#and a year ago or so i made a different recipe which had more nuts and stuff

[marmorenshud]

in better news, I made rolls without a recipe yesterday and they turned out good

[eisforeidolon]

Question: Could you tell us some of the differences that you've discovered between acting and producing, directing and how they've affected your performances with both?

Jared: Oh, great question, great question.

Jeff: It's a real question! I can't even make - I'm trying to think if I can go dirty with that somehow. You got me thinking about their parents and -

Jared: Just grab her fan [referring to a previous fan's prop].

Jared: Yeah, it's a great question. I think, first and foremost, being involved in the production and how the sausage is made, so to speak?

Jeff: [shakes his head emphatically] And he doesn't think he could write a memoir.

Jensen: [also shaking his head] Any, any other analogy.

Jared: Seeing all the ingredients that go into a recipe, I have so much more -

Jeff: We're all thinking about sausages now. Way to go.

Jared: I have so much more respect for everything that happens before they call action. You know often times, and this is kind of whether it's actually getting into producing or directing or helping develop? But we were just talking about, Jensen and I were just talking about, our first jobs. Like, twenty five years ago. And my [finger quotes] job as I saw it then, the only thing I could tackle was like know your lines, hit your marks. You know? I didn't even think about, oh, what are these people doing? Oh, what went into this thought? And so understanding now, like why storylines go the way they go sometimes, and why people wear this or do that. And sometimes as simple, frankly, as an actor's availability or lack of availability - like with Jeff? We couldn't sign him on, we being Supernatural at large, couldn't sign him on - he would have loved to have stayed, I imagine? But they were like, hey, we don't have the budget to add another regular and so that's why the character went that way. Or like with me with Dean on Gilmore Girls, Dean had to take a turn and kind of get strange because they didn't have me. So they're not gonna write, like, hey John Winchester is now at the forefront of every episode, 'cause he might be on Grey's Anatomy next week.

[Audience cheers, Jeff bows]

Jared: And so learning about, kinda what restrictions there are to the art of the story you want to tell has been kind of what sticks out in my mind.

Jensen: Producer's just a title they gave me. I did nothing to earn it. It's just in my contract. No, I would say that the producing side of things is - you know there's a lot of different facets, I think a lot of different types of producers that handle different tasks. And that's really what a producer is, they're task rabbits. They are putting out fires, but if there's no fires to put out, then there's really not a whole lot to do as a producer. From a production standpoint. If you're talking about producing from like the conceptualizing standpoint when you're in the writing room and you're coming up with the -

[Kid yells yayyyyy]

Jensen: Okay. Yeah.

Jared: Yeah!

Jensen: [pointing] You understand!

Jeff: That's a future producer right there.

Jensen: Yeah, that's a creative producer. And so there's line producers that are in charge of, you know, keepin' the books and doing budgetary things and turning in budgets to the studio. And so there's a lot of different types of roles that fall under the producer umbrella. But with me it was more about just, that title to me just meant be a leader on set. Which I already kind of feel -

Jeff: You did that anyway.

Jensen: responsible for anyway as one of, as a lead actor - is setting a tone and leading by example and leading a cast and crew and with the help of others [gestures towards Jared]. And so producing was less of a, I think, bringing on more responsibility. I think Jared probably took on more because he liked that element of it? I would say for me what impacted acting more outside of acting was directing. Learning how - learning all the nuts and bolts to frame composition and why I'm using this lens instead of this lens. You know, focal length and drawing the audiences to certain - why you put a subject, whether you put them left frame or right frame instead of center frame. So all of that stuff started to really help me when I was in front of the camera, understanding why they were doing that. Having that knowledge and then just being more comfortable with my performance knowing exactly how it was - it was almost like I knew what the reflection looked like without the mirror being there. And that can be troubling for some people who don't wanna know, they just wanna just be able to perform? But especially I know Jared and I - and I think Jeff as well - were really technical with our acting. We understand marks and lighting and if you're not on your mark, you're not gonna be in focus and so - and then also framing and I can ask a camera operator who is twenty feet away what lens they're on and know exactly where that frame is hitting me [gestures framing his head and upper torso]. And so that just helps me in my performance because if I know they're on a one thirty five and they're right here [gestures to just his face] then I'm not gonna [flails a bit wildly] then I'm not gonna do that. But if they're on a forty -

Jared: Then you'll do that?

Jensen: Then I'll do [throws up hands]. Then I might make the motions bigger. You're able to play, the space is larger. And so just that kind of knowledge helped me as an actor, I think. And then I learned more of that from directing I think than I did, you know, anything on the producing side.

Jeff: I find producing to be more about lack of money now, than anything else. Every day starts with a phone call saying -

Jensen: It's too expensive!

Jeff: Too expensive, you spent too much money yesterday or on the episode before and so we have to take it away, how are we gonna do that? I'm like, take me out, I don't need to be in those scenes. [laughs] And I think both these guys are right, been around so long, I've never directed, I've been asked to direct for the last fourteen years on whatever show I've done and I didn't want to do it because I hate watching myself. I can't imagine going into an editing room and watching myself and being able to decide - I'd be like nope, I just wanna go stay on Jensen and Jared the whole scene. So I've never taken that step and also I've found that it takes a lot more time. And I don't have that. I don't have the time to leave my kids for an extra month to go do prep on the first episode of Dead City. These guys don't have to do that, I would have to go spend a month of fiddling around and looking at locations and you know, meeting with DPs if we don't have our DPs - I mean every year so far we've been on this spinoff we've had different DPs, so it's a lot of stuff. That being said, I've always been the guy next to our DPs saying why are you using that lens? Why not this lens? And asking those questions, so I feel like I could direct at this point pretty easily if it weren't for the fact that I'm in the damn thing. If I could go direct one of these guys [points to either side]? In a second. Yeah, that'd be great.

Jensen: Noted.

Jared: You heard it here first.

[thedisneychef]

What is the Oldest Recipe? Discovering Culinary History

Have you ever wondered what the oldest recipe in the world is? I know I have! After doing some research, I'm so excited to share with you my findings. In this article, we'll explore what exactly the oldest recorded recipe is and where it comes from. We'll also take a look at how our ancestors used food as medicine and sustenance before modern cooking became accessible. So grab a cup of coffee and settle in - there's plenty to discover! Ancient Egyptian Cuisine Ancient Egyptian cuisine is one of the oldest and most interesting in the world. It was heavily influenced by the abundance of fresh ingredients available from the Nile River, including fish, fruits, grains, herbs and spices. Egyptians would use a variety of Egyptian spices such as cumin, coriander and fenugreek to season their recipes. They also used honey for sweetening purposes as well as to preserve many foods. Their diets were largely plant-based with some meat being eaten on occasions but mostly during religious celebrations or festivals. One of the most popular ancient Egyptian dishes is Koshari which consists of lentils mixed with rice and macaroni noodles topped off with spicy tomato sauce and garlic vinegar dressing. This dish can be found throughout Egypt today, although modern cooks have added variations like chickpeas or french fries instead of macaroni noodles. Another classic recipe includes Fattah which involves layering bread with cooked lamb cubes before topping it up with a yoghurt sauce spiced up with peppermint essence and other traditional ingredients such as onions and parsley leaves. Egyptians were not just creative in preparing food but they are also known for inventing various cooking techniques that we still use today. For example, baking bread over an open fire was invented by them around 4000 years ago! So if you ever want to experience truly authentic tastes from way back then make sure to try out these ancient Egyptian delicacies - there's something for everyone! Ancient Chinese Cuisine It's fascinating to explore the oldest recipes in the world. Chinese cuisine is renowned for its rich history, flavor combinations, and regional variations that make it one of the most popular cuisines on earth. Let's take a closer look at how ancient Chinese cooking has evolved over time! Chinese cuisine can be traced back thousands of years ago when people used herbs and spices to season their food. Some of these spice combinations have been handed down from generation to generation and still remain popular today. Regional variations also play an important role in traditional Chinese dishes; different provinces will often use unique ingredients such as Sichuan peppers or fermented sauces that are specific to the area they're located in. No matter what region you find yourself in, exploring ancient Chinese dishes is sure to provide a delicious culinary experience like no other. From comforting noodle soups to more complex flavors found with regional specialties, there's something for everyone when it comes to this ancient cuisine. So why not grab some chopsticks and embark on your own gastronomic journey into China’s past! Ancient Greek Cuisine I'm fascinated by the oldest recipes in history. Ancient Greek cuisine has intrigued me for years and I have to admit that it's quite different from what most of us eat today. It was an interesting combination of savage feasts, dietary taboos and simple meals made with fresh ingredients. In ancient Greece, meat was rarely eaten on its own but used more as a flavoring ingredient or even combined with grains in porridge-like dishes. They had many recipes for cakes, breads and other pastries which were flavored with honey, nuts and spices like cinnamon, coriander and mint. Fish was also popular among Greeks who enjoyed a variety of seafood such as anchovies, shellfish and sardines. The Greeks also placed great importance on their wines, making sure they were properly aged before serving them at special occasions or during religious ceremonies. Not only did they enjoy drinking wine but they considered it an important part of maintaining good health as well! All in all, the ancient Greeks had a diverse range of food options available to them – something we can still appreciate today when exploring their culinary heritage. Ancient Roman Cuisine I have always been fascinated by the long and interesting history of food. Ancient Roman cuisine is a particularly intriguing part of culinary culture, as it has left its mark on many modern dishes. From pizza to pasta, there are so many delicacies that originated from this period in time! One of the most iconic elements of ancient Roman cuisine were their breads. They would often bake them using flat stones or clay ovens heated with wood fire, making for an incredibly flavourful loaf. Not only did they use different shapes and sizes but also added various ingredients such as olives, herbs and cheese to create unique flavours. Roman sauces were also very popular during this era; these condiments could be used both as a topping and as a dip. Common ingredients included nuts, garlic, herbs and spices which gave each sauce its own distinct flavour profile. In particular garum was highly sought after due to its umami-rich taste – this fish sauce still remains popular today! To end my enthusiasm for ancient Roman cuisine, I can wholeheartedly say that it continues to influence our meals today in more ways than one. Ancient Mesopotamian Cuisine Moving from the Ancient Roman Cuisine to another ancient cuisine, we come to that of Ancient Mesopotamia. This region was located in parts of modern-day Iraq and Kuwait, so it’s not surprising that much of its diet has similarities with Middle Eastern Cuisine today. The main staples were bread, dates and fish along with other items like cheese, yogurt and figs. As this area was close to the Mediterranean Sea, their diets shared some commonality with the famous Mediterranean Diet which is still popular around the world today. They also enjoyed fruits such as apples, pears and olives while poultry dishes were a favorite among the rich. It's safe to say that many of our favorite ingredients date back thousands of years! With all these delicious options available, it’s no wonder people have been cooking up tasty meals for centuries. Frequently Asked Questions What Are The Oldest Known Ingredients Used In Recipes? When it comes to the oldest known ingredients used in recipes, traditional and regional cooking reigns supreme! Many of these ingredients date back many centuries; some even go as far back as ancient times. Wheat, barley, lentils, onions, garlic, olive oil, honey and various herbs are just a few examples of age-old ingredients that have been staples throughout history. These ingredients are still widely used today for both traditional and modern dishes. How Has The Preparation Of Recipes Changed Over Time? Over time, the preparation of recipes has changed dramatically. Cuisine evolution and traditional flavors have been impacted by changes in cooking methods, ingredients availability, health trends, and technology. From ancient times to today's modern kitchens, there are significant differences between how people use their resources to create meals for themselves and their families. In the past, dishes were often cooked over an open flame or on a hearth; nowadays we cook with microwaves, air fryers, sous vide machines, and more! Additionally, ingredients that weren't available centuries ago such as sugar cane and chocolate can now be found everywhere. Finally, recent dietary concerns have led to new ways of preparing food while still preserving its flavor. All this goes to show that while some things remain timelessly delicious – like Grandma's secret recipe – the art of creating cuisine is constantly evolving! What Are The Health Benefits Of Ancient Recipes? The health benefits of ancient recipes are undeniable. Traditional cooking methods tend to be healthier than modern-day ones, as they often don't rely on processed and packaged ingredients or additives. Cultural influences have also been a factor in the development of these old recipes – many healthy spices and herbs were incorporated for their medicinal properties. Ancient recipes can help us stay fit, energized, and full of vitality! Are There Any Differences Between Ancient And Modern Recipes? When it comes to ancient and modern recipes, there are definitely differences. Ancient recipes were heavily influenced by cultural traditions, while today's cuisine is much more diverse. While some ingredients have remained the same over time - like grains, nuts and fruits - other components of a dish may vary depending on what country or region you're in. Furthermore, techniques that are used today weren't available back then so the taste of an ancient recipe will likely be quite different than something made with modern methods. How Can We Use Ancient Recipes To Create Modern Dishes? When it comes to creating modern dishes, there's nothing like looking back into the past. Ancient recipes are full of traditional flavors and cultural influences that can be used in today's kitchens for a unique twist on classic dishes. With a few minor adjustments, you can take an ancient recipe and make something entirely new! By incorporating traditional flavors from ancient recipes with the techniques of today, you can create a dish that is sure to impress your taste buds. Conclusion In conclusion, it is amazing to think about the recipes that have been around for thousands of years. By looking at ancient recipes, we can gain insight into how our ancestors lived and ate. We can also create modern dishes inspired by these ancient ingredients and techniques. As we learn more about nutrition and healthful eating habits, rediscovering ancient recipes can help us make healthier choices today. They may not be as convenient or tasty as the meals we’re used to now, but they offer a unique perspective on food and its history – one that I find intriguing and inspiring! Read the full article

[daeborahdaisydatter]

So I bake these things which I call oatcakes.

Some background: My mother's mother was from Scotland, and my mother's father was cockney. My father's family was from Yorkshire except for his great grandmother Isabella, who came from the pottery district. This is a tale for another time, and anyway, we are all Canadian now. My parents came here after the 2nd World War, and we live on the frozen prairies in the middle of Canada. ( Frozen right now but in summer it is way f****** hot these days)

Scotland has a variety of oatcakes, which is one thing, and Stoke-on-Trent, where Isabella was from, has oatcakes which are quite different. I had oat cakes when we visited Stoke-on-Trent a few years ago; they were delicious and not at all what I think of as oatcakes. More like pancakes. My sister makes oatcakes, which are, I believe, very much like the Scottish ones.

When I moved to Saskatoon from Lloydminster in 1974, granola bars had just become a thing, and they were kind of annoying. They were like super crunchy cookies that hurt my mouth to eat and were not enjoyable. So I decided to invent my own variety of oatcakes, which were not nearly as sweet as the commercial kind and way more healthy.

I started with a recipe for oatmeal cookies from my mother. The original recipe is just a basic oatmeal cookie and probably should be soft when cooked. I do not remember my mother ever actually cooking them. I added nuts and seeds, cut back on the sugar and salt, reversed the amount of oil and water, and cook them until they are crispy.

I have been tweaking these things ever since.

Nowadays, the ones I make are gluten free, not because I am particularly GF, but because they come out very heavy if you make them with wheat flour.

They are my version of a super food, the ones I made today contained hemp seed, flax seed, and sesame seeds as well as almonds and pumpkin seeds.

[vewores]

Christmas crack recipes

#Christmas crack recipes cracker

#Christmas crack recipes crack

Spray your parchment paper with a light coating of cooking oil spray, then start laying out your pretzels. This is a crucial step that will make it a LOT easier to remove the pretzel toffee bark from the pan when it is finished. Line your cookie sheet with a layer of parchment paper. You’ll want to preheat your oven to 375 degrees, so it’s ready a little later. The first step in making this recipe is to prepare your pretzels on your cookie sheet.

#Christmas crack recipes crack

Prepping Your Pretzels to Make Christmas Crack There are a couple of tools that I’ve found useful in making this recipe that you might want to have on hand: Half a bag of mini pretzels (shapes, not the sticks).I was able to order everything I needed to make this recipe through Instacart from my local Aldi store.įor one batch of Christmas Crack you’ll need: They’re super easy to find and also pretty inexpensive. The ingredients for this recipe are deceptively simple. You’ll want to read the whole post first to get all the tips and tricks to get this recipe right the first time! I’m including a printable recipe at the bottom of this post, but it’s just the basics. Now, I’ve decided to share it with all of you, so you can experience the yummy goodness that is Beth’s Christmas Crack. He stopped me the next day to tell me he broke his own rules about eating on the bus to try it and that very little had made it home to his family that evening. Every year I make this and hand it out to friends and family, and it’s always wildly popular.Ī few years back I gave some to my daughter’s school bus driver. It’s become one of our Christmas Traditions. When I needed a quick and easy treat to make last minute, she passed along this recipe of holiday perfection. This recipe came to me a few years ago when I was looking for something to make for friends and neighbors at Christmastime.Īs I do just about anytime I need advice, I messaged my best friend Beth.Įvery year, Beth makes a HUGE assortment of incredibly beautiful and delicious candies and cookies for her husband to take to his office to share. It’s really hard to eat just a tiny piece. The pretzel toffee bark the perfect combination of sweet and salty, buttery and chocolatey. Y’all! This stuff is SOOOO good! Like seriously delicious.

#Christmas crack recipes cracker

Get more ideas in this post: 5 Ways to Top Your Christmas Cracker Candy.Today I get to share with you one of my all time favorite recipes: Christmas Crack (also known as Pretzel Toffee Bark)!! While the chocolate is still melty, sprinkle on a half cup of chopped nuts, coconut flakes, crushed pretzels, dried fruit, or anything else that strikes your fancy!.Or add a drizzle of white chocolate over top! Swap the dark chocolate for any other favorite chocolate.Swap the saltines for Ritz crackers, graham crackers, or any other cracker.Next time, try a different brand of chocolate. Sometimes despite all your best efforts, the chocolate melts at a temperature that makes it shrink when it hardens, pulling it away from the toffee layer. If you need to freeze, let the crackers warm up for about 10 minutes before cracking. Freezing means the layers cool rapidly, which can sometimes cause them to separate. Cool overnight in the fridge (not the freezer).Or pop the pan in a 300☏ oven for a minute or so. If your chocolate isn’t melting or spreading easily on the hot toffee (or caramel and crackers) in the sheet pan, use a hair dryer to re-melt the chocolate until it’s workable.(If you forget and the caramel cools, just pop it back in the oven for a few minutes. Let the toffee layer cool for 1 minute and no longer! The toffee needs to still be quite warm for the chocolate to stick.Make sure your chocolate is fully melted so it's ready to go when the saltine toffee layer is ready.These chocolates have more of a tendency to become brittle and separate from the cracker layer. Avoid chocolates with a really high percentage of cacao.But when they melt, the coating can prevent the chocolate from sticking to the toffee. Chocolate chips have a non-melting coating to help them keep their shape. Use chopped chocolate instead of chips, and the chocolate layer will be more likely to stick.Here are a few tips to help prevent that from happening: The chocolate layer separating from the caramel layer is a common problem with Christmas cracker candy. We agree, hence this recipe's new name "Christmas Cracker Candy." But several readers wrote asking us to change the name because it makes light of something that is a very real addiction for many people. We used to call this delicious treat "Christmas Crack," which is its most common name.

[lazyevaluationranch]

On a post about the Blue Haired Girlfriend's quixotic citrus breeding experiments, @voidingintotheshout​ asked:

I mean, if you wanted a hearty citrus relative, why didn’t you just grow Osage Orange? They can grow as far north as Michigan which is surely further north than anyone could reasonably expect to grow a citrus tree. They’re not edible but then hearty orange isn’t either. Osage Orange are so cool and such a interesting historical plant from the Shelterbelt era of American agriculture. Apparently they do smell like citrus.

This is part three of three. Part one. Part two.

Now you've done it! It's time for A Very Brief (But Also Insufficiently Brief) History of Twentieth Century Hardy Citrus Cultivation! Growing citrus trees this far north is kind of nuts, it's true, but I promise you it is not even close to the weirdest things people have done to grow citrus in places where the citrus doesn't think it should grow.

A note: This post will written using the Swingle citrus taxonomy system, including things that are definitely wrong. The citrus taxonomic tree looks like that one box of orphaned computer cords I keep moving with me to new houses "in case I need them" except some sort of adorable five-dimensional kitten has entertained herself with them and some of the resulting knots are not technically possible in our space-time continuum. 

The powers that be gave us citrus because nothing pleases them like seeing a geneticist cry.

1. The Migrant Trees

The Soviet Union wanted lemons for tea, and they wanted to be independent enough not to have to trade with anyone else to get them, which meant they wanted to grow their own citrus. That part of the world is not a great place to grow plants that die when the temperature goes below zero, but at the foundation of the Soviet Union, there were citrus orchards in the warmest part of Georgia, along the Black Sea. Specifically, there was about, uh, one and a half square kilometers of somewhat implausible citrus orchard.

Hang on, it is about to get way less plausible.

This is the great citrus migration: any tree that did well in one spot, they'd try planting its seeds a few kilometres further north, or a few kilometres further east. Prizes were offered for breeding hardier citrus. Slowly the orchards spread, but they were extremely weird orchards.

It's usually a few degrees warmer at ground level than up in the air, and there's way less wind. So as the trees grew, they were bent over and tied along the ground. Some of them had the central trunk run in a straight line along the ground, with branches spreading out from it like the leaves of a fern, like an espaliered tree on its side. Others were starfish shaped, with the central trunk looped down until it ended up next to the base, and the branches sprawling out along the ground from the centre like starfish legs. The citrus trees were no taller than particularly vigorous strawberry plants, but they survived the winters, and you could throw a blanket over them to help them stay warm.

None of that helped if the ground froze solid, so they needed Underground Citrus. You'd dig a ditch, down below the lowest area where the ground froze, and you'd plant flat Starfish Trees or Flat Frond Trees running along the bottom of it, too deep to freeze. In winter, you'd just cover the ditch with boards any time the temperature was expected to go below freezing - citrus would tolerate the lack of light, but not the cold. Mandarins (Citrus reticulata) seemed to do best, so that’s most of what was grown.

It is a nearly unimaginable amount of work to grow citrus this way, along the bottoms of pits and trenches. We are experimentally trying to grow a Soviet-developed mandarin breed of unknown parentage, Shirokolistvennyi, but we will definitely not be putting in that level of effort.

2. The Mixed Up Trees

There are a couple species of citrus that tolerate cold well, but taste awful. A lot of effort has gone into crossbreeding them with more edible citrus. The results are ... mixed.

The Ichang Papeda (Citrus cavaleriei) generally survives temperatures down to -18 degrees C. It is stoic and calm and has mastered emptiness. Unfortunately, it has mastered emptiness too well. The fruit smells like lemons, with maybe a hint of rose, but there's nothing to eat here. It has a rind and seeds. No juice, no flesh.

(Photo by Michael Saalfield)

The Ichang Papeda is the parent or grandparent to several delicious, extremely sour Asian citrus types. Yuzu/yuja smells like grapefruit and clean wet stones from the bottom of a fast-flowing stream. Sudachi smells like grapefruit and leaves with dew on them. (I haven't met kabosu or any other papeda hybrids personally, but they are numerous.)  They're all too sour to eat plain, unless you really need to turn your face inside out for some reason, but make for excellent flavouring. 

(We have a yuzu tree and a sudachi tree and they're surviving, but no fruit yet.)

Trifoliate orange (Poncirus trifoliata) can survive temperatures down to -30 degrees C. This may be partly because, uniquely amoung citrus, they can drop leaves in autumn or winter and regrow them in spring, like a maple tree. They also produce an internal antifreeze. They are angry, twisted, thorny little plants that yell swears when you walk past them. They make a great hedge. The fruit is furry, smells like flowers and pine trees and taste like burnt, bitter plastic. It may or may not be possible to breed the horrible taste completely out of trifoliate oranges without losing cold-hardiness, if it's due to their antifreeze chemicals. Here’s Stabby:

(Photo by Rob Hille)

Even the least terrible trifoliate crossbreeds are bitter enough to qualify as “acquired tastes.” There are recipes for trifoliate marmalade: put a dozen trifoliate oranges, a kilogram of sugar, and a kilogram of pebbles in a pot, cook until it gels, then sieve out the oranges and eat the pebbles. 

We are growing a trifoliate orange / minneola orange hybrid. And, of course, someday our own trifoliate hybrids. The Blue Haired Girlfriend planted 200 trifoliate oranges a couple years ago. There are fewer now, but the survivors have lived through two winters of snow and frost, and they might have somehow gotten more stabby. We're going to breed them, to each other or to less angry fruit, try and make something new and good from them.

I've limited this post to twentieth century hardy citrus breeding, but I have to give a shoutout to somatic hybridization, a decidedly twenty first century technique, where you take a cell from each of two different plants, remove their cell walls, put them next to eachother, and shock them with electricity until they merge into a single cell whose nucleus contains all genes from both plants. Then the new plant is like, "Wow, I guess these are all my genes? It seems like a lot, haha, but it's not like somebody made me from dismembered body parts and electricity, that is not how science works. Anyway I guess it's time to do some plant stuff now."

3. The Mutant Trees

In the 1950s, people started using radiation to randomly scramble the genes of plants. You'd irradiate seeds enough to change the genes somehow, and then you'd have to plant them to see what had happened. Maybe it was people horrified by the atomic bomb desperately wanting to find some life-supporting use for atomic fission, maybe it was government-supported cold war "atom bombs are good actually, look how many we have, USSR" propaganda. Probably both. 

This time period also saw serious plans for Orion, a spaceship with a huge metal plate for a butt, intended to be propelled by exploding atomic bombs under it, which I am not actually making up.

Thousands of people in Europe and the US signed up to receive seeds with random mutations in the mail, plant them, and report back on what they heck they grew into and if it had any useful weirdness. (The gamma radiation used to mutate the seeds did not make them radioactive themselves - the seeds were completely safe.) There were also more formal and carefully controlled university research programs in China, Japan, and the US, where plants where grown in a circular research garden with a coverable radiation source at the centre, so that the farther you got from the centre, the less radiation the plants got. Radiation breeding is less popular than it used to be, but Japan still has a very productive citrus radiation breeding program.

The most popular radiation-bred citrus is the "Rio Red" grapefruit and its offspring, which has a much deeper red than non-mutant red grapefruit.

There aren't many radiation-developed citrus breeds noted for cold-hardiness - with radiation you get whatever you get  - but there are a few, and I want one just because I think they're neat, a monument to that lovely human vision that looks at terrible weapons and somehow sees glossy-leaved trees with bright fruit.

4. The Monster Trees

Citrus are usually grown via grafting. That is, you plant a seed from a fast-growing sturdy breed, you let it grow roots and all that, and then you cut the top off and replace it with a branch from a more delicious breed. The two citruses grow together, and you end up with a tree that's disease and cold resistant in the roots, below the graft, but makes tasty fruit above the graft.

Occasionally, this process goes Wrong. 

The first recorded instance is the tree called Bizarria, discovered in 1640. Someone attempted to graft a sour orange branch onto a citron. But instead of a clean line between sour orange branches and citron roots, the graft was damaged somehow, and the two different species of cells got tangled and mixed through the whole tree. It has branches that produce citron fruit. It has branches that produce sour orange fruit. And it has branches that produce, uh ... these:

(Photo by Labrina)

Most graft chimeras are made accidentally, when the graft site is damaged. Trifoliate orange is often used as rootstock, so there are many reported chimeras involving trifoliate orange and a nicer fruit. The mixed-up cells can be arranged a lot of ways, but it's possible to have the outside layer of the tree be trifoliate orange, and the core of the tree be the other citrus (periclinal chimera). This means you could theoretically get a tree with frostproof trifoliate leaves and branches, but fruit that doesn’t taste like burnt plastic rolled in quinine.

This lucky monstrosity has, in fact, reportedly happened. Twice. There is the Prague Citsuma, discovered in a greenhouse in Prague and suspected to have been created by a Soviet breeding program. And then there is the Hormish, discovered in China and thought to have been made by frostbite messing up the clean lines of the graft. The Blue Haired Girlfriend has managed to track down budwood from the Prague Citsuma - I’m so excited! - so we'll see how the fierce thorny monster tree with a heart of gold, or at least heartwood of gold, does for us.

5. Conclusion

Humans have been trying to grow citrus trees where they don't belong for nearly two thousand years, at least since the Jewish Diaspora and people trying to grow holy etrog trees - trunks gnarled as barnacle stones and the whole tree scented like the best dream you can't remember - in Europe. Maybe longer.

The Blue Haired Girlfriend's citrus-breeding schemes aren't going to singlehandedly transform Canada into a net citrus exporter. But history shows us: it might be possible to have a little gleaming sweetness from the stony ground here, with the ravens and the fir trees and the auroras. A sweetness we made ourselves, that exists nowhere else. 

Or maybe we'll just have a bunch of weird inedible fruit. I don't know, but it's worth finding out, worth weaving together leaf and thorn and stone and the light of our hands as the years unwind. Worth it to have a quixotic project we can expect to spend decades on together, hands and hearts. This is how home is made, sometimes, with a balcony full of angry thorny little trees that shout swears at passerby.

[itsclydebitches]

Why do people get hung up on whether a gay person in media is a good or bad representation of them? I'm gay and I can tell you we aren't all the same? Being gay is our 1 common trait. So as long as they're gay then you've done it. Gay people can be kind, mean, racist, open, kinky, reserved, shy, outgoing, sexist, and literally anything else under the human experience.

Because I am perpetually hungry, let's tell a story about cookies.

You are a bright-eyed, optimistic, baker in the making. Your goal is to wow the world with your culinary skills, so of course you head to The Best Baking School for your degree. Over the course of your studies you learn how to perfect a thousand different cakes, an equal number of pies, and more versions of brownies than most would even assume exist. But cookies... oh, cookies are your passion! You can't wait to learn about the wealth of cookies you can make too. Then, sure enough, that part of your education finally arrives.

Funny thing is though, it's just chocolate chip.

Surely there's been some mistake? The cookie experience is vast and nuanced! Why in the world are your instructors — supposedly the best in the world — reducing cookies to a single class about baking chocolate chip and chocolate chip alone? Hell, why are cookies so sparse in the curriculum as a whole? You're never asked to bake them as a demonstration, or practice with them, and they're definitely not a given across everyone else's baking experience. Cakes, pies, and brownies... they're the default. Cookies are comparatively rare and when you do get to study them, everyone is super focused on the chocolate chip.

Then you graduate and head out into the world, only to find that pretty much everyone is as cookie-blind as your school. A few years back you never would have found cookies in the average grocery store and yeah, the fact that there's a cookie section now is great, but it's, uh... all chocolate chip! Many bakeries still don't carry cookies at all, but when they do it's - again - chocolate chip. Chocolate chip out in restaurants. Chocolate chip at the bake sale. Your friend invites you over and proudly presents a massive sweets tray that includes a single, sad looking, chocolate chip cookie. They beam at you in pride. Isn't it so great?

"Uh..." you say. "Well..."

Every once in a while someone will switch out milk chocolate for dark chocolate, or add nuts alongside chocolate chips. One bakery was even crazy enough to exclude chocolate chips entirely! Crazy according to the press, anyway. Because for years now you've been shaking your head, wondering what exactly is so progressive about realizing that sugar cookies exist. You've found other bakers interested in cookies and, by god, there are thousands. So many flavors! Gluten free and allergy conscious! Someone even made a sweets tray that was predominantly cookies, can you believe it? The problem is, almost none of them are mainstream. Your friend baking cookies out of their personal kitchen is doing fantastic work, but their baking doesn't have the impact that those grocery chains and established bakeries do. Their work isn't going to fix your school's curriculum. Too many people still think that cookies are exotic somehow. They're not the default. And when they do acknowledge their existence, it's chocolate chip over and over. Until one of them adds those nuts and suddenly the whole country is losing its mind about how inspired, creative, progressive their baking is. Meanwhile, you're ready to scream because that baker doesn't even know that something as "exotic" as a gingersnaps exist!

The worst part? Most of these cookies are... bad. Like they exist, yeah, but good god most don't taste good. And that's the whole point of a cookie?? What is the point of buying cookies if the cookies themselves are awful? You go to these bakeries, these restaurants, your friend's house, and you try the very limited cookies on offer, only to find that they've been sloppily baked. Doesn't anyone care that the baker burned their cookies to a crisp? That another straight up forgot to add sugar? This one dropped his on the floor and still tried to serve it to you! But the overall sense is that you should be grateful for getting any cookies at all. "That cookie is an offense to my taste buds," you say and people shake their head at you, disappointed. "I liked the taste of it," one says. "If you don't like it, go buy a different cookie!" Well... easier said than done. "It's not that bad," another says, shrugging in defeat. "I mean yeah, I don't really like it, and the baker stopped making them two years ago... but I'm just happy to have had any cookie at all, you know?" You do know, but that doesn't mean it's any less frustrating. You look at the hundreds of cakes available, these bakers spending decades perfecting their recipes, and wish cookies had even a fraction of that work put into them. You find people who agree with you, absolutely, but there's this this prevailing sense that a cookie is a cookie. Any cookie will do. Supposedly.

Except go long enough and you feel like you're ready to lose your mind. You take some poor person by the shoulders and go, "Doesn't this bother you? Doesn't this make you furious? There is more to the cookie world than these three flavors, 90% of which is chocolate chip! And we deserve well-made cookies, not the crap they've been upholding as the next culinary masterpiece!"

But this person just shakes their head. "Well of course there's more to cookies than three flavors. There's a huge variety of cookies! I know that."

"Yes, but the world isn't selling that variety."

"Of course they are! Just last week I had an oatmeal raisin. That's amazing!"

"Yeah and how many years did it take you to find that?"

"Well..."

"And how did that oatmeal raisin cookie taste?"

Your prisoner pulls a face. "Ugh, not good. Oatmeal raisin is definitely not for me. It's hard as a rock! I really don't understand why someone would want to eat that on a regular basis."

"But it's not supposed to be hard as a rock!" you cry, waving your arms. "That's the problem! Oatmeal raisin is so goddamn rare and then the one time we get it, it was badly baked. Of course people are turned off by it. Everyone who already loves oatmeal raisin is getting pissed because their favorite cookie is misrepresented, they're unlikely to see more of them now, and everyone is still serving the most tasteless chocolate chip cookies I've ever had, acting like this is the pinnacle of cookie baking! Do you even know that a macron exists?"

The person pats your hand consolingly. "Of course I do. My roommate's sister's boyfriend used to bake macrons, you know. I don't know why you're so hung up on this. Cookies can be whatever the baker wants them to be. Provided they're a flat-ish sweet cake, they're still a cookie!"

You hang your head, giving up. "Yes, they can be so many things, but they're not. Let me know if you ever find a bakery actually making the variety you keep acknowledging exists. Bonus points if those cookies are edible. My soul if they're delicious, as a cookie should be."

"You know," they say, still patting your hand. "There's a bakery making chocolate chip with dark chocolate next year. Everyone is talking about it. You should think about buying one before they take it off the menu!"

You contemplate just walking into the ocean.

Now, incredibly long metaphor concluded... switch out "cookies" for "queer rep"! The representation matters because no, just making them gay isn't enough right now. You're right that queer people can be anything under the sun, but right now media isn't providing us with that variety. It's not enough to acknowledge that such variety exists, it actually has to make it into our books and onto our screen. Taking just characters who identify as gay and putting aside the HUGE variety of other identities for a moment (of which we are mostly lacking in terms of rep), where are the gay asexuals? The gay people of color? The disabled gays? Trans gays? Did your gay character appear for just a handful of episodes? Were they killed off? Are they nothing more than a stereotype or comic relief? Is this the only gay character in your entire story? We need to ask questions like this because though gay people can be anything under the sun, our media landscape has only shown a miniscule portion of that variety.

Today, even in 2021, our representation of gay people is still pretty limited to:

You are only coded as gay and evil

You are only coded as gay and queerbaited

You are canonically gay, but a cis, ablebodied, white person

You are canonically gay, but were written terribly/killed off/punished by the narrative/generally making the real gay people watching you feel awful about their identity

You are canonically gay, but you're not human. Gotta other the queerness by making you an alien/robot/fantasy being

You are canonically gay and that's your entire existence. There is one (1) narrative of how you knew by the time you were four, never questioned your identity after that, suffered through a family that rejected you, and now all your major arcs revolve around being gay. You are gay and that is it.

Despite being a list of six, that's still incredibly limiting. Are there exceptions to such a list? Always, but that doesn't mean the list isn't still dominating. We can look at any individual gay character and say, "Of course they can be evil/white/killed off/a joke/etc. because gay people can be anything at all," but when we look at the trends, when we look at ALL the media together, we see that gay people aren't actually depicted as being anything... they're depicted as being these handful of things, severely limiting how gayness is represented. Bad rep. If you hit up the bakery and question why there's only versions of chocolate chip available yeah, the baker can go, "But cookies can be any flavor! Including chocolate chip!" They are not, technically, wrong. The problem is not that chocolate chip exists, but that chocolate chip dominates and other flavors are rare, ignored entirely, or baked so badly it's actively damaging to that flavor as a whole. Yeah, your gay character can be mean. Or kinky. Or murdered by the story. But when so many gay characters are mean and kinky and murdered by their stories — when you're not getting other versions to balance that out and gay characters are still rare enough that it's just 1-2 characters trying to carry representation for an entire franchise — you start realizing that the claim of "Gay people can be anything else under the human experience" is an easy way to shut down the conversation of whether that variety actually exists in our storytelling yet.

It's not enough for the baker to acknowledge that yeah, of course there are hundreds of cookie flavors and of course cookies taste great! They've actually got to learn how to bake them properly and fill up their store with them.

[achliegh]

Happy

Alright my chickpeas, my little garbanzo beans (Wtf am I even saying) I am here to bring you the “Happy we-did-it Ending”. This one was really difficult for me to write because when it comes to good endings my mind just calls them fake. Which… I mean this is fiction so why can’t it be happy. Sorry if this sucks I tried my best. Please Read at your own risk! This is a triggering fic.

Love, Your Trash Monster

CW/TW: Past Abusive relationship, Anxiety, Depression, Panic Attack, past age difference relationship (Illegal)

Part1 Part2 Part3

Characters belong to @lumosinlove

Besides Luka, I made him up, don’t care for him tho

Leo's leg was bouncing uncontrollably, he and Sirius waited for Coach outside his office, He was grateful for Sirius like he felt indebted to him even though they only talked for maybe a half hour. He runs his hands through his hair for what feels like the millionth time.

“What if he doesn’t believe me?” He didn’t mean to say it out loud but when his captain turned and gave him a soft look, he realized he did. He looked down at his hands in his lap and picked at a bandaid. It was one of the Hello Kitty ones Logan bought on accident. “I mean I have no proof of any of this happening, What if Coach thinks I just dislike Luka for no reason and am trying to ruin his life or something like that… It wouldn’t be the first time an adult hasn’t believed me. I mean, there's that double standard that “Men don’t get sexually abused and if they do they don’t cry about it” it's why I never even told Finn and Lo until a few weeks ago. I didn’t want them to think less of me.” He smiles a little at the bandaid he was messing with and thinks about how lucky he is that his boys still love him. “I’m so lucky”

“I get it.” Sirius looked up just in time to see Arthur walking towards them. He smiles a little and stands with Leo next to him.

They follow Arthur into his office and sit down.

“So, is this about all the concerned people who have been telling me something is wrong with Leo?” His brushy red eyebrow lifts and he crosses his arms leaning back in his chair. “I was also told by a little Russian bird that there was an argument in the locker room between you and Luka. Leo whatever is going on it has a lot of people worried.” He leaned forward and set his hands on the arms of his big office chair. “Leo, you know I treat everyone of my players like my sons.”

Leo takes a shaky breath and clutches his hands together tightly in his lap. Gulping down the fearful frog in his throat he meets Coaches eyes. “ What I'm going to tell you is something I’ve only told to a few people. I don’t have any proof anymore, but I need you to believe me Coach.” He feels Sirius put a hand on his arm as a comforting I’m here motion. He told Arthur and Sirius everything, not leaving out any detail that he was comfortable enough to share. It was everything from the good, loving parts of the relationship that made him sick to his stomach now. To the horribly, hellish parts of the relationship that made him choke on his own tears. Leo didn’t think much of it back then (he was a little preoccupied trying not to break) but he remembered that most of Luka and his friend would film things with Leo because they thought it was funny to see him suffer or to save for later to use as blackmail on anyone in the videos.

“Wait, you said he filmed these things?” Arthur, who had turned white as a ghost and had a furious glint in his eye, started drumming his fingers. “Do you think he would have kept these videos throughout the two years you’ve been apart.?

“I know for a fact he's kept them” They both look at him with wide eyes and a silent invitation to explain. “He would ask me if I wanted to see them… or remake them” Talking about all this as making him feel like he was gonna puke. He had a foul taste in my mouth. Arthur put his head in his hands, he's devastated that he let such a fucking asshole interact with his team. That he let his youngest player suffer like that.

Sirius had stood abruptly from his chair and was pacing behind Leo’s chair with his hand interlocked on the back of his neck. He exhales deeply, seething with anger. How could he let this go on so long, he had picked up on Leos habits because Remus had pointed out how similar the two of them were at times. He feels like he failed as a Captain for not doing something sooner.

“Is there anything we can do, Coach? I mean, can we at least fire him?” He stopped pacing and ran a hand over his face, taking a deep breath as he looked at the young kid next to him. How was he so good at hiding his pain? People would say that Sirius was good at that too but everyone on the team has seen him crack and spiral. Leo was always this calm, collected, cool support. He acted so mature for being so young and it was all clicking in his head. Everything about this 19 year old goalie was formed from the love and support of his family, but also the hate and abuse from a lover. He has experienced more than most people on the same team as him that are older than him.

“We can fire him, and if we do call the police, they can seize his electronics. If he really does still have those videos they could lock him up for CP because you were underage at the time. Nothing is guaranteed though.” He's deep in though, sometime during the processing of everything Leo had told them he had grabbed his laptop and was furiously typing an email to the Lead of the Organization. He hit send and looked up to the two hockey players. “I’m going to talk to Mr. Godic and Luka together. I already had a meeting with Mr. Godric today about next year's fundraisers but this is a more important topic.” he stands up and looks at Leo “Thank you for telling me Nut. That was very brave of you” He smiles weakly and Ruffles Leo’s hair. “If you ever need anything just let me know, okay?” He nods towards Sirius and walks out the door to his meeting.

“We should get you home, your boys are waiting.” He smiles softly as Leo stands and is taken by surprise when Leo pulls him into a tight hug mumbling “thank you” into his shoulder.

Leo was so happy, he felt lighter than he has in the last two years. He gets squeezed by the man he wrapped himself around and laughs wetly. When they pull away they both wipe their eyes and smile at each other. This was a new chapter to both their lives.

Sirius dropped Leo off at home after a stop at a drive through for an ice cream cone (that he may or may not have dropped on Sirius’ floor and got an annoyed glare) he walked in the front door and was talked into a pile of limbs and smothering kisses. He laughed freely and kissed both his boys sweetly and conveyed so much love.

As the Cubs made dinner together and sang to a random playlist. Logan burned half the food and Finn dropped a third of it. Good thing Leo tripled the recipe so they had enough to eat for the night. Putting on a mind numbing cooking show they just waxed poetically about how much they love each other. Around 7:30 pm Leo's phone started vibrating and a picture of Arthur sleeping on the bus with Talker doing a thumbs up flashes on his screen.

“What happened?” He is very anxious about everything that could go wrong, all of that melted away when Arthur shared the news.

“He's been taken down to the station and his phone has been seized. He was angry when confronted and actually tried to take a swing at me before security was called. If this ends up going to court would you be able to, you know, stand trial. I mean telling your coach is one thing but a room of strangers is different. Especially because the media will be all over this case.”

Leo had to think about this, if he didn’t go and testify this case would only air on the local news. Then again, he could change people's lives. He could be a role model for people who are too afraid to tell about their experiences. That's worth more than anything. He may be shamed online but it doesn’t matter. He Needed to do this.

“Yeah, this is something I need to do.”

[juni-ravenhall]

sso healthy recipes idea

(this is NOT a project i would start being serious about sometime soon because i have way too much going on already! i want to focus on the horse game project as soon as im not crying everyday bc of the situation in israel for my gf + my health. and need to finish an ongoing commission.)

im attempting to start eating healthy again since this past week, and i decided that from today on i will try to start and stick to a pesco-mediterranean diet for the sake of my health. (which is not very different from how i used to eat 2.5 years ago before i had a massive breakdown due to abuse and stopped eating healthy.)

anyway, today i went shopping for lots of healthy food for the next few days, and it made me think: it would be fun to make a cookbook or just list of healthy recipes that are inspired by sso, my examples that i thought of while walking was:

- moorland; mrs holdsworth’s apple crumble with honey. bobcats’ pink smoothie. justin’s lasagna (i dont have a recipe yet but i would test some glutenfree and dairyfree options and figure something out). - marley’s baked potatoes, silverglade french potato salad, something w sweetpotatoes. (potato festival :D) - baroness’ grape-based fruit salad - björn and agnetha’s garden salad with optional edible flowers (and vegs cut/placed into flower shapes for serving) - valedale; elizabeth’s banana sourdough pancakes/bread (rye and oat based), some foods shaped like roses. - jorvik city; leonardo’s “nice cream” (different varieties). the harp café’s oat waffles. - dino valley; fruit popsicles, would be good to research some inuit food for insp too - something with cloudberries. sashimi. fish stew to warm up? - south hoof; seafood salad, shrimp crepes (glutenfree) - sunfield omelette, pulled chicken with corn - goldspur, something with healthy grains (the mills), maybe a bread. - fort pinta beach smoothie (mango, pineapple, coconut?)  - new hillcrest, jamie’s blueberry muffins (if i can figure out a good recipe) - some epona provencal recipes, ratatouille, chicken w herbs - jarlaheim; some medieval inspired recipes. jarlaheim medieval porridge - mistfall; some viking inspired foods + berries (need research). mb fried herring with lingonberries (personal fav). wildwoods - some “survival” vibe outdoorsy foods, maybe a trail mix / nuts or seeds bar. herds’ inspired berries and salad (could be colour based for herds like a red salad, purple/blue salad, green salad, as well as warrior one having more protein mb) - goldenhills pumpkin / pumpkin seed something (need research) - cape west fishing village, something w fish obvs (depends what fits thats not too similar to other fish recipes in the list) - firgrove; mrs packard’s pancake cake (sourdough oat pancakes base, maybe with coconut cream or homemade jam etc - figure out a nice cake). something with apples from the apple grove.  - winter village non-dairy hot cocoa with cinnamon (oat / soy / almond milk, etc, honey or dates for sweetener), some gingerbread type of recipe.  - midsummer feast meals? 

something i also thought about is wanting to use “horsey” food for many recipes, adding carrots, oats, apples. apparently flax seed is also used for horses a lot and is part of the diet i should be eating, so ill figure out what i like to use that for now that i start eating it. 

basically a long post of random food ideas i thought of while walking, feel free to reblog or message me if u have more healthy food ideas that would fit some sso location / npcs / holidays

[boonki]

something there, something more

a little continuation of a fever prompt, the first part here and the second part by @sonderwalker here! from this prompt list 

Cheers to our pining boys stuck together in the snow

______

The email he had been anxiously awaiting for dings his phone, and in the early morning light of his room, only a single lamp to illuminate the intimate space, he rolls over in bed to fumble it from the nightstand, blinking at the bright screen. 

To the University of Washington community, 

For the safety of our students and staff, classes have been cancelled for the day due to the snow conditions and road closures. Please wait for updates from your teachers on how best to proceed with assignments and exams. Updates on future cancellations will be issued nightly no later than 7 pm. Best, 

President Palpatine 

The same giddy relief that once met him as a college student still worms its way into his heart as a professor, an unexpected day off, no plans ahead of him, just hours and hours of free time. Except, he supposes, a quick email out to his students to continue their essays as normal and wait for the update on Friday’s class. He isn’t sad about losing the day’s lesson plan, it had mostly been a filler class. 

He hums lazily, a sleepy grin pulling his lips back. 

For the first time in weeks, he clicks the lock button and rolls over, stuffing his face into his pillow, and falls back asleep. 

___

Hours later, the sun already cresting in the sky, hidden behind layers and layers of clouds shedding snow, he pads around his kitchen, pulling ingredients out of his fridge and pantry: carrots, chicken, celery, chicken broth, some garlic, an onion, and some noodles. 

When he was younger, his mom had always whipped together chicken noodle soup on the colder days, and when she passed away when he was a teenager, he kept the tradition alive. In the silent, airy space of the kitchen, he feels closer to her cutting up the ingredients and carefully dropping them into the pot, can feel her gentle hand guiding him. The ache of her death has long since passed, but Obi-wan can’t help but wish she were here with him, oiling the stove for the chicken and passing him the garlic to press. 

Somehow, in the many, many years since her death, the habit of cooking for two hasn’t left him; every time he makes this recipe, he ends up with days worth of leftovers. 

The wood floor is cold beneath his bare feet; he didn’t think to put warm clothing on before coming downstairs, head still foggy from sleeping past noon. He knows his hair is sticking out in every direction, and that he could probably use a quick beard trim, but there isn’t anyone to judge him here. No pets, no roommates, just him and his big empty house. 

The smell of the soup bubbles up at him: rich and inviting. He takes a spoon and sips on the broth, using his teeth to grab a very hot carrot that mashes easily in his mouth, a good sign that he can turn the heat down to let it simmer while he gets ready for the day. Some small part of him knows his destination, but the majority of him is still in denial. He has so much soup to share, though. Why let it go to waste? Besides, it’ll be a quick drop off so he can come home and finish the blanket he’s knitting, maybe read a few chapters of his library books. There’s something about an expected day off that makes the mundane feel enthralling. 

He pads back upstairs, lost in thought as he goes through the motions of pulling a sturdy wool sweater over his head, brushing his teeth, combing his hair back, ignoring the shoddy state of his beard. Anakin had looked so horrible the other day, all pale skin and hollowed out eyes, his voice catching on itself, and god, his cough. Worry pangs Obi-wan’s heart, did Anakin have anyone to take care of him? Make sure he doesn’t die of a fever? He can’t go out in this weather to get take-out, and there’s no way he would be cooking with the state he’s in. 

In the back of his head, Obi-wan knows there are very large excuses he’s making for the car crash of the truth: he wants to go see Anakin. 

When he gets back downstairs, the soup is perfect. His mom would be proud. 

___

Snow cakes the road ahead of him, and what should have been a ten minute drive turns into a forty minute one. Obi-wan thinks he has at least six different knots in his back and neck from sitting so close to the steering wheel the entire time, peering intently through the fast-paced windshield wipers as if the effort of looking harder would have any effect on his ability to see in front of him. When he finally pulls up in front of Anakin’s apartment building and finds a neat little spot to back his car into, he lets out a deep breath and slumps into his seat. Maybe this was not as good of an idea as he had hoped it would be. 

He hadn’t even texted. Should he text Anakin? Is showing up at his door, soup in hand, too much? Too forward? Obi-wan is already anxious about pushing the bounds of their relationship too far; what if Anakin thought he was trying to groom him, thought he was a creepy old man with nothing better to do?

Obi-wan hits his head against the steering wheel. 

The weird thing is, he doesn’t mind how inappropriate their relationship had become. Obi-wan had liked coming to his building, liked texting him about casual plans. He just worries his enthusiasm is one-sided. 

It’s been so long since he’s had anything resembling a relationship, so he feels brand new to it again; it’s like riding a bike: the skill will never leave you, but if you take a ten year gap, you might need to wobble a bit before you glide. Obi-wan is wobbling. 

Because he does have a crush, doesn’t he? Isn’t that why he’s here, sitting in his cooling car with homemade soup, outside of some boy’s apartment building? Why else would he go to such measures- especially on his day off? God, he feels so juvenile. 

He hits his head on the steering wheel again. 

The cold is starting to seep through the seams of the car, so he takes a deep breath, grabs his soup, and steps out into the snow. It crunches underneath his boots, leaving a trail of footprints all the way to the door of the building, which swings open easily for Obi-wan. 

He fishes his phone out of his pocket. Anakin had texted which one he lived in, but it had felt too… like too much, last time he came. He hadn’t wanted to intrude on Anakin’s personal space.

#344. 

The elevator ride is both too short and too fast, his anxiety rising with each floor. What if Anakin didn’t like chicken noodle soup? He definitely should’ve texted. But the doors glide open and the wide expanse of the hall looms in front of him, stretching for what seems like forever in both directions. The floorplan seems to be circular; a little guide that reads “301-322 left, 323-344 right” with arrows points him in the right direction, so he sets off to the right, each step waking up a new butterfly in his stomach. 

When he reaches 344, he stares at the door for a moment, considering the fact that Anakin is on the other side of the thin wall, completely unaware of Obi-wan. Something yanks at him to turn back, but Obi-wan would feel even more pathetic if he went home with a full bowl of soup, and Anakin does probably need it, so. Here goes nothing. 

The bell ding-dongs from the interior, the sound muffled. Obi-wan hears nothing, and then slow footsteps and a lock being unlatched. 

Anakin is wearing his sweater. 

“Obi-w- Professor Kenobi, hey,” Anakin rasps out, eyes wide open, clearly startled, and sounding a bit better than he had a few days ago, but not by much. His bangs are held back by a little clip, shooting a tuft of hair straight into the air. “Sorry if I missed your text, I’ve been asleep-” 

“Ah,” Obi-wan shuffles in place, embarrassed. “I didn’t text, which I realize now that I should have, but-”

“No,” Anakin cuts in, “that’s okay.” 

They stand there in awkward silence before Anakin points at the bowl Obi-wan is clutching to his chest. 

“You brought soup?” 

Obi-wan looks down to the container like he’s never seen it before, cheeks burning like lava. “Yes! I, well, you see my mother and I always made soup when it snowed, and I always make extra, so I thought you’d, well,” he chances a peek at Anakin, whose features are slackened in a soft smile, “I thought you could use some given that you’re sick and it’s snowing.” 

“Have you eaten yet?” Anakin asks, ignoring his bumbling explanation. 

“No,” he thinks back, “I didn’t get the chance.”

Anakin drags his door open and steps back, gesturing for Obi-wan to come inside. “Let’s share, then.” 

Obi-wan balks at the open door, because he knows once he crosses that threshold there is no going back between them. He’d have officially been in Anakin’s apartment, sharing homemade soup with Anakin, taking care of him while he’s sick. The intimacy of seeing how someone lives, to see all the details of their existence on display, who they are when no one else is around… that sort of intimacy frightens Obi-wan. 

“I don’t want to be an imposition,” he starts, only to get cut off by a particularly nasty sneeze from Anakin. “Bless you.”

“You’re not, so come on.” Anakin reaches forward and tugs on his arm, and really, Obi-wan has no choice. 

While he had never actively imagined Anakin’s living space, he had always assumed it would be something akin to a sparse bachelor pad, dirty and meant for college students who couldn’t afford any better. But this is a pleasant surprise: a black rug and couch sits neatly against the wall of a tidy and cozy living room, branching off to a kitchen and a door Obi-wan assumes is Anakin’s bedroom. There are a few mirrors behind the couch, and a few (fake?) plants spotted around the room, even a candle on the coffee table. 

Anakin leads him into the kitchen and Obi-wan sees now this is where the mess lies; computer parts, nuts, bolts, tools, and loose wires scatter the counter, leaving little room for anything else save the sink and a hand towel. He stands there and waits for Anakin to clear a space for the bowl, muttering about how he didn’t know company would be over otherwise he would’ve picked up a little. 

Obi-wan doesn’t know if he even wants to ask what Anakin is making. 

The bowl is transferred into the microwave, cooking for a few minutes on low to properly reheat, and Obi-wan sets out to find some spoons so he’s not left in awkward, still silence. 

“Sorry there’s no table, I never really have anyone over and it takes up so much space, so,” Anakin is blushing, either embarrassed to have someone over or still running a fever. Maybe a bit of both. “Oh, here, in that drawer,” he motions to Obi-wan, crowding into his space to pull open the drawer. Obi-wan stiffens at their proximity; he can feel the heat pouring off of Anakin, and he grips the spoons like his life depends on it. 

They perch by the counter, listening to the hum of the microwave. 

“What are you doing during winter break?” Anakin asks him, breaking the quiet. 

Obi-wan breaths in, thinking of his answer. “I’m not sure, probably just relax. Maybe work on my library books, plan for winter quarter.” 

Anakin scoffs, and it turns into a full blown hacking spree. When he’s done, he winces. “Sorry, your plans are so sad my whole body freaked out.” 

He snorts. “My plans aren’t sad. What are you doing, then?” 

“Well, now that I’ve graduated, I suppose I should be looking for a job, so probably that.” Anakin stares up at the soup rotating in the microwave in contemplation. 

Something small and sad tugs at Obi-wan’s heart. He had forgotten that Anakin wouldn’t be around anymore. No more impromptu office visits. 

“But,” Anakin continues, “it would be nice to have help with my resume and interviewing.” He glances at Obi-wan out of the corner of his eyes. 

The microwave beeps: the soup is finished reheating. 

“Of course, I’d be happy to help.” Obi-wan says, warmth flooding his tone. He’s grateful that Anakin still wants him in his life, still wants his help. 

Anakin sniffles and splits the soup into two bowls, handing one to Obi-wan, who is still holding both their spoons. 

“You wanna watch something? We can sit on the couch.” Anakin says, and motions for Obi-wan to follow. Obi-wan tentatively settles into the couch, which is surprisingly cushy, as Anakin flips open Netflix and pulls up The Great British Baking Show. 

“Is this okay? It’s kind of addictive.” Anakin looks suddenly self-conscious about his choice in television, grabbing a set of glasses from his coffee table. They are way too big for him and nearly slide down his nose in seconds. Obi-wan might combust. 

“I didn’t know you wore glasses.” 

Anakin shifts. “Only to see long distances, I mostly just use them for watching things.” 

Obi-wan nods at that, and throws a hand up in the air towards the TV screen. “This is fine, I like cooking shows.” 

“They’re definitely my guilty pleasure, I’ve always wished I was better at cooking.” Anakin blows on the soup on his spoon, eyes glued to the TV.

The hosts introduce the challenge, and Obi-wan looks down at his soup, stirring it all absentmindedly. “I can teach you, if you want. My mom passed a lot onto me before she, well.” Obi-wan smiles at him. “I’d like to think I’m a pretty good cook.” 

Anakin pushes his glasses back on his face. “If the soup is anything to go by, I believe you.” 

He chuckles, shifting his attention back to the TV. Helping Anakin find a job, teaching him how to cook- they’re both just trying to find excuses to stay in each other’s lives. It’d be endearing if it weren’t so sad. 

The episode drags out, a winner is named and someone gets sent home, and Anakin and Obi-wan are long finished with their soup, the bowls having been discarded onto the coffee table a while ago. When the credits roll, neither of them get up, and the next episode autoplays. Obi-wan hopes he isn’t overstaying his visit, but Anakin seems comfortable and relaxed. Anakin offers him a blanket, and Obi-wan drapes it over his lower body, slouching further into the couch. 

Over the next few hour long episodes, they seem to inch closer, fully lounging now. Jokes are made, laughter is shared, and Obi-wan keeps handing him tissues, grateful that he isn’t wiping his snot on the sweater’s sleeve. 

He still can’t believe he’s sitting here on Anakin’s couch, watching a cooking show, while Anakin sits next to him wearing one of his sweaters. 

Maybe he is the one with a delirious fever? 

The fourth episode draws to a close, and Obi-wan spares a glance at one of the windows, where the afternoon had faded into evening. “I still don’t think she should have won, did you see the state of her frosting?” He stands up and stretches, sighing in relief when a few of his bones pop, laughing when Anakin’s do the same. “I should probably get going, though, it’s getting dark.” 

But when the pair make it to the window, they are greeted by glistening white, snow almost completely covering the cars parked outside. There’s no way he can drive home in this, and they both know it. The air seems to thicken between them. 

“Hey, you can crash on the couch and drive home once the snowplow has been through?” Anakin, though standing right next to him, seems miles away, his tone small and unsure. 

“Surely not, you’ve already let me stay long as it is. I’ll…” he trails off, thinking. 

“What, walk home?” Anakin supplies, shaking his head. “Absolutely not, you can stay. I don’t mind,” he places a hand on Obi-wan’s arm, “really.” 

“You’re right, I don’t have much of a choice.” Obi-wan laughs under his breath. Still, if he did have the choice, he’d want to stay. Not that he’d ever admit that to Anakin. 

Anakin takes the few steps back to the couch, grabbing a blanket and wrapping it around himself like a cape. “Well, should we finish the season then?” 

_____

It’s midnight by the time the pair are too tired to stay awake, drifting off into separate spaces. 

“Can I borrow something to sleep in?” Obi-wan asks Anakin, who is standing in the doorway to his room. From what Obi-wan can see, it looks a lot like the living room, all blacks and soft fabrics. 

Anakin’s eyes widen. “Uh, yes. Hold on.” He disappears into his room and comes back with a blue flannel pajama set. “Here, the bathroom is just across the kitchen.” 

Obi-wan takes the little pile of clothing from him with a soft thanks and retreats to the bathroom to change. The pants are entirely too long on him, and the shirt hangs on him, clearly meant for someone who has a little broader shoulders. But the set smells like Anakin, and Obi-wan wants to breathe it in forever. 

When he comes out, Anakin bites back a smile, holding his lower lip between his teeth. He doesn’t say anything though, and Obi-wan is both disappointed and relieved. 

“So there’s a bunch of blankets on the couch for you, let me know if you need anything else.” He says, backing into his room. 

Obi-wan clears his throat. “Of course. Goodnight, Anakin.” 

Anakin dips his head and closes his door. “Goodnight.”

In the dark of the living room, Obi-wan shakes the blankets out so they lay flat over the couch, and slips his legs under them to get comfortable, laying on back to stare at the ceiling. 

What a day. 

If someone had told him this was what his snow day would’ve looked like, he would’ve laughed in their face. Just under two weeks ago, they had been huddled together in his office, working on Anakin’s paper like normal. And now, he’s spending the night at Anakin’s apartment. And while Anakin technically isn’t a student anymore, and certainly not his student any more by a long shot, there’s still a sticky and uncomfortable unease sitting in his gut; he doesn’t know how old Anakin is, but Obi-wan is surely much older than him. Plus, he doesn’t know if there’s a power play at hand, what if Anakin just thinks he’s being a creepy old man and feels obligated to let him stay? 

But he thinks about the way Anakin’s flashed with happiness when Obi-wan laughed at one of his jokes during the show, the way they inched towards each other, Anakin’s face when Obi-wan came out of the bathroom in his pajamas. 

Needless to say, Obi-wan doesn’t get much sleep. Instead, he thinks about the fact that Anakin is also lying down, just a thin apartment wall in between them, and watches the large snowflakes drift down in silent waves outside. 

Obi-wan wonders if Anakin is sleeping in his sweater. He hopes he is. 

[andrawmedae]

A fireplace tale

The fireplace had always been Rowena’s favorite place to think. To fantasize, to ruminate, to bounce some ideas back and forth, even if, let’s be honest, she always ended up hurting herself with some gloomy thoughts.

At the edge of the tall pines, tremendous blazings had given way to dying embers, and the traveling companions divided the watch quarters among themselves.

As she stirred her spoon in the hot broth Sindri brewed, turnips and pine nuts along with some leftover bread, the young dwarf replayed in her head the events of the last days.

The party had been on the road for a few days, and the young bard was feeling a bit agitated, to say the least. How can one think about such trivial things when children are missing? How can one feel so jaunty and cheerful when talking to a special someone when some moments ago, people were murdered in front of one’s eyes? How can one(/cut)..

Sindri: … your soup?

Rowena: Sorry cousin, what?

Sindri: You need to eat a bit more Rowena, I think the night won’t be a quiet one, the woods are teeming with life, and I’m not sure it’s the affable kind.

Rowena: I… yes, yes I’ll eat up.

The two dwarves were sitting side by side on a heavy branch, by the fire where a cauldron was quietly bubbling. A few meters away, three makeshift tents stood tall, right on the fringe of some ominous pines. The warmth of the flames was welcome as the cool midnight breeze was beginning to pierce through the layers of adventurers' cloth.

Sindri: You don’t seem as chipper as usual, is something on your mind?

Rowena (not very convincing): Well yes of course I mean, the children are still lost, we don’t yet know what awaits us beyond these cursed woods, and the nights to come are not going to help me calm my mind.

Sindri: Rowena, I have roamed these lands for 200 years longer than you, and yet you honestly seem to think I can’t see when you are hiding something from me?

Rowena: Oh come on cousin, don’t play that old trick on me, truly it’s nothing in particular

Sindri (amused): Oooh I see I see. You know, it is my mind who is surely playing tricks on me, because I was quite confident it was related to yesterday. You know, the fact that when we decided to break the buddy system for last night’s vigil, and that you would have loooved finishing your conversation with Iaus(/cut)

Rowena (quick, afraid): Oy shut up, shut up they’ll hear us, you don’t know if everybody is asleep Sindri!

Sindri (joyful): Aha, perceptive as always your good Cousin Sindri, Heh? Rowena, you can’t fool me, it's not because my beard is whiter than yours that I no longer perceive the flicker, that flicker, in people's eyes.

Rowena: It’s not what you think, or not exactly, not all, I mean I (stumbles) (pause)

Sindri: What is it cousin? (pause) I’m sorry for teasing you a bit, I could not help myself. But it was so tempting, you know? I promise, you can tell me if you want to, you know I won’t judge you.

Rowena: Yes, yes I know, it’s just that I’m a bit embarrassed talking about that with you. I mean all I know about, you know, your love life, is that you have been married to Pia for quite some time now, which is wonderful of course, but that’s it! I don’t know all the foolishness from your younger years, the silly things you won’t tell without one or two tankards full of ale. So well it’s… weird I guess, for me, talking about that, because well, you don’t know much about me either, and a vigil doesn’t scream “Comfy and safe time for coming out to your long lost cousin”

Sindri: Coming out you say? Wait, I thought it was about Iaus?

Rowena: Well, yeah it kinda is? But at the same time it’s a little more complicated than that, and I feel a little uneasy about it. I’m 80 but I still feel like such a child! I mean (whispering) having a crush in these peculiar circumstances would already be a bit challenging to deal with… but having several, on people who know each other and work together it’s ooooh- I would love burying my head in the earth and disappearing.

Sindri: You know what little cousin? I think it’s time for me to tell you more about my -how did you put it, oh Pelor give me strength, - my love life, while you drink your soup.

Rowena: ...

Sindri: Well to begin with the part that you know(/cut)

Rowena (intrigued): The part that I know?

Sindri (amused): Rowena, it would be easier for me to tell you about that time if you drank your soup peacefully. Now, as I was saying, you know I’m happily married to Pia. Back in the day, it was as wanted the tradition, but our union was also beneficial to not only our two families, but a lot of other people. Some trades and arrangements were made, contracts and apprenticeships, we knew our clans would have some steady years as a result of our families becoming one. The part that you don’t know, and where I’ll be glad if you take a generous gulp right… (Rowena takes a spoonful) oh, thank you dear. I am so much more than Pia’s husband, and she’s so much more than Sindri’s wife. Because hmm, you know, when, you know when we met, well. There were a lot of people in the Crag you know? And… (silent)

Slowly, gently, Rowena swallowed her mouthful before sitting on the ground, in front of Sindri. She held his hand as she said quietly

Rowena: Were you in love with someone else?

Sindri (smiling, quietly): Well, as a matter of fact, I still am! Rowena, I have been in love with two wonderful people for over 100 years, who know each other and that I love both of them : my dearest Pia, who gives me love and strength everyday, and who gave me adorable children, and Amonak, who also gives me love and strength everyday.

Rowena (loudly): Oh my gooood that’s amazing!

Iaus (alerted/groggy/from afar): What? Are we being ambushed?

Rowena: (Oh shit, laughing) Sorry, no, all fine, you can go back to sleep! (lower, but very fast) Tell me more about Amonak, about everything!

Sindri: Hahaha, I’m glad to see your ardor, it warms my heart a little, being able to talk about both of them to my charming cousin, and to feel elated and relieved about it. I wish to tell you about the time where we met, because I assume you are experiencing quite a similar phase right now. I met Amonak before meeting Pia. He was about (/cut)my age

Rowena (bursting with joy but trying to keep her voice down): He? Amonak is a man?

Sindri (amused, lighthearted): Shhh, finish your soup first, you can grill me later! Yes, Amonak is a man, a dwarf from the FrostIron Moun(/cut)… (thinking) has anyone told you that the FrostIron Mountains folks are positively… open minded with who one should love? It is a sacred sentiment after all, a blessing, and when one lucky person falls in love with another, it is always celebrated fondly. When I met him, all I could see was a young dwarf radiating with such a calming but firm presence, so much aching but so much joy, and all I wanted to do was listening to him explaining passionately how one could smith a well-balanced axe, or how to cure a bad beer induced hangover. Yes, I may have experienced the last one while being cared for said hangover.

Rowena: Oh you need to tell me the secret recipe for that, Cousin

Sindri (light laughter): Aging 100 years should help you greatly! Being close to Amonak felt like floating in the clouds, bathing in the sunlight without suffering from the heat, feeling strong as Moradin, but as light as the wind too. The Crag was still the Crag of course, but thanks to him, the hardship seemed less terrible to endure. I won’t bore you with all the petty details, but we spent days discovering each other slowly and gently, then months sharing and caring for each other. A few years later, Pia and some others arrived in the Crag. She too made me feel like a ray of sunshine was brushing my ski, gently painting my cheeks pink each time she spoke to me. Some other newcomers were also fascinating people, I know for a fact that Amonak did bind with some of them. After all those years talking with the same company, It felt for both of us like a breath of fresh winter air… I could have convinced myself that I was 50 years old again. I took advantage of every stolen moment with Pia to get to know her, then the discussions got longer and longer, whether they were just between the two of us, with Amonak or the other newcomers. I was falling in love with her too. And it was such a delightful feeling, such a special blessing that I wanted to talk to Amonak as soon as I understood it.

Rowena: And you did? Were you not afraid of breaking his heart?

Sindri: Well to be honest, I don’t see one’s heart as a breakable thing. For instance, a mighty tree could be a beautiful picture to represent that strong force of nature, but I think it rather is closer to… well, water? It can bend, it won’t break. And yes, sometimes it can freeze, but with a little warmth, a soft conversation or a prayer it can easily melt back to an impetuous torrent, full of life and joy, full of light and love. I was not afraid of breaking Amonak’s heart. I knew that even if it froze for a bit, I could easily help my beloved unthaw it, making him feel unique and adored. But the beauty of this moment was slightly different that you could have guessed, because well, Amonak fell in love with one of the newcomers too!

Rowena: Nooooo, for real?

Sindri (amused): Yes, yes, “for real”. I don’t know if Pelor blessed us, or if I am one of the luckiest dwarves that ever lived, but since that day, my heart is held not by two, but by four hands, and it never felt cold anymore.

Rowena: Sindri, that’s so beautiful, thank you for sharing such a cherished memory, it makes me wanna burst into song.

Sindri: It would be an honor, but I don’t think our new friends would feel the same that late in the night!

Rowena: Haha, you are right. (pensive) Does it make this journey harder for you? I mean, I know for a fact that you did not see Pia for a long time, is it the same with Amonak?

Sindri: Well, sadly yes. I had to protect them both. But I’m gonna let you in on a little secret. When Pia and I got married, we enchanted our rings so that they could communicate with each other. It's not much, we can't have a conversation, but thanks to that, I can know if Pia is in good shape, if she is happy, and to know that it fills me with joy and serenity. And do you see that locket holding my cape? Everyone thinks that's a sigil for Pelor, a sun with a sunflower, that would be totally appropriate. But the truth is quite different as you will have already guessed.

Rowena: Amonak have the same sigil?

Sindri: Well not quite identical, Amonak is a cleric of Moradin, his own sigil has an anvil with a sunflower. Here let me show you. As Sindri places a hand on his locket, as to warm it a bit, he says with a gentle voice Sindri: Hello sunbeam, I hope you are alright.

Then, putting his hand on his knee, the sun began to revolve on itself, while the sunflower above it began to rotate in the opposite direction. A few moments later, two eyelid-like shapes opened, and a calm metallic voice responded. The Locket Warm. Love. Safe. Time

Rowena: Did he? It? Who?

Sindri: Amonak seems to be fine according to our lockets, and he misses me. ó elskan mín.

Rowena: That’s so… magnificent! Can you teach me how to do that? I could enchant my own harp and… well I have other instruments who can..

Sindri: In time I could show you that my dear, but I think you ought to yourself to have some heartfelt conversations with some other people over there, before saying Hey, this magical harmonica will tell me if you are alive and well, and by the way I have a crush on you

Soren: Oh, you have a crush on who?

[charmingpplincardigans]

January Kitchen Sink Check In

This is mostly for me, because I’m trying to become a better person this year, for varying definitions of the term ‘better’, and I like to see my progress laid out all organized like. It helps me move forward. So I’m gonna go through my Body/Mind/Money goals for January and note how I did and what I’m going to do moving forward!

BODY

Working Out: 

My two work out goals for the end of the year are to 1) be doing yoga semi-regularly and 2) be working out four days a week reliably, including the yoga. I’m working on easing myself into these (and all) habits, because I don’t want to overwhelm myself and give up on everything, so my goal for January was to work out one day a week. And I worked out *drumroooooooll* NONE! NOT A ONCE. I don’t have an excuse for this. Part of it was stress, part of it was depression, part of it was sheer laziness. I promise myself I’m gonna work out at least once a week in February, but also shoot for the two times a week that is the February Goal. 

Food: 

I have several overall food goals for the year. One is to give up soda near completely, or at least to break my addiction to it. The others are to start planning meals and eat less meat. For January I wanted to drink only two sodas a day (20oz max). I managed that 23 days out of 31. In looking at the calendar you can reliably match the days I failed to the days that were extremely stressful or anxiety ridden. I have a very bad habit in those moments of throwing up my hands and deciding that I’m a failure anyway so nothing matters. That’s definitely a mental tick to keep an eye on over the next few months as my job no doubt just gets more and more stressful. The other goals I did okay with. I decided to plan one meatless meal a week. New recipes I made in January were: 

Black bean soup

Moroccan sweet potatoes

Spinach lasagna

Black bean & sweet potato enchiladas

Do recommend most of them. The lasagna had way too much cinnamon in it, which was kind of weird. If I make that recipe again I’m gonna quarter the amount. But I might just find a different veggie lasagna to make. 

For February I want to drop the soda to one a day (12oz max), and start to plan to make two meals a week. I’m doing okay with meat, but I could for sure do better. It helps that I have started making THE WORLD’S BEST SANDWICHES for lunch. Probably just gonna eat those forever instead of ordering out Huey Magoo’s or whatever. (The sandwich is hummus, cucumber, and feta on toasted Good Seed bread. Try it!)

Doctor Things:

Uff. I need to figure out the CPAP issues and the chest pain issues. I absolutely despised the first mask they sent me for the CPAP. It gave me panic episodes and I was ripping it off IN MY SLEEP. Insurance refused me a new mask until April, but my doctor came in like an angel with a sample version of a different type of mask to try. This one is...better. I’m still not comfortable in it and it’s not appreciably helping my sleep. People keep telling me it’s going to change my life, but that has not happened yet. On the other hand I have friends who’ve tried to make them work for YEARS and never did, so I’m wary of this whole process, but still trying. 

I had a sort of fraught meeting with my cardiologist last week. My chest pain symptoms had been getting better as of October, but with the change in my job I’ve back slid almost entirely. I had a 36 hour period of chest pain two weeks ago. I go whole nights having every heart attack symptom in slow motion, but doing nothing about it because I can’t afford for the ER to tell me I’m fine five times a month. I cried when she asked me why I didn’t go to a hospital when that happened. I feel so helpless all of the time and I’m certain I’m going to die any day now, even though my heart is technically physically fine. Can you anxiety yourself into a heart attack? I THINK YOU CAN. She did tell me to try to speak to the psychiatrist again about anxiety medication. The last time I tried the woman I saw didn’t want to prescribe me anything. She told me to work on my sleep and come back. Welp! The cardiologist said that if that happens this time she’ll write a note telling her to prescribe me something. We’ll see. I need to try to make that appt this month. 

MIND

Therapy:

My therapist thinks I’ve done really well over the last year with working on myself and said out loud that she thinks I’m better at dealing with some things and am in a good position to move forward. But I’m so stressed right now that I just feel like I’ve fallen apart again. We’re meant to start on EMDR this week, but I’m going to have to put a pause on it so I can talk about how I’m at like, the lowest point of my life, which she will be very supportive of and then probably remind me that if we could just get to the EMDR and work with the older traumas this might not feel so dire. I’m just, on the struggle bus and too tired to do anything but freak out about that. 

Writing: 

I have so may creative goals this year! Too many probably! I should put some back! My creative goals for the year are:

Complete a rough draft of AMLD (10,000 words a month)

Complete and mail out the Girls Who Date the Universe chapbook

Complete and mail out any remaining art for people who helped me with the car fund

Work on poetry and short fictions (Monster Story?)

Actually check in to @gywo every month (10 days a month goal)

My creative goals for January were to write 10,000 words on AMLD, work on the extra poems for GWDTU, and send the remaining postcards from the car fund. And uh...look. I did work on writing. I worked on the chapbook layout and editing pieces that needed to be edited/replaced, because there are several. I did also work on the outline for AMLD, but didn’t write new words on it. Not anywhere 10,000 of them at any rate. 

The owing people art thing is just...it fucks me up, man. I have learned a huge lesson between the car fund and the patreon. I get so in my head about how these people deserve beautiful things and then I tell myself I’m not capable of making things worthy of them and then I put off doing the thing because I want to put off letting them down and then it just spirals from there. ALL THE WHILE I AM FOR SURE LETTING THEM DOWN. I realize this is both unhealthy and unprofessional. It’s why one of my goals this year is to clear all of this once and for all so that I can square myself away with everyone and try not to end up here in the future. 

So, the January Goals now get rolled up into the February Goals, which leaves the new list for the month at: 

10,000 words AMLD

Complete extra poems for GWDTU

Send postcards from car fund

Complete layout for Boston chapbook for car fund

I did check in for GYWO. 

Future Plans:

Part of letting off the pressure for the now for me is always about planning for the future. Not like, the actual future, I’m not starting a 401k, let’s not go nuts. But for something that is one step forward. In my notes for my year goals this is all about moving back to Boston. I need to set a date for it. I need to save money for it. I need to keep my job until after I’ve done it. But now I think this part needs to include notes about my job itself and the ways I can either move forward with it or move away from it once and for all. 

I talked to Lisa and Kait at the beginning of the year about the moving plan, and now I just need to talk to my apartment complex to see if it would be feasible to extend the lease to December or February without paying an exorbitant amount in rent each month. If rent ends up being more than $2k/mo for the extension then I’m just going to have to have to wait until June 2022. This frustrates me, because I hate not being able to just follow through with decisions once I’ve made them, but patience is another thing I’m working on eternally. My goal for February is figure out money stuff well enough and talk to complex and set a timeline. 

Work is. Wow. It’s awful right now. I still have my job, which takes up much of my days, but because of re-org I’m also having to learn a whole new job which would also take up much of my day. I can’t not learn this job, because the person who used to do it is in another department now too, so there’s no one to get the work done if I don’t learn to do it. But I also can’t do both. I CAN’T DO BOTH. An issue popped up last week with my job that literally brought my ulcer back. I asked my boss for help with it and she sent me a message at one point saying she wanted to cry about it. So like. She knows now, right? She knows I can’t do both jobs?? BUT THERE’S NO ONE ELSE TO DO IT SO I GUESS I JUST GET TO SLOWLY KILL MYSELF. I’m just so frustrated, and angry that these decisions get made without taking the people in them into account, and of course anxious and miserable. I’m currently dreading work in a way I haven’t since I was in text perms. It’s real bad. So I have to find a way to make it work or find a way out. 

My February approach to that is to finish this Love It or Leave It book and see if I can’t divine where my true motivation lies, and also to research library school. I kind of would rather not go back to school. Not because I wouldn’t spend my entirely life in school if I could. I WOULD. But because it’s expensive and time intensive and there’s no promise my life will be better after it’s over. But every job I think I want pretty much requires that masters, so. We’ll look into it at least. 

MONEY

Eating Out:

During the pandemic, one of my money sinks became DoorDash. I never used it before, because it costs literally twice as much as just going to get the food. (Also because I kind of like eating in restaurants alone. Ah, one day again I hope!) But the more afraid I became of the outside world, the less inclined I was to go into a restaurant to pick up take out, so I’ve had it brought to me. And I need to cut that shit out! I have food at home! My goal for January was to order out only 4 times a week. I managed this for three of the weeks, but when I blew it it was definitely those weeks at the very beginning and very end of the month where I was super stressed. The goal in February is to only order out 3 times a month.

Savings:

I need to open a high yield savings account. I’ve had the starting money for the move just sitting in my bank account making me no extra money for like, four months. The latest reason I haven’t moved it over is that I’m worried I’m going to owe a lot in taxes this year because of the partial unemployment I got. Hopes are that since it was a work share the taxes were taken out ahead of time, but I do not trust the government with my money as far as I can throw them, so. I’ll do my taxes this month and finally know for sure. And then I WILL move the rest of the money into a high yield savings account. I WILL. 

Also, every time my credit union savings hits a grand, I’ll move $500 of that over into the high yield account to put toward moving expenses. 

Budget:

I keep meaning to sit down and work out my new budget for 2021. I’m bringing home a little bit less in my paycheck because I changed my health insurance, and I’m also, of course, trying to save as much as I can ahead of moving so I don’t put anything on credit cards. (I’m doing so well paying those down!) This means I need to save everything I can and not spend money on stupid frivolous stuff. I’m not buying clothing like I did in the before times, but I AM spending too much money at Target still, because the app lets me just peruse any dumb idea I have and then pick it up that day! What a disaster! So, I really need to work something out. Or at least, I need to check my bank accounts more often and keep tabs on how much is actually going out. I have a bad out-of-sight-out-of-mind habit when it comes to bank accounts. Just another piece of me to try to cure this year.

And that’s it for January. I’m now late to bed because I’ve been working on this post for an hour and a half. Working on my sleep is also a goal, but we’ll see how exercise and the cpap handle that. Til next month!

[butterfly-winx]

Zenith

- Do you know about Zenith? No? I mean you own a computer so you must. I hear the whole planet is covered in one large city.

- Zenith lives up to its name, as it is regarded to be the home to the height technological development in the Magic Universe. It houses the more universities, research institutes and engineering testing fields on its tiny surface than Magics and Earth combined.

- Though it is true that the planetoid is covered with a seemingly uniform cityscape, there are patches of untended ground peeking through, mainly the polar seas.  Antitheva and Bitheva may only classify as large lakes elsewhere, but they are perfectly fit for a small planet of Zenith’s size. They even help populations of merfolk at some point in time.

- The overwhelming amount of construction covering the planet’s surface has long become its vice. With no reflective surfaces left and with machinery forced to operate day and night to fuel the latest technological advancements, the whole planet has become a singular heat trap. The seas were boiling and the air was unbreathably hot. What got research going however was the failing performance of their heavy duty machinery, screws sweating and bending out of shape, lasers blinking tired and unfocused. They devised a plan to cool down the surface of the planet by releasing agents to shield them from the thermal effects of solar rays, and achieved the impossible. Zenith’s climate has since then settled on a comfortable average of 250 K.

- The seas froze over and the merpeople disappeared - or maybe they did already during the boiling phase, out of their luck living off already dead fish. Urban development was given final approval and the last patches of earth disappeared from sight, buried under the striving for more.

- Despite its  aforementioned properties, Zenith is no monolith and it would be amiss to describe it as such. Zeniths countries and cultures are diverse, only connected by their burning need for advancement and their fight against the cold. They have a spectrum of governance forms in the different countries ranging from democracy, constitutional monarchy to representative republic and in some cases even direct democracy of people.

- As cities cover all of the planet, it is difficult to determine where individual settlements in a country begin and end. Country borders are the only demarcations, each government shielding itself with force fields, trenches or physical walls from imagined spies and malevolence.

- Techna’s home of Haikar is in a country that still tries to honour the memory of the separate settlements that have melded together. So Haikar is not a separate town as much as it is just a borough with its own town governance, and is considered to be the capital of Transjordan.

- Other Zenith country names with capitals where applicable: Tribilisi (Kandu), Gorgan, Nuzul (Xihat), Tbaku, Navyol, Urzghar

- Most of these countries don’t get along with each other too well. As is understandable, seeing as they are very culturally diverse. Each wants to be the best though and their most bitterly fought battles are usually over patent rights and the tenure of well-respected scientists. As banal as these reasons seem, as brutal are their methods of mutual sabotage to keep the leading edge.

- Transjordan unfortunately is quite small and has many neighbours, so their paranoia and battle readiness is markedly large even on planet. Growing up, Techna went through disaster and terror awareness training regularly, to the point where they could probably recite what to do in case you found a car bomb better than they could explain a simple recipe.

- Oh and are recipes important! As clean edged people think the inhabitants of Transjordan are, there is nothing minimalist about their food choices. They love combining spices and textures and always serve feasts with generosity rivalling Eraklyon’s. Deserts usually have some sort of fruits, nuts AND some preserve in them, the combinations endless.

- While it is true that for the most part, cultures on Zenith value a simple approach to things. If it can be done in a few words, why waste a sentence on it? Bureaucracy is usually a two-click-formula affair, their whole lives are condensed on a sigle digital display ID, shopping comes to you at home. Hell even marriages are just an affair of simple form signing.

- But food is where they really go full ham. It is not seen as frivolous to waste 10 eggs on a cake, because what you are doing creating nutrition and enjoyment. It is simply reasonable and efficient to go to the max when you do that and create an absolute delicacy you can gorge yourself on in one slice or less.

- So if they are so into feasting and enjoying things with purpose, what gives Zenithians such a bad name? Well, it is just that. People of Transjordan for example, like to enjoy things with purpose. They don’t really care much for music or theatre, they are just activities to air your brain out. They will import off-world made products, but there isn’t a lot of room for cultural arts on Zenith because they channel their passion elsewhere.

- Yes you heard right, Zenithinas have passion galore. They just, in the Universe's most efficient move, channel that passion into the work they already do. The majority of scientific discoveries have been made because somebody cared enough to look deep into a topic and push further, because previous answers were unsatisfactory. Children are coached to find something that inspires this level of devotion in them and have extensive education and support networks to get them there.

- On the topic of children: most of them aren’t the genetic descendants of their parents, rather a random selection from the common gene pool. The public gene pool is a hotly debated topic, but a long established structure of procreation that only the very wealthy have the option to contest. (There is a way to gain approval to sire an own baby from just the genes of two people, but it is extremely costly.)

 In some research some time ago it was determined that for the optimal survival of people on the planet, genetic relation to the parents raising the child was not only suboptimal, but actively detrimental to overall population survival. In this “more civilised” approach, parents apply for a baby who is conceived and birthed in bioreactors. This way no people who can conceive are put through undue stress and the public gene pool babies also carry less hereditary health conditions. It is supposedly a win-win situation, yet it leaves a sour taste in most people’s mouth. No wonder less and less Zenithians plan families if that is the process they have to do it by.

- As straightforward as they are, Zenithians often struggle when communicating with people from other planets and not only because of arising cultural differences. Sure any Zenithian would blush and pale when forced into a situation dealing with overly expressive Solarians, but in any other regular case, the Universal Translation Spell is not on their side either. Jordan is a very logical and to the point language and the floralitiy of other languages is impossible to be transferred to it. The UTS instead produces blocky, difficult to parse translations that often leave Techna confused to the intentions of others.

- It is of course evident that the main industry of the planet is electronics production and R&D. Companies on Zenith produce all manners of gadgets, but they are best in creating refrigeration technology (ironic, right?), astronomic instruments, self-propulsion transportation (vehicles) and medical diagnostic tools and applications. The associated application programming industry is also booming with server houses the size of smaller cities. It is no surprise that Zenith’s electricity consumption is through the roof with such a vital sector to support.

- Before their trade for electricity with Solaria, Zenithian people used static electricity discharges to harvest energy. Their planet being covered with one gigantic city didn’t leave much space for utilising the natural resources of their planet. All the mineral ore having been exhausted, no major flowing waters left and stranded with miserable and cold weather the options for energy sources were limited. What they had however was tall buildings and thunderstorms, so they used lightning harvesters for ages.

- With the storm and snow clouds obscuring the sky most days, Zenith is quite dark. The cities illuminate themselves, kind of like year round festive ornamentation.

- Spirituality is an interesting topic on planet that everyone you ask will have a different answer for. Major parts of Tribilisi and Urzghar for example believe in machine assisted immortality. They see machines as superior to biological matter and work towards the unfallability and omniscience of artificial intelligence in which part of their conscience will be able to rest after death. The predominant belief in Transjordan that Techna grew up with is that after death, there is nothing. Based on the theory of energy conservation, what one doesn’t use and convert into heat will be redistributed into the rest of the world. It is selfish to think one could hold on to any energy after death.

- Most people also don’t care for magic. Sure some magic users crop up among them here and there, but they most likely remain untrained. This is why Techna chose a school off planet to pursue their passion and why they weren’t claimed as a Guardian fairy of Zenith after they graduated. (Since this position doesn’t exist.)

- Almost all things on the planet are solved non-magically accordingly. Their transport systems are unparalleled with some regions using small-distance whole structure replication, aka honest to god matter teleportation. The frozen over seas are also fully utilised with air cushion containerships cruising the flat expanse. Along a certain longitude Zenith also sports a unique feature: the longitudinal crust train. A four meter wide segment of the planet, as if cut out of the surrounding cityscape, moves on straight rails around the whole circumference of the planet. It is the fastest mode of civilian transport available.

- They need all the good transportation and radio transmission they can get - by the way, the Universe Wide Web is also a Zenithian invention, who would have thought - as with their living space limited, Zenithian countries have spilled over onto nearby moons, essentially colonising and terraforming those.

- So, you see, Zenith and either of its countries aren’t by far as boring as one might think on the first glance and most of them certainly don’t shy back from showing emotion.

[bubbyleh]

I See La Vie en Rose - Chapter 5

cw for mentions of an attack. no specifics are given, but if that’s bad for you, skip coomer’s whole speech.

Chapter 5: Something About You

Darnold closes his old notebook with a sigh. “I got nothing. What about you?"

"Uh." Tommy looks down at another notebook. "Potion of taste good?"

The two of them are sat on the floor of Darnold's apartment next to a bookshelf. Sunkist lays next to them, snuggled up next to Darnold and every so often offering him a kiss.

Tommy may be a little jealous of the dog.

"No, that won't work," Darnold laments. "I based some of my first experiments off that one." He sighs and falls against Sunkist, who offers a few happy licks and tail thumps. "What else is in there?"

Tommy flips through a few pages. "Potion of- of levitation?"

"We are not inventing fizzy lifting juice."

"Potion of grapes?"

"That's, er… that's actually really dangerous. It turns things into grapes."

Stifling a grimace, Tommy looks forward in the book until something catches his eye. "Potion of… trans your gender?"

"Oh," Darnold's eyes widen, and he shoots up and snatches the notebook from Tommy. "I'm… I didn't realize that was in there." He hugs the book close to his chest.

"No, I- what does it- it do?" Tommy can't help but ask.

Darnold stammers. "I, uh… when I was younger, I had some issues during surgery, so I wanted-" He takes a deep breath. "I wanted a different option."

The implications of what Darnold says hits Tommy like a train. "That's the- the recipe for a transitioning potion?"

It may be that Tommy’s excitement is contagious, but something seems to assure Darnold, to spur him on. “Yeah! It… it doesn’t work immediately, takes a few doses, but…” He smiles to himself, placing the notebook down between himself and Tommy. “It was one of the first potions I made.”

Tommy’s brain is thrown for another loop, because holy fuck. “You made this?”

Darnold laughs nervously and rubs the back of his neck. “It’s not perfect, and I should really revisit it one of these days, but it works!” He sighs. “People don’t really like buying potions from strangers online, you know? So the potion of trans your gender didn’t really take off.”

The way Darnold looks towards the ground, biting his lip to stop himself from saying anything more. His complete and utter dejection breaks Tommy’s heart, and without thinking he grabs Darnold’s hands.

“This is the- the most incredible thing I’ve ever heard of!” Tommy says. He pauses before adding, “I wish I had that potion.”

Darnold blinks. “Really?”

With a smile, Tommy nods. “Really.”

They keep reading through the notebooks together. It takes them half an hour to realize that they’re still holding hands, but neither of them say anything.

☆○☆○☆

These days, it’s rare to find Coomer without Bubby right by his side. With the increasing cultist activity the last hundred or so years, the two of them spend most of their time tracking down any camps together. And when they aren’t doing that, they’re probably somewhere being the bane of someone’s existence.

But Coomer’s the one who finds Tommy, sitting upside down in his chair next to the Viewing Pool and staring at the pavilion ceiling. It’s really more of a throne, but Tommy doesn’t care much for it. It’s just a stone that he sits on sometimes.

“Ah, good afternoon Tommy!” Coomer shouts, stopping in front of him. “You know, you’re a little early for the meeting later.”

Right. The meeting. Tommy’s pretty sure he already knows how that one’s gonna turn out.

Tommy shakes his head. “I’m not- I’m thinking.”

“Oh? What about?”

Tommy looks at Coomer, who’s beaming down at him as if something’s funny. And, weirdly, for the first time in his life, Tommy thinks, ‘Maybe Coomer can help me with this’. He’s so off put by it that he almost doesn’t ask.

Almost.

Tommy swallows his pride. “It’s, uh… You met- met Bubby when you were mortals, right?”

“Oh, what memories!” A twinkle appears in Coomer’s eye, and he sits down next Tommy, leaning against his chair. “Is there a reason you ask?”

“Why did you- how could- even-” Tommy stumbles over himself.

Coomer places a hand on Tommy’s shoulder, even though it’s quite an awkward angle. “Take your time, Tommy.”

Might as well just say it. Tommy sighs. “Mortals die.”

In an instant, Coomer’s cheerful smile fades away. “Ah, I see. This is about your boyfriend Darnold, isn’t it?”

“He’s not my-”

“Hush now, Tommy.” Coomer points at Tommy, but quickly his attention is elsewhere. He’s… scanning the area around them. “Good, nobody is here. Dear Bubby would hate it if he knew I told you this.”

Secrets.

Coomer is about to tell Tommy secrets.

And just like that, Tommy is sliding out of his chair to sit right next to Coomer, because no way is he missing even a second of this.

“The first time I met Bubby, I was immediately infatuated with him.” Coomer smiles to himself. “You should have seen him in his prime, Tommy. The strongest and most promising mage I had ever met, and for some reason I’ll never understand, he would spend time with me! Some random knight, barely any magic to my name…”

His tone shifts, barely. “He would have changed the world, back then, I know it.”

Tommy doesn’t like that.

“There was an… incident, you see,” Coomer chooses his words carefully, but he quickly starts spiraling. “I didn’t hesitate for a moment, I had to save Bubby, but-!” He stops himself. “Sorry, that- you don’t need to hear about that.”

Wouldn’t be the first time Tommy's heard that.

“Bubby was injured. Those fiends,” Coomer mutters the last bit. “They had it out for him after that, in part for revenge. But his magic was never the same. He couldn’t defend himself as well as he used to, he-” Coomer pauses. “I chose to stay by his side, and he chose to let me.”

“Uh, I don’t-” Tommy frowns. “I don’t understand.”

“Tommy,” Coomer grabs his hands, and it’s kinda nice. It reminds him of when he was a child. “I knew that staying with Bubby, I may see him hurt, or worse. But I’d been through quite a bit by then, enough to know that I could never forgive myself if I didn’t at least try.” Coomer looks him dead in the eyes. “So try, Tommy.”

Try.

Something flutters in Tommy’s chest, like butterflies. He nods. “Okay. I’ll- I’ll do that. I’ll try.”

☆○☆○☆

Before the meeting, Tommy sent Sunkist off to watch Joshua while the grown-ups talked. Which, Tommy thinks, was an

excellent

idea, because now neither of them are here to witness the shitshow that is the divide between Gordon and Benrey’s work life and their home life.

“None of you guys tell us anything!” Gordon shouts, waving his arms in exaggeration. Unlike everyone else, he’s standing in front of his seat.

Benrey scoffs. “I tell you loads of things.”

“Yeah? Like what!?”

“Liiiiiiiiike… I love you,” Benrey practically sings.

Gordon’s eye twitches. “One of us is heading down there tomorrow, and you won’t even-” He pinches the bridge of his nose. “What did they do that was so bad that society basically got FUCKED two-thousand years ago!?”

A silence hangs over them, a silence so loud it’s basically ringing in Tommy’s ears. He sits up, because maybe, just maybe, Gordon got these nuts to crack.

“Who’s heading down?” Bubby questions, clearly steering the topic away.

Tommy slumps back down in his chair. Of course.

Coomer claps his hands together. “Wonderful question Bubby! I do believe it’s either Gordon or Tommy’s turn.”

“That- you guys,” Gordon tries, but he’s clearly lost his steam. He falls back into his chair.

“I, believe it’s. Tommy’s turn,” Gman says.

Tommy sighs. “I, uh, can’t. I have a- a lunch thing tomorrow.”

“Lunch thing,” Gordon mutters under his breath. Seeing nobody volunteering, though… “Fine. I’ll cover for you. But you’re taking the next one.”

Tommy grins. “Thanks.”

The silence is back. Tommy can feel that everyone’s eyes are on him and Gordon, and it would be uncomfortable if it wasn’t how most meetings ended these days.

“Actually, you know what Tommy?” Gordon slaps his thighs and stands. “I think it’s time to put Joshua to bed. Do you think you could help me convince Sunkist to give him up?”

Tommy can’t hide his disappointment. Why does he let himself get his hopes up everytime that they’ll say something? He should be used to this by now, but it must just be in his nature to desire information.

“Yeah,” Tommy rises from his own seat.

The two of them walk out together. They try to ignore the fact that, once they’re far enough away, they can hear the others start talking again, even if they can’t make out what they’re saying.

“It sucks, man,” Gordon sighs. “I mean, they’ve been doing this ever since I ascended. Were they ever frank with you?”

Tommy shakes his head. “Not- not really. This has been my whole life.”

Gordon laughs, but not in a way that sounds at all happy. “It’s funny. When I first started dating Benrey, I thought, man, finally these guys are gonna tell me stuff! So I’m not just running around blind down there.”

“How’d that- that turn out for you?”

“Benrey and I have been together for thirty years,” Gordon says. “What’s tonight tell you?”

Hm.

Tommy watches his feet as he walks.

[bedbellyandbeyond]

Soup

“Köbi…” The angel was just stepping into Sydryn’s house after a long shift when the dragon started summoning him insistently. “Köbiiiii.” “I’m here. I’m coming.” Köbi pulled off his boots and neatly laid them on the shoe rack before pulling off his coat. To the angel, coming home to the pink palace that appeared to be Sydryn’s house was regularly a wonderment to his eyes. Everything shade, tint, or hue of pink and nothing was understated. It was like walking into Barbie’s dream house if she was an eccentric billionaire with terrible taste in décor—as long as it was pink, it didn’t matter how gaudy it was. The scrubs at APID were a zanah green, so Köbi had to change into a bubble-gum robe as soon as his coat was off. Sydryn was still calling to him from their bedroom so he quickened his pace and headed upstairs. Three floors up, he knocked before opening Sydryn’s bedroom door.

“Yes?” Sydryn was sitting up in bed, playing video games. “There you are. Can you put the kettle on for tea?” Köbi nodded. “Rose tea?” “No, Kashmiri chai, please.” “Oh. Uh, okay.” The angel turned around and went all the way back downstairs, pulling out his phone to search how to make whatever Kashmiri tea was. He wasn’t surprised to find that it was a very pink tea, though it was quite a bit more complicated than the rose tea Sydryn usually drank. Köbi had really hoped that when he got home, he could sit down with Sydryn to talk about a charity project he was interested in starting for the families with children who used APID, but now it seemed he’d be using up a good three quarters to an hour working on a cup of tea. This wasn’t the job Köbi had expected when he agreed to assist Sydryn. He thought he’d be side by side with the dragon, learning medicine, seeing how it saved lives, but once the dragon’s morning sickness caught up to them, it had quickly turned into a nannying job. But caregiving was in Köbi’s nature and he was happy so long as he was helping someone, so taking care of the bed ridden dragon was fulfilling. “There we are,” Köbi said handing the dragon their tea. "The recipe called for crushed nuts but I didn’t find any in the house so I hope it’s alright without them…” Sydryn wrinkled their nose. “We don’t have any red pistachios left?” “Um, I didn’t see any in the kitchen… I’m pretty sure those stopped being made a long time ago?” Sydryn sighed and sipped their tea. “Well, it’s not like they were naturally coloured anyway…” “How are you feeling today?” Köbi asked, sitting down on the edge of the bed. “Bloated, tired, nauseous…” “Any better than yesterday?” “No.” “Aw, I’m sorry you feel that way.” Köbi raised a hand. “Would you like me to try and alleviate some of those feelings?” “No, don’t touch me.” “Right, okay…” Köbi rubbed his neck. “So, um, what have you been playing?” “Kirby...” “Oh, haha. I should've known...” Köbi smiled and rubbed his knees. “Have you eaten yet today?” “...Hm. You made me toast this morning.” “That's all you've had?” “I couldn't keep anything else down.” “That's not good... You need to be eating.” “If I can't keep it down, I can't keep it down.” “There isn't something you can take to help with the nausea?” “I'm having tea.” “Right...” Köbi counted on his fingers. “So... You're, what, five months pregnant now?” “Pretty much.” “That's like...two and a half for a human right?” “Approximately.” “With seven eggs?” “Correct.” “You must be showing more now.” Sydryn rolled their eyes and lifted the blankets off themselves, displaying their growing abdomen. They’d definitely grown since coming back from Europe but not nearly as much as Köbi expected. “I don’t know much about pregnancy or egg laying or anything like that, but I feel like you should be bigger,” Köbi said. “If my pregnancy progressed the same way as a human’s, then I probably would be bigger,” Sydryn said. “However, this is not the case. Dragon eggs do swell and eventually harden before laying, but only truly gain considerable size after they are laid. Otherwise, I’d become disgustingly large to the point of hating every inch of my body and wanting to kill myself.” Köbi frowned. “I don’t really like it when you speak so morbidly. I understand that you don’t want to be pregnant, but do you always have to be so negative about it?” “Please. Enlighten me with the positives of this condition.” “Well. Um…” Köbi scratched his head. “…I mean, you’re a dragon who has outlived many other dragons. You’re probably the smartest one too.” “I am. What of it?” “You’ve succeeded in surviving for as long as you have and now only you and a few others are capable of repopulating your species. All the other ones didn’t get the chance to be here today to do that. These eggs you’re growing are your legacy. They can only exist because you exist.” Sydryn sighed. “And they’ll be born ungrateful and ignorant. Absolute monsters who don’t deserve to be born of my body.” Köbi crossed his arms. “If you’re just going to be indignant, then fine… I won’t ask any more.” “Thank you.” “But seriously, you need to eat something.” Köbi got up and put his hands on his hips. “I’m going to make you soup.” “I don’t want soup.” Köbi started to leave. “I’m going to make you soup and it’s not going to be pink.” “It better be pink!” “Alright, alright! I’ll put…beets in it or something…” “Thank you.” It took another half hour for Köbi to put together the soup and turn it pink. They brought it back up to the dragon’s bedroom along with a tea refill. Sydryn had sat themself up to drink down the tea and had set down their game. “I forgot, I wanted to tell you…” Köbi started, handing over the soup. “I helped deliver twins today.” “Dari’s I imagine,” Syd stated, inspecting the soup. “Births are really the worst… Was it educational for you?” “Yes. The first one I saw was that C-section which was very interesting, but this one was natural, so it was very different.” “That wasn’t natural,” Sydryn said. “Vaginas are natural.” “What do you mean? That wasn’t that?” Sydryn squinted. “Wait, they usually have water births… Was it a water birth?” “Yes.” “So, did you actually see it happen?” “Well, no…” “Congratulations. You were beside a birth.” Köbi nodded. “I guess you’re right… It was still an amazing experience.” Sydryn went to take a sip of their soup but ended up downing half of it in one go. They sighed and leaned back resting their eyes. “Köbi,” they said calmly. “This soup is very good. Thank you for making it for me.” Köbi perked up a little, unused to the compliments. Perhaps having real food in their stomach helped their mood. “Thank you. That means a lot.” “You’re doing well and I’m sorry I’m not fit right now to guide you in the workplace.” Köbi shook their head. “It’s fine. I’m learning a lot. And it’s more important that you rest up.” “I shouldn’t be complaining. The last time I was pregnant, I was living in hiding on the side of a mountain  without plumbing, forced into the unofficial leadership of a small army who ended up killing the one dragon I actually didn’t entirely mind seeing sometimes and who also happened to be the sire of my eggs then.” Köbi felt like there was a lot to unpack there but he didn’t want to pry too much. “Sounds like you really cared for that dragon.” “In general, no. Relatively to the rest of the dragons, yes. I despise all dragons to some extent, but I can also care. Seranan, for example, is my sibling, so I loathe their existence, but I also care just enough to rather they not die. Dranley was around that same level. I might’ve even thought of them as a friend.” “Aw, well I’m sorry your friend died…” Köbi sympathised. “It’s never easy losing the ones you care for.” Sydryn shook their head. “I’ve been over it for the last four hundred years.” They finished their soup and set it aside and attempted to change the subject. “…I think if you considered going to nursing school, you’d be very good at it.” Köbi shook his head. “I can’t make commitments like that as an angel. It’d take me off my path.” “Not the path again… You don’t even know your path. Nursing could be your path.” “It could be, but I won’t know until I know,” Köbi stayed. “But I don’t think it’s that, though I am enjoying it in this moment of my life.” “You realised you aren’t a licensed nurse, so how we’ve employed you at APID is illegal,” Sydryn said. “Is that not a sin or whatever?” “Laws are made by governments,” Köbi stated. “To disobey them is not inherently immoral. The laws of man are not the laws of the divine.” “Very true. Glad we can agree.” Sydryn rubbed their face. “Could you do me just one more favour?” Köbi smiled. “Yes, of course.” “Could you get me more tea?” “Sure.” Köbi got up to pour more tea but Sydryn put up a hand. “No, I’d rather rose tea, if that’s alright.” “Oh, but there’s a lot of the Kashmiri—” “I realised I don’t actually like that one, I just like looking at it. Rose tea is much better. It’s been the best for the morning sickness.” Köbi nodded getting up and starting to head out. “Okay, I can make a new pot….” “Thank you. Oh, and could you cut me some strawberries too, please? Thank you.” “Yeah, no problem.”

[writersrealmbts]

Fluffy Tails: Part 3-Recipe for Fluff

Description: Halloween! Hybrid!Jungkook x reader, Sanctuary Universe: Fall has come, and with it tons of yummy foods that inevitably help you put on some weight for winter hibernation. Jungkook loves his squirrel, fluff and all.

Light Angst/Fluff

Posted: 10/29/2019

Tags: Hybrid au, Hybrid Jungkook,

Wordcount: 2,185

A/N: Sorry I didn’t get it posted this morning, Tuesdays are my busy days and I didn’t wake up early enough to post it. It’s not exactly what was asked for, but it’s the closest approximation I could get given previously established stuff.

“Y/n? Are we going to any Halloween parties?”

You finished measuring out the allspice, trying to decide how to answer him. “Did you have some that you wanted to go to?” You dreaded costume shopping. It was a trial every year.

“Not really, I usually go home for Halloween or to Jimin-hyung’s. We could stay in and watch Halloween movies instead. Especially if—is that pumpkin bread?” His ears perked up, and he bounced a little as he stayed at the edge of the kitchen.

“It will be. I think movies sound great,” You replied, slowly adding your dry ingredients to the mixture in the mixer. “You’re okay with walnuts, right?”

“Yes!”

You nodded, happy that he was because you really loved having nuts in your pumpkin bread.

He was humming softly, sitting on the other side of the counter so that he could be with you while not being in your way. “You’ve been cooking a lot lately.”

You shrugged a bit.

“I had to start working out again,” He commented, laughing a bit.

Your cheeks burned a bit. “Oh.”

He noticed, of course he would. “It’s not a bad thing. I like having so much food. And I really like the recipes you’ve been trying out lately.”

You nodded. “I’m glad.” You started adding water to the mixture, eyes glued to it so you wouldn’t look at Jungkook. The two of you had been dating for almost a year now, but there was still some uncharted territory. Like how your weight tended to fluctuate, especially around fall and in early winter.

“Y/n?”

“Hmm?”

“You okay?”

You nodded. “Just focusing on baking.”

“Alright,” he said after a moment. “I’ll go pick out our first movie. Did you get the candy for the apartment kids?”

“It’s by the door, and don’t you dare steal any until we know trick or treating is over, Jeon Jungkook.”

He laughed, but he went straight to the living area and started looking through the movies the two of you owned.

You’d sort of gradually moved in, officially getting the lease changed about two weeks ago when your previous lease ended and his was about to get renewed. Moving the last of your things into the spare bedroom, even though you spent every night in his room.

“Probably a good thing we’re not going to a party, I’ve got a meeting with one of my teachers tomorrow,” He called out.

“That teacher finally set a meeting to talk about that paper?”

“Yeah, and I have your notes. I’m glad I’ve got such a smart woman watching over me,” He said, arms wrapping around you as he came back into the kitchen. “Train to Busan or Beetlejuice?”

“Both?” You wiggled. “Tail.”

“Sorry,” He grumbled, stepping back so your tail was freed and then reattaching once he pushed it out of the way. “That smells so good.”

You added in the chopped walnuts, then pulled over your bread pans. Jungkook had gotten you two bread pans for your birthday and you’d given him lots of kisses because you made at least three pans of bread every week, especially as the weather started turning cold. Your instincts had you both stocking up on food, eating extra food, and gaining weight. You’d then lose said weight through the winter and be back in shape by spring. Maybe next spring the two of you would officially mate, now that you knew of each other’s habits and feelings wouldn’t be as hurt as this past spring. It wasn’t anything either of you could have helped. Neither of you really realized that the other was indicating they wanted to mate, especially since you both didn’t really realize how you were behaving in the first place. Him running circles around you, you running away and expecting to be chased and both of you being hurt when instinctual expectations weren’t met. And then before you two could properly sort things out, you had to leave for your student research position in Paraguay and you didn’t really have the resources to contact him, as much as it killed you. Plus you had to work twice as hard because you were a hybrid and everyone expected you to fail.

When you’d returned, he was waiting anxiously at the airport with candied pecans and a bouquet of daisies and you cried because of the month of stress and missing him. You didn’t leave his side for a whole week after that, panicking when he started leaving your side. He didn’t mind most of the time, a little worried about you because you also didn’t speak during that time, far too emotional. But when you did talk to him, late one night while the two of you were cuddled up in a blanket fort that felt very nest-like to you, he was so soft and gentle and it was honestly one of the best things ever. Even though you felt bad for your behavior both before leaving and after coming back.

He just seemed relieved that you were able to speak again, and told you that you weren’t allowed to be away that long without contact because he felt sick while you were gone. His family told you that he was a mess, and that they’d worried about him becoming depressed. And that he kept feeding squirrels in the park.

It was after that week that you realized that Jungkook wasn’t leaving your side either, and he kept bringing more and more food home. He didn’t actually want you away from him like you had supposed when you couldn’t stop clinging to him.

“Baby?” He whispered, nibbling on your neck. “You’re awfully quiet.”

“You’re warm,” You murmured back, finding yourself leaning back against him. “And I need to move, and can’t because of your arms.”

“Oh,” He whispered, but didn’t make any sort of attempt to leave your side. “That does sound like a problem.”

“I can’t make dinner until these are baked,” You whispered.

“What are we having for dinner?” He asked, his voice a little husky.

“Stuffed spaghetti squash, veggie enchilada style,” You answered, still almost in a whisper.

He moaned softly. “That sounds so good!”

“It will be, if I can make it,” You flicked his face with your tail and ducked out the moment his arms loosened in surprise.

“Wow, that’s cheating!” He batted at your tail, still losing as you flicked your tail out of your way multiple times as he tried to both box it and catch it. It was one of his new games. “Dang it’s fast.”

You hummed happily, pouring the batter into the pans and then sticking them into the oven, setting the timer and then spinning around just before he managed to catch your tail and blinking up at him through your lashes. “Jungkookie, don’t you think it’s time you said sorry to my tail for trying to abuse it?”

“It started it,” He muttered, folding his arms.

You tried not to laugh at his idea of your tail being a separate entity from yourself. “Is that so?”

“It keeps trying to come between us,” He said, watching it suspiciously as your tail curled around your feet and out of the reach of his hands.

“Hmm. So you tried to fight my tail.”

“It fought back!” He objected, pulling out the veggies from the fridge and started to nibble them in frustration.

You took one as well. “Jungkook, you do realize that my tail is attached to me, right? So if you grab my tail, it will lead to me either being hurt or hurting you?”

He looked away sheepishly. “Yeah, yeah. I know.”

You reached up and lovingly tugged on of his bunny ears. “Do you want me to play with your tail?”

He turned red, first his ears, then his neck, then his face. “No. No. I’m good.”

“Shame,” you whispered, kissing his cheek and heading toward the living room. “Let’s start with Beetlejuice, and then watch Train to Busan.”

“What about dinner?”

“I told you, I can make it until the pumpkin bread is done. Bring the veggies. I’m hungry too.”

He did as you said, sitting next to you and letting you cover both of you with your tail and a blanket. He had taken to petting his enemy during movies and such and you honestly weren’t going to complain.

The two of you didn’t get many trick-or-treaters, and most of them came while the two of you were having dinner.

Jungkook lay with his head on your lap for Train to Busan, sighing happily. “You’re so soft. I was right. Fall is the best time to cuddle you.”

You felt your cheeks burn. “How so?”

He kissed your knee. “You get a little squishy.”

“Excuse me?” You were a little confused by that.

He rolled onto his back to smile up at you. “You’re nice to cuddle with all the time, but because it’s fall and our nature tells us to put on weight for hibernation—even though we don’t hibernate—has made you all soft and comfy and you just feel fluffy. It’s nice. And your ass looks especially nice in my sweats now. You can weigh however much you like, y/n, as long as we’re healthy and happy and together, I’m happy. Now, are we going to watch the movies? Or are we going to cut into that pumpkin bread?”

You shrugged, still a little surprised by what he said.

“I vote pumpkin bread,” He chirped happily, rolling off of your lap and pulling you to your feet before dragging you to the kitchen. “Smells so good. Ooh, we should make apple pie soon!”

You shook your head, laughing as he continued listing different fall desserts and such that he wanted “us to make” which definitely meant you. He’d help now and then, but he definitely relied on you for the know-how.

“You really didn’t want to go to any parties, did you?” He asked teasingly, kissing your cheek as you cut into the bread.

“Finding costumes is a nightmare this time of year. Besides, then I’d have to deal with those sorority bunnies making eyes at you and somehow come out of there without having a handful of rabbit-tails.” You placed his piece on a plate and started slicing a smaller one for yourself.

“Even though you know I don’t care about them?”

“Yup. Because I’ve already heard enough about how ‘interspecies mating is a travesty’ from their dumb mouths. The only problem with interspecies mating comes when it’s a predator and prey sort of deal and even then, it’s not that big of a deal,” You grumbled, then waited as he tasted the bread.

He moaned in delight. “This is amazing.” He hugged you tightly to him, nuzzling against your neck.

You giggled as his nose barely brushed against your skin and his hair tickled your neck. “You sound more like you want to make love to it than stuff your face.”

“Can’t I eat it while making love to you?” He asked, popping another piece into his mouth with a pleased groan.

“Hmmm, pass.” You pushed out of his arms and darted down the hall.

“Hey!” He was close behind you, playfully chasing after you until he managed to catch you by his bed, pulling you to him by the waist and kissing your fiercely.

You giggled as you managed to break away again, leading him in a chase around the apartment, before he managed to catch you again, scooping you up into his arms.

“Are you courting me?” He asked, teasing.

Your cheeks burned at the question, your body rigid in his hold.

His expression softened. “Oh. Well. Would you look at that. Seems like your instincts have a trick and a treat in store for us,” He whispered, leaning in and kissing you before carrying you to the bed. He lay you down gently and kissed you. “I’ll put the food away. You get comfy.”

You nodded, still a little rigid.

He rubbed his nose against yours. “D-did you maybe…want…to…?”

You were beyond embarrassed.

“…Mate?” He finally finished the question, looking a little embarrassed himself.

“Are we ready for that?” You asked, looking away from him.

He was quiet for a moment, then his face was centimeters away and he looked determined. “I am if you are. I don’t have any doubts.”

“Neither do I,” You whispered.

He smiled. “I still need to put the food away.”

You nodded and watched him go, a little excited by how confident he seemed as he walked with a bounce in his step. “This isn’t a trick, right?”

He laughed, turning back. “No, it’s definitely a treat. Anything we need before?”

“Better bring snacks. I’ve been having midnight munchies.”

“Really? Me too. Well, 3 am munchies, but same difference. I’ll bring an assortment. And the candy.”

“Ooh! Yes!”

He laughed and bounded away to get the snacks and candy.

Your mate. He was going to be your mate. Your bunny.

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