#bar cat 75

[schrodinger-swriter]

Can I Ask for Husks fluff alphabet?

A, C, I, J, K, N, P, Z preatty please?🥺

(I'm sorry I almost hit the limit. I'm obsessed with him😭)

A, C, I, J, K, N, P, and Z for Husk

No need to apologize! If I wanted a smaller limit I would have said so in the original post! Nothing wrong in wanting to get the most out of something C:

I hope you enjoy this, Anon, it was fun playing with Husk's personality in this! He reminds me of a grumpy grandfather.

Confession, I thought for the longest time Husk was a.. well dog. I.. Don't know why I thought that, perhaps it's the face markings and his name being "Husk" (Like Husky) that caused my confusion. For two years after the pilot I was... rather dumb..

What do you mean Husk is 75.

ATTRACTION:

He enjoys those who are more honest with themselves and aren't pushovers. He can hardly stand those in denial. He calls it as he sees it when he's pushed to do so. This is less of an attraction thing, but I feel he would be most compatible with someone he can be real with and can be able to deal with his bluntness. In a way, you keep each other in check.

CUDDLES:

Small and soft, warm too. He's a cat, so it feels like snuggling into a large cat! I don't think he would be too deep into PDA, the most he would be comfortable with doing is quick kisses when someone else is passing by.. usually... more on that later. Though, now that it's mentioned, I don't think he would be too big on physical affection all that much.. now don't get me wrong he loves a good back massage every now and then, but it's going to take him a while to curl up next to you for cuddling. Little spoon.

INJURY:

Would ask you what the hell happened while wrapping your wound.. Goes from scolding you for being a jackass if you just. Threw yourself into danger, but will go on to say you have some guts. Stern when it comes to you taking it easy so you can heal properly... is not phased by any false play ups of your pain, though depending on his mood he might let it pass. For a bit..

If he's the one injured he's stubborn, insisting that it's not that big of a deal. Dresses and cleans it appropriately, all while nursing a bottle of booze. Dismissive when talking about what led to the injury. Might be a little standoffish if you try to take care of him, especially if you come off as trying to baby him.

JEALOUSY:

He deals with his jealousy the same way he deals with all of his other problems. Alcohol. He sees another man chatting you up? Alcohol. Sees you laughing a little too much at some chumps joke? Alcohol. Someone talks brings up how you seem so lively around another person? Alcohol. I think you get the point. However, if it's a case of you being pushed into a situation you don't want to be in, he's going to pick up on your discomfort and drag you away... does not make it seem like you have somewhere else to be, no, he just tells the other person to fuck off as he takes you away. His fur sometimes fluffs up in annoyance. Pulling that pin from the C section, in regards to PDA, he will tug you to his side to further push the effect that you're taken.

KISSES:

Bunny kisses. You know, you two touch noses and nuzzle a bit. He doesn't allow it often, but it is something you two do every now and again. He defaults to kissing you on the mouth, quick pecks usually aren't for him, though... Sometimes leans over the counter of his bar to steal a kiss when no one else is around. This goes for both giving and receiving!

NO:

He can't be with someone who heavily relies on physical touch, it's simply not for him and he can only compromise so much. That's not to say he wouldn't try, because he would. However you can only sacrifice your comfort so much before it becomes a problem, you know? I don't think he would do well with people who complain.. not vent, more so whine about everything. He seems far too irritable to be able to deal with that in his day to day, outside of the bar.

As for actual deal breakers within an established relationship... I think it would have to be a stubborn person. Funny, coming from him since he's stubborn. But Husk appears to still go with the flow of everything, even eventually befriending the rest of the cast. No, when I say stubborn I mean people who can't take their heads out of their asses to see that there's other things to worry about and shit like that. He can only give you so many reality checks before throwing in the towel. Bonus negative points if combined with the complaining thing.

PETNAMES:

Do not call him "Kitten" he might actually be upset by that. On top of that, it's so... basic... predictable. It's not special. No, something that basic wouldn't work on him... and that's not considering the fact he himself isn't too big on petnames. Though.. seeing that he died in the 70s, I enjoy that the thought that he defaults to names from that decade. I believe he would call you "Dollface" or even just "Doll"

It'd take him a while to grow used to the idea of being called anything other than his.. name.. but he looks like a "Pumpkin" or a "Lovey"

.. just don't call him that around Angel, he won't hear the end of it..

ZZZ:

Tends to sleep either sprawled out of curled into a ball. Really it depends, though more often than not he sleeps sprawled out. Doesn't like being held while he sleeps, so cuddling while you guys doze off is off the table. Though, he wouldn't mind you scratching between his ears or shoulder blades sometimes... maybe you'll even hear him purr. Will take a decent amount of time before you get to the "sleeping in the same bed" stage. Old man snores, so good luck with that.

[imightbelane]

Mall + Stores Haul

went out of state to a mall and couple of stores :3 had to edit background of some pics bc of privacy

Walmart

bond bar shampoo = $10

bond bar conditioner = $10

Baby oil = $5

Fitme foundation = $8

NYX concealer = $7

Loreal concleaer = $12

NYX glosses (x3) = $15

NYX eyeliner = $4

NYX eyeliner = $9

Lash glue = $5

Hair mask = $6

Lip oil = $8

Covergirl Yummy Gloss = $8

Dollar Store

hair ties (x2) = $3

crayons = $1.25

colored pencils = 1.25

cat food & treats (x10) = $12

lashes (x9) = $11

Marshals

Hello kitty cup (x2)= $14

Strawberry lotion = $6

TJ MAX

Hello kitty plushie = $17

Ulta

Snail rescue moisturizer = $17

Snail rescue toner = $14

Old navy

Jeans = $50

Plaid shirt = $37

Target

Milani concealer = $10

Airspun setting powder = $10

Curl Talk Gel = $8

5 below

hello kitty figure = $5

Wet & wild setting powder = $5

Gamestop

3DS games (x11) = $200

Bath & Body Works

Perfumes (x2) = $37

Hot Topic

Cinnamoroll handcream = $9

DSW

Slippers (UGG?) = $75

TOTAL: $637

gonna put the liftbr tag on this for a lil bit cus im proud

[yukipri]

Look at how cute Cody is!!!

…right, this is supposed to be a product review photoset and said product is stretched hidden above oops

Actual review of the Heroes & Villains Sabine Wren cropped hoodie below:

Text review beneath cut:

Got this Sabine cropped hoodie Heroes & Villains because I really dig Sabine's adult color scheme in the live action Ahsoka, and really liked the application of the design here! I've bought a few clothing items from Heroes & Villains before, and they've consistently been of high quality, and I wasn't disappointed here.

I really like this hoodie because it's got the perfect in-between fabric weight, where it's thin enough and feels great against skin so I can just wear it as a long sleeve shirt, or I can wear it as outerwear with something underneath. It's a perfect fall hoodie, though I'd want to wear something over it in colder winter.

Another thing I really dig is all the textures. It's got embroidery for the patches, the gold bars on the chest representing Sabine's chest armor lights, and the starbird outline in the back, and printed patterns in the front that are tastefully faded for a slightly weathered effect. There are 4 colors of fabrics that are overstitched with plum thread. Just the variety of textures going on here really tickles my artist brain and makes it really fun to touch and wear!

I do want mention that because this is a "cropped hoodie," it does fall shorter than most hoodies do on the torso, though I wouldn't quite call it true crop top short. This means that for people with some chest like myself, it kinda balloons out, and doesn't create the most slimming silhouette. I'm wearing an L here, because I like baggy hoodies (plus, what's the point if I can't fit a cat inside??), and that may also be contributing. I could probably fit in an M size too. But just a head's up there!

I also wish it had pockets, since I'm very much a want-to-tuck-hands person, but I get why they decided not to include them.

Overall I really love this hoodie, and it's a part of my regular wardrobe now!

(also shown: wearing the Rock Love Sabine kyber crystal necklace + loth cat earring)

Here's a direct link to the hoodie:

This review isn't sponsored, just sharing my honest thoughts.

That being said, here's my non-influencer “refer a friend” code, for $25 off $75 the Heroes & Villains site! (plus, they have a sale going on rn!)

(Cats tag: #YukiPriASLKittens )

[celestetcetera-art]

more jekyll & hyde alien drawings :)

assorted lore dump below the cut:

Jekylls and Hydes adapted their split forms to fill two important evolutionary niches: community, and survival. Jekylls intentionally have duller, safer appearances, and exist to signal friendliness and create social bonds. Hydes, on the other hand, have weapons built into every aspect of their form, and are adapted for fighting, fleeing, and thriving.

Hydes are shorter because some of their mass goes to creating their wings and tail. As they transform and lose height, this also splits their horns apart.

They do not have a concept of gender, instead assigning pronouns to form in their native languages (usually). 

They do, however, have a subsection of the species that can carry children (~25%) and a subsection that can contribute genetic data to the childbearer (~75%).

Multiple parents can contribute DNA to any given childbearer, similar to earthen cats, except the DNA is considered for the same child instead of a litter.

They also have no concept of sexuality. Individuals may show a preference for pairing with members of the species that can or cannot give birth, but it’s fairly rare.

Their birthing process is pretty similar to humans, with only a single child (usually) incubated within a parent’s womb for a while. There is a failsafe membrane around said womb during pregnancy that ensures form switching is not hard on the fetus.

Jekylls and Hydes do not usually form monogamous partnerships the way humans do. Jekylls, especially those who have birthed children, will usually form a small group of respectable friends who will all help parent the child. Hydes, or at least those who indulge in them enough, may find sexual partners whom they repeatedly meet up with over other, random encounters.

A child is always born in their Jekyll form, developing their Hyde form only in adolescence (human age equivalent of 10-12). Their horns begin growing in around early adolescence. They begin as two harmless nubs that over time, fuse into the full halo. The moment their halo forms coincides with the development of their Hyde side, and only when individuals transform for the first time does their horns sharpen from splitting apart. 

This milestone in one’s life is colloquially referred to as their "split."

Younger members of the species are the least adept at controlling the transformations, as they are often emotion triggered. It takes quite a few years (essentially, after an individual has gone through puberty) for one to fully control it.

Despite not technically being connected to morality, Jekylls are often viewed as the more respectable, civilized side, and Hydes as the evil, animalistic side. Much of society considers swapping into Hyde form an indulgence, if not an outright sin.

Groups of Jekylls will even react in disgust to another’s Hyde, despite all having one themselves.

Part of the reason Jekylls are seen as such is because they are sort of the “default” form of the species, with their Hyde forms only becoming prominent in adolescence (despite the emotions associated with their Hyde mentalities existing within them from birth).

Counterculture that takes pride in embracing their Hyde side exists as well, and you can find Hyde specific bars and clubs in the slummier parts of town.

Particularly for social events, Jekylls will wear elegant gloves, and it's considered impolite or inconsiderate for them to not. This is because the transformation into their Hyde will rip through the gloves as their hands are bigger and clawed, so wearing gloves signals a Jekyll’s intention to remain in their more social form.

One can easily identify whether an individual is currently a Hyde or a Jekyll, due to their vastly different appearances, but it is incredibly hard to connect an individual Jekyll to their Hyde, or vice-versa. This has given Hydes a sense of anonymity that they often choose to abuse.

It is common for Hydes to use pseudonyms while in their form, taking advantage of the anonymity.

If a transformation is to be forced, there is a transformation "potion" that can be administered to an individual to trigger a transformation between forms chemically. These are used in court cases, to treat medical conditions, as a black market drug, or, in extreme scenarios, as a form of torture.

Their bodies will almost always transform into Hyde upon death. This is because of the adrenaline spike and survival instinct that is triggered when dying. Because of this, most funeral rites involve burning the bodies or at the very least covering them up.

[ctimenefic]

trick or treat!! any deleted scenes of three's a crowd?? or anymore tiny lil lore drops? your choice really 🫶🏼

A fudge bar for you! I almost never have deleted scenes as such because I am a terrible editor and words have to be dragged out of me with a rusty spoon BUT. I do have an epilogue. It kinda just didn't fit in the end, and throws up a lot of, uh, ethical quandaries (that's the whole fic, I know, but even more). And it's NOT canon.

That said, I hope it's a treat.

They break in while Alex is at the sink.

He doesn’t blame them; he’s up later than he should be. But tomorrow’s an anniversary of sorts, and he doesn’t want to mar that with washing up first thing. 

He ignores the intruders while he finishes up. Pops everything as quietly as he can into the drying rack. Waits until they make their way back up in the lift.

Coming out, they’re as young as the day he last saw them, of course. But their eyes are old. Alex will have to scroll back in the security footage to watch a couple of septuagenarians play cat burglar. 

In the last of the evening light, streaking gold across the hallway, they look fierce. The very picture of a heroic duo. He has to applaud the forethought of bringing clothes to change into; he can’t imagine himself in whatever fashion ‘Lex has kitted himself out in, but it probably fits that body a lot better than Alex’s old man corduroys and soft cardigans. 

“Good to see you two again,” he offers. “We’ve enjoyed seeing your adventures. I like the masks. Still having fun?”

Georgie smiles. ‘Lex looks suspicious. “Yes,” he answers for the pair of them. Then, bluntly: “Why haven’t you reset? It still works, the machine.”

“Obviously,” Alex drawls. “That’s a bit personal, sproglet. Respect your elders and that.”

Georgie laughs; Alex pretends to miss the flash of jealousy on his younger self’s face. Like he’s going to snap up a new model after fifty years. Honestly. Was he always so untrusting?

“I’ll stick with what I’ve got for now.” There’s a creak on the floorboards above; he can’t help smiling. “You two can have forever,” he allows. “I’ll keep everything.”

Upstairs, George is sketching something on a tablet, hologram hanging in the air. His hand only starts shaking when he lifts the stylus from the screen. They’re darkened with liver spots now, but still finely boned under thin skin; still artist’s hands. He’s still dreadfully handsome at 80. Alex expects he’ll be even more so at 85. ‘Lex is a fool to miss it.

“Sorry, love. Unexpected visitors. Or, expected, I suppose. Eventually.”

George hums, goes back to drawing firm lines. “Bit early. Don’t they know life begins at 75?”

“Young people these days. Always wanting a redo.”

George looks up, gimlet-eyed. “We could do it too. If you wanted.”

“Maybe later. Come to bed, now.”

[thefloatingwriter]

FINALLY SOMEONE WHO LOVES WIRESS TOO oh my god I feel so seen!! Also in response to your thingy: 🔥!!!

omg i LOVE wiress. she’s so interesting y’know?? but seriously as soon as i saw your blog i was like yes another wiress fan lol.

but anyway back to my opinions.

Wiress:

the thing with wiress is that, by three standards, she is not a genius. like she’s insanely smart, but it’s not like all encompassing?? if that makes sense???

but that’s just three standards. in terms of every other district (with the exception of MAYBE five. maybe.) she is off the charts smart. but wiress does not realize this so she’s like:

w: one time i got a 98 on my trigonometry test and that stuck with me because the rest of my classmates all got either 99 or 100 :(

the other victors: what the fuck is trigonometry.

Beetee:

he’s a bitch. that’s it. i’m being completely serious too; i love writing characters where they’re just assholes half of the time and i apparently decided beetee would be one of them.

half of the time it’s not even intentional either. like someone’s talking and he thinks of the best insult he’s ever thought of ever and he just says it without thinking at all. most of the victors have been insulted by him in some way or shape or form. whether he apologizes is completely up in the air - either he does it immediately or just stares at you with a blank expression until you drop it.

D3:

okay warning i have an insane amount of thoughts abt d3 so… this might take a minute.

*physically throws out the canon area for d3* being one of the first districts (and one of the most rebellious) i feel like they’re really close to the capitol, like how d1 is. so i put it at the very top of idaho, some of oregon and washington, and a little bit of montana. they border seven to the north/east and one to the south.

a good amount of the population is either in poverty or on the cusp (about 120k out of 190k). these people live in what are known as the Stills, an area off the main city of Three, where the wealthier citizens live. the Stills consists of five smaller towns/neighborhoods surrounding a square known as the Interface. this is where most of the shops in the Stills are, along with the main bar, which is called Harlow’s. Harlow’s sometimes has live music or local bands. they typically suck but everyone is usually too drunk to care lol.

the main town is where the wealthier residents live. they also have a square, which is surrounded by small shops and businesses. this is where the reapings take place. it can fit all of the children of reaping age, though it struggles with the rest of the family. they usually have to stand off to the side or in streets with screens to watch the reaping.

the main town is also where the victor’s village is, a short walk away from the square and up a short hill. as of the 75th hunger games, it had a total of five residents:

Attican (“Atlas”) Hoffman - victor of the 16th hunger games and the first victor from three. lived completely alone (except for all of his cats) in the village for twenty-four years. grew up in the main town, was born into a wealthy family. was 16 when he won, was 75 as of the 3QQ.

Beetee Latier - victor of the 40th hunger games and the second victor from three. his five siblings lived in his house with him until they all got jobs and houses in the main town. they visit for holidays and birthdays. grew up in the Stills. was 19 when he won, was 54 as of the 3QQ.

Wiress Lisiecki - victor of the 48th hunger games and the third victor from three. her older sister got a good job in the main town after she won and her mother already lived comfortably. she did bring her four cats (fleur, iris, leni, and luna) with her. grew up in the main town, into a wealthy family. was 18 when she won, was 45 as of the 3QQ.

Marie Teller - victor of the 55th hunger games and the fourth victor from three. her father had already succumbed to an illness and her mother was killed by peacekeepers after attempting to steal fruit from a stand. she moved in with beetee because he was a family friend when she was sixteen. grew up in the Stills. was 17 when she won, was 37 as of the 3QQ.

Haskell Nishimaru - victor of 68th hunger games and the fifth and final victor from three. he was brought up by his aunt and uncle. they lived with him until he was eighteen and then moved nearby. grew up in the Stills. was 16 when he won, was 23 as of the 3QQ.

okay all of those weren’t unpopular opinions and most of this was just me ranting but i hope you liked my word vomit lol!! <333 thank you for the ask 💕💕

[alhilton]

Is calico a possible Creasia coat color?

Ah, such a simple question, but so complicated to answer! Is it possible? Maybe. Likely to be expressed? No. You probably know how calicos are produced and anyone who doesn't can google that. Short review: you need at least one of the color alleles (in the case of the domestic cat, the black/red) located on the X chromosome. So males are always homozygous, but females can be heterozygous. Then you need the thing where neither color is dominant. Instead, females express both colors. This event alone will produce a tortie, not a calico. To get calico, you need one more thing: the piebald gene, which is present in many animals. It produces random colorless white patches, interspersed with the underlying color(s). Finally, in order to get a classic calico, you need the female zygote to have discarded her extra Xs (turned them into bar bodies) early enough to produce solid patches instead of a more blended coat. NOW you have a classic mi-ke calico. She will almost always be female, but can be male XXY or male chimera (having absorbed his twin!) or possibly an even rarer genetic event. On the flip side, solid red or black cats are male something like 75% of the time. Female solids would be homozygous for the trait, which is rarer. There are other genes that effect cat coat color and pattern, and of course there can always be new mutations, but those are the basics. Question: is color a sex-linked gene in other species of cats? Big cats have many things in common with domestic cats. Is this one of them? I could not find an answer to this. Probably no. But... I did have Caraca say at one point when she and Halvery were trying to reproduce Roup's color, "Solids are more likely to be male." This strongly suggests that some aspect of creasia color is on the X. So even if this is unlikely for big cats in our world, I have sort of committed to it on Lidian. But... Is the piebald gene present in other cats besides domestic cats? Again, no answer. The closest I could find was the white band gene that produces golden tabby tigers. It is not actually piebald, though. It's a completely different gene. If you read the wikipedia article about golden tabby tigers, you will notice a lot of inbreeding. This is how most usual colors in domestic (and semi-domestic) animals get a foothold. People notice a single unique mutation, decide they love it, and do some aggressive inbreeding to produce homozygous individuals. Many domestic animals have very shallow gene pools. Obviously, most of them handle it just fine. Wild animals avoid inbreeding. Nature tends towards outbreeding. Maximizing genetic diversity is a survival strategy, so animals evolve various barriers to inbreeding. There ARE more color variations in big cats that live in jungles/forests vs open plains. Tigers and leopards have more color variations than African lions. It doesn't seem to affect their odds of survival as much. Creasia live in dense forest, so it makes sense that they have some color variation. Rare mutations would pop up, but they would quickly disappear unless the creasia started selecting for them. So if they decided that piebald was fabulously beautiful and everyone wanted to have babies with those cats, they might quickly develop a piebald trait that is regularly expressed. But they tend to like colors that are "good for hunting," and those are browns/grays/black. They are starting to value other traits and expand their tastes, though. Anyway - the potential for something like a calico is probably in there somewhere. To specifically get calico, I think you'd see piebald popping up first.

[dragonstepp]

Retirement

In December, I turned 83. I have lived a full life, most of it good, a few times of it bad, especially in the 60s, when I was in my 20s, dealing with Vietnam, music (good), running a bar, having a great time. Be the time I met 75, I was living in Austin, working good jobs, not drinking. There I lived a pretty good life filled with science fiction organizations, and then radio, doing a Celtic music show. By the time I retired I was working in the graduate school at the University of Texas, and pretty involved in my liberal political life.

In 2009 I moved into assisted housing, was on the Board of Directors, the Fire Watch Council, and advocating for another elderly lady.

I wrote my autobiography at 79, had a nervous breakdown, lost three good friends (including the lady I advocated for), and survived covid.

Today, as I sit here, I recently fell and broke a couple of ribs, cracked my collar bone, and discovered I had a blood clot. I take a med for it, and I am in a good humour. But I finally figured out I could stop striving for things hard to get. Or unnecessary. I am well, still in good humour, tired of the trumpeter and ignoring politics (though I will still vote), and watching ACORN television, British television. I am watching and admiring Sam Heughan and wish I could move to Scotland, but it is a bit late for that, and I let my passport cancel. I am possibly (maybe) awaiting something from a half brother who died and left no will. With which, if I get it, will enable my best friend and I to take a train trip through Louisiana, Tennessee (my niece), and Washington DC which we have never been to, and the balance to be donated to several American Indian organizations, and the SPLC,which I already donate to.

In the meantime, I have four or five interests, which I will give my time to. My cats, food (I love to cook, like foods other than American), my booze, my cigarettes, and British television. I will keep up with Sam, and my interest in Scotland. I will vote, but otherwise, I am going to chill out in my apartment, read, listen to Tommy Fleming (and others), and just enjoy being alive. No more stress.

I hope this site stays here in some form. I do not use other social sites, especially those which are way too political. I've given up my energy to fight evil. I hope you, my friends, are able to find some peace in your lives.

Carol in Austin

[starheart-blog]

75 Timeless Jazz Classics [Smooth Jazz, Jazz Classics]

The Nine Jazz Bar and Jazz Club of Julius The cartoon Cat AU Comic music/songs.

[nancypullen]

Snip Snip

Well, that's done. Just after noon I drove to Glam Salon in Easton (I think "glam" and Easton cancel each other out) and got rid of a lot of hair. I don't love it, but I don't hate it either. As far as my hair is concerned, that's a win. My appointment was for a cut and highlights on the crown to lighten it up a bit and allow my white to grow in. That's always ridiculously expensive, and quite frankly, I don't see a big difference. First she chopped off a ton of hair, then painted in the highlights and wrapped me in foil. By this time I was questioning my choices.

I love that this pic is a little out of focus because it makes me look like I don't have a bunch of wrinkles. Spoiler alert: I do. Anyway, the end result is fine, and I'll probably keep my hair short and eschew any color. Easier and cheaper, two of my favorite things. I took a selfie before I left for my appointment. I went in with frizz, floppy layers, and a stripe of white roots. The middle shot was taken when i got home. The profile after I had changed into jammies and rubbed my eyes. Don't judge me.

I love the woman who cuts my hair and she is the one who kept me from going even shorter. She told me to try this for a while and see how I feel. She's probably right. I feel that this is a crone-worthy cut and I can live with it. So there are the photos I promised, don't expect to see my mug on this blog again any time soon. Moving on to more important matters - I haven't applied a single swipe of paint to that gorgeous desk/cupboard set. It's just too dang hot. We are still under all sorts of heat advisories, I think our high today was 97 with a "real feel" of 100-something. Totally unnecessary. The humidity is high and absolutely draining. I dragged the hose around and watered a few things and filled the bird bath, and just that little bit of activity felt like swimming in hot water in a wool sweater. Gross. Since I don't have a deadline for painting that piece I do believe I'll wait until the garage doesn't feel like a sauna. That might be a while. Because it's hot and I'm rattling around the house alone, I am not cooking. I've been polishing off dibs and dabs of leftovers in the frig - a bit of rotisserie chicken, a little tuna on crackers, fruits and veggies, I'm like one of those sucker fish that cleans your aquarium. I don't mind it. Keeps the house cool and my tummy full. Win-win. I think we should declare a moratorium on cooking until the high temp for the day is 75. Nothing that takes longer than microwave popcorn allowed.

That's enough from me today. The sun is sinking toward the horizon and the sky is a hazy lavender. That's my cue to roll the trash can to the curb and call it a night. In an hour I'll probably be reading in bed, surrounded by cats. Look at that, another win!

I'll leave you here and try to think of something to write about tomorrow. Perhaps the fact that I refuse to give up on my stunted gardens and have decided that I'll try pumpkins again. Ever the optimist, a glutton for punishment, and a firm believer since 1963.

I'm going to pop seeds into the front bed as well as the garden on the side of the house. I used to grow lovely pumpkins in TN, I refuse to believe that my pumpkin farming days are over. Now is the time to plant for a Halloween harvest. Send me some good vibes, light a candle, rub some beads, sacrifice a chocolate bar, whatever it takes. I'm full of hope. I'll meet you back here tomorrow. Until then, stay safe, stay well, keep COOL.

XOXO, Nancy

[waterfallofspace]

Curiosities & Consequences

Happy birthday to @onetrickponi !!! I hope you have an amazing day today, andddd here's a lil gift for you!~

Tried to combine two things from your wishlist, "Anything where one character hears the other sneeze for the first time and they talk about it...extensively" as well as "#74 and #75 for A.ngo" Hopefully it turned out okay!~

Word Count: 4k Characters: A/ngo and O/da Set In the Dark Era, miiild b/sd spoilers, so proceed with caution!

“ihH’YTCHhew!” 

The noise cuts through the quiet bar, seeming to echo off every empty glass, being passed around like a ping pong ball of unfortunate timing. Oda’s glass stops swirling in his hand, the only outward indication he heard it. But god, how could he have missed it. 

Ango slowly removes the hand from his face, tilting his glasses down to clear the fog before Oda can notice how deep the heat soaks into his cheeks. It’s too late, of course. He’s trained to notice, and it’s not like anything about that was subtle. 

They stay frozen in that moment, Ango’s eyes hidden as they scan Oda for any indication of reaction. Maybe they’re just going to pretend it didn’t happen..? He’d always been so careful, especially around Dazai, if that man caught even an ounce of weakness, well… cat’s aren’t the only thing that play with their food before devouring it. But Oda never seemed the type for that sort of playful torture, at least not when Dazai wasn’t around. 

“Bless you, Ango.” 

It’s simple enough, not an indication there’s a conversation to be had, or a trap being set. Cautiously, Ango lifts a hand in reply, letting a light sniffle break free before speaking, attempting to conclude the interaction. 

“Thank you.” 

There’s silence again for a bit, broken only by the ice clinking against the filled glass as Oda resumes his careful swirls. Ango finds himself strangely mesmerized as the liquor catches the edge, gaining speed with each swirl. Surely they will spill out. Yet, Oda’s fingers twitch, bringing the glass to a new angle, keeping every drop in their place. 

“Never heard that before,” Oda says, the volume indicating it was meant to be heard, though his eyes never leave the glass. 

Ango takes a sip of his own drink, wishing it was something a lot stronger, more alcoholic. After a few painstaking minutes of silence, it becomes more apparent that he’s waiting for a reply. 

“Never heard what?” Ango offers, prompting the beginning of a discussion. One he’s almost certain he doesn’t want to have. 

“I mean, it’s common enough with Dazai. He’s quite sensitive in general, but more than that, he goes and makes a production of each one,” Oda trails off, the ghost of a smile lighting up the corners of his mouth. 

“Is that so,” Ango replies, careful to steady his hand as he takes another sip. This conversation is going exactly where he thought it might, but hoped it wouldn’t. Perhaps he can steer it more towards Dazai. He’s off on a mission, and while there’s no doubt he’ll return, unharmed, bored as ever, and with a few new gruesome stories, Oda’s worried for him. 

Oda nods slowly, taking another long sip. “I know you’ve noticed too.” 

“Hard not to,” Ango agrees, memories playing on a screen behind his eyes. “He really does like attention, doesn’t he?” 

“Only the right kinds. Not alone in that, is he?” 

Ango pauses, taking note of how Oda’s eyes still haven’t left his drink. There’s no indication in his tone that anything has changed. No move has been made, no chess piece shifted, and yet… the air gets thinner as Ango attempts to suck in a breath.

Silence seems the safest bet, any response will simply be taken as a continuation, and Oda’s more likely to drop it without interaction. Counterpart to the young executive who will continue pestering until he gets what he wants. 

“Always figured you’d be more subdued. Pent up, I guess.” 

Perhaps he’s been taking lessons. Dazai seems the type to teach his annoyances, eager to show Oda something new. For that matter, eager to show anyone something new. Silence is off the table, it would only make this worse, Oda doesn’t seem ready to drop it. 

Resigning himself with a sigh, Ango offers a light hum in reply. There wasn’t a question to answer, though one is sure to follow. 

“Are your sneezes always so desperate?” 

Despite the preparation, this catches him off guard. Ango raises his eyes, glass hitting the table with more force than he intended as he finds another set waiting to meet him. Oda gives him a look. Calculating, yet… amused? 

“I- What..?” Ango stutters out, not one to be lost for words, he attempts to find the string that will pull him back into the conversation with ease. For once, it seems to lead nowhere, continuing to sputter out beginnings to a sentence, never catching a grasp of the middle. 

Mercifully, Oda pulls him from the spiral, eyes still resting in Ango’s. “I always figured it would be more like the boss. Something subdued, polite even. With him, you can tell it’s holding back more, but it’s still quiet enough that you don’t pay it any mind.” 

“You’ve given this quite some thought,” Ango manages, composure hanging on by a thread as Oda repositions himself, hand against his chin, glass long abandoned on the table. 

“I guess it’s something about patterns, predicting things, understanding how people work. Keeps you safe in this line of work,” comes Oda’s reply, eyes still holding Ango’s. Searching for something? 

“Analyzing people’s sternutations provides you a sense of safety?” Ango says, humour masking the barely hidden embarrassment starting to take its place within his cheeks. 

“Not quite.” 

“What’s the point then, if I may ask?” 

Oda stops, blinks, and regards Ango with a newfound sense of confusion. As if the answer is something obvious, something they both knew, and Ango was playing the fool. It’s not as if Ango is new to the part, but in this drama, he’s simply playing himself. 

Amusement takes over where the confusion drifts off, Oda letting out a chuckle. Ango can’t help the smile that jumps into his eyes at this, laughter from Oda was always contagious. 

“I suppose,” Oda begins, finally letting his gaze drop back to his glass, “curiosity. You’re something of a mystery to me, though I guess in this line of work everyone is in one way or another.” 

“Well, then I suppose…” Ango takes in a breath, unsure why he’s about to offer this, and even less so why it feels so easy when it’s Oda. “I’ll indulge your curiosity for the night. I have no better plans, I don’t have another meeting till after Dazai returns.” 

Oda takes another calculated sip before turning back to Ango, a smile across his face. It’s plain, not overly joyful, no flashing teeth or beaming eyes, and yet… it’s the purest form of happiness Ango has ever seen. 

“I’ll repeat my question from before, are they always so desperate?” 

“No, they are not.” 

Oda doesn’t reply, simply watching Ango with that look that almost feels predatory, in a way that doesn’t set off a single alarm. It’s a comfortable sort of being watched, as if he’s already seen through you, and is just waiting for what comes next. 

After enough time it becomes clear an explanation is required, not simply an answer. 

“I suppose they always have that… power?” Ango begins, eyes flicking back to his drink as he once more longs for a stronger kick. “No, power’s not the right word.” 

“Desperation,” Oda offers. 

“Irritation,” Ango continues, feeling the ghost of a flutter begin to spread. Damn this all. “Though, you weren’t incorrect with the assumption they’d normally be more controlled.” 

“Like the boss. Dazai called it stifling, I was just going with suppression.” 

“He’s not incorrect,” Ango takes a pause to sip his drink and mentally curse the executive for his wide ranging knowledge. “I do normally… stifle. I find it draws less attention, makes it easier to maintain composure-”

“-And the upper hand,” Oda cuts in with, eyes once more flickering up to meet Ango’s. 

“Correct. Though, there are a few downsides, or situations where it’s not ideal to suppress them so dramatically.” 

Oda pauses, eyes tracing Ango’s face, analyzing. Finding weakness- no. Not looking for weaknesses… just, looking. For what? He always seems to be doing that, looking for something not quite there. 

Sure, he looks for the trap too, tries to see the danger, but… it’s more than that. It’s as if there’s another world, just outside ours, and he’s always watching it. It always did feel like that with those two. There was a world Dazai lived in, one Oda was watching, but Ango could never quite see. 

“And those would be?” Oda breaks through Ango’s thoughts, voice even as ever. 

“Well, there’s a couple answers to that. When it comes to downsides of stifling, it varies person to person. I find that I often get a headache if I continue for too long, though people like the boss don’t seem to share that struggle.” 

Oda chuckles, quietly offering, “I wouldn’t be so sure of that.” 

Electing to ignore the interruption, Ango continues. “Some people, like Dazai, seem to be unable to stop until they let it out fully. Though, I’m not exactly an expert on that, I’ve only seen it twice with him.” 

It’s easier when talking about someone else, when it’s just observing patterns. Maybe that’s why Oda was able to pursue this conversation without hesitation. Oda, for his part, seems to be soaking it all in. Perhaps taking mental notes, or just considering everything said. Either way, Ango can’t help but feel he’s a bit too interested for a conversation such as this. 

Lost in thought, Ango doesn’t feel it coming until, once again, it’s too late to prevent it. 

“hh’ieHTNG– shiew!” 

The stifle is barely contained, the breathy end of the sneeze still slipping out between Ango’s tented hands. It was desperate too, loud, and there’s no longer a chance the conversation doesn’t move back to him. 

“Bless you again,” Oda says, voice decidedly even. 

“Tha-k you,” Ango replies, voice decidedly not. 

“So, that was you stifling?” Oda asks, not waiting a second to let Ango compose himself once more. “I figured with how much you say you do it, you’d be better at it.” 

“Normally I am,” Ango retorts, a touch of offense plaguing his words. “It just… caught me off guard.” 

“Twice?” 

It’s phrased as a question, but no answer is required. This version of taunting he may not have learned from Dazai, but it’s most certainly a skill Dazai was happy to nurture.

“I was not… expecting the irritation today. It’s natural for the human body to release a sternutation from time to time without a catalyst to set it off, and I am much more prepared when it’s one of those-” 

Oda holds up a finger, Ango pausing his sentence. After a sip, Oda asks, “Shouldn’t those be what you’re not prepared for? There’s no indication they’re coming, unlike when you’re sick or run into somethin’ that sets you off.” 

“I suppose it’s more complicated than simple ‘expectations’. It’s more… desperation, as you put it. When it’s a natural one, I find it more tolerable. I can usually hold it off, or if not, stifling is an easy way to contain it.” 

Oda nods, gesturing for him to continue. 

“If it’s from an illness, or allergen, those are a lot more… desperate. They’re your immune system reacting to something as a threat, and taking precautions to avoid further assault.” 

“So,” Oda adds, locking eyes once more. “You’re saying that you find it harder to stifle the sneezing when you’re allergic to something?” 

“I- I suppose so, yes.” Ango says, feeling the heat flood his cheeks again as the hypothetical becomes direct. 

“And so you’re having an allergic response tonight?” Oda asks, eyes beginning to scan the bar, obviously for something new that could be setting this off. 

“Yes, I assume they’ve changed the cleaning products for the bar recently.” 

Debating a lie, Ango decides to go for the truth, hoping it’ll satisfy the curiosity before this gets even more unbearable. The more they talk about it, the deeper he can feel the itch beginning to crawl. 

“I didn’t smell anything different, though I guess I wasn’t exactly looking for it either,” Oda offers, obviously testing the air. Ango finds himself doing the same out of instinct, before realizing the error. 

“hH’INCh! nGT’ch!” 

“Didn’t you just say that hurt?” 

Ango manages a watery gaze, seeing something in Oda’s expression… concern? He doesn’t have time to think about it for long before the tickle seizes him again, ducking into his wrist with one, two, three, four tight expulsions, stifled damn near silently. 

The headache threatening to form begins to pulse against his temples, sigh escaping through gritted teeth. When he’s sure enough the fit has ended, Ango leans back, waiting for the next comment from his drinking partner. 

It doesn’t come. 

Instead, Ango finds himself in a long silence, once more only the clinking of ice against glass breaking up his thoughts. It’s not like he wanted a blessing, or a conversation, or god forbid a taunt, but… the silence is somehow worse. 

“Sorry”, Ango finds the apology slipping out, despite… not quite knowing what he’s sorry for. 

There’s another long pause, before Oda finally breaks through the tension. “It hurts, doesn’t it?” 

“Yes.” 

“Then why do it?” 

Nearly choking on his drink, Ango coughs out a shaky “Wh-what?” before meeting Oda’s unwavering gaze. There’s a determination in it, and… that same concern. 

“Why do it? If it hurts, and it’s just us here, why stifle them?” 

“Matter of habit, I guess,” Ango offers, the embarrassment starting to spill over into his ears. 

The answer seems to satisfy Oda, a more peaceful quiet falling over the bar. At least for a minute, until Oda breaks it again, voice softer this time. 

“You don’t have to do that with me.” 

Ango gives him a look, trying to catch the trap before he falls into it. Still, despite being unreadable as ever, Oda’s expression is… soft. Almost, gentle? 

“I don’t have to…?” 

“Stifle, I mean. I’ve already heard you sneeze, fully I mean, and well… I already know you’re allergic, what’s the point in hiding it?” Oda offers, glancing back at Ango with that same softness. It’s a look usually reserved for Dazai, and Ango can’t help but feel… strangely honoured that he received the same one. 

“Oh. I… suppose you’re correct,” Ango replies, raising an eyebrow as Oda begins to chuckle. “What’s so funny?” 

“Just, always thought you and Dazai were the smart ones, and yet I always find myself explaining the most basic concepts to you two. I guess even geniuses have gaps in their knowledge.” 

Oda’s still laughing, a sound so foreign to his normal composure, and within seconds Ango feels himself joining in. Every ounce of careful caution begins to flood from him with the laughter, till the bar is filled with sounds of joy. You’d never guess they were two members of one of the most dangerous operations in the country, in that moment, they were just two friends sharing a laugh over drinks. 

~~~~~

It’s a few days later when the two find themselves alone in Lupin once again. This time Dazai simply skipped the meeting, citing ‘annoyances of a higher degree to attend to’. They hadn’t asked what he meant, and he hadn’t offered. At first Ango was planning to skip as well, it was Dazai who had insisted they meet so soon anyways, but he felt bad leaving Oda all alone. 

Within minutes of sitting down, Ango had felt the itch begin to spread again, faster this time than the last. With a touch of desperation, his eyes had scanned the bar and, to his horror, found the cleaning supplies still sitting out. Thankfully Oda hadn’t arrived yet, so the first few fits were had in relative peace. The bartender had excused himself to another room after the first burst, most likely out of pity. 

It didn’t take long for the itch to begin spreading over his entire face, eyes watering as the tickle grew with each passing moment. He was just getting ready to text Oda that he couldn’t make it tonight when low and behold, the man showed up. 

If Oda noticed the state Ango was in, he didn’t mention it, simply sat down and began to sip the drink already waiting for him. Already preparing his excuses, Ango began to stand, before freezing. 

The tickle began its slow crawl, dancing up his nose, fluttering around his nostrils, that slow, painstaking itch, the one that meant this next fit was going to be desperate, itchy, and intense. 

“So what are we celebrating tonight?” With either the worst, or perhaps best, timing, Oda chose this moment to speak up, turning towards Ango. 

Words far beyond his reach at this stage, Ango can only cast a watery gaze towards Oda, nose twitching of its own volition. Oda meets his gaze with a calculated look, before offering him some kindness and turning away. 

“ngTChh!”  

The first is carefully stifled, jolting his whole body with the force of it. As the second begins to form, Oda is on his feet, moving with a speed and grace Ango rarely sees. When he stops, he’s standing before Ango, fingers gripping his arm. 

“You remember what we said about stifling?” 

The question isn’t expected, and Ango finds the sneeze backing away for a minute from sheer surprise. It doesn’t last long, the pinprick tickles spreading across the bridge, and with a desperate nod, he turns away from Oda, folding into his arm. 

“ihh’tyEYShhew! heHh– yEHTSHh’iew! ihTSHhh’iEW!” 

They’re pitchy, desperate, and leave him doubled over. Still, despite that, for the first time since he entered the bar, Ango breathes a sigh of relief as the tickle seems satisfied. 

“That must be one hell of an itch,” Oda chuckles, taking his seat once more and gesturing for Ango to be seated as well. 

“It’s one hell of an allergy,” Ango finds himself replying, seating himself back in the stool, acutely aware he’s leaning against the allergen itself. 

“Seems so. And you waited here anyways?” 

“We had plans,” Ango says, letting a sniff break free. He regrets it instantly as the fire lights in his sinuses once more. 

“iTCHhew! tSChhh– iew!” 

“Bless. Those don’t sound as desperate, maybe letting them out helps after all?” Oda says, eyes meeting Ango’s with a flicker of amusement. 

“It’s highly probable,” Ango replies, letting a finger scrub under his nose. His nostrils flare at the touch, breath starting to waver again. 

“Tickles when you do that?”

The question is sudden, and Ango feels heat flood his cheeks instantly. “Wh- what?” 

“Rub your nose like that. It usually stops the itch for me, but given how your nose is trembling, I’m guessin’ it just makes it itch more?” 

It’s still phrased as a question, seeking an answer, waiting for Ango to answer. He finds his words lost, finger still pressed under his nose as the tickle, ignorant to his embarrassment, continues to grow. 

“W-well… I don’t… I think-” Ango stutters, at a loss for words as Oda studies him. 

Finally the itch decides for him, tired of being held back, and he finds himself ducking away with another quick burst. The first is subdued, muffled against his sleeve, but by the third the desperation is back, pitchy, with almost a whine to them. 

This doesn’t go unnoticed by Oda, who wipes the smirk from his face when Ango glares at him through steamed glasses.

“Sorry, sorry. Bless again. I guess that answers my question.” 

“I suppose so,” Ango manages to choke out, a harsh sniff managing to stem the tide for now. But given he’s practically bathing in a chamber of allergen, it won’t be subdued for long. 

“So,” Oda starts, leaning closer with that same graceful speed. “What if I do this?” 

His finger brushes Ango’s nose, the soft contact eliciting a whine before Ango can even process the interaction. Ango feels the blush spread to his ears, eyes wide as he fumbles for words. 

“Wh- why are you… what are- hieHhh–” 

“Does it tickle when I do this?” Oda asks, voice even and measured, despite the position he’s placed himself in. 

Ango can barely think through the maddening itch, thoughts bouncing around with no real train to speak of. Oda’s finger begins to move gently, back and forth, tears springing to Ango’s eyes. 

Why would he do this? This is something Dazai would do. I’m gonna sneeze.  Is he testing a theory? Is it because I didn’t answer his question?  I’m gonna sneeze. 

Soon one thought becomes overwhelming, ‘have to sneeze’. With the last sense of decorum he has left, Ango manages to push himself away from Oda, only having time to duck into his wrist as the sneezes begin to break free. 

“iTChh– nnCHhh– ihHTChheEW! ahyESHHh’iew!” 

“Bless you,” Oda offers, voice still contained, as if he wasn’t solely to blame for this outburst. 

“tiEShhh’iew! hH– AHTSHh’ew!” 

“Bless again.”

“ngtchh! ah’dngtch! ngtt! nGT! eh’dGnt!” 

The fit trails off into desperate stifles, each one barely audible, no real power behind them, but overwhelmingly itchy. As Ango takes a breath, finally getting a break long enough to open his eyes, he soaks in the concern etched on Oda’s face. 

Despite this being entirely his fault, Ango still feels the urge to reassure him. 

“I’b- eh’tcHHhew! Id’s- hH’YETchh’ew! Sorry, I’b okay- eH’TSSHh– shiew!” 

With a final breath, the itch swells, and Ango turns into his arm for a final, desperate sneeze, scraping the edges of his throat. As he lets a few light coughs spill out, he turns back to Oda, who has apparently been speaking. 

“-test a theory. Guess I’ve picked up too much from Dazai, I just… didn’t expect that type of reaction. Are you alright, Ango?” 

“I-” Ango begins, voice breaking immediately. After another cough, and sip of the water Oda holds out to him, Ango tries again, waving off the concerned look Oda’s throwing his way. “I’m alright, really. It’s okay, you had no way of knowing it would cause… that.” 

Oda chuckles a bit, though his eyes still hold the concern. “I suppose not, but still. I’ve seen Dazai when he’s stuck in a room with dust for too long…” 

They both shudder at the memory, Ango mentally cursing the executive again for that book situation. 

“I should have put the pieces together. Besides, it’s not as if you’re exactly looking…” Oda trails off, gesturing vaguely to Ango’s face. 

“A bit rude, given this was your fault,” Ango scoffs, letting the smile show in his eyes when a light blush dusts Oda’s cheeks. 

“Sorry about that again.” 

“It’s alright, really. A fit like that was bound to happen, regardless of your interference. Besides,” Ango offers, taking his turn to blush. ��It wasn’t exactly the first one I’ve had while in here.” 

“Is that why we’re alone here? I thought it was a bit weird there was no one to tend the bar,” Oda chuckles, smile spreading further as Ango groans lightly. 

“I think he pitied me, wanted to give me a hint of false privacy.” 

“You do look pretty rough,” Oda observes, rising from the bar once more. “Why don’t we get out of here? Dazai’s the one who wanted to meet anyways, and he didn’t even bother to show up. No use tormenting you.” 

Ango stands too, but pauses for a second, glancing down at the ice slowly melting in Oda’s drink. Despite the itch, despite the embarrassment, despite everything… 

“At least finish your drink first, I’m not one to waste liquor.” 

Oda seems surprised, but follows Ango’s lead and sits down again.

“You sure about this? I’d think you want to go home and sleep the reaction off.” 

With a smile, Ango meets Oda’s gaze. “I guess there are still some basic concepts you need explained too.” 

Despite the explanation never following, the message is well understood. Silence falls over the bar once more, broken only by the clinking of ice against glass, and a handful of desperate sneezes. 

Ango wouldn’t have it any other way. 

[littleharpethcrossfit]

Sunday, 29 September, 2024.

Class met at 1 PM

Warmup #1

Big Shane did triple duty today. He led the mobility/flexibility warmup, followed by perfect coaching instructions for the Military Press and the Overhead Squat.

Warmup

Miss Dana was our Demo/Model and leader.

Tabata's

4 Rounds

Good Mornings

Toe Touch & Reach

Bird Dogs

Cat-Cows

Strength

Military Press.....10 / 5 / 3 / 2 / 2 / 2

Bernie/Shane=155.....WG=155 (I saw ?).....Ed=125 Nathan/Owen=115.....Herb/Dyer=100.....Dana=95.....Elisa=70 Sue=65.....Sabrina=45.....Kim=PVC .....Alicia/Linda/S.C./Coach and others=didn't post

WOD

"NANCY

A CrossFit Benchmark "Girl WOD"

5 Rounds

Barbell.....( 95 / 75 / 55 )

Run 400 / Row-Ski 500 / Bike 1000m

15 Overhead Squats

Dana*=15:32.....Bernie*=15:38.....Shane*=15:48.....Ed*=16:00 Sue=16:14.....Nathan=16:19.....Herb=17:20.....Sabrina=20:25 Elisa=20:35.....Dyer=20:49.....Kim=21:00 Owen/Linda/Coach/Alicia/S.C. and others=no posts

NOTE:

Most of us cannot do Overhead Squats with proper form, especially with any significant weight on the bar. Doing Overhead Squats with too much weight & poor form can wreck your shoulders. Athletes were cautioned to use a weight light enough to do 15 unbroken reps with good form, even if that means using an empty bar. "PROPER MECHANICS BEFORE INTENSITY" a Great Coach once said.

RX is CORRECT MECHANICS

Most people, especially the Girls, followed the above advice.

Kim was the new girl today. Although she lives across the river and has walked the Arboretum, passing by our activities many times, she was apparently too shy to venture into our gate. But her friend Elisa fixed that problem and brought Kim today. Kim also knows Alicia and probably some others, so she fit right in. She was awarded the Lifetime Free LHCF membership and a complimentary T-Shirt. I think Kim will be one of the 10% who actually return.

The next workout at the Barn will be at 4 PM Thursday, with traditional snacks and wines to follow.

[that-obsessed-gay-girl]

6. Are handjobs boring, or underrated? 8. Do you like having your nipples touched? 11. Do you like mild roughness (scratching, spanking, hair-pulling, etc.)? 12. Do you have any kinks? 17. Do you like being naked? 18. Do you sleep partially/fully naked? 20. Are you comfortable with partners seeing you nude in non-sexual contexts? 31. What kind of underwear do you normally wear? 32. Do you ever go commando? 38. Do you find genitals physically attractive, or weird/gross, or not feel strongly either way? 41. Do you like your butt? 43. Do you care/have a preference what partners do with their pubic hair? 54. Have you ever had sex in a public place? 58. Are you particularly “vocal” when masturbating/having sex? 64. Your most embarrassing sexual experience? 67. Do you think you’re “good” at sex, or your performance/skill could use improvement? 69. What’s something you like about your body? 70. What’s something you dislike about your body? 71. What body parts do you find the sexiest? 75. Do you often imagine people naked?

6. Chris always likes using her fingers on a woman, that way she can get the lay of the land down there and understand where her partner is more sensitive or less sensitive.

8. Absolutely not.

11. Very much so. Even if it's not so mild.

12. Chris likes to edge her partner, to make her partner beg for it, and to hear her partner. Other than that, she doesn't have anything specific.

17. Chris is very much a nudist at home- she likes being only in her boxers.

18. Again, only boxers for the win. She doesn't like sleeping with clothes.

20. Very much so. It builds trust and intimacy. Like a cat showing you it's belly.

31. Loose boxer briefs, the pattern doesn't really matter.

32. Almost never, but when she needs to do laundry she rations her underwear for the week.

38. Chris really likes the look of another woman's genitals, she finds it attractive and fascinating.

41. She doesn't feel strongly about her butt either way. It's just there for her to sit on.

43. Chris doesn't have a preference really, but it's nice to have a smooth one once in a while.

54. The most public it ever got was in a bar bathroom.

58. Not at all, other than breathing and talking. It makes her feel uncomfortable with herself.

64. Hooking up with some girl and going to sneak out- and being caught by her high school principal which was the girl's dad.

67. Chris has been told she's very good by her many one night stands, yet she chooses to believe that every woman is different. You can be good for one and bad for another. So it's every case on its own.

69. Chris likes her shoulders and her abs. All of her top half, to be honest.

70. Her mythic scar.

71. Sometimes she's no better than a man. Chest and hips and ass. And a good smile is important too.

75. Yes and no. Usually she does it to weaken the person in her mind.

[radiojamming]

sorry the what hotel experience that closed breakfast at 5:30am?? Deejers I must know More

HI GLADIE :D

So my mom and I once went up to the Upper Peninsula of Michigan in January for funsies and stayed at a pretty cute hotel in St. Ignace. The thing was, it was snowmobile season up there, so on our first day, the place was super deserted and we p much had the run of the whole thing, and then the next day it was P A C K E D with snowmobilers and one team of dog sledders. The vibe was absolutely bonkers for the whole weekend, because some of these snowmobilers acted like frat boys and apparently there was a snowmobiling celebrity there? I didn't know there were snowmobile celebrities???

Anyway, yes, the hotel stopped serving breakfast at 5:30 in the morning. On Saturday morning, we went down to get something and the very Stepford-smiley receptionist told us they'd stopped serving, even though the sign in the dining area said breakfast was done at 8:30. Naturally, we had some questions, but the response was just, "We are so :) so :) sorry. We concluded :) breakfast service :) at 5:30. :) Can I recommend a restaurant?" (NB: Like 75% of the restaurants in the area are season-dependent and only open in the summer. We ended up getting McDonald's.) My closest guess on why they stopped serving so early is that snowmobilers are a hungry group and might have attacked the continental breakfast like locusts. Or maybe the dogs ate it all.

Other interesting features of this hotel included:

Open-face radiators mounted on the walls in the lobby and in some hallways so you could bask in front of them like lizards.

Multiple signs around the whole building either demanding guests don't feed the seagulls, or reminding guests that seagulls are violent and vicious and won't hesitate to hurt you.

Mounted deer antlers in some rooms, and pictures of hunters posing with dead deer in others. (That's the UP, babeyyyy!)

An indoor pool that was closed due to an undisclosed "pest problem". (Hot tub was open tho)

An inexplicably modern and well-furnished laundry room that looked like it was from a completely different hotel.

An awesome housekeeping staff person who knew so much gossip about the rich people on Mackinac Island.

A neighborhood tuxedo cat that would just wander on in to the lobby when he felt like it.

Magazines from the late 1970s that no one had ever bothered to throw away.

And honorary mention to one of the nearby restaurants/bars that was connected with the hotel where my mom and I went in time to watch a ton of Yoopers going bonkers over a Denver Broncos game; some were wearing jerseys or hats. We're nowhere near Denver. None of these people were even from Colorado.

Anyway, it was a really great weekend.

[aurorabayrpg]

we've added new locations and occupations!

Black Cat Cafe

Aurora Bay Museum of Art

Fire and Ice Steakhouse & Cocktail Bar

Stunning Styles Salon (Hair & Nails)

A big thank you to our mun, Quinn for coming up with the Fire and Ice Steakhouse! This is a new elegant restaraunt located inside of the Seascape hotel. There is a dress code and the prices are high but it's worth every penny. There's also a cocktail bar with no reservations needed.

Black Cat Cafe is a new add-on to Seaside Animal Rescue! Here is where you can come in and have a nice cup a coffee or tea and then go to a separate room to visit all the cats up for adoption! You can even walk out with an adopted cat after signing some papers and giving a 75 dollar donation to the animal rescue!

Aurora Bay Museum of Art has a large collections of pieces from all over the world, along with a gift shop for little trinkets and souvenirs.

Stunning Styles Salon is the best place to get your hair or nails done! There are two rooms separated by a glass wall. On one side you can get your nails done, on the other you get your hair styled!

We've also added a managerial position to the Seascape Hotel!

We are slowly adding new locations so if you have any ideas or suggestions, please let us know!

[drewtanakagf]

so curious about 2 + 3 from your WIP game post 👀

SEX SYMBOL: follow up on teen pics, but with drew and Rachel as adults and them navigating their careers, but still keeping the idea of the object and voyeur that is a the root of feminist film theory. but hopefully also incorporating other parts of fem film theory too

excerpt:

When she was younger, more naive, poolside at a resort while her father was taking a work call or some else, she sipped on her lemonade imagining it was a martini, like she always saw on TV. Sugar-crusted glass and a wedge of lime. Red lips leaving behind smudged glass after a slow, sinful sip. Sunglasses, cat eyed, lowered just enough for a sultry gaze to pierce the man of the hour. He'd gulp and avert his eyes and she would feel powerful. 

Rachel, who was there, a sopping wet girl with hair in wet strings on her face and a wetsuit of all things, tells her that she was a real-life Marylin Monroe. Drew preened. 

Until[ there was the man of the hour]. He wasn't young or too handsome, having a belly telling of his age and vices, sun-deepened wrinkles and salt and pepper hair with a barely kept beard. He stared and stared at Drew and gathered the courage to talk to her. 

“You want to be a model when you grow up?” 

Drew smiled, smug. He gets it. 

“Yes, sir” She said because men, especially of that age range love 

“You've certainly got the legs for it,” His smile is like the sun and Drew feels her face warm, but keeps a cool composure, like the Sun-Tanned-Bikini-Clad woman. 

She opens her mouth to accept the compliment when Wetsuit Girl jumps into the pool, a cannonball Splash! that wets Man of the Hour and Drew. 

Man of the Hour sputters and stands up to curse at her. Wetsuit Girl swims merrily, and shoots Drew a look, as if she were her savior. 

Drew rolls her eyes, makes note to trip Wetsuit Girl if she sees her at the breakfast bar the next day.

rose-colored girl: part three of well-loved humans and focuses on Piper, her idea of romance, and her anxieties about her relationship with Shel

excerpt:

Shel is a beautiful creature amidst the desolation of the desert. 

Today, her scarf is tied into a headband, twin strands ruffling in the wind behind her as she drives her uncle’s truck with the windows down, a single hand on the wheel resting with the confidence of a career trucker. 

Piper curls up on the passenger seat, knees up to her chest with a magazine propped up against her legs. If she wanted to see Shel’s face she'd have to crane her neck upwards, able to see the beauty mark on the underside of her jaw. 

Shel is a staunch defender of Americana music, guitar and soulful notes wafting through the air loud enough for the two girls to hear but be lost in the wind whipping past them. Shel is also a staunch believer in speed; the speedometer rests at an easy 75 miles per hour despite the sign reading 65  in bold black a mile back. 

Piper will give it to her. The highway is empty, the only audience the stretch of desert on either side of the road.

She reaches over to adjust the AC direction, magazine falling off her lap onto the floor. Shel’s concentration doesn’t break. 

Piper slumps back into the seat with a sigh. She runs a hand through her hair, shaking it at the root to accentuate the volume. Her fingers catch on a braid, bringing a small smile to her face. Shel insisted on braiding a piece of yarn in her hair before they left. It was electric pink and stuck out like a sore thumb compared to the rest of her outfit; a tan graphic tank top tucked into denim shorts. Her feet slide in and out of her sandals. Pink shouldn’t belong but Shel thought it should, do it did. 

Piper loves her for it.