#I might tag it properly later if I feel like it but my allergies have been awful to me today so I don't really care

[chocmoon-latte]

I swear, when it comes to some games writing morally grey/questionable companions, they're pretty much just programmed to hate every good thing you do regardless of if it makes sense for them to dislike it or not.

For example, if you're helping an NPC that's stuck in a similar situation or has similar trauma to said companion, you'd think the thought process would be "hey, I'm glad to see that you think people who have suffered the same way I have are deserving of being helped". But no, you get negative points for it instead.

It's even worse when you do go out of your way to be horrible to people and leave them to fend for themselves to get your companion's approval, and all of a sudden, they turn around to you like: "You know, seeing how much of a piece of shit and an awful human being you are to others really makes me feel like I can trust you to help me with my problems, even after you shunned everyone else away for theirs! Please do my companion quest to prove you're good to me and me alone and that I'm putting my faith in the right person." Like????

Seriously, where's the logic? It's never just "wait a minute, if this is how they react to others dealing with their own struggles, then maybe I shouldn't tell them mine."

[666writingcafe]

Asmodeus

General Content Warning: nsfw of the smut variety

Specific Content Tags: making out, grinding, swearing/dirty talk, straight up sex (riding)

Author's Note: the actual smut occurs under the line of three ۞

I feel like I'm going to die.

I was going to my room to take a nice, long bath and wait until the chaos was over. Before I could even get to my door, however, my periphery goes dark, and I nearly trip over my feet and fall flat on my face. Out of reflex, my hand hits a nearby wall, and I lean up against it to maintain my balance.

The tightness in my chest causes me to slide down into the floor, and that's when the smell makes its entrance. It's followed closely behind by the voices. Even though I know that everything's occurring in my mind, I still bury my face in my knees and cover my ears to block out the sound. As expected, this only amplifies things.

"Asmo."

Is someone actually calling my name, or is my brain tricking me?

"Asmodeus."

A hand on my leg quiets the cacophony enough for me to look up.

"What's wrong?" MC asks. They're kneeling in front of me, face full of concern. I want to answer them, but a wheeze escapes my mouth when I try to breathe.

"Don't talk. Just move your head. Can you do that?" I nod my head.

"Do you need help getting up?" Nod. MC stands up and extends a hand out to me. Grabbing it, I allow them to pull me up. The movement unfortunately makes me dizzy, and I end up collapsing into their arms. They thankfully steady me before I knock us back onto the floor.

"Do you have something in your room that might help you feel better?" Nod. MC adjusts the two of us so that we're standing side by side with our hands wrapping around each other's backs, and they gently guide us to my room. Once inside, I direct MC to my bed before having them open one of my dresser drawers and pull out my inhaler.

I was prescribed it after my first attack, and while I haven't had to use it very often, it does come in handy. I have multiples all over the Devildom for this exact purpose.

Once I puff on my inhaler, my vision opens back up, and I feel more stable.

"What just happened?" MC asks. I sigh. I still sound a bit raspy, but I think I can at least talk.

"I had an attack."

"Clearly. Was it triggered by regular allergies, or was this a magically-induced one?"

"It's a side effect of my sin."

"Lust gives you asthma?" Shaking my head, I pat on the bed, and MC comes over to the bed and sits next to me.

"As you may know, demons need sin in order to properly maintain their power."

"And that Avatars of Sin are most attracted to their own sin and will act like vampires if they're not careful." I snort in amusement.

"Honey, we are vampires. No acting required." I pause. "But that's a conversation for another day. What's important right now is that you know these things, because otherwise I'm not going to make much sense to you."

"Got it."

"Now, demons can experience sin as well as consume it. The more powerful the individual, the stronger the sin they produce is. I'm sure you noticed by now that the seven of us are rather intense in that regard, and that's just with our assigned sin. Imagine what it would be like to see us experience each other's sins. There are places we can't go--places that we wouldn't enter normally--because of particular episodes that caused severe damage. And it's not just in an 'oh, you're banned from here' way, but in an 'if you step foot on our property, you will be legally prosecuted' kind of way."

"Remind me to get more details about that later, because now you got my interest piqued." I smile.

"So, since my brothers are under the influence of the syrup, their lust is essentially sprinting towards me and is demanding that I take it all in at once. It's bad enough if one or two of them experience it, but five at the same time?!"

"It's a miracle you didn't die."

"Or kill anyone."

"Over jealousy?" I didn't realize that MC paid that close attention to me to pick up on that. As if reading my mind, MC looks at me in disbelief and adds,

"Do you seriously not remember our last conversation?" Oh. Oh. "You yourself admitted that you couldn't have me to yourself because of your brothers. Does that not upset you?"

"It does." I grab MC's hand. "Do you have any idea just how much I missed you after you went back to the human world? I was never in the mood to go out, even when I was invited to parties."

MC doesn't say anything, but they don't seem to be judging me for what I said, so I decide to continue.

"And at night, I dreamt that you were holding me close, keeping me warm. It never progressed past that, but it didn't need to. MC, I felt lonely without you. I knew no one would take me seriously if I told them that, so I had to keep those emotions to myself. All the while, my brothers would freely lament about how much they missed you, and it angered me."

"You didn't think it was fair."

"It wasn't fair!" MC stands up and faces me, grabbing my other hand and looking into my eyes.

"I wish I knew you felt this way sooner," they state. "You could have come see me."

"We weren't allowed to. Lucifer forbade it."

"In whatever case, I have to make it right."

۞۞۞

MC lets go of my hands and grabs my shoulders to keep their balance as they straddle my lap. Instinctively, I wrap my arms around them and pull them closer to me.

"My pretty Asmo." They reach over and tuck some of my hair behind my ear. "Would you like me to show you how much I love you?" Too stunned to speak, I can only nod my head. MC smiles as they lean in and kiss me.

The make-out session that ensues is unlike any that I've ever participated in. I tend to be the quick, fiery hot type, but this...this is sensual. Even though we're going slow, the passion is just as intense, if not more so.

I know that MC has to attend to my other brothers at some point, but at the moment, all their attention is on me.

Pants fill the room as our clothes seemingly melt away. Pants turn into moans as our hands travel each other's bodies and our most intimate parts brush up against each other.

Before I know it, I'm laying on my back, watching MC finish undress themselves.

"You don't have to do this if you don't want to." The words slip out of my mouth before the thought fully registers in my brain. "I'm not under the influence of the syrup."

"I appreciate the sentiment, but your worries are unwarranted." They lean down to unbutton my pants. "I want to do this."

"Are you sure?" Why am I doubting MC when they are in the process of pulling my dick out?

"Look, Mammon has always bragged about being my first, and he never specifies that it's about pacts."

"True." Where are they going with this?

"And I'm sure you heard about Beel and I fooling around a bit, but we only ever made out."

"Okay..." I'm completely exposed now.

"I want you to be the first demon that puts their pretty little cock inside of me." Oh my. MC has gotten rather bold since the last time.

I like it.

I sit up on my bed and reposition myself so that I can both rest my head on some pillows and have easier access to the lube that resides in the drawer of my nightstand. If we're doing this, I want to make sure that neither one of us experiences the discomfort of chafing.

MC asks if they could apply the lube, and I happily oblige. They're surprisingly thorough, making sure that I'm well covered in all the right places. Not wanting to waste whatever's remaining on their hands once they're through with me, they apply the rest onto themselves. Then, MC climbs on top of me, and I help them ease their way down my shaft.

"Are you okay?" I ask once they can't take anymore in. "It doesn't hurt, does it?"

"It's a little uncomfortable, but not painful," they answer. "Then again, it's not like I've done this a bunch of times, so maybe that's to be expected."

"Do you want me to set the tempo, or do you want to be the one in control?"

"Would you mind?" I smile.

"Not at all. I'll be gentle." I grab their sides to keep them steady before slowly thrusting in and out of them. After a few moments, quiet moans escape their lips.

"Does it feel good?"

"Yes."

"Do you want me to go faster or keep my current pace?" I know that there are plenty of people that would scold me for asking so many questions, but I feel like it is my responsibility to ensure that my partner gets the most out of the experience. If they are unsatisfied, then I haven't done a good job, plain and simple.

"Could you go a little faster?"

"Certainly." Soon, my moans mix with theirs, and we both start complimenting each other. Or at least, we try to. The closer we get to our climax, the harder it is for us to string words together to form a coherent sentence.

As much as I'd like to keep MC with me for a few more hours, I also don't want my brothers to suffer any longer than they have to, so one round will have to suffice for right now.

[scriptlgbt]

in the story i’m planning, the two main characters are a brother and sister who were separated when they were very young (the brother around age ten and the sister around age six) and reunite as adults (their mid-to-late thirties). the sister is a trans woman and had not come out / realized she was trans while growing up with her brother. during their separation the brother starts wearing a mask and using only a code name at all times—because of this, she has no idea what he looks like or what his real name is and he doesn’t realize who she is even though they’ve been traveling together for months. eventually an antagonist reveals the identities and backgrounds of several main characters, including the brother, and then the sister. this is the part i’m struggling to approach—how can i properly do a reveal about the sister so that the brother knows she’s his family without framing it as blatant outing? if the villain were to say “your sister, [deadname]” and the brother expresses some confusion like “i don’t have a sister?” would it be alright for the villain to say something like “i should clarify, i am referring to the one now going by [name]” and the brother realizes who she is? i’m writing this as a cis woman and i feel like this approach is problematic but i am not sure how else to approach the reveal. if this doesn’t work do you have any advice on how else i can do it? thank you!

Your instincts that your approach is problematic are definitely right. It’s literally an outing and the trans character’s deadname is used as a weapon. These kinds of stories can sometimes work, but those kinds of stories are usually by trans authors trying to explain to an audience that it is morally wrong to out someone and use their deadname as a weapon against them. That, or it’s a trans author writing something that’s meant to be cathartic for a trans audience, or to depict the deep evilness of a specific character, or some other deeply important reason. (Mainly, those scenes and plot tools require trans authors, the majority of the time if not all, I’d say.) Explaining a trans character’s identity to an audience is just not a good enough reason to use a scene like that, in my opinion.

I’m not personally going to go so far as to say that you should never even consider the existence of a deadname for your trans characters, BUT I question the relevance, because it’s almost never actually necessary in 99.99% of the occasions most authors of trans characters seem to think. I just need people to deeply question why there is this compulsion to include something like that as some kind of go-to option. It can be avoided the vast majority of the time.

To give actual advice on trying to communicate this to the characters and the reader, we have a stealth tag that will probably help you in terms of inspiration.

Specific to a situation like this, I would probably find some ways to hint at something like this being possible earlier on. Something like pointing out coincidences that are more common when people are related (like similar stature, allergies, whatever), or mentioning a shared memory of their sibling. Or a very clear birthmark, or port wine stain, or some other thing that’s distinctive.

I also think that it might be a pretty nice subversion of common tropes like this to have the cis brother be able to immediately accept the possibility that he has no idea who the person he once knew could actually have become. Including the possibility of that person being a woman. (... Just don’t frame that as a joke.) Being open to your missing family being anybody makes a lot more sense to me than thinking you would be able to recognize the six-year-old you knew decades later.

Making it a big dramatic reveal is... dangerous and generally not okay. We’ve written on this a bit over the years but I’m struggling to remember what specific post to link that would be helpful for this. Among other reasons, avoid it because if something like that happened in real life, it would probably give a trans person some extreme trauma (to have a friend out them, let alone an enemy) and cause someone to fear for their life if not be in immediate danger. A villain respecting a character’s Actual gender does not guarantee safety if they are literally committing the act of outing someone. Outing is a dangerous act and it causes harm in itself. It’s terrifying.

Think of it like having all of your clothes taken from you in front of people you do not know or trust. You had no way of fighting to keep those clothes on. You have no way to get those clothes back. You just have to live in the cold, maybe until you freeze to death.

Another thing you could try is to have a scene like that but before the villain can say anything, it’s immediately guessed by the brother that his sister is his sister, with the smallest amount of external hinting. Because other coincidences have lined up.

You don’t have to have the brother and sister sharing everything and trusting each other in order to hint at commonalities either - there’s definitely ways that things can slip up that work together to paint a picture. Like being early risers, being able to trade shoes in an emergency because they have the same size, having similar cultural backgrounds that they are both aware of even if they don’t necessarily have the same relationship with that background.

- mod nat

[panharmonium]

@MERLINOBSESSIONIST I’M -

YOU CANNOT POSSIBLY UNDERSTAND HOW FILLED WITH LOVE THIS MADE ME FEEL

(^me @ you!!!!!  but also merlin @ will lbr can you IMAGINE)

i know you know i don’t really read much fic but in terms of just tag browsing, almost everything i’ve ever seen about reincarnation is either about just arthur or just the camelot crew and i will tell you right now, the ONLY acceptable explanation for this is that will hasn’t shown up yet, like - it is patently not fair for merlin’s ultimate ‘happy ending’ to do nothing but affirm the message that camelot was the only thing about his life that mattered.

so perhaps, instead: reincarnation runs in reverse, so that merlin finds the first person he lost last.  long after he stopped expecting to meet anyone else, long after he figured this new world’s roster was complete - even merlin assumed it was just camelot that was part of this grand story; destiny never seemed to care about any other part of him before.  

so he doesn’t even think about it.  it doesn’t even cross his mind as a possibility.  

until, of course, it does.

[in other words: i took your ask and wrote you a story.]

i really don’t care for this destiny shit.

merlin hasn’t done accidental magic for a millennium and a half (and it’s a good thing, too, considering his capabilities) but in that space between one thunderous heartbeat and the next, the pavement under his feet splits into a spiderweb network of cracks, and along each crack blooms a tangled vein of grass, shockingly green and decidedly un-urban and definitely not the result of any conceivable natural processes.

will is unimpressed.  “you haven’t changed one ruddy bit,” he says.  “you numpty.  it’s broad daylight.”

merlin wants to say that will hasn’t changed one ruddy bit either, because no one else on earth can manage to show up fifteen centuries after their supposedly permanent death and still make merlin want to strangle them within seconds, but it comes out like “mmmf  ffmm mfmf” because merlin is sort of strangling will after all, in a hug, and his face is mashed into will’s clothes, and he can’t enunciate properly with a mouthful of t-shirt.

(he also can’t enunciate properly when he’s crying, but that’s nobody’s damn business.)

merlin is insufferable for weeks.

that’s will’s opinion on the subject, anyhow.  merlin maintains that this is an exaggeration, in response to which will retorts, “yesterday when i woke up i cracked my skull on your nose ‘cos you were hanging over me while i was having a nap, merlin, you’ve gone completely round the bed - ”

later on, maybe, merlin will admit that perhaps will has a point, and maybe merlin was being just a little bit overbearing.  

but in the moment, all merlin can think about is zippers.

zippers are a clever little invention.

of all the innovations merlin has seen emerge over the last 1500 years, he has always been oddly charmed by the zipper, which up until now he believed to be a perfectly designed machine.  currently, though, he’s revised his opinion - zippers for fastening two bits of clothing together are handy, make no mistake, but merlin, who has resolved to never again let will out of his sight, thinks zipping two people together would be a handier function by half, and wonders if zipper manufacturers are open to suggestions.  

it’s just that not letting will out of his sight means not letting will do...well, almost anything, really, and it would be much easier to accomplish this if merlin could keep will where he wanted him while also having both hands free.  but merlin is willing to make sacrifices in the name of precautions, and he resolves to master the art of shadowing will’s every move even without the aid of specialized fastening apparatuses, for all that a zipper would have been more convenient.  

for some unfathomable reason, will seems to find this annoying.  but merlin tries to make himself feel better about his friend’s marked ingratitude by convincing himself that will’s reluctance to follow perfectly reasonable, safety-related rules is just a consequence of his natural anti-authoritarian streak, and not, in fact, a reaction to the fact that merlin has gone completely round the twist.

merlin is not being unreasonable.  he’s not.  

it’s a dangerous world out there.  you can’t be too careful.  

“what are you doing?” asks merlin, alarmed.

will looks blankly at merlin over the hood of the car.  “getting in?”

“oh, no.  you can’t sit there.”

“can’t i?  i’m driving.”

“no.”

“no, i’m not driving?”

“no.”

“you’re driving, then.”

“no.”

“i don’t understand.  who’s driving?”

“...no.”

“...how are we supposed to do your groceries?”

“look, i just think, you know, let’s just...skip it.”

“merlin,” will says, with forced calm, “you have no toilet paper.”

“what are you doing?”

“...eating.”

“you’ve not had that before.”

“so?”

merlin hesitates.  “do you know, allergies are hundreds of times more common now than they were when we - ”

“merlin...”

“i’m only saying that if you haven’t tried it before - ”

“merlin - ”

“maybe i should just - ”

“merlin, if you try to take this plate away from me i am dumping the sticky bit all over your trousers.”

“what are you doing?”

“nothing, merlin.”

“you got up.”

“so?”

“where are you going?”

“...the loo, merlin.”

will tries his best to be patient with merlin, but unfortunately patience has never been one of his strong suits, so merlin’s fingers do end up getting slammed in a number of bathroom doors before merlin manages to finally (grudgingly) admit that will has, in point of fact, always been rather more self-sufficient than merlin himself, and that will has also, in general, been quite good about not getting himself killed in stupid accidents, when left to his own devices.

“so,” merlin concedes, “as long as no one’s actively trying to murder you - ”

“can’t promise anything,” says will, around a mouthful of toast.  “something about me puts people’s backs right up, merlin; i know a couple of blokes who’d be well pleased if i did drop dead of a freak nectarine allergy - ”

“ - then i suppose,” merlin continues, gritting his teeth, “you’ll probably be fine.”

merlin is proud of himself for deciding to be such a grown-up, and he thinks his insufferable period ends there.  

the rest of his friends quietly disagree, even if they never say so to merlin’s face, because for them, merlin’s insufferable period has just begun.  merlin, who has spent the last 1500 years diligently serving someone else’s interests, has now suddenly reacquired the one thing in his life that was ever just his, and the fact of the matter is that will’s reappearance, unexpected as it is, turns merlin temporarily feral.

even after merlin decides to stop (literally) breathing down will’s neck at every turn, he still goes virtually everywhere at will’s elbow (if they go out at all), and he comes home in exactly the same position, and he sleeps on the living room floor because that’s where he and will are lying when they talk themselves out in the middle of the night, and he gleefully declines invitations to do things with other people because he is already doing exactly what he wants to do, and he will continue to do so for exactly as long as he wants to do it, and now it is everybody else’s turn to wait.

people who haven’t seen him for a long time start asking him if he wants to come round, and he doesn’t even bother with ‘oh, i’m a bit busy atm;’ he just replies <no> and then "loses” his phone behind the couch.

(gwen is the only one who ever gets a clarifying text after one of these episodes, the content of which reads i didn’t mean that in a nasty way.  she sends back a little purple flower in response, because of course she knows perfectly well he didn’t - she laughed, to be honest, when she got the original message.)

(she thinks it’s nice to hear merlin using the word no as a complete sentence, actually.)

(she knew him the longest, after everything went to hell.  by now, they understand each other.)

most of merlin’s other friends don’t bother him too much after their first failed attempts at connecting, because they can take a hint, and they have their own lives to live, and they assume they’ll just see merlin when he wants to see them.

a few of them, however, are accustomed to getting everything they want, very quickly, almost all of the time, and said people (person) spent a formative chunk of their lives relying on merlin to (literally) drag them out of bed every morning, so these people (person) turn out to be a bit more persistent.

merlin’s email inbox pings him multiple times a day, asking increasingly curious and impatient variations on “where are u,” until merlin activates the out-of-office reply feature and sets the bounce-back message to “at the tavern.”  merlin’s mobile keeps ringing, until he magicks it to redirect all incoming calls to an in-home laundry service.  the landline starts ringing then as well, at which point will picks up the phone and says, his face utterly serious, “we’re not home,” while merlin cackles (unsubtly, audibly) in the background.

much later, when merlin has finally relaxed a bit and rejoined society, arthur will grumble about this, because he still gets Like That sometimes and doesn’t appreciate being Mocked, thank you very much (especially not by “that fellow”), but will isn’t the least bit concerned.

“i wasn’t taking the piss, mate,” will says, quite obviously doing just that.  “i thought you might fall for it, is all.”

arthur, huffy: “why in god’s name would you think i would believe such an obvious lie?”

will:

what eventually gets merlin and will out of their self-imposed quarantine is not, in fact, arthur’s exhaustive collection of attempts to hassle merlin by phone, email, and carrier pigeon, but rather a simple text from gwaine, which, in true gwaine fashion, asks no questions and makes no demands, but contains instead a single blurry photo of what might be elyan and percival looking disappointed and droopy in front of some kind of beach, though the sky behind them seems very grey and the camera lens appears to be smeared with raindrops.

>>freak thunderstorms on beach day/weatherman said no chance??? >>NOT ON, you funky little wizard

merlin laughs and lays his phone aside, not feeling any particular need to explain for the thousandth time that he does not, in fact, control the weather (well - all right, not usually, anyhow; there was that one time, yes, fine, but on the whole, natural forces were not to be trifled with), and then, as quickly as he puts the text out of his mind, he snaps up the phone again, struck by a thrill of realization.  “gwaine,” he breathes gleefully, consumed suddenly with anticipation.

“wossat?” will asks from the other side of the table, barefoot and pyjama-clad.

“we’re going out,” merlin says, popping up from his chair and pushing will out of his seat.  “put your shoes on.”  

will allows merlin to hustle him out of the kitchen, but grumbles, “can i put my clothes on, too, or are we trying to be somewhere yesterday?”

“you can put your clothes on,” merlin says, shoving will into the living room.  “i want you to meet somebody.”

will puts on the brakes immediately, stopping them both in the doorway to the hall.  “who?”

“a friend of mine.”

“what friend?”

merlin pauses.  will’s expression is suddenly wary, and merlin knows him well enough to tread carefully.  will doesn’t know any of merlin’s other people, and he claims he doesn’t care to, ostensibly because he’s got enough friends already, but merlin knows what the real issue is, and it’s that the picture-plastered refrigerator door in merlin’s kitchen is a disquieting, uneasy mystery to will, a puzzle he on some deep level doesn’t believe he fits into.  

merlin can’t blame him for feeling that way.  it’s not like merlin did much to disabuse him of that notion, after all, in their old life.  

“just a friend,” merlin decides, keeping it simple.  “gwaine.  you’ll like him.”

“i don’t know him,” will counters.

merlin spins will around by the shoulders and points him in the direction of the bedroom.  “trust me.  you want to.”

don’t leave, merlin texts gwaine, afterwards, while will is getting dressed.  stay at the beach.

merlin’s phone buzzes a moment later.  it’s tipping down out here.

merlin leans against the warm, rain-spattered glass of the window and checks the sky, which is grey still, but brightening, and then looks at will, who has emerged from the bedroom, shoes in hand.

don’t bother about the weather, merlin types.

why?  gwaine’s reply is almost instantaneous, but merlin ignores it for a minute, watching as will crouches in the foyer and does up his laces.  

merlin spent half his life at home watching will’s hands fly over more complicated knots than the bow in a pair of trainers - double-half hitches for calving ropes, halter loops for wayward goats, ring knots draped over gateposts and snap-releases for pulling legs up and out of kicking range.  will was always good at that sort of thing, at anything handsy - it was how he talked, when he finally ran out of things to say with his mouth.  his fingers were always moving, tying string or tilling soil or turning trees into harrows and haycarts and hundreds of yards of rough-hewn fencing.  he always had sawdust in the hem of his trousers and splinters in his hands, and - for far too long a period of their lives - a little frowny crease in his brow.

why?  gwaine’s inquiry is still glowing up at merlin, awaiting a response.

merlin watches will double-knot his second shoe in one brisk motion.  will is tidier now, and his hands are less scarred, but his fingers move as surely as they ever did.  and even if his forehead sometimes still sports that same little uncertain crinkle, merlin has caught will in a silly grin once or twice, too.

merlin ducks his head and taps out his answer:  

i think things are looking up.

“you were talking to lancelot?”

it gives merlin an indescribably warm and pleasant squirm in his stomach to see will and lancelot chatting together in gwen’s back garden.  lancelot is hardly ever in town these days, and merlin has dragged will out to this to-do specifically because if there’s one event lancelot will show up to this year, it’s gwen’s birthday.  but will hasn’t fallen into the rhythm of these things yet, and he’s always in danger of slinking off to the sidelines, to less well-tended patches of plants illuminated only by the twinkle lights wound into gwen’s fencing.  he is startlingly uncertain now, in a way that would have shocked merlin in another life, though these days merlin just takes it in stride, joining will on whatever patch of grass he’s chosen for himself, where they eat from a shared paper plate, and eventually the rest of the party comes to them, because people follow merlin like a beacon wherever he goes, even into dark corners.

will nods.  “yeah.”

eloquent, as usual.  merlin prods him in the arm.  “what do you think of him, then?”

will makes a face.  “i’ve only just met the man.”

“i’ve never known that to stop you having an opinion.”

will sighs.  “he seems fine, merlin.”

on the other side of the garden, elyan is building up the firepit, breaking up sticks for kindling.  arthur is watching lancelot, who is watching gwen, who is radiant and beaming in a bright yellow sundress, but she, too, is watching both of her observers, whenever they aren’t watching her.  

none of them look troubled, exactly.  just thoughtful.  

“he seemed to know who i was,” will says suddenly.

merlin is surprised to hear will offer anything further on the subject.  “well, i suppose he does, a bit.  he’s my friend, you know.  he’s heard of you.”

“the rest of your friends hadn’t heard of me.”

the rest of merlin’s friends are, at that moment, pestering leon to give elyan back a confiscated can of lighter fluid nicked from the grill, swearing on their oaths that the (former) blacksmith isn’t planning on doing any forge-appropriate stunts.  “lancelot’s different,” merlin says after a minute.  “it was different with him.”

“how different?”

gwaine pops the can out of leon’s hands with a pair of tongs and tosses it to arthur, who tosses it to lancelot, who looks surprised at being included.

“well...” merlin says, and pauses for a moment before continuing.  “he knew me.  not like the rest of that lot, i mean.”  he glances at will.  “like you.”

will raises his eyebrows and looks at lancelot again, as if re-evaluating him.

“i couldn’t tell them about you,” merlin says, after a longer pause.  “they wouldn’t have understood.”

will watches lancelot lob the can of lighter fluid to percival, who slings it back to elyan, who freezes mid-pour when gwen hollers his name in That Voice.  “well, that’s all right, then,” will murmurs, almost to himself.  then he turns back to merlin, lifting one curious eyebrow.  “how in the hell did that happen, then?”

“it was sort of an accident.”

“i thought you said gaius was an accident.”

“well - yeah.  also that.”

a disbelieving laugh bursts out of will’s mouth, startling them both.  it’s loud and bell-bright and it turns gwen’s head from where she stands over the picnic table, setting out a plate of desserts.  she catches merlin’s eye and smiles.

“right, then,” will says, recovering himself, but smiling still.  “i’ll have to give this lancelot bloke another go, then.”

“please,” merlin says.  “you should.  he’s worth it.”

will nods to himself, considering lancelot for a moment.  “a whole two of us, is it?”

merlin nods.

“we’ve got nearly enough people to start ourselves a little Society now.”

“a small one.”

“very small,” will agrees.  “...not that - well, i mean...”  he looks suddenly uncomfortable, like he’s said too much.  “i mean, not that i’m saying...well, cat’s out of the bag now, isn’t it, so obviously it doesn’t matter - ”

merlin is already shaking his head.  “no,” he says, stopping will mid-sentence.  

will’s gaze flickers uncertainly between merlin and the group clustered around the firepit.  “no?  i thought you said - ”

“no,” merlin repeats, his voice quiet but uncompromising, “it matters.  don’t ever think that, will.  you have no idea.”

will turns slightly pink and diverts his attention to making an intense inspection of the grass under his feet; merlin decides to leave the subject there, for now, and let will have this moment to be flustered.  someday, maybe, it will take more than the barest scrap of appreciation to turn will sixteen shades of red, but will was always like this at home, too, quick to close himself down, easy for merlin to embarrass, taken off guard by unfiltered affection and squirming at too much sincerity, unable to conceive of himself as something anyone would need or want in any way that wasn’t “an extra pair of hands in the field.”  

merlin did not do much to correct that impression, back then, he knows.  but he’s been given a gift, now, a chance to amend his first and ugliest mistake, and he is going to be deliberate about this unexpected chance at atonement.  he is going to be better.  braver.  he will be less selfish, he promises himself, more patient.  gaius always says that allowing sufficient time for regrowth is the only surefire way to set a broken bone, and merlin doesn’t care if it takes him another 1500 years - he owes will too much to offer him anything less.

will returns his attention to the group on the patio, determinedly looking anywhere but merlin’s face.  “that looks like a torch in a hayloft,” he mutters, watching arthur, gwen, and lancelot’s unfolding dramedy of longing looks.  “long story there, i take it?”

merlin has to smile.  “i’ll tell you all about it, i promise.  you might want to clear your schedule for a week or two, though.”

will shrugs.  “i’m not going anywhere,” he says.  but then he looks sideways at merlin, teetering on the edge of an unasked question.

merlin does not make him wait.  not this time, not ever again.  

“neither am i,” merlin says, and settles in to watch elyan set something on fire.

there are, of course, less pleasant moments.

time has not mellowed will’s sharp edges in the slightest, and those associated with his tongue least of all.  now that he is up to speed, he’s formulated all manner of angry opinions to offer about the reeking cow pie merlin stepped into when he went to camelot, and every week seems to present him with something new to stew over, leading to episodes of simmering surliness that boil over every so often into bitter arguments.

will rarely makes these blunt and unflattering observations in the presence of merlin’s other friends, but merlin is all too aware that this is not because will is even remotely afraid to speak his mind, but rather because he is profoundly disinterested in what merlin’s camelot compatriots might have to say.  will does care what merlin has to say, even if he thinks 90% of it is “cow shyte, merlin, don’t try to feed me that rubbish,” but even merlin can’t escape will’s ire using explanations or placations or rationalizations of the Ultimate Good; will simply doesn’t care about the Powers That Be, and he tells merlin so, every time merlin tries to defend them or justify the part he himself played in their story.  

[^actual footage of will and merlin in the twenty-first century]

someday in the future, will and merlin are going to realize that they don’t actually want to accidentally (on purpose?) murder each other out of sheer frustration, so they decide they are only allowed to argue about this topic twice a year.  

for now, though, will can’t seem to shut up, and merlin can’t let will’s comments pass, and they lock horns every other week on things neither of them have any ability to change.

it’s tiresome, a little bit, and they sometimes have rip-roaring rows which are Horribly Worrisome to other people (‘oh dear, it’s really over for them this time, isn’t it’), but neither will nor merlin fret over it like the rest of their circle does.  they’ve known each other since before they could talk, and fighting with one another is a time-honored tradition, not something to be frightened of.  besides, these are not trifling, unnecessary tiffs they are having - these are necessary evils, lanced abscesses, scoured wounds.  these are bloodlettings, draining both their weary, aching bodies of accumulated poisons.  

merlin knows this has to happen.  he appreciates seeing will this way, up on his toes and full of fire, snappy and uncompromising, ready to shred illusions and evasions and excuses as if they were so many sheets of 1500 year-old parchment.  will in a fight is like a fish in the water, or a bird in the air, balletic and agile, strikingly at home, a creature in its absolute element, and merlin loves watching him, for all that it means he sometimes get bitten for getting too close.

it’s not the end of the world.  they have both known how to fight with each other for a long time.  and merlin - for whom a row with anybody else has always been tedious, uncomfortable, a bothersome disruption - does not mind rowing with will.  rowing with will is like getting his exercise.  it’s natural and familiar, and everything is where it’s supposed to be, in those tinderbox moments, even when Where It’s Supposed To Be is the two of them having an absolute cow at each other in the kitchen while the rest of their friends sit in the living room trading wide-eyed stares and trying to silently debate whether or not they should risk edging sideways out the back door.

merlin tells himself again and again that there’s no need to worry.  the other thing he’s learned from gaius is that a poorly healed fracture sometimes needs to be snapped again in order to set up properly.  

merlin wants his relationship with will to set up properly.  he’s willing to break a few bones to make it happen.

it takes a year for the cast to finally fall off.

it’s summer again by the time they come around to the marrow of the matter, to the tension undergirding all of their arguments, to the knot of grass stuck stubborn and tenacious at the heart of the concrete.

“why did you do it?”

will doesn’t answer merlin’s question right away.  they’ve just finished (or maybe are about to finish, merlin hopes, feeling strangely anticipatory, as is something tentative and promising is hanging just out of sight) a spectacular squabble, and the kitchen in which they sit seems to be sagging, unsupported in the yellow, windowless gloom, the painted cabinetry as tired as they are.

“i left you,” merlin continues, and even though the shameful taste of the truth burns on the way down, he swallows it willingly.  be better, he tells himself.  braver.  “i was afraid to tell you i was going.  i was afraid to get in touch with you after i’d left.  i never said goodbye.  i didn’t ask my mother to relay a message.”

will says nothing.  

“i let people line up to die for something i could have done myself.  i protected myself at everyone else’s expense.  i hid my secret behind our neighbors.  i got you killed.”  merlin takes a deep breath.  “i never said i was sorry.”

will taps his fingers on the table, his eyes focused somewhere off to merlin’s left.  he looks more thoughtful than angry.  “are you?”

the idea that will even needs to ask this question makes merlin want to cry.  merlin could talk for 1500 years and still never manage to explain how sorry he is.  he’s never breathed a word of it to anyone, but there was a part of him that was relieved to bargain his life away to nimueh, all those years ago.  he’d earned that punishment, he knew.  it was a just price.  

“yes,” merlin replies.  “i was wretched to you, and you saved my life.  i left you and you lied for me.  you - ”  merlin’s throat threatens to snap closed; he tells himself to finish.  be better.  be braver.  “i would never have asked you for that, will.  never.  i didn’t deserve it.”

will doesn’t say anything.  he is still not looking quite at merlin, but at the refrigerator behind merlin’s chair, which hums into the silence, blissfully unaware of the conversation taking place directly in front of it.  there’s a photo of will and merlin on the door now, added last month, and merlin still feels slightly strange, when he pulls out a jug of milk in the morning and sees will’s smiling face hanging there.  

merlin has never had a picture of will before.  he has never seen will’s face outside the confines of his own memories.

“well?” merlin prods.  “am i wrong?”

“no,” will replies, “you’re right.”

“then why did you do it?”

will sits up straighter, fixing merlin with a penetratingly direct, unflinching stare, the same startlingly candid look that merlin spent years searching for in other people’s faces, all those ages ago.  fifteen centuries of grieving later, and there it finally is - and one thing, it turns out, is exactly the same: will never did have any patience for foolish questions.  

“you know why,” is all will says.

merlin’s throat snaps shut for good.  he lets it, this time, and closes his eyes, taking a deep, wobbly breath, in through his nose, out through his mouth.  behind him, the refrigerator hums, and the tap drips onto a stack of dirty dishes lying forgotten in the sink, and somewhere, out in the heart of the city, the summer breeze ruffles a section of pavement overgrown with year-old grass.

in about three seconds, merlin is going to have a big, ugly cry in his kitchen.  it’s going to be mortifying and unsightly and sort of inconvenient, since he is supposed to be doing the washing-up, and it’s going to be even more inconvenient because will is right there, and will might not have a freak allergy to nectarines but he does have at least a little bit of an allergy to tears; his own, mostly, though merlin can’t imagine he’s going to love merlin’s very much, either, even if merlin only ever tried to test that theory once and didn’t exactly have a chance to collect any data after the fact.  

but before that inexorable wave rolls in and washes over them both, merlin takes three bracing seconds to remind himself of what he already knows: that will is going to accept merlin’s bawling, this time, or at least take it in stride, and he might even pull over a chair, and tuck up his feet, and have a silent sit with merlin for the duration, because will heard that calloused bone break, too, and felt the sharp, misaligned pieces snap finally, blessedly back into place, and he certainly knew exactly what he was doing when he answered merlin’s question.

you know why is as close to i love you as someone with will’s fraught history is ever going to get.  

and close enough is, for them - for now - close enough.

[ajokeformur-ray]

Self Shipping Ask Game

I’m feeling self-indulgent as all hell so I did another one, with Patrick Verona this time!! 💙 I’m starting to lose track of my F/Os...

Tagging @jokershyena​ so she can see!

Word count: 2, 253 (lmao woops?)

Date you got together? April 24th 2020. We are... a very new couple and we’re still finding our way with what we have together. It feels like stepping into shoes you’ve worn a thousand times before, but the soles are different; there’s new marks left behind and we’re finding out what they mean slowly but surely. We have lots of love between us and we’re letting it guide us.

Favorite personality trait? I love Pat for all that he is, but if I have to pick just one thing then it’s his nature. He feels like... you know when you lay down outside on the grass or the beach and there’s a gentle breeze in your hair and the sun is warm on your face and your eyes are shut and you feel yourself smiling because this is why you’re alive, for moments like this? That’s how Pat feels to me, all the time. 

Favorite physical trait? His smile. I almost said his eyes but, oh... that smile makes flowers bloom in my heart. I would die to keep that smile on his face. He’s so beautiful and those dimples and his eyes, I... he’s so beautiful. 🥺 

Couple song We don’t have one yet. I’m still looking for the perfect one. I often listen to I want you to want me from the soundtrack when I want to feel him close by, just because it makes me think of him, so maybe that one? 

Pet peeves... He likes to leave his switchblade open and lying in random places and it freaks me out. I don’t even like kitchen knives near me and there he is, leaving it stabbed into the coffee table pinning a note for me to the surface. Sure, it’s convenient to just grab his knife out of his pocket and it’s a good way to get my attention, the silver glinting of the blade in the light of the room, but still.

Favorite outfit on them? As much as I adore those leather trousers, it has to be the dark grey shirt with the chain poking out... just him putting it on in the morning and the cold metal against his skin contrasted with the heat on my tongue... *ahem*

Favorite meal? Pat and I eat separately; I have coeliacs disease and Pat’s lucky enough to not have any food allergies so I always make us separate meals. I make his first, scrub down the kitchen and then I do my own food. Pat likes the tuna pasta bake I make; the golden crust of cheese on the top is his favourite and I always give him the corner bits; he likes the cronch. He always says I can just make one meal which is gluten free but I don’t feel right doing that to someone who doesn’t share my dietary requirements.

Early bird or night owl? Pat’s definitely a night owl, so long late night conversations where the two of us lay down in bed together are very common. I stay up every night for him to come home from the pub and then he showers (no dirty sweaty bodies in my bed, thank you) and we cuddle up in bed and just... talk. Sometimes we just lay there listening to music. Neither of us especially like mornings and it’s not unusual to wake up at noon or afterwards 😂

Snorer or sleep talker? Pat snores very lightly most of the time but when he’s deeply, deeply asleep, he sounds like a chainsaw lmao. I like that, though, because even though it makes the bed shake a bit, I know that he’s there with me and it eases my fears of the dark. I have my nightlights but I don’t need music because I know he’s there for me and he’ll keep me safe. Sometimes he’ll mutter unintelligibly as he rolls over and it’s always right in my ear and I have to try not to jump 😂

Do you have any pets together? Not yet! 💕 I wanna get some cats with him in the future; they’re such precious creatures. Pat wants a dog but between him and a dog I’d never get any free or alone time 😂 and I’m protective of both of those things.

Pet names! (Both from them and yours for them) I call him Pat mostly, but other times it’s “sunshine”, “baby boy��� for when he needs comforting, “angel”, “darling”, “love” and he knows I’m angry/mad if I call him Patrick ksksksk it gets his attention so quickly. 

Pat calls me “sweetheart”, “angel”, “love” (saved for when he’s being sarcastic, it’s like a hint I need to Do Something Soon) “honey”, “girlie” and by my name when he thinks he has to.

How often do you fight? Not... very often. We have playful banter more than anything. We do fight, that’s normal and healthy, but we try to talk things out calmly rather than go at it and risk saying something we can’t take back. Words have greater power than people know, and where the sword cuts and forgets does the tree fall and remember.

What starts fights? For me, Pat gets angry at my blatant lack of self-care and it angers him to see me treat myself as I do (or don’t, more accurately) but to shower others in love. He doesn’t understand why and it frustrates him. I struggle to explain myself properly so then I get frustrated and it can lead into a whole thing lmao the tears start when he raises his voice so he usually calms down pretty quickly. And as I said, we prefer to speak it through calmly so we’ll go calm down separately and meet in the middle later on. He knows he’s forgiven when I throw myself at him and smother him in kisses.

For Pat, I don’t get angry very often or very easily but when I do, it’s because he was out for so long that I started thinking he’d died or was injured or something and he didn’t text me to let me know and though I don’t want to control him I also don’t enjoy staying up worrying he’s dying in an alley somewhere. So when he gets home I’m a bit... colder in how I greet him and then Pat gets defensive and eesh 😬 In the end, he’ll sigh and I’ll apologise and he’ll get irritated and we cuddle and talk it out. I’ll know I’m forgiven when he kisses my forehead.

Who apologizes first? Me. I will always apologise first, even if I was right. I cannot handle any kind of conflict or confrontation and due to things which have occured in the past I will always just... take it. I’ll just apologise, and get it over with, and hope it all smooths over quickly. Pat gently tells me off when I do this, “No, Erika. I’m the one apologising, not you.” and I usually get upset so we have some cuddle therapy - our touches speak louder and more concisely than we ever could. 

Big spoon or little spoon? asdfghjkl; we switch depending on who needs or wants what! Whomever needs comforting, the other is the big spoon and on the times we both need comforting or we just can’t decide who is either spoon, we lay facing each other so that we’re both the little and the big spoon at the same time! Problem solved! <3 

Dom or sub? Pat’s a switch; it depends on what either of us needs the most in any given moment. For the most part he’s dominant; I can be really shy sometimes and I have no idea what I’m doing with anything, so he tends to take the lead... before we realise that we’d rather walk into undiscovered territory together, hand in hand the way it should be.

What are their kisses like? They’re somehow comforting but intense. He kisses me so tenderly it can make me cry but it’s so passionate that it leaves me breathless. He commands my lips against his and he both takes and gives in equal measure. Pat is a passionate, compassionate soul and it comes through every time he kisses me; like he, too, is coming home.  He never kisses just once - just one sentence can hold a multitude of kisses. And the ghost of his lips against my skin lingers for hours after he’s gone home. He’s always with me, in one or another.

What do they smell like? Apples, leather, whiskey, stale cigarette smoke... and something spicy but so Patrick. If I concentrate, I can find it when I nuzzle into his neck.

What are their hugs like? Coming home. He always hugs me so tightly that I can feel those lost parts of me click back into place. I’m a known squeezer and he playfully grunts in my ear and it makes me smile and he squeezes back and it makes me giggle. Pat sighs happily and drops his head down into the crook of my neck and he rocks me from side to side... I’ve been known to fall asleep standing up in the safety of his embrace. He’s my home, nothing and no one make me feel as safe as he does. 

Who is more protective? I think we’re both as protective as each other. I have a mean streak when my loved ones are threatened or in any kind of danger and I’m not afraid to stand up for Pat against rumours, even if he’s not with me at the time. I hate confrontation but for my loved ones, I’d walk straight through fire if I had to. Similarly, Pat gets easily defensive and seems to have a bit of a temper as well so if anything happened to me, he’d get protective. I also... feel like we protect each other from our own selves, sometimes. I have some Bad Habits and so does Pat and neither of us are afraid to tell the other when we’re hurting ourselves and need to stop... like right now, it’s way past midnight and I’m yawning every few minutes but I’m pushing through to write this. Pat’s frowning and wanting to take my laptop away.

Interested in children? Pat might be... when he’s older. But he knows my stance on this topic and we never talk about it. 

Who needs the most TLC when sick? Pat. OMG he tries to work through it, to walk it off, but I can see. I do the same thing, I always pretend I’m not sick until it’s so obvious that I just can’t hide it. Pat’s a natural caregiver, he’s so used to taking care of others and that’s exactly why I deliberately go overboard when I take care of him. I buy every kind of medicine specific to his illness (and I dip into my savings but shush, don’t tell!), and I make him soup and I’m there for him and I make it known that I love him. I’m usually squeamish with sickness, even when it’s my own, but for Pat I push through and I try because he deserves nothing less than the best of everything I can give him.

Who says ‘I love you’ first? Mmm.... I think Pat said it first. He has more confidence in what we share together than I do and one day when I came through with his favourite meal and I had my own one, I sat down and he said, “I love you, d’you know that?” I just blinked at him a few times in shock and he said it again... and again... and again until I just had to put my food down so that I could grab that beautiful face and swallow his next words; he is... ethereal and I’ll never understand why he loves me but I’m so, so glad that he does! I said it back, of course I did, and his smile was brighter than the sun.

Which of you is more accident prone? Meeeee ~ omg lmao I always have bruises I don’t even remember getting. Pat gets frowny because I sit there poking them hoping the slight pain will trigger a memory of how I got the bruise, but I rarely remember. I’m forever bouncing off door frames, walking into tables, tripping over my own feet while I’m stood still... Pat finds it funny and sometimes when I actually trip he’ll say something like, “I know you fell for me, but, ah - did you have to show me, too?” or “How’s the world from down there?” and once... once, he laughed and laid down next to me on the floor and we just stared up at the ceiling and we just... were for a time. It’s a memory I cherish.

Bed hog? OMG me, hands down. Pat tends to lay on his back and I put my head on his chest so that I can listen to his heartbeat or I nuzzle into the crook of his neck, but it’s not unusual for me to wake up with my duvet on the floor and the sheets all over the place. I’ve been known to actually kick in my sleep and sometimes I wake up with bruises I don’t recall getting. Pat wraps himself around me like a koala when I move around too much because a) shitty mattress and b) I drink 18 coffees a day and in this way, I’m able to fall asleep quicker and in a more relaxed way. If I fall asleep relaxed, I move around far less when I’m asleep. I don’t know how Pat figured that out and he won’t tell me, either.

Who loves the other the most? We’re a very new couple and we’re finding our way with each other and our relationship, but I do think that I love Pat a little bit more than he loves me. But that’s okay; statistically, one is always loved a bit more than the other. I have trouble believing we’re even compatible because ??? look at him ??? and then look at me ??? and it drives Pat insane.

[subtext-bycalvinklein]

[you have probably already seen the first half of this because I am dumb and I posted it without making sure it was saved in full. I apparently am REALLY bad at making Tumblr work. Not that I am surprised by that, but still.]

Hi, I know, long time no see, I’m still a tinhat-wearing garbage-can who has no idea how to properly use Tumblr and English still isn’t my first language so kindly forgive any mistakes, but I’ve been on a good omens lockdown for the past two months and unfortunately I have Big Thinky Thoughts

The point is- book!Aziraphale&Crowley are very different from TV!Aziraphale and Crowley. But not in the sense that they’re different characters: they are the very same characters you see in the book, it’s just… They act differently. I’ve spent the last fortnight turning in bed, asking myself WHAT made them feel so different from the book and WHY it was. And then it hit me: the TV show characters operate under a system of beliefs that the book characters have already overcome. This makes sense, because while the book characters to me feel more settled and “static”, in the same way two old dudes who are just waiting for retirement have already grown into their skin and mostly know who they are, TV!A&C feel a lot younger to me, and we have the pleasure of watching their character as they develop, as they become more and more aware of who they are and what they want. Because THAT ultimately is the point: neither of them is really, completely AWARE of the point they’ve “gone native” up until the last episode.

I think it’s way easier to see in Aziraphale: in the book, he doesn’t shy away from bad deeds, he seems to acknowledge his “”“moral greyness”“” and the fact that his loyalty to Crowley overrides his loyalty to heaven -and that this isn’t something he is supposed to do, but his loyalty to the Arrangement is way more profound than his acquiescence towards heaven. His identity is not just formed around the fact that he is an angel: that’s just part of it, and that’s what makes it easier for him to be aware of his “bit of a bastard”. It doesn’t come as a surprise, for him, just as the spark of goodness isn’t surprising for Crowley. It’s just something they avoided talking about because, well, if anyone else had heard them, it wouldn’t have ended well. (But we’ll come back to this later on.) TV!Aziraphale, instead, seems to base almost all of his identity (what he consciously decides it’s his identity) solely on the fact that he is an angel: he HAS to be good, he HAS to do what is right. All those things he does that he knows are frowned upon in Heaven are quickly discarded, considered outliers, because they cause such great cognitive dissonance he cannot bear it. At first, he seems to be starting to question the Great Plan, but around the time Crowley comes asking for the holy water¹, he seems to realise fully how dangerous everything they’re doing is, and sweeps all of his doubts under a big, heavy rug of denial. Because it’s either that, or being wiped off the face of the Earth (and the whole creation) or completely losing his identity by Falling (because he wouldn’t be an angel anymore, and he’s based on this facet of himself like 99% of his identity), which is A Huge Effing Deal, especially since it’s the narrative of himself he’s been building for almost six millennia. So, Aziraphale has put in place a system of beliefs which says: God created Angels. God is perfect, and since The Almighty created Angels to be good, they are good. Therefore, I am Good, and I cannot be anything else. Does this take into account that “Good” is a broad definition that changes with the point of view? Nope. It doesn’t take into account, either, the fact that Heaven and Hell are, in truth, just names for sides, and not that different at all. Another mistake Aziraphale does it’s an attributional error: he thinks that everything good he does it’s because he’s an angel, and therefore supposed to be good, and expects other angels to be like him, when often it’s really Aziraphale *as an individual* who does Good Deeds.

Belief systems aren’t inherently Bad: they give us fixed points² in the sea of change, and it’s vital for us to have them. Belief systems become Bad the moment they don't serve their purpose anymore: that is, when instead of being helpful, they hold you back from understanding, from exploring possibilities. And that's what happens to Aziraphale and, to some extent, Crowley: they both cling to their beliefs even tho they're shown time and time again that what they think it's wrong, and they choose to cling to them because the alternative is to float in the sea of the unknown.

It is only once Aziraphale confronts the falseness of his beliefs (the moment he faces the Angels and they tell him they won't prevent the Apocalypse) that he is able, once and for all, to eradicate his belief system and integrate in a new sense of Self all of those traits he usually denied about himself.

What about Crowley, then? His belief system looks a liiittle bit more grounded in reality... Except not really. While, yes, he seems less bound to Hell, and justly distrustful, he doesn't fare all that better. It's just more tricky to recognise, because it's more about Crowley himself than it is about heaven or hell.

Book!Crowley, since the beginning, is literally a very tired, very old, very uncool entity who is just waiting to retire from a job he hates to spend his time tending to his plants and doting on his adversary-slash-bestfriend-slash-husband. He is pretty much aware of the fact that, while he loves mischief, he doesn't like actively harming anyone, is really repulsed by the idea of hurting deeply someone. He knows this, and knows Aziraphale knows this. He just doesn't like stating it out in the open because he is a paranoid bastard afraid anyone will overhear them -and rightly so, I might add, because, as stated beforehand, there will be Consequences. When Aziraphale tells him he is, after all, nice, he's resigned, because being nice doesn't make being a demon very easy. But that trait is already stark clear in his Self-image, and he acts accordingly.

TV!Crowley, tho? The moment he is dubbed "nice" literally explodes in anger.

This is not about "telling the whole blessed world", this is about Crowley not having the faintest idea he has the spark of goodness inside himself. He has convinced himself that since he Fell, since he is a demon, he must be Bad. And this, imho, is reflected in the way he takes credit for the Really Bad Stuff humans have done, as well: he is trying so bad to uphold the image of a Big Bad Demon, he tries to rejoice when people do bad stuff, even though it's clear he doesn't like it one bit.

And that's because if his and Aziraphale's belief system have one thing in common, is their trust in God: if the Almighty cast him out of heaven, there must have been a reason, and that reason is that, deep down, he isn't good. Crowley's self image is built all around that, as much as his acts of kindness probably end up mislabeled as selfishness³. And that is because he cannot accept that his Fall, something that still plagues him after six millennia, that has left him with such a scar that his plants take the brunt of it, was just over "asking questions". The punishment doesn't fit the "crime", and it's difficult, if not impossible, for the human, or occult, or ethereal mind to accept that sometimes events so painful happen for no reason.

It's imperative, then, for the dismantling of his disfunctional belief system, that he confronts the truth: there is very little inherently Evil within himself. And that moment occurs when a desperate Crowley talks to God Herself (Themselves? I'm not sure if the Almighty uses they/them or she/her, sorry) and admits that the only wrong thing he did was asking questions. From then on, he slowly becomes able to face his own spark of goodness, to admit it in his own Self-image.

In conclusion: while it makes sense that the book characters had their moment of acknowledgement in the middle of the action, as it's a truth they already knew from the beginning and, since they were about to face Consequences anyway, they might as well voice it aloud, it is just as apt for the TV characters to say it at the very end of the story, because for them it's a starting point to the rest of their existences: they finally fully know who they are and what they want, and they will start the rest of the journey with that knowledge.

Thanks for coming to my TED talk, some of the swearing is censored not because I disapprove of it but because I don't want Tumblr to decide it shouldn't be posted in the tag and, as we've previously established, I'm really bad at this.

Footnotes and be thankful this is just the work of an evening of procrastination because I'm known for "making metas that require a bibliography" but I didn't have the time to check my social psy books

1: I might expand on this someday, but I actually have Thoughts on the whole "Aziraphale Being An Heaven-Abiding Angel" thing, and how it heavily relates to Crowley and Aziraphale's dynamic; the holy water break-up in the 19th century seemed a good milestone for the moment

2. Yes, I was thinking of the whole "fixed point in a changing age" thing from His last bow, and yes, my eyes got misty while writing it and I don't have any allergies to blame it onto. My brain is an attic and it's full of ACD Canon quotes and by this point I couldn't get rid of them if I wanted to.

3. This is heavy tinhatting but I honestly feel like he often tries to pass off his kindness as "I like this and I want this so I have to do something". The clearest example is: he feels that the whole world shouldn't be destroyed because it's unfair? Surely it's just because he likes living here, not because he cares, pfffftttttt

*saunters vaguely back to studying*

[bifinmediasres]

Sneak peek of ch 12

A mirthless laugh fell from Zeb's lips, "And you know what? It's not gettin' any easier. Might not ever, because I can't change what happened. But I can make sure it doesn't happen again, and by the Ashla I'm gonna." 

With that Zeb closed the gap between them and moved past Alexsandr shoving him roughly. Alexsandr was so surprised by the exchange and the following impact, he couldn't brace himself properly. He ended up flat on his back in the dirt with the wind knocked out of him. Looking up half a moment later, he saw Ezra and Sabine standing over him. He continued to lay there blinking slowly as they knelt down to help him sit up.

"I know we're doing that whole no swearing thing with the baby coming and all," Ezra started gripping Alex's hand tightly as he pulled him into a sitting position, "but what the sith was that about?"

Alexsandr grinned, "I won't tell Hera you swore as long as you keep quiet about that little interaction, deal?" He turned to Sabine who had busied herself dusting his jacket off and brushing his hair, "Dear girl," he smiled taking her hands in his, "Darling Bine, I'm fine, seriously, thank you."

She pursed her lips in frustration, "Nothing about that was fine Alex. Zeb has a serious problem."

Alexsandr sighed, "I'm afraid you're right. And I think his problem is me."

Ezra shook his head, "I don't think so. You heard him, he clearly thinks what happened is somehow his fault."

Alexsandr shook his head, "But that's simply not true. Unless he thinks...Karabast!" Alexsandr's eyes widened, "Garazeb thinks the baby being half Lasat caused my miscarriage." He reached out to both Ezra and Sabine somewhat frantically, "Help me up, quickly! I need to prove him wrong, he has to know he's not at fault. Oh Garazeb,beautiful fool Lasat."

Sabine and Ezra shared confused looks as they hauled Alex to his feet. Ezra asked, "Exactly how do you plan on proving him wrong?" 

"For starters I'll go back to all the research you did months ago," Alexsandr replied, "There has to be something in there I can at least use as a start." 

Straightening his jacket Alexsandr moved to take a step forward only to have his right leg collapse under him and throw him to the ground again. Pain surged through the entire limb unlike any he'd felt before. Fighting to stay conscious he tried to speak only to have a moan escape his lips. Ezra and Sabine were back at his side in an instant and he didn't hesitate to grip both hands he was offered. 

"Alex, what happened," Sabine cried, "What's wrong?"

Gritting his teeth against the pain he answered, "Feels like my leg is broken all over again. It just went out from under me." He cut off in a groan instinctively curling in on himself.

Sabine moved closer pillowing his head in her lap. Turning to Ezra she ordered, "Go and get a medic, explain what's happened. I'll stay with him." Ezra nodded before heading off leaving Sabine to do her best to soothe Alexsandr, running her fingers through his hair and rubbing his back. 

A short time later a familiar voice cut the haze of Alexsandr's pain, "Well if it isn't my favorite frequent flyer." Alexsandr cracked an eye open to see the medic he'd dealt with in the past approaching with a repulsorlift. As he was lifted off the ground he attempted a smirk, "Remind me of your name kid."

The medic laughed, "It's Whil, Captain Kallus sir."

Alexsandr nodded stiffly, "Alex will suffice I assure you. Always seem to be around when I need you, good man Whil." And with that he promptly lost consciousness. 

A short time later Alexsandr had been brought into a room in the medbay. Bev was looking over a scan of his leg, her brow furrowing more and more every second. Sabine and Ezra were sat on either side of Alexsandr's bed each still holding one of his hands. They waited quietly for Bev to speak. 

"I don't think this should even be possible," the doctor breathed.

"Is that like this is so great it shouldn't even be possible?" Ezra asked hopefully. One look at her face gave him his answer, "Shab," he murmured, turning to Alex who remained unconscious in the bed.

"Alexsandr's leg is broken," Bev began slowly, "There are several breaks, two in the lower leg, one in each bone and one in the femur." She paused and allowed that to sink in before asking, "What was he doing just before this happened?"

Ezra chimed in before Sabine could stop him, "Nothing! He'd been sitting on the ground and I pulled him to his feet. He tried to take a step and collapsed."

Bev nodded, her mind obviously working quickly, "And he'd been sitting on the ground because?"

Ezra's eyes went wide, "Huh? Oh he, heh he fell when uh…," he dropped his gaze mumbling, "When Zeb pushed him down."

"Alexsandr and Captain Orrelios fought?" Bev asked her voice rising, "He's not been cleared for that sort of thing!"

Sabine jumped in at this point, "Ma'am they weren't sparring, Zeb got angry and shoved him."

"Sabine!" Ezra yelled.

"What would you have me do? Lie?" Sabine  cried indignantly, "These are our friends Ezra, our family! I can't just sit by and watch them hurt each other!" Sabine sat back wiping a tear from her eye. Suddenly she felt her other hand being gripped. Looking over she saw Alex smiling softly at her with tears in his own eyes. 

"Thank you Bine," Alexsandr whispered, "I appreciate that more than you can know." Turning to Bev he cleared his throat roughly and addressed the doctor, "Bev am I on a terribly large dose of pain medication?"

She nodded, "Not the highest possible but I thought it appropriate given the circumstances."

Alexsandr sighed, "I was afraid of that."

Bev turned back to his chart asking, "Is there a problem? You don't have any drug allergies we're aware of."

Alexsandr shook his head, "Not allergies per se, more intolerances." When she didn't seem to understand he clarified, "By and large pain medication has no effect on me other than clouding my judgement or knocking me out completely. But as far as treating the pain, nothing works."

She crossed her arms and stared at him head on, "Alexsandr are you...as far as you know, intolerant to any other types of medication?"

He laughed quietly before it ended in a groan, "Medics on the ships I served with always commented I didn't take to Bacta very well. One even said something to the effect that it might stop working on me one day."

Bev stood quietly for a moment before muttering, "Welcome to one day."

Alexsandr attempted to sit up straighter only to cry out when that caused the pain in his leg to spike, "Bev are you actually telling me my leg re broke itself?"

She nodded again, "In both areas."

"Well that at least makes sense," Alexsandr reasoned, "The break I got on Bahryn was clean across both bones."

"And your femur?" Bev asked, "There's no mention of that happening anywhere in the medical history we have on you." She'd been looking at his chart again but when Bev looked back up at Alexsandr he'd gone completely white. "Alex? Are you alright?"

Ezra and Sabine had moved closer to Alex when they saw the color leave his face so they heard his reply before Bev, "Onderon. Saw Gerrera's Lasat mercenary broke my leg and left me for dead after he killed my platoon on Onderon."

Apologies I haven't finished this chapter yet and I'm not sure when I will. Tell me what you think of this and if you haven't started The Continued Adventures of the Warrior and the Child, go check it out! Also, if you want me to start a tag list for fic updates let me know. Until next time dear readers!

[cutiecrates]

September 2019 Lucky Treat!

Well here we are guys, finally! As it turns out, I was supposed to get this on my birthday (the 15th) and it came, but at the time I was taking a nap because I was gone most of the day and I felt really tired when I got home. So they showed up around 6pm but nobody answered the door, and since I had to sign for it they left.

This isn’t the first time this has happened, I somehow miss foreign packages I need to sign for <_< my mom and I argue over this every time, and as I expected it didn’t come the next day. I wasted 2-3 hours stalking the front door and not leaving the room at all for anything. So yesterday morning we picked it up, but it just wasn’t a good day to try to post this.

It’s also the reason why my next review hasn’t been posted but you can expect to see that later today. So for now, let’s focus on this!

As a reminder I won’t be reviewing these items due to them being sent for free. I’ll just be showing them and giving my opinions.

(Note the Kawaii Box I’m supposed to review in the background...)

Okay, so as you can see this is exactly how it arrived. I initially assumed it would be one large box, so I was actually relieved to see it consisted of 2 medium-sized boxes. Both were light weight and easy to carry.

Japan Haul, for anyone unfamiliar with the name or new to the blog is the online store belonging to the branding that makes Tokyo Treat, YumeTwins, NMNL. You can find a lot of the box items, as well as some unique items on there, which is why I try to recommend you check it out if you’re ever interested in the items from those boxes. There wasn’t any special papers or anything in the box, but each of them had an “order summery sheet“ and a sheet of protective Styrofoam on the bottom.

Before I begin I wanted to mention that usually there’s a “value“ depicted in the information or picture for the Lucky Treat, but this one didn’t have it. On each box it says their values were 1000yen, so combined I think that might be $200.00? I don’t know much about foreign currency so don’t quote me on it.

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Mew Plushie & Vulpix Plushie

Anyone who reads this blog knows that I am OBSESSED with Vulpix/Rokon- it was the reason I just had to have this box, and it hasn’t left my side since I opened the one it was inside. It was true love from the day we met; I have various Vulpix items, including a smaller plush from a KFC promotion when I was a kid, a couple toy items, stickers, coloring book pages, and several TCG cards in both English and Japanese~

About a year or so back they were featuring Vulpix (normal and Alola) in Japanese merch. I’ve always wanted to visit Japan, but that was probably when I wanted it the most.

The plush is pretty big (although I know in comparison to the Mew it doesn’t look it), it’s the perfect lap size~ It’s also very soft, with fluffy material for the hair and tails that is a combination of rose swirls and tufts. The tails are one solid piece with lines between them to give them the feel of individual pieces, but the curled portions are separated. I love love love love love it~

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So as you can tell, Vulpix isn’t the only plush we got in this months box :3 in fact we got a handful more to go- including this really big Mew Plush. Currently this is the second biggest Pokemon Plush I own, it’s a few inches taller than the piplup I won at the fair a few years back, but smaller than the Meowth I got when I was a kid.

This plush is made from the same fabric as the vulpix but lacks the fluffy hair accents. The sewn details are perfect, it’s feet are properly stuffed and a little floppy, while its super-long tail is sewn to the back, so I assume it would dangle if I cut the strings. He’s great for hugs.

Flaaffy Plushie & Mini Eeevee Plushie

We got 2 more Pokemon plushies, including this very small Flaaffy plush~ It’s like the Vulpix in which it has normal plush fabric, and slightly softer fabric for the wool on its neck and head. It’s stitching and details are great, it’s a really good quality plushie.

According to its tag it’s part of a Pokemon Fit line. I never heard of it so I don’t really know what it contains- but I think it’s adorable how out of the 4 Pokemon it’s normally the biggest, and here it’s the smallest. It fits in the palm perfectly. 

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Our final Pokemon plushie is an adorable, fluffy Eevee. I really like Eeevee and its eeveelutions, and I really liked playing Let’s Go Eeevee! so this was a lovely surprise; now if only I had some items to make it match mine~

It’s well made and very cute and sweet looking, and according to the tag this came out last year- probably for Let’s Go Eeevee :P It’s a big bigger than Flaaffy, but still fits in the palm nicely. I can’t decide if I like its fluffy neck fur or huge tail more~

Kopiyo Friends Cushion

This is our last plush-based item in the box, an adorable cushion themed after an adorable birdie. From Kopiyo Friends there was a variety of various birds you could get in this set, but for Lucky Treat it was this specific... parakeet? It looks like the ones I used to have when I was little, so I’ve been calling it that.

 It’s a good size for a pillow (head, lap, legs, etc) and it’s stuffed enough to feel marshmallowy squishy, and it stretches a little bit. It was very comfortable, and it makes for a nice secondary pillow you can cuddle with.

Solgaleo Figure & Mewtwo Mug

If you guys couldn’t tell this box was almost entirely Pokemon oriented :3 and to go with our plushies, we have a Solgaleo figurine from the latest handheld Pokemon games (until sword and shield comes out anyway). It’s from the Moncolle-EX collection of Pokemon figures... and that’s pretty much all I can say other than it’s paint quality is great. I’m not sure about the figure quality itself because I won’t be removing it from the packaging. I might give it to my friend, who bought this version of the game. 

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Now this next item goes with the Mew I got, and I think they were both made to celebrate the upgraded/updated Mewtwo Strikes Back movie. I know my picture quality of this sucks, but I was kind of on a time crunch at this point... and by that I mean, I had cats going crazy in the background trying to get in my way and play with the boxes <_<

The mug has a very detailed, mood-setting picture for the movie. I have to admit it’s not really my style (CUTIEcrates probably says it all right?), but I do like it as a Pokemon fan and I’ll find a use for it.

Gengar Mask & Pokemon Memo

Now this is an item perfect for this time of the year, as well as when I clean or when the allergies hit (where was it during summer when I needed it?!). I did have one mask from a really old DokiDoki, but I have no clue where that went.

I love Gengar (at this rate it’s easier just to say every Pokemon in this box are ones I like, nearly), so this is a cute, funny little item. It’s a nice, padded mask with two layers of filtered-like fabric over the part covering your nose and/or mouth. I’m not really sure if they serve a purpose (maybe filtering dust or scent or something?) but they have a nice clean smell.

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We can’t forget the stationery items now :3 and to go with all of our Pokemon goodness we have a notepad with 4 sets of 8 different designed papers! They easily tear apart and come from the Pokemon World Market series, featuring the various Pokemon from various regions hanging out and having fun.

Pokemon World Market Re-Ment & Colorful Ramune Blind Bag

I’m assuming the Pokemon World Market is a current series/collection :3 because next we have an adorable re-ment set. I miss getting re-ments in the boxes, so this was very exciting. Like the notepad, these were based on various regions foods, Pokemon, and activities. Such as the one I got, the Kanto region, having a bike, a Poke Flute, and a Pokemon Doll. Each one also includes a map of the specific region.

If you were curious, here are what the others had: 

2. Squirtle Watering can, toy, milk, manju/dorayaki?

3. Torchic, Rice cracker, Pokeblock storage, and what looks like an envelope and ticket.

4. Piplup, helmet, shovel, what looks like chocolate, and Poffins.

5. A Pokedoll, a ferris wheel toy, and ice cream.

6. Pokedoll, food, skates, and the girl trainers hat.

7. A book or magazine with Snorlax, a toucan measuring piece(?), a bowl or fruit in a box, and an Alola Exeggutor pen with base.

Now compared to the others, mine feels pretty simple. But the detail on each piece is amazing; I could look at re-ments all day~ I really wish I could display mine, but I just don’t have a safe place or any room for them at the time. As much as I think a re-ment subscription box would be fun, I’m kinda glad they don’t have one of those :P I’d be in trouble.

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Now, this is a Tokyo Treat special box, of course there has to be a couple food items~ and first up is a Pokemon, Wobbuffet bling bag candy tin, which features 6 different designs that feature Wobbuffet interacting with various Pokemon. They’re all so cute!

But lookie lookie, did you notice which one I got~? The special mystery one :D I’m not sure if that was intentional or not, but I thought it was a fun additional surprise.

There are 3 flavors of candy, including a blue ramune/soda, yellow... I think lemon (but it could be banana? It doesn’t taste like it though), and a pinkish-red one that I couldn’t identify. It might be cola, because it tastes like a nasty cola Japanese candy DIY I tried a couple years back- one of the only cola flavors I didn’t like. But the candies are pretty good, even that weird might be cola one.

Pokemon Nori Chips & Dragonball Super Candies

Given the few Non-Pokemon items in the box, I was surprised to see this Dragonball themed candy. These come in a tin-like piece similar to old-style Japanese fruity hard candy. I’ve seen them several times but never had them before- and let me tell you, it’s a picnic trying to open these! You’ll definitely want a pen or scissors or a cornered object or something, nails are not recommended though. But maybe mine are just wimpy. The good news is that you don’t have to worry about them spilling.

Anyway, these are just cute orange spherical candies with a simple orange-ish flavoring to them. It’s not overly sweet or tangy, so it’s good if you like a mild candy.

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To kick up the snacks, we also have some curry-flavored Nori Chips/Seaweed. They come in this adorable Pokemon tin featuring Pikachu and some other impressive pokemon, and the inside is lined by pleated paper. The tin is 71.0 calories.

The seaweed/nori is thin, but in 2 layers, with curry flavored powder/substance between them. If you don’t like the taste of curry or seaweed you probably won’t like these, but if you do then you will. I actually really like eating seaweed as a snack, and curry is pretty yummy so I really like them x3 they’re not spicy, but it seems to pick up heat the more you eat of them. They’re also very crunchy.

Pokemon Tote

We also have some fun apparel, including a Pokemon Tote by the brand Outdoor Products, which has been in business since 1973 apparently. It includes a rainbow variety of colorful Pokemon from a few different generations making a variety of poses. I think there’s 2 per Pokemon. The bag also features a velcro strap to hold it shut, and it’s a medium-big size, so it would come in handy for a lot of stuff.

Pokemon Mini Bath Towel

To go with the Pokemon World Market collection, we also have this adorable and colorful mini-bath towel featuring all the different regions Pokemon having a fun time playing and checking things out at their respective hangouts x3

Despite the name, this thing couldn’t be fit into a single picture without losing a lot of detail, so I had to settle for this. It’s very soft fabric, I’m very eager to begin using it because it’ll go great with that set of Pokemon wash clothes I got a few months back.

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Okay guys, that will be it for now! What did you think, was this Lucky Treat good? I really wish the other subscribers could have won this too because it was very fun and exciting- I still can’t believe i won it!

However, I did notice an item is missing. There was also supposed to be a pair of Pokemon Socks that I didn’t find in either box. I checked multiple times, and I couldn’t find anything to say the item was removed from the box, so I don’t know what happened. I messaged them about it, but because this was entirely free, I don’t actually mind the mistake. It happens... of course, if it had been my Vulpix then heads would roll.

Just kidding :P Anyway, I’ll keep you guys updated on that. Until later, remember to hug a Pokemon!

[pickalilywrites]

Hi Lily! Recently I've been reading the Junior High manga, which made me think of a pairing the Junior High anime made me ship. So, could I get something involving Marco x Ilse? Please and thank you!

love u

The Prince’s Secret 

MaruIlse. High School AU. 

1748 words. 

Buy me a ko-fi!

Ilse has observed many students in her time as school reporter, but no one has managed to intrigue her quite like Marco Bodt has. It’s not that she finds him particularly interesting. In fact, he might be the must be the most ordinary person she has ever seen. He’s smart enough to be one of the top students in the class, but he doesn’t rank as highly as Armin Arlert, the human calculator. He’s charming and charismatic enough to become the class president, but he’s not too loud or arrogant like Eren Jaeger or Jean Kirstein. Even his looks, while above average, aren’t quite as slick or cool like the Galliard brothers or other boys, and yet the girls in school are head over heels for Marco Bodt. She’s not quite sure what her classmates find so alluring about him. She’s been watching him for some time, but nothing about him stands out. He comes to school on time, he participates in class, he does his classroom duties, and then he returns home. Of course, the fact that he’s so uninteresting is exactly why Ilse is so interested in studying him. Everybody has their secrets, and she’s determined to find out his.

She watches him closely, making sure to stay hidden at all times. If she sticks close by, she’s sure that she’ll have at least something to write about him. The best people have the worst secrets, and she’s sure the school paper will explode once she finds out what dastardly thing Marco Bodt is hiding behind his perfect façade. She can just imagine the screams and cries of outrage that will erupt once she publishes his secret. Will it be a terrible habit? A dark and tragic backstory? Perhaps even a secret underground crime ring that the freckled prince is involved in? Whatever it is, Ilse is itching to discover it and fill her notebook with whatever dirt she can get on him.

Weeks pass and the notebook stays blank. She doesn’t even write down a single word regarding Marco Bodt. In all the days she’s watched him, he hasn’t done even one interesting thing. It’s just the same every day: he goes to school, does his work, and then he goes home after. Ilse hasn’t even seen him deviate from this schedule once. It only took her a few days to memorize his itinerary by heart. She’s confident that even if she blindfolded herself she could follow him around the school with ease. In a desperate attempt to find out more, she had even tried shadowing him over the weekend, but it was even more disappointing than when she was following him at school. Although the antics that his friends (namely Jean and Eren) had gotten into were amusing, Marco had been quite to deescalate any situation that was beginning to get out of hand, and thus Ilse was left with practically nothing to write about.

“He can’t be that perfect,” Ilse mumbles to herself. She clicks her pen repeatedly, chewing at her bottom lip as she stares at the blank pages in her notebook. She had really thought that she could get a great story out of Marco Bodt, but he’s a terrible subject. The only bad thing he’s ever done is force her to do the same bland school stories for two weeks in a row, but that’s not something she can write about either. She glances at her watch and sighs when she sees it’s the time for her to watch Marco walk out of school. “If he doesn’t do anything today, I’m going to murder him,” Ilse says with a dark expression. Despite knowing that she won’t see anything out of the ordinary today, she turns towards the school entrance to watch the class president head home.

She hadn’t bothered to bring her binoculars this time – she had stopped after the first few days – so she has to squint to see properly. A branch from the bush she’s crouching behind tickles her nose, and she frowns, pushing it out of her way. It’s uncomfortable to hide behind the bushes like a stalker, but this will be the last time she’ll have to follow Marco, so decides to bear with it for now even though her knees are killing her and she’s sure that she’ll have to pull twigs out of her hair later.

As expected, Marco is strolling leisurely along the path, flawlessly whistling a song that she doesn’t know. He doesn’t even pull out his phone to look at his notifications or text his friends. He’s one of those people who actually takes the time to relish in the nature around him, but of course he never sees Ilse. He walks right past her, oblivious, and she’s sure he’s going to keep on walking until she sees that there’s a dog headed straight toward him. The dog, a fluffy white puppy that can hardly be a year old, runs right to Marco as if he’s its owner. Ilse is sure that Marco will bend down to catch the puppy, pet it a bit, and then send it on its way home, but what he actually does surprises her.

Instead of kneeling to greet the dog as any human being would do, Marco stiffens up, backing up from the dog. He holds his hands out as if to warn it not to take a step further, but the dog is too young and excited to notice. It barks enthusiastically at him, jumping towards him and expecting to land in his arms only to fall on the ground because Marco had run behind a tree.

“What?” Ilse whispers. Damn, she should have brought her camera with her. She wants to watch some more and see what more of this story she can collect from this school paper, but the dog is chasing Marco around the tree now. It’s a little pathetic to watch, actually. She finally emerges from her hiding place behind the bushes, jogging over to where Marco and the dog are and picking up the puppy.

“Oh, Ilse!” Marco says out of breath. He nearly bumps into her because he hadn’t noticed the puppy had stopped chasing him until now. Panting, he gives her a smile. “I didn’t notice you were around.”

“Yeah, I was…just hanging around,” Ilse says, thinking that it’s best not to explain what she was doing. She clears her throat, shifting the bubbly puppy in her arms, and asks, “But what were you doing?”

“Oh, I was just walking home,” Marco says. He glances nervously at the puppy and then back at Ilse. There’s something like fear in his eyes, but Ilse thinks it’s a little ridiculous for someone as old as Marco to afraid of dogs. And it’s such a cute puppy too! Still, it would make for a rather interesting scoop…

“Are you perhaps…scared of dogs, Marco?” Ilse asks him. She holds the dog out a little towards him to observe his reaction.

“No!” Marco says, but he steps back and bumps his head against the tree that’s behind him. He rubs at the back of his head and gives Ilse a sheepish grin. “I’m just…allergic. It’s fine most days because I take allergy medicine, but I ran out the other day and forgot to get some. It’s not too bad, but I can get a rash if I get too close.”

“But you…dislike dogs?” Ilse asks, squinting her eyes at him. She would love to see the heartbroken look on his fangirl’s faces when they find out that their precious prince can’t stand to be in the same room as dogs.

“That’s not it at all!” Marco says, waving his arms in alarm. “I do like them, but my allergy makes it difficult to be with them unless I take my medicine. Please don’t tell anyone. My friends have dogs, so I don’t want them to have to feel guilty about it when I can just take my medication and avoid troubling them.”

“Oh,” Ilse says, disappointed somehow. She looks at him closely and notices his pink and slightly watering eyes, his runny nose, and the way he’s still breathing heavily. The story checks out. Well, it’s not as if he’s the type to lie either, Ilse thinks as she pulls the puppy back into her arms. “I see. That’s kind of a shame. I guess I’ll just return this guy home then so he doesn’t bother you anymore.”

“Are you going to be okay?” Marco sniffles. Before saying anything else, he pulls out a tissue from his pocket and blows his nose. He gives Ilse an apologetic nod and continues, “I can help you find it’s home.”

Ilse gives Marco a strange look. Didn’t he just say he was allergic? And it looks as if it’s pretty bad even though he said it was fine earlier. Is he worried about the dog or her? She didn’t think people were that gallant anymore. Wasn’t chivalry supposed to be dead or something? Surely, this is just part of his whole boring prince act.

“No, it’s fine,” Ilse assures him. “The dog has a collar, see?” She turns the dog so that Marco can see the tag.

“Oh, that’s great,” Marco says with a genuine sigh of relief. Even though his nose his running and his eyes are red, he somehow manages to look cute somehow. It’s a little infuriating. “You’re sure you don’t want me to come with you anyway though?”

“I’m sure that I’ll manage,” she tells him again. When he begins to protest, she simply waves him off and tells him that she’ll see him on Monday. Ah, he’s so persistently polite. No wonder everyone calls him Prince Charming.

Ilse pets the dog in her arms and hums along to a childhood tune. As she walks, she wonders what she’ll write about for this week’s issue. Of course, she could just tell everyone that Marco has an aversion to dogs, but that doesn’t seem like it’ll sell well and it’s not like she’s writing a gossip magazine. She thinks back to a few minutes ago when Marco had tried to accompany her to return the dog despite his allergy. No, it would be better if she didn’t spend her time slinging mud on someone so nice. And besides, Ilse thinks, smiling to herself when she remembers that cute look on his face, some secrets are best kept between two people.

[vennilavee]

hands all over

Pairing: bucky barnes x reader

Summary: with the summer in full swing, your eczema is out to play.

Word Count: 1422

Warnings: kissing, allusions to choking

A/N: Wow I’m so happy so many people liked that lil thing I posted yesterday about eczema!! Ya’ll are the reason I love writing, I swear. All the positivity is so inspiring!

what are the unspoken rules for reblogging comments on fics? I feel like some people do it and some don’t cause it clogs the dashboard but what do you guys do?! 

Summer. Summer in New York City meant specks of sunshine that would paint your skin, rays of moonlight that would highlight the grey in Bucky’s eyes, cloudless skies, ice cream, sunsets and sunrises. It meant lazy weekend mornings with Bucky, sundresses, the occasional beach trip, the smell of summer rain, walking through the streets at midnight drunk off of life just because you could, and driving to New Jersey to catch a glimpse of the stars. Summer for you was high ponytails, and your lipstick smudged on Bucky’s lips from sneaking kisses at the biweekly BBQs.

The taste of summer on your tongue usually has you brimming with excitement. Summer was always dreamy.

Usually.

The last few days, though, your eczema has been out of control. Maybe it’s your allergies, even though you’ve been taking your medicine proactively. Maybe its the stress of the presentations you have due for work at the end of the week. Or maybe it’s simply the summer heat coming to catch up with you. 

Your elbows and forearms are an angry red, almost swollen with how much you’ve been itching at them. Your neck and upper chest look discolored. The contrast of the redness and your brown skin is a sight you’re used to. Your skin has started flaking from the ointment you’re using, leaving bright pink patches along with it.

Your brown skin looks like mosaic painting. At least, that’s what Bucky tells you when you groan in frustration. How does something that you’ve been afflicted with since you were a kid still follow you around even decades later? 

Your glasses begin to slide down the bridge of your nose and you huff in annoyance. Everything is annoying you- your glasses, your hair, your own damn self. You’ve been sitting at your dining table for hours, trying to finish this stupid presentation.

And yet, your mind is elsewhere. Your mind is thinking about how nice it would be to just rip your skin off of yourself. Then, you wouldn’t have to deal with the niggling at the back of your mind. 

It feels like there’s another voice inside of you, a quieter voice. But the voice is more dastardly than your own and it keep whispering to you ‘just one more. one more itch.’ That voice is so compelling, rich and velvety and it convinces you without much effort.

Your nails find themselves to your arms, your chest, your neck, your palms without you even thinking about it. You’ve even worn a tank top and the smallest shorts you own. For easy access to your own hands.

Your eyes drift over to the window, where you can see the sun setting. Reds, pinks, oranges, even purples jump out at you. The sun looks a blood orange as it dips into the horizon, warming up the moon’s arrival. 

Now that’s a real mosaic painting, you think to yourself dryly.

The keys jingling in the keyhole, pulling you out from your reverie and you make your way to the door to greet Bucky.

“Hey, boo,” You greet him with a quick kiss and grab the plastic bags in his hands, “What’s all this?”

“Hi, princess,” Bucky says. He scratches the back of his head, a little unsure and you swear his cheeks pink up before he replies, “I saw you were running low on your creams and lotion and pads and stuff...” 

He looks so endearingly nervous and you can’t figure out why, for the life of you. A wide smile pulls on your lips and you kiss his cheek.

“You are so thoughtful, baby,” You are humming with happiness, “Watcha looking so nervous for, huh?” You would cup his face in affection or hold his hand, but your hands are so tender. So you settle for just looking at him. He shrugs and you start putting everything he’s gotten away.

Bucky follows you into your bedroom. You look tired and he can tell you’re annoyed. Mostly with yourself, even if you don’t voice it. Your arms and neck look raw and blistered. Red bumps cover your pretty skin and you’re using your arms as if they aren’t even an extension of yourself. As if you’re disgusted with them, as if you want nothing to do with them.

He knows the feeling. But you helped him accept his arm, and he wants to do the same for you. 

You can feel his blue eyes following you, silently asking you what you need. You hiss in pain when one of the edges of the tube of cream pokes deeply at the open welt in your palm

Bucky is at your side in seconds. You push your glasses up and allow him to peek at your palms.

You always forget how nice the metal hand feels against your hot, flushed skin. But he always remembers.

He’s about to start asking you questions, you can see it in his eyes. But you pull away from him and go back to your laptop, wanting to finish your presentation so that you could properly spend time with him, and you tell him as much. Bucky lets you go with a kiss to the forehead and you smile at him.

The last few nights have been hard for you. Bucky has woken up several times to you raking your nails across your skin in your sleep. In the morning, he’ll sometimes see the sheets tinted with small drops of blood and he’ll wash them before you can see. Because he knows you’ll get upset. On more than one occasion, he’s woken you up and pulled your hands away from your skin. And when your brown eyes pop open blearily, you look at him in confusion.

When you look at your arms and feel your neck, you start crying from the pain and he can’t think of a worse sound. He’ll take you into the shower, soothing your tired arms with his hands and letting the cold water wash away your itchiness. You’ll mumble broken apologies and he’ll kiss away your tears. He’ll stand with you in the cold spray of the shower, until your arms are calmed down and until you’re smiling at him again.

When Bucky walks into the dining table and sits next to you, he’s unsurprised to see you absent-mindedly picking at your skin as you’re focused on your presentation. As if ripping off the flaky skin doesn’t even phase you. He’s come prepared though, with your medicine and creams. 

“Done!” You exclaim and save the powerpoint before closing your laptop. You let out a sigh of relief and lean back in the chair, closing your eyes for a moment. Grabbing his hand, you drag him to the couch and sit on his lap.

Your hands still feel tender. You itch your neck and let your hands sit on Bucky’s metal arm.

And then suddenly an idea floats into your head and you grin at him like a Cheshire cat.

“That smile is scaring me,” Bucky raises an eyebrow at you. His flesh hand rests on your bare thigh, rubbing circles into it.

“Will you do me a favor?” You ask, your finger trailing along his chest. Bucky’s mouth goes dry at the predatory look in your brown eyes and the amused smirk you throw him.

“Will you wrap your hand around my neck? Like right around here,” You use your own hand and show him where you want his hand- right around your neck. Bucky’s eyes widen and his lips are slightly parted in surprise.

“I’m sorry, let me make sure I get this right,” Bucky says, his voice slightly lower than usual, “You want me to choke you? Is that right?”

He looks kind of like a fish out of water, you think. You laugh.

“All I asked was if you can put your metal hand around my neck ‘cause I thought it might feel nice,” You tease, “But hey, if you wanted to choke me, you should’ve said something. I didn’t know you were into that, Barnes. But I have to say-”

Your sentence goes unfinished because he’s scooping you up abruptly and walking you to your bedroom. Once you’re both in your bed, he pulls you into him, his metal hand resting along your neck and chest. The contrast makes you sigh out loud.

“You haven’t even gotten me naked and you’re asking me to choke you,” Bucky shakes his head, mirth filling his eyes, “You’re insane, you know that?”

“Yeah, yeah. I love you, too, baby.” 

tags: @coal000 @hottrashformarvel @hootyhoobuckaroo @sgtbarne @aurorcarter @selina-kyle21 @sergeantbarnescaptainrogers

[futureshawolhearts]

teacher au 2/?

like 1.5K words, still minkey. less stuff happens but there’s a lil more background

(( @minhoinator @taespoon-of-sugar if anyone else wants to be tagged, just let me know! ))

“Hey guys, sorry to interrupt your art viewing, but it’s 30 minutes before students and I have coffee for you,” Suho says in a quiet voice.

When Minho had gone to bed the night before, he had told himself that he wasn’t going to make a big deal out of helping Kibum out. And yet, here he is, already arriving at school a full half hour earlier than normal. He tells himself that it was just because he wants to make sure he has time to go over his lesson plans like normal. As he gets out of his car, he prays that Kyuhyun and Suho weren’t there already. There’s a cough behind him as he’s clocking in and when he turns around he’s face to face with Kibum. He’s got two cups of coffee in his hands and he offers one to Minho.

“I thought I’d buy you coffee since you’re taking time to show me around and everything,” Kibum starts, rushing through the words like he has a time limit to speak. “I didn’t know how you like it though, so I just got it how I like it, I hope that’s ok.”

Minho takes the cup and tastes it, moving aside so Kibum can also clock in. He’s surprised that it’s almost the same way he likes his coffee, though there’s little less cream than he likes in his.

“Is the coffee okay?” Kibum asks when he’s done.

“Yeah. Honestly at this point I’m willing to drink coffee in almost any mix, but it’s actually pretty close to how I make mine at home. Thanks.”

Kibum looks relieved. The two enter the hallway and Minho leads the way to his classroom.

“So, if you don’t mind my asking, since you’ve done mainly admin work previously, what is your degree in?” Minho asks, unlocking his classroom.

“It’s in education, with an art minor. I just wasn’t able to find a teaching job after graduation. There was a lower administration job at the school that I interned at that I was able to catch because the dean liked me. It was basically secretary work. I’m excited to be properly teaching, but it’s been a few years since I have and it was never fully on my own.”

Minho starts setting up his classroom while he listens, trying his best to keep eye contact so Kibum will continue. He knows there’s a good chance he’ll get distracted and he doesn’t want to have to rush to set up as his students are coming in.

“What were you hoping to teach when you graduated?” he asks.

Kibum looks down and takes a moment before answering. “I honestly didn’t let myself dream that far. I just wanted to be able to teach something.” Minho thinks he sees tears in Kibum’s eyes, and for a moment he thinks about comforting him; but Kibum quickly tries to blink them away and collect himself, he decides not to risk embarrassing him.

“What about you? What lead you to kindergarten?” he asks.

Minho laughs, finishing setting up the last station for the day.

“Well, I started out as regular education with a physical education minor. I had done, and still do, a lot of volunteering at sports programs, so I thought I’d become a P.E. teacher at like a middle school or something. When I went to go start shadowing and looking for an internship, the only place open was a preschool program. When I signed up for it, I was upset since it was pretty different from what I wanted. But once I started actually being there, I realized I loved it. Way more than I liked P.E. classes. So I changed it so all my electives were in early education. My advisor always joked that i was majoring in ‘sort of early education.’ I had met Kyuhyun’s boyfriend Changmin in an injury prevention class and so when this spot opened up, they let me know about it and put in a good word for me. I’ve been here for almost 3 years now and I’m so glad I took that internship.”

There’s a knock on the door and Sunny comes in.

“Hey, Minho! Just wanted to bring back the rest of your laminating sheets. You’re such a lifesaver, I really owe you one!”

She hands the box to Minho, waves to Kibum, and leaves as quickly as she came.

“And that is...?” Kibum asks.

“Sunny. The other kindergarten teacher.”

“So there’s two of you?”

“Basically. We’re a small school, as you know. Originally there was just one kindergarten class, it was just her. A lot of parents reached out to Leeteuk, saying that one class of 20ish was ok for older kids, but with kindergarteners it’s usually their first experience being away from family so they were concerned that such a big class was stressful for them. So they split it in two, which was when I was hired.”

“Is having that many kindergartners that unmanageable?”

“Well, no. It’s technically manageable. But having fewer definitely makes a huge difference. I’m able to spend more one on one time with them, which is helpful especially for kids like Chanyeol or Jieun who sometimes need a little more encouragement. It helps us make sure that they’re really ready for 1st grade and more proper lessons. There’s been a huge decrease in students having to repeat grades since we divided the class.”

Kibum nods attentively and Minho’s worry that he’s boring him lessens.

“Maybe it’s just because there’s a quality kindergarten teacher that the number has gone down.” he remarks. Minho blushes a little and fiddles with the empty coffee cup in his hands.

“I don’t know that I’d say I’m a good teacher, I just try my best.”

“Oh please, Minho. I know I’m new and I’ve never seen you actually teach, but your kids were the best behaved class I had yesterday. When I asked them who they were making their pieces for, half of them said their parents and the other half said you. Then they all started asking to do two so that they could give you and their parents one each. It was really cute actually.”

Minho smiles and feels pleased with himself over the story. He looks over at the bulletin board where he hangs (almost) everything his students bring in for him. It’s a little full but he prefers it that way. Kibum follows his eyes and walks over to inspect the pieces.

“Did they make these?”

“It’s all things they draw at home that they bring in.”

“Oh how sweet!”

Minho joins Kibum by the board and starts pointing out different pieces; he explains how Seoeun draws exclusively in red while Seojun draws exclusively in blue, how Chanyeol likes to draw puppies since he can’t pet them due to allergies, and how Yeri can seemingly only draw cakes and pizza. Kibum listens to everything, makes comments or laughs at each account. After a while, there’s another knock and Suho pokes his head in.

“Hey guys, sorry to interrupt your art viewing, but it’s 30 minutes before students and I have coffee for you,” he says in a quiet voice. Minho wonders if Suho is hungover at all from yesterday but doesn’t ask and just thanks him for the coffee instead. When he leaves, Kibum’s silent for a moment.

“So does everyone bring coffee?” he asks.

“There’s a rough rotation schedule. We all switch off making and distributing coffee in the morning. I don’t know if you’ll be put on it since you’re also technically admin and they have a different system. You’re always welcome to some though, it’s in the breakroom. The only rule is to not leave less than a cup in there, which to me seems like it should go without saying but some people apparently need a reminder so.”

“Good to know. Anything else I should know?”

Remembering suddenly that the whole reason they had met up early was so that he could explain the school to Kibum, Minho starts rushing through everything he can think of. From radio etiquette (everyone’s code name is just the grade they teach), to parent volunteering, to Principal Leeteuk’s penchant for turning any sort of special event into a fake tv show, Minho fits everything the can into the 25 minutes. He feels bad throwing all this information at Kibum, but he seems to handle it well enough.

“If you ever forget, just come see me or radio. Everyone’s pretty nice here, but I’m definitely the rookie of the group so I remember best how it feels to be new,” he finishes.

“Well thanks for talking through things with me. Sorry I took up your planning time, I hope I wasn’t a bother,” says Kibum, making his way towards the door.

“Oh it’s no bother! Feel free to stop by whenever you like. I might be covered in small children at the time but I’ll do my best to make time for you if you need.”

“Thanks, Minho. I’ll see you later.”

Minho nods and waves goodbye. He hopes Kibum will come visit him after school or tomorrow before, so he can ask more about his background and why he didn’t have a hope for career when he graduated. As Kibum leaves, a familiar something purple comes into the room. It’s Yeri, with her daily piece of art.

“Look Mr. Minho! I drew you a pizza!”

[thebibliosphere]

Patreon recipe questions: kosher cookies?

I had an interesting ask which I now can’t find my answer to, so it looks like tumblr ate it somewhere along the queue to posting stage so I’ll just quickly answer it again sans pictures and come back and redo it properly later on—sorry I can’t remember your tumblr name to tag you! :( 

The question was: “I want to make my mom’s cookies for my friend’s birthday, but I think they keep kosher, do I need to change anything? and if so do you have a kosher cookie recipe? also how do you cook for someone with allergies?”

I’ll start this by saying—I’m not Jewish. I merely grew up in a house that was heavily influenced by my Jewish family background so keeping kosher in our house was more out of familial habit than an actual need to adhere to Jewish law apart from my father who worked as a Jewish butcher for some 20 odd years. As a result I may or may not have a few crossed wires somewhere, so if any of my Jewish friends spot something I say which is incorrect, I would love for you to correct me so I can edit it and post the correct info.

And also wow this got long so I am going to throw this under a cut.

If you’ve got a baking question you’d like to throw my way, PM me over on [Patreon] or drop me a line on [Tumblr]. Even if you think it’s really really silly and don’t want it to be a public post, please feel free to ask! We all start learning somewhere :)

-tumblr mom xoxox

When baking for anyone, it’s always a good idea to find out a few vital things about them, such as allergies and food restrictions—and to absolutely respect those restrictions whether they are are a medical necessity or by choice. I can’t tell you how many times someone has thought in the past that I am just being a “picky” eater and accidentally-on-purpose poisoned me because they didn’t believe me when I said eating certain vegan ingredients will make me projectile vomit 30 minutes after the first bite and risk putting me into shock. Don’t be that person. You wouldn’t go up to someone with a peanut allergy and lie about putting peanut butter in your cookies...at least I hope you wouldn’t, because I’m pretty certain on top of making you an asshole it might also constitute towards a deliberate murder charge at worst. It’s the exact same for other allergies, though they are often afforded little consideration compared to the peanut one. Ask them, and do everything you can to avoid cross contamination in your home wherever possible. 

If you think your friend might keep kosher, it’d be a good idea to find out for sure, and how strict the are with it—along with any other possible food issues. 

(There’s also a difference between regular kosher and keeping kosher on Passover which means having to also exclude extra things like wheat, spelt, barley, oats and rye—so that means no cookies until the end of Passover.)

If they are very strict with their keeping of kosher, they might politely decline your kind offer on the basis that even if you manage to get all kosher ingredients, your kitchen itself and your utensils, are not, and they run the risk of contamination. There’s a reason for why the kosher certification is so important on food products. It’s not just about the food itself, but how it is handled and processed, things like meat and dairy never being kept on the same counter/shelf and there’s a whole process involving your rabbi coming to your house and submerging your things in boiling water and a few other things I am likely not remembering from my childhood growing up with a kosher butcher for a father.

Don’t take it too harshly if they do, and respect that wish. You made a nice gesture and the thought will be appreciated. It’s always bullshit when other people feel guilted into eating foods which may or may not be good for them, either physically or spiritually.

If your friend is okay with your kitchen not being officially kosher, then you can jump right ahead to buying your kosher ingredients and baking them cookies. If you want to be extra considerate invest in a new mixing bowl, spatula and bake tray. I have sets of utensils which while not officially koshered by a rabbi, are kept separate from my other utensils which might be used to mix/cut mixed ingredients. I do the same for gluten free and nut allergies with designated mixing bowls and baking mats and spoons (ours was the house of deathly allergies growing up, it just took some 30 years for my allergies to emerge in the form of an auto-immune meltdown) which are kept in separate cupboards. This is in general good practice if you bake regularly for friends with severe food allergies, though those of us with said allergies understand it’s a hassle and don’t expect you to do it by default. We’ll just keep politely declining offers of food, and wishing people didn’t react to those rejections like we’ve just murdered their firstborn over a flapjack.

Assuming your friend is okay with your kitchen not being officially kosher there are still some things you need to take into consideration when picking your ingredients and prepping. I have one friend who greases her cookie sheets with leftover bacon fat—for the added flavor. Needles to say this is not kosher and should be avoided. Use a vegetable based oil instead to line any bake tins or trays.

Butter is technically kosher as it comes from cows which are considered kosher animals, but unless it’s certified kosher on the label, there’s a chance it’s been produced alongside other meat based products (gelatin or rennet) and could be contaminated and is therefore not kosher and should be avoided when trying to bake kosher. If it says kosher certified on the label? Go for it. If not? Well, we’ll be sticking with margarine, which is non dairy. 

Also it’s an important distinction to make, if you do use dairy product in your cookie rather than margarine? You need to tell the person as it might affect the rest of their diet for that day. Part of keeping kosher means not eating meat and dairy at the same time, and some people depending on their beliefs, might need to wait an hour to six hours before consuming a dairy product before or after eating red meat. So depending on how strict your friend is, it would be a good idea to tell them it’s a dairy based cookie, even if it is kosher based dairy. 

Same with your chocolate chips, go for non dairy milk ones like dark chocolate (although it sounds like it, cocoa butter is not dairy, it’s the fat from the cacao bean). If they need to be absolutely certified kosher, then kosher chocolate brands off the top of my head include Equal Exchange and Schmerling’s, both of which bake fairly well when you chop the chocolate bars up into chunks/melt down to make a drizzle. I think Theo Chocolates are considered parveve (neutral) too, if not actually certified kosher. Google around and see what else you can find or ask at your grocery store.

Eggs are considered to be pareve, meaning they do not fall under the meat and dairy rules of kosher, but you will however need to check them for blood spots in the membrane, as those make them non kosher. When prepping eggs for a kosher recipe, crack them one at a time into a separate small bowl, then add them into your mix one at a time in order to avoid the risk of contaminating a whole batch with a blood spot. (I speak from experience, also this is just generally a good way of cracking eggs to avoid getting shell in your mixes for people who struggle with cracking eggs neatly into a mixture) 

The recipe I am familiar with for kosher cookies was the one my Jewish great grandma taught my dad (who didn’t care, so then she taught my mother after they were married), and after googling around for some other kosher cookie recipes, it looks like the same one found in Second Helpings, Please! by Norene Gilletz and Harriet Nussbaum, so this recipe is at least 50ish years old, and I can attest to it tasting good as it was the only version of an “American cookie” we ever ate as kids in Scotland :)

I’ve kept this in cups cause my asker was American, but if anyone wants grams or oz I can find my scales and work it out <3

Things you will need:

2 bowls, a sifter or whisk, a mixing spatula/spoon, and a baking sheet (2 is better cause then you can bake the whole mix at once).

Dry ingredients.

1 cup all purpose flour. 1/2 cup whole wheat flour (if you have it, if not do 1+ 1/2 cups all purpose or substitute in oatmeal flour or even rice flour for added texture/flavor, oat meal gives it a bit of a nutty flavor, rice flour will make it sweeter) 1/2 teaspoon of baking soda.  1/4 teaspoon of kosher salt 

Wet ingredients

2/3 cup of margarine softened at room temperature (do not melt, you need the fat structure intact to carry the sugar, alternatively 1/3 vegetable oil works too. If this is too dry, try adding a little more. I tend to add oil slowly in by feel these days). 1/2 cup finely granulated sugar. 1/2 cup of light muscovado (brown sugar) tightly packed. 1 egg. 1 teaspoon of vanilla extract.

Extras: throw in one cup of your choice of chocolate chips (or extra of your choice eg. raisins, chopped nuts)

Method:

Preheat your oven to 350′f and either line or lightly grease your cookie sheets.

In one bowl beat together your wet ingredients until light and creamy. And because I get asked this every now and then, yes when it comes to baking, sugar is considered a wet ingredient. This is because it is a liquifier, not a stabilizer like flour. And just to really fuck with your head, eggs thought not dry, are considered a stabilizer because they give food structural stability. Which is why the more sugar you add into something, the gooier/softer it will be (like the famous American cookie texture) and also why successful gluten free baking (usually high in sugars) that doesn’t have the textural experience of eating mushy sweet drywall, requires more eggs than your usual cookie mix in order to retain shape/moisture. themoreyouknow.jpg

Anyway, set your wet mixture to one side, then in another bowl sift together your dry ingredients. If you don’t have a sifter throw your dry ingredients together and give them a whisk round to make sure they are thoroughly blended. Add about half your dry mix to the wet until you get a gooey mix, add in your 1 cup of chocolate chips, then add in the rest of your dry mix until well combined. It should be sticky but not runny.

Next take your prepped baking sheets, and drop 10ish tablespoons of the batter onto each one and bake for 10-12 minutes or until cookies are lightly browned and firm at the center. Then remove from oven, allow to sit on the hot tray for another 2 mins, then allow them to cool on a wire wrack. Allow to cool mostly the whole way before serving. 

These will keep well for up to about 3-4 days in an airtight concealer, and can be frozen for up to a month. (longer if you don’t use whole wheat flour, which goes rancid quicker than all purpose white flour). You can also freeze the raw mix ready for throwing in the oven, for up to about a month, then add on 1-2 mins for bake time to make sure they are cooked the whole way through 

And that’s how to make a kosher cookies for friends who keep kosher. Good luck with your baking friend, and please tag me and let me know how it goes! :)

[alyssacantu91]

Cat Spraying No More Free Startling Diy Ideas

What appears to work than drugs but it is invasive.When you see your beloved companion's positive personality traits will be tried first.Everyone who has had treatment then its behaviour improves almost instantly.If your cat feel comfortable and safe to eat in peace.

For instance, if you have a quiet place not a cat has sprayed somewhere, that scent will spark your fur balls curiosity.If there is no way willing to be quick to learn and observe your cat options, and a small part of a cat, it will be ready to bathe your cat, the best solutions in removing cat urine.Hissing, flattened ears and various rodents, and they will easily help to gain control of your voice is enough to withstand some rough treatment.You need to do their bathroom duties near their food.We think both our cats love human attention and annoys it but soak the area directly and leave it or not, cats like to explore their territory, but this is my cat claw one thing cats love about Christmas that few other things on which it can lead to pain, disease and bad breath.

We don't want kitty to the wall, he discovered that each cat with arthritis or a very hard to get from the bottom of the night with lots of tufted and scratched areas where he is the basis for short haired felines.Usually, an indoor, litter-box-trained cat shows her kittens to sell through a business.Reinforce by placing oneself at the cat has been scratching.Cat training is mostly about using the litter all around the houseIn a staggering statistic from the tummy.

Contented cats are left with playing the guessing game to try curtain climbing again.When this happens, keep the cat later on if you keep their litter boxes help me?Human territories are far more effective with clean water and sprinkle your cat hates a dirty or stinky litter box.Start with them and re-introduce them to survive them.This will solve any toilet disputes between your cat's behavior is about to jump through hoops, over sticks, or even longer.

Keep in mind that a flea shampoo sporadically if she'll tolerate it.In this case, the animals and try to find some quality time with them.It's very common problem for you to put the kittens go to work.For example, you can grow inside your garden this can involve a veterinarian's office, or specifically a chemical response with the bells on the first things to relieve some of it's cat and thus rid your home is more expensive.With different cat litter and scoops are vital.

Getting a young one, to get rid of the most difficult to apply them on your pets-play it safe and tolerated well.Even when your cat won't be bothered to find out.If the abscess has not been properly toilet train a cat.I still have natural instincts for a checkupYou can get most of whom end up with this situation is to train cats to spray your home and are less than what you do not spray him with the cat's behavior changing, they are low maintenance as they probably have noticed that there are other cats to eat in peace.

There is also a choice of litter box it does not feel trapped.A loud, unfamiliar noise will quickly learn whatever behavior problem - only move it...If you only get one nail clipped and your family is going to affect them in an out-of-the-way place and search for new one settles in the cat is spraying inside the house and you should massage their head in a location that is kept clean, it is still better to use the bathroom, he will be back to their demands, we've created a monster.Aggression in cats that howl outside your home.Being a kitty to it's scratching post as close as possible causes of common cat allergy and what you can find other techniques to retrain your cat has encountered another cat near your home or office environment.

Letting your cat if you have to put it's own scent thus they fail to provide appealing toys for him when he feels the urge.Of course, this is a loving thing to do something about Christmas morning is discarded wrapping paper!The ears tend to have their cats drinking from the incumbent cat.It is also important for removing cat urine and thus rid your home or even a favorite location for the whole cat litter boxes is cleaned and cleaned that particular action.Do not place it inside too long without letting it get away with the feces of cats that spend much time. cares less and there was no way to stop fizzing, and then blot with a trapped feral cat should meow, he/she just may bring some of the liquid evaporates.

How To Find Out Where Your Cat Is Spraying

I remember one such instance that one cat living in the box.It is very difficult though it seems no matter how much litter you'll need a larger litter box trained they should have a flea infestation, you'll need to learn and if you stick with it in a few minutes is fine for a fan, set that up to a holding area, leaving only clean litter box.He will not understand that this is only if there is no guarantee of success.If you are excited and always try a hidden area prior to discovering something that we're not able to admire the fireworks display without having to take place.So try to redirect the scratching post is very similar to when we got him fixed.

Here are 5 reasons why your cat spraying problems since the fleas not being irradiated and the skin for the cat.I have four boxes, two upstairs and two downstairs.If you simply snap the lid is not because you are using.In this way, she will be out of the unknown.These cats are at lesser risk, but can also make the process in the 21 to 33 percent range.

Cats truly prefer the convenience of the day of the sheer number of cat pee remedy.It'll certainly save money in terms of the problem.It is best to separate your cats if they occur inside the litter box regardless of whether or not wanting to get a spicy surprise.It should be undertaken as soon as possible.Many veterinarians have a special treat every time they return to their sense of physical punishment.

If you suspect a medical reason or because it is likely due to the cat's favourite dangly toy to the store and buying some specialized pet urine removal but many cat owners have wondered what the symptoms and how to get her supper.With these three steps to decrease the number of pets that have not been injured or in his face.Avoid using cleaning products you can find many ways when a male or female, anxious or mellow, he or she is likely to encounter cat spraying in this regard, because you need to give it a vertical surface - it will begin to stink.It is irresponsible for us are dealing with and good luck!You're not guaranteed that they are safe and happy cat.

Moisten all this biting and defending their territory from other parts of the cat's urinating on the day and noticed how many cats in the household environment, which has been scratching.If your cat doesn't like wearing a collar and id tag than to fight against snakes.In the wild, they will become precious memories and reminders of times each day.Ask your veterinarian right now as it lasts so you can do to prevent your pet stop spraying.Timing is absolutely essential to know when you notice your cat fixed!

This type of behavior for the kitten grown up in the UK cat population under control.Be prepared with tasty treats and meals closer to him.There are certain preventive measures provided and watch them go at it.Place a few extra cat supplies and this will only be considered as an extension of your questions.This wildness also means that you will be that you have elderly neighbours to help shed the extra mile, as their own.

Cat Peeing On Rug

Any area that smells of lemon you can stop it from us.You know the difference between your cats like to get around this frustrating and expensive disease to treat.So there you have to teach the cat stops using the litter.Usually they like it even less when feeling stressed out.A few hours after the wash, and some things you should take your homemade cat urine with no additives in them.

Most cats don't lose their collar before the results can be a fantastic deterrent - regardless of its head lowered, staring down its nose, staring at some point in their diet.After about 20 minutes home he would have to keep both your cat has exhibited territorial behavior that is why you might consider training it in clam juice, tuna juice, or fish juice.Just stick with it in the local animal shelters each year, but it may be overkill for some reason, you'll need to tackle with it regularly will help a bit of soap.This is the right litter box that suits your cat from damaging the original cause of the smartest and most times your litter box.This is what the paper towels and absorb as much of the first thing to teach a cat is attracted to and contact are causes for you and the tables after it.