#based off of the lobster poster

[yuzuuu4]

Now Showing: The Polaroid Starring Lu Guang and □□□

[fallensnowfan]

One Piece Academy chapter 40, 2/2:

We begin right where last chapter left off, Luffy and co arriving in Cora and Law's secret home. Luffy wonders about who Cora is, Nami tells him he is the person in the photo they saw last time. Cora asks what the intentions of the Straw Hats are and seems confused why they are here.

Everyone catches each other up to speed, Barto and Gambia are mentioned, then they begin a lively onigiri party in Cora's home! Luffy asks about the onigiri and Cora tells him the have umeboshi in them, pickled plums. Luffy already has a nickname for Cora too, Corao. Same idea as the nickname he has for Law, Torao. Cute!

After the onigiri party, Law's crew are brought up, and like the tsundere he is, Law rejects the idea that they are his friends(we know he thinks of them as his friends though.) Then Cora leads the group into a hidden bunker within the hidden bunker he is living in. Love the layers of secrecy. On the next page we see that...

...Cora has been keeping a tabs on Doffy big time! He has a big room with several computer monitors displaying the flamingo man's stats and such! This is so fun.

Cora and the group go on to talk about the kind of person Doffy is, his base, his followers, and so on. We see a book shelf with the names of many of his crew written on them. Diamante, Trebol, etc. then a screen displaying Onigashima Middle School pops up.

Cora explains that he is working everyday to gather intel about Onigashima Middle School, and that he is preparing counter measures to stop Doffy's plans.

As Cora steps away from his monitors, his leg catches the extension cord powering them and unplugs it, shutting them down hahaha. Never change Cora, you're perfect as you are. As he's plugging the cords back together Nami, who calls him Cora chan, asks about his connection to Doffy. Cora tells everyone that he is Doffy's younger brother and that Doffy is involved in a "world of darkness."

Cora continues to tell them about Doffy's connections to the town and brings up his "Joker" alias, talks about the nature of Doffy's plan, his followers, and the nature of evil.

The conversation then shifts to the day Doffy was going to kill Cora in the past, Cora talks about how Doffy was unaware him remaining silent was a choice, then after Nami asks how he survived, we learn that Sengoku saved him and that Tsuru was involved as well.

The conversation shifts back to talking about the town, Whitebeard is mentioned, Kaido's influence is mentioned. Nami says they need to stop Doffy before things get out of control.

Cora continues, explaining how Doffy wants to destroy the peace of New World Middle School/the entire town. Aaaaand Luffy is talking about how the lobster Doffy gave him a few chapters ago and the onigiri would taste good together. Luffy and loving food, name a more iconic duo. Not that he doesn't still love food, though he definitely acts closer to his pre-timeskip self in this spin-off haha. Nami and Usopp comically snap at him about deciding between lobster onigiri and the peace of the town.

The chapter ends with Luffy making up his mind that he will work with Cora to defeat Doflamingo, then Cora having a flashback to asking Law about his day at school was, Law showing Cora a poster of Luffy, and Cora noticing that Luffy has the D in his name. After the flashback concludes, Cora tells Luffy he is glad to have met him.

Very substantial chapter. We now have two characters with a heart motif who the Straw Hats are friends with, and who have intel about Onigashima Middle School. Cora and Okiku. Three if you count Law.

Next chapter could continue this thread or veer off into a story about Nojiko or something! You can never be sure with Academy though I'm looking forward to finding out.

Next chapter releases on the 4th/5th of January!

[the-heaminator]

now i'm going to ask you about your version of pruk for the ask game hehe. and while i'm here, maybe gereng? for comparison? 👀👀

Gives nose/forehead kisses: 

Lmao for once I'd say Arthur instigated them, this says more about Gilbert than it says about anyone else. If Arthur is unnacoustomed to touch, Gilbert is always a couple levels ahead, even soft little kisses with purely chaste intentions gets Gilbert into a blushing mess of curses.

Gets jealous the most:

Arthur, hes the metaphorical green eyes monster, Gil can be jealous, he just tends to internalize it and it comes out as bitterment, Arthur will become jealous quicker and will be more likely to bite.

Takes care of on sick days:

Usually it's just whoever is the least diseased, can ee mostly straight and has most of their organs in the right place, but based on the fact that Gilbett gets ill more often, Arthur plays nurse more. They make each other eat cod liver oil out of spite (I'm still mad about this)

Drags the other person out into the water on beach day: 

Arthur does the dragging, salt encrusted sewer rat wants to drag his sewer pigeon husband into the water. Gilbert gets so badly burned each time, like he wears full body clothes at the beach to stop getting burned, goes into the water and comes out looking like a lobster and goes to sleep with a beer in hand in the shade afterwards.

Brings the other lunch at work:

Neither of them eat unless they're like about to fall down, they just forget food is an option, but Gilbert has more spare time so I'll say he at least tries to get a sandwich into him and Arthur at least once every two days.

Tries to start role-playing in bed: 

Look me in the eyes and tell me that Gilbert could roleplay if his life depended on it. Good, we know its Arthur, Gilbert has the sensibilities of a kid brought up in a strict catholic school as a choir boy, he gets flushed red when someone takes their shirt off, getting in bed is a task that needs a lot of reassurance and cuddling, because Gilbert is not fucking good at this and Arthur is a whore of the highest calibre, so they have to make do by being relatively much slower than Arthur is used to, but it's still pleasurable. Gilbert tries to be smooth. It has not worked in 200 years.

Embarrassingly drunk dancer: 

Yes

Firmly believes in couples costumes: 

Both of them, Gilbert would plan this so fucking well, I'm never forgetting that one fanart where Arthyr is a plug socket and Gilbert's a fork because hA.

Breaks the expensive gift rule during Christmas:

Neither of them, Gilbert prefers making things by hand, as does Arthur, so they're not technically buying things, but Gilbert has a tiny crochet Gilbird and all the jumpers and scarves his skinny ass could want and Arthur has wonderfully carved picture frames and little bits of welding that serve actual use around the house.

Makes the other eat breakfast:

Again, neither of them eat properly, so it's just whoever realises that they having eaten in half a week and pesters the other to eat too,posters bothgoddamn trainwrecks when it comes to looking after themesvles.

Remembers anniversaries: 

Gilbert, only because he had a list on the fridge if shit we need to do this week, or they would both forget too, they really are not good at this.

Brings up having kids first:

Already enough kids, Arthur made sure of that.

Kills the bugs:

Whoever find it gets to eat it, Arthur likes spiders, so does Gilbert.

First to define them as a couple:

Neither, more someone like Francis went "That's kinda gay I'm not gonna lie" and they went OH SHIT. Again, emotional processing as good as a computer from the 50s.

Who hides their guilty pleasures longer:

Usually this would be Arthur, but if Guilty and pleasure are together in a sentence you know its gotta be Gilbert, my man has enough repression to kill a horse, at least Arthur's a whore about it, Gilbert gets antsy when something he likes doing isn't deemed useful and then just diesnt do it, Arthur is a repressed anxious man, Gilbert is worse somehow.

Snorts while laughing:

Yes.

[lavenderbexlatte]

day 9 - collaring

nct 1.1k words gender neutral reader insert Reader x Ten Lee NSFW

🖤 warnings: morning sex! cat-based nicknames, shenanigans, bruising/marking, i love ten very very much 🖤

kinktober masterlist

connect with me! / masterlist

It just makes him look pretty.

That was the agreement, after a few different kinds of sessions using the collar. Actually to hold him in place and move him around with force? Not super convenient, and kind of painful for him in a way that isn't very sexy. For pet play, like actual animal stuff? Weirded him out after a few minutes, no matter how much he likes kitty-based nicknames.

But as an accessory, for some power play stuff and teasing and other assorted games? Perfect.

And he does look so pretty.

It's a pretty standard kink collar, just black leather and silver fixings. He'd taken it, though, the day it arrived to paint on some customization: an eye and some intricate patterns that he insists make up a flower but you think look more like tangled headphone wires. And a number 10, of course.

"I need to grab another water," Ten tells you.

It's only round, like, three, and he's already dehydrated. Punk-ass.

"Fine," you say, rolling dramatically onto your back.

He might be wearing the collar and a chain leash to boot, but with the number of bruises and bites that protest from your legs and back as you stretch, you think that you're actually the one who's owned, here.

The two of you have been going at it all morning, a rare case of both of you waking up more horny than hungry, so that's the only thing you have on. You, the bruises, and him, the collar and leash. You'd insisted that he put it on, even in his half-awake haze.

It's just so pretty.

Ten stands up and heads for the door, and you glance down at the end of the leash, still in your hand.

Seems like he's completely forgotten he has it on. You sit silently, biting back your laughter, until he gets around the corner and the leash pulls taut. There's a surprised noise, and then a pause, and then Ten reappears looking sheepish and amused.

"I'm gonna just unhook this," he says, reaching for the lobster clasp on the leash.

"No!" you whine.

"Then let go of the leash."

"What if you run away?" you muse. "Imagine the Missing Cat posters."

"You wouldn't."

"I would, and you know that."

He just fixes you with a glare, no malice behind it whatsoever despite his best efforts. You do drop the leash, though.

It trails behind him as he leaves the room, clinking against the wooden veneer flooring. The fridge doors opens, and shuts, and then he comes clinking back. Once he's in view again, you just hold out your hand.

"What?" he asks, cracking the water bottle for himself.

"Leash."

"You can come get it," he scoffs.

"That involves standing."

"And?"

"And as a bottom, I refuse."

"Just because you bottomed doesn't mean you're A Bottom," he replies.

Picky, picky. "Fine. Then as a person laying down, I refuse to stand up, since you're already standing. Leash."

Ten must really like you, because he scoops up the handle end of the leash from the ground and places it none too gently into your waiting hand. If he was a kitty with a tail, it would be twitching in annoyance at you.

"Thanks."

"Pest."

He drops gracefully back onto the mattress beside you, though, so he can't be too mad.

"How hard d'you think it would be..." you muse.

"Uh oh."

"...to get you to bruise in the shape of that collar?"

Ten loops a finger through one of the O-rings on the front of the accessory. "Sounds painful."

"You gave me like six hundred bruises. I wanna return the favor."

"I dunno..."

You wrap the chain around your hand a few times, taking away the slack on the leash and giving yourself easier access to the collar itself. Ten rolls his eyes as you tug gently on the leash, pulling the collar and making the leather press more insistently into his neck. Nothing that would hurt him, of course, especially since he's showing some doubt. But enough to get your point across.

"I'll take the leash off if you're done," you say. "But I think it'd be fun."

Ten leans away from you, making the collar pull even tighter.

"I do like bruises."

"You do," you agree.

"And I like you."

"You do?"

He reaches out to swat at you. "Surprisingly, yes."

You've gone three rounds already, but your refractory period is pretty good, and while Ten likes to take his time, you think you can coax him into some more. You're already getting a little riled at the idea of marking up his gorgeous throat. You can't help it, you're bitey.

"Lemme throw the water bottle in the recycling and we can talk about it," Ten says.

But when he goes to get up, you take a risk. You don't let go of the leash.

He doesn't choke, or anything, but he does stop short, sitting there upright as the leather digs into his neck and keeps him from getting any farther away. He glances at you.

You swallow. His eyes are blown wide, and he looks so-

"Can I...?"

He nods.

You give a firm pull on the leash, and he groans, light and pretty.

Earlier on when you'd tried this, back when you first got the collar, Ten hadn't been too keen on the discomfort (and, to be fair, pain, kink-induced sexy pain) that came with this kind of play. You'd barely tried it. But something seems to have changed.

"Is this okay?" you ask.

"You wanted a bruise, didn't you?" he replies.

It's not very sexy, the way you all but tackle him back to the mattress with a kiss. You remedy it quickly, though, one hand going to the O-ring to tug on the collar yourself, cutting out the middleman of the long chain leash, and the other hand going to Ten's half-hard cock.

"Can I really?" you ask, breathless.

Ten takes your lower lip between his teeth, biting playfully. "You don't trust me to say if it's too much?"

"I do," you answer as best you can.

"Then go ahead."

His skin is so flawless, golden-toned but pale from hours indoors, and he's got just the most delightful long, graceful neck. It was such a no-brainer to get him the collar, on aesthetics alone. And this is better than you'd imagined: the opportunity to use the damn thing to give him some lasting marks, to make him think about it - and you - even after he takes it off.

You grin down at him indulgently. "Okay, kitty cat, let's see how many times I can make you cum before this is over."

[hatsukoi-heartbeat]

SUMMER PARADISE

Based on Uta no☆Prince-sama♪ Debut, Chapter August: Paradise Lover.

Pairing: yollie (self-ship)

Word count: 3k

Key words: fluff, kissing, making out, canon alteration

Tw: mentions food

Rating: 13+ for the flirty make-out session

A/n: In this chapter of the game, Syo and Haruka are stranded on a deserted tropical island owned by Shining Saotome. It’s one of my favourite scenes and I’ve been wanting to write a fluffy yollie scenario around it.

For the first time in what felt like an eternity, it was the morning sun that stirred me awake rather than a harshly ringing alarm clock. As expected from a beach cottage that was built oceans away from civilization, the bedroom bathed in a sea of calm that just didn’t exist on the mainland with its early traffic and bustle. My consciousness leisurely drifted between dream and reality without a single cloud on the horizon, only the tantalising question of what breakfast I’d be having later.

Yesterday, during our exploration of the island, Syo and I stumbled into a grove packed with all kinds of tropical trees. An abundance of ripe fruit weighed down their branches just within our reach. We wasted no time picking our fill of blushing mangos and papayas and the largest wild bananas I'd ever seen. The anticipation of sinking my teeth into the juicy delicacies made my mouth water.

Eventually, the remnant sleepiness waned as excitement about a new, adventure-filled day on the island settled in. I opened my eyes to the polished wooden beams on the ceiling, then turned by a quarter towards the sight next to me… and what a sight it was. Beside me in the four poster-bed, like a dream in broad daylight, I found a sunkissed Syo with his blond hair all tousled, the bedsheet barely covering his bare chest. In the humid island climate, we hardly needed any blankets or even clothes besides our swimwear for that matter. With too few clothes and too much confidence came the inevitable sunburns but now the lobster-red had healed into a beautiful shade of bronze against the white cotton sheet, all I could think of was how good it looked on him.

His chest rose and fell at a drowsy pace, the telltale sign that he was still fast asleep. If there was anyone who deserved to rest up after weeks of non-stop recording and photoshoots, it was Syo. My own eyelids grew heavier with every second spent gazing at his sleeping face. To the sound of his sleepy breathing rhythm and the chirp of tropical birds, I let the continuous crashing of the ocean waves lull me back to sleep…

“Hnng…!” My eyes blinked open to Syo stretching each of his limbs with a groan. He noticed me looking at him through the crack between my eyelids and smiled as he reclined against the pillow. “Morning, sleepyhead. Did I wake you?” His voice croaked with sleep as it tended to do in the morning.

“Good morning.” Returning his smile, I shifted closer to him and pretended to be dozing off against his shoulder. His skin sweltered with the promise of another day spent in the sun. “Hm, I guess looking at you sleeping so soundly made me fall back asleep just a tiny bit."

“You were definitely asleep more than just 'a tiny bit', silly,” Syo laughed before falling silent and sitting up straight all at once, the messy spikes in his hair almost emphasising the fluster in his expression. "Hold on, you were watching me sleep?!"

It was too early in the day to be called out on something embarrassing I did so I hid my equally flushed face under the blanket. “I couldn’t help it because you looked so peaceful! I don’t get many opportunities to catch you asleep because you always wake up before me…”

“Well, I guess it’s fine if it’s you,” I heard Syo’s voice speak above me. His finger poked my head through the blanket. “Just don’t go around saying that I have a cute sleeping face or something!”

"Got it!" I said and quietly recalled the angelic image of him fast asleep.

The mattress creaked and shifted when Syo, in a surge of his usual energy, jumped out of bed. As I peeked above the blanket again, I couldn’t hide my smile at his tireless zest for life. Witnessing that first thing in the morning truly was a priceless gift. With a big gesture, he ripped aside the curtains and then clicked open the window that let in a gust of early summer heat. I caught a glimpse of the bright blue where the sky faded into the Pacific, perfectly outlining his silhouette.

“Whoa, the weather's looking great!” Syo stretched out his torso with his clasped hands raised towards the ceiling. My gaze hung back on the curve of his biceps when he folded his arms behind his head, revelling in the sun rays that shone golden on his hair. “Yep, today is gonna be a beautiful day. I just feel it.”

I gave a hum in agreement. “Let’s go for a swim before the sun gets too bright--” A low, discontented growl from my stomach interrupted those plans. “… but first, breakfast, please?”

“Alright, that’s what we’re gonna do, then!" A decision was made in the spur of the moment without as much as a second thought. Syo padded over to my form, still tangled in the bedsheets, and perched on the bedside with a spark in his eyes. “We’re free to do absolutely anything we want ‘cause we’re in paradise! No one's stopping us from just throwing open the terrace doors, letting in the sea breeze and having breakfast in bed.”

His excitement affected me so easily that I immediately sat up straight among our fluffy pillows and reached for his hand with a delighted gasp. “Great idea! I never had breakfast in bed before! Well, besides the few times when I caught the flu as a little kid.” One thought led to another as I reminisced about my past breakfast experiences. “Come to think of it, I've never taken the time to really enjoy breakfast. Everything just has to go so fast with work and school and other things like that.”

Syo eagerly nodded. “Even when you're young, you’re gonna finish your meal fast so you can go out and play sooner. Similarly, I’ve had breakfast in bed plenty of times at the hospital but that doesn’t count." With determination written all over his face, Syo squeezed my hands in his. "I wanna have a real breakfast in bed in a beautiful place like this with a pretty view… and most of all enjoy it together with you.”

His gentle gaze, as blue as the water behind him but filled with emotion stronger than any ocean current, melted me at my very core. “It truly sounds like a one-of-a-kind experience. I wanna make these memories with you, too,” I said, growing a little hot in my face when Syo leaned in closer to caress my cheek with a gentle thumb.

“Let's make many memories together while we're on this trip. Starting with… an appetiser before breakfast, yeah?” His voice had grown softer until it was only a breath on my lips… and then he pressed his mouth against mine. He lingered there, unmoving for one, two, five heartbeats, until my body was tingling all over as if a thousand little butterflies had travelled from my chest to my fingertips. “Mmm…”

“Wh-what?” I tried to subtly catch my breath in the time Syo took to lick his upper lip and scrunch up his face in thought. The way he was tasting and mulling over the flavour of my kiss like it was a foreign snack made my cheeks flare. Did I taste weird? Oh no, was it my morning breath?!

“Your lips are salty.” After declaring his findings, Syo leaned in to bring a strand of my hair closer to his face for a sniff. I involuntarily let out a squeak. “So is your hair. Did you forget to shower after swimming last night while I was in the recording room or something?”

Even though Shining Agency's president Saotome allowed us to vacation on his privately-owned tropical island, Syo didn't miss the opportunity to use the recording room attached to the beach cottage. It was a rare chance for him to be able to use it whenever and for as long as he wanted, though he stuck to one hour a day at most, and I didn't mind the little bit of me time to relax or video call my family.

"You think so?" I stuck out my tongue to the corner of my mouth for the answer to my own question, surprised to taste a tangy ocean flavour. “You’re right. I must've forgotten about it because I was so tired. Oops.”

"Heh. Good thing I can't say no to a savoury breakfast." Syo gave me a devilish grin before playfully kissing me down into my pillow until all I felt was the warm brushes of his lips on my skin and our cool bed sheets pooled around my body. He lavished me with a legato of kisses that melted from one into the other without once ever really leaving my lips untouched as if the tropical summer heat had fused them. His teasing nips and licks soon left me light-headed with indulgence sweeter than strawberry parfait. Being the object of his affection was overwhelmingly sensual as fulfilling every single one of my desires even before they crossed my mind was exactly what Syo strived for.

My hands travelled up the broadness of his bare shoulders, his neck, tracing the flexed muscle as Syo craned forward just to keep our lips connected, and finally cradled his face, already well-flushed with excitement. "I like mine sweet," I whispered in a peck on his cheek. For a few moments, I breathed in the natural, musky scent of his body with a light sigh before lying back my head to gaze up at him. The sight of his uncombed hair falling into his face was so delightfully homey that my heart bloomed with a love impossibly large like the endless oceanic vista that surrounded our island. With an ungroomed Syo right here in my hand palms, it was hard to resist kissing him all over his precious face.

"Is that so?” His aqua eyes had completely captured mine in their soft glint. “In that case, I can give you a sweet breakfast too." With his challenging smile growing even wider, he leaned in until both our foreheads and noses brushed together. In a breathless giggle under the tickle of his bangs on my skin, I eagerly accepted his kiss: one as gentle as the landing of a cherry blossom petal.

"What I meant to say is… Anything you do is sweet. You're just a very sweet guy." I combed his hair out of the troubled frown that crossed his forehead. “Don’t get me wrong. It’s not a bad thing at all. I… I really love that about you, actually.”

"I'm not all sweet!” Syo protested, despite showing me his sweetest blue eyes and even sweeter-tasting pink pouty lips. “I can be pretty spicy too, you know." As if to prove himself, he gave me one last determined look before leaning in to kiss my neck. A long kiss with parted lips that let the tip of his tongue slip out to lap at my skin, making me squirm and gasp.

"Mm, salty…" His low voice near my ear was almost too much for me to handle, I couldn’t stop myself from wiggling underneath him, flustered out of my mind with his excessive attention. My sides were tingling under his massaging hands, warm skin flush against even warmer skin.

“…!”

At the sudden, loud splash that permeated the bedroom, I pulled his wrists from under my silk camisole.

"Did you hear that?" I looked at him in alarm.

"What?" Syo asked, sounding only mildly interested while preoccupied with covering every centimetre of my throat in kisses. The cushion of his soft lips is so pleasurable that it melted away my worry… Well, almost it did until, again, an enormous splash that sounded like someone repeatedly cannonballing into a swimming pool disrupted the mood. However, upon hearing it again, I thought that the crash that came with the unknown volume colliding with the water was too impactful for it to be just a human.

I could tell by the way Syo arched his eyebrow that he heard it as loud and clear as I did. "That's weird… There’s no one on this island ‘cept us. What could possibly be making that kind of noise?" Without even releasing as much as an audible breath, we stared into each other's eyes as if hoping to find the answer there.

"That's what I mean. I'm going to take a look," I said and prepared myself to sneak onto the terrace adjoining our bedroom.

"Really? Right now? If it's anything at all, it's probably just the prez pulling a prank on us, Ellie." Disregarding Syo's pouty lip in protest, I rolled from underneath him and made my way towards the terrace door. From behind me came Syo's mumbled afterthought: "I sure hope that old geezer doesn't have any hidden cameras installed here… I wouldn't put it past him."

It was undeniable that Shining Saotome was infamous for both his extravagant entrances and the extreme and downright dangerous trials he put his idols through. Half-dreading to witness the legend himself crashing on our island in a yellow rubber ducky boat or something similarly ridiculous, I slipped out onto the wooden deck that overlooked the ocean below. A low morning sun made it hard to see at first so I held up my hand to shield my eyes. What I found there slipping between the waves was thankfully not the Shining Agency president but something fantastical beyond my wildest imagination. My jaw dropped, my bare feet rooted to the sun-heated planks.

"Syo, come quick! Look!" I cried out, waving him over like a maniac.

He wasted no time bursting through the door and swivelled his head from left to right to scan the area. "What's up?" I helpfully pointed in the right direction and Syo's eyes lit up as he did a double take. "Whoa!"

A pod of whales was taking turns breaching the water. Their white, streamlined bellies glistened as they hurled themselves into the ocean and filled the air with the same splashing sounds from before. A thin mist of ocean water rained on my arms.

"I’ve never seen a whale before in real life! This is the coolest thing ever!" I thought I'd tear up in happiness at the sight.

"Awesome! Look how huge they are!" Syo marvelled. “It’s beyond me how something that big and powerful still manages to move so smoothly.”

Suddenly unsteady on my feet, I clutched the railing of the balcony as I was overcome with dizziness at the mere sight of the massive creatures ploughing through the ocean like knives through butter… or was the spell caused by the afterglow of his kisses?

Syo eased up behind me, wrapping one arm around my waist and I leaned back into him, grateful to find him supporting me. Like that, we watched in silence. Maybe it was out of respect for the creatures, maybe it was speechlessness due to the sheer majesty of the scene playing out before us, or simply a little bit of both. No matter what, it was for certain that the raw, unfiltered reality of it all outmatched any National Geographic documentary.

Showing a single tail to us one last time as if waving goodbye, the whales dove beneath the waves and travelled onwards to unknown destinations.

"Goodbye!" I called after them, hearing Syo’s chuckle as I waved my arm. Warm, peaceful contentment about the creature that comfortably traversed the ocean without any human interference settled in my stomach. Nothing compared to the breathtaking opportunity of observing a wild animal in its natural habitat, free from any cages or bars.

"Talk about an awesome surprise. I feel like this vacation is only gonna get better and better!" Syo grinned happily when I finally pulled my gaze away from the endless blue stretched out before us, certain that the whales wouldn’t show themselves again.

“I know! I never thought I’d be able to witness something this amazing in my entire life,” I agreed. A light sea breeze tousled our bed heads, inviting us to come play in the shallow. The prospect of a delicious fruit bowl and a swim in the cool water put me right into a good mood. “Let’s go back inside?”

“And… pick up where we left off?” Syo suggested with shameless eagerness that made my cheeks flush. Well, my inner schedule did allow for a little bit of intimate couple time before breakfast… I could hardly deny the excited somersaults my stomach did at the thought. “Look at that adorably embarrassed face you’re making. I wanna see more of you blushing like that,” he teased.

“I swear it’s a sunburn!” Giggling, I willingly let him escort me inside but turned back towards him in the door opening. “You know… I realised that a spicy breakfast doesn’t sound so bad.”

More than anything I wanted to hurl myself into the ocean after admitting something that embarrassing but seeing Syo’s eyebrows arch in surprise made it worth it. Then, as a slight blush spread across his face, a smile settled on his lips. “No worries. I can sweeten it up for you, Princess.”

I didn’t know whether to loudly protest or melt into a puddle at that and instead kind of froze on the spot as Syo gleefully urged us through the door, closing it behind him with a light kick of his heel. Regardless, I knew life couldn’t get any better than the two of us spending time together in our summer paradise for two.

Written by me, for my Prince ♡

[serendipitous-magic]

Any HCs for older (30s/40s) / married byler? :)

Yes! And most of them are blatantly self-indulgent (don’t look too closely at Mike’s career path, I swear it’s not just me projecting), and I’m not even sorry. :) Let’s gooooo!

(Also, note: I took this in a very fluffy domestic direction, so sorry if anybody was really hoping for some NSFW HCs or wedding HCs or something like that - although I might be convinced to expand on that another time. ;) )

-As a young couple in their 20s they lived in a typical shitty apartment near where they went to college, but now as they’re getting more established and their careers are picking up, they’ve moved into something more similar to a townhouse / condominium in the city where they work. They don’t need an entire house, really, and besides, they’re usually not a huge fan of suburbia. If they did have a house, it would probably be one of those small-ish houses near the outskirts of the city - you know the type I mean. Lots of renovation expenses because it’s so old, but unique and cozy enough that it makes up for the hassle. I do tend to picture them in more of a townhouse/condo situation, though.

-Speaking of careers, they both got into something creative. Neither of them at all wanted to work in any type of office environment. Will fought tooth and nail to make a living with his art, which has made for some rough spots financially, but now that they’re getting through their 30s and into their 40s, it seems like it’s finally starting to even out and become more reliable as a source of income. He may do concept art for movie / TV / video game studios, he may do comic illustrations, he may do commissions, maybe a combination. 

-Mike, meanwhile, leaned into his passion for storytelling and his leadership skills - but I feel like Mike would wander in a couple different directions with that. Trying out this path, then this one - less of a cohesive, driven career path than Will’s, just trying things until he landed on something he really liked. Maybe he dabbled in computer engineering in college for a while (see: Mike’s nerdy mini-conversation with Bob about programming languages), decided that wasn’t quite for him, tried some creative writing classes, some film studies. Maybe he was a high school history or language arts teacher for a few years after college, what with his caring and nurturing instincts, his nerdiness, his leadership skills, his passion for stories (LotR, Star Wars, and D&D, anyone?), etc. But that probably wasn’t quite for him. Eventually, after having storytelling hobbies for most of his life, he starts integrating that into his career kind of on accident - and that’s when he hits on what he actually likes doing for a living. He consistently writes short stories on the side and submits them to magazines for publication. Maybe he uses something like commercial writing/directing as a stepping-stone, making heartfelt hit-you-in-the-feels and funny-memorable commercials for shitty instant coffee and cotton tee shirts, and that block on his resume is what gets him into The Business for real. From there it’s small-time TV  studios, sitting in a writers’ room hunched over cold coffee cups, chattering with a table full of other creatives about plot twists that will air on local stations. Or maybe he’s on set, wearing black jeans and a black tee that won’t reflect the light and mess up the shot, flipping through a clipboard of rumpled papers and hustling towards a fast-incoming deadline. Maybe he’s third-in-command on set, right-hand-man to the right-hand-man of the director. Continuity supervisor or art director. Or maybe he’s a practical effects guy, mixing up buckets of sludge or fake blood or figuring out a way to make a plastic-and-foam lobster puppet look alive. In any case, he’s doing something he really enjoys, and he’s steadily moving up in the ranks. Will swears he’s going to be directing blockbusters in Hollywood before they’re fifty; Mike always scoffs at that, laughing it off, but Will isn’t entirely joking.

-They have a medium-sized dog - something with a long snout and a long tail. Will counts himself as a dog person, but for a while there after the fall of ‘84, it was hard for either of them to be around big dogs without remembering the Demodogs. But it’s been decades, and somewhere in their late 30s (when they finally live somewhere with some form of backyard), they finally feel ready to get a puppy.

-Semi-regularly, they group-call the old Party and play D&D over the phone (much like The Adventure Zone). Sometimes one or both of them (Mike or Will) will be trying to do something else in the background at the same time - cooking dinner, working on a piece of art, etc. (Hey, they’re adults, they’re chronically short on time. Gotta multitask where they can.) This leads to occasional bouts of hilarity - like the time Mike almost knocked his entire laptop into a pot of spaghetti sauce because he was trying to DM and cook simultaneously. These over-the-phone D&D sessions are invariable merry and hilarious, cheering everyone up even after the worst of days. The Party is often spread out over the whole country - Mike and Will probably in one of the hubs of the storytelling industry (San Francisco or NYC), Dustin somewhere in the midwest doing scientific field work, Lucas still somewhere in or near Indiana, El and Max living in a new city every other year - but these phone calls bring them all together, and remind them of “simpler” times when they were kids in the Wheelers’ basement.

-Nancy is a highly successful journalist who travels a lot for her work, and whenever she and Mike / Will are in the same city, they make sure to meet up for coffee if not a day or two of old-times sibling shenanigans. Nancy has considered Will like a brother ever since they were teenagers, and that only strengthens as they grow older. But Mike, especially, reverts right back to a fifteen year old whenever his big sister is in town, throwing potato chips at her across the table and teasing her until she chases him with her soup spoon, and the whole time Will is just laughing with his face in his hands, pretending to be embarrassed but really just happy to see the two of them both happy.

-Similar situation with Jonathan. ^^^ He kept up his photography through the years, but like Mike, he’s wandered from career path to career path, just trying things out. (Whether he and Nancy are together depends on your own HCs, but be assured, whenever he’s in town he and Will are just as insufferable as Mike and Nancy.)

-It’s a long time before either (let alone both) of them feel ready to seriously consider kids. They both have a lot to work through after what they went through as kids themselves, and being a parent means being 100% there for someone else’s needs, often at the sacrifice of your own. Not to mention that with both of their creative-based careers, with not nearly as much financial stability as some of their peers, they’ve had some years where supporting just the two of them is a challenge. But eventually, they do get to the point where they start thinking about kids. I think they’d have at least one. Maybe they adopt, maybe they team up with El and Max (depending on how you HC the girls at that point) to do an in vitro deal, it depends.

-They visit Joyce and Hop (who are married) for Christmas. El and Max come home for the holidays, too. Joyce and Hop moved out of Hawkins together after all the kids moved away for college. Not too awfully far from Indiana, but far enough from Hawkins that they could leave the memories behind. Somewhere fairly rural, but not quite small-town. A large town or small-to-mid-size city, maybe, where they have a house with a big backyard and a big front yard and enough combined beds and couches to house all the “kids” over the holidays. 

-Ever since college, they go to Pride every year - most likely along with El and Max, if the four of them can arrange to meet up.

-Mike and Will still tease each other a lot and play-fight and they still tussle for the remote or the last fry, and they still have nerdy posters up in their living room, and they still trust each other more than anything else and they still geek out over their interests together and they still bicker and protect each other and love each other. So, really, not too much has changed since they were teenagers - they’re just in a better (read: much less homophobic) environment, working on their mental health, growing, healing from years-old traumas, doing what they love for a living (after decades of fighting tooth and nail to make it work), spending time with loved ones. Just living life. Taking new risks. Riding the ups and downs together. 

[something-tofightfor]

Drip (Drabble #15)

Pairing:  Logan Delos x Reader

Word Count: 2302

Rating: M (language, zest)

Author’s Note:  This is the same Logan/Reader from HCtS, RWTM and HTM ... they’re still going strong. This actually started as a conversation last weekend between myself, @its-my-little-dumpster-fire and @the-blind-assassin-12 while I was in an ice cream shop called Jeni’s, and was reading the informational poster on the wall. The description of the ice cream was “it starts out hard and then relaxes a little with each sweep of the tongue” ... to which Ms. Dumpster Fire responded with “Delos is making ice cream now?” ... and it went on from there. 

“Lo, it is hot as fuck out here.” You were sprawled out on a deck chair on your patio, wearing a bathing suit and nothing else, hair twisted into a knot on the top of your head. Logan was in the pool, floating around on a chair with most of his body beneath the surface of the water. That water’s too hot. It’s gotta be at least 95 in there. “Loooogan,” you whined, sitting up and squinting at him. “It’s like bathwater in there, how are you even -”

 “At least I’m wet.” His voice carried over to you, hair plastered to the top of his head, sunglasses covering most of his face. “You’re soaked too, but not with pool water, I don’t think I’ve ever seen you sweat this much -” 

 “Don’t say another word, Delos.” You shook your head, using your forearm to swipe at your face and hating that he was right. The entire west coast was dealing with a heatwave, and the power at your house had gone out hours earlier just after breakfast, meaning that even though the house’s backup generator was keeping the refrigerators and freezers as well as some of the basic electricity going, running the air conditioner was out of the question - and since the house was mostly windows, it was like a greenhouse inside. “Can’t we just leave, Logan? Go to a hotel or something and -” 

 “Everything’s out for miles.” He kicked his way over to the edge of the pool, splashing the concrete before resting his elbows on it as he leaned forward on his float, pushing his sunglasses to the top of his head. “C’mere.” Groaning, you did as he asked, waiting until he’d splashed a path for you across the concrete to keep your feet from burning. “Get in the pool with me, come on.” You sat down, hissing as your skin made contact with the barely cooled ground and lowered your legs into the water next to Logan, closing your eyes and shaking your head. “It’s not that hot.” 

 “Lo, I’m pretty sure that the hot tub water is colder than this because it’s been covered and in the shade for the last three days. This is... “ You sighed, looking out over the ocean. “We could go out on the beach, I bet that water is -”

 “Are you crazy? Do you know how hot that goddamn sand is?” Logan had turned his head to the side, resting it on one bicep as he looked up at you. “We’d burn our legs off before we even got to the water.” You’re right. He grinned as you reached over with one hand, pulling his sunglasses off before trailing your fingers through his hair and down over his shoulder, pausing momentarily on the single patch of marred, raised skin on the back of it - the only physical reminder of his trip with William to Westworld.  “Get in here with me and we can float around until …”

 “Til what, Logan? Until the sun goes down? Until we die of heat stroke? Until we boil to death like lobsters? I’m tempted to go and sit in the car and blast the air conditioning.” He laughed, shifting, and though you knew what was coming, you didn’t stop him from pulling you off of the edge of the pool and into the water, both of you disappearing beneath the surface as Logan shoved off of the chair he was on. You surfaced with his hands on your hips, his feet finding purchase on the sloping pool bottom and your heels comfortably on the ledge at the base of the wall, arms around his neck. “Alright, Lo,” you nodded, speaking softly. “It feels nice in here.” He smiled, leaning in and kissing you, grip tightening at your waist as his hips nudged against yours. Know it all. 

--- 

The power came back on at nearly 7 pm - almost ten full hours after it had gone off in the first place, and once you and Logan had showered - both of you using cold water - and Logan had reconnected to the WiFi to set the thermostat to a frosty 64 degrees, he’d dragged you to the car, not even speaking until you were in the driveway. “Don’t ask questions, just get in.” He was wearing a gray t shirt and a pair of black shorts, and you’d been unwilling to put on much more clothing than your bathing suit, do you’d opted for a short, strapless sundress and a pair of sandals, hair again gathered on the top of your head. It was still hot out, but the angle of the sun had shifted, making it bearable to be outside, especially since you knew that you had an air conditioned home to return to. 

 “Where are we going, Logan?” He turned to look at you, his hair blowing gently in the air from the vents. 

 “I’m takin’ you out for ice cream, Mrs. Delos.” He grinned, eyes going back to the road. “I want something sweet, since we haven’t been able to open the refrigerator all day. And by the time we get home, the house will be cold again.” You nodded, settling back against the seat and watching out your window as the waves crashed against the shore. By the time you reached the plaza that Logan turned into, you were grinning - but not for any specific reason. He was taking you out for ice cream, and it was so simple - so normal that you were in disbelief. Not because Logan needed excess in every waking minute of his life, but because he didn’t. Sure, he was prone to displays that made you roll your eyes - the glittering jewelry on your hands was proof of that - but it was the simple moments that truly made you appreciate the man that you’d married multiple times. 

 Stepping out of the car, you looked around the packed parking lot, waiting for Logan to lock the doors before heading to Grom’s entrance, Logan pulling the door open for you. “Thank you,” you whispered as you stepped in, the cold air a welcome change from the stifling outdoors. “Logan, this isn’t even ice cream, it’s -”

 “Gelato. I know.” He stepped behind you in line, arms going around your waist and his chin resting on your shoulder. “Said I wanted something sweet, not something plain.” As you read over the menu, Logan stayed close behind you, though his hands dropped, one finding your right hand and grasping your fingers. As you moved through the line, you heard a few people whispering, your name and Logan’s clearly audible more than once. “Ignore ‘em,” Logan breathed into your ear. “They’re gonna talk - let them talk.” 

 By the time you reached the counter to order, it seemed as if nearly everyone in the shop had looked at you, and while you wanted to believe it was because of who he was, you knew that it was partially because of how Logan looked; effortlessly handsome, even in his mid 30’s, much older than the majority of the other patrons, with messy, unkempt hair and a week’s worth of stubble on his face and neck. You loved him that way, and you knew that others before you had as well, but it still shocked you when you were in small spaces with him just how magnetic he was, how easily he drew attention to himself - and in turn, to you. “Can I take your order?” The young woman behind the counter was speaking to you but staring at your husband, and though you didn’t blame her, you still rolled your eyes, feeling Logan’s posture change slightly next to you as he moved closer, hand gripping your hip through the thin material of the dress you wore. 

 “Yeah, can I get a cup with the pesca and limone sorbets, please?” You paused, thinking. “And can I get some of the biscuits, too?” The girl smiled at you, finally looking away from Logan and nodded, typing in your order after asking for your name. 

 “And I’ll have one of the chocolate cones with stracciatella.” He leaned over the counter, tilting his head to the side. “Make it a double. I’m Logan.” You rolled your eyes but the girl beamed at Logan, nodding her head. He pulled his wallet out to pay, and the girl managed a few words of conversation with him before directing the two of you down to the end of the counter with one finger and another smile at your husband, who dropped the entirety of his change into the tip jar as he pushed you forward. “Gotta flirt to get bigger portions,” he mumbled as you waited, raising one eyebrow at him as you shook your head. 

 “Then I’m going to get a thimble full of sorbet and you’re going to get an entire batch piled on top of your cone, Lo.” He laughed, his arm going around your shoulders and pulling you closer to him, lips pressing against your temple. Since the end of your bet and the increase in speculation by the tabloids, you and Logan had been more affectionate in public than usual, which made him happy. He wasted no opportunity to kiss you and touch you, showing whoever was watching where his attention was, and although he still flirted, there was no weight to his actions. 

 After only a few minutes, a different employee handed you your orders - Logan’s cone at least double the size of yours - and you headed back out the door, since all of the indoor seating was taken. “Wanna sit by the lagoon? I know it’s hot, but at least there’s a breeze.” Logan nodded, his free hand on the small of your back as you crossed the street and the small parking lot, taking seats on the concrete benches. “Thank you, Lo.” You waited until he’d eaten some of his cone, tongue swirling around the heaping scoops of gelato in an attempt to keep it from melting. 

 “No problem.” He turned his head to look at you, a smile on his face as he watched you spoon up your sorbet, mouth back on his own dessert. “Good?” He spoke through a mouthful of gelato, lips turned up in a smile as he waited. You nodded, licking the back of your spoon and shifting closer to Logan. “Can I taste it?” He pointed to your cup, licking his lips and you nodded, readying your spoon. 

 “Yeah, which one? The peach or the -” He cut you off when he pulled you into a kiss, his tongue moving in your mouth as he sought out the taste of your sorbet. Sneaky bastard, you thought as you leaned into the kiss, feeling Logan’s fingers curling around the back of your neck to hold you in place. 

 “Delicious,” he whispered as he pulled back, eyes darker than usual. “Tastes even better on you.” your lips parted without pause as you looked at him, but after only a few seconds, your attention was drawn to Logan’s forearm, where a drip of gelato was working its way toward his elbow. He noticed it when you did, transferring his cone to his left hand and raising the pointed end to his mouth, sucking hard. “Shit.” He mumbled as you giggled, setting your own cup down as you reached out for his arm, wrapping your fingers around his wrist. “Ankyou,” he spoke around the bottom of his cone, still sucking the melted gelato through the small hole. But you didn’t pick up a napkin, instead twisting his arm so that the drip was on the top, lowering your head and sticking your tongue out. He hissed as you licked a path up his arm, collecting the liquid gelato and swallowing. Oh, that’s good. “Fucking stop that.” His voice was low and Logan was holding the cone off to the side, eyes trained on you. 

 “Stop what, Lo?” You looked up at him, not caring that there were other people sitting near you, because when Logan looked at you like he was only a few seconds from tearing your clothes off, you were unable to think straight. “I just wanted to taste you… your gelato.” He closed his eyes, lip curling and took a deep breath, standing. “Lo, whe-” He turned his arm, gripping you tightly and pulled you up too, shaking his head. 

 “We’re going home.” Oh. “Grab that cup and let’s go, because we’re going home and we’re going to continue this.”

 “But it’ll melt, Logan, it’s already…” He stepped forward, tossing his remaining cone and gelato into the trash can before he turned back to you, pointing at the cup that was still half full and sitting on the bench. 

 “I’ll turn the air on in the car and you can hold it in front of the vent. It’s only fifteen minutes.” You laughed, but Logan’s tone was serious. “I want it to melt,” he said simply. “But I want it to melt on you.” Yes, please. “Because…” He bit down on his lip before he spoke again. “You think licking my arm was worth it? You think that kiss was…” He shook his head, gaze moving down your body and then back up. “Think about that, but all over.” You shivered as he leaned in, speaking into your ear. “You’re gonna taste so good.” 

 Within seconds, you and Logan were moving back across the parking lot, the cup of rapidly melting sorbet still in one hand. “Hey, Lo?” You looked over at him as he pulled back onto PCH, his eyes trained on the road in front of him. You were playing with fire and you knew it, but that’s how it had been for the entire three years of your relationship. “You always taste good.” 

---

[firephox]

As a vegan, I’ll assume you use Agave instead of honey, so I will tell you a few things about the farming practices. It takes up massive amounts of land, the entire plant has to be harvested, and at least two endangered species that feed off the plants are killed as pests. That’s not even getting into working conditions for the actual farmers. Regardless of your issues with honey, agave is much worse.

Before I start, I just want to let you know I don’t know how to argue very well and I’m sorry if any of this comes off as rude. I don’t even use agave or honey, all of it tastes so awful. It’s a sensory thing. Not every vegan is the same you know. I honestly could care less about beekeeping. Bee keepers, do your thing, just stop doing shit like squashing queens and tearing their wings off. That’s kind of sad. I’m also vegetarian because I honestly hate the embarrassing ass vegan posters and “I’m not meat” crying animal pictures. (Like come on, we’re all meat, even humans produce taurine in the muscle, meaning we are supposed to be eaten). I am only Vegetarian for my own purposes, because I see the world in black and white, and I’m also autistic. I don’t love animals, I respect them. 

Fair trade is a thing that exists too you know? Meat can’t be fair trade, but fruit/veggies/meat free products can. Also, agriculture takes up 70% of the world’s land, which only 1% is dedicated to plant farming, and you get thousands of pounds worth more in food than animal farming. Also like, Omni diets require more vegetables? You have to feed the animals you eat, thousands of pounds of grain until slaughter age you know right? Vegan diets require less land space, and a lot of vegans are choosing to grow their own vegetables or buy from local growers instead of big grocery stores. All told, farmed animals consume 40% of all grain produced and 70% of all soy produced globally, which means that most crop labor is expended to meet the demands of meat based diets, not vegan ones.I strongly urge you to ONLY buy meat from local or small farms, in order to combat capitalism. Or are you trying to say that I’m not allowed to so my best to save animals, people and the environment because you personally like the spices and flavors put on meats? 

Yes, as with any industry there will be those who are exploited, the same as how you are probably wearing clothing right now that was made with slave labor in a 3rd world country. So, by your logic, unless you have absolutely nothing in your house, fridge, or on you that was made by exploiting workers, you don’t get to talk? See, we’re not all perfect here. Every vegan draws the line somewhere, the same as how you draw the line somewhere too. You complain about exploiting crop workers, but you don’t care about the workers in factory farms that undergo possibly some of the worst and most stressful conditions in the workplace. 

Also, I’m pretty sure growing plants is beneficial to the environment, and like, the toxic waste and blood mixture from factory farms is not? When it has to be dumped back into the environment? There are native and black communities that are being taken over by the pollution from nearby factory farms, and the waterways are being polluted with the toxic run off. Anyone who tries to speak up against the interference is met with legal action or threat. If you are looking to attack plant farming, attack cocaine farming because the harvesting process is actually bad for the environment because of the acid extraction, which then just gets dumped into waterways and land because well, it’s illegal. Also, stacked crop gardens are becoming more popular to save space, as well as rooftop gardening in urban areas. Let me see you try and raise cattle on a rooftop lol. 

What about the wolves, coyotes, and bears that are culled in order to keep livestock safe? You don’t seem to care about those? Sure a few mice are killed when harvesting crops or something, but what is a highly reproductive non threatened mouse population to an endangered, starving predatory species? The wolves, foxes, coyotes, bears, cougars, etc. that get caught in snares on the outskirts of cattle grazing land and are left to die? The farmers that “love animals so much” that they shoot hungry wildlife… for no reason? Also, like I heard that Honeybees aren’t even native to North America. For the 2 endangered species that feed on agave plants, agave is a plant harvested mainly in Mexico and the Nectar feeding Bat has been taken off the endangered list as of April 2018. The Weevil insect is not endangered at all, the Mohave Ground Squirrel is threatened yes, but not only by agave farming, but also by livestock grazing, as well as off highway vehicle use, and pellet gunning. 

Also, tell me more about the working conditions of factory farms, where the majority of the workers are POC, who endure brutal conditions with stressed animals and heavy machinery. They are at great risk for injury, as well as mental health issues like PTSD. The factory farm workers are the ones slicing the necks of the animals, hanging them up, bolting them, separating thousands of male-female chicks a day, tagging them, etc. The workers who are sometimes forced to stand for 10 hours a day, to keep the kill line going, and have been known to urinate on themselves, get injuries and not be able to tend to them, get slammed by a mad cow, get bitten by a pig, etc. The kill line in factory farms has to keep moving, and sometimes the animal moves too suddenly, or the worker just misses, and the animal is left only partially bolted or stunned, and is left fully conscious as they are hooked and sliced. 

Not all factories are the same, some factories don’t even bolt, but instead use scalding baths, electrocution, suffocation, gas chambers, etc. but the many that have had undercover footage have been disgusting. I know people who have visited or worked at some factory farms (I live in farm country) and I have yet to hear about a factory where the animals weren’t treated horribly. A guy I know who worked for a factory witnessed a farmer slam a baby pig against a metal column, wring a chicken’s neck, brand a pig, etc, and then the same farmer go on to be upset about dog eating festivals in China? If there was no problem with factories, there wouldn’t be any reason to argue against them.

Not part of the argument, but I want to include this anyway. Every great movement is has the few that take it too far, and ruin the cause for the rest. For example, Feminism is awesome, but there are some who take it to Feminazi levels, and become man haters and transphobes. Veganism is in itself, supposed to be for health and destroying factory farms, but we have some vegans like PETA, who just put up silly posters outside lobster restaurants and make a fuss, which then ruin the cause. See my point? 

[the-coconut-asado]

Oh Stumptown my Stumptown!

Portland likes to keep it weird. Officially. You could even buy the tee shirt if tee shirts weren’t so predictable.   

From a poster invitation to “Hear my TED Talk about DIY and Impending Doom” to the Big Legrowlski (sic) night club that hangs carpets on the walls -  not to balance the sound for the band but because they really bring the room together -  the City has an off-beat vibe that feels authentic even while it gets you scratching your head. And where else would you queue round the block for a voodoo-doll shaped doughnut with a pretzel stick through its ‘heart’?

You probably won’t be surprised when I tell you that Portland is  the Hipster Capital of the World. You know it’s hipster because it sells more coffee and has more microbreweries per head than anywhere else in the US.

We came for the food because People That Know told us to. It’s not simply that everything is delicious but that chefs, cooks, carts and food enthusiasts are trying to do different. It’s like Masterchef has landed in Twin Peaks. Entrepreneurs are making ice cream out of chickpeas and it works. A pastry chef has re-interpreted her favourite childhood book on a plate and you rejoice in the complex flavours of her tiny reconstructed bunny. So who’s the bunny boiler now?

One thing that puzzled me is why the City changed its name from the original Stumptown (pretty weird) to Portland (the Holiday Inn of city names). Devon, a local lawyer who we chatted to most mornings in Baristas Cafe, explained that Portland was never officially called Stumptown.  It became its nickname due to all the trees they had to cut down to build it, leaving the eponymous stumps in their wake. Stumptown is also the name of their iconic coffee brand, which I always assumed was NYC’s greatest invention. This is one of the many ways in which travel expands your mind.

Devon embodied something else about Portland: its friendliness. Even the passport officers are anxious that you have a good time. Full disclosure,  it wasn’t just Devon that we sought out each morning - it was Pepper, his cute little dog. I would eat Barista’s fresh, flaky rhubarb hand pie just to drop crumbs that Pepper would breakfast on. 

Devon put us onto a couple of great places to eat - one we made it to, one we didn’t. But more of that later.

Where to begin to describe this steel guitar food odyssey? Let me take you through our many highlights from the  mountain of food we consumed. Set it to the soundtrack of Chris Isaak’s Wicked Thing.

Our first evening, tired and hungry, we stuck to our guns and found Andina, the City’s Peruvian eatery. When you are both tired and hungry it’s easy to get seduced by posters boasting ‘Meatball Monday’ and forget your mission, but our persistence paid off. That legendary Portlandia hospitality squeezed us into a nook where there really wasn’t a free table, and we dined greedily on humitas, ceviche, lamb shank and seafood, washed down with Oregon’s finest home-grown Pinot Gris. I didn’t quibble that they brought something different from my order. In my fractured Spanish ‘Arroz con Pato’ probably did sound like ‘Seafood Risotto’  - and the risotto was obviously going to be delicious before fork met lip, so I didn’t send it back.

Next day, which coincidentally was Taco Tuesday, we hit the street food. 

Portland is big on street food (see: hipster capital of the world). Most food vendors have carts - permanent fixtures where the chef builds enough of a following over months or years to be able to open a small restaurant. Nong’s Khao Man Gai was just one of these. They do one dish - a Vietnamese poached chicken with a secret chilli sauce, accompanied by rice cooked in the chicken broth. You can also have a version with shrimp, pork or Tofu. We bought a bottle of the sauce to bring home. Life’s too short.

It’s not all carts - there are a fair few trucks too. 

One which specialised in cheese toasties challenged “ Come and relive the taste of your childhood. But if your childhood sucked, we’ll share the memory of ours”. Have you eaten a cheese toastie recently? I mean really felt the embrace of  a sandwich of molten cheese and fried bread? Maybe your childhood did suck after all.

That evening it was the turn of The Hairy Lobster restaurant, and that bunny dessert I mentioned earlier. Little Bunny Foo Foo to give it it’s full name. A delicate carrot cake, covered in cheesecake mousse, accompanied by a ginger crumb, caramel sauce and a marshmallow rabbit. 

Despite it’s show-stopping appearance and fusion of flavours, it was their roast squash with curry sauce and pumpkin seed praline that was the stand-out dish for me. The Lobster picnic for our main was pretty damn good too.

Friday brings me to Devon’s first recommendation, Pok Pok,  a teeny Thai eatery in the suburbs. Getting there had the added advantage of passing through a neighbourhood full of rambling old houses in the Amityville Horror style. I recalled the first time I had heard of Portland was from a TV thriller full of witches and jabberwocks called Grimm. They had definitely filmed it’s eerily beautiful moments around here.

If I had to single out a food highlight in a week of next-to-no food lows, I would choose Pok Pok. It gave me my first food coma in a long while. Something about it’s smoked aubergine, pork belly curry, marinated chicken with two dips, sublime mango with sticky rice and that rhubarb blush cocktail… I sense I am sharing my food coma with you now. Their signature dish is hot spicy chicken wings. The couple on the table next to us were too full to finish theirs so offered them to us. Maybe it was the wings that tipped me over the edge. I’ll never know.

And so to our last day, and the big daddy of Portland nights out: Jake’s Crawfish. Over 100 years old, walking into Jake’s is like walking into one of Sinatra’s memories. It has a justifiably stellar reputation, and seems to have maintained it for a century. I ate Steel-head trout for the first time, fished on their doorstep from Oregon’s Columbia River, coated with a horseradish crust, and preceded by half a dozen of the plumpest oysters I have ever eaten.

I haven’t yet mentioned Portland’s biggest hipster foodie habit: brunch. No matter what day of the week, the restaurants that brunch are always full. For most of our trip, we were waking up too early to really do brunch justice. Those rhubarb hand pies at Baristas had satisfied our hunger by around 8AM so a mid-morning banquet wasn’t really on. One day, however, we made it to Tasty & Alder in the Pearl DIstrict of the city and managed to sneak in a table for two before the queues built up. Worth it for their Green Frittata with salsa verde (who ever thought of doing that before?) and lightest, fluffiest American biscuits. We never made it to Devon’s second recommendation: Burmasphere, his friend’s Burmese cart on the other side of the river. And now we have an excuse to return.

When it came to rustling up some recipes that take me straight back to Portland weird, I whittled my list down to three: my version of Tasty & Alders’ green frittata with feta and salsa verde; a less labour-intensive version of Andina’s Arroz con Pato, made with chicken or guinea fowl; and in the spirit of weird, though by no means original, a cake inspired by Churros con Chocolate. The best possible end to a Taco Tuesday.

I messaged a friend of mine that had moved to Portland a few years back and asked why she had ever left. “ Too much rain and not enough art.” she said.  

You missed the point Sweetie. Great Food IS great art. And if you can’t stand the rain, get into the kitchen.

Green Frittata with Feta and Salsa Verde

A great little brunchy-lunch dish packed with flavour for the carb-conscious. If you want to add some carbs, slices of toasted sourdough will go down a treat. Serves 4

Ingredients

8 large free-range eggs

1tblspn, double cream

100g asparagus spears, chopped into 2 cm chunks

100g shelled garden peas or petit pois

50g feta cheese

Salt and freshly ground black pepper

For the salsa verde:

Small pack of flat-leaf parsley (around 15-20g)

½ a small pack of mint leaves

3 tbsp. Capers

7 anchovy fillets

1 clove garlic

1 tbsp dijon mustard

8 tbsp extra virgin olive oil

How to make:

Bring a small saucepan of salted water to the boil, then add the peas. After a couple of minutes, add the chopped asparagus and continue simmering for another 2 minutes. Drain and refresh under cold water. Put to one side.

Next, make the salsa verde. Put all the ingredients except the olive oil into a blender, season generously with pepper and go easier on the salt (anchovies and capers are already pretty salty). Then, add the olive oil and blend again. Don’t over blend at each step - it's nice to keep the texture a little rough.

Put a skillet on the stove and melt a knob of butter. Beat the eggs, add the cream and season. Lightly saute the green vegetables in the butter for a minute or two. 

 then pour the eggs over and crumble the feta cheese over the top. Cook for a couple of minutes until the bottom is starting to brown.

 pop under the grill to continue cooking, until the top is a light golden colour and the frittata has firmed up with a slight wobble (keep a close eye on this, probably takes 2-3 minutes).

Cut the frittata into 4 wedges and serve with a dollop of salsa verde on top.

Arroz con Gallina Picante

I never did get to eat Arroz con Pato in Andina, but while I adore the rich flavour of duck, devoting two or three days to confitting it before finishing the dish is only for the dedicated dinner party cook. This version with a spicy chicken and a feta-enriched herb sauce (based on a Melissa Clark recipe)  goes down just as well - or the richer Guinea Fowl, which I have used here. And Peruvian aji amarillo is now more available by mail order - substitute ordinary chile powder if not. Serves 4.

Ingredients:

1 medium-sized chicken or guinea fowl, jointed into 2 breasts, 2 drumsticks and 2 thighs (discard the back or freeze to make stock at a later date)

For the marinade:

6 garlic cloves, crushed

3 tbsp light soy sauce

1 tbsp paste made with aji amarillo powder and olive oil

Juice of 1 lime

1 tsp sriracha sauce

1 tsp. Dijon mustard

2 tsp ground cumin

Salt and freshly ground black pepper

For the sauce:

½ a large bunch coriander leaves, broken up

2 jalapeno chilies, chopped

75g feta cheese, crumbled

1 garlic clove, crushed

Juice of 1-2 limes

2 tsp chopped fresh oregano

½ tsp dijon mustard

½ tbsp aji amarillo paste (see marinade earlier for method)

1 tsp honey

1 tsp ground cumin

½ cup extra virgin olive oil.

For the Peruvian Rice:

3 tbsp sunflower oil

2 cloves garlic, crushed

1 onion, finely chopped

3 heaped tsp aji amarillo paste (see marinade earlier for method)

½ large bunch fresh coriander, broken up and blended till smooth with a tblspn water

500g fresh chicken stock

300g bottle of beer or lager

2 x small green chillies, chopped finely

500g basmati rice

1 red pepper, chopped into small chunks

100g fresh garden peas or petit pois

How to make

First, make the marinade. Mix all the marinade ingredients in a large bowl, cover the fowl of your choice in it, cover with cling film and pop in the fridge for at least 4 hours or overnight.

For the sauce: put all the ingredients into a blender, and blend till smooth. Pour into a bowl, cover and refrigerate, taking out about 15 minutes ahead of eating to bring to room temperature.

For the rice. Heat 2 tbsp oil in a saucepan, add the onion and garlic and saute until starting to turn golden. Add the blended coriander and chili paste  and cook for a couple of minutes until the paste has thickened slightly and smells delicious.

Pour the beer into the saucepan, cook for a few minutes then add the chicken stock. Bring to the boil, season, then take off the heat, cover and put to one side.

Heat the oven to 200C. Pat  the chicken or guinea fowl pieces dry, then pop onto a shallow baking tray, season and drizzle with olive oil. Put the tray into the oven and roast for 35-40 minutes.

While the meat roasts, finish the rice. Heat 2 tbsp oil in a medium sized saucepan, add the peppers and cook for a couple of minutes. Then add the rice and stir into the oil and peppers until it starts to crackle a little at the bottom. Add the peas and chilies and stir again, then add the stock, beer and onion garlic mix. Stir, season if needed, then cover and simmer on a low heat for 25 mins.

Fluff up the rice and spoon onto plates. Top with the chicken or guinea fowl pieces, and crown with a dollop of sauce.

Churros Bundt Cake with Dipping Chocolate Sauce

I love churros, and I love a Bundt cake. If you want all the flavours but none of the faffing or frying, then give this a try. The cake will keep, covered in a tin. Just remember to reheat the chocolate sauce for dipping or pouring each time. Serves 8-10

Ingredients:

For the cake:

2 ¾ cups plain flour

2 tsp. Baking powder

2 tsp ground cinnamon

½ tsp. Salt

170g unsalted butter

130g caster sugar

50g soft brown sugar

4 large eggs

1 egg yolk

1 375g punnet of sour cream

2 tsp. Vanilla extract

For the cinnamon sugar ‘glaze’

2 tsp ground cinnamon

4 tsp caster sugar

For the chocolate sauce:

½ cup cocoa powder

Pinch chilli flakes

100g dark chocolate (70%)

1 cup double cream

½ cup dark brown sugar

1 tsp vanilla extract

½ tsp cinnamon

How to make

Preheat the oven to 160C. Grease and flour a large bundt cake pan (make sure to get into all the nooks and crannies).

Beat the butter and sugar in a mixing bowl (ideally using an electric stand mixer) until light and fluffy. Add the eggs one by one and continue to mix between each addition, finishing with the egg yolk. Add the sour cream and vanilla extract and beat again until just incorporated.  Mix all the dry ingredients, add them to the butter and egg mix and fold in until smooth. 

Pour the cake batter into the bundt tin and bake for around 50-55 minutes until a skewer inserted near the middle comes out clean (I usually check the cake after 45 mins). Invert the cake onto a rack to cool.

Mix the remaining sugar and cinnamon in a small bowl. Melt the butter and paint all over the surface of the cake. Dust the cinnamon sugar over the buttered cake, making sure you pat it in places to stick.

To make the chocolate sauce. Pop all the ingredients into a saucepan, then cook, stirring constantly, on a low heat until the chocolate has melted, everything is smooth and custardy. Let it bubble slightly then turn off the heat.

Serve slices of the churros cake with warm chocolate sauce poured over. There are some who prefer their chocolate sauce served cold. That’s fine too.

[baldysims]

Strange Legacy 3.2

“Hey bro, how was college? Still have all your skills maxed?”

“Oh, Di, it was amazing! You wouldn’t believ--”

“Hang on, I just realized it’s the middle of the day and I somehow failed to get in my coffin and am about to die from sunlight exposure yet again. Hold that thought.”

“But--!”

“We’ll talk about skilling laterrrrrrr! Hissssssss!”

Third generation heir Fornax has returned to the legacy lot and been reunited with his parents and older-but-perpetually-teenaged sister, Diadem. The main household got played a bit while the rest of the kids were at college so I could troubleshoot the whole teen vampire thing with fewer distractions.

It turns out teen vamps are hard, but not that bad when you build them a garage full of snapdragons and give them a fancy sports car to shield them from the sun’s harsh rays on their way to and from school... at least when certain other people aren’t hogging the coffin. *coughCASSIEcough*

Yep, Cassie’s back home too. Why? Well, I wanted a platinum grilled cheese grave for the lot, but I also really didn’t feel like making another Sim eat 200 sandwiches. Sue me.

It’ll be nice to have an extra set of hands around to raise generation 4, though, especially since I’m sure I’ll be pretty distracted a lot of the time with keeping Di alive... in a manner of speaking.

Generation 4 will be here very soon, since Fornax took less than a day to fulfill his lifelong (or at least last-two-years-of-college-long) dream of becoming a rock star. Not bad for a former nerd who never even made out with a girl until after he’d already graduated.

Fornax’s wedding to Danni, the sexy heroic firefighter of his dreams, was thoughtfully held at night so that all members of the Strange family could attend, both living and dead.

Unfortunately this included some family members who probably shouldn’t have been invited, like Uncle Alpheratz.

Ever a man of class, he couldn’t even wait until the reception was over to start trash talking the groom. It’s extra gross when you realize that the woman he’s talking to is his daughter Cursa, who you might remember along with her sister Bellatrix as the tearful, brokenhearted children from the last family wedding Alpheratz ruined.

What have Bells and Cursa been up to since we saw them last, anyway?

Well, Bellatrix married the love of her life, Tybalt Capulet, and became a business tycoon in the family company. She’s angling to get her son, Lucius, named the heir to the Capulet fortune, but I doubt that’ll happen given how matriarchal the Capulets are. Still, she tries. I guess you can take the girl out of the patriarchy, but you can’t take the patriarchy out of the girl.

Cursa moved into Capulet Manor alongside her sister, and immediately began a scandalous May-December romance with Tybalt’s grandfather, Consort. No one in the family has told Betelgeuse about their affair, and for good reason. Bete was raised to believe every Sim in the family must abide by the Strict Family Values and True Love handicaps, regardless of whether they were raised in the main household or not. The knowledge would only hurt him, and clearly, he’s happy in his blissful ignorance.

Bete also doesn’t know that his youngest daughter, Electra, is also keeping certain aspects of her life as a spare a secret from him.

Sure, she locked down a True Love in her college years and married him as soon as humanly possible, just like her parents always dreamed, but given that she and Freddy are a couple of video game-obsessed slackers who can barely put down the handhelds to feed themselves, much less raise a child, I decided to let them embrace the wonders of modern birth control.

And so it seems that Betelgeuse and Angeline’s only grandchildren will be through Fornax and Danni. Speaking of whom, let’s get back to their wedding; I think we’ve gone on more than enough spare-related tangents for one chapter.

Danni Strange, former last name unknown, is a knowledge Sim and former firefighter who is truly, madly, deeply in love with her dork of a husband. She saved his life back in college and the sparks, so to speak, were instant.

Danni’s very well liked by the rest of the Stranges. Cassie used to be the sole holdout, but now that Danni is officially part of the family, she seems to have come around.

It’s shaping up to be a very wholesome generation.

Danni got pregnant right away, and spent the majority of her pregnancy working on maximizing all her skills. She’ll need them, because I want to get the collection point for having all the career rewards this generation.

Danni was game, and dedicated herself so thoroughly to this task that she even gave birth with her skilling hat on.

Little Gomeisa here turned out to be a girl, which gave Betelgeuse a little anxiety. He himself took four tries to have a boy with his wife Angeline, and they ended up cutting it pretty close age-wise. He doesn’t want that stress for his own son, so he urges his son to try for more grandchildren as soon as possible.

Fortunately, that’s not a problem for Fornax and Danni. Their chemistry is through the roof and they basically go at it like rabbits constantly, so it wasn’t long before Danni gave birth to another girl, Hamal.

This did not relieve Betelgeuse’s concerns.

“Son, you realize that only boys can inherit the legacy heirship, right? You have to have at least one, and really, two is best.”

“You think I don’t know that, dad?”

“Of course not, Fornax, but I want to talk you through some of the implications. The only way it’s mathematically possible for you to have an heir and a spare is to have at least two more children.”

“So? That’s fine. I mean, sure, I’m not a Family Sim like you or grandpa, but I’m permaplat and Danni’s definitely up for it.“

“The problem, son, is that there are already seven people in this house. Di can’t move out until your mother and I die, which we’re nowhere close to, and Cassie can’t leave or we lose the grilled cheese grave. Essentially, you’ve only got one more chance to get a boy... and I hope you’ll agree that we should maximize it.”

That’s right, it’s cheesecake time! Betelgeuse himself was a cheesecake twin, so of course he’s aware of this classic legacy strategy.

I actually hate having twins, especially during the toddler years, but Betelgeuse is right -- it only makes sense to double the chance of getting an heir before it’s too late.

And so Danni went through a third, much more difficult pregnancy, while the rest of the household worked as hard as they could on various miscellaneous legacy milestones.

Cassie spent a lot of time tediously job-hopping for various career rewards, and also painted the next generation of Strange family portraits. She herself won’t have an official portrait as a spare, but I thought it would be nice to let her memorialize herself for posterity with a grilled cheese masterpiece.

Betelgeuse finished his memoirs, as demanded by the Storyteller handicap.

He also spent some genie wishes bulking up the family fortune. The Stranges don’t really need money for money’s sake, since they’re already swimming in filthy lucre, but in order to get maximum points they'll need $3,000,000 by generation nine, so every simoleon counts.

Diadem earned all of her point-based scholarships as well as an impossible want point by maximizing her skills. Now that she’s free most nights, she spends a lot of time acting as her nieces’ night nanny.

“Glowing skill milk for Gomeisa! Hissssssssss!“

Unfortunately, I realized too late that I made a big mistake by maximizing Di’s skills as quickly as I did. She’s knowledge, so now that she doesn’t have anything left to learn, the only real big-ticket wants she can satisfy are being scared by ghosts... and ours aren’t exactly cooperative.

“Grandma, scare me! Bleh!”

Grandma Sharon would never, Di. She’s too nice. Sorry. You’ll have to wait for Grandpa Zaniah... and for some reason the only time he ever came out to haunt was to scare your mother during her last pregnancy. Jerk.

Di also tends to get lured by the siren call of the career reward collection, which I foolishly stored out of sight in the backyard. Pretty much every morning I lose track of her until I realize from her red icon that she’s been roasting in the sun.

“You can’t blame me for wanting to live on the edge! It’s what teenagers do! And I’ve been a teenager for decades now.”

Yeah, fair enough.

Finally, the twins come along... and it’s two more statistically improbable girls, Ilkil and Jishui. I was so upset by this revelation that I completely failed to take a decent birth photo. I mean... ugh. The house is as full as full gets, but no one can really go anywhere until either the girls grow up and go to college, or I decide to kill Betelgeuse or Angeline. I really don’t want to have to deal with annoying non-Old Age ghosts this early in the legacy... so that means I’m stuck raising four girls while Fornax and Danni’s adult lifespans get shorter and shorter, unable to be lengthened even by Elixir of Life due to yet more legacy handicaps.

That’s right, little spare, grow up! Grow up in your pajamas with no party and no cake. With all 4+ of you little monsters running around, it’s not like birthdays are going to be anything special around here.

It goes without saying that the whole house is basically living off of cheesecake right now. Betelgeuse made a lot. Just in case.

The sole exception to cheesecake for dinner is when the headmaster comes over for lobster, but even then, Angeline objects.

“Fornax, you don’t need to go to such lengths. Just let me fix BJ a few drinks! We go way back, you know.”

I was pretty sure that was the booze talking, but then this happened:

Well, I’ll be damned! I guess booze really does beat out a home cooked meal. I’ll keep that in mind for my next dinner party.

“Aunt Di, why do me and Hamal have to go to private school and study so hard just to start college early? That sounds boring.”

“Gogo, I’m going to lay some truth on you. Private school is the best thing in life. I mean that, literally. The only joy I get in life anymore is from the occasional report card that barely keeps me out of aspiration failure. Hissssssss!”

Yeah, I think Diadem might be depressed.

To cheer her up, I sent her on a date -- the good, expensive kind, not the Aunt Electra “Just take my $25 so I can get a memory token” kind. The matchmaker conjured up Adam, a store clerk who’s been selling the Stranges clothing and groceries since the dawn of the legacy.

Diadem couldn’t get enough of him. He seemed genuinely fascinated by her stories of being abducted by aliens back before getting vamped, and for once in her life since maximizing her skills, Di felt... passion.

Of course, love in a knowledge Sim vampire tends to express itself in a rather, um, aggressive way, and, well... I just couldn’t resist the aspiration bonus.

Sorry, Adam. I'll try not to burn you to a crisp when the Stranges visit community lots during the day from now on.

After claiming him as a creature of the night, Di claimed her first kiss, just as the sun came up. Away with you into your coffins! Bleh!

Oh, Angeline. Booze for dinner with the headmaster, and now booze first thing in the morning? I get that you picked up certain habits from your mother in law, but did you have to pull Fornax in on the day drinking? He’s been so functional up til now!

“I resent that. I day drink purely out of my own free will, just like you would if you knew you’d be changing diapers until retirement age.”

Sigh... fair enough.

In other news, Cassie continues to pursue various careers in search of all 20+ career rewards. Most of the time I just nab them from the newspaper so she automatically grabs them, but sometimes I let her go all the way to the top.

Something about the sweet mad scientist robot hand just seems right for her, you know?

Anyway, we’re about halfway there as far as the career rewards go. I decided I was sick of them cluttering up my view of the lawn (the Stranges are trashy for sure, but like, rich trashy, not furniture-on-the-lawn trashy), not to mention almost killing Di every morning, so I resolved to spruce the place up with a mausoleum/career reward storage facility. And a greenhouse, because hey, why not go for that extra Seasons point?

We already have most of the fish thanks to Angeline, which is the hard part, so really all that’s left is the wishing well and a few juices. Might as well, right?

“Grandma, why can’t you play red hands with me?”

“Well, Hamal, you’ve got to be a good girl and study for when you become a teenager. And I’ve got to spend all day fishing so that I can get red and pass out on the lawn over and over!”

And so she did! Here, have an ugly photo of the upstairs hall proving that Angeline nabbed us every kind of fish.

And not a moment too soon, because as soon as the first leaves began to show on the crops in the greenhouse, Angeline received a ghostly final visitor.

R.I.P. Angeline Strange, former cute teen downtownie, wife and mother of four, Sim City General Chief of Staff and lifelong alcoholic. You were many things, but most of all fun to play, and I’ll miss you.

Poor Bete. Family Sims take the death of a spouse extra hard, so I was expecting this, but it’s still sad. Especially when his morbid vampire daughter discusses it so bluntly over a game of pool that very night.

I don’t mean to imply that Di didn’t care about her mother’s death. She did, of course! She was probably even closer to Angeline than Betelgeuse was. But Knowledge Sims show it in a different way.

And so Angeline was laid to rest in the upper floor of the mausoleum, where Sharon was already haunting in welcome. Hopefully she’ll have some company soon.

Life went on for the rest of the family, with Betelgeuse still hellbent on getting a grandson out of Danni and Fornax.

Yeah, yeah, she already promised to have more kids once you’re dead, Bete! Give it a (final) rest already!

“Aunt Cassie, do I have to die to get a brother too?”

“No, Gogo, of course not. You’ll just go to college, that’s all. We’re not killing anyone on purpose in this legacy until at least generation 7.”

I’m sure Gomeisa was very comforted to hear that.

In protest, she rolled Romance on her teen birthday, but just like Cassie last generation, I don’t think it suits her.

She is ridiculously uninterested in all the men she meets.

She’d much rather hang out with her younger sisters, especially Hamal, who’s about to join her in teenhood.

Now, I’m not a total monster, of course I let Gomeisa have a first kiss before I sent her off to college. The last thing I want is to force Fornax’s children to relive his grisly fate as an inexperienced child in college. Plus the wishing well we got from joining the garden club makes it so easy, how could I not?

Hmm, Loren Teens, not bad, not bad. Technically he’s part of yet another matriarchal Maxis family, the Tricous, but the Tricou matriarchs are all dead and Loren is ultimately just a descendant of one of the men who married in, so I don’t think Betelgeuse would necessarily object.

Especially since it’s finally his deathday.

R.I.P. Betelgeuse Strange. You did everything you could to continue your father’s legacy, even when you probably shouldn’t have, but I respect the effort. I hope you have fun whaling on Alpheratz in the afterlife.

With Betelgeuse finally dead and gone, Fornax and Danni were free to try for babies #5 and #6. Yes, I’m doubling up again, and if I get two more girls, I’m going to scream. I’m not even sure Danni will be young enough to carry another pregnancy if that happens. But hey, at least this picture of them cuddling under the stars is cute. I like to think they’re planning their babies’ names when they do this, since everyone in the family is named after either a star or a constellation.

Just like big sis Gomeisa, Hamal rolled Romance on her birthday and summoned a Tricou kid, this time Loren’s brother Tiave, from the wishing well for her first kiss. The girls in this family really seem to enjoy flirting with matriarchy.

Right after Hamal hit him and quit him, Zaniah popped out to scare her. I don’t think the old hypocrite approves of his great-granddaughters rolling Romance or dating Tricous.

With Gomeisa and Hamal’s first kisses obtained and generation two finally laid to rest, Diadem was able to nab her last scholarship and get shipped off to college with her nieces. I’m sure they’ll have a blast there while I head back to the home lot and pray to Wright for an heir who STILL hasn’t been born and (hopefully) play him all the way to teendom and young adulthood. Sigh.

Legacy Scoring:

Legacy: 3 Money: 2 Family friends: 38x.25 = 9.25 Impossible wants: 9 (Alph 20L, Sharon 30F, Zaniah 7Sk, Angeline 7Sk, Fornax 7Sk,  Cassiopeia 200S, Electra 50FD, Diadem 7Sk) Platinum graves: 4 (Family, Popularity, Fortune) Ghosts: 1 (Old Age) Business: 4 Seasons: 2 Free Time: 4.5 (Games: Zaniah, Betelgeuse, Alpheratz, Electra, Fornax, Cassiopeia, Angeline) Collections: 1 (25 Elixirs) Master: 2 (Social Bunnies Need Love Too, Child Prodigy - Fornax, ) Handicaps: 0 Overflow: Penalties: -1 (bills) Total: 38.85

[therj]

El jugador camara sony cybershot dsc w810 de El Masnou anot 1 de 5 tiros de campo

Ellos no le quieren gotcha karkötőy no le van a dejar jugar en ningun sitio. Me parece una bajeza muy grande, y no entiendo que ganan ellos con esto. Lo unico que hizo Biyombo fue ir al Nike Hoop Summit ya que era una excelentisima oportunidad para el, y por eso salio tan arriba en el Draft. Rubio nunca encontr su sitio en

pantofi sport cu scai barbati

el campo y adem se carg enseguida de personales por lo que al final el entrenador de los Timberwolves, Sam Mitchell, solo le dio 21 minutos de acci en los que anot dos puntos. El jugador camara sony cybershot dsc w810 de El Masnou anot 1 de 5 tiros de campo, fall el intento que hizo de triple, y no zattini promoção de botas fue a la l de personal. Rubio captur cuatro rebotes, incluido tres defensivos, reparti tres asistencias, jean coquelin perdi dos balones y cometi cuatro falta personales.. Where they are now: Red Lobster is in the most trouble pantaloni elisabetta franchi saldi in terms of fast casual dining establishments. In December, parent company Darden Restaurants announced that it had intentions to sell Red Lobster or spin it off into its own company. However, Starboard, a big investor in Darden Restaurants, announced that they feel the company's decision to sell or spin off Red Lobster wasn't a good idea. Es como al que le gusta el juego del madrid o no. Pues yo veo muy parecidos el juego del madrid y el de miami. (hablo del madrid de futbol) , creo q Miami ha demostrado q es un gran equipo, pero los Celtics si viste los últimos 3 partidos cayeron con el orgullo bien alto, luchando hasta el final todos los encuentros demostrando una vez mas los cohones q tienen, el comentario q desacreditas es desacertado pero el tuyo no se queda diadora focicipő corto.. Fue horrible. Hoy lo recordamos con risas pero vaya tela. Música alta todo el rato, luces encendidas, sillas incómodas. Después de dejar huella en el All Star, el siguiente reto podría ser encontrarse en una final de la NBA. Los dos coinciden en que es difícil pero posible, por la calidad de sus dos equipos. En cualquier caso, prefieren disfrutar primero de este momento, que les invita a mirar hacia atrás. NERLENS NOEL: Sin duda iré a comprar algo bonito a mi madre, después intentaré ser conservador y pondré en el banco el dinero. Estoy trabajando en algunas ideas al respecto. MCCOLLUM: Contrataré un chef para que venga a mi casa. De hecho, yo estaba por la cancha cuando escuché a algunos jugadores hablar de que había que tapar a Ellis. La jugada de buscar a Monta la hicimos bastantes veces. Pero yo sabía que teníamos una segunda opción, aunque con 1.7 segundos de margen no haya muchas. Es mas he jugado con mujeres de nivel NCAA division I que botan mejor que yo y con mejor tiro que yo. Pero la diferencia de altura y fuersa es mucha. Si las dejas solas meten canasta tras canasta pero las defiendes bien y todo cambia. Curry is the dude for this time and vans ginissplace. He's a common man in size (6 feet 3, 180 pounds) and appearance yet anything but in quickness, dribbling skill, shooting ability and basketball creativity. His marvels are best celebrated in six second bursts you can loop over and over again; mere freeze frames do them no justice, no matter how big the poster paper.. Su pequea lesión en el gemelo derecho está olvidada. Muy especial jugar contra ellos en mi primer partido serio. A ver quién empieza mejor el encuentro 653 en la carrera del extremeo, una cifra notable, quizá sin el reconocimiento que mereciera. Es como si pudiera pedir a un deseo a un genio. Así que estoy muy agradecido por tener esta oportunidad y estar aquí. No puedo estar más que orgulloso de mis compaeros, de los técnicos y del trabajo que hemos hecho esta noche, en la temporada y en los 'play offs'", comentó Gasol tras el encuentro.. No entiendo por qué dejas de dormir por algo tan nimio y sin sentido. Cuál es el propósito de todo esto? Tú también afirmas que el contrato de Rubio es tóxico

riduzione dvi hdmi amazon

por los datos de un mes de ese contrato? Un mes en el que ha estado lesionado? Lo digo y lo repetiré hasta la saciedad. Me gusta el perfil de RR como base. Nadie les impide formar su propia liga a los jugadores, buscar sus patrocinadores, alquilar estadios y organizarse. O irse a jugar a Europa. El salary cap? Cuantos están cobrando el máximo? Xq un salario mínimo hay en todas partes. Did we just witness how Conor McGregor beats Mayweather?We saw Manny Pacquiao age in the ring Saturday night. We saw the legs lose their mobility as a younger, more aggressive opponent roughed him up with head butts and headlocks. And when the decision was announced, the world was shocked as the underdog had his hand raised in victory. El reserva Jerry Bayless anotó 19 puntos y encabezó el ataque de los Bucks, que se impusieron 100 115 a los Magic, y rompieron una racha de 17 derrotas seguidas en Orlando. Junto a Bayless otros seis jugadores lograron números de dos dígitos, incluidos Jared Dudley y Kris Middleton que llegaron a los 17 tantos cada uno. Victor Oladipo encabezó el ataque de los Magic al conseguir 21 puntos y una lista de cinco jugadores que obtuvieron números de dos dígitos, pero no impidió que su equipo perdiese

nike air max 102 essential white

el séptimo partido consecutivo. He visto el video suyo de draftexpress. Yo fuera de los top veo jugadores rondando el lottery pick como Rodney Hood o James Young que pueden arreglar el puesto de alero a equipos como Minnesota o NOLA (que en principio no tiene pick). Nos vendieron la moto como la mejor desde 2003 y no llega a 2008 9 1 veremos en que queda, pero a este le falta carácter por los cuatro costados. Two years later, Jason Pierre Paul has come a long wayTwo years ago today, Giants defensive end Jason Pierre Paul started the day with a van full of fireworks. The stunning news of the Pierre Paul fireworks mishap led to a variety of story lines, from a stubborn resolve to return to dominance (he has) to a lawsuit against ESPN and Adam Schefter for invasion of privacy arising from the publication of medical records relating to the amputation procedure (the case was settled). Although Pierre Paul, who was operating under the franchise tag in 2015, lost millions due to his inability to play for much of the year, a one year deal for 2016 coupled with a strong performance last season led to another franchise tag and, eventually, a four year, $62 million deal..

[bbgunsffio932-blog]

Watch Out: How airguns for sale in elgin Is Taking Over and What to Do About It

FLANKED by adverts for cognac and aspirin, a peregrine falcon perched with a stump from the autumnal woods glared at me from the subway car or truck poster.

The intense, wonderful fowl was a reminder to New Yorkers that they may assist falcons along with other nongame birds and animals by collaborating inside the condition's ''Return a present to Wildlife'' software, one that in a few many years in The big apple Condition has elevated in excess of $5 million.

Some several hours just before encountering the falcon's glittering eye over the Seventh Avenue Convey to Brooklyn, I had chatted with People whose things to do in New York City are paid out for with the gift to wildlife prepare, and that is funded by voluntary taxpayer contributions. We achieved at the entire world Trade Heart, where by the workers of Location two with the state's Division of Environmental Conservation is housed. Two uniformed conservation officers, Thomas Graham and Francis Jarvis, protected the desk just before us with a variety of objects, like an ivory tusk with scrimshaw, the skins of alligators and wolves, a comb and bracelets comprised of the shell of the hawksbill turtle, shoes fashioned within the skin of the kangaroo, a leopard-pores and skin pillow, a tiger skin and a cowboy boot, the decreased 50 percent of which can be rhinoceros conceal. https://www.pinterest.com/myairguns All were confiscated, usually at retail suppliers, since targeted visitors in them violates condition regulation.

The obligations of the legislation-enforcement personnel in Region two, which includes town's five boroughs, bear little resemblance to Those people of The everyday up-country conservation officer, A significant distinction getting their function in guarding towards environmental degradation, whether or not unlawful intrusions on wetlands, air pollution or transportation or disposal of hazardous wastes. They are doing carry out extra regular tasks, however. Throughout the upstate deer hunting seasons they've nabbed hunters returning to town with illegally tagged deer; they patrol the Hudson and East rivers making sure that anglers are obeying striped-bass restrictions, they usually instruct hunter basic safety and conservation courses.

In addition they routinely Check out wholesale and retail seafood retailers for undersized fish, shellfish or lobsters, and strive to end all harvesting of shellfish from contaminated waters.

While Location two is geographically the smallest of your Conservation Department's 9 districts, it embraces about forty one for each cent of the point out's populace, or about one million persons for each conservation officer, according to Capt. Dennis O'Reilly, its law-enforcement chief.

Besides an officer assigned to each borough, you'll find a few Adult males, Officers Graham and Jarvis, and Lieut. Richard Malin, whose actions are funded fully through the present to wildlife plan. Most of the town is their bailiwick as well as their key problem is protecting endangered and nongame species. Lieutenant Malin can even before long have two added officers, one in Buffalo, one other in Plattsburgh, for the reason that equally areas are doable ports of entry for endangered species or goods made from them.

Prior to the nongame wildlife application began, constrained focus was paid to endangered and nongame species and what had been performed was often criticized by sportsmen who, Captain O'Reilly claims, ''had a authentic grievance in that they were carrying -by license charges and excise taxes - the expense of shielding equally activity and nongame species.''

Not all of the goods seized by conservation officers have turned up in retail suppliers. The wolf skins ended up delivered by using mail from Mongolia to A non-public citizen in town and Captain O'Reilly's Business office was tipped off by Federal brokers. The state lists additional endangered species than does the Federal Government, and the wolves concerned were not shielded by Federal legislation.

Enforcement of conservation legislation in a huge city poses quite a few Particular issues. There are actually, as an example, thousands of leather-goods shops in Big apple. Captain O'Reilly hopes that by sheer persistence his team will finally convince keep proprietors that they cannot offer in products and solutions produced from endangered species. This is often starting to happen, he claims, and notes that two of the town's major auction homes consistently consult his Business office about if the sale of specific merchandise could be unlawful.

The Division's objectives have to even be manufactured crystal clear to the public. The point out's restoration plan for the peregrine falcon is paid for by the reward to wildlife fund, along with the Verrazano Narrows and Throgs Neck bridges have been, considering the fact that 1983, nesting web pages for 2 in the state's four acknowledged mating pairs of those birds. The bridges are person-built approximations with the all-natural higher-cliff nesting web sites of your birds and There is certainly an abundance of prey for them, including pigeons.

Although the presence within town restrictions of a chicken that is certainly an endangered species in the course of the United States could possibly logically seem to be a trigger for rejoicing by all, the department was taken to job for its attempts on the falcon's behalf by a girl who feared for your welfare of your pigeons. Wild pigeons - this does not consist of People saved by pigeon-racing buffs - are certainly not secured in town, While, due to the fact all looking is banned, they might not be shot, even with an airgun.

The powerful level of human exercise also militates from specified forms of surveillance that are doable elsewhere. Abutting Kennedy Airport, Jamaica Bay is without doubt one of the nation's most unusual wildlife refuges. In excess of 300 species of songbirds, shorebirds, ducks, geese, egrets, herons and raptors, like ospreys, are sighted there. Its base is pretty much paved with difficult clams, which, however, are unfit for human intake as a result of pollution. Occasional helicopter patrols of the bay might be useful, but that has proved impractical, says Captain O'Reilly, due to the issues in getting brief authorization to violate the airport's technique zones.

Captain O'Reilly's officers have experienced to acquire a considerable diploma of savvy in recognizing several hides and pelts, and there are actually situations when People goods need to be taken to gurus, including museum curators, and even They might be stumped Should the samples are much too little. A Ny city leather-based-merchandise keep requirements a allow to market nearly anything produced from alligator and crocodile skins, although the species associated usually are not safeguarded.

''It is actually outstanding what men and women will pay for something made out of an endangered species,'' Captain O'Reilly explained. ''A person alligator-hide handbag we seized had a rate tag of $3,000.''

[intorflowers]

new tattoo - based off The Lobster film poster

[allbeendonebefore]

Which cities do you think could survive the apocalypse

not toronto, its gone, theres no more toronto. it was a snow based apocalypse. they’re done. it was nice but now there is anarchy because now the cn tower can no longer function as the Lightning Rod of All of Canada’s hatred. Lucas Wilson, thankfully, was rescued last minute by his real alien parents from outer space who knew this whole kerfuffle was coming; he managed to escape the planet with several Canadian Tire bills, some roll up the rim tabs he had been saving for a special occasion, miscellaneous paperclips and coffee mugs stolen from the office, a lifesize poster of himself, his pet raccoon named chip, and the mythical chalice of lord stanley.

some intrepid saskatchewanians band together, Stoon and Regina set aside their differences and build a Roughriders themed bunker which they call Diefenbunker 2.0 and they return to a socialist, agriculture based economy while stockpiling and fiercely guarding their potash. Anyone who tries to breach the perimeter will be spotted 3 days away and football tackled to the ground. The last haven of universal healthcare is here, but only if you cheer for the right team.

Winnipeg, having learned nothing from the Great Floods of the 1950s and the 1990s, drifts away. Selkirk thrives (and by thriving i mean there seem to be still people there who haven’t been flooded out, so compared to winnipeg it is thriving.) Honestly, people are still questioning why Winnipeg was even where it was in the first place. After a while she stops drifting, hikes inland for a bit, and resettles somewhere completely different. With territories in dispute, she once again claims Rat Portage for the non-existent political entity of Manitoba just ‘cause.

Halifax quickly takes advantage of their archaic battle fortresses and offers shelter to all Maritime provinces- sadly the latest shipment of PEI potatoes  is trapped in ice and everyone starves because of the crap agricultural land around Halifax. There are only so many blueberries to go around and the competition for lobster remains fierce. Meanwhile, St. John’s presumably sits on the edge of the rock waiting, watching for the cod to be replenished. Also there’s probably a bad snowstorm but they don’t notice even though its like july or something.

Quebec City is well prepared, perhaps surprisingly, for the apocalypse. Despite their abundance of well built log shelters, buff lumberjacks, and carefully guarded supplies of maple syrup (because they’re not letting That happen again), something is amiss. Preparations are made to turn the Chateau Frontenac into a shelter for refugees from Montreal but sadly Samuel was too late to save him- the island sunk into the St Lawrence like Atlantis because no one could agree on the language laws required to efficiently evacuate. The sandbags required for the oncoming flood had also been mysteriously destroyed only days prior, and the budget for the evacuation - mysteriously 3 times the specified amount - disappeared with a certain number of crime families. A funeral was held for Etienne M. Maisonneuve at what was estimated to be the former site of the Bell Centre. Efforts were made to find Lord Stanley’s cup for the event, but in vain.

There is a forecast in Vancouver and Victoria for high winds, high tides, and 20 cm of snow. No one survives. Victoria laughs with her dying breath- she sprawls protectively over her prized begonias and english roses, dead deer surrounding the perimeter of her garden. It begins to snow. Vancouver, contemplating having to live on the other side of the mountains, concludes falling into the ocean is preferable.

Calgary is a desolate wasteland. Their new arena, finally coerced out of tax payers by like 5 separate billionaires, drifts down the engorged Bow river past the sagging yet noble remains of the Saddledome. While the downtown core is a ghost town, it’s not really that surprising because the entire population pretty much started abandoning it in droves in like 2015 when oil crashed so really it was only a matter of time - Calvin B. McCall did what he does best in an economic crisis and had already made tracks to mooch off the economic diversity of his rival to the north…

Stumbling onto main street Yellowknife, the stranger falls into a local coffee shop and is brought to his feet by his bolo-tied pardner slash nemesis. He finds Whitehorse and Iqaluit having brunch with their host, and the three blink in mild shock at the poor condition the hiker is in. “Oh, hey Ed, hi Cal, grab a chair.” Yellowknife waves them over. 

“Terrible, it’s absolutely terrible.” Ed’s fingers shake around his coffee, the Gateway to the North clearly troubled by something. “Zombies in West Ed, political factions dividing the legislature grounds, C-connor…” his voice breaks. Calvin leans over for a comforting if awkward side hug.

“It’s over now,” Whitehorse makes every attempt not to roll her eyes. “Southern politics are overrated, just turn off the news and you won’t have to think about them anymore.”

[The END]

[pjlowry]

My response to Captain Butthurt, er... Captain Old School

This is a response to the following tumblr post:

https://www.tumblr.com/dashboard/blog/captainoldschool/165042005955

There are a lot of bad things going on in this world. People are being prosecuted and harmed for what they believe (or don’t believe in), but despite the genocide, honor killings, stonings, lashings, and other horrific things going on, Captain Old School believes the real place where we should draw our line in the sand is when Atheists on tumblr go to far with their memes. Seriously?

Now I’ll usually the first to freely admit that I’m not a soft spoken person, but that’s just who I am. I do not hesitate to get into someone face and tell them how I see things, but since when was standing up for yourself or others a sin? Sometimes we have to be outspoken, take to the streets and march in order for bad thing to be called out. I’m not going to stop protesting the inhumane confinement of Raif Badawi just because someone things I’m being a dick. I’m not going to stop being angry about people being tossed off ten story roof tops just for being gay because someone with a fake profile pic doesn’t like my attitude. There are greater atrocities going on out there, so when someone is more outraged at my alleged dickness than the atrocities exampled, one could argue that your priorities are seriously messed up.

But uh oh; someone is reverting to name calling! Nothing is more old school than trying to put someone down with names. You’re being a dick! You’re being a big meanie! You’re an asshole! Whether or not the above claim is true, it doesn’t change or delegitimize the argument I’ve been making about religion and it’s terrible impact on the world. Usually when people attack the poster rather than the argument, that to me is a concession of defeat. They can’t argue the point, so they attack the poster instead.

But let’s get back to the argument: what Captain Butthurt doesn’t get is that while many more people of religion are indeed peaceful, they actually support, condone, and even approve of the bad things many people are doing in the name of religion. Sometimes that broad brushstroke is more accurate than even I would like to admit. The fact is a majority of Christians polled do think abortion is murder and that we should legislate what women can or cannot do with their bodies. They also think being gay is a sin, and that homosexuals should not be considered or treated equally. I’m willing to concede there are many Christians who cherry pic their bibles and refuse to follow Leviticus, mainly cause they like Red Lobster and getting tattoos, but when the majority of religious people are supporting organized intolerance and bigotry, they should and deserve be called out on it. Ditto for Muslims in many Islamic nations who think gays, atheists, and apostates should all be executed just for thinking or feeling a different way. We’re talking 60-80% of people polled, that is not a generalization but a fact. To point out these view as wrong and even evil isn’t being a dick, it’s being a moral human being.

Captain Asshat also accuses me of not being specific. Yet he bases this assumption only on what he sees on tumblr. He’s unaware of the works that I have written on other mediums. The thousands of entries I’ve made on other blogging sites, forums, and even in print. I’ve even written three non-fiction atheist books, which total over 150,000 words... but I’m being in his words lazy and unspecific.The truth is I have been quite specific Captain, it’s not my fault you’re too lazy to read all of the material posted before making your half-assed assumptions.

Yet if my comments or attitude makes me a dick in your books, I don’t give a flying fuck. I’ve been called a lot worse, and a rule about sticks and stones usually applies.

Cheers,

PJ

[ericfruits]

Local elections in Japan are running out of candidates and voters

ARMS ALOFT, Noriko Suematsu three times chants her victory cry: “Banzai!” She has just won a third consecutive term as mayor of the city of Suzuka in Mie, a prefecture in central Honshu, Japan’s main island. To pose for the cameras recording her triumph, she is given a lobster and a red sea-bream—auspicious celebratory props often used by politicians. This time is different from her two previous wins. “It was my first time winning the race uncontested,” she confesses. “It felt strange.”

Odd perhaps, but such walkovers are far from uncommon. In the most recent nationwide local elections, held in April, 30% of city mayors ran uncontested, up slightly from the previous poll in 2015. A whopping 45% of mayors in towns and villages were elected unopposed. A record number of local-assembly members, elected in each municipality, also won seats with zero votes. In some rural areas there were more assembly seats than candidates.

Get our daily newsletter

Upgrade your inbox and get our Daily Dispatch and Editor's Picks.

The number of uncontested races has been climbing since the early 1990s, particularly in the countryside. One reason is that the population is falling and the pool of candidates is shrinking. The National Institute of Population and Social Security Research, a government think-tank, reckons about 95% of local municipalities will have fewer residents by 2045. Already, 80% are experiencing declining populations.

At the same time, interest in local elections is sagging. In the 1950s more than four-fifths of the electorate would vote in local races. But in April turnout sank to record lows, under 50%. Voters have been put off by frequent scandals, from petty corruption to sexual harassment. Moreover, “people don’t understand what these local lawmakers do,” says Ken Victor Leonard Hijino of Kyoto University.

Despite a small increase in young and female lawmakers—like Ms Suematsu, who is in her forties—local politics is still dominated by old men. “In these municipalities, candidates are so old they have a hard time putting up election posters,” says Shigeki Uno of the Nippon Institute for Research Advancement, another think-tank. Indeed, three-quarters of town and village assembly members are over 60. The oldest, aged 91, holds a seat on a city assembly in Shizuoka, in central Japan.

Young people are loth to stand because local politics is not a financially rewarding profession. The law bans assembly members from holding other jobs concurrently. Their pay averages around ¥300,000 ($2,740) a month, hardly enough to support young families. “It’s basically a job for the retired,” sniffs Mr Uno. And for little pay, the workload is onerous.

There has been talk of allowing local lawmakers to hold second jobs and to convene meetings out of office hours. Some towns have raised wages. One almost doubled salaries for assembly members under 50, from ¥180,000 a month to ¥300,000. A couple of depopulated villages on Shikoku island are thinking of abolishing the elected assembly in favour of a system of direct democracy based on referendums.

None of this on its own, however, seems likely to end the spate of uncontested polls. “We need to spread the word about the appeal of being involved in local politics,” says Ken Nakamura, a former mayor who now leads Waseda University’s Research Institute of Manifesto. Local politicians have a lot of say in policies relating to everything from child care to road safety. He hopes that, when children are asked about their dream job, more of them will say “politician”. That might make Japan unique. At least it might encourage more to become voters when they grow up.

This article appeared in the Asia section of the print edition under the headline "No contest"

https://econ.st/2WvvtiV