purpose in curiosity. This is enough of a goal to help them to see their individual carrots and solitary noodles with new eyes. It is enough of a purpose to inspire action.

Abundance, coupled with purpose, helps us to overcome feelings of helplessness or despair. The people of the village didn’t seem happy at the beginning, or very active. Maybe hunger had made it more difficult to think, or maybe fear of scarcity was driving them apart. Coming together for a common goal reminds us that, even when we are individually limited, collectively we have power.

As we retell Stone Soup in these socially distant times, it is natural to long for the days when we can again safely gather in person. In a moment, we’ll see a video montage that includes photos of past celebrations. It’s OK to be happy about the memories and also sad that we can’t celebrate the same way today. But let’s also appreciate the gifts we have now, and those we have discovered as we have been forced to come up with new solutions. WES is more accessible than ever to those who live at a distance, or who have trouble with mobility. There are people who have never before been able to be part of a vibrant, humanistic congregation, and who now are just as much a part of the Platform experience as someone who lives in Shepherd Park. Let’s not lose our renewed purpose of inclusivity as we re-imagine a post-COVID future.

Given the challenges of planning a virtual Stone Soup, I wonder if one of the reasons the villagers fell into scarcity is because the world changed around them, and they weren’t sure how to adapt. They would have needed a new source of motivation when they couldn’t keep doing things the way they had always been done. They would have needed a new way to apply the talents they had developed under an old paradigm. They would have needed a way to encourage each other to try new things for this new world, to learn and grow imperfectly, with appreciation and acceptance.

Our experience of the last eight months tells us that none of that is easy. I know many of us are tired. Some of us have had economic and health challenges that need not have affected us as deeply in a society with a stronger safety net. Learning how to navigate a new world, even a temporary world when we don’t know how long it will last, is exhausting.

Yet here you are, seeking ways to practice abundance. You sent pictures of food and stones. You sent recipes, over 30 last I heard, which will be emailed to members in a PDF recipe book later today. Some of our Middle School families offered their talent for the story. Maybe there are days when you can’t focus on creating something, but you can begin with appreciating someone; that makes room for abundance, too. This community, collectively, has resources and skills and curiosity and creativity that can carry you into the future. There is abundance here, ready to be coupled with purpose.

The Washington Ethical Society is a precious and valuable community, comprised of beloved people. You are worthy just as you are. If you have gifts you want to share, skills you want to develop, a heart for caring, WES and the world will be made better by your generosity of spirit. We make room by appreciating each other as well as honoring our own gifts. We make way for the future with abundance and purpose. May it be so.

[emmeriichs]

How To Make Hot Sauce [SPICY RECIPE]

This guide will show you how to make hot sauces of various sorts, including numerous plans and tips, aging data, protecting hot sauce, and how to begin a hot sauce business.

The fame of hot sauce in the United States has detonated over the most recent twenty years, and it gives no indications of easing back down. What used to be a market commanded by just a couple of hot sauce alternatives with fascinating periphery hot sauces is currently a market loaded up with a brilliant determination of hot sauces for purchasers.

Custom made Buffalo Sauce

Gone are the times of a solitary brand or two filling the hot sauce racks.

As I run a nourishment blog committed to hot food sources just as bean stew peppers, I get messages and remarks constantly identified with making hot sauces. Individuals need to realize how to make them at home. A few people need to figure out how to take their hot sauce making leisure activity and transform it into a business.

I have a great deal of hot sauce plans on the site here, however needed to add to my developing formula assortment some data on the most proficient method to make hot sauces all in all.

I will consistently refresh this page with data as I obtain it, however for the time being, we should discuss making your own hot sauces at home. Everything begins with a basic fixing – bean stew peppers.

Bean stew PEPPERS AND HOT SAUCE

Bean stew peppers are basic to such a significant number of cooking styles the world over. Frequently that stew pepper flavor, zest and in some cases heat gets synonymous with a specific culture. Bean stew peppers ooze appeal and a persona that is at the same time fascinating and down-home, and without them we wouldn't have a portion of our preferred dishes and toppings, one specifically that is near my heart – HOT SAUCE.

I delighted in hot sauce as a child, yet didn't find the wide universe of craftsman hot sauces until a ways into my twenties. As of late wedded, I got keen on cooking and my hunger for zesty nourishment was in full sprout.

I discovered some remarkable hot sauces with the craziest marks, some of them genuine, some of them clever, driving through them by the case, and immediately got keen on making my own.

There is a touch of a craftsmanship to making hot sauces, yet is anything but a troublesome activity. It is for the most part about joining stew peppers with different fixings to accomplish a specific flavor.

HISTORY OF HOT SAUCE

History of Hot Sauce

Bean stew peppers have been gathered for a huge number of years, and it is realized that when Columbus arrived in Haiti and the Dominican Republic in 1492, he found the Arawak individuals utilizing peppers widely. They protected meats with peppers and cooked them into pretty much every feast.

The principal notice for a business hot sauce in the United States is by all accounts in Massachusetts in 1807 by a rancher for a cayenne sauce.

It was Edmund McIlhenny, an investor from New Orleans who promoted hot sauce in the American culture. He matured Tabasco peppers and matured them, stressed and blended them in with vinegar, and started to offer it to nearby markets.

McIlhenny's sauce on the grounds that the well known "Tabasco" hot sauce that we know today.

Motivations TO MAKE HOT SAUCE AT HOME

I began making hot sauces at home since I had become hopelessly enamored with a large number of the craftsman hot sauces out there, yet at times couldn't discover them, and I needed to explore different avenues regarding various flavors.

At the point when you make your own hot sauce at home, you are allowed to consolidate whatever fixings that please you. Likewise, you're allowed to accentuate specific flavors that different sauces don't offer, for example, more superhot stew peppers or a bunch that centers intensely around natural product. Along these lines, making your own hot sauce promises it will be special.

IT'S ALSO INCREDIBLY FUN AND SATISFYING.

I appreciate investing energy in the kitchen, concocting clumps of hot sauce, and it fulfills me when I finish another bunch, newly packaged. I set them into my fridge with a feeling of bliss realizing that I will have another hot sauce for quite a long time to come.

Making hot sauce is additionally an incredible method to protect your bean stew pepper reap. I grow a decent estimated pepper garden every year and keeping in mind that I cook with and protect them from numerous points of view, I still can't seem to discover a bean stew pepper that can't be made into a brilliant hot sauce.

Indeed, even gentle peppers can make delightful sauces.

Perceive How to Preserve Chili Peppers for additional data.

Sorts OF HOT SAUCES

Sorts of Hot Sauce

I've never observed a conclusive rundown of hot sauce types, as I don't might suspect a rundown of such exists, however hot sauces do change from area to locale. There are various procedures to making hot sauces, as well, yet it generally is by all accounts a local variety dependent on territorial fixings, which you'll see reflected in this rundown.

Hot sauce has innumerable varieties, for example, the consistency of the peppers, the planning of the peppers (matured, new, dried, broiled, dish cooked) the real sorts of peppers utilized in the hot sauce, the utilization of different fixings and then some.

The most essential division with hot sauces is whether the peppers are mixed with different fixings. Now and again they are, some of the time they are definitely not.

HERE IS A LIST OF POPULAR HOT SAUCE TYPES:

Louisiana Style – This hot sauce, advanced by hot sauces like "Tabasco" and "Precious stone", is made with new or aged peppers that are crushed with salt and vinegar. I make a great deal of hot sauces thusly, with both new and matured peppers.

Caribbean Style – Usually made with red hot habaneros or Scotch Bonnet peppers, these sauces fluctuate fiercely on account of the various culinary impacts in the region. You'll discover hot sauces with African impact, and others with French impact close by, just as Indian impact and then some. The fixings mirror this.

Hawaiian Style – Hawaiian hot sauce, or "Hawaiian Chili Pepper Water", is normally a blend of nearby stew peppers, garlic, ginger, a touch of vinegar however for the most part water, among other potential fixings. It is sprinkled over everything. It is suggestive of the renowned "Puerto Rican Hot Sauce – Pique".

American Southwest – You'll discover numerous gritty fixings with thick walled New Mexican peppers, either new or dried, with next to no utilization of vinegar. In New Mexico specifically, they present "red" or "green" stew sauce throughout the entire year.

Mexican Style – You'll see a great deal of hybrid from Mexican cooking and the American Southwest and Tex-Mex food. These hot sauces are made with heaps of smoked or potentially dried cases just as nearby fixings. They as a rule center more around enhance and less on heat.

South American – Here you'll locate some fascinating and tasty hot sauces, from Peruvian Aji Amarillo sauce to Chilean Pebre (herb and oil based with peppers) to Molho de Pimento (peppers and vinegar), and many, some more.

Asian Style – Asia is a colossal region with a various societies, so it is hard to portray their hot sauce all things considered, however numerous Asian hot sauces and sauces are thick and utilized as bean stew glues or stew oils.

In Thailand, Sriracha Hot Sauce is the most popular, made essentially with ground chilies, garlic, vinegar, sugar, and salt. In Korea, Gochujang is very well known, produced using bean stew powder and matured glutinous rice.

Sambal – enormously famous in Indonesia, Malaysia and Singapore – is the conventional term for nearby bean stew pepper sauces and hot sauces. They shift in heat level and in fixings utilized.

Center Eastern Style – Chili peppers are well known for sauces in the Middle East with sauces, for example, Harissa (a tasty bean stew glue), Muhamarra (a hot pepper plunge), Shatta (a thick pepper sauce), and Zhug (a herb and oil based sauce with peppers), with kinds of Middle Eastern flavors.

African – the most well known African hot sauce is Peri Sauce, which is produced using African Bird's Eye bean stew peppers. It is thick and tasty with a decent degree of warmth.

Indian Style – India is notable for parcel of flavors, and use them in chutney and general ordinary sauces and plunges.

European Style – I've experienced Hungarian Hot Paprika just as Ajvar (articulated "eye-var" – smoky cooked red peppers with now and then eggplant), which is a Balkan sauce. It is increasingly similar to a spread. There is an exceptionally hot form, call Lutenica (otherwise known as "Ljutenica" – "Luto" signifies "hot"), made with peppers, carrots, garlic, oil, sugar, salt, tomatoes, and now and then eggplant, however understandings exist from district to area.

There is additionally Hungarian "Eros Pista" (Hungry Steven), made basically of minced paprika peppers and salt. Spain cooks with a ton of peppers and a portion of their hot sauces incorporate Samfaina (like a French ratatouille), Sofrito (peppers with tomato, garlic, onions and oil) and Mojos (herb and oil based with peppers, some of the time). Italy has hot sauces, for example, the acclaimed Diavalo sauce, made with fiery bean stew chips or peppers.

Superhot Style – There is a great deal of hybrid between different styles of hot sauces, yet these hot sauces are constantly made with superhot bean stew peppers, those that are 1 Million Scoville Heat Units or more, similar to the phantom pepper, scorpion peppers, 7 pots and the Carolina Reaper, which is the most sizzling bean stew pepper on the planet as of now.

Once more, this isn't a comprehensive rundown, as I could incorporate various kinds of sauces, stew oils and the sky is the limit from there, so for the inquisitive disapproved, I propose following the peppers into different pieces of the world and find what local people are cooking.

You'll in actuality find some intriguing hot sauces made with neighborhood fixings.

Common HOT SAUCE INGREDIENTS

Hot Sauce Ingredients

At its most fundamental structure, hot sauce is regularly a blend of bean stew peppers and a fluid, for example, vinegar, citrus, or even water. You can combine those two and you have yourself a hot sauce. Will it be extraordinary? Perhaps. Would it be able to be better? Obviously.

#food #cooking

[elizabethemerald]

Dreams of Drowning: Chap 6

Please reblog if you like!

AO3

It turns out, much to Jim’s disappointment discovering he has a magical destiny does not immediately absolve him of all his responsibilities. He had not yet figured out a way for the fire that flowed under his skin to pay rent. He also didn’t have a foolproof plan to break Claire out of 49B that wouldn’t end up with all of them in prison. 

So Jim found himself morosely returning to work in the kitchen at the research facility that was keeping the woman he had fallen in love with in prison. He kept the stone that had granted his magic in his pocket however, and the whole time he tried to see if there was some way he could free Claire. 

He determined very quickly, that being a cook didn’t not afford him many opportunities for breakouts or clandestine research. The kitchen was still short handed though they had hired one more cook, and he spent the entirety of each day running around trying to keep up with demand. Plus he had to train the new cook. 

[[MORE]]

At least at night he felt he was making progress on his desire to free Claire. He and Toby drove to the outskirts of town almost every night so he could try and practice with the strange stone. He felt he was getting better and better at controlling the armor and the powerful blasts he had come to call Daylight. 

Jim could now make the armor change to suit his needs, including forming a helmet and a shield. He also could shape Daylight into whatever weapon he wanted. He usually picked a massive sword, feeling it matched the aesthetic of the rest of his armor. 

Despite his growing magic his work continued to feel like a drain. The only thing he took pleasure in was making Claire’s food. He had completely abandoned any pretense of sticking to the recipe, only trying to make something that she would find delicious. He would occasionally feel her joy when she was fed, as he could still feel her power at the edge of his mind. She still hadn’t returned to his dreams since helping him save his mom. He hated to admit how much he missed seeing her, and he hoped she was recovering from the strain. 

Now that he was learning his own magic he realised how much energy it took out of him, leaving him constantly fatigued. What had the amazing magic Claire had done to save his mom cost her? Speaking of his mom, Jim remembered he needed to call her. 

Jim quietly excused himself from the kitchen during one of the rare slow moments and dialed her number. She answered on the second ring. 

“Hey Jim!” His mom said brightly. 

He was overjoyed to hear that she sounded better at least, the night Bular had come after her she had sounded terrible from her broken nose and crushed ribs. 

“Hey mom. How are you feeling?”

“I feel amazing actually. I already feel almost like… that… never happened. I would have sworn I had at least two broken ribs, but the x-rays didn’t show anything. Zelda says I look better every day.”

Despite how series this call was he couldn’t help but laugh. “Zelda always thinks you look better every day.”

“That’s true, but I specifically asked her to be honest with me! And she would never compliment me when she didn’t mean it.” Barbara said very seriously, with just a hint of a chuckle in her voice. Then she started to laugh as well. 

Jim laughed with his mom for a moment. “I’m glad you are healing quickly.” Very glad. Apparently Claire could do some amazing things. He wondered if he could possibly heal with his own magic as well. “But how are you feeling?” 

Barbara hesitated in responding. “I’m scared. I haven’t experienced something like that since your father left and even he was never as bad as that.” Jim’s heart tore as her voice shook. “Zelda is helping a lot and so is Walter. We have a new security system at the house, and Zelda said she would make some calls to make sure that it never happens again.”

At that statement Jim was reminded of Toby’s ascertain that Zelda Lake-Nomura had killed people professionally before. He wondered if that was true. In the middle of that thought the ground started shaking. Another earthquake? His mom continued speaking. 

“Zelda and Walter apparently have some contacts, some people they know who can help make sure that the house is safe. It really means a lot that they are working so hard to make sure I feel safe again.”

Jim braced himself near a door as the room rumbled softly. Barbara was talking like she hadn’t noticed there was an earthquake. 

“I’m glad you have them around you. Hey, are you experiencing an earthquake right now?”

“Uh, no?” Jim could almost hear his mom looking around her house. There was no way an earthquake could be this strong and this localized that she wouldn’t be able to feel it just across town. Unless…

“Hmm, I may need to go. But I love you so much mom and if you ever need me I’ll drop everything to be there.”

“O-OK, Jim. I love you too.”

“I’ll call you tonight, by mom.”

As Jim hung up the phone the floor stilled. Now he felt foolish. He wanted to make sure his mom felt safe in her house after what Bular did to her. He might drop by later and see what security precautions Zelda and Walter were taking. They had some weirdly specific knowledge, he was sure they could turn the house into Fort Knox if they wanted to. 

That thought blared loud in his mind. If they could turn his mom’s house into Fort Knox, could they also break into Fort Knox? Those two had a strange history that went way back. Who knows what else they got up to? Maybe he should give Strickler a call this week. 

Before Jim could think more about that he felt the floor start rumbling again. Now that he was off the phone with his mom and paying attention he could also hear the distant scream that he had heard during the first tremor. He looked around but none of the other researchers or security personnel around him seemed to react to the scream, though they obviously felt the tremor. 

Jim realized that with the scream echoing in his head he couldn’t feel Claire’s warmth. Her power usually flowed around the edges of his mind, but he couldn’t sense her at all. He focused for a second on the fire that burned inside him then reached out with his mind. 

Chains. Screaming. Electricity. Pain.

He doubled over sweat pouring from his forehead. It felt like someone had hit him in the chest with a stun gun. Pain raced through his body, making his muscles seize. Several of the people around him turned to him as he fell to his knees, crying out as more pain flooded his mind. 

Screaming. Shocks. Pain. Fear. Screaming. 

“Claire.” He whispered. 

A researcher, in a white lab coat approached concern on their face. Jim pushed himself to his feet and forced himself forward. He stumbled into the researcher, then passed him. He could hardly focus on his surroundings as he raced to the elevator. 

Claire’s full power filled and dulled his senses. Her screams deafening him. The water that surrounded her filling his vision. Jim was barely able to push the elevator call button. By the time it arrived the tremors had stilled and he was able to stand up right, sweat still pouring off his head. He punched the button for the top floor. 

Jim shoved his hand into his pocket and wrapped it around the stone. The stone he had gotten his powers from. It had lived in his pocket, never leaving his side. As he held it he felt his fire burn hotter through him. 

He straightened his back, even as the tremors started again. The elevator door opened and he jogged out. He hammered on the door to one of the offices, drawing the attention of several other folks in the space. Only a moment later Toby opened the door, looking annoyed. His expression changed to surprise, then joy at seeing his friend, then fear at seeing the state Jim was in. 

Jim pushed his friend into his office and closed the door behind him. Though this was the first time he had actually been inside his best friend’s office it was exactly what he would have guessed. The office was a bit cluttered, with papers, rocks and mineral cases scattered all over. There were some tools that surely had no place in an office leaning against one of the walls. And on every available surface there were pictures of Darci. Jim was surprised to see the number of pictures that were of him, but now wasn’t the time to discuss that. 

“What’s going on Jimbo? You look like you’re going to have a fit or something!” Toby said pulling Jim to his desk. 

“Toby these earthquakes aren’t natural.” It wasn’t a question. The tremor was continuing, Jim bent over, sweating again, as pain charged through him. 

Pain. Fear. Rage. Pain. Screaming. 

“You think it has something do with Claire?” Toby asked. Jim was barely able to manage as another wave of pain flooded him. 

“I need to fall asleep right now. I have to talk to her. I have to try to protect her!” Jim pulled his fist out of his pocket, the stone of Daylight in his hand. 

“Ok, dude. I have a sure fire way for you to fall asleep instantly. Lay down and get comfortable.”

Jim laid down on the office floor as well as he was able to with the pain still coursing through him. Toby fussed for a few seconds, folding up a jacket and putting it under his head before glancing at the door. 

“What’s next Tobes?” Jim said past gritted teeth. 

“I’m sorry Jimbo.”

Jim wanted to ask what Toby was apologizing for when his best friend cocked his arm back and punched him in the face. 

He opened his eyes under water. 

The water was a torrent racing around him, dragging his hair every which way. The chains that were bound to Claire’s wrists were stretched taut, holding her arms out straight from her body. She hung her head, her hair being pulled and swirled by the whirlpool of water. 

Jim reached a hand out towards her and realized he was wearing his armor. The silver armor covered his whole body, it had even generated his helmet as well. On top of that, his whole body was covered in blue flames. The flames didn’t seem bothered at all by the crushing weight of the water around him. 

As he tried to swim towards her through the current, Claire raised her head. Her shining white eyes grew wide as she saw him. She shook her head causing her hair to flow even more wildly. 

“You-shouldn’t-be here.” Claire panted each word out, her arms straining against the chains that held her. “They’ll-hurt-you.”

She collapsed against the chains, letting her head loll down. 

“I can’t just let them hurt you. I have to protect you somehow!”

“There’s-nothing-” Her words were stopped as another scream dragged itself from her lips. Jim’s heart broke at the sound. He could feel the electricity coursing through the water and pain filled his body. His screams joined her’s. 

It took several years of shooting pain that may have only been a few seconds for Jim to realize that the pain he was feeling wasn’t his. It was Claire’s. She was broadcasting her pain into his mind. The electricity was still arching through the water, Claire strained against her chains as her body convulsed, the glow that normally flowed under skin reacting to the charge. However Jim couldn’t feel any of it. 

He held up his hands and saw that the blue fire that surrounded him had increased into an inferno. The fire roared around him, racing over his entire body. His magic was protecting him he realized. 

Jim focused on the fire inside him. The fire that burned in him since touching the Daylight rock. He pushed the fire out just he had breathed out onto the Drained Heartstone. The wild blaze burned brighter and larger moving through the water, extending around his body. Jim forced the fire within him out and pushed his arms out to the sides. 

A wave of blue fire raced through the water away from him. As it passed over and through Claire her screaming stopped. Jim watched as the flood of cerulean flames bounced off the chains, highlighting them in the water. They also bounced off the walls of the tank they were in. Jim had never seen the walls of this place before, everytime Claire’s purple water obscured his vision. The tank she was being held in was barely large enough to hold her, with the chains tight her outstretched hands could almost touch either wall of the tank. 

Claire gasped as blue flames danced around her body. She turned her head this way and that to watch the fires. Then she turned to Jim with a tired smile on her face. Jim swam towards her and put a hand on her face. He was miniscule compared to her, but he wanted to comfort her somehow. 

The chains that held her loosened suddenly. As the slack allowed she pulled her arms into her chest and let herself sink to the bottom of the tank. She held Jim softly in one hand as she sank. 

“Thank you.” Claire whispered. She pulled her legs up to her chest as if she was trying to make herself as small as possible. “I’m happy to see you come into your own magic.”

“Well you gave me this so I should be thanking you.” Jim said rubbing the back of his head while she carried him to the bottom of the tank. She shook her head at his statement. 

“I didn’t give you anything.”

“Wait, the stone then?”

Claire shook her head again. Her dark hair billowed out, creating a halo around her. She tapped him on the chest, his flames leaped from his body to circle her hands and entwine with her fingers. “This power is from you.”

She sighed heavily. Jim felt a hundred questions pressing themselves into his head.

“You should go. You will be tired.” 

Claire freed him and he felt himself drifting away. 

“I will find a way to free you! I promise!” Jim said as he disappeared. 

“Jeez dude! Are you ok?” Jim looked up in confusion at Toby’s face. His friend had obviously been mid panic attack when Jim woke up. “I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I hit you harder than I thought. I didn’t mean it, you just said you needed to be unconscious as quickly as possible. That’s all I could think to do! And then you started shouting in your sleep, like you were in pain.”

“It’s ok Tobes. I’m ok.” Jim sat up and wearily rubbed his face. He winced as his fingers touched the spot where Toby had hit him. “I was able to help her.”

Toby stilled at that. “They were hurting her?”

“Yeah. Electrocuting her. I don’t know why. I didn’t get a chance to ask. But I was able to use my magic to protect her.”

Toby sat down heavily on the floor next to Jim. His mouth was open a little. “That’s amazing dude. Like we might actually have the chance to get her out of here at some point if you can do that.”

Jim nodded. His head felt heavy. He stood and looked at himself in the reflection of one of the picture frames. He was going to have a black eye from Toby’s punch. He thought for a moment then let blue flames race down his arm to his palm. He took the flames and wiped them across his face. 

Toby’s jaw dropped even further as Jim wiped the mark away like it was a stain on a plate in his kitchen. Jim knew without knowing how that he had completely healed the damage. Though even that small amount of magic on top of his exhaustion weighed on him. 

“I think I’m going to call out for the rest of the day. I’m so tired.”

Toby could only nod and let Jim out of his office. Jim sagged against the wall for a moment then pushed off it to walk to the elevator. Every step took effort. 

Just as Jim reached the elevator it opened and two people walked out. He recognized them as the head of research and the head of security. 

The woman who was the head of the research department was a slight woman with curly red hair down her back. She had emerald green eyes and multiple gold necklaces and bangles. Her green dress matched and accented her eyes perfectly. 

The head of security was a giant. Jim remembered Toby saying that Bular was this man’s son and the brute had been massive. Somehow his dad was even larger. He had to duck to get in and out of the elevator and was as broad as two normal people. 

They had been deep in conversation as they stepped out of the elevator and almost ran right into Jim. She looked surprised when she saw him, then her face lit up. 

“Ah! And what brings one of our cooks up here to the top floor?” She asked her voice cheery. 

“Uh, the soup of the day today was clam chowder.” He said. Then continued his lie as smoothly as possible. “Mr. Domzalski is allergic to clams you see. But he said he desperately wanted a soup for lunch, so I told him I would whip something up without clams and bring it up for him.”

She smiled broadly and nudged her companion who had so far only glared at Jim. “If only everyone had such dedication to their work.” 

She took Jim by the elbow and steered him away from the elevator back towards her office. 

“My name is Dr. Le Fay. I usually try and get around to introduce myself to new staff but we’ve been so busy. And what is your name?”

“Uh, James Lake Jr. You can call me Jim though.”

“Ah Jim. The new cook who is breathing such a reinvigorating life into the menu. You can call me Morgan if you want.”

Jim couldn’t help but smile at this woman. She had a way of commanding attention without trying. They entered her office. Here there was more green and gold scattered around in the accents. Jim sat down heavily in one chair while she sat lightly in her own chair. The man stood with his arms crossed behind her. Dr. Morgan noticed Jim glance at him and nudged the massive man. 

“Don’t be rude! Introduce yourself.”

“My name is Gunmar Black. You may call me Mr. Black.”

Jim tried for a half hearted wave, but Mr. Black didn’t move. Dr. Morgan gathered his attention with a delicately cleared throat. 

“I’m always kept informed when we have new staff on hand. I apologize for not coming around to see how you are sooner. Since your arrival I look forward to each day’s lunch. I’m always excited to see what you come up with next.”

“Thank you. I’ve loved cooking since I was a little kid, cooking for my mom. Now it’s something I get to do every day.” Jim decided against mentioning the fact that the kitchen was severely understaffed or that he didn’t have nearly the amount of control over the menu as she seemed to think. 

“How fantastic is that? Well I won’t keep you from it.” Dr. Morgan said, a clear dismissal. 

As Jim dragged his body out of the comfortable chair Mr. Black glared at him. He blanched, the man recognized him. Bular must have told him about what happened at his mom’s place. He hurried out of the office. 

Jim sat down heavily around the corner from her office. He was so bone weary. He just needed a moment before he went back downstairs to clock out. 

A door slamming open almost made him fall out of his seat. Dr. Morgan angrily walked past her cell phone pressed to her ear as she put on a lab coat one handed. 

“What do you mean, you don’t know how it broke? The entity has never been able to damage our equipment like that before! I’m coming down. You had better get my machinery back up and running, we cannot get behind schedule! I will not tolerate delays!”

The elevator finally came and Gunmar followed her into it. Jim’s hands were shaking. He couldn’t tell if it was because of fear or rage. Morgan was responsible for Claire’s torture! She had been right there. 

Jim focused on his breathing as he tried to rein in his anger. He knew he couldn't have done anything, not with Mr. Black there. But she was the one in charge of hurting Claire. 

He waited there in that seat in the corner. He was exhausted and wanted nothing more than to go home and sleep, but he wasn't going to let them hurt Claire any more. Regardless of how tired he was if the tremors started again he would have Toby knock him out again, as many times as necessary to keep her safe. 

Instead of more shaking and phantom screams of pain he watched as Dr. Morgan stormed out of the elevator a few minutes later. She stomped into her office and slammed the door. 

Whatever machinery he had broken when his magic protect Claire was clearly still broken. He dragged himself out of the chair and eventually out of the building with only a cursory excuse for his boss. Claire was going to be safe. At least for today. And he desperately needed to rest. 

#toby domzalski #jim lake junior #claire nuñez #trollhunters #tales of arcadia #dreams of drowning #sorry if the read more doesn't work #as always send me any asks you hage about this story!

[prettywordsyouleft]

Different Kisses with Kyungsoo

Thank you @vnrgaard​ and @nyx-goddess-of-choas​ (requested privately) for requesting Kyungsoo’s kisses! I figured since today is his birthday, it would make complete sense to fulfil this request now – not only do we get some stellar kissing with Soo today, but it means I’ve ticked off another request on my list so it’s a win/win! I feel like I went really in-depth in some points because Kyungsoo is my ultimate bias and I have no chill, but I hope you enjoy the extra content all the same! I didn’t do the conclusion like I usually do as this is already longer than usual!

(I’m sorry I couldn’t help but use this gif even though it’s missing his face >_>)

When Kyungsoo kisses you it’s as if nothing else matters in the world anymore.

First kiss:

Your first kiss with Kyungsoo was a long time coming and yet still blind-sighted you. He was a regular at the boutique movie theatre and café your family ran, appearing at least three times a month to watch old films at the last viewing time of the night. He’d always come to that last viewing, and in the beginning, it used to irk you as hardly anyone would come that late at night and you could close up if no tickets were bought. Soon, you knew his order well, smiling at him happily when you saw him. At first, he wasn’t one to talk after asking for a ticket and his snacks, his eyes darting away whenever you caught his gaze. After a couple of months though, he started asking about your day, shyly making basic conversation with you until it didn’t feel awkward any more. You would laugh with him, he would tell you about some of the things he had been up to or about his dogs. You loved animals and this was where your conversation really deepened, once you had an established common ground, you discovered more about each other as you got his snacks ready each time.

Sometimes you would sneak into the theatre with the guise of quietly cleaning up the aisles behind him, and you would find yourself more entranced by the man who appeared for the late night session and had the most beautiful round eyes that looked out at you warmly from behind thick-rimmed glasses.

“Why don’t you just sit down and watch it with me?” he said one time when you were cleaning, not looking over his shoulder at you, but all too aware of how close you were. You had sat behind him and watched on, but not at the movie. From that moment on, you started coming in to watch with him. You’d sit in the same row and then finally next to him, analysing the movies together and discussing your thoughts when it ended. You highly anticipated Kyungsoo’s appearances and the feeling that would overwhelm you every time his hand would brush against yours in the popcorn he shared with you or if his knee hit yours. You were falling for the dark-haired man, and you didn’t know what to do about it.

The feeling was mutual for Kyungsoo. Even as someone who was an avid movie enthusiast, he had blurred the lines of why he came to this theatre over time. Initially, he liked the feeling of being in the older styled theatre to watch the classics in. The atmosphere was enticing, but your smile was better. He felt juvenile whenever he approached you; wanting to tell you how beautiful you were but not wanting to scare you off either. The growth of your relationship made him more frustrated, you could discuss everything together except the obvious feelings you both held. He wanted to make you his, to tell you that he dreamt of you and how your smile was embedded in his mind. But every time he’d think of how to tell you this, to utter the words he had practised so many times aloud at home as if lines for his own acting, he’d feel as if the words got lodged in this throat and wouldn’t come out. He’d simply stare at your smiling face dumbly until you finally got up out of your chair and gestured that the session was over. Another wasted chance.

After seven months of visiting the theatre, the sessions were no longer enjoyable. It was heightened, the tension thick as each slightest movement caused friction. He couldn’t concentrate on the movie and when you moved your leg it made him groan. You asked if he was okay and he stood up immediately, preparing to leave. You got up as well and grabbed his arm, looking at him with concern. None of the words wanted to work, but his lips knew what needed to happen, finding yours and kissing you with demand. He had hoped for a soft, tender moment for the first kiss, but he was desperate to let the feelings that had been pressing against his ribcage all night long out. It surprised him when you kissed him back with just as much energy, holding onto his shirt to ground you in the moment.

When you both pulled away breathlessly, there were still no words shared, but the smiles you gave each other – mixed with sheer happiness and relief – made you both realise how much the other had wanted this for a long time.

Public kisses:

Kyungsoo is the king of fleeting subtle touches when in public. He’s not going to outwardly show any PDA towards you except holding your hand, but he’s definitely still active in expressing his affection for you. His most common move is brushing his hand against the small of your back unexpectedly as he walks by you, looking discreetly over his shoulder to see your reaction. He likes playing with how much pressure he holds your hand with as well, to let you know he’s thinking about more than just walking at your side pleasantly. These unexpected (even after all this time they still surprise you even though you anticipate it) gestures make your heart beat faster and you smile up at him warmly, Kyungsoo knowing just how much you love when he does this to you. Sometimes you try to give him little messages back and watch as his cheeks flush as he tries to keep his expression nonchalant. You know all too well that he’s dying on the inside as you do and the look he gives you makes you very aware that when at home he’s going to hold you to him for some time so you best forget about any plans you had.

Despite not really showing your relationship off with PDA, you’re not a stay-at-home couple either. You go out when you can, mostly to try new restaurants that Kyungsoo is too excited over or to watch movies at theatres other than your own – of course, you still go there too for special occasions. A lot of your dates occur at night time which seems to suit Kyungsoo, as if the darkened atmosphere brings less attention to him and allows him more chances to touch, smile and gaze at you adoringly.

And if you can’t get out properly, night drives are definitely a thing. With the tinted glass on his car, he has no worries about placing his hand on your thigh or encasing your hand in his, lots of light conversation and sweet gazes or gestures occupying the space as you travel around mindlessly. You have to admit, you love nothing more than watching him drive and snuggling up into the passenger chair with some part of you touching him, sometimes allowing things to grow to an insatiable level, with a strong desire to get back home and make sure your love is heard all around the bedroom.

Private kisses:

Being together at home is one of Kyungsoo’s favourite things. He loves all the time he gets to spend with you, but there’s nothing more that speaks to him than doing the most mundane domestic things together. For him, it shows promise for your future together as a married couple, and he takes great pride in establishing good routines now as you are dating. He is methodical and diligent, and your home shows this whenever he is not away. You admit that you’re not nearly as onto things cleaning wise as he is, but he’s definitely improved your attempts with how easily he can get you enthused to help him with tasks around the house. The kitchen is his baby though, and cooking together is the highlight of most days. Sometimes he allows you to assist him, teaching you recipes so you can make them when he’s away, and others you merely assist by watching him in his element and handing him the seasoning or something. Either way, the kitchen makes Kyungsoo’s pride shine and it’s so attractive that you cannot help but move to give him a  back hug and kiss him when he turns around, telling him how attractive Chef Soo really is. It makes him beam shyly but he continues with more vigour, satisfied he makes meals that touch you with his efforts and for their impeccable taste.

He is a hopeless romantic and a bit of a love-fool when it comes to you. Whilst out in public he barely touches you, at home cuddles are a big thing. He loves holding you to him, even going as far as making you sit between his legs as you both read your own books/scriptures to feel connected to you at all times. Kisses to the top of your head are mindlessly placed upon you, and you angle your head to peck his neck in response, sometimes stopping for a deeper kiss and then smiling at each other. He’s not super clingy though and can allow you to do your own thing without disrupting you, knowing how important it is to have your own individual time too. All the same, if you’re in the same space, his eyes often trail off his own task and over to you, random compliments being delivered to you when you least expect it. He is gentlemanly, and takes really good care of you, ensuring all your needs are met and cares a great deal for your health too. He still courts you to this day, pressing the doorbell some nights instead of coming inside and thrusts your favourite flowers at you with a knowing smile on his face. Even after all this time, you can excite each other well, the romance between you only growing in its flames, not dying off.

Making out:

Kyungsoo worships you physically and making out sessions are passionate and sensual. They aren’t planned, there’s no obvious one size fits all trigger like with some idols I’ve written for, it could be as simple as seeing you in his favourite colour on you, or watching you do something mindlessly that makes his heart beat faster and he has to grab you. Likewise, you have your own weaknesses for Kyungsoo and will be unable to resist kissing him yourself in those moments too. Admittedly, you do spend a lot of time on the sofa, so it seems like this is the most obvious location for make-out sessions. All the same, when a making out session is initiated there is a need to establish it, your lips entangling as quickly as your hands are fumbling for more of each other. Touching heightens the experience and Kyungsoo loves nothing more than playing with the tempo. clearly he doesn’t mind messing up his own tempo omg I am so lame. Slow and sensual means he can drag out each kiss he places upon your body as his hands run over you slowly, excruciatingly so. Then when he has you begging for more, he’ll oblige in picking it back up, crashing his mouth against yours whilst your bodies grind, press and grip at each other in response. There is no way things are cooling down any time soon, and even if there isn’t a lot of time between whatever is scheduled next, he’ll make sure the ultimate high is reached. Granted, most of the time there’s nothing on and Kyungsoo can take charge of that tempo all day and night long if he wants to.

I have a subheader for you all too:

Stressed kisses: When stressed, the need for physical connection to ground him sometimes outweighs the usual sensual desire that comes with making out. Movements are harder, rougher, Kyungsoo’s hands feel as if they’re gripping right inside of you. It’s never cruel, and whilst a lot of people enjoy writing Kyungsoo as a dom, this is as far as I see it going. His need for you is evident with the demand of his lips on yours, bruising you and biting at your bottom lip to hear you moan. Travelling your body and leaving several love bites on you and feeling your own desperation for more will turn his mood softer, now anchored in the realm of pleasure and not so much on why he had needed you in the first place. His fast-paced and hard actions decrease and you know you’ve helped him overcome some of his frustrations, now needing to deal with the ones you share from the sexual tension.

Morning kisses:

Since Kyungsoo’s favourite way to fall asleep is with you spooned against him and an arm draped over your waist, it makes sense you generally wake up in this position too, squinting when you feel the sun filtering through the gap in the curtains. He often stirs around the same time as you do, planting a kiss on the top of your head and tightening his grip around your waist. You love the mornings with Kyungsoo, his voice is huskier and lower than usual which you still can’t get used to, a giddy smile crossing your lips as he greets you quietly. There is no immediate move from either of you to face one another, content in the way you can reach his shoulder and upper arm if you angle your head to kiss him, and his own lips find their way to the nape of your neck, kissing the soft skin near your ear. Sometimes he’ll playfully chuckle or talk when he’s this close, knowing that you’ll shudder in delight at the heaviness of his voice there as you sleepily chat with each other. Eventually, you’ll turn around in his arms and be greeted with those heart-shaped lips spreading into a lazy grin before he reaches forward to kiss you tenderly, playing with your hair until the alarm goes off. And as much as you want to remain entangled in each other for the rest of the morning, you’re both pretty good at getting up and organising each other for the day, lots of gentle caresses and endless smiles shared over breakfast.

I will say that since there is a sensual way to how your mornings start, especially since Kyungsoo is always enamoured with how beautiful you are first thing when you wake up, there is a definite chance of forgoing the morning pillow-talk for morning sex. He can’t help himself, he’s so in love with you and having you in his arms is already so intimate for him. You both love starting the morning out with your bodies connected in intricate pleasure.

Making up:

Due to the mutual belief that communication makes a relationship stronger, you don’t fight often. This doesn’t make you entirely immune to arguments, but you definitely don’t have as many as some couples I’ve written for due to the prompt approach of dealing with things. Kyungsoo’s biggest “fault” would be that he’s a workaholic and takes on a lot of side projects that keep him away from home most of the time. Much like in Hanbin’s kisses – another workaholic – this does sometimes cause insecurities in the relationship. There is no doubt that you both love each other but the lack of time you have sometimes for your relationship strains it and this is where the majority of your fights stem from. You want more of his time and to not feel second place to his job. Of course, he understands you but it frustrates him all the same as he does the best he can by you. You knew when you started dating what you were getting into, and being the honest type, he is as transparent as he can be with his schedule so you know what’s going on in his world all the time. But that’s the problem, you know about him but you feel like he doesn’t know what’s happening in yours enough. He’s not there when you got a promotion in your new job to celebrate it with you, or when you’ve had a hard day and you could really appreciate more than a five-minute phone call with him to calm you. You try to understand it because he’s been like this from the start and is really attentive to you, but some days your insecurities get the best of you.

Fighting with Kyungsoo is logical even with his temper attached; he knows how to throw it all back at you with little room to argue it rationally. You get defensive and say petty things back until you’re both too overwhelmed to continue and silence fills the room. You’ll generally escape to cry and he’ll sit and brood over it for some time, wondering where he went wrong. How he can make you feel as important to him as he thought you already knew. Being the perfectionist he is, Kyungsoo will see it as he’s failed you despite it just being the situation’s stressors. Eventually, he’ll come and find you in the darkened bedroom or bathroom, silently pulling you into his arms and holding you tightly as you whisper how sorry you are for being insecure. He’ll tell you not to do that right then and wait until you’re both calm to approach new tactics to help your relationship, but until then, you’re both entangled in each other. Kisses are sporadic but deeper than most, your still heightened emotions being the reason for the needy tone in the way you’re kissing one another in apology.

Practice kisses:

I love writing this for idols that act because it’s always a fun section. A great way to involve you in his projects is by practising lines with you from his drama or movie work, helping Kyungsoo perfect his delivery with someone he feels at ease with. Since you have a similar appreciation for the visual arts, you also like going through his lines with him. Kyungsoo puts his all into it even when it’s just you two and it’s like you’re getting a premiere of what you’ll see displayed on a screen in the near future. You don’t just love all the romantic parts, but the drama and the way he can naturally make you shed tears as if you were the main character yourself that you’re speaking for.

Kyungsoo finds it adorable how invested you get in the storyline too, and it’s him who breaks character first, grinning at you as you wipe your tears aside or get really frustrated by what is happening in the scene. “God, you’re so cute,” he mutters and you whine that he’s interrupted your best work yet, his smile growing as he takes you in his arms. He apologises with his lips, kissing you softly and stealing your breath much like he does your heart whenever he acts with you. You have to admit, you aren’t as upset from him breaking from the script and sometimes it encourages you to forgo the fictional world you’ve been steadily involved in for some time, focusing on your own with Kyungsoo instead.

Demanding kisses:

Since a lot of your time together is still movie/drama related, it’s not uncommon for you to watch a lot of things together at night. The difference from when you binge on k-dramas by yourself and when you watch with Kyungsoo is how he critics the acting. It’s a never-ending learning session for him on how he can improve as an actor, and like how we mentioned it in his making up section, this workaholic uses all the tools he can to analyse his own performance. But you just want to enjoy the time together, to snuggle up and not see the mental notes he’s taking from the serious expression on his face. He gets so wrapped up in watching that he sometimes isn’t as aware of you at his side as he should be. Irritated, you let out a heavy sigh before demanding his attention, curling up further into his side and reaching to place your lips on his neck. You’ll hardly receive a reaction out of him sometimes, but with your hand now over his waist and kisses being pressed up to his jawline, his attention shifts to you. The hard gaze he gives you makes you send him a challenging one back and he smirks, grabbing your face and holding you there as he kisses you passionately. Somehow you’ve ended up in his lap and this has a high probability of heading towards a make-out session – not that either of you really mind. But he’ll pull back and give you a look which makes you sheepishly shrug at him before he takes your mouth hostage again, the analysing all forgotten about, unless it’s over how well you’re kissing now. Way to make him stop, and reap the rewards too!

Jealous kisses:

Kyungsoo is naturally protective of you, and it can sometimes come across as a little possessive. He’s not going to control you or prevent you from living your own life, but you are his significant other in his eyes and if someone so much and tries to make a move on you or is overly friendly in front of him, they’re going to feel the intensity of his death glare even from across the room. Depending on the situation, he’ll act accordingly to social protocol but once he’s got you away from the situation he’ll kiss you hard, to settle his heightened emotions down. Half the time you’re not sure why he gets so jealous when he knows just how much you love him, but secretly you kind of like when he kisses you like this, as if he’s claiming your lips and soul as his. Like they aren’t already.

Small note – you get along really well with his EXO members but if one of them gets too much and makes him jealous of the attention you’re giving them, he’ll smack them down, no questions asked.

Scolding/nagging kisses:

Kyungsoo is a bit of a nagger. He likes things done a specific way and you’re not always going to match that. If you’re clumsy or get sick after his strict instructions to always wear a scarf when it’s cold out, he’s naturally going to scold you for it. He’s not overly rude about it but he can irritate you and make you feel like you can’t do anything for yourself when you have bouts of clumsiness and he’s treating your wounds whilst telling you off for not thinking it through. You pout heavily and mutter that we can’t all be perfect like him, which annoys him and you know it. Kyungsoo is self-critical and sees himself as far from perfect, so using that word rubs him the wrong way, especially when the person he loves the most in this world is hurt and he’s worried for you.

But most of the time, you can handle his scolding ways with a kiss, as if you’re healing his worries about you. Whilst he’s tending to your sprained ankle and telling you off for the umpteenth time for not looking where you walk or something of the like, you reach over for his face, stopping the nagging midway and kiss him firmly. He’s rather surprised and his lips only half pucker up into the kiss, blinking at you in confusion when you pull away. “I know you mean well, Soo, but can you just let me bask in your affections and not be scolded for being clumsy yet again?” He’ll sheepishly bite back any remaining words he has, nodding at you as a small smile played on his lips. You are too charming at times for him.

Exhausted or reassuring kisses:

Naturally, Kyungsoo exudes manliness and mannerisms that are suited to leading you within the relationship. And whilst you’re capable of being bold and a go-getter yourself, you don’t actually mind Kyungsoo’s protective approach to your relationship. But it isn’t unbalanced at all. Whilst he’s not always going to have long conversations about his feelings with you, and chooses to show his love as opposed to uttering it to you all the time, he doesn’t hesitate to know when he needs to rely on you. He has no shame in openly showing his weaknesses to you and letting you take control too. It’s rather exuberant to be the person who can hold Do Kyungsoo up when he is exhausted or needing reassurance.

You can tell when he needs you as soon as he’s walked through the door, the way his movements are different from usual. There’s no ease to even the smallest task and you’re already waiting for him when he finally comes up into the apartment, diving into your waiting arms and holding you tightly to him. There’s an added weight as he leans against you for support and your hands gently rub over his back to comfort him. He doesn’t always explain why he’s tired; most of it’s self-explanatory from his work. He definitely doesn’t need you to point that out and you never do, instead, you lead him down to your bedroom slowly, helping him out of his excess layers and into bed. When he wakes up next, he’s so thankful for the care you showed him, staring at you sleeping beside him quietly and reaches over to brush your hair away from your face so he can gaze at you further. Sometimes you stir and he’s instantly apologetic but you don’t mind, smiling gently at him as you move your hand to cup his cheek lovingly. Soft and gentle kisses are delivered in short bursts, Kyungsoo feeling so encased in your love that he’s rather speechless. You smile and tell him no words are needed, that you’re always going to be here for him and nuzzle him gently, telling him to rest up and let the worry and weariness of the day go.

Night kisses:

I just mentioned how he’s not so forthcoming with love confessions all the time, but the one place you can expect them is in bed at night time. Much like your dates being in the dark, it seems like when the lights are out he can openly discuss all the thoughts within his head with you. He has never shied away from telling you about the future he hopes to have with you, getting married and having children are often discussed during these sessions. But he doesn’t stop just there, telling you of how much he needs you and relies on you at his side. How much he’s dreamed of you and him, of times when you’re old and grey together, and as soon as what he wants to achieve with you in the next six months too. Kyungsoo is incredibly thoughtful and affected by your place in his world. All of these words seem more intricate than if they were to be mentioned during the day and you appreciate night time pillow-talk like this with Kyungsoo, mentioning your own dreams you have for your future together. It’s so intense that the words will peter out and instead be replaced with sensual touching and kisses; drinking up each other’s desires for all that you had just envisioned together and becoming completely intoxicated. This is definitely going to end in a night full of lovemaking, and bringing you one day closer to everything you both dream of.

_______________

All rights reserved © prettywordsyouleft

Other EXO members: Suho // Yixing // Chen // Chanyeol // Kyungsoo // Sehun

[Different Kisses Masterlist] | [Main Masterlist] | [Request Guidelines]

#do kyungsoo #kyungsoo #ksoo #exo #exo imagines #exo scenarios #kpop imagines #kpop scenarios #kyungsoo imagines #kyungsoo scenarios #boyfriend! kyungsoo #pwyl; different kisses #prettywordsyouleft requested

[the-ember-in-your-eyes]

Beginning with Witchcraft: pt1

So, for a lot of people who want to begin with witchcraft, everything is a confusing mess and you don’t know where to start. Especially online. For these people (yes, also for you) I am making this series of posts. They give a start and offer a hand to take while you discover your own Path in this side of life. 

Small disclaimer: I try to keep this guide insclusive, so it won’t be centered around one faith (such as Wicca). If people are interested I will make a Wicca related post, but the main theme won’t be that. If you are Wiccan, you can still enjoy this though!

This is by no means a definite list or guide: you don’t have to follow this lead, and I don’t know everything either. Also important, I make mistakes too, and all of this is based on my own experience. Take this information as you wish, and discard it if it is no use for you, I don’t blame you.

Most important in this is that you do what feels good for you, what makes you feel empowered and what helps you in your craft. (Yes, this might mean stepping out of your comfort zone now and then, but that isn’t a necessity).

Without further redo, read on to start the first part of this guide!

As a starting witch, the question I asked myself most often was, “Where do I start?” My friend, who is starting to get interested into this too, has the same question.

In my opinion, this are the basics in witchcraft:

Bending energy streams to your will and intent

Bundeling your spells, signs and other magical recipes

and Keeping track of your discoveries

The energy one is what makes the magic. I believe all spellwork, potions, spelljars and other magic is a way of converting your intent and using energy to do so, to make happen what you wish to happen. I know this sounds very vague, but that’s because it’s the umbrella factor. Intent is everything. Intent guides the Magic/Energy.

To do so, I believe it helps to find what you believe harbors the energy that brings on the Magic. Some believe in a God, Goddess or a whole Pantheon, others believe in Fairies with these powers, or in wandering Souls. What you believe to be the manifestation of the energy you’re going to manipulate is important, but it doesn’t have to be the same for everyone. Live and let live people, everyone’s experiences are different. 

Once you figured out where your Magic or Energy comes from, it’s important to get a bond with that source. Pray, talk and offer to your Deities, Spirits or Beings. Establish a connection witht them.The best times to do this is during the Sabbats and Full or New moon, but -especially when you get more comfortable with them- you can do this always. Maybe you grew up with a faith, and you know you can always talk to that God/dess. It’s pretty much exactly like that.

Since you’ve dived into witchcraft you probably have seen or heard all these nice spells, potions, curses and other recipes for Magic. Good! Be curious and read up on all of that! When you find something you think is usefull, save it. Write it down, type it out, copy it to a document, take a screenshot, reblog it, whatever works for you. But do save it. And then, when you feel ready or when the time is there, use it. Do as the recipe says and discover if it works for you.

This leads me to the last point. Keeping track. Get yourself a notebook, a folder or a document reserved for your Magic. Write down everything you learn and your discoveries around certain spells and recipes. Write about your Deities/Spirits/Beings and keep track of what they like in terms of offerings, conversations, what they are like, what their strenghts are, all about them. Write about the Sabbats or the moon phases or gems/crystals or sigils or spelljars or runes or tarot, whatever has your interest. It doesn’t need to be neat or organized. This is solely meant to give you a hand, to prevent you from repeating past mistakes and to keep learning without forgetting everything all the time.

If you want to give yourself a task to guide you with this part of the process, here are some suggestions:

Find a way to Keep track. Read up on Grimoires, Books of Shadows and Light and find a way that suits you. Be in online or old-fashioned and handwritten. Get yourself a pretty notebook if that is your thing, or spend some time trying out and finding a nice font to use in your document if you prefer that.

Find the way you believe the Energy manifestates for you. Browse through God/desses or Pantheons, read up on Spirits and Souls and Beings, and try to see for yourself with whom you connect. Then learn about them. Don’t be afraid to switch if you find someone that fits you better (but don’t just abandon anyone, always be polite!)

Browse through the witchcraft tags on various social media platforms and try to pick some stuff you want to learn about. Plants, cooking, spirits, curses, tarot, palmistry, predicting the future are some (not nearly all!!) of the most common subtypes of witchcraft, and you don’t have to limit yourself to just one or two. Find what interests you and start there, branching out and continuing to learn.

Congrats on reaching the end of this long post, best of luck and I hope to see you in a later part of this series!

* AL *

#witch #witchcraft #craft #magic #magick #magical #baby witch #beginner witch #witch tips #witch tip #witchy #grimoire #book of shadows #bos #AL teaches witchcraft #male witch #wicca #wiccan #not wiccan

[westwingwolf]

Title: A Small Offering

Fandom: Charmed (2018)

Characters: Harry Greenwood, Maggie Vera

Summary: Harry and Maggie have a post-Tartarus discussion. Meant to be the talk Maggie alludes to in "Witch Perfect" so set between “Keep Calm & Harry On” and “Witch Perfect.” One-shot.

Spoilers: Through “Witch Perfect”

Archived: AO3

Scraps of brightly colored wrapping paper layered the coffee table and sofa where Harry was currently resting in the attic. The sisters, well Macy and Mel, had decided to throw an impromptu celebration to cheer up both he and Maggie a few days after their return from Tartarus. They exchanged gifts and kept the conversation light. Harry drank only a little of the coquito Mel had made. Both because he had learned his lesson from before and because his appetite was low. Best not to drink on an empty stomach.

At the moment, the sisters were cleaning up the kitchen, allowing him time to himself as he was still tired from his stay in Hellcatraz as the others had insisted on calling it.  Even as he remained drained of most of his energy, he appreciated the ladies’ thoughtfulness and all they were doing to aid his recovery. He felt guilty in keeping the secrets of his past from them, but felt it was best not to burden them with more of his problems. Especially Maggie who was still dealing with so much emotional pain.

He heard the creaking of the attic floorboards and the rustling of paper. Opening his eyes, he saw the young witch in question.

“Sorry.” Maggie shrugged sheepishly. “I didn’t mean to wake you. Just wanted to clean up and…” she trailed off.

“You didn’t wake me. I was just resting my eyes for a bit. You were saying?” He moved aside allowing her room to sit next to him on the sofa.

Maggie dropped the crumbled balls of paper back down on the table as she accepted his invitation. “Is it weird if I say I wanted to make sure you were still here?”

“Not at all. When I wake up, I have to look around before I remember I’m not back there.”

“I totally get that.” She rubbed the faint black vein marks that were fading a little more each day. Harry’s marks were still darkly visible and probably would remain so for quite a while. She had only spent a few hours in Tartarus when he had been there for over a week. Somehow she felt trapped still. She knew her sisters would listen, but they’d never fully understand what it was like. Harry would know but her experiences felt small by comparison. And she didn’t feel right asking him what memories he must have experienced. If he wanted to share, he would. She wouldn’t pry.

“You know I’m here to listen if you want to talk about it,” Harry said.

Maggie smiled. “Now, who is the mind reader?”

Harry laughed. “Occupational hazard of being a whitelighter, I’m afraid. We can always tell when our charges need our help.”

Maggie sobered her expression. Finding the courage to admit what she had been feeling for the last few days. “I don’t know how you were able to stand staying in Tartarus for so long. I was here, and I couldn’t handle the pain without doing a spell. You took all of the torture they gave you, and still asked for mine. You saved me when I was supposed to be saving you.” She dropped her eyes to stare at the floor. Ashamed to look at him.

“Maggie, look at me.” When she met his eyes again, he continued. “You did save me. And I’m not just talking about that impressive spell you created.” His smile as he said this made her smile as well. He took a beat to calm himself before he admitted. “I wanted to give up. Let Hell have me. But then I heard you call for me. As much as I hated the idea of you being trapped there, as much as I would have gladly stayed in Tartarus if it meant that you and your sisters were safe, it doesn’t change the fact that your voice gave me hope. You reminded me of who I am. Of my purpose. So if you are feeling any guilt or shame for the pain you feel after being in Tartarus. Don’t. I wanted to take your pain because that’s what I’m meant to do. I have to so you can do what you’re meant to do.”

“Create kickass spells.”  She said with a small satisfied smile.

“I believe the word I used was ‘impressive.’”

“I know, but my word is better.”

Harry shook his head. “I knew I should have gone with the dictionary for your Christmas gift.”

The actual gift he had given her was a training orb like the one he used. The accompanying note said it was to keep her from taking his without permission, and that she was to never tell him if she used it for any extracurricular activities. He thought it was a good idea at the time, but that had been before the truth about Parker had been discovered. When she read the note, she smiled and thanked him for the gift, but he knew her smile was just to keep him from worrying. He believed she would have reacted differently if Parker had never betrayed her. Just another reason to be angry with the lad.

“Keep talking like that, and I’m taking back my gift to you.” She had given him a sweater that she claimed was the height of fashion. He had to admit it would still fit in with his wardrobe while giving it an updated quality. And apparently brought out the green in his eyes.  Her words, not his. She also offered to join him the next time he went shopping. Which he suspected was more of a present for her rather than him, but he appreciated it all the same.

“Speaking of gifts, I wanted to give you this.” He slowly reached for the present he had hidden beneath his pillows. He handed her a medium sized object that just by the heft and size she immediately knew it to be a book. Perhaps he really had gone ahead with that dictionary.

“You already gave me my very own training orb. Besides, when did you have time to do this? We barely got you to stand long enough to move from the living room to the attic.”

“Actually, I had brought it to give with the other offerings. It was meant to be a sort of family gift. Now, I think we can consider it a shared ‘Congratulations on Surviving Hell’ gift.”

“In that case, I guess I can’t refuse.” She eagerly ripped into the expertly wrapped paper. She had to laugh when she saw the title. “A Thousand and One Vegan Recipes. So you finally figured it out, huh?”

“Of course. What kind of whitelighter would I be if I wasn’t vigilant when it came to my charges’ preferences?”

“You do remember I can read your mind, right?” She asked him skeptically.

Giving in, he admitted. “Very well. Mel had to tell me. But now that I know, I am quite eager to try my hand at these recipes. ”

Laughing, Maggie said, “I have to admit I did kind of miss your cooking. I broke down and ate all the leftover fruitcake you prepared.”

“Did you really?” Harry said, obviously pleased.

“Don’t look so happy. I was sad. I would have eaten anything. And it was still disgusting by the way.” She wouldn’t mention that his ugly, unwashed Christmas sweater vest was still in her room waiting to be returned to him. She kept it as a memorial to remember who they were fighting for and to not let herself get fooled again.

The attic settled into silence for a few moments as they both were lost to their own thoughts. Finally, Maggie broke through it with the question that had been bothering her since she had opened Harry’s first gift to her. “Did you suspect? … About Parker?” Upon Harry’s confused expression, she continued. “I’m not saying you knew he was part demon because if you did, of course you’d tell me. But did you suspect he was shifty about something? You mentioned that you programmed the training orb to specifically help me improve my empathic power. Did you believe that I desperately needed to improve? Do you think my power is a liability?”

Harry immediately shook his head. “No, that’s not it at all. I programmed the orb to be best suited to training your abilities because my intention was that the gifts I gave you and your sisters would help you become the best witches you can be.  I meant what I said back in Tartarus. Let love be your strength… because love is your greatest strength.  Your power relies on your ability to love. To trust. And to want what’s best for people.”

Maggie leaned back into the sofa cushions and took a deep breath. “I don’t know if I can do that anymore. I want to, but I don’t know if I still can. Right now you, Mel, and Macy are the only people I can trust.”

Harry recognized the expression of defeat on Maggie’s face as the same one she wore on Christmas Eve as they sat side by side on another sofa. His heart broke for her then just as it does now.  He had meant to take her aside at some point to speak about her declaration of never blindly trusting again, but then all hell had broken loose. Literally.

Placing a hand on Maggie’s shoulder to both get her attention and comfort her, Harry stated, “I understand wanting to use caution, and even wanting to hold back because you’re afraid you’ll be hurt again. It wouldn’t hurt to use your instincts to question others when warranted, but you can’t allow what Parker has done as reason to harden your heart. If you close yourself off from everyone, it will have a devastating effect on your power. More importantly, it will fundamentally change you from who you are. And who you are meant to be. You can’t let Parker or anyone take that from you.”

“Thanks, Har.” Maggie carefully hugged him, mindful of the fact that he was still in some pain. As they held onto one another she picked up on Harry’s thoughts.

 Please let me have helped her. I can’t leave her in pain.

As she pulled back, she wanted to ease Harry’s concerns. “Talking to you has really helped. I’m going to try to follow your advice.” She took a breath before adding, “I’m still sad though.”

“That’s perfectly understandable.  Perhaps, it would be a good idea to take up a new hobby or interest. Keep your mind on something that makes you happy. Something purely for fun.” He suggested.

Maggie thought about the times when she was truly happy and escaping from the world. “I have always loved singing. And I heard they were having auditions for The Hilltones soon.”

“Singing? Excellent idea! I’ve been to a few of their concerts. I think you’d fit in quite nicely. If the singing I accidentally caught you doing while you were having that random dance party with your sisters was anything to go by.” He was referring to the time he had teleported into the living room to advise the sisters on a recent surge of demonic weather patterns and to be aware of the possibility of it raining frogs. Surprised to find the revered Charmed Ones dancing around the coffee table like characters in those romantic comedies he would never admit he watched. He intended to teleport himself back out without being noticed, but Maggie had seen him and subsequently pulled into the dancing soiree. Needless to say, it was very embarrassing for him as he tried to keep up with the ladies. But remembering the expression of complete happiness Maggie had that night as she tried to teach him the latest dances, he would gladly offer himself up for embarrassment again.

“Okay then. I’ll try out. And whether I get in or not, maybe when you’re feeling better, we can have a Karaoke night? Macy said you liked it.” At Harry’s nod in agreement, she continued. “Good. You should also think about doing something to get your mind off of your time in Tartarus. Is there anything you’re interested in? And you can’t say anything that involves magic.”

Harry immediately thought of his son. “I have a subject in mind that I’m currently interested in pursuing.”

“Anything I can do to help?” She was eager to repay Harry for all he had done to help her. And she really needed to know that he wasn’t getting lost in his memories of Hell. She could feel his depression rolling across him like the black venom in his veins rolled along his skin.

Harry shook his head. “Thank you, but this is something I’d rather see to myself.” He began to move away from her, withdrawing into himself and careful not to touch her.

She didn’t want him to feel forced to tell her, and noticing his reaction she believed he felt reluctant around her for fear of getting too close so she could read his mind. She didn’t want to avoid him, but she made the decision to keep some physical distance for the next few days so he could have the time he needed to recover with peace of mind. “Okay, if you change your mind, you know where to find me.  I’ll let you get some more rest now.” She stood up, taking the recipe book with her in order to show it to Macy and Mel before placing it in the kitchen. Walking halfway to the attic door, she turned back around. “Harry?”

“Yes, Maggie?” He noticed she seemed hesitant to finish her thought.

“You’re going to still be here, right? No plans on going anywhere?”

“Well, I assumed when I was feeling better I would return to my condo. Can’t have you ladies waiting on me hand and foot forever, can I?” He replied with a teasing smile.

She let out a small laugh. “No, I mean we’re not going to lose you again, are we? Because if I have to drag your ass out of Hell again, I’ll do it, but it’s really gonna cost ya.” She meant it as a joke, but they both knew neither she nor her sisters would hesitate to retrieve their whitelighter from any danger.

In order to ease her concerns and lighten the mood, he replied “I shall endeavor to avoid as many hell pits as possible in the future. Besides, I have at least a thousand and one vegan recipes I need to prepare for you.”

Maggie smiled, clutching the recipe book in question. Truth was she would endure any food Harry wanted to cook as long as he was around to do so. But that didn’t mean she wouldn’t still give him a hard time about said cooking. “I’ll hold you to it. Goodnight, Harry.”

“Sleep well, Maggie.”

Harry hoped he can keep his promise to Maggie. He had no desire to abandon her and her sisters. But with each day he felt more and more unlike the man he thought himself to be. He questioned whether he is worthy to be Whitelighter to the Charmed Ones. Perhaps The Elders made a mistake in granting him the position. Perhaps they never should have made him a whitelighter at all.  

Maggie once proposed that her and her sisters should become his new family, and though he made a joke at the time, he was truly honored and touched. For the first time in a long while, Harry felt like he belonged.

But would Maggie make the same offer again if she knew the man Harry really was?

#Harry Greenwood #Maggie Vera #Maggie x Harry #Charmed fanfiction #Charmed 2018 #CW Charmed #CW Charmed fanfiction #westwingwolf

[peckhampeculiar]

Straight to the sauce

SALES OF HOT SAUCE ARE SOARING, WITH MOUTHWATERING VARIETIES FLYING OFF THE SHELVES LIKE NEVER BEFORE.

Three producers from Peckham and Camberwell talk about their homegrown recipes and why so many people do indeed like it hot

WORDS: HELEN GRAVES PHOTO: LIMA CHARLIE

Chillies are loved around the world for their unique flavour, wide-ranging heat levels and the buzz they give us as we add ever-increasing amounts to our food. The hot sauce business is booming, with lots of independent producers simmering, fermenting and blending chillies before funnelling them into handy, shakeable bottles.

Jen Ferguson, co-founder of Hop Burns & Black, said her business is enjoying a bumper year for hot sauce, with revenue from hot sauce sales in the East Dulwich Road shop alone up by 54% in the first three months of this year compared to the same period in 2018.

From the mild, everyday cayenne-based sauces to those made with the beautiful but serious scotch bonnets we see every day on Rye Lane, people can’t get enough of these spicy additions.

Now, three local brands – Peckham Sauce Co, Disco Hot Sauce and Slow Richie’s – are making names for themselves with their addictive homegrown recipes. Exactly how does one end up in the hot sauce business?

Archie Woodward of Peckham Sauce Co got into it through his love of fermentation, originally just making gifts for friends and family. A combination of “trial and error mixed with serendipity” led him to “create a unique fermented hot sauce that was like nothing [he’d] ever tasted”.

After doing some research and finding there were very few other fermented sauces on the market, he decided to use his background in marketing to launch a new business and has “never looked back”.

Just down the road in Camberwell, Jen Katan and Oli Kissick-Jones of Disco Hot Sauce were inspired by the scotch bonnet bounty so freely available in this corner of south-east London. “We were walking home from a night out and decided we wanted a late-night snack with some decent hot sauce but knew we were out of our usual fridge stock,” Oli explains.

“There’s always the opportunity to buy scotch bonnets from any of the late-night convenience stores so at 2am we embarked on making some of our own. We both have a lot of energy so we figured, what better time to knock some up?”

For brothers Richie and Alex Calver of Slow Richie’s it was a case of developing their established street-food brand, loved for their giant, juicy burgers and now their “hog kitchen” at Brick Brewery.

“Having had a career as a chef before starting Slow Richie’s, I believe in making food from scratch using fresh ingredients, not just opening a packet or jar,” explains Richie. “We were raised on spicy foods, so all our hot sauces contain a hefty amount of chillies.”

This includes that ever-present scotch bonnet, which they blend into their “Blenheim Black” with Brick Brewery’s Blenheim Black ale, where its fruitiness balances well with the bitter hops.

In fact, all three producers are huge fans of the chilli so familiar to residents of this part of London, with the Peckham Sauce Co fermenting their Batch One hot sauce with the bobbly, lantern-shaped bonnets as well as Dutch chillies, paprika, coriander, mustard seeds and garlic. This produces a sauce that is fresh and hot but aromatic too. “Some people say it’s quite similar to ’nduja [the spicy Calabrian sausage], which I can kind of see,” Archie muses.

Jen and Oli make their Disco Hot Sauce with a heavy dose of turmeric in addition to the scotch bonnets, inspired by a trip Jen took to Panama, where she fell in love with a “scotch bonnet-based hot sauce with mustard, fresh vegetables and herbs like onion, garlic and lots of turmeric. They serve it everywhere and keep it in recycled whiskey bottles.”

She resolved to come back and make a version of the sauce, albeit with a special “London twist” that includes English mustard.

With the hot sauce market crammed full of products, these cooks focus on small batches produced with high quality ingredients. “All of our chillies come from Rwanda,” explains Archie.

“We work closely with a few farms out there because the quality is second to none and it’s less than 24 hours from picking to landing at Gatwick. From there they get chopped down to a mash, then we chuck in salt along with our favourite herbs and spices. We then seal up the barrel and let it sit for at least one month but it can be up to three. Once that’s complete all we do is blend down the barrel and throw in some vinegar.”

At Slow Richie’s, all sauces are handmade in the kitchen at Dulwich Hamlet football club and they often take things one step further by working with high quality local producers.

In addition to their collaborations with Brick Brewery, they’ve made sauces with Gosnells mead (a green cayenne number) and Kanpai sake (roasted chilli and horseradish). Richie also cultivates some of the chillies at home for “small batch sauces”, including the fearsome Carolina Reaper, which currently holds the Guinness World Record for the hottest chilli pepper on the planet (it has been claimed that other chillies are spicier but this has not been confirmed by Guinness).

So what’s the best way to enjoy these sauces? Slow Richie’s, unsurprisingly, suggests trying it on their swine-based sandwiches at the brewery. Their behemoth Black Hog sandwich is made with slow-roast pork, black pudding and their Original Hot Sauce, while the Classic Hog comes with an impressive shard of crackling and their sweet-spicy chilli apple sauce (see their Instagram page @slowrichies for incredible photos that should come with a trigger warning for the hungry). Diners can then buy a bottle to take away and douse their sandwiches for ever more.

For Archie at Peckham Sauce Co, a bacon sandwich is number one. “It’s my favourite thing about the weekend,” he says. “I also made a Batch One braised short rib, which was pretty mind-blowing and the recipe for that is over on our Instagram [@peckhamsauceco] if you want to check it out. Batch Two [their habanero, yellow pepper and peach sauce] is pretty decent on tacos because you get a good hit of sweet, tangy spice.”

Jen and Oli are less specific, saying: “We eat it on literally everything! We also experiment with recipes and post the creations on our Instagram [@discohotsauce]. Last Saturday we made a spicy cod and fried egg ‘disco bap’ for breakfast and drenched that with Disco Hot Sauce. We add it to mayo for a spicy mayonnaise.

“It can also be used in salad dressings to add a kick, or as a flavour enhancer in a stew. We’ve also been experimenting with drinks too – a Disco Michelada went down a treat during the summer and the Disco Mary was on the drinks menu at the Montpelier pub last summer. We’re hoping to introduce it to the White Horse menu very soon.”

All the producers clearly have strong ties to Peckham’s creative community. “Being a local in south-east London has been brilliant for discovering food entrepreneurialism and connecting our favourite dance haunts and music networks with the sauce,” Jen enthuses.

It turns out the name Disco Hot Sauce comes from a combined passion for music and chillies. “I’ve worked in the music industry most of my life for labels such as Universal and currently Kobalt’s AWAL,” explains Oli. “I still DJ regularly and spent my early London days running dance parties and hanging out in late-night discotheques.”

“So much has changed in the six years Peckham has been home,” Richie says. “In that time the food and drink scene has grown massively and it’s been great being a part of it. There’s a real festival feeling in the area throughout the summer months; from the rooftops to Peckham Rye Park, everyone is having a great time. There’s very little reason to leave the area these days, with so much going on.”

Archie agrees: “I live in Peckham and it’s the best place in London – there’s literally no other place I’d rather be. There’s always so much going on, with new places popping up and exciting events. There’s very few places where you have it all and I think Peckham is one of them. The day I have to leave will be a very sad day.”

#featuredpost

[alchemagick]

Hi! Well.. I'm just starting into this, so.. I'd like to know what's the best thing I could do to start in the correct way... Reading a book or something... (I don't know if there's anything to help with mental health too) Anything... Thanks

Hello,friend!

For starters, there’s really no“correct” way to go about the craft. No two witches are the same; we all havedifferent affinities, abilities, opinions, etc., which help to shape our path.That being said, here are a few things you may want to look into to start yourjourney!

Your hobbies

Start here. Might seem odd, but whatbetter way to start practicing witchcraft than to incorporate it into somethingyou already love to do?

“Being in nature fuels me! I love learning about different herbs and plants!” You might like Green witchery.

Plants used in herbalism

Another list for cross reference

Books on herbalism  Herb metaphysical correspondences

Another herb correspondence list (these last two were heavily Wicca based, so I’d suggest a lot more cross-reference if Wicca isn’t something you’re into)

“I often have very vivid and intense dreams and love looking into the meanings behind them!” Take a look into Dream Witchery.

Dream interpretation symbols

More symbol interpretations

Books on dream interpretation

The Interpretation of Dreams - Sigmund Freud

Have some PDFs: [X] [X] [X]

“I feel a deep connection to the sea. I love spending my days walking along the beach, collecting shells, and taking in the ocean’s energy.” Sea Witchery for the win.

Sea Witch vs. Water Witch

Ocean Magick

Correspondences AF

Shell Correspondence List

“I long for rainy days and feel empowered by strong shifts in the weather. Splashing in puddles, who doesn’t love that?!” Storm/Weather Witchery may be calling you.

Some Storm basics

Harness the power of the storm

Weather Magick Practices

“I love cooking. I spend a lot of my time cleaning up around the house and keeping life in the home comfortable.” You may thrive with Kitchen Witchery.

Tips and Recipes

Spice Magickal Properties

Tips, Tricks, Info

Kitchen Witch Books

Tea Magick How To

Tea Magick Recipes

“Everything I do is centered around technology and I wouldn’t have it any other way! Playing online games and browsing social media is where I’m most happy and comfortable.” Tech Witchery, here you come!

Master Post – So, I’ve been trying to stay away from just linking tumblr posts (I sort of take issue with people getting all their information from Tumblr), but seeing as Tech Witchcraft is a newer thing, there just isn’t much information on it, so here you go!

“I’m a pyro/geo/aero/hydro-maniac. Okay, not literally, but I feel a deep connection to the elements.” Elemental Witchery might be for you.

Fire Magick

Water Magick

Earth Magick

 Air Magick

“I wanna practice witchcraft but I love living in the city… I don’t have to move, right?!” No, you don’t Urban Witch.

Urban Witch Tips

Spell Casting

Urban Witchcraft How To

Spells/Rituals Book

“I love learning about mythical creatures! Fairies are especially beautiful and I’ve always been interested in them.” Buckle your seat belt, Fey Witchery is a wild ride.

The truth about Fey

Working with Faeries

Faery traditions – This page is amazing, it has links to books, articles, lots of historical info

Wow okay thatwasn’t even the tip of the iceberg. There are so many different types ofwitches; if I were to list all of them I fear this answer would be postponedanother week. You can find a list of types of witches/witchcraft here.

As far as witchcraft for mental health, this can be tackled with any form of witchcraft. I personally think that there is a little Green Witch in all of us because knowing the medical uses and correspondences of herbs and oils can be really useful. Take me for example! I’m slowly working toward switching from using medications to only using herbal remedies (please do not jump into this right away, this is something I’ve been researching for over a year now and takes lots of time and dedication to really understand and put to use) for my medical problems, and soon my PCP will be a naturopathic doctor. This doesn’t work for everyone, but it just goes to show that there is so much merit in using what nature freely gives us to cure our ailments.

A few more tips for you to start out:

Go to your local library and check out some books on the occult. Even if it’s a book about the history of witchcraft, that is an awesome place to start.

Get yourself a journal/the start of a Book of Mirrors. Here’s a great post explaining the difference between different witchy books. A BoM isn’t necessary, but it could help you immensely in keeping track of all the info you find and figuring out which path is right for you.

Don’t limit yourself! If one form of witchcraft seems to contradict another, you don’t have to throw one of them away yet. If you are interested in both of them, then study both of them; challenge yourself to find ways to make them cohesive. You may discover new beliefs you never knew you had.

You don’t need any deities. If you have one/some that’s great! But if you don’t currently follow any deities and don’t see yourself doing so in the future, that is completely and 100% valid. Do not let any old crotchety witch try to tell you that you need deities.

Have fun - I think a lot of new witches get caught up in the seriousness of research and forget that witchcraft can be so much fun. It’s empowering, incredible, breathtaking - it is what you make it, and if you’re constantly stressed about it then what’s the point?

Good luck, friend! I hope this helped to guide you in starting your journey. If you have any other questions or want to talk to me in PM, please feel free to do so! I’m happy to help in any way I can. Love and light. ❤

#alchemagick #alchemy #occult #witchcraft #beginner witch #witchblr #asks #lunar

[thehappymessproject]

50/100 - What does trusting the process even mean?

Story time, for all my fellow lost souls out there

I almost cannot believe that I have been writing everyday for the past 50 days. 

Fifty days ago, I was so nervous about writing that way for the first time. I had never tried to start something destined to be so huge for me. Learning how to read and write were an incredible revolution for me, they gave so much meaning to my life as a child. After a couple of years of avid reading, my head was full of stories and characters, but I never dared to put them on paper. 

The first thing I ever wrote was a (very mediocre) poem (the only I’ve ever written) in French (1st language) about the eyes, and what a look can convey, the most important being the look of love in someone’s eyes. 

I started a few fictions as a teen, that I consistently got rid of out of embarrassment after a couple of badly written chapters. After that, writing took a heavier tone, being all about studying. Until writing helped get over a major depressive episode when I started a cooking blog (that I quit after only a few months and posts).

Cooking helped at that time, giving me at the same time a way to practice creativity, and also food to give me comfort and some extra joy. But I’m always a bit wary about going solo and cooking instead of following a recipe. It was quite frustrating to me, perfectionism and poor self-esteem always make things harder than they are. 

That year, out of boredom and frustration that I took out on my skin by looking for “the perfect beauty regiment”, I also discovered homemade cosmetics : an activity at the crossroads with cooking and chemistry (I always had a soft spot for chemistry), while allowing me to lavish into delicious smells and scrumptious pampering? Please sign me the heck in!

I started writing out of frustration : I was focusing so much energy on learning everything on how to make my own products and how the human skin and hair work from birth to death. I created a Facebook group about it, and helped as much as I could making it a place where people could find a lot of information, as well as a helpful community. After months of writing the same things over and over, it got way less fun, but the idea of writing everything I gathered and discussed in a year really was. THAT was the last time I wrote that much in so little time before here, ten years ago. 

And it was so much easier since quite a few people were expecting my articles, demanding more, creating conversations about them. It was incredible to feel supported that way while going through that writing journey and the sense of community it brought me was so meaningful to me. 

Sadly, I never felt about homemade cosmetics the way I do about psychology. I actually worked as a cosmetic chemist freelancer and hated most of it. At some point, I also found ways to practice self-care that were more meaningful to me than beauty regiment. But I was sad to have lost that special place in my life and even more to lose the writing momentum for almost ten years. 

I went to a different university to study psychology the way I really wanted to for my last year, and explored so many other facets of my personality. It’s one of my favourite years of my life so far. I had another depressive episode when I arrived in London a year later, and had to get an awful nanny job to pay the bills. Finally starting to work as a therapist helped me greatly to focus on others and finding new things I still wanted to study got me both through that dark time. I was quite busy for a few years.

I started to write again 5 years ago, and it was as exciting as it was terrifying. My perfectionism made it hell. It’s only when, two years ago, I started to focus on cultivating creativity in my life again that I was able to begin to really challenge some of the stories about myself that were making me miserable, like thinking I was that girl that started out very excited but would give up anything she started eventually, or that I wasn’t that creative : it was simply not my thing given how little talent I had at anything that wasn’t purely intellectual.

I began to publish the art I was making out of frustration : I was taking so many classes, having so much fun painting, drawing and lettering, but was oh so frustrated to have the opportunity to share it with so few people. It was quite fun to discover Instagram and all the amazing communities one can find there. 

I started writing those super long captions everyday, and quickly realised I was more into writing the captions than sharing the art itself. But the idea that so few people would actually read them and the lack of dialogue, made me, again, so frustrated. After trying different things, I came back to the only thing I found to truly help me with discipline : a container that I was finding important and interesting enough. 

I took on a few challenges over the years : first to keep doing yoga, then to learn how to meditate regularly, then to explore art making in a deeper way. Until I arrived here again, doing this 100 days challenge to learn how to write everyday. 

Honestly, I still don’t know what I want to write. I mean, now, I know with certainty that I want to write books at some point, I know they’ll be about the things I am talking about here, I just can’t tell what format, what topic or even the way I want to do this thing yet. 

The only thing I know for sure is that I love writing everyday more than anything I’ve done everyday ever. I also know part of me wants really hard to try to make sketch notes and visuals about articles, studies and TED talks I’m reading and watching. So I am in the middle of trying to figure out how I want to explore those. And I know from experience now, that that’s more than enough for me to know. 

If I told you that story today, sharing my kind of weird and scattered journey of nearly 30 years, is to say that if there is ONE thing I am taking out of all of this is that we can trust our life process. Wether it’ll be through tough periods or by falling in love with things, it will never be linear or easy, but as long as we follow our heart and are ready to flex our bravery muscles, we’ll find our way. 

See you tomorrow,  Love,  L. 

#creativity #writers helping writers #writers tips #artist tips #lost #personal #writer #100 days project #100 days of writing #psychologist #therapist #the happy mess project #recovery #healing #depression #perfectionism #procrasination

[lillianfromaccounting]

Finally getting around to this!

Was tagged by @cenobitic-anchorite (thank you!)

Putting this under a read more, because I wrote a lot.

1. What is your favorite movie? My answer to this is always Sleeping Beauty because it was the first movie that I stayed up watching with no adults. Like I must have been around 7 and my older cousin was 12 and we stayed up watching it after all the adults went to sleep. So for me, it signified some sort of independence. (On another note, that same cousin and I also stayed up to watch Pretty Woman before I realized what was going on in that movie.)

I know sometimes it’s a cop out answer, because I really can’t pick a favorite live action movie. There’s too many and I love a lot of them. Also, usually, when I say Sleeping Beauty, based on the other person’s reaction, I can tell if they’ll be compatible and/or get my vibe or not.

2.  If you had to drastically change your hair, how would you cut it and what color would you dye it?  I want rainbow hair, but I can’t have that where I work. I’ve been saying I’ve wanted to dye it red for several months now, but haven’t made the appointment yet (long story, but also mostly me dragging my feet). I’ve ALWAYS wanted a pixie cut, but have always been told that my face shape isn’t good for it (I did it senior year of college and there were people who flat out told me never to get that hair cut again). I’ll do it again, when I feel like I have the energy to maintain it.

3.  Can you drive a manual transmission car? lol, no. I can just barely drive an automatic. (Fact: I got my license at age 23 and didn’t regularly drive until 32.)

4.  What’s your favorite thing to cook or bake? Why? Is there a word limit to this? Cuz we’ll be here a few days. lol Favorite thing to bake is scones because I love scones. I also love to bake pumpkin chocolate chip cookies. And anything with a short pastry, so pies, tarts. I LOVE making sweet danishes. Oh crumb cakes. Oooh it’s season for fresh cranberries. I make a really good cranberry lime crumb cake. Cake, in just about every variation (rounds, sheet, cup, etc.) I like these because they’re delicious (and very few bakeries make them well, and I’m a dessert snob. If I’m eating it, it better be worth the calories. I’m also very particular about my cake to frosting/crumb ratio). Also, fact: I suck at baking regular cookies. I can do it, but they never look right and I’m pretty sure I’m screwing up the ratio of dry to wet ingredients or the butter’s not cold enough or something, but yeah, my cookies always look seriously deformed. (yes, I’ve seen that chart that troubleshoots cookies. No, it hasn’t helped.)

Favorite thing to cook. Hm... go to comfort stuff: penne vodka, but really, I like trying new recipes.

5.  How old were you when you got your ears pierced (if your ears aren’t pierced, do you want to get them pierced? The first time I got my ears pierced, I think I was in 8th grade, so 13-ish. After the initial however long it was that you’re supposed to keep them in, I got lazy so I didn’t keep earrings in all the time (and they hurt my ears), so the holes apparently closed. I got them re-pierced in sophomore or junior year of high school and again, after a little while, they closed again. I was thinking about getting them re-pierced again.

6.  Do you like Thanksgiving? Why or why not? I LOVE Thanksgiving. Yes, the historical aspect can go to hell, but personally, I love Thanksgiving. So growing up, being Chinese, we never celebrated American Thanksgiving. When I was about 13, I got a bread making book from the Scholastic book fair and discovered that we had a working oven (Chinese people don’t cook with ovens. We have a wok and a rice cooker. That’s really all you need.). Anyway, I started baking bread and it was amazing.

Also, our local supermarket would do the holiday promotion of if you spend $X, you can get a free holiday protein, and being a household of 8 (sometimes 10), we hit that spending threshold very, very quickly. So one year, I told my mom that we’re getting a turkey, instead of the ham that she likes. She was skeptical, but I was hell bent on celebrating American Thanksgiving and figuring out what this whole turkey hoopla was about.

I started cooking a Thanksgiving feast for my family (immediate and extended) from the age of 14. I did a sticky rice stuffing in the bird. Mashed sweet potatoes (no marshmallow. it’s sweet enough by itself.) I always made a lasagna (with cheese from DiPalo’s, where I would wait hours on line for our order) or another pasta dish. We did Chinese vegetables. And every year, we would pick new recipes we’d want to try. By ‘we’, I mean me. I would pick new recipes that I’d want to try and my three younger siblings would be obligatory sous chefs. And since bread baking happened in the wee early hours of the morning, we would have it for breakfast. So then I expanded the menu to include breakfast, lunch, and dinner. It became an all day thing and I was (and still am) obsessed.

Oh, it probably also helped to know that I come from a very large extended family and everyone would come through our house during holidays. Usually, it’s because my family hosted the mah jong parties, so we were kinda party central. My biggest Thanksgiving, we had about 50 people cycle through the house that day, so I had to make sure I had food enough for 50 people. Growing up, I’m pretty sure we never had less than 30. (It’s been a shock for me these past several years when we’ve hosted less than 20 people on turkey day.)

Then, my siblings would find recipes that they want to try, and Thanksgiving was this day where we would try food. Not all the recipes worked out, but no one ever got sick or food poisoning (oh man, I have stories from adjacent family members). But yeah. It’s an insane production and I love every minute of it (especially since my mom did the clean up, because bless that woman, she messed up Jiffy corn bread mix when she tried to bake, so she sticks to cleaning).

Anyway, after I got married, I demanded Thanksgiving, which my in-laws didn’t care about because they were getting it catered anyway. But I found out the hard way that they’ve sucked the soul out of my Thanksgiving festivities. One person demanded Stove Top (over fresh sausage dressing?!??!!). Fine. Another prefers roasted turkey (as opposed to smoked or fried). Year after year, they keep telling me to make less food, because they don’t enjoy watching me cook (they think I work too hard, but they also don’t understand that I’m having the time of my life).

At this point, I know that in order to get back to the Thanksgiving that I want to celebrate, it will be after that generation has passed. It’s fine.

I used to start planning my Thanksgiving menu in March, studying recipes and picking and choosing stuff up until like two weeks before hand. Ever since the kids came along, that excitement has also waned. But I’m excited for this year. There will be apple cider mimosas. And I’m roasting a savory pumpkin. And there will be artichokes. Oh and one of my good friends went to Dominique Ansel Kitchen’s pie night this year and had a poached pear chocolate pie that she said was divine. I am attempting to recreate it based on her descriptions of the textures and her pictures. This is what I live for.

(where the fuck is that barney stinson challenge accepted gif when you need it?)

and yes, this year will be my 24th year cooking Thanksgiving dinner.

7.  If you could live in the world of one film, which one would you pick? Oh man. D2: The Mighty Ducks. Ok, I lied. I do have a favorite live action movie. I wish I had a more creative answer to this. Yeah, Harry Potter’s world would be cool. Yeah, I identify with hobbits. Any of the Star Treks would also be good in terms of universes. But I want Adam Banks to teach (13-14 year old) me how to ice skate.

8.  What kind of pet have you never had, but have always wanted? lol one of my bffs and I always wanted a baby panda.

9.  If you won the huge lottery, what would be the first 3 things you’d do?Get a good fucking lawyer, set up a shell foundation so it’s not listed in mine or my husband’s name, prepare to disappear after a couple of years of acting normal. Then, for the more fun three, pay off debt, travel, get a house somewhere the fuck else.

Ceno’s answer was too perfect, so I left it, mainly because I’d pretty much do the same. I’d buy my parents a new house and hire a chauffeur for them. Also @katiekeysburg will get a chauffeur. And I’d throw money at teleportation research. And fund a bunch of gofundmes.

10.  Have you ever gotten a tattoo? What is it? If you haven’t, do you want one? I do not have any but I’ve always wanted one of my Chinese name above my ankle and I’ve always wanted the pi character somewhere (debated various locations). One day, when I get the guts to. (and when it’s seasonally appropriate to get one above my ankle, cuz omg I never knew about the various care required while it heals.)

11.  What’s the stupidest thing you’ve ever done? hahaha um. Probably calling the cops on an online friend who I thought was going to kill himself, but he really wasn’t (but I didn’t know that). (hey kids, don’t put your addresses in your aol profiles--yes I’m ancient.) actually, I’ve done my share to stupid aol/online shit. it will probably come back to haunt me if i ever run for public office or marry a celebrity.

Ok, real stupid thing. I’m a severe klutz, and one time I walked off a raised cement slab (like the kind that statues would sit on) and sprained my ankle. It was probably 3 inches off the ground on the side that I got on it, but it was further off the ground on the other side, so when I got off the slab, I misjudged where to put my foot and I rolled my ankle. Ended up at the ER and they put me in a soft cast. I had to have crutches to get around campus and this one guy who I don’t even know his name, picked me up and carried me up the campus hill (we had a really big hill), and it was against my consent. I did NOT want him to pick me up. It was terrible. Anyway, I rolled my ankle by walking. I have tons of stupid shit. How much time you got?

I was also pretty pretentious when I was younger. (I might still be. I’m not as self aware as I wish to be.) I once asked an Italian friend to try my tomato sauce and asked him what was missing because it didn’t taste right. (I know. I was so gross. You learn from your own grossness though.)

What other stupidity? I fawned over boys. My bff gave me a copy of The Giving Tree in college (I had never read it before) as a metaphor of how much of myself I gave to this toxic dude. I sobbed reading it for the first time.

In hindsight, not getting my license at 17 was a pretty stupid move too. But that also had to do with life circumstances.

OH. Turning down an interview for an internship with my dream company at the time, because I had already accepted an internship position with another company.

Trying to explain to my MBA ethics class how my industry worked only to get it mansplained back to me (pretty stupid of me to have tried in the first place).

Going for my MBA was also a pretty stupid move in the holistic view of my life.

12.  Have you accomplished your New Year’s Resolution for 2018? I honestly don’t remember if I even made resolutions, so I’m going to say hard no.

13.  If you could get any degree from any school, free of charge, what would you pick? Criminal Psychology. Ceno, we can go to school together! (this reminds me I need to catch up on last week’s Criminal Minds) Another option would be anything in the forensics sciences. I would also like to learn massage therapy. And I want to take that artisan bread breaking course at the Institute of Culinary Education.

I forget how many people I’m supposed to tag. @katiekeysburg @daisyjm75 @steverogersnotebook

#personal #long post #tagged #this was fun #if only to explain my love of thanksgiving

[kriskebob-blog]

Day 4: Rainy Saturdays are for cooking (and Netflix)

Hi all. As I write this, it’s the winding down of a gorgeous (and HOT) sunny Sunday here in CT but when I woke up yesterday, I actually thought it still had to be 6am or earlier because it was so dark in our room. Turns out it was actually 8:30am and just pouring buckets outside. Good day to stay inside and cook some comfort food items. 

My second breakfast recipe from Dr. G’s cookbook was definitely simpler than the burrito bake: French toast with a berry drizzle. I also wanted to make a fruit compote for an extra topping. The cookbook’s recipe is titled as a pear compote, but pears are out of season right now, and honestly why would you put a few sad-looking Bartletts in your grocery basket when there are farmstand peaches just up the road? To my delight, when I flipped open the cookbook on Saturday morning I read a line I hadn’t noticed before: you could vary it up by using apples, peaches, or plums in place of the pears. Perfect! 

Sam was still sleeping (he tends to be a bit more of a late riser compared to me on most days). I enjoyed the solitude for a bit and diced up four peaches as I listened to the rain. The compote was honestly super easy to throw together once the peaches were chopped. I threw them in a pot with some water, blended lemon, raisins, date sugar, vanilla extract, and some spices. I left that to simmer while I prepped the plant-based version of a dipping mixture for the toast. And in case you’re wondering, no, I did NOT find salt-free bread at the grocery store. I found the whole wheat bread that had the lowest amount of sugar/sodium and least amount of funky-sounding ingredients on the label and called it a day. (As an aside, Sam had thought he’d be required to give up toast completely during these two weeks and was really excited when he came home on Friday and saw a loaf of bread sitting on the counter, it was kind of cute.)   

I had to make my own almond milk for the French toast dipping mixture. Dr. G. doesn’t approve of store-brought almond milk, too many chemicals or whatever. Not a whole food! Luckily, I already had almond butter from my first grocery shopping extravaganza of the week. All you had to do by Dr. G’s standard was blend a couple tablespoons of almond butter with some water and ta-da, you’ve got almond milk that’s apparently less likely to kill you. For the French toast, Dr. G. instructed that I needed to mix some ground flaxseed with a bit of warm water and then add it in with the almond milk. More date sugar, vanilla extract, a bit of turmeric and cinnamon, and boom. 

Sam was awake by now and I immediately put him on toasting duty. He’s become the defacto breakfast-cooking king in our household over the past 5 years, which is odd really when he’s less the morning person of the two of us. But he genuinely enjoys whipping up eggs, bacon, French toast, etc. on the weekends, and I’ve certainly never been about to stop him. He got out our griddle and began dipping the bread while I set about making the “berry drizzle.” Dr. G advised I use this as a condiment for the French toast in place of maple syrup. It has two ingredients: 1 cup of fresh or frozen berries and a couple of tablespoons of date syrup. 

The date syrup became yet another case of my assuming I’d be able to throw together a Dr. G. sauce or condiment quickly in my blender, only to discover I actually needed to soak a key ingredient in hot water for an hour or more. Oops. Oh well. I’d use a tablespoon of agave nectar in its place and that would just have to do. 

Here’s the berry drizzle in a super cute pitcher our family friend Kelly gave us as an engagement gift years ago:

Adorable, right? Ignore whatever that spot is on our table. Anywho, I can report that Sam didn’t love toasting the bread on our griddle without using any oil spray. The slices did stick a little but we salvaged most of it. The peach compote had reduced nicely by then and we were in business. 

It was super delicious. The peach compote is definitely what made the dish, although the berry drizzle was tasty as well. Both were made with local and in-season fruit so it’s pretty hard to go wrong there. 

Sam and I settled in for a lazy morning of Netflix (we’re watching Stranger Things - second watch for me, first time for Sam!). By 11 I had to admit to myself that I really needed to get my ass to the gym, even though it was still miserable outside. I moaned and groaned at Sam (he had gone the night before and wouldn’t be accompanying me) but eventually got my ass into gear. I was curious: I’ve been eating plant-based for, you know, a whole two and a half days now. Would I have more energy at the gym? Would I just be able to sense the power of a thousand vegetables coursing through my veins on the treadmill? 

The answer: NOPE. I actually felt a bit more winded than usual which, of course, set off an anxiety thought spiral in my brain. Damn it. Maybe this diet isn’t actually good for me. Am I not getting enough protein? People always harass vegans about their protein, maybe it’s a legitimate concern! 

I made it through my workout perfectly fine, though, just a little more tired than usual. I trudged home and showered, and then Sam and I had leftover spinach-mushroom burritos and salad for lunch. The weather still sucked and we didn’t have any plans, so we watched some more Netflix but eventually split up to do our own things. I wanted to read more of Dr. G’s How Not to Die book. It was a huge book, after all, and the clock was ticking on my library loan. I settled in but was having some trouble focusing. I just felt tired. Again I had the thought that maybe this diet wasn’t actually for me. That I wasn’t getting enough or x or y since making this switch a few days ago. I stood up and eyed our pantry shelves. I grabbed a handful of sunflower seeds and ate them, but that didn’t feel quite satisfying (go figure). I noticed the giant container of unsalted roasted almonds I’d bought the day before and decided to take the plunge and open them up. I’m used to eating nuts from those giant mixed nuts containers you get at the grocery store, the ones where even the “33% LESS sodium!!!” version is still salty as hell. So I wasn’t sure what to expect exactly when I tried these unsalted almonds, but I was pleasantly surprised to realize that I actually like the taste of almonds when it’s not completely masked by salt. I grabbed a handful and then went to the fridge and got a handful of blueberries. They tasted amazing together. I happily settled back into my chair and felt myself perking up like a wilted plant that had been watered. By the time Sam came upstairs maybe half an hour later, the clouds had lifted outside and in my brain. We went for a walk. I suddenly felt more energetic than I’d felt all day. Maybe it had just been the dreary weather bringing me down. 

We returned home and decided that for the first time, we would try the Monster expansion pack of our beloved Harry Potter tabletop game. It took a long time just to set it up and try to figure out all of the new rules. We then decided to get dinner prepped because it would need some simmering time on the stove: it was gumbo night, y’all! I was excited because I love the flavor profile of Cajun/Creole cuisine. It was pretty easy to prep. Some chopped onion, bell pepper, celery, and garlic went into our Dutch oven with one cup of the homemade veggie broth I’d made the other day. I quickly thawed out the frozen okra in a separate small saucepot and eventually that went into the Dutch oven too with some diced tomatoes (BPA-free, thank you very much~), diced zucchini, and lots of delicious seasoning. We then added quite a bit of broth - everything that was left of the batch I’d made. It was a really nice, thick broth since I had pulverized all of the veggies the water had steeped in. We brought everything to a boil, threw in a can of red kidney beans (not BPA-free, alas), and simmered the gumbo for about half an hour. When it was done, we served it over brown rice, per Dr. G’s suggestion. 

Here’s a little pot action before we added in all of the broth and the beans:

And here’s the finished product:

The verdict?? SO GOOD! I loved it and actually got seconds. Sam liked it too; I don’t think he loved it quite as much as I did but then I’ve always been a bigger lover of Cajun food. Dr. G. claims his recipe makes four 1.25 cup servings, but it honestly made WAY more than that for us. I feel like his math was off... like, he accounted for the 6 cups of broth but not the fact that there were a ton of veggies and beans added in to the pot as well?? Not to mention the brown rice. But I’m not complaining, because I love the way it turned out, and it’ll be lunch for the next couple of days now. Oh, and I did salt the veggies a little bit when they were first steaming in the Dutch oven, and our Cajun-free seasoning was definitely NOT salt-free (salt is actually the first ingredient, lawl ¯\_(ツ)_/¯), so I’m sure that helped a bit. 

I think that’s really all there is to report! Other than the fact that we went back to our Harry Potter game after dinner and failed miserably. The creatures/villains completely murdered us on round 1. Oh well. Another day maybe... 

Cheers to what I think might be my shortest blog post yet. See you tomorrow! 

Gadget rec of the day: an electric griddle! We use it almost every weekend. Definitely had to wipe a trace coating of bacon grease from it today though... It’s a lifesaver for us especially since we have such a lousy stove. 

Music rec of the day: (Nothing But) Flowers by the Talking Heads

#food #foodblog #foodblogging #veganfood #plantbased #wholefoods #eatingplants