#Hassle free menu

[indischwindisch]

The Spontaneous Guests Menu

This menu is designed for occasions when you are having guests on short notice or when you do not have much time to cook or prep. It comes together in an hour or two, but will still give your guests the impression as if you have spent hours in the kitchen

This menu is designed for occasions when you are having guests on short notice or when you do not have much time to cook or prep. It comes together in an hour or two, but will still give your guests the impression as if you have spent hours in the kitchen. The items on this menu are classic north-Indian dishes. However, there are a few shortcuts and tricks to make the cooking hassle free and…

[goldensunset]

i don't really know how to word this but like i feel like i'm gonna forever have to deal with the pain and heartache of one of my very first pokémon games- the first 'normal' pokémon game i've ever played, that i will have lasting nostalgia and love for as a result of it being formative to my introduction into the series- being the one that will forever be looked down upon for bad graphics and technical issues as a result of the game having been rushed

like i honest to goodness want to scream and yell and cry into the void about how this means everything to me and will always be one of my fave games just in general. but how am i gonna do that without someone being like 'the broken overpriced mess? the one that's missing all this stuff from the older games that was great? the thing with all the cringe? that one?' or whatever. and the thing is they aren't wrong for their criticisms either like i know the fact that they rushed this wonderful game hardcore is a massive stain on its reputation and it hurts me too but like i cannot turn off the brain full of love in me and be a mean critic. or even an impartial one. i mean i criticize everything i love don't get me wrong i am constantly running my mouth about what i like and don't like. but at the end of the day i approach all media with an unusually optimistic mindset. if you see me talk a ton about something no matter what i'm saying you can bet it means i love it.

just. aaagh. it's always tough being a new fan of an old series. i'm like too embarrassed to express my opinions bc i feel like they're invalid y'know? i feel so exhausted every time i see something to the effect of like 'oh those poor kids these days having to deal with such bad quality everything what a bad time to be a fan of pokémon wow y'all make me feel so old' well see the thing is i actually am thriving and i love it here. and i'm also an adult myself so i have more critical thinking skills than people who played red when they were like five years old did. and even with the power of critical thinking i manage to be in love with this. join me in marvelling at the beauty of life

[honoredalone]

. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁ 𝐒𝐔𝐆𝐀𝐑, 𝐁𝐀𝐁𝐘?

sugar daddy, 𝐆𝐎𝐉𝐎 𝐒𝐀𝐓𝐎𝐑𝐔 who takes you out 6 days of the week and the 7th sends you five grand and a driver to take you to the spa. get your nails done, a facial, hair, massage, sauna, hot tub, everything the facility has to offer he makes sure you get.

sugar daddy, 𝐆𝐎𝐉𝐎 𝐒𝐀𝐓𝐎𝐑𝐔 who rents out the entire mall so you can go on a hassle free shopping spree. he loves examining what you pick out, what makes your eyes light up and most importantly what you dislike. you often tell him that he’s doing too much or that you’d just be happy with a small trip to target but he has to show out for his favorite girl.

sugar daddy, 𝐆𝐎𝐉𝐎 𝐒𝐀𝐓𝐎𝐑𝐔 who always sends breakfast, lunch and dinner to your beautiful loft apartment that overlooks the cherry blossom trees when in bloom. if he can’t be there to eat with you he has to be sure that you have proper meals accessible to you.

sugar daddy, 𝐆𝐎𝐉𝐎 𝐒𝐀𝐓𝐎𝐑𝐔 who had his driver drop off a stunning ivory silk dior dress with a cute but vague note. ‘be ready in an hour thirty, dove :)’ so of course you got ready as fast as you could, new makeup and hair products all over your desk courtesy of satoru. ready in an hour, hobbling outside in your ysl high heels, door opened by the doorman and rushing to the restaurant.

sugar daddy, 𝐆𝐎𝐉𝐎 𝐒𝐀𝐓𝐎𝐑𝐔 who’s hands were clammy and cold. his whole body was tingling with anticipation. never had he ever been this nervous for a date that isn’t an official date. he’s dressed in his best clothes, crisp periwinkle button up sitting prettily on his strong broad shoulders, black dress pants to match his dress shoes, accompanied by the black leather belt snaking his slutty waist.

sugar daddy, 𝐆𝐎𝐉𝐎 𝐒𝐀𝐓𝐎𝐑𝐔 who’s eyes fell out of his head when he saw you walk through the doors of the michelin star restaurant. the ivory color popping against your radiant skin, the slit in the fabric showing off your flawlessly gorgeous legs, your face looking even more unreal than always and your hair surrounding you in an intoxicating aura. he swears he died and went to heaven’s fucking heaven.

sugar daddy, 𝐆𝐎𝐉𝐎 𝐒𝐀𝐓𝐎𝐑𝐔 who could barely register what was on the menu because he was so lost in your words, mesmerized by the way your lips move, the sparkle in your eyes and the subtle rise and fall of your chest.

sugar daddy, 𝐆𝐎𝐉𝐎 𝐒𝐀𝐓𝐎𝐑𝐔 who buys you three full desserts due to your indecisiveness but of course, with his sweet tooth, he eats most of them.

sugar daddy, 𝐆𝐎𝐉𝐎 𝐒𝐀𝐓𝐎𝐑𝐔 who insists on taking you home in his stunning new mclaren p1. the city lights shining on your hair, the beautiful diamonds that covered your collarbone and the gloss on your plump lips making his cock strain his pants.

sugar daddy, 𝐆𝐎𝐉𝐎 𝐒𝐀𝐓𝐎𝐑𝐔 who’s neck hairs stand up when you ask him to come up to your apartment, he rubs the sweat of his palms onto his expensive pants. his heart jumped out of his throat when you laced your fingers with his to the venture up to your home.

sugar daddy, 𝐆𝐎𝐉𝐎 𝐒𝐀𝐓𝐎𝐑𝐔 who makes you both a cocktail sweeter than honeycomb while you put your feet up on the cloudy couch. he grunts setting down the pretty drinks on the coffee table, resting your feet on his lap skillfully kneading the soreness out.

sugar daddy, 𝐆𝐎𝐉𝐎 𝐒𝐀𝐓𝐎𝐑𝐔 who talks to you so sweetly, his voice gentle and serene, his words kind and warm. he tells you about his work, his friends. he asks you about your day, your friends though you spend almost all of your time with him, your cute waitress job that you insisted on keeping though he told you he could take care of you fully.

sugar daddy, 𝐆𝐎𝐉𝐎 𝐒𝐀𝐓𝐎𝐑𝐔 who’s thoughts raced when he runs his hands up from your feet to massaging your calves but with your legs now higher, resting on his right shoulder, he caught a glance of your panties that he had bought for you. a pretty lace sky blue thong sitting teasingly on your body, his mouth is nearly watering and eyes trained on your clothed core.

sugar daddy, 𝐆𝐎𝐉𝐎 𝐒𝐀𝐓𝐎𝐑𝐔 who can’t find it in himself to hold back anymore.

sugar daddy, 𝐆𝐎𝐉𝐎 𝐒𝐀𝐓𝐎𝐑𝐔 can’t find an ounce of self control once he’s inside of you.

it’s the way your pussy squeezing around each vein, how warm and wet you are, the right clench of your pretty walls and the heavenly noises that fall from your pillowy lips.

“feels ngh— feel so fucking good, dove. fuck.” his words tickle the shell of your ear, making you shiver and suck his cock in deeper making a low, primal chuckle vibrate in your head down to your sweet core. “greedy girl. love my cock huh?” he plowed in and out of you like a rabbit desperately trying to survive, his hands either on your waist, hoisting up your legs to rest on his sculpted shoulders or cradling your pretty little head.

“t-toru, please.” you cried, his large cock pressing against your tummy making it bulge when he was fully sheathed inside of you. positioning you with your waist higher, shoving a pillow under your lower back he stuffs himself back in, grinding his pubic bone down on your swollen clit. “do that, do that again. please, baby.”

he continues his assault on your needy cunt, grunts and groans turning into whines and slutty moans. his tip pressing against your cervix just begging to release into your needing womb. twists and turns of his hips have your toes curling, words of candied praise make your heart speed and his kisses digging into your sensitive skin. his powdered lats decorated in angry red scratches and his long neck is polka dotted in purple hickeys. he loves this, your arrangement, you.

he loves the way you speak to him. he loves the way you have taught him to live his life the way that he never thought he deserved. he loves the way you hold him on the nights he needs more than just sugar. he loves the way this has gone beyond just the money and the sexual desire, the way you’ve really become his and he yours. that’s all he can think of.

love, love, love. and you.

“love you. i—i love you, dove. augh, fuuuuck!” he pathetically released inside of you without warning. he felt like a teenager having sex for the first time but only this was better, so much better. “sorry, i’m sorry, baby. jus’ lemme make it up to you, yeah?” he tangled his tongue with yours for a couple seconds, his lips search down your body. latching to your perky sweet nipples, index and thumbs playing with the nipple that lacked his rosy lips circling it. soon after giving your plushy tits his undivided attention he sinks down lower to suck and nibble your beaded nerves.

your pussy might as well been covered in syrup the way he was devouring you nearly whole. you ran your nails from his freshly chopped undercut to scrape against his suddenly very sore scalp drawing a thick groan from his vocal cords. his long fingers press your folds and with a wet squelch curling against the spongy spot that had you squirting all over him.

round after round, finally being worn down you held him. his nose nudging your sensitive area behind your ear, chills tickling up your spine. your arm wrapped around him, massaging up and down his muscular build and your opposite hand cradling his snowy head. satoru’s unanswered confession still hanging in the air eerily but not uncomfortably. he wonders what’s going on in your beautiful mind, what thoughts plague your brain when you can’t sleep, what you think when with him. his hands grip your hips almost possessively though there’s no one else present. he doesn’t remember when he fell in love with you but he knows that it is the purest feeling in the world.

you made love feel like freedom, it was a choice, like it was the only thing in his life he had control over, but he really didn’t. he loves you recklessly, without care though he couldn’t find it in his morals to care. those words lingering in the air stick to his body like a disgusting sweat, his limbs almost trembled in anticipation.

careless, selfish, good for nothing. horrible thoughts invaded his brain, those words glued on his conscious like chewed, discarded gum but never the less he pushes them back. his brain goes fuzzy, racing thoughts started to slow and his eyes became too heavy to fight, his grip became softer and his breathing relaxed.

“i love you too. i love you satoru.” he could barely register your words but you knew he had heard them because of the small gasp before leveled breaths replaced it.

sugar daddy, 𝐆𝐎𝐉𝐎 𝐒𝐀𝐓𝐎𝐑𝐔 who is now in the world’s most high end jewelry shop searching for the most perfect stone to embellish your beautiful ring finger while you’re currently being pampered in your hotel room getting dolled up for your extravagant date in europe.

sugar daddy, 𝐆𝐎𝐉𝐎 𝐒𝐀𝐓𝐎𝐑𝐔 who’s down on one knee, large jewel bestowed upon a velvet cushion.

sugar daddy, fiancé, 𝐆𝐎𝐉𝐎 𝐒𝐀𝐓𝐎𝐑𝐔 who stands, crystal tears cling to his waterline while you read your vows.

sugar daddy, husband, 𝐆𝐎𝐉𝐎 𝐒𝐀𝐓𝐎𝐑𝐔 who still takes you out 6 days a week and goes with you for spa days. who still rents out a mall. who spends every meal with you. who loves you like it’s his last day on earth.

please send in an ask, dm me or comment! (˶˃ ᵕ ˂˶)

also the new leaks!?!?!? i’m shocked i hate the ending so much and i imagine this is how people who hate the aot ending feel. anywho…. to what matters, gege… how, just per chance, do you plan on bringing back my beautiful blue eyed freakazoid of a man or what.. like an au..? spin off..?

thank you again my lovely readers if you made it this far <3

[heartfullofleeches]

All I could picture was Brie having never smoked before meeting Stoner Darling. So you just get

Viewer: Wait you smoke!?

Brie: *High off his ass* I do now!

Plus Brie only ever getting stoned after he met up with Darling again, so it just becomes their thing. He gives them cum laced food, they give him weed.

Brie's probably tried it once or twice at parties, but never thought about it outside of those occasions. After accidentally serving someone a pizza topped with his "secret sauce" poor boy is in need of a little medicinal relaxation.

-

"So you're a virgin, huh-"

Brie chokes on his spit.

"M-me?!"

"First time smoking? Least with another person. You used that blunt I gave you the other night, didn’t you? Lucky for you, you're in the hands of a professional. If you green out at any point I got some milk in the fridge. Does better for you than water."

A blessing. What Brie had written the worst night of his life turned out to be the best thing that ever happened to him. Who could've guessed a wrong address would lead to him to doorstep of someone like you. He's never felt this was about a crush before and he hasn't even known you long- Brie almost couldn't belive the promise of bringing more free food was all it took for an invitation into your humble abode.

On today's menu was a basket of wings and fries coupled with some ranch to dip them in. You had already cleared three of small cups in between rolling a blunt for the two of you to share. At some point, you skipped the chicken entirely in favor of scrapping your fingers around the rim of the plastic. Brie's heart nearly stopped in his chest when you asked him to bring a full container of the stuff the next time he stopped by.

Doing that kind of work for his fans had always been a hassle, but he'd do anything to see you again.

Wipping your mouth with a napkin and taking a few swigs of the water bottle on the table, you seal the roll before offering it to Brie along with a lighter. His shorts shrunk a little watching your skilled tongue flow across the paper.

"You want the first hit?"

Brie's eyes remain glued to your lips. With all he's done by now an indirect kiss shouldn't mean that much to him... Still...

"Uh... I don't mind waiting. It's your weed afterall."

"Aren't you sweet. Suit yourself."

Easing back against the couch, you place the thinner of the blunt to your lips - lighting the end as you inhale. You take a few puffs before passing it off to him. Brie breathes deep as he holds it to his mouth, though there's a different type of high he's chasing as he closes his eyes.

Looks like his fans are in for another surprise stream soon as he gets home-

[suddencolds]

insatiable appetite [1/?]

sooo... this is one of the thirstiest things i have written—and also one of the only times i've written a character with the kink, ever T.T warnings in advance for mess, character getting sneezed on, implied contagion, possible ooc-ness, & me writing this entirely with my d instead of my head

ivan and till are from al//ien sta//ge (a very fun watch which will only take 30 mins out of your life; i really recommend it!!). that said, this fic takes place in a modern au setting, so feel free to read it without any prior context :)

special thanks to @6pmsoup for sending me a very cute alnst doodle of these two which altered my brain chemistry permanently

—

Summary: Till shows up to a dinner outing with a brewing cold. Ivan suffers. (est. relationship, kink!Ivan, ~2k words)

—

For all Till tries to hide it, Ivan can tell immediately.

There’s this: Ivan has been paying attention to Till for most of his life. A full decade before they’d gotten together officially, and some more—this is how long Ivan has had to observe his tells. Always from the sidelines, always with a detached air of indifference that, in reality, was anything but.

All the signs are there the night before. Till, turning up the thermostat a couple degrees higher than he usually keeps it. Spending a little too long in the shower and using up almost all of the hot water. Clearing his throat one too many times in the morning before Ivan leaves for work, his smile distracted, the rasp of his voice nearly indistinguishable—but only nearly.

Now, Till is here for dinner—it’s a dinner they’ve had plans for a couple weeks now, at one of the nicer restaurants downtown, in celebration of Till’s recent promotion. Ivan had booked the reservation a couple weeks in advance.

When Till arrives, stepping out of a taxi cab, he’s wearing a scarf, even though the weather is too warm for it. Ivan steps up to meet him. 

“Sorry I’m late,” Till says. “Traffic here was the worst I’ve ever seen it, swear to god.”

“Was it cold outside today?” Ivan asks, a little pointedly, tilting his head towards his scarf.

Till looks at him, his expression unreadable. Then he nods. “Colder than usual, for this time of year.”

“Strange,” Ivan says, just to be difficult. “But the weather forecast says it’s the same temperature today as yesterday.” 

“It’s probably just windier today,” Till says, readjusting his scarf around his neck. His face is a little flushed.

“Your voice sounds a little off, though.”

Till clears his throat with a scowl. “You must be imagining it,” he says. “It always sounds like this.”

No admission, then. That’s fine. Ivan will get the truth out of him at some point. He lets Till guide him into the restaurant.

It’s a nice restaurant—worth the hassle of the reservation, Ivan thinks. Each table is set with flowers arranged tastefully in long glass vases, empty wine glasses turned on their heads. The server—who leads them to their table in a small, private booth—is wearing a suit.

It’s a shame, really. Ivan has a feeling that he won’t be able to pay attention to any of that tonight.

They sit. Ivan looks down at the menu, picks out something at random in a matter of seconds. Truthfully, he can hardly think of anything less worth his attention right now. He turns his attention to Till instead—Till, who’s seated directly across from him, the scarf still around his neck, obscuring the lower half of his face. 

Till sniffles, reaching down to turn the page, and oh. The sniffle is terribly liquid—has he been sniffling like that all afternoon? Perhaps it’s a good thing that they work at different offices—Till at a law firm, Ivan as a senior manager at a consulting company—because Ivan certainly doesn’t think he’d be able to get any work done with Till sniffling like that. 

It’s not two minutes later that Till is reaching up to wipe his nose against the back of one knuckle. All in all, it’s discreet. Just a quick brush of the fingers against his nose, which is still hidden under the scarf. Though, the look of sheer ticklishness that passes over his features for a brief moment there is...

“What are you thinking of ordering?” Ivan asks.

“I can’t decide,” Till answers. He turns the page again. “It’s between the ribeye steak and the… snf! The pork belly. Is this the kind of place that skimps on the portion sizes?”

“Not from their Yelp reviews,” Ivan says. “You know, if you really can’t decide, I can flip a coin.”

“I’ll pick,” Till says. “Why? Hungry already?”

He looks up, now. His eyes are a little watery. There’s a faint flush over the bridge of his nose. Ivan thinks that if he reached out and touched him, he’d probably be running warm. The thought is almost unbearable.

“Your taxi did take forever to arrive,” Ivan says, by way of explanation. 

“Did you really wait that long?”

He looks uncertain, for a moment. Ivan says, “Not at all. But you know, I’m always impatient when it comes to you.”

Till rolls his eyes, but it’s fond. “There was a meeting that ran late. I wasn’t avoiding you.”

“Is that also a part of your new position?” “I guess so, yeah.”

“I can see why they were eager to promote you, then,” Ivan says. “How productive can late afternoon meetings be, anyways?”

Till snorts. “Not that important. It definitely could have been an email instead. I was about ready to doze off.”

He sniffles again. “Okay. I think I know what I want.” The way he says know betrays the slightest hint of congestion. 

“At long last,” Ivan says, just to be a little bit of an ass. “I’ll call over the waiter.”

He flags their waiter down, waits for Till to order first.

“A spiced apple cider,” Till adds on, at the end, with the slightest of coughs. “Hot, if you can.”

That’s new, too. Till seldom orders hot drinks at restaurants, though he’ll drink tea without complaint if it’s offered. Perhaps his throat hurts, then, from the cold that has clearly started to settle in his system. Subtle, still, but Ivan is familiar with colds like this. He knows it will probably only be a few hours before this deceptively “small” cold turns into…

Ivan orders, too, and thanks the waiter, who leaves with a curt nod. When he looks back over to Till, there’s a… strange something to Till’s expression, a slight distractedness. Irritation.

Ivan swallows hard. He should look away. 

He should, but then, Till’s breath hitches. He pulls the scarf higher over his face preemptively, as if he anticipates having something to have to cover for. The sharp intake of breath that follows is breathy, though Ivan can hear Till’s voice in it. He should really look away.

Instead, he takes the scene in, painstakingly, little by little, as Till’s shoulders jerk forwards. As Till presses a hand to the scarf, presses the fabric closer to his face, to muffle a sneeze into his fingertips:

“hhH-Ih!! hiHH-’IESCHH-eew-!”

God. It sounds utterly miserable, the harsh release of it scraping against his throat, the spray tearing into his scarf. It’s the kind of cold sneeze that is undeniably telling: this is going to be one hell of a cold. It’s not very quiet, either, even muffled into the fabric.

For more reasons than one, Ivan is glad they’re in a private corner of the restaurant, not somewhere more public.

“Bless you,” he offers, once he can trust himself to speak. It’s a good thing that Till is too distracted to look up at him right now. Ivan isn’t sure he can keep what he’s feeling off of his face.

Truthfully, he isn’t sure he’s going to be able to endure a whole night of this.

The problem here is that Till—Till, of all people; Till, who Ivan has been pathetically in love with for almost as long as he can remember—has no idea about Ivan’s… relatively niche interests. That is to say, he has no idea what effect it has on Ivan when he does that.

“Thanks,” Till says, a little stuffily. He sniffles again, lowering his hand. 

Ivan can’t help it. He knows he shouldn’t pursue this line of questioning, but he can feel his self-control dwindling by the second. “Don’t you think it would be better to take off your scarf, now that we’re inside?”

Till freezes. “Y-You know what,” he says evasively. “It’s pretty cold in here.”

Ivan tilts his head in question. “And just how do you plan on eating like that?”

“I’ll take it off when our food comes.”

“I can ask the waiter to turn the temperature up, if it’s a problem,” Ivan says. 

“It’s not a problem.”

Ivan rises from his seat. Till watches him, perplexed, as he heads to the opposite side of the table, where Till is seated.

When he gets there, he stops. Stands, unmoving, so he can study Till from above. 

“What are you—”

Ivan reaches out, settles his palm across Till’s forehead. As expected, it’s warm. Not quite feverish, which is a good sign, but warm enough to be notable. 

“Just how long were you intending to hide this?”

Till stares back at him, wide-eyed. “Hide what?”

Shouldn’t it be obvious? “The fact that you have a cold.”

“I didn’t think it was worth mentioning,” Till says, slowly.

“Hmm.” Ivan drops his hand to his side. He is a little concerned, now. “We could’ve called a rain check.”

This time Till really does roll his eyes. “For the reservation we planned weeks ahead?” he sniffles again. “That just sounds completely and utterly unnecessary. Are you the type of person to call things off just over a little cold?” 

Ivan leans over, tugs down the edge of Till’s scarf. Till bats his hand away just a moment too late, cups his other hand over his face to shield his face from view. For a moment, he looks faintly mortified.

Then his expression settles into something more disgruntled. “What are you doing?” he hisses.

So uncooperative. “Let me see,” Ivan says. Slowly, gently, he pries Till’s hands away from his face, and then—because the restaurant is dimly lit—tilts Till’s face up slightly so that it catches more of the overhead light. 

Till’s nose is redder than usual. He’s probably been rubbing it all afternoon, if the redness that percolates into his cheeks is any indication. There’s  a damp, liquid sheen on the underside of his nose.

“What’s there to see?” Till says, a little crossly.

“Your face, since you’ve been so intent on hiding it under that scarf,” Ivan says, leaning in to get a better look.

Till scowls at him, but there’s no heat to it. “You see my face every day.”

“On the contrary, I don’t see it nearly enough,” Ivan says. “And you hardly ever get sick. Is it so wrong for me to be concerned?”

Without looking, he reaches behind him with one hand to grab a couple cocktail napkins. The other hand he keeps held up to Till’s cheek. 

But then, Till’s breath hitches. “Wait,” he says. Panic flashes through his face. “Ivan, move, I—”

Oh. Well, seeing as there’s no way he’ll be able to get the napkins over in time, it looks like he’ll have to improvise. If Till wants to cover, Ivan can help with that. He moves his hand to cup it loosely over Till’s mouth. Not a second too late, it seems. Till jerks forward unceremoniously, his nose twitching, his eyes squeezing shut.

“hHheh-! HHh’EIITShHh’yYiew!” he gasps sharply. Two? “Hh-! hHiiH’DSSCSSHh-IIew!”  

The jolt of the sneezes is practically electrifying—all of that force, brought to an abrupt halt behind Ivan’s waiting palm. He feels the expulsion of air against his skin, the warmth of Till’s breath, feels the slight dampness behind his hand as the spray mists over his fingertips.

Ivan swallows, hard. Thank god it’s so dark here, otherwise Till might notice what this is doing to him. 

“Bless you,” he says, withdrawing his hand at last to wipe it on one of the cloth napkins. It comes out slightly raspier than he intends it to, though perhaps it’s a miracle that he’s still able to talk at all. “Some cold, hmm?” Belatedly, he hands Till the stack of napkins.

Till practically snatches them from him, turns aside to blow his nose wetly into the top few. The way he sniffles afterwards suggests that his nose is still very much running. 

“Do you have no self preservation? It’s as if you want to catch this,” Till says, drawing back with another sniffle.

Oh, Ivan thinks, fighting back a shiver. That would be far from the worst thing.

[spacelandz]

SO! You've seen these little things I do sometimes and you want to know the process!

It's genuinely super simple, so here goes! Apologies by the way if anything is unclear or glossed over. A lot of this is personal taste and such so I hope this can be a nice boost to create something!

RESOURCES AND THINGS TO KNOW!

To preface this little guide already assumes you have basic knowledge of color distribution, lineless art, or breaking up art into proper layers for later processing! I am also assuming that your art program has access to scatter brushes and tiling textures. Personally I use Clip Studio Paint, but this can work on other apps. Anyways, here are some good sites for this:

EZGIF - Free, easy gif maker for assembling any kind of gif*! It also has stuff like converting those damn WEBP's back into png.

*PLEASE KNOW THAT YOU CANNOT MAKE GIFS THAT ARE PARTIALLY TRANSPARENT. YOU MUST USE A SOLID COLOR UNDER ANY PART THAT IS OVER BARE CANVAS

Transparent Textures - Free to use source for HQ transparent textures that tile! Amazing for finding a paper texture for these if you commit to the paper doll look. Best results for textures that are in white or black!

So! You have a finished, prepared piece that you want to glitterfy. Well I'm not covering that right now so you can scroll down to That part if you came just for the glitter. This next section is for...

PREPARING THE PAPER DOLL

To start, your piece should already be separated into respective layers in any order you'd like! We're about to use a ton of clipping masks so Make sure you know your program before starting! So, as my example we have my oc Roy, resized to around... 1500x1500 or the nearest equivalent Smaller is better because it brings out the texture! He looks a little ah...Flat, though right now?

I'm using this guy for a couple different reasons! Those being:

Roy has translucent bodyparts! Just so you will know what to do with characters who are translucent! I'll get to this in a moment so sit tight

He has a clear, defined, and distinct palette that is easy to pick a color to slap the glitter on! This is important because I personally find balance to be the most appealing part of the finished art.

He also just has a lot of doohickeys on his design.

This is where you need your transparent texture! You can use any kind of texture and I encourage experimentation and such, but I personally use a simple paper texture. What we are going to do is go through and clip our imported and tiled texture to each applicable layer! (Make sure to just Copy and Paste the layer you do NOT need to repeatedly go through this menu...)

And... When you are done, you should have something like this:

"But why don't I just clip the texture to the entire piece through a folder? Why go through the hassle of clipping to each individual layer?"

Well that's because of the next step, where we will be adding the shadows. If we don't clip each individual layer, your shadows will look like this example on the left which sort of just ruins the 3D effect and kinda just looks icky, as opposed to this, which is nicer and smoother.

Now I'm no lighting wiz! In fact I'm rather mediocre at best but some general tips for adding the shadows:

Try to keep your shadows going all in one direction mostly! It gives the effect of one light source and generally just looks better than if you shaded around ALL edges everywhere.

Try to only shade where there are parts overlapping that need the dimension! Overdoing it can make the piece look odd. It's especially helpful to separate any details like different shades of hair, layers of hair, etc so that you can put as much volume as you want.

Once the shadows are all added in you should have something that looks like this:

Which looks good! Now I'd sometimes stop here if I can't pinpoint how I'd like the glitter to sit or if I think the piece just doesn't need it, but we're moving on to the big important steps!

ADDING GLITTER

This part is entirely up to your taste! But I'll describe how I do my glitter stuff. Firstly I start out by identifying which color I want to pop out. For Roy here I chose the red parts! For your character it may be different. Experimentation is key!

This is also, however where you need that scatter brush I mentioned earlier. Personally I just use the default CSP spray brush, but again go wild!

Make a folder above your piece, set its blending mode to glow dodge (or add, or add glow depending on what options you have), and create three layers inside of this folder. Setting the folder to clip is optional right now but will be needed later.

Then, fill each glitter layer with your choice of particle in whatever color looks good! Yes, you can do gradients and other stuff on the particles too! World's your oyster.

^ Unclipped example of a glitter layer.

Glitter tips for the early 2000's webcore enthusiast:

Use different strokes and patterns for the glitter distribution! This helps it animate better by moving around. For example this time I went diagonally for the first, horizontally for the second, and then in loose circles for the third. Particle density and stuff is also completely up to you.

Use a color that would pop against the intended area! For Roy I used an orange-ish yellow since it compliments both blue and red.

So now we have the layers! This is where clipping is our best friend once again! You're just going to go in and clip the glitter to whatever layers you want it on. Entire folder, not just one of the layers!

Once that's all done, go through and toggle the respective glitter layer for the frame, saving individual copies when done. You should end up with 3 identical images with different glitter distribution.

"BUT WAIT! JONES, THE TRANSLUCENCY!!" I hear you call! Yes, this is where we handle that! If your character is NOT translucent, you can scroll past this section.

Open up your frames all in one canvas, stacked on top of eachother (no jittering or slight displacement! ON TOP of eachother!)

Our layout should look something like this...Note how the translucent parts are rather hard to see, well if you took your frames and put them in EZgif, they'd be gone entirely! That's because you physically cannot have a partially translucent gif due to technology limitations. So an easy little cleanup thing I did was:

1. SELECT THE CANVAS AROUND THE CHARACTER WITH THE MAGIC WAND TOOL. Do not have any expansion settings on or it probably won't look right in the end.

Make sure you do not miss any gaps! I personally missed the gap between the arm, leg, and lanyard and I had to redo this next step...

2. SELECT -> INVERT SELECTION

3. FILL SELECTION WITH THE DESIRED COLOR. IT MUST BE OPAQUE. I personally picked this cloudy gray color.

You can now save individual frames of your character with the fill so that they don't go bald when you move on to the next step! Again, you should have 3 frames.

FINISHING UP

This is nice and easy. Upload your three frames into EZGIF and wait for it to process. It'll look like this if you're in the right place.

Once things have loaded, make sure to change the settings to the following:

FRAME DELAY: 0 (this is how fast the frames move.)

DON'T STACK FRAMES: ENABLED

You can play around with this but I generally leave everything else alone because you don't need it. Just hit the make a gif button and you're all done!

Aaaand that's it! If you've read this far...Firstly thank you for dealing with my rambliness and horrible explanation skills. Secondly, I hope that this can come in handy for anyone interested! Would love to see if anyone puts this to use. n_n

[kvrokasaa]

Oh no, I'm falling in love

cw: not proofread, cringe, fem!reader, third person, pining, awkward talking, forced plot, death joke(?), kissing, fluff.

Aged up!Reo x fem!reader

This is based in college.

wc: 1288

"Please get out of my way." Reo stumbled as he was pushed a little by someone behind him.

He turned around, he didn't know if he was angry or if he was going to apologize. But all words left his tongue as he looked at the person who rudely interrupted his conversation with Nagi.

He swallowed thickly as he looked at her face. She had a pout, her bottom lip jutted out a little, while she carried some books. It looked like she was in a hurry, where? He didn't know. All he could think is how pretty this girl is.

She took a good look, up and down, and back at his eyes. Her eyebrows scrunched as she began to realize who he is.

"Oh, you're Nagi's friend." Reo had been called many things, but no one had ever not known is name. His last name is on most buildings, he owns so many things.

He should be angry, maybe even feel a little sting. But that isn't like Reo, he simply nods and moves out of the way.

...

Over the next few weeks, Reo has seen this girl over and over. He learned things about her, her name is Y/n, and she's a year younger than him and Nagi but she got accepted into higher grades as a kid because of her accelerated learning.

He didn't ask for these things. Nagi caught him staring ("I do not stare!" Reo said with a bright blush on his cheeks when Nagi brought it up) and told him about her.

Reo always saw how Nagi would talk to her, and usually, he would get a little jealous, but he's not jealous for Nagi, no. He's jealous of Nagi.

He would try and talk to her, but she never has the time or day for him. That's how it feels for Reo. What he doesn't understand is that Y/n is shy, she can't stop thinking about him. And she's scared that Reo would hear her heartbeat through her chest when they talk.

But as weeks turned into months, they both got a little closer. Going out for lunch when they all had free time and talking about their professor was their new normal. Everyone, not Nagi, would look forward to meeting up and talking about their week.

But when Nagi would make excuses for not coming, usually they were about how he's too tired to come, or maybe he got a new game and has to beat the highest level, it would only be Y/n and Reo.

When those times came about, only crickets could be heard. It was rare for them to talk alone, and when they tried to talk, it would be at the same time so they never tried.

Friday rolled around rather quickly this week. She was looking forward to meeting up with Nagi and Reo again, but before she could get too excited, Nagi texted her.

Nagi🥱: not coming today

Y/n: What???? Why ??

Of course Nagi would leave her on read, is it too much to text back?

"'s a hassle." She could imagine Nagi saying.

So she sucked it up and walked to the cafe where the trio always hung out. She's 90% sure Nagi already texted Reo.

But when she walks into the cafe and sees Reo's brows furrowed, she knew that this is a set-up. She should've known when Nagi said he'd help with her crush on Reo.

Awkwardly walking to the table, she smiled as she sat down.

"Nagi's not coming today, so it's just us." Reo mouthed an 'oh' as he nodded.

Both of them cleared their throat, but no sound came out afterward. This is like going to a child's band concert and all you hear in between songs are coughs and sneezes.

She wanted to laugh at the thought, but she kept her mouth closed as she decided on what to order for today.

"I- uhm, I ordered what you usually get." She looked up from the menu. He did?

She was going to thank him for his kindness, but he interrupted her.

"Why don't you like me?" She coughed as her eyes widened.

She quickly shook her head, "I don't dislike you. I just," she didn't know what to follow up with. She can't just say that she likes him, no, that she loves him.

Because at this point, her feelings stem more to love than like. She can't just say, 'I'm in love with you!'

A cough interrupted her thoughts. She looked up and saw Reo with a bright blush dusting his cheeks and the tips of his ears. "You...love me?"

"Huh?"

"I said-"

"No!" She shook her hands in the air, retracting them to her face as she hid her face. "No, I mean yes. But why? How?"

But then she realized. Fuck. She voiced her thoughts. Her and her fucking loud mouth.

She wished the ground could create a black hole and swallow her whole. She wished she could just get up and leave.

Wait, she can just get up and leave. That's exactly what she does. But as she reached the doors to the cafe, she felt a hand fall onto her shoulder.

"Don't leave, please." Reo looks desperate, like he needs to say something but he can't. "Please, just."

He takes a deep breath, trying to calm his racing heart. Why is he so nervous? Before he can delve into his thoughts any deeper, she pulls away.

Just like a cycle, he chases after her. She can't leave, not yet. He has to tell her!

"I love you!" Y/n stops walking. Did he really just shout that? What the hell!

"Damn, it feels good to finally say it," Reo mutters. He takes another deep breath, "I love you so fucking much! You-"

Before he can attract any more looks from passersby, Y/n clamps her hand over his mouth. "Reo, what the hell?!" She whisper yells

She drags him back into the cafe, sitting back down next to the table from before. "You can't just do that!"

Reo chuckles. "You did it first." She opens her mouth but quickly shuts it. Reo wants to laugh at how cute she looks.

"I don't think you get it. I love you so much. Ever since you bumped into me, I have been in love with you. Words can't explain how much I love you." He looks so desperate. Desperate to get her to understand.

"Then show me." His right brow raises, "how am I supposed to show you?"

She leans closer to him, thanking that the chairs aren't in front of another, but rather next to each other. She looks at his lips, but quickly averts her eyes back to his.

"Show me."

"I love you so much but-" Y/n quickly interrupts him.

"Yeah? Then show me," she swallowed thickly, her eyes averting from his to his lips. Her lips brushed against his, their breaths mending into one. "Show me how much you love me, Reo Mikage."

He barely let her finish her sentence before his lips engulfed hers, their passion mending into one. Reo poured every drop of love into the kiss. He didn't want to pull back, not even for much-needed air. He didn't want to let go, not yet.

He pulled her closer, his hold on her waist tightening as he held her against his chest. Closer, he needs her closer.

"Sorry to interrupt, but you need to order to stay." The waitress slaps two menus onto the small table, walking away with a huff. "highway looks nice tonight," she mutters as she walks away.

I realized while rereading the Blue Lock manga, Reo kinda looks like a red panda. His eyebrows give it away lolol

[mysecretlittlelibrary]

If He Wanted To He Would

Pairing: Loki x Reader

Word Count: 2.5k

Warnings: nothing too bad honestly reader gets stood up for a date but that's it

Genre: it's pretty much all fluff, there's a little angst but nothing much

Summary: your boyfriend is a total asshole and Loki can't stand to see you upset over it. // "If He Wanted To He Would But Thank God That He Didn't" - Johnny Orlando

***

You take one final look at yourself in the mirror in your room and give a satisfied nod at your final choice. A black dress paired with red pumps and a matching red clutch. The dress is short and flattering in all the best places. It's simple but for a dinner date with your boyfriend, you think it's the perfect look for tonight. When you leave your room and pass the common space on your way out you barely notice several of your teammates sitting in the living room until one of them whistles at you. Sam, to be exact, and your eyes snap up from your phone where you're checking the address of the restaurant you're meeting at.

"Thank you Sam." You roll your eyes with a smirk.

"Where are you going?" Tony asks.

"A date." You say casually.

"A date?" Loki snorts as he crosses from the kitchen to the living room with the others.

"Yes, a date. My boyfriend and I are finally both free at the same time so we're taking advantage of it." You say rolling your eyes at his tone.

"Well you look great!" Thor says.

"Thank you Thor."

"Have a good time y/n." Steve nods.

"That's the plan Stevie."

"Keep us updated if anything happens." Natasha tells you.

"You've got my location Nat, but I'll be fine." You chuckle finally making it to the elevator. Outside of the building you quickly hail a cab and give the driver the address to the restaurant you're going to. Usually, your boyfriend Eric would come to get you from the tower but some of the others like to give him a hard time whenever he's around so to save him the hassle tonight you told him to meet you at the restaurant instead. When you walk into the restaurant the host immediately greets you warmly.

"Hello miss welcome, do you have a reservation with us this evening?" She smiles.

"I do yes, table for two, it should be under Eric." You tell her. She taps on the screen in front of her for a moment before grabbing two menus.

"Of course, right this way miss." She says walking into the dining room. You follow her to your table and take a seat. "Someone will be with you shortly if you'd like to order a drink while you wait for the other member of your party." She says before walking off. You grab the drink menu and look at their collection of wines and cocktails, one glass, while you wait, should do just fine. Eric will likely be here before you've even finished it. When a waiter comes to your table you order a glass of red wine and inform him you're waiting for someone before you order food. You nurse that one glass of wine for much longer than you usually would as if prolonging that glass will make it feel like less time is passing than is actually passing. Eventually, one glass turns to two as the minutes tick by and you don't nurse the second one so much, resigning yourself to the fact that Eric is very late. When a half hour turns to an hour and you're on your third glass of whine you finally call Eric. At this point, you're worried something has happened to him, which is made no better by the fact that he does not answer your phone call. You leave a message, as calmly as you can, telling him you're worried and to call you back because he's extremely late for dinner. Ten minutes after calling, when your third glass of wine is very close to empty you finally receive a text from Eric.

Something came up. Won't be able to make it tonight. Sorry for the late notice.

You try to ignore the sting of tears pricking the back of your eyes as you read his words. You've been stood up, by your boyfriend. Who you haven't had a chance to spend any meaningful time with for months now. And he couldn't even be bothered to tell you before you left the house. He couldn't even be bothered to call you. The next time your waiter walks by you wave him over to your table.

"Yes miss?" He asks.

"The person I was meeting is no longer able to make it so, I'll just take the bill for the wine and be on my way." You explain.

"Of course." He nods. It only takes a few minutes for you to pay for your glasses of wine and leave the restaurant. Part of you wants to walk back to the tower, give you more time to clear your head, but three glasses of wine and five inch stilettos do not make for great walking conditions so you flag down a taxi to take you back home where you will hide in a secluded part of the tower until it's late enough for you to be seen by the others without having to admit that your boyfriend is actually a good for nothing jerk because that is not a conversation you want to have tonight. When you get to the tower you bypass the main floor assuming everyone is still hanging out there, after all it hasn't even been two hours since you left, and go up a couple more floors to where there's a balcony no one really uses. You lean against the railing and look at the bustling city below, from this high up it's much quieter but the movement never stops and no amount of height will change that.

"You're home early." A voice says behind you and you jump slightly. You turn around to find Loki leaning against the doorframe.

"You're not with everyone else." You say since we're stating the obvious it seems.

"I saw the elevator."

"What?"

"It went all the way down, and then came up here and I had a feeling I'd find you here." He says.

"Okay."

"Why are you sulking up here? Was dinner with the boyfriend that boring?" He asks walking over to lean on the railing next to you.

"I don't want to talk about this right now Loki." You mutter looking away from him.

"Oh come on, there has to be a reason you're home in under two hours, date night used to mean we wouldn't expect you home til morning." Loki nudges you slightly.

"Yeah well, that requires him to actually show up." You mumble quietly.

"What?"

"He didn't come Loki. I sat in that restaurant and waited for an hour drinking wine by myself and then after 75 minutes, he sent me a text. Something came up, he's not gonna make it, he's sorry for the late notice. Late notice he says, over an hour into our date. My boyfriend stood me up, that's why I'm home early." You sigh.

"He stood you up?! What a dick." He frowns and you scoff at his assessment. "I know he's your boyfriend but like- it's an asshole thing to do."

"I noticed thanks." You say bitterly. There's a moment of silence where Loki tries to figure out what to say.

"Right, let's go." He eventually says.

"What?" You frown.

"Let's go. You got all dressed up and you look gorgeous. You deserve to have a nice night out so if your boyfriend is too stupid to do it, I will."

"You don't have to." You shake your head.

"I know. Come on."

"Wait where are we going?" You ask.

"You'll see."

"Well, wherever you take me, make sure there's food involved because I've had 3 glasses of wine and my last meal was way too many hours ago."

"Right. Food." He laughed. "I've actually never seen you drunk I realize."

"Yeah well, the mutant thing means alcohol affects me differently plus I'm usually very particular about my consumption, I always have the correct ratio of food to drink but apparently being stood up is enough to throw off my carefulness."

"Grab my hand." Loki says. You frown at him suspiciously but he just looks at you with a smile that reminds you of the Cheshire Cat and waits for you to place your hand in his. When you eventually do the world disappears around you for a moment but before you can even react to the feeling of nothingness beneath your feet, you're heels connect with concrete again and Loki's grip tightens around yours to keep you from stumbling. You look around and immediately recognize the lights and sounds.

"An arcade?! You brought me to an arcade?" You blink at him in shock.

"Do you hate it? We can go somewhere else if-"

"No! It's... it's good. I didn't think you liked arcades." You say.

"What did I say before we left?" He asks you and you immediately know what he's asking about.

"I deserve to have a nice night out."

"Precisely and since you like this sort of thing it felt like the perfect choice."

"I just don't want you to force yourself to be here if you hate-"

"I don't hate it. Besides it's not about me. This night is about making sure you enjoy yourself in spite of your insufferable loser of a boyfriend, which, by the way, if you don't leave him I will find him myself and make him sorry he ever even thought to hurt you." Loki says.

"I don't want to think about that right now Loki." You shake your head ignoring the way his words send delightful shivers down your back. Perhaps the idea of him hurting your boyfriend shouldn't excite you, but there's something vindicating about having someone willing to fight for you when your boyfriend has become so discarding over time.

"Right, food first, these places sell pizza and chicken wings and such right? What would you like?" Loki asks scanning the arcade to figure out where food can be ordered. When he finds the restaurant side, he places a hand on the small of your back to guide you over to it. It's an unconscious gesture that he doesn't even think about when he does it, but heat crawls up your spine at the contact and you have to try not to react.

"Pizza's fine." You say when Loki looks at you once you're at the counter to order. He nods and turns to the person behind the counter.

"Three slices of pizza, and 100 game tokens." He says.

"We use game passes here and you do that yourself. Over there." The guy says pointing at a corner where three self service kiosks stand against the wall.

"Then just the pizza." Loki says.

"There's only two of us Loki, you ordered three slices." You point out.

"Yes because you've had three glasses of wine in two hours and haven't eaten since I'd guess 1 o'clock. We're trying to offset that, remember? So you'll have two slices." He explains taking the plates from the guy at the counter. He hands you one and holds the other two. "Come, let's get a game pass. Whatever that means." Loki nods his head towards the kiosks. You have to help him figure out how to actually purchase the game pass but soon you're walking around the arcade playing various games. Loki mostly follows you and watches but sometimes you manage to convince him to play a game with you too. A couple of hours of laughing and gaming later, you find one of those little photo booths nestled in a corner and you don't even let Loki protest before you're dragging him into it.

"Have you been in one of these before?" You ask him as you feed a bill into the slot of the machine.

"Of course not. Why would I ever come into a cramped box by choice?"

"You take photos in it dummy, and then it prints them out on a little film strip." You explain with a laugh.

"I don't understand the point of this."

"It's just for fun." You shrug pressing start on the machine. "Okay, there will be a count down and then it'll take a picture of us. It'll do that five times."

"Simple enough." He nods. In the first photo you simply lean your head on his shoulder with your arm wrapped around his and you smile, not noticing the way he glances at you from the choice. For the second photo, you insist he makes a silly face with you and despite rolling his eyes he puffs out his cheeks at the last second while you stick your tongue out. The third photo you forget to pose for, laughing so hard at Loki's puffed up cheeks that the camera simply snaps you like that. For the fourth photo, you hold Loki's face in your hands and give him a ridiculously stern look while he stares at you with utter confusion in his eyes. For the last photo you give Loki a kiss on the cheek before you can think better of it.

"Thank you, for this. Eric probably won't even bother to make tonight up to me so, I appreciate you doing this to cheer me up. It's the best night I've had in a while." You say to him quietly. Loki blinks at you for a moment while contemplating his response.

"If- if he wanted to be a better boyfriend, he would be a better boyfriend. You deserve, so much better than that... that boneheaded fool." Loki says, slowly, softly, like he can tell he's toeing a line that he shouldn't be. You stare at Loki for too long, the booth feels too small, you take a shaky breath and chuckle, flinging open the curtain that hides you both from the rest of the arcade.

"Who knew you could be such a softie." You joke stepping out of the photo booth. You can't stay in here with him. Loki frowns as he slides out of the booth after you.

"Y/n, I'm serious. You deserve better."

"I know, Loki. Trust me, I know. I'm going to break up with him. I just wasn't going to do it over text." You shrug.

"I think you should."

"What?"

"Do it over text. Why not? He couldn't be bothered to do more than text you after leaving you waiting in a restaurant for over an hour. He should be lucky you'll give him even that much. A text- that is all he deserves if that. I'd give him less if it were possible." Loki says. You sigh and turn to collect your photos from the booth.

"Here. These are yours." You hand him his photo strip.

"What do I do with these?"

"Whatever you'd like. Some people hang them up, some people keep them in their wallets, others have a memory box, you can trash them if you like, I- I don't know. They just- they print out two so, you get one."

"I'm not going to trash them. You look happy. In these pictures. You look... just, happy." Loki says examining the small photos in his hand. He'll hold onto them.

"I am happy. Thanks to you, thanks to this, tonight. I am happy." You say.

"I'm glad I could show you a good time." He nods. You won't say you and Loki haven't been close, because that's not entirely true. You've always had a friendly relationship, mostly filled with benevolent quips and taunts more than anything else, you may not spend a lot of time hanging out but you've always considered him a friend. Tonight you think, maybe, he's even more than that. You're not entirely sure what to do about that thought, but you don't immediately shove it away. Maybe it wouldn't be so bad... if Loki were more than your friend. 

***

[rederiswrites]

Menus, Oct. 23-30

Several people were open to seeing my menu planning, and it's something I enjoy doing well, so here we go!

Notes: My dishes can all be gluten free (they are, for us) by using gf pasta (we like Rummo brand gf noodles and Tinkyada are good too). Otherwise, we're pretty generally low carb and most things are from scratch, but typically pretty simple. Most of these rely on root vegetables or beans for their carbohydrates.

Feta tomato pasta and sausage --This was viral on Instagram a while back, and I decided to try it. Now my daughter requests it pretty often. I don't make it quite like the original--mostly, I add some zucchini, double the feta, and add a bunch of Italian seasoning. This link is pretty much the same thing. They add shallots, which does sound lovely but costs a bit extra. I cooked some sausage with the meal because I didn't want to load up on pasta, personally, as I'm still staying very low carb.

"Bowl of the Wife of Kit Carson"--modified caldo tlalpeño--Pity poor Maria Carson, whose indigenous name I can't even learn, now remembered by her husband's name. That aside, it's a family favorite. We make it with the entire can of chiles in adobo, but that's a family preference. The avocados are pretty much the vegetable in this one so uhh...have plenty. I make the rice separate, both because that way you can vary it depending on your spice tolerance and because that way the rice doesn't suck up all the soup for leftovers.

Roast whole chicken, roasted mixed root vegetables, and garlicky kale. I basted the chicken with avocado oil (expensive but healthy; feel free to sub cheaper vegetable oil), seasoned it with a Penzey's mix I like called Ozark Seasoning, and stuffed it with rosemary, onions, and garlic. The root vegetables can be whatever; mine were yellow beets (slightly less "earthy" tasting than red, which might be more appealing to some), rutabaga, and carrots. Salt, pepper, and garlic powder is enough, seasoning-wise. And the kale, I blanch and then saute with a LOT of garlic.

Garlic parmesan white beans, brussels sprouts, and Gujerati carrot salad. I've not made the beans yet; they'll be a new dish for us. Sound great, though, and I'm trying to learn more meatless dishes generally and bean dishes specifically. We like to halve or quarter our brussels sprouts, depending on size, steam them, and then eat them with sour cream. And the carrot salad is a longstanding family favorite, which I got from my well worn copy of Madhur Jaffrey's Indian Cooking. This is almost the same recipe, but I don't add cayenne, and I wouldn't use olive oil, since it has such a low smoke point. I'd use peanut or canola or something. It's not spicy or "exotic" tasting, and it's been well-received at potlucks.

Pot Roast. There's no point giving a recipe for this one; just pick one that looks good to you. Just include lots of good veggies. I like carrots, onions, potatoes, and parsnips. It's fun to add a bag of frozen pearl onions, and I like frozen peas put in at the very end of cooking.

Tuna salad. I eat it over lettuce, the others eat it as a sandwich. Dinner for a tired night. My tuna salad is made with well-drained chunk light (in water), finely diced celery, finely diced green salad olives, salt, pepper, and mayo to bind. My family really likes the olives so I go heavy and also use a little of the jar liquid as a salt stand-in.

Deviled eggs and raw veggies with hummus. Another phone-in meal, or it would be if I didn't find making deviled eggs such a hassle. We all love them, but I have some inexplicable personal antipathy for how long they take to make. ANYWAY, my deviled eggs are the bestest, and you will not think so if you eat yours southern-style with (shudder) "salad dressing" instead of mayo, or sweet relish. No, mine are made with salt, pepper, mayo, and lots of finely minced green salad olives, and topped with paprika, preferably sharp paprika.

Pork tenderloin, frozen corn, and stewed apples and quince. Aren't we just POSH? Jacob got me a quince to try at the farmer's market. It's uh...well pretty much I guess it's like a rock-hard and fairly tart apple, with the granular texture of an Asian pear. They're generally eaten cooked, which is why I decided to stew it mixed with apples. So I just sliced the apples and the quince up fine (just leave out the quince if you don't have it which you probably don't, and maybe add a dash of lemon juice instead), simmered them in a couple tablespoons of apple cider (or juice; we had cider), and threw in a teaspoon of pie seasoning, a fistful of dried cranberries (the recipe called for raisins) and very approximately a tablespoon of allulose syrup. Obviously you could just use sugar instead. I topped mine with pecans and it was so so good. Oh, and also the pork: Usually two tenderloins come in a pack of tenderloins, so I put a different seasoning on each just for fun. Various blends. Lemon pepper and Montreal Steak Seasoning are favorites, but tonight I opened an unlabeled container in the pantry and discovered that it was rosemary salt the bestie made and left here, so I mashed it up with some garlic and put that on one, and did bbq rub on the other. The frozen corn....is frozen corn. Except, you know, microwaved.

[elfqueen006]

Trash

Tags: roommates, the 80s, alcohol mention, Joseph sucks a bit in this, unrequited love, canon divergent

---

“Come on, baby, please?”

You hear Joseph’s voice in the living room as you throw on some clothes. You decide to listen in, curious. Who’s on the chopping block this time?

“Just… please send me some cash, I’ll take you out and we can have a sweet time tonight.” he said, speaking honey sweet words into the receiver. “I’ll make it worth your while. What do you say?”

You push your door open carefully so as not to make a sound, stepping out into the hallway.

“No- no, baby! Baby…” he pleaded profusely before his expression soured. “Fucking bitch!” he yelled, slamming the phone onto the hook. At the same time you shut the door and hurried out from the hallway.

“You called?”

Joseph pinched the bridge of his nose, “I said fucking bitch…”

“Oh, thought you said (Name).”

Joseph chuckles and his initial bad mood seems to be forgotten once he sees you’re carrying a wallet. “I was wondering where that was. Couldn’t find it in your jacket.” He nods to the aforementioned, hanging on the coat rack. When you moved in it had just been there. ‘Came with the room,’ your landlord said, but you thought better of that. You just assumed someone left it and brushed it off with a shrug; after all, who doesn’t like free stuff?

You raised a brow, “You went through my jacket?”

He smiles, “Of course I did.” Of course he did.

“Besides, you told me to help myself to whatever I wanted. Your food is mine, mine is yours, etcetera…” 

“I was referring to the kitchen and television, Joseph.”

You don’t even know why you were explaining that. He obviously knew, otherwise he wouldn’t be giving you that “yes I’m a bastard but don’t you wanna pinch my cheeks?” face.

“I only found sixty-two cents anyway.” he muttered.

“Did you keep it?”

“No, It wasn’t even enough for a pack of cigarettes.”

“The economy…” you said.

Joseph shrugged and flopped down on the couch, his massive weight pushing it back a bit. You wince when it hits the wall.

“Easy on the couch, you know shit here is cheap..” you said.

“So you should have no problem buying another one.” Joseph replied. He barely helped pay the rent enough as is, so why would he pitch in for the furniture? You supposed you couldn’t hold it against him though, his ex-girl over the phone was probably going to be half of this month’s rent.

He sees you throwing on your jacket and raises up slightly, “Where ya going?”

“To get a drink,” you said. The man’s eyes light up at that and he instantly hops off the couch.

“Oh, hang on! Lemme get my jacket too!”

“I’m only getting a pack of wine coolers.” you said, but Joseph was already coming back in his ratty corduroy.

“I’ll take a smidgen of anything with alcohol in it right now, let’s just go!” he then began to pull you along with him out the door.

You didn’t get wine coolers like you planned. After a lot of hassling from Joseph he convinced you to come to a small bar on the side of the wall of a building. One of the places he frequented most likely, as everyone knew him by name. The bartender regarded him with annoyance and mild amusement as he spouted some schmoozy words about his day and why he’d be late on his payment that day.

“Put it on my tab? Thanks.” Joseph said with a smile.

“Can I just have a coke?” you asked.

You heard Joseph scoff beside you, “Really? What happened to wine coolers?”

“The stuff from here is too pricey…”

“I literally come here because the shit here is cheap!” Joseph said.

“If it’s so cheap, why don’t you pay your tab on time?” The bartender said, pouring you a glass of coke.

“I just never have it when I need it!”

“When you need it, you’re spending it on booze.” You muttered into your cup.

Abruptly Joseph stood up, waving the two of you off. “Fuck the both of you…”

Sighing, you continue to nurse your drink. Then, deciding to look over the menu’s cheaper options, you decide it wouldn't be a big loss to spike your drink a bit. You hold out your cup to the bartender asking him for a shot of low quality liquor in your coke. 

Joseph is taking a while to come back from…wherever the hell he is. At first, you assumed he was going to the bathroom. You hoped he didn’t ditch you with the tab.

The bartender leaned down on the bar counter, getting eye level with you. “So, you with him?” he asked.

“Yeah but I’m not paying for his tab.” you replied simply.

“No, I mean like, is he your man?”

You scrunch your nose and you can’t tell if it’s because of the question or your drink’s sharp taste. You simply shook your head, looking elsewhere.

The bartender hums, “Do you like him?”

“Yeah… he’s nice.” A quick glance at the bartender told you he wasn’t impressed with your answer. He was clearly digging for more. Perhaps some gossip. And while that wasn’t your thing exactly, you found yourself confessing to something you didn’t think would come out of your mouth.

“I don’t date guys like Joseph.”

“What are guys like Joseph?”

“...”

Trash. Scheming, whorish, trash. Like many other bumpkins, Joseph came to the city with a dime and a dream. They often leave with nothing, get lucky, or scrape for the scraps the big dogs leave behind. He was a lost puppy that couldn’t be kept and wanted something different than what you could give him. When he didn’t want anymore he left without warning, and took to the streets.

He was cut from an imbalanced cloth; born with good looks, a big dick, and bad judgment.

But you liked him. It was hard not to, he was attractive. He was funny. And he was confident, even when he was wrong. You were pretty sure that your fascination went beyond just wanting to sleep with him. But you knew who he was and his type. He’d confessed to trying to steal from you for chrissakes.

You couldn’t say you knew the exact outcome for Joseph, seeing as he was fairly new to the city. And there were times you wanted to help him get to where he’s going. But you didn’t want to be that person who fell for a grifter, sweet talked into giving when you had enough until you had nothing. Even if there were a chance he’d want you, convince you to elope with him on a motorbike, heading to wherever the wind took you – what would you have to show for it when the man you’d rely on had no sense and not a penny to his name?

Love? 

“Well-”

“Guess who just got forty dollars easy, you bitches?” Joseph triumphantly boasted, slamming a couple of twenties with some change on the counter and sliding it towards the bartender. 

“How’d you come up with that so fast?” you asked.

Joseph smirked, “I have my ways.”

 In the next second, an older flushed man hastily pulled his pants up as he scrambled out of the bathroom; you gave an impressed nod.

“Lemme just…get that,” you swiped one of the twenties and pocketed it.

“Wh- hey! That could’ve covered half my tab!” Joseph protested.

“And now it’s covering half your rent,” you said, grinning at him.

Joseph sucked his teeth. “And here I was thinking you liked me for my smoldering personality.”

“Add on a bank account to that personality, and I might like you more than I do now.”

---

i think i'll make a part 2 to this. I originally planned for there to be smut, but I'm burnt out lowkey. I got several different drafts on the backburner.

[drpeppertummy]

u can tell ive been fuckin around with this for months bc its set before school starts😭😭😭😭😭 shoutout 2 my beloved colleague @tummyfreakoftheweek for providing input & inspiration

[mild hunger, comfortable stuffing, super tame, marianne doesnt even hassle him she is looking respectfully]

Max sighed as he looked over the diner menu. For most people, it was an overwhelming wealth of information, pages and pages of densely-packed text rattling off nearly every category in the book of greasy American cuisine, beginning with all-day breakfast and working all the way down to an appealing list of desserts. For Max, it was another reminder that the world was simply not built for people with dietary restrictions. Nearly everything on the menu threatened to grab him by the guts and shake him around like a chew toy; even the things that might not typically have gluten were almost certain to have some level of cross-contamination in a small town diner like this. The list of items that were guaranteed to be safe, nestled down in a footnote at the bottom of the page, was small and unimpressive.

"We can still go somewhere else," Keonda reminded him, noticing his discouraged expression.

"We're already here," he said with a dismissive wave of his hand. "I'll find something."

"Are you sure? There's not much there," said Helen.

"Helen, I just wanna eat and go home and go to bed. I don't wanna be out any longer than we have to."

It had been a long, sweaty, stressful day at work, as the days before students started often were. Max and Helen had been wrapped up enough with their own work, staying well past when they were supposed to, but they'd taken a couple hours before leaving to help Keonda decorate her classroom--it was a difficult enough task with two hands, but having only one made putting up posters slow going. Together, though, they'd gotten the place looking sharp. Tired and hungry, they'd all decided that nobody wanted to go home and cook, and that they'd run out to the nearest restaurant for a quick dinner before going home and promptly collapsing. Keonda had offered to treat them for their help. Max had every intention of swiping the bill before she could take it.

By the time the waitress came to greet them, Max had noncommittally decided on flounder. Just broiled; he fondly recalled enjoying fried flounder many years ago, but he couldn't have that anymore unless he made it himself, and rarely did he have the desire to go to the trouble of making such a mess. In fact, in the twenty years since his celiac diagnosis, he could only recall having made it once. Broiled was a poor substitute, and he wasn't particularly enthusiastic about the bland-sounding meal, but it was what it was. He was beyond exhausted, and he'd have eaten the placemat if it meant filling his empty stomach and getting home quickly.

"Well, aren't you all a lively-lookin' bunch," the waitress teased with a friendly smile. She turned her gaze toward Keonda, lifting up her notepad. "What're we having tonight, cutie pie?"

Keonda, ever the avid breakfast fan, ordered a stack of blueberry pancakes with fresh fruit and home fries, and Helen, more in a savory mood, went with an open-faced roast beef sandwich with steak fries and a side of vegetables. Max, the hungriest he'd been all week and more aware of it than usual, felt more and more unenthused about his flounder as he listened to his colleagues order, but he didn't have the brainpower to rethink his choice. He also didn't have the time--before he knew it, the waitress' warm, piercing eyes were upon him, an expectant, almost hungry-looking smile on her face.

"Can I have, um, the broiled flounder?" He looked up, then back at the menu. "Uh, the gluten free one," he added, knowing broiled flounder was likely elsewhere on the menu and uncertain if they were the same.

"You got it, handsome," she said, jotting it down on her notepad. He blushed, and Keonda stifled a giggle. "How about your sides?"

Max's brain went blank. He'd forgotten about sides. He quickly glanced back at the gluten free section of the menu, but no sides were listed. He flipped to the back page and scanned over the list of sides. None of them were marked gluten free. He supposed the steamed vegetables might be safe, but he'd learned by now not to trust an assumption. He could ask, but the idea of prolonging the visit any further made him want to crumple to the floor.

"Ah… Can I just, uh, do it without sides?" he stammered, looking back up. The waitress--Marianne, her nametag said--looked concerned.

"No sides? Oh, honey, I know that little piece of flounder isn't gonna fill you up. Don't think I didn't hear your tummy growling when you came in!"

"It's fine, I just--if it's no trouble, I'd rather just leave them off," he insisted reluctantly. Marianne considered that for a moment, and then it clicked.

"You're worried about the ingredients," she said. He nodded sheepishly. "Y'know, sweetpea, I've got a cousin who can't have gluten," she explained. "I know she goes through an awful lot of hassle makin' sure everything's safe. Tell you what--you pick any side you like, and I'll personally make sure they don't add anything you can't have."

"Oh, really, it's fine," he began, but she waved her hand.

"Come on, now. No trouble. You three are just about the only people in here, after all. There's not much goin' on in the kitchen tonight. Why, I think I saw the cooks sitting around playin' poker just a minute ago. Now, is gluten the only thing?"

Max was skeptical, but Marianne was insistent, and with her sympathy for her gluten intolerant cousin, he supposed he was willing to trust her word. He gave in and ordered broccoli and a baked potato--they seemed like safe enough options even if the friendly waitress were to let him down, although, for some reason, he had an odd, uncharacteristic faith in her. She began to turn away, then paused, looking back down at him.

"Y'know, pumpkin, nobody likes plain old flounder unless it's fried up in breadcrumbs," she said, a sympathetic smile on her face. "Maybe we could find a way to liven it up for you, cutie pie, hm? How's that sound?" Max tried to decline--he hated the idea of anybody making more of a fuss over him than was absolutely necessary--but, with a charming smile and the argument that the cooks were just dying for something interesting to do, she won him over. He supposed, after all, that the risk of cross-contamination was low enough if they were the only ones ordering, and something about Marianne was alluring and persuasive enough to wriggle through the cracks of his untrusting shell. He just hoped, as he watched her walk away, that he wouldn't regret letting her talk him into it.

"Handsome," Keonda teased, reaching across the table to poke him with her straw. Helen broke out into laughter, and Max gave them both a look of playful irritation.

"Well, I am," he said defensively, hand on his hip.

"She likes you," Helen chuckled, giving him a playful pinch on the side. "You see the way she was eyeballing you?"

"Oh, shut up." He swatted her hand away and she tousled his hair roughly. He had, of course, noticed Marianne's striking fondness toward himself in particular--it would have been impossible not to--but he chalked it up partially to her concern about his dietary restrictions and partially to the typical friendly demeanor of the average diner waitress. Her friendliness had lifted his spirits a little, though. Right now he didn't mind the idea of spending a little time at the diner; the rush to get home had eased up, and although he was still apprehensive about what the overly-eager waitress had in store for him, he was looking forward to dinner.

The three got to chatting, the energy coming back to them now that they'd had a moment to sit and catch their breaths after the long day. They talked about the coming school year and all the things they still had to do, plans they were looking forward to and silly things they had to complain about, laughing and joking and poking gentle fun at each other until finally Marianne returned with a tray of dishes.

"Alright," she said, setting the first plate down in front of Keonda. "Pancakes for this little cutie pie, here's your sides… Roast beef for the fine lady over here… And the flounder for this skinny little sweetheart," she beamed, setting down a steaming plate before Max. "Now, I don't know if it'll hold up to our usual, but I had them fry it up in cornstarch for you--in clean oil, don't you worry. I double checked everything, nothing on the broccoli but salt, pepper, and garlic, and the flounder has a little garlic powder and onion powder in the breading. That alright?"

"That's--absolutely," he said, eyes darting between her and the plate. "I really appreciate it, really. It looks fantastic." He wasn't lying; the fish looked delicious, and it smelled just as good.

"You'll have to let me know how it is," she said with a wink. "Maybe we can give that little gluten free section a makeover. Get it looking just as good as you, hm?" She gave him a friendly pat on the shoulder and left him blushing as she walked away.

"She's barking up the wrong tree," Helen snorted, elbowing Max.

"Maybe it's you she's after, huh? 'Fine lady,'" he teased. "Don't know where she got that from."

"Shut up and eat your fish," she said, giving him a playful shove. She didn't have to tell him twice. His belly had been rumbling since they left work, and Keonda had already dug into her pancakes while they were bickering. After keeping his empty stomach waiting all day, he gladly picked up his fork and broke off a bite of the flounder. It was light and crispy and flavorful, and still strikingly hot.

"How's your flounder, handsome?"

"Hot," he said, covering his mouth as he spoke around the steaming mouthful of fish. He gave a thumbs up with his other hand. That molten first bite was difficult to swallow, but his stomach greeted it with open arms. He nearly went straight in for another bite, but, deciding it needed to cool for a moment, turned to his broccoli instead. It pleasantly surprised him; he was expecting the typical bland steam job diners typically gave their vegetables, but the light seasoning was enough to bring some life into it. The flounder was the real star, though, and it barely had time to let out any steam before Max was flaking off another piece.

"How are you gonna gripe all day when you burn your tongue off?" asked Helen, amused by his clear discomfort. Max simply waved his hand at her, and she laughed. Though he was still exhausted and sore, he felt better already, rejuvenated by a mixture of good food, friendly moods, and having had the chance to relax for a minute. His stomach was no longer aching with hunger, and he didn't feel half as irritable as he had twenty minutes ago. As he scooped up a forkful of baked potato, he thought he might even survive the next day.

The conversation died down as the three friends ate, focused on filling their empty stomachs. Marianne smiled as she approached the table. There was little she enjoyed more than the sight of somebody enjoying a good meal, and a quiet table was a sure sign of satisfaction.

"Sounds like we're enjoying ourselves over here," she said, a bright, friendly smile on her face. "How'd everything come out? Good?" This was met with a unanimous chitter of approval and a couple of thumbs ups, and she clasped her hands together, pleased with the response.

"Fantastic," she beamed. "How's your flounder, honeybunch? Better than broiled?"

"Absolutely," Max nodded.

"Oh, good! I'd have hated to see you leave unsatisfied. You go ahead and eat up now--especially you, cutie pie, you look like you could use a couple of good meals in you," she teased, winking at Max. She wasn't wrong; Max didn't eat nearly enough in his day to day life, his schedule and appetite both bogged down by work and anxiety and plenty of other factors. He'd been doing better since losing his single status, but he had a good long way to go on the road to self care. He blushed and gave her a sheepish smile, and she was on her way.

It wasn't long before Max felt comfortably full--not stuffed by a long shot, but content enough to take the rest home--but Helen and Keonda were both still eating, and, knowing the crispy coating on the fish would be best while it was fresh, he made the uncharacteristic decision to eat a little more. He had no intention of overdoing it; the last thing he needed to spice up these busy days was a bellyache. He supposed it wouldn't hurt to fall asleep on a well-stuffed tummy, though. Maybe he'd even sleep more soundly than usual. That was an alluring thought. Taking care not to eat too quickly, he scooped up another bite of potato.

Marianne watched the trio as she wiped down the counter. She was particularly taken with Max. She'd have loved to take him home and put a few pounds on him, though he struck her as a man who already had somebody to be loyal to. That wouldn't stop her from enjoying him for the evening, though, and she was pleased to see him eating his fill. He certainly looked like he could use it. As she watched him, wishing she could feed him a nice hearty meal every night, she wondered whether he'd be able to eat any of their desserts.

Max was beginning to fill up now, a warm, gentle tautness beginning to bloom in his belly. By this point, though, there wasn't quite enough of his dinner left to take home. He considered it, wondering whether it might make a good snack; it wasn't enough for a full meal, even for his tiny appetite. Had Keonda and Helen been ready to go, he would've just brought the rest home. They weren't, though, and, not wanting to sit around making things awkward, he kept going.

He was no stranger to the feeling of his belt tightening around his middle, but that familiar sensation coming from a good meal rather than an upset tummy was a nice change of pace. Despite its fried coating, the flounder was light, not too oily or rich, and while he was beginning to inch past his typical threshold for full, he didn't feel uncomfortable at all. As a matter of fact, the warm pressure in his belly was pleasant. Still, he was running out of space, and, inevitably, slowing down. He paused for a moment, resting a hand on his belly. It was rounder than he expected, and he glanced down, surprised.

"I didn't think you could get that much in there," Helen chuckled, giving his tummy a playful nudge.

"Me either," he said. Restaurant portion sizes were typically a lot more than Max's stomach could hold, and it was rare for him to clean more than half of his plate. Right now, though, only a small fraction of his dinner remained, and he was considering trying to finish it. If it hadn't been enough to take home when he first felt full, it certainly wasn't now; it would be a light snack even for him. Of course, it didn't seem like a light snack at the moment. On top of his already full tummy, it seemed like a lot. Still, he felt like he might just be able to squeeze it in. He waited a moment longer, giving his stomach a second to settle, and picked up his fork again.

The last few bites went down slowly, and Marianne relished them from across the diner. Max was a scrawny thing, but she could see the slight curve of his full tummy pushing out against his shirt. She could tell he was stuffed by the way he ate cautiously, hesitating between small bites, clearly not wanting to push his stomach too far too fast. She watched as he held a tentative hand against his stomach, trying to judge whether he could fit one last bite. To her pleasure, he went for it, then sat back with a sigh, looking sleepy.

"Well, good job, sweetheart, I didn't think you'd eat the whole thing!" Marianne gave Max a grin of approval as she approached the table. "You don't look like you could fit another bite, but is anybody feeling dessert?"

"I might get something to go," said Keonda. Helen nodded in agreement. Max looked apprehensive. He remembered passing by the counter when they came in, boasting a wide array of cakes and pies, but he didn't have high hopes for any of them being gluten free, and when his turn came around after Helen and Keonda ordered, he simply declined. Marianne went to get the two desserts without a fuss, and that was just fine with him. When she returned with three boxes, however, he was confused.

"I thought you might want a little something sweet afterwards, and I didn't want you leaving empty-handed," she explained, "so I had one of the girls run across the street and pick this up for you just in case. I don't know how much you like chocolate, but it was the only gluten free thing they had left."

"Oh, gosh," Max exclaimed, both touched and embarrassed. "You didn't have to do that."

"I won't have anybody leaving underfed on my watch," she insisted with a dismissive wave. "Besides, you look like you could use a little extra sugar--not that you aren't sweet enough as it is, of course."

Max successfully took the bill before Keonda had a chance and was promptly met with a playful smack. The three left the diner in good spirits, a stark contrast to the irritable, exhausted group who had gone in about an hour ago, and as they said their goodbyes for the evening, there was a certain optimism in the air that the coming days wouldn't be so difficult. Max thought about Marianne as he drove home, the slice of gluten free chocolate cake sitting safely in the passenger seat and the seatbelt gently hugging his rounded belly. In the past twenty years of his life, he couldn't recall ever having such an enthusiastically accommodating server. The surprise dessert had made his week, and that flounder had been the best meal he'd had in a while. He felt thoroughly content, tummy happily digesting the big dinner, and, after sneaking just one bite of the cake before putting it in the fridge, he slept well that night, better than he had in days.

[mdhwrites]

Zenless Uses Mechanical Pacing/Styling Like Red Dead 2 Used Animation Speed

I think something a lot of people agree with about ZZZ is that it feels cozy. That it feels like a place you'd want to hang out at. That you want to try hitting up Godfinger, or get to watch Mr. Chop at work first hand too, etc. like that. I would argue this is far and away more true than even with a lot of other gacha games... But why? Nothing ZZZ does is revolutionary after all so what allows it to cultivate this vibe?

It is in the pacing of everything. The fact that when you spend too much time grinding for materials, it kicks you out so your MC can take a nap. How a cutscene plays when you get coffee or a bowl of noodles. How instead of just going to a menu to access this stuff like with HSR's assignments, you have to go back to your own video store, talk to your Bangboo and assign them not to nebulous tasks but to making sure your business gets promoted. There is a flavor and texture to these things that is actually built of inconvenience that makes it not quite feel like real life but how one imagines real life in an anime world would be like. More fun, vibrant and exciting but you still do have to wait for your coffee to finish getting made.

Red Dead Redemption 2 is famous for doing something similar to this with its animations. So as to immerse you in its vibe, it makes everything take FOREVER. Not literally be the amount it would take in real life but evocative of that work. However, friction there adds weight to all of your actions. Adds to understanding the labors of Arthur Morgan. It is not meant to be cozy but at best cathartic, at worst like a proper day's work. That doesn't quite line up with ZZZ's goals, does it?

That's where the small touches come into play. You stay up all night gaming at the arcade? Hey, they have complimentary breakfast and free rooms for you to crash in. Your noodles aren't done in a regular manor but by an over the top demon man with mechanical arms. Even more purely mechanical, more numbers intensive things like crunching down equipment and making new ones is done in a music parlor where you listen to records on vinyl. What it evokes the most with all of this is the Gathering Hubs of Monster Hunter. The grand orchestration of the cat chefs, the endless line of metal and work at the blacksmith, etc. like that. None of it seems like work, at least in Monster Hunter World, but people doing it for the love of the craft and like we're all here for sport and entertainment, not because it's actually much of a hassle. This is why I know people, and I will often do it too, who still to this day watch the cooking animation for every meal in Monhun and I actually make sure to do it in ZZZ too to help make sure I still connect with this vibe.

BUT.

This is not a perfect goal. Not by any means. Part of how they have attempted to achieve this is through the pacing of mechanics. Everything needs a proper introduction that's metered out so as to avoid the game EVER feeling overwhelming. It also needs to be introduced with its own place in the world so if a place is locked off to a different area... Good luck. They did break this with the HIA Club but ONLY it and if they hadn't, it would have been another five hours, when it already takes a long time, to get to being allowed to use your energy in any way because of where it's located in the world. It also knows it can't introduce the grind up front which is why instead of getting to spend energy, the game's first activities on Sixth Street are eating noodles and playing Snake Eater with Billy at Godfinger. It's introducing mechanics but it's prioritizing vibe over mechanical usefulness. It is a mixed blessing because it's trying to get you invested first like it should but it's struggling to know how to pace that.

I think this is part of why there are so many level gates in 1.0's content. You have to get to level THIRTY. SIX. to clear the main story. That's over half the account levels in the entire game. However, if they didn't slow you down, you'd never engage with the small side quests on the streets, or in the Hollows, that will help endear you to the setting and help solidify its tone before you're done with the main content. More charitably, it also tries to imply that ZZZ is a more chill experience. That it's not trying to rush you. Too bad that I kind of need to get to Proxy level 50 so I can max out my character levels and have any chance of clearing like ANY of the limited time Shiyu Defense content they've put out currently so that pressure is still being applied in places that are just copy and pasted from other Hoyo games.

It is messy and unique, like so much of ZZZ. I don't really say any of this as either praise or condemnation but just to dissect it. To see how it works because flourishes like these matter. Even in regular books, with no mechanics, the sort of strength of language, the shade of purple of the prose and what the story focuses on can cause different vibes. A soft, low stakes romance is probably going to spend a decent amount of time just with our two leads being in pleasant situations and not even panicking. A more whirlwind romance might make everything really intense to try and sell the emotion its going for. Meanwhile, something that's meant to be dramatic and teases to potentially end in tragedy will tinge most scenes with a small bit of intrigue and try to make sure the audience never really gets to sit entirely at ease, not until the calm before the storm that brings it all crashing down.

These are tools in your toolbox and your audience will like them or not. For me, I find them to be a mixed bag. Something I loved when there was a lot to do and now something that makes the time between patches feel more straining on my patience with the game. What are your thoughts though? Do you find ZZZ cozy or does the pacing frustrate you? And as always, see you next tale.

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I have a public Discord for any and all who want to join!

I also have an Amazon page for all of my original works in various forms of character focused romances from cute, teenage romance to erotica series of my past. I have an Ao3 for my fanfiction projects as well if that catches your fancy instead. If you want to hang out with me, I stream from time to time and love to chat with chat.

A Twitter you can follow too

And a Kofi if you like what I do and want to help out with the fact that disability doesn’t pay much.

[scramboileditlog]

80vac Hangout & Coffee Shop Recommendations

1. Kura Cafe - General Trias, Cavite

Usual hangout spot namin ng friends ko. Malaki yung place. Di pricey yung drinks. Sa foods and pastry so far lahat ng triny ko sa menu nila masarap. I recommend their creamy carbonara. May free wifi voucher upon ordering. Open 24 hours.

2. rocafé - Dasmariñas City, Cavite

Mini coffee shop. Perfect for small groups and solo goers. Friendly lahat ng staff pati owner. They also ask you if you'd want to customize your drinks according to your preferences. Open til 10pm.

3. Cake's Coffee - Amadeo, Cavite

Maluwag yung al fresco nila pero maliit parking but you can park along the road din naman. Yung cheesecake and pastries daw sikat dito pero di ko pa nasubukan kasi di ako mahilig sa cheesecake, kape lang ako kasi you know Amadeo. Open til 7pm on weekdays and 9pm on weekends.

4. The Coffee Bar - Imus, Cavite

Tabi ng gas station. Usual stopover namin ng friends ko pag papunta or pabalik from Imus. Masarap yung coffee, paborito ko rin baked mac nila tska smores. Open til 12mn.

5. CLoud Coffee House - Dasmariñas City, Cavite

Mini coffee shop. Quality yung ingredients. Sikat dito yung selection nila ng croffles lalo na yung biscoff croffles. Open til 12mn.

6. Yaletown Café - Tagaytay City, Cavite

Another perfect hangout spot lalo na sa balcony. Masarap yung coffee and choco baterol. Medyo pricey pero classy kasi yung place so parang justified naman tska among coffee shops in Tagaytay di siya crowded so di maingay. Open til 4am.

7. KOPA KOPPI CAFE - Tagaytay City, Cavite

Another perfect spot if you want to have coffee tapos may view ng Taal Lake. Di rin pricey yung menu and malawak yung place. Open 24 hours.

8. Tinatangi Cafe - Dasmariñas City, Cavite

Malawak yung place. May parang tree house pa. Ganda dito kaso andami lagi ng tao. Pati yung lighting nila ang ganda. Try niyo nalang puntahan. Open til 12mn.

9. Cafe 10/23 - Imus, Cavite

Ito perfect for big groups. Malaki yung place tapos maganda. Pwede rin ata for events tong place. Kung malapit lang to sakin madalas ko tong pupuntahan eh. Open til 12mn.

10. Cosmos Café Studios - Dasmariñas City, Cavite

Once palang namin napuntahan pero maganda yung place tska estetik. Di pa namin naisip bumalik kasi along the highway ang hassle pag walang parking. Sarap nung white mocha nila pati yung pasta nakalimutan ko lang name. Photo studio din sila. Open til 8pm on weekdays and 10pm on weekends.

11. Kaffe Belardo - Amadeo, Cavite

Ganda rin dito since 2010 pa sila pero hanggang ngayon sikat pa din dito. Sarap ng coffee and cakes. Open til 6pm.

12. Vermosa - Imus, Cavite

Ito hangout place talaga. Pili nalang kayo ng preferred niyong coffee. May Starbucks, The Coffee Bean & Tea Leaf, masarap din yung iced mocha sa Burger King or coffee sa Mcdo.

13. Lamuan Shell Acienda - Silang, Cavite

Ito lang hangout place namin sa Silang. Pumupunta kami dito pag madami kaming may dalang kotse. Tapos ayun pwede uminom ng drinks and coffee kasi may Shell Select convenience store.

Mga di ko pa napuntahan pero maganda and masarap rin daw.

1. Hound Coffee and Studio - Imus, Cavite

2. Cafe Agapita - Silang, Cavite

3. Upland Kafé - Silang, Cavite

Alam ko naman marami pang ibang places bukod dito pero so far ito lang yung either tumatak sa isip namin kasi maganda and masarap or binabalik-balikan talaga namin. Di ko na din sinama yung mga mainstream brands.

[jeffgerstmann]

How much of a factor do you think the steam refund policy is in COD continuing to do the garbage COD HQ shit? The hours being combined means you can't get the automatic 2 hour refund, so its more of a hassle to refund it. Is the COD HQ crap on consoles? Is that how it works on the other PC store fronts?

They do this across all platforms, it's not some weird plot to keep people from refunding the game. They're not wrong to want a unified platform, it's a pretty good idea. Warzone being an evolving, free-to-play piece of the game every year makes keeping everyone in the same launcher the right move.

The execution really sucks, though, and I'm not sure that it could be much better, considering the way the games are built. This is a game that still requires full restarts every time they do a patch-less update, and you might already be two or three menus and two executable loads deep before you hit the "update requires restart" wall.

That's a horrible experience that they just haven't changed... I'm guessing that's because the way the game hands itself off to different executables isn't exposed as directly on console as it is on PC, where the game literally shuts down and relaunches.

Breaking the games apart would effectively require them to update a game at the end of its year to completely remove Warzone from it, because Warzone is typically attached to the current year's game. The alternative would be to break Warzone out into its own thing entirely, but then creating a situation where Warzone more directly competes with the paid product instead of it all being part of the same package.

Combining those things also keeps filesizes down, because having them completely split apart would mean you couldn't share player models or any other assets between the installs.

[water-lemon-alex]

I would like to give a little update on where I’ve been!

I am deep in the menu squad brainrot as always. Yeah, the arts are still happening. I’ve been doodling a LOT of II in my free time, school is just such a hassle right now 😭 I even have menulings now!? (menu squad fankids for a rarepair event 🙏)

Trying to plan things out for Season 1 of II: Welcome to Insanity right now… I got the designs now! (they will be similar to my current designs to them)

[password-door-lock]

Mystictober Day 24-- Love/Hacked

Ray really had no choice but to hack into your thoughts… right? (825 words)  Content warning: manipulation 

It was no trouble at all for Ray to hack into your brain and make you love him.

Of course, the first step was to make sure that you felt confident and secure in your room at Magenta. Perhaps his first mistake had been to leave you with a door that anybody other than Ray could unlock— no wonder you couldn’t enjoy your paradise, living under conditions like that. The next step was to give you the elixir of salvation to ensure that you’d be easier to guide on the path to salvation and enlightenment. Ray could never blame you for not understanding everything right away. After all, he’s the one who’s meant to teach you, and luckily for you, he’s very patient. How could he be any other way with the love of his life?

After that, it wasn’t too difficult to free you from your toxic thought patterns. The defenses you put up around your mind were flimsy, lines of code that Ray could crack with a flick of his elegant wrist. All he needed to do was teach you that Magenta is a paradise, a special place where you and he can live happily, regardless of the odds stacked against you both. He explained over and over again that he was here to guide you, to help you, to care for you, until, finally, he began to see his desired output.

“Good morning, my MC,” Ray greets you gently as he parts the curtains in your room. “How was your sleep?”

“Very good,” you breathe. Ray is always blown away by your sweet voice. You sit up in bed. “Thank you, Ray. I love you.”

You always greet him this way, but Ray finds himself blushing nevertheless. He’s so pleased that you love him, and so profoundly thankful that you feel the need to tell him every single day. He didn’t even ask you to do that, which is a multifold blessing. Not only did you retain some level of autonomy and self-awareness following the cleansing process (Ray was initially worried that this might not be the case), but you’ve chosen to combine your autonomy and your self-awareness in a way that expresses your love for Ray. 

“I love you, too,” he informs you, leaning down to pepper your face with kisses. “So much.”

You giggle, sounding so unrestrained and free. You’re definitely much happier than you were before your cleansing, even if you don’t always seem to know what’s going on in the world around you. Actually, perhaps it’s precisely because you don’t know what’s going on that you’re able to be so happy. Ray is a little bit jealous of your carefree existence, but if anybody deserves a life without worries, then of course, it’s his prince(ss).  

“Let’s get you dressed before breakfast,” Ray suggests, gently smoothing your hair down. “Any ideas for today, my sweet?” He sort of misses how creative you used to be, the small ways that you’d express yourself through your clothes and your opinions. But all of that is a small price to pay to ensure that you’re thriving at Ray’s side. 

“Cereal?” You suggest.

Ray chuckles. He can’t help it— you’re just so cute. “I meant ideas about your outfit, my love.” You’re so adorable, looking up at him with those big, empty eyes. “But of course you can have whatever you want for breakfast.” It’s going to be a hassle to get a hold of some cereal before then, and the believers won’t be pleased to scrap the elaborate buffet they’re preparing now, but Ray needs everything to be perfect for you. 

“Okay,” you beam at him, “Thank you.” 

“Let me tell the believers that you want to change the menu, and then I’ll be back to help pick out your clothes for you.” It’s not as though the elixir of salvation has robbed you of the ability to do this for yourself. You’re perfectly capable of picking a cute outfit and changing into it, but you allow Ray to do it for you because you actually want to spend time with him. “I shouldn’t be more than a few minutes.”

“Alright,” you agree. You’ve been so agreeable ever since Ray explained the purpose of this place to you. It’s hard to remember the time you clung to him, sobbing and begging him to leave Magenta with you— you were so confused then, but now, those problematic lines of code have been deleted from the script that runs through your head. 

Ray gently pets your hair, taking care not to cause you even the slightest harm. You lean eagerly into the touch; it’s clear that you’re neither afraid of him nor disgusted by him. Finally, he has everything he’s ever wanted— you’re here, and you love him, and he’s so close to finishing the task that the Savior has assigned him. So why does Ray’s life continue to feel so strangely empty?